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#so when i finally got around to watching/reading the series i sometimes struggled to take it super seriously
2demon2slayer · 9 months
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Which Demon Slayer, personality wise, scares/intimidates you the most?
For me Shinobu honestly scares me, like probably a-lot at times.
love shinobu, i relate to her so much. i too am a person who tries to be polite but is constantly bursting with rage
you know it's pretty hard for me to feel particularly frightened of any of the demon slayer characters because of how goofy they are in my head. most of the hashira, for example, land somewhere in between normal and too campy for me to take seriously. and most of the characters who aren't hashira are kind of . inept. and thus lack the intimidating factor.
if i had to pick one, i might go with himejima? because while the uh . dramatics are pretty hard to take seriously, something about him being so stalwart in his beliefs can be a little much. like… when tanjirou's first being introduced to the hashira and he's pleading his case, i remember thinking that himejima might take his side because to me he seemed … conflicted or something
and so when himejima was not only all for killing nezuko but also brought up putting tanjirou out of his misery??? i remember feeling a brief moment of terror in sympathy for tanjirou.
he turned out to be a pretty cool guy but it was still weird for a while lol
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bless-my-demons · 11 months
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Redamancy: Chapter Three
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Jasper Hale x Reader
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: None
Notes: So sorry last weekend’s chapter was late this week, I’m back to my regularly scheduled posting! I’m so excited so many of you like this series so far!!
Word Count: 1131
Series Masterlist
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• January 25, 2005 • Forks High School •
Reader
My second day at Forks high school started much smoother than the first. It was pretty much uneventful until I decided to eat lunch alone outside on the picnic tables in the quad. It was an overcast day much like all the others and maybe a little chilly, but still decent enough since it wasn’t currently raining. It made for the perfect condition being that no one else really wanted to eat outside.
That is, until I spotted none other than Jasper Hale headed in my direction.
“Mind if I join you?” He asks, pointing to the opposite end of the table I’m currently occupying.
“Not at all.” I respond, idly tidying my area self consciously.
“Sorry, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming inside and I come out here to get away.” He says by way of explanation, laying down the sketch pad he carried with him along with a few pencils and a smudge stick. “Mostly I just come out here to draw uninterrupted.” He sits and flips to an empty page, tilting it a little away from my view.
“I get it, large crowds aren’t my thing either. Plus in the two days I’ve known Emmett I can already tell that he probably creates a hostile drawing environment.” I finish with a light chuckle, turning my attention toward the unfinished apple in my hand.
“You draw too?” He asks, eyebrows lifting as he begins a rough sketch on the blank paper.
“Oh heck no, I don’t have any artistic abilities like that, as much as I wish I did.” I frown, taking a bite of my apple.
“I didn’t think I had it in me either, but I took some classes, watched some videos online, and doodled around a lot. Finally got the hang of it although I still don’t really think I’m that good.” He trails off, concentrating on his pencil strokes. “It helps with the stress though, especially when there’s a lot going on.”
“That is… actually kind of neat. Having an outlet that’s also inspiring, creating art and it centering you in the process.” I muse out loud, watching a face beginning to take shape on his paper.
I’m about to ask who he’s drawing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rings out in the empty air surrounding us. I gather my trash and stand while he tucks his supplies away.
“Thanks for keeping me company today.” I tell him as I gaze into his beautifully golden eyes, not quite ready to part ways with him.
“Thanks for allowing me to disturb your peace and quiet.” And as if reading my mind, “Mind if I walk you to your next class?”
“Oh um, sure.” Trying not to seem too excited by the proposition of spending more time in this gorgeous boy’s presence. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.
“Lead the way, darlin’.” He announces, sweeping his arm in the direction of the main school building, a smirk on his lips.
I laugh and shake my head at his antics, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I walk past him in the direction of my economics class.
Ditching my trash in the trash can as we leave the quad, I miss the way he grins at the accomplishment of making me giggle. I also fail to notice the astounded looks of his adopted siblings as we pass them unaware of their presence through the windows of the cafeteria. Faces reflecting their shocked thoughts at seeing their brother openly flirting with a female compared to his normal stoic facade.
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“How did you do it?” Emmett asks, leaning against the locker next to mine.
“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, a little confused by his blunt question.
“You’ve been here less than a week and my brother is wrapped around your little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky to wiggle in my face.
I laugh and shut my locker, “Emmett, I’ve had all of like two interactions with Jasper, you’re looking into this a little too much.”
“He usually keeps to himself, this isn't the normal Jasper we’re talking about.” He falls into step slightly behind me on my way to the last class of the day, his large build not moving through the throng of students as quickly as I am.
I turn to look at my new friend, “I literally have no clue, it’s probably nothing Em!” My heart picking up speed at just the thought of Jasper. Is he actually interested in me? Is that what Emmett is getting at?
There’s no way, beautiful people like him don’t go for people like me.
I turn and leave Emmett behind in the hallway as students finish rushing through the halls, the tardy bell ringing.
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American History, the class I share with Jasper Hale and it also happens to be the last class of the day. Unfortunately though, his assigned seat is on the other side of the room. At least it’s more forward than mine, leaving me to observe him for most of the class period without him seeing.
History is also my worst subject; whether it’s world or US history, I hate it all the same. So many mistakes and atrocities, I wish I could let it flow in one ear and out the other without having to remember it for tests.
Today though, I get the sense our teacher has had a difficult day since he’s decided to let us work together freely. Seeing as I don’t really know anyone yet, I’m forced to work alone.
As if he could feel my discomfort and irritation with the assignment, Jasper Hale appears at the edge of my peripheral vision, claiming the abandoned desk next to mine and turning a few heads of our classmates.
“You’re thinking so loud I could practically hear it from across the room.” He mutters lowly without looking up from his worksheet.
“I’m thinking too loud?” I respond defensively as I cut him a look that would normally skin boys alive.
“Would you like some help or not, doll?” He asks, a grin sliding across his lips as his eyes meet mine in challenge.
“I-uh, I hate history.” I manage to blurt out, a little flustered that he so easily bypassed my frustrated facade without a blink.
“I do want that explanation eventually, but we have work to finish and only,” He breaks eye contact to glance at the clock above the board, “thirty seven minutes left before you’re on your own.”
“Alright Hale, what did you get for number four?” I deflate and accept his offer to save me from the misery of suffering through this stupid assignment alone.
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augustghosts · 3 months
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Stewy Hosseini x female reader
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A classic tale of fucking your ex at your friends wedding. We’ve all been there, I think.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: 18+ pls, minors will be blocked! Not proofread which is defo a warning, lmk if you spot anything ive missed. Smut. Oral f!recieving and protected pinv. Alcohol and drugs are mentioned slightly.
Little authors note sorry: Hey everyone i am actually alive lol. 5 months later i return writing for someone new… not out of character for me. I watched succession for the first time recently (late asf to the party i know) and i read some amazing stewy fics so i thought i’d add my piece because i’m obsessed with him. Sorry to all my tommy miller babes on here, i swear i tried writing for him again but my inspiration for tommy fics seems to have gotten lost. I really struggled when i tried finishing my half way done tommy series lol. But when i started writing this one it just floooowed and i finished it in like a few hours. Maybe my tommy love will come back someday but for now…. This. Hope someone out there enjoys lol <3
You’ve felt eyes on you all night. Everywhere you go you end up meeting his eyes across the room. Eveytime you look over at him, he’s already looking. He should be the one that's embarrassed, you’ve caught him looking at you multiple times, but you’re always the one who ends up looking away first and feeling your skin heat with the embarrassment of being caught. While he shamelessly stares at you over the rim of his glass, that awful fucking smirk gracing his lips and he watches you squirm. Honestly, it’s kinda creepy. And you almost hope he approaches you so you can tell him that.
Towards the end of the night he starts to close in, starts inching closer to you. He starts making conversation with the people around you, people at the bar next to you, and eventually your friends. Asking them how they are, how it’s been such a long time. Then, he finally gets to you. He takes his time looking you over before he speaks and you’re determined not to be the first one to talk, so you let him stare. Both of you standing in silence for a few seconds before he finally speaks.
“You look great.”
”Thanks.” Keeping it simple seems safe. You want to tell him he looks good too because fuck, he does. He always does. He notices your eyes drifting over his suit and tie and he chuckles.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“Uhm,” He trails off - pretends to think. “I’m at a fucking wedding, and i’m enjoying myself.”
”Yeah?” You ask, he nods in agreement. The way his eyebrows raise tells you he’s still being sarcastic, still mocking you. “Watching my every move all night is how you enjoy yourself?”
“Actually, yes.” He confirms. “Watching you squirm all night was pretty fun.”
”I wasn’t.” You attempt to defend yourself, downing your drink. “I was just-“
“I’ll get you another.” He cuts you off, snatching your glass out of your hand - not even bothering to ask. You almost try to protest, but you don’t see the point. You know him too well, you know how stubborn he is, once he gets an idea it’s hard for him to let it go. If the idea he’s got tonight is paying for your drinks, then so be it - who were you to complain. You sit down on the stool next to you, watching as Stewy makes the bartender laugh as he orders your drinks. You're kind of pissed that you still can’t figure him out sometimes, you know him better than most people - maybe better than anyone, but he still confuses you. It has been a while since you last saw him, but you conclude that he hasn’t changed much.
When he comes back with your drinks he puts yours down in front of you and asks: “Still your favorite?”
You nod, kind of pissed that he got it right. You try to convince yourself that he didn’t actually remember that small detail. That he’s just been watching you order them all night during your staring competition.
“So, how’s your family?” You ask, cringing at how lame you sound. You just don’t want to let him start a conversation you don’t want to have.
He smiles, because he knows what you're doing. “They’re fine. I still don’t see them much, but they’re good.”
”You’re still too busy to see your family?” You joke.
“Mhm,” His smile almost looks genuine as you joke with each other. “I’m always busy.”
“Busy stealing people's money?”
He laughs then, a genuine laugh that makes you laugh as well. God, you don’t want to admit that you missed him. But everyone else just seems so boring after him, you’ve never found the same thing you’d had with him with anyone else.
“You never really understood business did you?” He laughs.
“I understand perfectly.”
“Sure,” He agrees. “I explained it to you enough times.”
“Yeah, and bored me to death.”
”Is that why you broke up with me?”
His question completely catches you off guard and you almost choke on your drink. You almost want to ask him if he purposefully said that while you were taking a sip, but you’re too busy trying to supress your coughing.
“Jesus, it was just a question.” Stewy laughs at you again, his warm hand coming to rest on your back as he watches you almost choke.
“Fuck you.” You say pointedly, after getting yourself back under control. ”You know why we broke up. Also, I broke up with you?”
”You did.”
“Stewy, it was amicable.”
“Was it?” His face goes serious again and you instantly miss the sound of his laugh. You just sigh, taking another sip of your drink. This was exactly the conversation you didn’t want to have.
“I thought you said you were enjoying yourself,” You say after a few moments of silence. “Don’t ruin it now.”
”I lied.” He says. “I always hated those two, I can't believe they actually got married.”
”Match made in hell.” You agree, both of you laugh softly again.
“You know I also lied earlier when I said you looked great.” He says, surprising you. You brace yourself for whatever joke he’s going to make about you, you shouldn't have pissed him off, he can get mean when he’s pissed off. It’s not his fault, it’s just his defense mechanism - but nevertheless you brace yourself for his comment - and he surprises you again by saying: “You look fucking incredible.”
You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. You opt for another sip of your drink instead and he watches you in amusement.
“I only came because I hoped you would be here,” He continued. You still can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, that damned smirk on his face makes you think he’s making fun of you, but those big brown eyes look so sincere.
“Stewy, stop.” You sigh.
“Come on, baby.” He murmurs, he leans forward in his chair and places his hand on your knee. The nickname makes you tense up. Makes a familiar heat spread through you. “Let me get you another drink and take you up to my room.”
Fuck. He’s fucking good at this, and he knows it. He knows exactly how to get you. You’re trying to think, but the alcohol and the way his thumb is rubbing your knee is clouding your mind. He waits patiently, watching as you look down at his hand and back up to his face. Your eyes stop at his lips before meeting his gaze.
“Alright,” You say, you swear you can actually see his eyes light up. “Go get me another drink and show me your room. Then I'll decide.”
“You got it.” He grins and practically jumps out of his seat. When he returns he holds out his hand to help you off your stool, the heels you decided to wear and the drinks weren’t a good match. He hands you your drink, although you don’t really want it now. His hand finds its place on the small of your back and a fire lights up somewhere inside of you. His touch feels so familiar - comforting. He leads you out of the bar and to the elevators. Punching in the right number before the doors close, leaving you both alone in the small space. It suddenly feels too quiet.
You want to touch him, but once again you don’t want to be the one to make the first move. You don't want him to know how desperate you are for him, although you think he already knows. He’s watching you in silence, his eyes dark and wanting. A look you’ve seen a million times before - a look that makes you excited. The elevator ride is short, Stewy isn’t the type to kiss you in an elevator, and you know that, so you’re not disappointed when the doors open and he hasn’t touched you or said a word.
He gestures for you to leave first, putting his hand on the door so they don’t close on you, or him. Some people would find this strange, the silence, but it’s a game you’ve both played with each other before. A game you both enjoy. He guides you to his room with a hand on your back, just like before. When he unlocks the door and opens it for you, you suppress a gasp. As usual, Stewy needs to have the best of the best. The bride and groom's room probably isn’t even this nice. They probably couldn’t afford it - Stewy can.
“Well?” His voice sounds from behind you.
“Hm?”
”What do you think? You said you would decide when you saw the room. Is it good enough for you?”
”Uhm,” You pretend to think as you set your drink down on the dresser, turning around to dramatically inspect the room. It earns a playful eye roll from Stewy. He knows what impresses you and he knows he already has you. He already had you down at the bar.
“I think it’s okay.” You conclude, turning to face him. He hums in sarcastic agreement, looking you up and down. He’s playing the game again, who is going to end it first. Who is going to lose. You don’t like losing, and neither does he. But honestly, haven’t you already lost? He has you in his room for christ sake. He has you standing in front of him, already dripping and all he’s done is touch your leg a little and look at you the right way. So you put aside your pride and step towards him, you bring your hands up to his cheeks and roughly bring his face down to your, finally connecting your lips.
His hands immediately find their home at your hips, pulling you tightly against him. The kiss immediately turns from an innocent kiss to a hungry and passionate one, his tongue dominating your mouth. You both know each other's bodies so well, there's no need for taking it slow or asking questions.
“Fuck, Stewy.” You sigh as he backs you towards the bed, gently setting you down and climbing over you. Kissing every inch of your skin.
“God, I missed that.” He groans, marveling over the way you sigh his name. “I missed you, baby. I can admit it. I want you so badly.”
You moan softly at his words, at the way his lips feel on your neck - at how right this feels. You had missed him too. He catches you off guard when he pulls away to ask, ”Have you been fucking other people?”
“Sorry?” You giggle, “Why are you asking me that now?”
”Have you?” He presses.
“I ju- maybe.” You stutter, already missing his lips.
”Maybe?”
”I know you’ve been fucking as well.” You accuse, suddenly defensive. You push yourself up onto your elbows, despite still being trapped underneath him.
“Yeah, I have.” He says coolly.
“So?” You ask, irritated. Why was he doing this?
“So, none of them were as good as you.” His words earn an eye roll from you. “Nothing can compare to this pussy.” He adds, his hand sliding down to roughly grip your thigh and bring it over his waist. Oh, shit. His half hard cock is pressing perfectly against your pussy in this new position, the material of your dress and his suit pants keeping you apart. “And, i bet none of those guys fucked you the way i do.” One of his hands comes up to grip your chin, his other keeping him above you. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he asks, “Did they?”
“No.” You practically squeak. “None of them were like you. No one is like you, Stewy.”
You’re not even lying, after having sex with Stewy for so long nothing compared. You had gotten accustomed to a man who knew what he was doing, to a man who was generous in bed. You had gotten used to a man who could make you cum. No one had achieved that after him. Your answer obviously pleases him, he grins and leans down to kiss you again.
He ends the kiss and stands up leaving you spread out on the bed, you whine underneath him, chasing for more. He ignores you and slips off his suit jacket. He makes a show of undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his sleeves in order to push them up to his elbows. Fuck, he looks so good. You almost want to tell him, but you don;t need to. He can see the way you're watching him, that look in your eye. He knows what you look like when you’re turned on - and this is it. He grabs your thighs and pushes your dress up to your waist, getting a good look before sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder somewhere.
“I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, baby. I know what you need. I can’t wait to taste you.” He rambles as you whimper in anticipation, he presses a kiss to your ankle as he watches you buck your hips.
He has his mouth on you before you can respond. Just as you remember, he is painfully and infuriatingly good at it. He still eats pussy like it's his second nature. He still looks up at you through his gorgeous lashes as he traces your clit with his tongue. He has to hold back from grinning against you as you writhe and whimper. He groans as you sigh his name and run your hand through his hair. You remember how much you love it when he’s like this, when he's animalistic and loses his composure.
Your legs tighten around his head as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. It’s fucking embarassing how quickly you barrel towards your climax, but it has been a while. And no one else devours you like this, no one else is this good. You should have expected it. He recognizes it immediately, breaking away from you for a second to speak.
“Are you gonna come for me, baby?”
“Yes! Please, Stew.” You moan, your hands grabbing at his hair attempting to push him back down. He smiles wickedly, licking his lips as he watches you.
“God, I love it when you beg for me.” He mumbles before diving back in, allowing you to push his head down and maneuver him.
"Please make me come," you groan, arching your back. “I'm so close, don’t stop.”
And he doesn’t stop, he continues to lap at you and work you though your orgasm as you come against his mouth. His beard delightfully scratches your sensitive skin, leaving behind a delicious burning feeling. He’s painfully hard now, after watching you come and hearing you moan his name. You begin to push at his head when you come down, usually he would tease you a little now, knowing how sensitive you are and make the most of it. But he’s so fucking desprate for you, he has been all night. He’s been dreaming about being inside of you for hours now.
He’s instantly on his feet, undoing his belt and undressing. You follow suit, weakly sitting up - doing the best your legs can do when they feel like jelly, you lift your dress over your head and throw it on the floor with his clothes. He’s climbing back on top of you, kissing you hungrily. His lips and chin are still wet with your juices and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his lips.
“How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly, fully prepared to submit to him- to do whatever he asks.
“Fuck,” He groans at your words, having to pause for a second. “Can you turn over for me?”
You smile, leaning up to kiss him one more time before turning over and crawling to the middle of the bed, pushing yourself up onto your knees and holding yourself up on your elbows, so your back is deliciously arched the way you know he likes. You grin as you hear him groan behind you, his hand petting your ass before he delivers a light slap to it. He steps away from you and you hear the rustling of a condom wrapper, did he have that in his fucking pocket? His words from earlier repeat in your head, ‘I only came because I hoped you would be here.’
“Plese fuck me, Stewy.” You moan softly, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I need you.”
”How bad?” He teases. The head of his cock is ever so slightly pressing against your entrance, he’s hardly holding back as he waits for your answer, pushing in slightly.
“So bad,” You sigh, pushing back on him so he slips easily inside of you. You both moan loudly, you love that he’s so loud and shameless in bed. He stays still once he’s bottomed out.
“Yeah?” He says through gritted teeth.
“Yes! Please move. I need to be fucked properly, only you can do it.”
The sound he makes behind you is heavenly, you knew that would work. He pulls out of you before pushing back in slowly. He always does this, he starts slow and then builds up to a bruising pace. All you can do is whimper beneath him and beg for him to fuck you faster. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, his cock pushing against that spongy spot inside of you with every thrust.
“You take me so fucking well. Like you were fucking made for me.” His voice is deep and raw.
”I think I am,” You moan. “You feel so fucking good!”
“Are you gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Gonna soak my cock?”
All you can do is furiously nod your head and moan beneath him, the sounds of your pussy squelching as he fucks you is almost embarassing. You don’t have time to think about it because he’s pulling out of you and gently flipping you over onto your back. He lifts your legs and rests his knees on the bed, throwing your feet over his shoulders and he leans over you. He guides his cock back into you and dives down to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips in a messy kiss. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths, not minding when your teeth momentarily clack together.
“Come on gorgeous,” He groans, he’s breathless - pressing kisses to your face between his words. You can tell he’s close too. “Come for me. Squeeze my cock. Let me fucking have it.”
He feels you tighten around him as you come, his name leaving your lips like a fucking prayer. Your hands tightening around his neck, nails digging into his skin.
“Fuck, that’s it. You look so beautiful, baby.” He talks you through it, still fucking you as you come around him.
“Oh my god,” You moan. “Come inside of me, Stewy.”
You know he’s wearing a condom, but the dirty talk is hot. He thinks so too, because that's all it takes for him to come. His head is buried in your neck, his teeth biting into the soft skin under your ear. No doubt leaving a mark, but you’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now all you can think about is how hot he sounds when he comes, you love that he isn’t quiet, that he isn’t afraid to groan your name into your neck.
He stays still for a second, lifting his head and kissing you - gently this time, before he pulls out. You rest for a minute while he discards the condom. You hear rustling and sniffing while he’s in the bathroom and you almost want to yell out to him - this is why we broke up. But you ignore it, getting up from the bed and breezing past him as he leaves the bathroom. You close the door behind you, taking the hotel robe off the back of the door and cleaning yourself up, doing what you need to do. You wonder if you should shower, but decide you should probably go back to your own room to do that.
When you leave the bathroom he’s sitting in the bed under the covers, the tv remote in his hand. Your dress and underwear have been picked up and folded on the chair beside the bed. It makes you smile, how can someone be so thoughtful but so selfish at the same time. That’s why you broke up, you need to keep reminding yourself.
“So, I guess I'm gonna go back to my own room.” You say as you gather your things. You’re on your way back to the bathroom with your clothes when he speaks up.
“Okay,” He says, respecting your decision. “Why?”
”Why?” You repeat, stopping your tracks. “Don’t you want me to go?”
”No. I want you to watch tv with me.”
”Seriously?” You laugh before you realize he’s being serious.
“Yeah, seriously.” His face is impassive, and hard to read. But you can’t resist those big brown eyes and you drop your clothes back onto the floor and slip into bed with him.
“Hey,” He whines as he looks at your dress. “I picked that up and folded it for you and you just threw it on the floor again.”
“Sorry, how rude of me.” You laugh at the mock pout on his face. You’ve sat pretty far away from him and he eyes the space between you.
“Come here.” He says lifting up his arm so you can cuddle into his side. God, you shouldn’t be doing this, you should have left. But he smells good and this bed is so comfortable.
“Will you stay the night here?” He asks quietly
”I shouldn’t.” You sigh.
“I know.” He agrees.
Of course you end up staying the night, Stewy is very convincing. With his promise of round two and a warm shower in the morning, it’s hard to resist. He also promises an expensive breakfast after the shower, but he says, ‘only if you behave yourself.’ You spend the whole night talking and laughing with him. Not only is he the best fuck you’ve ever had, he’s also the funniest person on earth. He’s got the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen but he’s also the biggest assole you’ve ever met. He’s so confusing, but that night you decide that maybe taking a little more time to try and figure him out won’t be so bad - only time will tell.
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tieronecrush · 8 months
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hot & heavy
chapter eleven: star-spangled eyes
neighbor!joel x f!reader
series masterlist
series rating: E (18+ MDNI)
series summary:
over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?
word count: 7.9k
warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and displays of nationalism! yay!
a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so don't ever leave me pls. also thank you all for being so patient with this chapter while i was away! enjoy xxx
“Morning, Millers! Happy Fourth!” Your dad’s voice booms in your ear from where he stands behind you at the garage door, waving to the three Millers as they walk over to your driveway. “Y’all ready for a day on the lake?”
“Sure are. Thanks again for invitin’ us, can we pack up the cooler and everything in my truck? Might make it easier to access since you’ve got the boat hitched up here.” Joel glances your way, the slightest curve of his mouth when you catch his stare, turning toward your dad.
“Well, that’d be just great! We’ve got a couple more bags inside, but think you can take care of these things for now?” Your dad gestures to the things behind you both, clapping his hands when Joel confirms and steps forward to grab the supplies. Slipping back into the house to help your mom with last-minute prep, your dad leaves you with the Miller crew outside.
“Long time, no see, Posey.” Tommy teases as he grabs a tote from his older brother as Joel gives him a glare, earning a smile and shrug from you. “Definitely didn’t hear you sneaking out the kitchen door this mornin’ from my place sleeping on the couch.”
“Get all of that out now before we’re constantly around my parents all day, Thomas.” Joel straightens up at the slightest edge of your voice, masked with teasing as he walks away from you standing with Tommy, grumbling to himself as he goes to load everything for the festivities into his truck.
“Yeesh, somebody’s in a mood. Sometimes he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, but you probably know that.” Tommy hikes the bag onto his shoulder further, grimacing slightly with a familiar furrowed brow — you can see even more of the resemblance with that.
“I’ve seen him crabby, but it’s honestly been pretty rare. He was fine this morning.” Watching from your driveway, Joel’s shoulders move underneath the navy t-shirt he’s got on, lifting everything into the bed of his truck. Tommy follows over there, loading up the rest of the things that your dad brings out from the house. You pick up one tote, Joel approaching behind you and skimming a hand over your lower back.
“I can take that, sweetheart.” He holds a hand out at your side, giving you a tight lip smile as you nod and stutter out an agreement, handing the bag over to him. Your parents walk outside at that moment, your mom rifling through her purse while your dad calls into the house for your brother, Chris, before shutting the door.
“Everyone ready to go?” Your mom looks up, meeting your eyes as Joel gives her a nod and a smile, walking over to his truck to get Sarah in. “Oh gosh, we really overpacked, didn’t we?”
“You always pack for the boat as if we’re going on a sailing trip out to the Gulf. But at least we’ll be prepared,” you say with a laugh, adjusting the strap of your swimsuit underneath your cover-up dress, turning around, and exchanging another look with Joel as he climbs into his car.
There’s the smallest flash of those ‘what ifs’ that plagued your mind a few nights ago, tamped down for the last few days. You clear your throat of the acidic burn, climbing into the back of your dad’s truck and watching Chris shuffle out of the house still half asleep, climbing in next to you with a mumbled greeting.
After you ignore it, he asks, “What the hell has you in a mood?”
If only you could say something.
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You climb out of the back of your dad’s truck once you reach the docks, making your way over to Joel’s truck parked in the lot to help unload while your dad and Chris drop the boat in. Sidling up to him at the back of the cab, you reach for your personal bag that you packed with your things like a book and extra sunscreen and a change of clothes. His hand intercepts yours, looking at you with one side of his mouth lifted.
“I got it for you, Mari. D’you mind walkin’ with Sarah?” He nods to where she’s stood on the sidewalk nearby, observing all of the boats in the small lakeside harbor. Glancing back at Joel, you give him a gentle smile, reaching to give his arm a squeeze.
“Thanks, J. I’ll take Sarah down there. You sure you and Tommy don’t need any help?” You suspiciously eye the amount of stuff occupying the truck bed, quirking a brow at him.
“Positive, darlin’. Y’all head down there, we’ll be right behind you both.” He leans in a few inches as if he’s going to kiss you, halting in his movements and letting out a barely audible sigh before straightening up again and looping a few more bags onto his arms. Your stomach flips around with the need to complete his motions, to close the gap that was there between you, but you respect the boundaries he wants to keep around your family, instead walking over to Sarah and taking her hand. 
Guiding her down the winding path, she tells you all about how excited she is to go swimming and to see the fireworks later, swinging your joined hands. You stop at the end of the dock, waiting as your dad and Chris pull around to where you and your mom are; Joel and Tommy come up behind you with all the goods, loading them onto the boat with your dad and Chris when they come around. Tommy hops on after swinging the cooler over the side, Joel stepping down after. Your dad offers your mom a hand while Joel picks up Sarah easily and sets her down, reaching a hand out to you afterward.
Gingerly taking it, you swing one foot onto the seat, bringing the other over and tripping a bit. You sway back and forth, a heavy hand tightly gripping your side to steady you.
“Y’alright? Nearly fell in there, sweetheart.”
Nodding and taking a breath, Joel drops his hand from you and helps you the rest of the way down and onto the seat. Your mom digs out a child’s life jacket from one of the storage compartments, passing it to you.
“D’you mind getting that on Sarah, honey? She’s gotta wear it to stay safe. Too many nutcases out on the water today.”
You call Sarah over, smiling as she stands in front of you and explaining that she has to keep this on while everyone’s on the boat. Easily slipping her arms in, you close it in front of her chest, clipping and securing the clips one at a time. Joel sits next to you, a few more inches apart than normal, patting Sarah’s curls and giving you a sideways glance.
“You wanna sit here between us, mija?” Joel pats the spot, helping Sarah scoot back onto the bench. He stretches his arm behind her, grazing your arm and brushing his fingers against the knit material of your cover-up. Joel relaxes for the first time all morning, content to stay like this all day if it was his choice. Both of his girls next to him, as close as he can get to you without breaking the boundaries he set himself.
With everyone seated, your dad at the helm, the boat lurches to life when the engines turnover and it idly cruises out of the harbor area before picking up speed to drive around the lake for a bit. The wind blows against all of you, Sarah giggling at the excitement of the ride. You turn to look at her, beaming a smile as she holds onto your arm. Joel watches the small interaction, his heart pumping the subtlest bit harder in his chest.
You’re so patient with Sarah, so kind, compassionate, silly, and serious — you’re exactly what she needs right now, what she’s missing that Joel can’t quite ever be no matter how hard he tries.
The words burn into his mind, sitting in his throat where he holds it back on his tongue. Later. He can say it later. At some point.
After a few laps and weaves around the lake, your dad idles the boat up to a cluster of fellow lake-goers, dropping the anchor and turning off the engines. Everyone shuffled around, Sarah popping up and asking to go in the water straight away.
“Gotta put some sunscreen on ya first, Bug. How about we do that, wait a few minutes for it to dry and you can drink some water and then go swimming?” Joel stands up, glancing around for their own bag they packed. You’re still seated, sorting through your own tote and pulling out your sunscreen.
“Here, use mine. Sure we’ll find your bag in a minute but don’t think Sare-Bear here wants to wait any longer than she has to for swimming.” You smile at her before handing the tube off to Joel, a quiet “thanks” in response. He gets some on Sarah, asking her to sit and wait for it to dry before handing the lotion back to you. Joel steps around you to find their bag on the other end of the boat, walking back over with spray sunscreen and stripping off his shirt to apply some himself.
Stealing glances at you, his mouth dries out when he watches you peel off the cover-up, setting it aside and leaving you clad in your bikini. The sight of you applying the sunscreen sends him back to that first summer, the view from his window into yours of you naked and applying body lotion — a show only for him. He swallows hard and shakes himself out of his thoughts, ignoring you off to his side until he hears you speak up.
“Hey, Tommy, d’you mind gettin’ my back for me since you’re waitin’ on the sunscreen from Joel?” He watches you cross over to Tommy before he can call out a protest, the words dying in his throat when he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you today. Tommy shrugs at Joel, helping you out while he watches on enviously.
Huffing out a sigh, he finishes his own application, throwing the bottle back in the bag and sitting back down in the sun. He slips his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose from the top of his head, closing his eyes and basking in some of the warmth before Sarah begs to get into the water.
Joel hears you mumble a curse under your breath, feeling your presence next to him. Tilting his head down and opening his eyes again, he glances at you sideways and questions, “Something wrong?”
“I stupidly left my sunglasses in the car. I set them down next to my bag instead of putting them inside of it,” you sigh and look around the boat in hopes that some sort of idea pops into your head. Joel reaches up, takes off his own pair of glasses, and hands them to you.
“Here, y’can borrow mine. Won’t need them in the water with Sarah anyway, just gonna lose ‘em if I wear them in the lake.” He gives you a shrug and a thoughtful smile, your fingers brushing his when you exchange the sunglasses. Your own smile that you give him flips his insides, a knowing look shared that says ‘I’d kiss you right now if I could’.
And he desperately wants to.
“Thanks, J—oel. Joel,” you catch yourself with the affectionate nickname, stuttering out the rest of his name and making him chuckle as he stands up.
“Anytime.” A flash of a wink nearly makes you stutter again, slipping the glasses on as Joel, Sarah, Tommy, and Chris all get in the water to cool off from the already blazing heat.
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About a half hour later, Joel and Tommy rumble up the ladder back onto the boat, leaving Chris in charge of entertaining Sarah by spinning her in the inner tube that’s been inflated. The Millers measly dry off before Tommy wanders over to the cooler. Joel steps over to where you’re lying out on the bench, shaking his curls out over you with your eyes closed behind his sunglasses. The cool water drips over you, opening your eyes in a flash and sitting up.
“Rude,” you mumble as you wipe the drips of water and Joel sits next to you where your thighs once were. He chuckles and shrugs casually, leaning back against the side of the boat and propping his elbows up behind him. He’s sitting only a few inches away, and with your parents sitting and chatting at the other end, they don’t hear as he leans in and speaks low to you.
“Y’looked hot. I was only tryin’ to cool you down.” He winks and smirks smugly, dragging his eyes up and down your body when you stand and patter over to the cooler where Tommy’s retrieved a beer from.
“You want a drink, Joel?” you ask over your shoulder, nodding in confirmation when he says yes.
“Probably should get some water as well. You, too. Gotta stay hydrated in the heat.”
“Hm, guess so.” You grab a plastic bottle and turn around, lobbing it to him to catch. You pick up another for yourself, grabbing a can of beer for Joel and a popsicle for you. As you turn around with your pickings, you take the beer can in one hand, heading straight on for Joel and press it into your skin against your sternum, sighing a bit extra as the icy cold aluminum sits against your sun-warmed body.
Dragging it across, the condensation drips across your body, dropping the can down in between your breasts as you stand with your back to your parents. Another sigh breathed directly towards Joel, the slightest pitch change up at the end indetectable to Tommy across the boat but unignorable for Joel.
He clears his throat, taking the can from you gingerly as you hold it out for him, equally as smug of a smirk on your face. You take your seat next to him again, setting your water bottle to the side of you and unwrapping the popsicle as Joel cracks his beer and takes a sip.
“Lucky it’s still cold,” he grumbles under his breath, making you laugh quietly and a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
Between your thumb and index, you grip the wooden stick of the red, white, and blue rocket pop, bringing it up to your lips and starting to lick it as you make conservation with Tommy, a thought popping into your head as ‘Fortunate Son’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival starts playing over the boat’s speakers.
“D’you get a lot of people thanking you for your service when they find out you were in the army, Tommy?”
“Eh, some really. Fellow veterans really don’t, and I don’t care to mention it that much to people. Most they notice is the sticker on my car in like the grocery store parking lots and they’ll say it quickly or give me a nod,” he shrugs and waves the question off, “Plus, you definitely don’t get people saying it to me on the Fourth. People gettin’ too drunk outta their minds in the name of their freedom.”
“Well, if no one else says it today, then thanks, Tommy. War is the stupidest thing man invented, but m’glad you made it home safe.”
Tommy holds up his can of beer and tips it toward you while you pop the icy, sugary treat out of your lips and hold it up with a laugh.
“Cheers,” he says with a smile.
Joel merely listened to you two the whole time, chatting back and forth while Tommy pounds his beer and tossed it into the recycling bag before jumping back into the lake. You’ve still got your popsicle, sliding it between your lips absentmindedly next to Joel, who keeps glancing to the side as you.
At the next, admittedly overdramatized, suck of popsicle between your lips, slurping the sugary juice before a drip slips out of the corner of your mouth. You wipe it up with your thumb, about to turn to Joel to ask if you’ve got food coloring on your face when he shifts next to you, one hand attempting to adjust himself before he grumbles a few curses and stands up. The water and beer are left ignored in cup holders, the small, subtle bulge in his trunks giving you a smirk that you bite back as he stomps over to the side of the boat and jumps in to cool off.
Throwing out the popsicle stick, you drink some of your water before meandering over to the side of the boat and climbing down the ladder and into the lake water. An instant chill is spread across your body, relaxing your muscles and washing off the slight sweat that built up under the blazing sun. Paddling over to the rest of the group in the water, you exchange a quick look with Joel before Sarah and Chris pull you into some sort of game. Twenty minutes go by before Sarah gets bored of the water, hungry and thirsty, and when Joel moves to help her out of the water and onto the boat, Tommy offers to get out with her to have another beer and some snacks himself. Chris gets out along with them, leaving you and Joel alone in the water.
He swims over to where you’re treading water, a soft, friendly smile on his face. “Hi, Mari.”
“Hey, J.”
A wider grin spreads across his lips, swimming away for a moment to fetch the inner tube that Sarah was using bringing it over and slipping it over your head. A laugh leaves your lips when you can’t see over it for a moment, pushing the tube down and climbing onto the side to lean on it. You float above Joel’s eyeline, his neck slightly tilted to look into your eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.
“You look nice today, darlin’,” he hums and treads water in front of you, reaching out a hand underwater and toying with the material of your swimsuit at your hip.
“Only nice?” you tease, leaning over the side of the inner tube a bit more, biting your bottom lip.
“Well, I could say more but probably don’t want my thoughts overheard,” he mirrors your smirk and snaps the elastic of the swimsuit against your skin, fingertips trailing down your thighs, “You do look more than nice though. You look beautiful. S’a pretty swimsuit and, uh, that dress thing—”
“My cover-up?”
“Yeah, yeah. I like your cover-up. It’s nice. A shame it covers up all this, but y’know you still look gorgeous either way.” He gives you a wink and squeezes one of your thighs.
“Thanks, J. You look pretty, too. But you always look pretty — got your curls and your tanned skin and broad shoulders and big brown eyes,” you giggle quietly as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head bashfully.
“You’re always pretty, too, Mari. You always look beautiful. La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world).”
It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you look at each other, silently admiring before you break first, your voice covered by all the commotion of the lake around you but audible to Joel right in front of you. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”
His shoulders sag underwater and his brow creases subtly, bottom lip pouting, “M’sorry.”
“It’s okay, J. Wasn’t a good time to tell them. Later, right?” You give a sad smile that he returns, squeezing his hands against your thighs with a short nod.
“Later.”
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After floating around and chatting with Joel until you were turning pruney and nearly falling asleep in the water, he pushes the inner tube toward the boat and follows behind you to get back.
“Y’need to get some water and somethin’ to eat, sweetheart. Probably dehydrated at this rate cause you look like you’re about to pass out.” Joel pats the tube with his hand to silently ask you to get out to go up the ladder.
“M’just sleepy, the sun feels warm. Like a cat, jus’ wanna nap in the sunlight,” you mumble out, stretching your arms up and your legs toward Joel underwater, pointed toes hitting his thighs. He grabs you by the ankles, tugging a bit to move you closer before he nods to the blown-up floaty.
“Maybe so, but you still haven’t had any water for at least an hour and you haven’t had anything to eat besides the popsicle. Let’s go up, Mariposa.” His voice is decided — filled with care and not control. It compels you to follow what he says, slipping the tube over your head and wading over to the ladder. Joel follows you out, dripping on the boat and grabbing his towel as your brother tosses yours from the bench.
Drying off and wrapping your towel around you, drops of water trail off of you all the way to the seat where you plop down next to Tommy. Joel heads to the cooler, grabbing out water for both of you. He asks around if anyone else wants one, getting a few hollered answers as he throws them all around. When he returns to sit down again, he hands you yours along with a snack — one of the Tupperware filled with some chopped fruit. Sarah wanders over when you open it, standing in front of you to share. Joel throws the bottle of sunscreen over to you, asking to reapply for Sarah and reminding you to do it for yourself. 
“Alright, everybody, heads up. The plan right now is to move the boat and park up by a friend of ours’ house on the lake here. And there we’ll grill out and have some dinner and then come back onto the boat for fireworks before headin’ home,” your dad explains as he moves back into the driving seat, “Sound alright for y’all?”
Everyone’s in agreement, kicking it into gear as you let Sarah next to you to continue sharing the snack while your dad lifts the anchor. Holding onto her while you ride over, Joel takes in the sight of you two across from him, a steady flap of butterfly wings smack dab in the middle of his chest.
Su Mariposa y su mariposita. His butterfly and his little butterfly — his Bug. His girls.
He finds himself thanking the universe for leading him to someone as nurturing and patient and kind as you to love. A lonely road ending with you.
It’s a thought he continues to have throughout the rest of the evening, small moments that he sees of you with his daughter, his brother, your own family and friends. Effortless. You make it all seem so effortless and natural, but Joel knows how much energy a day like today will take from you; from your spirit. He can’t claim to know exactly what’s on your mind, but all he can do is fight the urge to blurt out a loud ‘thank you’ in the middle of the lawn.
Even through everything, you have a smile on your face for him and your loved ones. You’re strong, perseverant. Someone he looks up to, and hopes that you can be that type of role model for his daughter. Not perfect, not idolized. Real.
“She’s just completely enamored with Sarah, isn’t she?” your mom’s voice pulls Joel out of his thoughts, realizing his eyes were trained in you and Sarah as you help her make a plate for dinner from the large spread on the deck tables. Joel looks up to his left, a gentle and sheepish smile on his face as he nods slowly.
“She’s great with Sarah. Has been since that first summer. I think Sarah has way more fun with her and listens to her way more than she does me,” Joel chuckles softly and your mom laughs with a nod.
“That’s how it always is. The kids always loved their babysitters and looked up to them in a different sort of way. We were lucky to have the sitters we did to help raise the kids right, y’know?”
“I do know. Feel the same way since we moved in next door. The whole family’s been a real help—“
“But there’s just something about her, isn’t there?”
“Exactly. Can’t quite put my finger on it. But there’s something special there. Maybe she should consider it for a career, nannying I mean. Always seemed to be happy with Sarah during the summer.” Both sets of eyes are still on you across the way, focused on Sarah and guiding her through the muck of people to keep her from getting overwhelmed.
“I think there might be something just special there. In all of her babysitting and nannying years, can’t say she’s had as much fun as she did with Sarah.”
“Guess I should thank you for volunteering her that first summer. Probably the best recommendation I’ve gotten from a neighbor,” Joel laughs to himself, shaking his head subtly as he thinks of all the time you two have had together over the years.
“Thank me later, how about that? End of this summer, you can thank me for getting her to do what she was too chicken to do,” your mom laughs quietly, “Talking to the new neighbor and getting a job.”
“Uh, yeah, alright.” Your mom shares a smile with Joel before walking off to chat to some friends, leaving Joel to wonder what she meant by that exactly.
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Back onto the boat after dinner with the larger party, your family and the Millers caravanned into the middle of the lake with a bunch of other boaters, dropping anchor in the cluster.
There is a platform in the middle of the lake, installed there with taut chains to the bottom where the same family lights off an impressive fireworks display every year. Helping your mom hand around the last bit of drink and some cookies for dessert, you finally are able to snag a spot by Sarah and Joel on the other side of her. Once you get settled, Sarah looks over at you with her sun-kissed face and big brown eyes just like her dad’s. Wordlessly, she scoots closer to you before deciding to simply climb onto your lap, you accepting her company with open arms.
“You comfy?” you wrap your arms around to hug her to your chest and keep her on your thighs, smiling as she nods with a quiet yawn. Her head leans back on your shoulder, one of your hands coming up to run your fingers through her curls.
Joel slides over a few inches, a hand’s width away from you, relaxing with you close by. The sight of Sarah so comfortable with you, and you her, brings back those butterfly wings stronger than before. What he would give to be able to put his arm around you and give you a kiss — to have his little unit of three together.
Damn, maybe he should have said something to your parents…
No, no. This was the smart choice. It’s the smart choice to keep it this way around them until things are certain. He’s all in for you, but there is still a small whispering of doubt that he feels every once in a while.
Are you going to resent him at any point? Will you want to leave again at the end of summer, to leave him behind and continue your life somewhere else? He knows you care about him, he knows how much you care about Sarah. But does he rely too much on you? Is it too much to sign up to be with him and also sign up to have a daughter along with it all?
Every time he thinks about telling your family, all he can imagine is the worst scenario. Disowning, no contact, moving. Joel’s insecurities fester in these imaginings, finding out how to make every new thought worse than the last.
It’s not fair to you, he knows that. But he needs time. Time to find the right words, to make the right promises.
A small, pathetic pop of a firecracker grabs everyone’s attention, the fizzle of the main display filling the air. Sarah sits up in your lap, eyes turned up along with yours as the fireworks start to go, drowning out whatever you’re saying to her as you point and smile widely. The reflection of the lights dissipates in your eyes each time, short explosions fading out to the night sky again.
Joel seems to be the only one with his gaze turned away from the opening in the clouds, a thought flashing into his head like one of the fireworks before he acts on it. Fingers brush your hip, catching on the open-knit and your head turns to face him, the same smile you had with Sarah still on your face. He leans in behind her head, his nose brushes against yours before he kisses you — soft and delicate and not nearly enough for what he needs in the moment but it satiates something for him.
You’re smiling against his lips, stealing one last quick peck before pulling back, the same wide grin from before spread across your cheeks as you whisper to him.
“Naughty.”
“Yeah, well, you’re to blame for it with the teasing all day. Better be coming over tonight after all of that,” Joel responds back, the noise drowned to everyone else on the boat by the repeated launches of large fireworks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, J. I thought I was being peaceful and relaxed all day.”
At that you turn your head up again, listening to Sarah as she talks about the bursting lights and starts pointing at all of the cool moments again. Joel continues to watch you fall back into the moment with her, he content with being an observer — and for giving you a tiny token of all that he’s been feeling today.
But damn is he eager to get you alone.
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It was a long while to get home and get everything unpacked from the car and into the garage, but you’ve finally managed to shower and change; behind you, you slowly pull the sliding glass door closed to your basement studio, wandering across your backyard and into Joel’s to his backdoor.
Knocking lightly, it isn’t long before the door opens, and Joel’s hands find your waist to tug you inside, tripping over your feet across the threshold.
“Hey, J—” Your words are cut off by his lips on yours, a heavy kiss enveloping your breath while your hands search across his arms and up to his chest. Returning his kiss gives more energy behind his movements, fingers digging into your hips and directing you backward until your lower back hits the edge of the kitchen counter. There’s a split second that he pulls away to help you up onto the surface, his large frame leaning in again to catch your lips with his.
Pressure at his chest from your palms keeps him a few inches away from your face, eyes meeting his as your breaths recover shallowly.
“What a greeting,” you laugh, voice hoarse as you keep your volume low.
“Missed bein’ able to kiss you, Mari. Holdin’ you. And you were such a fucking tease all day, darlin’,” he rasps out, brow creased as he holds your gaze.
“Was not.”
“Was too, Mari.” Joel slips his hands into the bend of your legs, spreading them apart to step between them. He pulls you further to the edge pressing his bulge into your thigh as he sighs, letting his breath fan over your face, “Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? Been wanting you all day. Need you so bad, Mariposa.”
Your own sigh matches his, eyes closing for a moment as he starts to grind against your clothed center, stuttering out a response, “Cou—Could’ve touched me today. Maybe we should’ve snuck off at the barbecue…”
Both of you chuckle, Joel’s much darker than yours, “Don’t tell me that now, baby. You’ve got no idea what I would’ve done to you if we had a second alone.”
“We’re alone now. Show me what you would’ve done.”
“Yeah? You wanna know?” His parted mouth trails warm breath against your skin, his nose ghosting against your cheek before he presses kisses into your jawline.
“Please, J,” you whine, mouth right against his ear as he leans over to kiss your neck. One hand tangles into the curls at the nape of his neck, damp from the shower that you can smell on him — the sandalwood musk scent of his body wash. A deep breath of the scent races your heart along with his wandering hands, him standing fully in front of you again.
“Gonna have to be quiet, baby. Have a full house tonight. Silent, got it?”
All you do is nod in response, holding his head as you close the gap between you two with fervor. Joel rumbles out a moan into your mouth, tugging you close and off the counter, his impatience reeling after the day.
Fumbling around with cheeky grabs and gropes over each other, you get turned to face the counter and Joel’s hands hook into your waistband — sleep short and panties — to tug them down just enough to drop them down your legs and let you step one foot out. He pulls himself free from his shorts and boxers, a handful of your ass in his palm as he quietly moans to himself. One swipe of his fingers through your folds tells him exactly how much you want him, devilish smirk crossing his face.
“Felt like this the whole day, pretty girl? Must’ve been so needy, Mari. Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. Déjame cuidarte, cariño. Déjame sentirte. (Let me take care of you, darling. Let me feel you.)”
“Please, please, J—“
“Shh. S’alright, sweet Mari. Think you can take me, want to take my cock like the good girl you are?” He questions you in a raspy whisper, taking himself in one hand and guiding the head of his cock through your wetness.
“Fuck…” you draw out quietly, nodding quickly as you look over your shoulder at him, “I can take it, please give it to me.”
“Pretty girl jus’ begging for me, yeah? Got to be quiet,” Joel reminds you before he lines himself up, slowly opening you up with his cock. The stretch is painful at first, whimpers echoing in your closed mouth while you grip the counter’s edge and bite the inside of your cheek.
With slow, shallow thrusts at first, Joel works you to relax around him, nodding to himself when he sees your shoulder relax and your head fall forward out of pleasure when he starts to pick up the pace behind you.
“That’s it, baby, such a good girl. Mi buena chica. Sabes cómo tomarlo, Mari. (My good girl. You know how to take it.)”
A moan slips from your lips and cuts through the relative silence, your head snapping over your shoulder to Joel. He shakes his head, sliding one hand up your side to hold around your mouth, covering up any more noises and giving him leverage to arch your back for him as he fucks you harder.
“Shit, pretty girl, not gonna last—Fuck, muy apretado y mojado. (Fuck, so tight and wet.)” You nod behind Joel’s hand, gripping his wrist when his free hand reaches for your clit, rubbing hurried circles that push you to the edge further, teetering there while his hips hit into you harder and brush your g-spot. Feeling yourself clench around his cock, you move your own hips to meet his thrusts, eyes rolling back as the top of him hits your g-spot square on.
“That’s right, my girl, can feel how close you are. Give it to me, baby, please—“ A vibrating moan interrupts his rambling thoughts when you come, walls gripping around him and fluttering inside. Your own noises are stifled by his palm, body limping in his hold while he rocks his hips as deep as possible and ropes of his come fill you up. “Such a good girl, goddamn…”
Breathless, he holds you up and presses you against the counter as he hunches over your body from behind. Using whatever energy is left in him, Joel peppers your neck and profile in lazy kisses, lingering around your ear.
“Love you, Mari.”
Once you’ve both recovered enough from the quick, hasty fuck, limbs regaining their abilities to move, Joel leads you up to bed and drags you under the covers. The two of you chat about the day and plans for the rest of summer while he lays his head on your chest, eyes closing while you run your fingers through his hair. Index twirls some of the rare ringlets, nails scratching his scalp soothingly.
In a few moments of you talking to him about bringing Sarah to the aquarium, his breaths have leveled out and his lips have parted, a large muscular build curled around you sleeping. It’s a few moments that you steal while continuing to play with his hair, admiring how young and boyish he looks. The perpetually creased brow of his has relaxed, his parted lips giving him the slightest of pouts.
Joel, your strong, independent, capable, protective, caring, loving man, is still a boy at times. When you feel young around him, you know you’ll think back to this moment — when you realized he’s just as much in the ‘figuring how all this shit works out’ stage. Permanently.
The last two or so years have been filled with moments that it seems that you took what Joel had to think or say as written in stone; his confidence and decisiveness was something you were envious of at times. But it also meant that all those times, even if he knew what he was doing, he was still a young boy, a teenager, a man, all the ones in between — figuring it out. Wondering if the choices were right. If it would all work out in the end.
That first summer, when you fell completely in love and let him know before you were leaving for nearly a year. It was genuine, of course, but it was naive. Thinking about long distance, a single father trying to make that work. It probably scared him at the time, and was too much to attempt to work with.
And the next summer, when he had his time to figure out what he was feeling. His confession of love that had your heart in your throat, terrified to admit anything close to the feeling before you were thousands of miles away. The feeling was there, it was always there. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it back, to open up for the pain you felt the year prior.
His denial of you, yours of him — looking back, you can’t blame Joel for these hiccups, just like you can’t blame yourself. He was only trying to figure it out. It was all new to him, navigating a life with you in it was something he hadn’t had to do before, hadn’t imagined before.
You’re in the exact same state, each and every day. And it made you so afraid to be all in, the uncertainty of life blinding you to actually opening up.
Fingers have paused their movements in his hair, Joel stirring awake against your chest when your touch leaves him completely. His head is tilted to face you, masked in an expression that you can’t quite read. Comfortable, drowsy, affectionate. Half asleep, droopy eyes find your own, holding your gaze as he breaks the quiet and stillness of the bedroom with a gravelly voice.
“Was thinking about you in my sleep just now.”
“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about, baby?”
“How you’re my best friend.” The arm slung around your middle tightens as a goofy smile finds its way to his lips. “D’you know that, Mari?”
Looking at him, in that simple moment, a realization dawned on you as if it was the most obvious discovery.
He’s the only one you want to be figuring it out with.
“I love you, Joel.”
It comes out meeker than you wanted for this first-second time around, almost inaudible if it weren’t for the complete and utter quiet of the early morning hours.
A dreamy but wide grin stretches across his face, waking him up a bit more in the moment. He picks up his head from your chest, sitting up a few inches to look you properly in the eyes as he asks, “Yeah?”
“Mhm, I love you,” you can barely get it out without a happy giggle tagging on the end, barely squeaking the last syllable out before Joel’s skittering kisses all over your face, that same wide grin on his lips.
“Say it again, please, Mari.”
“I love you, J. I’m so in love with you.”
His attack on your face and neck continues, his own chuckles mixing with your giggles, his arm tightening around you and fingers tickling your sides.
“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming right now?” he questions, pausing his peppered kisses to give you a tender one on your lips, that same goofy grin knocking your teeth together.
Before you respond, or he asks for you to say it again, Joel takes a pause to look into your eyes head on. Silence overcomes the room again, goofy grin morphing into a sweet, softened smile of his. Disbelief painted across his face as he took you in, shaking his head.
“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre. I love you, Mari. Always.”
“I love you, Joel.”
Holding your eyes for a moment longer, there’s a shift in the air from the giddy confession. Joel inches down, connecting your lips in a ghosting kiss, your lips following his to feel more. After a beat, the kiss heats up, slow and sensual. His hands roam your sides, hiking up the material of your sleep shirt and pressing his palm against your exposed skin.
There’s no break in the embrace, only pushing further to feel each other closer and constant. The slight lack of oxygen, the breathlessness of it all, is making your head airy and dizzy, limbs tingling with electricity when you slip your fingers under the collar of his t-shirt. In the moment, you could drown in the feeling of Joel’s lips against yours.
The only breaths you get are when he separates from your lips to pull your shirt over your head and then follows it with his own, easily sipping your elastic waistbands down your legs again. You kick off the material from your ankles while he strips out of his own shorts and boxers, messy kisses shared while your hands skate over his bare skin. Fingertips work to memorize the dips and peaks, the trail of hair from his belly button down. Joel’s own hands explore your curves, relishing in the softness of your skin.
He pulls away from your mouth, breathless and blown pupils before he rasps out, “I love you so much, Mariposa. Got no clue who I’d be if I didn’t meet you…You’re it for me.”
Your voice is thick with emotion, one hand tangling your fingers with the hair at the back of his head, “I love you, J. It’s only you, s’always been you.”
Joel’s hand lifts one of your legs to bend next to his hip, lining himself at your entrance before he slowly thrusts in, savoring the feeling of you around him, body pressed against his skin in every place possible. Airy moans muffle into and against each other’s lips as he fills you up, the rhythm of his movements languid and steady. The pace is reeling your brain into a building of pleasure, whispers from Joel adding to the euphoric adoration between the two of you.
“My beautiful girl, so perfect. Love everything about you, sweet girl. M’so lucky to have you…Mine forever, right Mari baby? Mi hermosa, mi amor. I love you, fuck, I love you so much, Mari. Always got me feeling like m’floating around you, like I got a butterfly flapping it’s wings in my chest with how giddy you make me feel with just one look. Mi mariposa. My butterfly. Mine…”
The words are absorbing with each shallow breath you take, nodding along to his ramblings and feeling tears well against your waterline. Hands grip hard onto his shoulders, folding yourself around him tighter as you leave lingering kisses along his profile.
“Yours, J, yours always. I love you so fucking much—Oh my god, you’re everything to me, baby.”
“Never letting you go again. My girl, my fucking beautiful girl. Gonna make you mine forever, gonna make you my wife, mi esposa, one day, sweet, perfect girl. You’re made for me, Mari. Mi media naranja. (My other half.)”
His thrusts pick up only slightly, but enough to spill the tears waiting at the brink of your eyes, Joel’s mouth catching each one with featherlight kisses. Sitting right at the edge, your eyes lock with his, vision slightly blurred from the tears continuing to fall. Joel’s features fill the vignette, hooked nose, pillowy lips, soft brown eyes, olive skin sprinkled with crinkles around his eyes, subtle lines at his forehead. Nothing more beautiful to you than those parts making up the whole of him.
“Te amo, te amo, J. I love you, baby…”
His breath catches in his throat, smile spreading as his nose nudges against yours to speak against your lips.
“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Los amo a todos, cada poco. Eres todo lo que podría haber soñado y más (I love all of you, every bit. You're everything I could have ever dreamed of and more). I will spend every day earning your love and giving you all of mine.”
The words you understood have your frayed edges pulled taut, snapping one at a time as your brain floods with pleasure. Your walls flutter around his cock, your leg hooks into his ass to drive him further inside to fill you up. It is only a moment longer before he’s spilling into you, your name falling from his lips over and over as he searches for your lips in his state of ecstasy.
One last heavy kiss is shared before he slumps onto you, similar position to the start of all this; his head on your chest, strong form curled around you and his eyes closed. It last for a moment, your fingers playing with his hair, before he’s pushing himself up to hang over your torso, tender eyes studying your messy hair and blissed out face.
A smile crosses your lips, eyes sparkling even with the lights out in the room and the curtains only cracked apart to let moonlight stream in.
“Gonna make me your wife one day, huh?” you tease as you look up at him from your spot laying back on the mattress, crumpled sheet pulled over top of your naked body.
Joel rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over you and smiling, “As if you didn’t know that from the first time I spoke to you. Knew you were trouble from the start, just turned out to be the best kind of trouble.”
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taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras@bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @thereaperisabitch @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg
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autism-alley · 3 months
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augh found my old post abt pjo and disability from before the show came out but it was on ye olde blog so i’m literally just gonna copy and paste, 3, 2, 1—
ok now that i’ve got it on the brain, i want to talk about disability in pjo and specifically how calling percy jackson dumb or treating him as such is not only a mischaracterization, but ableism. as a quick note, i’m keeping this to just percy to avoid having this already long post be even longer, but there are other disabled characters in pjo worthy of discussion, though i hit many of the same points in this post. i bring up percy specifically because he is mostly the character i have seen people treat as stupid.
percy is a dyslexic teen with ADHD who comes from a low-income family, raised by a single mother, and deals with an abusive step-father. i cannot stress enough how much of his character is shaped by that experience, but as hard as it is to single out any one part, i am going to focus on his ADHD and dyslexia. this kid has nightmares of being forced to take tests in a straightjacket as teachers ask him if he’s stupid and withhold him from recess with his peers. he is constantly labelled as “troubled” and blamed for things he didn’t do or aren’t his fault. he is told, over and over again, even from trusted adults, that he is “not normal” (othering him). he bounces between schools. he struggles to make friends. he deals with bullying. he has difficulty studying and reading, even when invested. teachers struggle to connect with him and tend to just give up on him. these are real disabled experiences, and rick does a good job at presenting them in the pjo books. sometimes, it feels like everything is a struggle. you are living inside a system that not only is restricting, but actively works against and punishes you.
in contrast, CHB is a great example of how when environments meet the needs of disabled people, it hugely changes how disabled we are in that environment. demigod brains are hard-wired for ancient greek, not english, and they’re born impulsive, with high energy levels that help them survive battle—but aren’t very good for a classroom setting. but by having them read books in ancient greek, regularly do lots of training/physical activities, and have genuine opportunities to express themselves...they function pretty damn well. percy discovers that while he struggles academically, he is brilliant in combat and capable of saving the world numerous times—he is a hero. do you know how important that message is for disabled children? disabled adults, too? that we can be heroes?
it is here, in camp half-blood, that percy finds a place he belongs, that shows him his worth—finally, somewhere is built to not only include him, but to nurture and genuinely prepare him for the world outside its boarders. however, i think people forget that just because percy functions in the world of CHB and the gods, that does not mean he doesn’t face ableism in the mortal world—and that there is an entire group of people who see ourselves reflected in his character.
i could talk on for hours about how much being disabled shapes percy’s identity and how he interacts with the world—like how percy’s humor revolves around coping with his environment and actually displays a very low self esteem after being looked down upon his entire life. this kid doesn’t even have to say anything and he screams i had a neurodivergent childhood. but about 5-6 years ago, when i was more regularly tuned into the fandom, every time i saw someone call percy jackson dumb or an idiot, even jokingly, i raised an eyebrow, and now that the series is getting fresh coverage from disney+, i have wanted to make this post. so much of this kid’s life and personality comes from being treated like he’s dumb or incapable, so it’s troubling to watch part of the fanbase reflect the harmful parts of this character’s upbringing. i truly hope it does not become common again. it’s also one thing coming from a neurodivergent/disabled person with similar experiences (and even then i personally find it a little uncomfortable), it’s another to be said by a neurotypical/able bodied person.
percy jackson’s experiences make for very important representation, and for people to characterize him as just a goofy, unintelligent guy is not only an insult to his character as a kid who is intelligent, but previously lacked the environment to show it, but also ableist. so in the dawn of the new tv series era, i ask that we cut that shit out. rick riordan did not create rep for neurodivergent and disabled kids for them to be called stupid by the fanbase. even jokingly.
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ladymunson · 2 years
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Hello all, welcome to my blog. I’m Sam (she/her) I’m an aspiring writer, based in London, UK 🇬🇧
I also have my own baking business called Bee’s Treats, follow @beestreatsldn on Instagram for details.
I write about; Eddie Munson, Bucky Barnes, Joel Miller, Steve Harrington and Andy Barber. I’m willing to try for other characters if requested.
Feel free to send me a DM or ask if you have any requests or comments, or even just for a chat. I’m always open to making new friends
I am neurodivergent and sometimes it’s a while between my posts as I can’t always focus to write; but I promise I will finish stories once my mean mean brain allows me to.
This blog is a safe space for all
Minors be gone! My fics are 18+
Here is my Masterlist with all my current fics and blurbs included, I hope you enjoy!
Feel free to share.
Click here to fill out my taglist application
💕 Fluff
🔥 Smut
🥀 Angst
💀 Horror
🎭 Drama
Read my Fic Recs list here
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Series
Love Ain’t No Stranger - (complete)
🥀 🔥 💕
You and your friends spend most of your days, with everything nerdy. You’re the only girl in the group, but they never treat you differently. That is until prom comes around and Eddie starts feeling strange when you’re asked to prom by someone that isn’t him. Could Eddie be jealous?
Long Way Home- (Ongoing)🥀 💀
After Eddie’s battle with the demobats, his injuries are severe and the gang needs help. As Dustin’s ex-babysitter, and a studying nurse they bring him to you. Can you save him? And will Eddie escape Henry’s grasp and find his way back to you?
In My Dreams- (complete)🥀💀💕🔥
Your parents have an issue with you dating the town “freak” Eddie Munson, so they force you apart but you and Eddie can’t stop thinking about each other. You’re invading each others dreams so maybe it’s not just a “silly crush” like your parents think.
One Shots
Is This Love?- (complete)🔥 💕
Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin is playing a gig at the Metro Club in Chicago, Illinois. You’ve been a fan since you saw them perform at your middle school talent show, around that time you’d developed your crush on Eddie. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had also been harbouring a secret crush on you for years. Will he finally shoot his shot?
Tragic Comic- (complete)🥀 🔥 💕
You and Eddie have been best friends for years, lately you feel like something is bothering him. When an unexpected visitor arrives in Hawkins to take advantage of Eddie, he finds out you’ve got his back after you stand up for him.
You - (coming soon)🥀 🔥 💕
You and Eddie have been friends for years, both being outcasts and neither having much family, you instantly clicked. Now however, feelings have developed, on your part anyway. When Eddie leaves you alone in his trailer to make a deal, you grab ahold of his guitar and pour your feelings out in a song.
Drabbles/Blurbs/Imagines/HCs
Sleeping Trouble- (posted)💕
You get awoken in the middle of the night by your silly affection starved boyfriend.
This is Halloween- (posted)💕
It’s almost your favourite time of year, which also happens to be your birthday. Eddie wants to know… trick or treat?
Foreclosure- (coming soon)
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One shots
The Secret (posted)🔥
You’re having a nice summer’s day relaxing in the park with your friends; Nancy, Robin, Steve, Jonathan and Argyle. And there’s some sexual tension between you and Steve. Especially after he sees you in that sundress.
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The Boss- (Complete)🔥💕
Mile High- (complete)🔥
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The Assistant (On hiatus)🔥🎭
You move into a new neighbourhood to discover you have a very hot guy next door; some innocent watching turns into something more, then you discover something about him that could put your new job in jeopardy.
One 🥀 🔥
Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.
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Perfect- (posted)🔥💕
Reader and Joel Miller have been friends for quite a long time, but been apart due to moving away. They finally reconnect after a year apart when one surprises the other with a unscheduled visit. Their reunion goes way different than either of them anticipated.
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The Train- (posted)
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Blind Date -(cancelled)
Dividers and headers made by me
All links are fixed!!
Feel free to send messages and asks, I love talking to y’all.
REQUESTS OPEN
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btsqualityy · 2 years
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Blood On The Dance Floor: Chapter 15
Hoseok x Reader
Genre/Rate: 18+, established relationship, thriller, fatal attraction!AU (kind of, but with major changes), smut, angst, and fluff.
Summary: Everything comes to an end.
Warnings: assault, fighting, blood, violence, mentions of murder, and death.
WC: 3.1K
Author’s Note: This is the final chapter of this series! Thank you to everyone who has read, liked, left comments, and sent me asks about this story! This was definitely a different genre for me and I struggled writing it sometimes because of that, but you guys gave me the courage to finish it! I hope you all enjoy it!
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Three entire months went by and again, neither of you heard anything from Bora. You and Hobi both reminded cautious though, given the pattern Bora had of completely leaving you alone before randomly popping up and causing chaos in your lives again. 
By that point, the news of what Bora had done began to spread throughout the city and the police were even more determined to find her. Personally, you were convinced that the girl had either had extensive plastic surgery or had crawled into a hole, refusing to come out because there was no way that no one was able to catch sight of her in a city of nine million people. 
The entire situation had also began to take it’s toll on your marriage. As much as you hated to admit it, you realized that you resented Hobi because in your mind, none of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t been so nice to the woman. In return, Hobi began to become frustrated with you because although he understood where you were coming from, it wasn’t his fault and there wasn’t much he could do to deter Bora’s ambitions. 
After a few weeks of back and forth arguments and silent treatments, Hobi suggested that the both of you go to counseling which you readily agreed to. It was tough to open up about having someone literally try to murder you but after only a few weeks, you noticed great changes. You and Hobi had started to get back to the way you were when you first moved to Seoul and that made you happier than anything else. 
“I’m gonna miss you so much, you know that?” Hobi said into the phone and you giggled as you finished putting the last of your toiletries into your suitcase. 
“I know, you told me 20 times before you left this morning,” you smiled. One of your therapists suggestions was that you take a trip somewhere in order to relax and rejuvenate once you were fully healed. Since you had finals coming up in another month, you decided to take a short weekend trip to Jeju with Soonyoung, Namjoon’s fiancée, and Dara, Taehyung’s girlfriend after you got the clearance from your doctor.
“You have your mace with you, right?” Hobi checked. “And your personal alarm?”
“Yes and yes,” you assured him. “Got my brass knuckles too. They’re in my bag.”
“Good,” he sighed in relief. “What time are you meeting with the girls?”
“I’m about to go pick up Dara and we’re gonna meet Soonyoung at the airport,” you said. “Our flight leaves at 3.”
“Ok, well I’ll let you go since it’s already 12:30,” your husband replied. “Please watch your surroundings and call me when you land. Oh, and don’t forget to set the alarm system.”
“I will,” you replied. “I love you baby.”
“I love you more,” Hobi responded. “Have a good time.”
“Alright, bye,” you said before hanging up the phone. Just as you set your phone down on the bed and went to zip up your suitcase, your phone rung again. Picking it back up, you saw Dara’s name and hurriedly answered it.
“Hey!” 
“Hey, are you on your way?” Dara wondered and you nodded to yourself as you slid the suitcase off of the bed and onto the floor. 
“I’m about to leave the house now,” you told her, taking a quick glance around the room to make sure that you weren’t forgetting anything. 
“Thank God because Taehyung is gonna make me murder his ass!” Dara shouted and you knew your friend well enough to know that she wanted to make sure that Taehyung heard her. Sure enough, you heard him yell his reply back to her. 
“Fucking do it and take me out of my misery then!” 
“What is going on with you two now?” You laughed as you slung your purse over your shoulder before grabbing the handle of your suitcase and making your way out of the bedroom and down the steps. 
“He’s acting like he’s dying because we’re going on our girls’ trip!” She exclaimed. “You’d think the man had abandonment issues or some shit.”
“I do, and they’re from you!” Taehyung hollered, which made you crack up on the phone. 
“Oh my gosh, he has lost it,” you giggled, opening the front door and taking a quick second to make sure that it was locked before walking out and shutting it behind you. “Well, I’m literally getting into my car now so I’ll be there in about 10 minutes.”
“Good, I’ll be waiting by the front door,” Dara sighed and you just shook your head before hanging up the phone. After hurriedly throwing your bags into the backseat, you got into your car and started it up, easily pulling out of the driveway and heading down the street.
10 minutes later, you pulled up in front of Dara and Taehyung’s apartment complex and sent her a quick text to let her know that you were waiting for her. She was obviously seriously about having been waiting by the front door because she appeared through the doors in record time. After throwing her suitcase into the backseat alongside yours, she then climbed into the passenger seat. 
“Girl’s trip 2022 is in full effect!” Dara shouted, making you laugh as you leaned over and gave her a one armed hug. 
“You have everything, right?” You asked. “I don’t want to have to have to turn around and Soonyoung will fuss if we’re late.”
“Yeah, I think so,” Dara murmured before going through her mental checklist. “Purse, suitcase, phone, keys, I didn’t have to set the alarm because Tae’s in the house-”
“Oh shit!” You exclaimed, smacking your hand up against your forehead. 
“What?”
“I forgot to set the alarm at the house,” you sighed heavily, reaching down and starting the ignition. “I’ll have to swing back around.”
“That’s fine,” Dara replied. “Oh, did you pack that bucket hat of yours that I love? The pink one with graphic print?” 
“No but we can grab it at the house,” you told her. “As long as you promise to return it!”
“I always do, don’t I?”
“No.”
“Damn, you don’t forget anything, do you?” Dara huffed, making you smile as you drove in the direction of your house. 10 minutes later, you pulled back into the driveway, and you and Dara quickly hopped out, walking up to the front door. 
“You go ahead upstairs and get the hat while I set the alarm,” you told her after you let the two of you inside the house. “It’s on the rack of hats in our closet. You can’t miss it.”
“Ok, be right back,” Dara nodded before turning around and jogging up the steps. While you bent down to punch the code into the touchpad, you heard a yelp that was followed by a surprisingly loud thud. Whipping around, you looked up towards the landing but you couldn’t hear anymore movement. 
“Dara?” You called out, your brows furrowing when you didn’t receive a response. You walked over to the steps then and began to climb them, your eyes widening at what you saw when you got to the top.
Dara was laid out of the ground, seemingly unconscious with a rapidly growing pool of blood underneath her head. 
You rushed over to her, a loud gasp escaping your throat when you saw the sizeable wound on the side of her head which is where the blood was coming from. 
“Dara! Dara, open your eyes for me,” you pleaded, your eyes becoming thick with wetness. “Dara, come on!”
“Yoohoo,” a voice whistled and when you looked towards it, you saw Bora sitting on your and Hobi’s bed. She had a red set of lingerie on her body, with matching stockings and high heels. The thing that had bile threatening to rise in your throat though, was the hammer that was hanging out of her hand, with bright red blood still dripping from it. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You asked darkly. 
“Some little bimbo didn’t set the alarm system,” Bora smiled. “Which made it easier for me anyways since Hobi asked me to meet him here.”
“Like hell he did,” you shot back. 
“Why can’t you just admit it?” Bora wondered as she stood up from the bed and not wanting to leave yourself defenseless, you stood up as well. “He wants to be with me so why couldn’t you just leave peacefully?”
“Because he’s never asked me to leave. In fact, he begged me to stay and I know you heard that for yourself,” you replied, smirking lightly when you saw her hard demeanor fall a little bit. “Now, I’m going to call the police and let them deal with you while I try to save my best friend’s life.”
“You don’t want to do that,” Bora said as she surged forward and when you realized that she was going to grab your arm, you stepped backwards out of her reach.
“Do not touch me,” you warned her. 
“Or what?” Bora chuckled. “You gonna do something about it?” She reached out and grabbed your wrist, and your immediate reaction was to push her away from her. You pushed her so hard that she stumbled backwards and fell against the bed, and her stare when she looked up at you after steadying herself was murderous. 
“Oh, you want to play, bitch?” Bora asked as she stood up straight, her hands completely free since the hammer had fallen out of her hands. “Let’s play then.”
Before you could even reply, Bora rushed you, her hands wrapping around your throat. You went into survival mode, bringing both of your arms up in between Bora’s and bracing them, forcing her hands from around your throat. You then punched her dead in the face, knocking her down onto the ground. Lifting her leg, she kicked you in the knee, making you scream as the muscles buckled and caused you to fall down onto the ground. 
“Fucking bitch!” Bora screamed as she leaned over and climbed on top of you, hitting you in the nose. You instantly began to feel something wet coming from your nose and you knew that it was blood. You also knew by the way your nose felt that she had probably just broken it, and that only served to piss you off more. 
“Get the fuck off of me!” You hollered, sitting up and managing to knock Bora off of you. You then got on top of her, grabbing ahold of her hair and lifting her head up just so that you could punch her back down to the ground.
“You tried to kill me,” you snapped, slapping her hard. “You tried to kill my fucking husband.” Another slap. “You broke my fucking ankle and had me doubting myself and my marriage. You better hope I don’t fucking kill your ass.”
“Like you’d have the guts,” Bora challenged, yelling out in pain when you punched her in the eye. 
“Try me,” you dared her. Taking both of your hands, you took a firm grip on her hair and forced her head down onto the ground, slamming her head into the wood. As you did, you noticed that her hand was reaching upwards over her head and when you looked, you realized that she was reaching for the discarded hammer. You snatched her hand up by the wrist, holding it so tightly that you knew it had to be painful as you continued to bang her head against the floor with your other hand. 
You both went back and forth like that for a while, struggling against each other and landing blows where you could. 
Somehow, Bora managed to get from underneath you and as soon as she did, she ran out of the bedroom and down the hall. You were hot on her trail though, chasing after her and grabbing her by her bra strap, yanking her backwards and throwing her down onto the ground. Bora rolled away from you, moving closer to the top of the stairs and you went after her, bending down to punch her again. When you did though, Bora grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled you with her as the two of you went rolling down the stairs. 
The fall was even more terrifying than you remembered it to be, with the addition of another person falling alongside you and their limbs also hitting you at the same time that the steps did. When you landed at the bottom this time, the same amount of pain flooded your senses but as far as you could tell, nothing was broken and no new blood was coming out of your body. 
“Fuck,” you sighed, taking your time as you sat up straight from where you had landed. Looking around, you realized that Bora wasn’t next to you and that put you right back on edge. You looked around wildly for her but you didn’t see her. 
It took you about a good two minutes to lift yourself up off of the floor but once you did and were able to shake yourself off, you seemed ok and that’s when you began to slowly walk through the house to look for Bora. You could see that she wasn’t in the kitchen and as you made your way through the living room, you saw that she wasn’t there either. 
“Come out, Bora!” You shouted. “You could push me down the fucking steps when my back was turnt but you can’t fight me face to face?!”
Tip toeing down the hall, you saw the door to the office was opened and when you peaked inside, you still didn’t see Bora. Cautiously taking a step inside, you looked around and allowed yourself to relax just a little bit when she still wasn’t visible.
“Turn around bitch,” you suddenly heard her voice and when you turned around, Bora ran towards you and pushed a stapler into your right shoulder. 
“Fuck!” You bellowed and Bora took advantage of you being preoccupied with the pain to punch you in your stomach twice in quick succession. She then punched you in the face which sent you falling to the ground, seemingly unconscious. 
“Damn,” Bora huffed, bending down and placing her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “God, I did not want to have to kill you, bitch but you just wouldn’t go the fuck away so now I have to kill you before Hobi gets home and bury both you and your little friend. I’ll also have to deal with Hobi mourning you but whatever. I can get him to forget your whiny ass pretty easily and if in the off chance I can’t, I’ll just kill him like I killed Akiro.” 
Bora looked down at your unmoving body and felt overcome with a feeling of peace as she looked down at the enemy she had, seemingly, finally vanquished. 
“Just one last hit for my satisfaction,” Bora said as she raised her foot to kick you in the stomach. When she did though, you opened your eyes and grabbed her leg, making her fall onto the floor hard. You elbowed her in the eye, taking pleasure in the way that she screamed as you rolled over to get on top of her. 
Zoning out, you dealt several devastating blows to her face, head, and chest and by the time you realized what you were doing and stopped hitting her, Bora was knocked out with a mangled face. You backed away from her and stood up straight again, gasping at how much blood covered your body and hands. Remembering Dara, you went to turn your back on Bora to go back upstairs and call the police but you remembered every other time you turned your back on that woman.
When you turned back to look at Bora, sure enough, she had gotten up off of the floor and was running over to you.
“That’s all you got, bitch?!” Bora screamed and without thinking, you lifted your leg up and kicked her in the stomach. The strength of your leg extending outwards propelled Bora backwards to where she fell through the window, crashing into the sharp bushes that sat outside. When you walked over to look, you saw branches literally sticking out of her body and her eyes were wide open. 
She was dead. 
“Huh, fuck,” you panted, allowing yourself to breathe easier now that you weren’t actively fighting anymore. Before you could even think about your next moves, you heard the sounds of sirens relatively close so with one last look at Bora, you walked out of the office and down the hallway into the living room. Hobi burst through the door then, his eyes widening as he ran over to you while several paramedics and police officers filed in behind him. 
“Baby, you’re ok!” Hobi exclaimed as he gently cupped your face in his hands, placing kisses all over your face in relief. Being in the safety of your husband’s arms caused the dam to break, and you found yourself sobbing harshly as you clutched his shirt in your hands. 
“H-how did you, how did you know?” You asked through your tears.
“Dara managed to call me and 911,” he explained and you lifted your head as you began to look around wildly. 
“Dara! I have to go to Dara!” You screamed as you tried to turn around and walk up the steps but Hobi wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against his body. 
“The paramedics will take care of her but you need to take care of yourself,” he told you firmly.
“Bora...s-she hit Dara with a, a hammer,” you stammered before bursting out into more tears and burying your face into your husband’s chest. 
“Ok, breathe for me, please,” Hobi said and you did your best to try and regulate your breathing. 
“Excuse me,” Officer Ito said and both you and Hobi looked over at him. “Is she still here?”
“In the office,” you muttered. 
“Dead?” 
“What do you think?” You replied smartly, and Officer Ito sighed heavily before reaching out and gently patting your shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” he told you before walking through the living room and down the hallway, followed by several other officers. 
“I’m so fucking sorry baby, for all of this,” Hobi said and you looked at him. “I’ll never be able to make it up to you for putting you in this situation.”
“It’s not your fault,” you assured him. “She was just...fucking psychotic.”
“You’re right but it’s all over now, ok?” Hobi said and you nodded before wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly.
“It’s all over,” you whispered to yourself, letting your eyes to flutter closed as the nightmare finally ended. 
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mysteriawrites · 11 months
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Hello! I'm here to request a romantic MHA matchup if you could please! I'm a 17 year old female but I look and act mature for my age(due to trauma) so I often get mistaked for being older than I am sometimes. Some good qualities of mine are maturity, being level headed, and being motherly/caring. Some bad traits can include bluntness, coming off as cold, and forgetfulness. I'm an introvert so i hate being around crowds and speaking infront of people I also have social anxiety so that doesn't help... I would much prefer staying at home watching anime and cuddling my pets rather than going out... More of my fun and loud side comes out around my friends or the right people. My hobbies or things I enjoy include hanging out with friends, swimming, listening to music, art(especially pottery), laying in bed on my phone, animals(I currently work with animals as a job), watching anime and other TV series, the ocean(I love water if I could choose a quirk it would be water based), stargazing(I love galaxies, the moon and stars I find everything so fascinating), the colors black, blue, purple, then finally the goth/emo style and aesthetic! Some dislikes of mine are bananas, P.E./sports(volleyball is okay tho), and men/father figures in my life-. My music taste includes the artists, The Neighborhood, Girl In Red, The Arctic Monkeys, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, Alec Benjamin, Corpse, Cave town, Conan Gray and Cigarettes after sex! I'm omnisexual so either gender could work but in mha I lean towards having a stronger preference for the guys compared to the girls so do with that what you will. Traits I dislike in others are immaturity, impatience, disrespect, pushing boundaries, and not listening. Traits I look for in others are respect, kindness, understanding, patience, and humor. A bit about my appearance is I have longish black hair, pale skin, freckles, i'm a bit chubby, and tall(5'8). Im also very insecure and I doubt myself a lot but I'm trying to work on that! Some love languages include words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch and sometimes acts of service. I have mental and physical health issues so I would need someone who could accept and be able to handle that. I would also need someone that would accept that I have trauma as well. I would want this relationship to be a two way thing so its very important that they give the same effort I'm giving into the relationship. I would prefer not to be matched with Denki, Bakugou, Iida, Tokoyami or any adult since I'm a minor. I think thats it... I'm sorry if I missed anything you needed or if this is to long! I understand if you don't get to me right away! I hope your having a nice day! Thank you!
Hello Hello thank you for the request. I'm sorry about all the things you've had to go through, and I hope this makes you a little happier even if only for the amount of time it takes you to read it. Maestro if you will...DRUMROLL PLEASE!!!
🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁
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IZUKU MIDORYA!!!
I think Midoriya is the one who will best be able to heal your heart. You've both been through such hardships in your lives, Izuku would be the one to help you overcome you struggles and traumas with his determination and big heart.
When you first come to UA, you're a bit like Todoroki was, closed off and kept to yourself. The girls tried to pull you into their activities, and you would to avoid being rude, but you were quiet and preferred to keep to yourself.
Midoriya didn't like how you were alone all the time and seemed to be hurting. he wouldn't push and make you uncomfortable, but he would try and make more of an effort to be your friend.
He would offer for you guys, to train, eat lunch, and study together, but you would usually say no. Until one day during the internships (yes you guys ended up at the same agency by pure coincidence) he took a hit for you.
After you guys got back, your mama bear switch turned on and you made him sit down so you could heal his wounds. You lectured him on how reckless he was and asked him why he would do such a dangerous thing for you, and he said it was because he cared about you.
After that you soften up a bit. You would take Midoriya up on his offers to hang out, although at first it would only just be the two of you. Over time however he starts to introduce you to the rest of group deku and you all become a very tight nit circle of friends.
As the friends to lovers trope tends to go, as you two got closer Midoryia started to fall for you. Now as brave as he may well be we all know that he can be an awkward little nerd, so when he realized this, he started panicking.
He goes to his friends for help, but they don't seem to be able to help much. Idia and Todoroki don't know a lot about romance, and he is too shy Asui and Ururaka (although they had figured it out already) so he goes to the he looks up to the most: Almight.
Almight's advice for him was that all he had to do was speak from the heart and be himself. So that's what he did. He walked up to you one day and asked if you could speak in private where he confessed his feelings for you.
You and Midoriya's dates usually consist of sharing each other's interests. You guys will watch your favorite animes together (sometimes he will act out the scenes to make you laugh). He may not be super into art, but he loves every single masterpiece you make for him. He also likes to take you out to eat, but you guys eat outside or take it to go and eat it somewhere nice to avoid large crowds.
You also scold Midoriya for hurting himself all the time. That he can't save anyone if he doesn't take care of himself. And he takes care of you and allows your mature motherly facade to come down so you can be vulnerable for once and feel safe.
All in all, you guys are very wholesome. You understand each other's needs and take care of others as well. You cover each other's backs on and off the battlefield.
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Sorry this isn't as lengthy as the others im writing this at almost 3 am but I really want to stick to schedule so these can be done on time especially the anons to make sure they'll see them.
Runners Up: Kota Izumi, Shouji Mezou, Kirishima Ejiro
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sequinsmile-x · 2 years
Text
There for You
Emily isn't always the best at looking after herself, so sometimes Aaron has to do it for her.
Part of the Glittering Mica series
-x-
It has been a LONG time since I wrote this version of them. 13 months!! This is post-canon Hotchniss, and it is probably best to read at least the first fic (Glittering Mica) before you read this if you haven't done so before
Special shout out to @ssa-sparks who reminded me on Sunday that I promised her this AGES ago.
-x-
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: None!
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
He used to do her job so he understands it. Understands the pull, the intrigue. Why she continues to do it even though he sees how it sometimes settles under her skin, some cases harder to take than others even after all these years. He still feels a sense of responsibility even though he is no longer her superior, that he hasn’t been in years, and it’s not just because he is her husband. 
Aaron still felt guilty about leaving her with this job, pulling her back from London and to the place where she once struggled to find her role in a life that had been torn from her. He knew she would only ever say yes to his request for her to replace him, her loyalty one of the many traits he’d loved about her long before they ever got together. 
He understands when her phone rings at 3 am, tearing them both from sleep and her from his arms as she groans, rolling over to answer it before her voicemail gets there first. The greeting she gives the person on the other end is hoarse, her exhaustion clear, and it gets him out of bed even though he has nowhere to be. He kisses her forehead, her bangs askew from sleep and gets a tired, but loving, smile in return as he heads downstairs. 
He puts the coffee on to brew as he hears her step into the shower and starts organising breakfast when he hears the hair dryer. Something simple, quick. He knows her well enough to know that she would likely try to refuse to eat anything, her go bag slung over her shoulder as she gets ready to head to a town far away from home. 
He puts a couple of slices of toast on a plate and sets it on the counter, a cup of coffee with enough sweetener in to make his teeth ache next to it, as he hears her descend the stairs. She’s already talking to him when she walks into the kitchen. 
“I thought I could smell coffee,” she says, walking around the counter to kiss his cheek, reaching into the cabinet for her thermos so she can pour herself some, “you’re a lifesaver.” 
“I made you breakfast,” he replies, kissing her cheek before he tilts his head towards where he had set it up.
“That’s sweet, honey,” she says, fighting a yawn as she looks back from the counter to him, “but I’ve got to go.” 
Aaron rolls his eyes at her and takes her go bag off of her shoulder, setting it down on the floor before he guides her to the chair, making her sit before he sits next to her, not missing the way she glares at him.
“It’s two slices of toast and a cup of coffee sweetheart,” he quips, “I think you have time for that.” 
Emily scoffs but picks up one of the slices of toast, making a show of taking a bite. He laughs, knowing she’d never admit that he was right, that she’d ignore her stomach growling at her until the team had a late lunch.
“Where are you heading?” He asks, his hand on her lower back, taking in as much of her as he can before she leaves, knowing he’d miss her like he always did. 
“Ohio,” she replies, taking another bite of her toast, “their fourth body showed up a couple of hours ago, so the lead detective finally called us.” 
He smiles as he watches her all but inhale her second slice of toast, her eyes flitting between him and her watch. She stands before she’s even finished chewing, grabbing her coffee and pouring it into her thermos. 
“I really should go.” She says, turning to smile at him, “thank you for breakfast.” 
He cups her cheek, wiping at the corner of her mouth with his thumb and she frowns, making his smile widen.
“You had jam on your face,” he explains, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips, “I thought you wouldn’t appreciate walking onto the jet and having Alvez point it out.” 
“You’re right, I wouldn’t have,” she replies, leaning up to kiss him, hugging him quickly before she disentangles herself from him, grabbing her go bag from where she had placed it on the floor. “I’ll text when I can, ok?” 
“Ok, sweetheart,” he says, following her towards the front door, “be safe.” 
She turns and smiles at him as she unlocks the door, the cool night air flooding into their house. 
“I love you,” she says, stepping out onto the porch.
“I love you too.”
___
He’s concerned when she doesn’t come home. 
The team hasn’t picked up a case, she would have told him otherwise, her last text to him letting him know she’d be late. When the clock ticks over to 11 pm he checks Find my Friends, and is relieved, yet not surprised, to see she’s still in Quantico.
He leaves the house immediately, the traffic to the office mercifully light at this time of day. He makes it through security, exchanging a smile and a joke with the night security team. This routine of his and Emily’s familiar to him. 
He can’t help but smile when he finds her asleep on the couch in her office. She clearly fell asleep sitting up, case files next to her, but has slumped over, her head resting against the arm of the couch. He walks over, carefully moving the files to the desk, ensuring he doesn’t mix any of them up, before joining her on the couch. He places his hand on her shoulder and she immediately wakes, ever the light sleeper. 
“Em, it’s ok,” he says as she jumps, his hand running up and down her arm, “it’s me.”
“Aaron?” she asks, blinking her eyes open as she turns to look at him, her confusion clear as she takes in her surroundings, “Oh crap, I fell asleep.” 
“You did,” he replies, an amused smile on his face as he encourages her to lean into his side, something she does gladly, her head on his shoulder, “I was worried when you didn’t come home.” 
“I’m sorry, honey,” she says, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it, lifting their joint hands to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles, “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he kisses her temple, “did you eat?” He feels her tense against him, and he has his answer, and he sighs, “Em-”
“I know,” she groans cutting across him, “but I had casework, and then the budget review, and the deputy director breathing down my neck over an upcoming court case…time got away from me.” 
He holds her a little tighter, an apology he knows she doesn’t want on the tip of his tongue, guilt for leaving her to this job making his chest tight. But he knows that’s not what she wants, that she’s grateful he understands, that he is the only person who does. 
“Come on,” he says, standing up and gently pulling her up too, unable to stop the smile on his face when she immediately leans into him again, as if she was too tired to stand by herself, “we’re going home, via a fast food restaurant of your choice.” 
She smiles at him, her eyes giving away how tired she is, “Oh wow, what a romantic,” she jokes, and he shakes his head at her. 
“Well, I was going to take you to that Italian place you love tonight, but you fell asleep on the couch.” He replies, helping her into her jacket and picking up her briefcase for her. 
“The Italian place?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowing, and he sees the moment she realises. The way she closes her eyes and grimaces when she remembers it was supposed to be date night, something they had already had to rearrange. “Fuck, Aaron I am so sorry.” 
Her eyes well up, a true sign of how tired she must be if the thought of a missed date was making her emotional, and he shakes his head at her. 
“Baby, there’s nothing to apologise for,” he says softly, squeezing her hand as he leads her out of the office that was once his, “I get it.” 
“Next week?” She says, the guilt still not fully dissipating from her eyes. She wraps her hand around his arm as they walk down the stairs to the main bullpen together. 
He knows it isn’t that easy, that a case could come along and change their plans yet again, but he wants to do anything to wipe the sad look off of her face, her pain, emotional or physical, always his downfall. 
“Sounds good to me.”
___
He knows the moment he walks in the door that it’s been a bad day.
She’d text him throughout the time she was away on the case, vague details about how awful it was, how she’d been the one to tell the youngest victim’s family about their death. The moment he sees her he wants to ask, but he knows it won’t help. That she needs to work through it herself. There were times to push her, to ask questions she’d be angry at him for asking, but this wasn’t one of those times. 
He was home later than her for once, a late lecture he was talking at meant she made it back before him. He isn’t surprised to smell pizza in the air, or to see her go bag abandoned just inside the door. He finds her on the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around a cushion, her eyes fixed on the tv. Casablanca is playing, a favourite of hers when she was upset, but he knows she isn’t taking any of it in, her focus elsewhere. 
“Hi sweetheart,” he says, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She tilts her head back to look at him, a tight smile on her face.
“Hi,” she replies, kissing him quickly, “I left some pizza for you.” 
“Thanks,” he smiles at her, squeezing her shoulder slightly as he walks to the kitchen, “I’ll be back.”
He makes quick work of it, plating up a couple of slices of pizza for himself, and one for her because he knows she always steals some of his food. He joins her on the couch, and she immediately closes the gap between them, leaning against his side as she grabs one of the slices of pizza without comment. 
They eat in silence, the movie playing in the background, and when he’s done he places the plate on the table in front of them, wiping his fingers on the paper towel he’d brought with him. He gathers her properly in his arms, heaving her against his chest, his hand on her back.
“If you get grease marks on my clothes again I’ll kill you,” she mumbles, snuggling further into him without comment, “Dave still talks about the time your fingerprints were all over my white shirt.”
Aaron chuckles, “I know, that’s why I brought in the paper towels,” she hums her response, her fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. Whatever was bothering her playing on her mind. “Want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head against him. “No.” 
“What can I do to help?”
“This is good,” she replies, reaching for his hand and linking their fingers, “and maybe when the movie is done, we can have sex?” 
He laughs, pulling her impossibly closer, tilting her head up so he can kiss her. 
“I guess if it will make you feel better, I can handle having sex with you,” he jokes, feeling a surge of pride when she fights back a smile. “You’re such an ass,” she says, no malice in her voice as she pinches at his ribs. 
“I know, but you love me anyway.”
She settles against him again, her eyes fixed on the tv, a tragic love story that, in another life when they didn’t make it back to each other, could have closely resembled theirs playing out on screen.
“I really do.”
___
It’s Dave that tells him. 
Aaron was already sure something was wrong, the responses his wife sent him short and clipped. The team's delayed return home indicating that something had happened. 
Dave sends him a text, tells him that Spencer had got hurt, had needed some stitches but was fine, and Emily clearly wasn’t. 
He decides to meet the jet on the tarmac, smiling at the team as they disembark. He doesn’t miss the bandage on Spencer’s head, and he has a quick conversation with him before he leaves, JJ offering to drop him home. 
Emily is last off of the jet, and he sees the look of resignation on her face when their eyes meet. She walks over to him and lets herself get pulled into a hug, her body stiff in his embrace. 
“Who told you?”
He kisses the side of her head, pulling away so he can encourage her towards the car, their steps in line with each other as always.
“I’ll give you one guess.”
She scoffs, “Remind me to snap the spaghetti in front of him next time we have them all over for dinner.” 
He takes her bag from her and puts it in the trunk, and he joins her in the car, her gaze already fixed out of the passenger window.
“Em-”
“Not now,” she cuts him off, her voice thick, “When we get home.” He hesitates, his wife’s emotions so palpable that he can almost feel them, the air in the car thick with it. She must sense it, because she turns to look at him, her eyes shining, “please.” 
He nods, placing his hand on her thigh and giving it a quick squeeze before he starts the car. 
The journey home is silent, and he follows her in, closing the door behind them, ensuring the door is locked. He puts her bag down, and she walks towards the kitchen without looking back. He sighs as he follows her, and finds her with a bottle of wine in her hands, two glasses already out on the side. 
“Sweetheart-”
“Please don’t say it’s not my fault,” she says, opening the bottle and pouring the drinks for them. 
“But it isn’t.” He replies simply, unsurprised and undeterred when she looks up at him, fury in her eyes that he knows has nothing to do with him. 
“I sent him in first, it was my call and he got hurt,” she says through gritted teeth, putting the bottle down on the counter with a little more force than necessary, “how is that anything other than my fault.” 
Aaron takes a step towards her, his hand at her lower back, and he’s glad when she doesn’t flinch. 
Her relationship with Spencer had always been different, the depth of it forged in the days they had spent in a cult’s compound years ago. She’d taken a beating for him then, something Aaron could still hear echoing in his head even now if he thought about it too much. Then there was her fake death, Spencer’s reaction to it and her return. The time he spent in prison, the choices Emily had made to get him out that she admitted to Aaron in the dark of their bedroom, shame he knew she would never entirely shift in her voice. That combined with the duty she felt for her team, a burden he knew all too well, meant this was harder for her, and he knows she’d rather it was her with the concussion than their friend. 
“It isn’t your fault,” he repeats, his voice firm. She turns to look at him, tears spilling onto her cheeks as she does so, “it’s down to the man who hit him in the head with a gun, and no one else.” He wipes his thumb under her eye, catching another tear. “This isn’t on you, and Reid wouldn’t want you blaming yourself either.” 
She breaks, a sob escaping her as she leans into him, holding him tightly. Her hands are fisted in the back of his shirt, and her forehead is against his neck, her tears hot against his skin. He holds her back just as fiercely, his hand rubbing up and down her back gently. She calms down slowly, her breathing more even. 
“It’s ok,” he mumbles into the top of her head, “I’m right here.” 
“It’s just…fuck. I have no idea how you did this job for so long.” She says against him, pulling back to look at him. “I feel bad for all the times I called you a hardass.” 
He frowns down at her, his hand cupping her cheek. “I don’t remember you calling me that.”
“It was almost exclusively behind your back.” 
He chuckles, shaking his head at her as she smiles up at him, her eyes still shining. “Are you ok?” 
She nods slowly, settling back against him. “I will be,” she holds him a little tighter, “I have you.” 
-x-
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kittyt-hexxed · 2 years
Text
Book Two of Hexed - The Fury of Zaun (Vi/POC!Reader) - Ch. 12
Series Masterlist
Next Upload Date: September 8th
Act 1: Chapter Twelve - Blood Feud
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Warnings: Graphic Violence, Blood, Death, Sad Sevika, Sad Vi
Summary: Before the big fight, you and Jinx discuss your first mission. When it's time for the fight, heads roll as you learn just how dangerous your crystal weapons can be.
Author Note: Pretend that Vi isn't in this picture... I can't find a good one of Sevika's glowing blade. Also, you're welcome to message me or send something through my asks! Thank you to everyone who has!
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You sit on the lounging deck with a cup of hot chocolate in your hand. A pair of birds are perched on the railing next to each other. You glance down at the sketchbook in your lap and smile at how it perfectly captures the cute pair. You place your cup down and get comfortable on the couch. You look up at the sound of feet on the deck and smile sweetly as Jinx returns with more colored pencils for her drawing. She gives you a cheery wave and puts her hot chocolate down. You lift up your legs so she can sit and hand the sketchbook over to her. You return to reading the update Priestess had sent to you this morning.
“The number of people needing support has gone up.” You sigh softly, “They don’t have enough to give out, and the shelter we built is full… We need to figure something out and fast.”
“Have you gone over the shipment logs for this month?” Jinx’s eyes flick to you and back to the birds. You nod your head and pull the blanket tighter to your body. The mist from the waterfall kept the area chilly in the morning time.
“There’s a new shipment of food coming into Piltover along with fabric. Since there’s a surplus of that stuff Topside, there are only six crates of food coming in and five crates of fabric.” You watch as her pencil glides over the paper, “That’s a sixth of the usual shipments.”
“Do you know how much is sent in each crate?” Jinx shifts closer to you.
“Enough to keep the people from starving.” You count out the math on your fingers, “Theoretically if we do it right, it could last us a month. We’d have to ration, but we have to, anyway. These families are used to little to no food, so we wouldn’t want to shock their bodies with too much at once. Refeeding syndrome is something we’ll have to be mindful of. Janna’s Faithful can manage distribution-” You tap your chin in thought.
“-We’d need to get the crates first.” Jinx lowers her sketchbook, “The question is how do we do that without getting caught?”
“That’s why we have to come up with a plan, crow brain.” You kick her leg. Jinx huffs and hits you with the pencil in her hand. You giggle and take a sip from your drink.
“Have… you had any trouble sleeping?” Jinx bites her lip as she hesitates. You pause and reluctantly nod your head.
“I haven’t slept well since we blew up the councilor’s building.” You watch the marshmallows swirl around in your cup, “If I’m not having bad dreams, they’re nice ones that make me cry when I wake up. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my memories that I’m up too late and don’t get enough sleep.”
“It's been the same for me.” Jinx sighs and stretches her legs out, “The only good thing that has come out of it is that I’m spending more time upgrading my weapons.”
“I finished creating the masks within two nights because I couldn’t fall asleep.” You chuckle and swallow the rest of the liquid in your cup.
“Do you think… Vi is struggling to sleep, too?” Jinx finally turns to you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“If she wasn’t, there would really be something wrong with her.” You say seriously, “You know that Vi has always struggled with her conscious.”
“I know, but I needed to hear someone else say it.” Jinx nods, “She’s probably having a horrible time Topside.”
“Probably, but who knows, her cupcake got promoted to Sheriff.” You shrug, “Maybe she’s living it up and forgot all about us.” Jinx scoffs before letting out a chuckle.
“Wouldn’t that be interesting?” Jinx turns the sketchbook to you, revealing her finished art, “Violet forgetting about the three most important people in her life for a Piltie. It sounds like one of those storybooks she used to read to me.” She says bitterly. Yet, her tone didn’t match the pleasant drawing of the lovebirds snuggling on the railing. Not even a single Jinx doodle was in sight.
~
Dawn sits at the entrance to the aisle as the rest of you file into your seats. The stone was warm underneath you as it usually was down in the pits. A thin veil of steam filled the air as it rose from nearby water geysers. Seated around you are open supporters of Sevika and her gang and the Furies. You can hear the soft buzzing of the Firelight’s hoverboards as they hang out above you. People are still filing into the rows and you glance down at your pocket watch.
“There are five minutes left until they start the fight.” You say as it snaps shut.
“Jir will be introducing them any minute.” Torx points out, “He doesn’t like being late.”
“They will succeed in this fight.” Dawn says with no concern, “They’re strong warriors.”
“Indeed. I was charmed to see how well they fight together.” Cassius nods his head, “They managed to hold out against Dawn and me for more than five minutes.”
“Others would have lost an arm by then.” Dawn smirks and your group giggles at the joke.
“Although her new arm may feel like a real one, I doubt Sevika wants to lose the other.” Fue snorts.
“Who knows!” Jinx shrugs playfully, “Maybe she’d want to duel-wield swords! I know I would!” You laugh and your conversation is cut off by the sound of a whistle. All noise in the stands goes quiet and Jir steps out on the podium. The giant man was covered in red fabric like the rest of the crowd, making his bushy hair stand out.
“When a life is taken in cold blood, it may be repaid in hot-blooded battle… So today, we will be witnesses to this repayment… or new debt.” Jir’s voice booms through the area, “Chem-Baron Finn was slain in cold blood by the Tiger of Zaun, Sevika!” Loud cheers sound but are quickly squashed when Jir raises his fist. You shuffle your feet as your excitement for the fight builds. With a glance at your company, you can see how jittery they are too.
“As an associate of Chem-Baron Finn, the Chem-Baron Renni has called for repayment… by Blood Feud.” Jir’s voice trembles slightly as he says this. Outraged screams break out as what he said sets into the crowd.
‘If I may be so bold?’ Umbra politely speaks up. You blink in surprise and clear your throat. ‘You may be.’ Torx puts her arm over your shoulder and you wrap yours around her waist. ‘Why are they so outraged by a blood feud? What is it?’ Your hand around Torx is grabbed by Jinx, who’s holding hands with Fue.
‘A Blood Feud means the action will not be repaid until the death of one of the parties. Most disputes are settled with a Body Feud. It’s a fight until the other is knocked out and unable to continue fighting.’ The crowd finally silences and Jir sighs. He told you that he had protested this course of action saying that it was too extreme, but Renni had insisted. As the Monster of the Pit, there were only so many decisions he could sway.
Jir clears his throat and indicates to someone out of sight. “The rules for this fight are simple. Melee weapons only. They’ve been pre-checked by me and are all cleared for battle. The fight will end when either one or both parties are dead!” A loud bell rings as the gates open and Sevika and her team stroll out. On the opposite side of the arena, Renni’s fighters emerge and you can’t help the scowl on your face.
“Fucker.” Torx hisses, “They’re ten to five. We knew this would happen, but that doesn’t make it any less shitty!” She throws her hands up, jostling you. You pay close attention as Jir steps off of the podium and shakes hands with Sevika and the leader of the other team. You didn’t recognize any of them, but that wouldn’t matter in a few minutes anyway. ‘Renni has sent these people to die. I think she expected that Sevika was cocky enough to fight on her own.’ You hum in amusement as Jir jumps out of the arena and the two groups face each other. ‘Unbeknownst to Zaun, things have changed for Sevika.’
“Furies - Don’t you dare die down there.” You chide them, “Or we’ll have to eat the spiced chocolate cake Dawn made without you.” They didn’t respond but you could see that they heard you from the way they perked up. Snickers sound next to you as the bell rings again and the Chem-Baron’s pawns rush forward. You tighten your grip on Jinx’s hand in excitement as they get closer to each other. There is no hesitation as Zara whirls around and lashes out with her whip. The light reflecting off of it is the only indication of where it’s going, as it wraps around the first guy’s neck. With an aggressive yank, blood pours down and you’re a witness to the man’s head getting torn from his shoulders. ‘I knew the crystal weapons would be different from regular ones, but… I didn’t see this coming. This is the first time we’ve tested them on people.’ The shocked look on Zara’s blood-splattered face was shared by everyone else in the pit.
“HOLY SHIT!” Someone screams and the crowd goes wild, including you and your group. The wild cheers jolt the fighters into moving and Sevika takes the attention as she intercepts the next person, swiping their feet out from under them and skewering them on her sword. Your eyes widen when you see a woman trying to sneak up on Sevika. That plan is ruined as Landon leaps over the headless body with a cackle and brings her axe down on her.
“Ah!” Cassius winces sympathetically as the axe cleaves her arm off. The woman’s scream pierces the air and you can’t restrain the laugh that breaks past your lips as it's perfectly cut off. ‘Oh my Gods, I didn’t mean to laugh but that was hilarious!’ Before her body hits the ground, you notice Auvern sliding across the gravel, slicing the ankles of two others as they run at her. Ran uses one of the falling opponents as a springboard, flipping through the air and planting her feet on an unfortunate vastaya beside them.
“I can see Ran and Auv have been training together.” Fue pipes up.
“Their styles suit one another.” You nod. Auvern springs up to her feet, flipping the sickles around and driving her blades through their backs and out of their chests.
“Woah! Sometimes I forget Auvern grew up in the assassin clans.” Torx gasps.
“She’s scary.” Jinx nods, “But it’s so cool!” You grin proudly as Ran springs off of the vastaya before plunging their swords into his eyes as they come down. Pained shouts come from the crowd as some people cover their eyes in sympathetic pain. If people didn’t know before, they now know that the Furies mean business. When Ran’s feet hit the floor, they’re already moving to Sevika and the others.
“KICK THEIR ASSES, SEVIKA! YOU’VE GOT BIG MUSCLES! USE THEM!” Jinx screeches as the group gathers into a wide circle around the remaining opponents. Their panicked faces bring you joy as your friends' smirks and grins contrast them. ‘It’s like a coyote toying with a desert shrew.’ Umbra muses, seeing through your eyes as they slowly move in. You nod in agreement, too immersed in the action to process what she said.
“A beautiful tactic.” Cassius notes, “They’re using their opponents' fear against them. A caged animal will attack in a last-ditch effort to kill or escape.”
“Be the predator, never the prey.” You quote Cassius’ words back to him, “Wait. And you’ll find your task is easier than you previously thought.” One of the people in the center lets out a wild scream as they rush Zara. Zara uses her whip to shield herself, the glaive bouncing off of the material with a clang, and makes the attacker stumble. She kicks them down, throwing her whip at their midsection as they fall. As that happens, the other four charge in and the screams that follow make the people in front of you recoil in horror.
The anxious silence in the pit is broken by deafening cheers as Sevika and her team steps away from the mess. You scream with elation and jump out of your seat with everyone, the adrenaline from watching the fight courses through you as you begin chanting.
“SEVIKA! SEVIKA! SEVIKA!” The crowd chants together, howls breaking through the screaming.
“AND SEVIKA’S CREW WINS THE FIGHT!” Jir roars over the crowd, “LET IT BE KNOWN THAT SEVIKA HAS PAID HER DEBT!”
~
You knock on the door to Sevika’s apartment, fiddling with the vial of Digitalis as you wait for her to open the door. You had delivered vials to the others, Ran giving you a hug in thanks, and Sevika was intentionally your last stop. The door opens and Sevika doesn’t say anything as she steps aside for you to come in. There’s dried blood on her from a few cuts, but the most came from the wound on her shoulder. You close the door behind you and give her a small smile.
“You look exhausted, Vika.” You lightly touch her shoulder, knowing that it’s injured, “Why don’t you let me help you take care of your wounds?”
“I don’t need any help.” Sevika rasps, exhaustion thick in her voice, “I can manage on my own.” She reaches for the vial but you shake your head. You grab her hand and lead her into the bathroom before she has a chance to complain.
“I know you’ve never had anyone to help you before, but now you do.” You close the door and cross your arms, “And to prove my point, strip.” You say bluntly. She rolls her eyes.
“I’m not going to strip. You should go finish your rounds and check on the others.” Sevika crosses her arms with a small wince.
“I already did. You’re my last check-in.” You mimic her and cross your arms, “Now stop being stubborn and let me help you.” She shakes her head and takes the vial from you, gingerly setting it in the rack made for it. You silently watch as she takes out her towel and avoids using her right arm. ‘Must she be so stubborn when she’s clearly in pain?’
“Sevika.” You say with a firm warning tone. You approach her, grabbing the edge of her shirt, “I’m going to help you. I see you avoiding your shoulder, which means it hurts more than you’re showing. This isn’t my first time helping an injured and stubborn person.” You chuckle. ‘Vi used to do the same thing until she learned I’ll help anyways.’ Sevika sighs heavily but silently lets you take off her shirt. You carefully ease it away from her wound and place it in the clothes basket. Now that you can see it properly, it was deeper than it seemed. Your eyes flick up to get confirmation, a small nod, before continuing to help her undress. You let her remove her wrappings on her own and set the bath.
The steam rising from the bath tells you that it’s a hotter day outside. ‘Summer is around the corner.’ You pick up the vial of Digitalis, uncork it, and pour it into the running water.
“It’s going to sting at first, but it should feel soothing after a few seconds.” You explain as you turn off the water and step over to her.
“I don’t care.” Sevika shrugs lightly, “As long as it does its job.” You help her into the tub, respectfully glancing away as she lowers herself down. The hissing sigh that she makes signals that it found some of her injuries.
“Close your eyes and let your body submerge in the water.” You instruct her. Sevika obeys, closing her eyes and relaxing her muscles. You watch as the pinkish water covers her shoulder and she flinches.
“I’ve… always done this myself.” Sevika whispers, eyes still closed, “I’ve been on my own for years.” You gently wipe away the dried blood from one of the cuts on her arm.
“I know.” You whisper back, “I want you to know that I’m here for you. There’s no need to be guarded around me… or the others.”
“I think I’ve opened up enough.” Sevika jokes as she cracks her eyes open, her voice returning to normal volume, “What more could you want from me?” You chuckle at her question and lean in closer to get her shoulder.
“I want you as you are.” You say simply and tenderly clean her shoulder wound. Sevika’s hand grips your wrist and you pause your actions. Her head was tilted down, hair hiding her face as she speaks up.
“You don’t realize how much you’ve done for me these past few months.” Sevika’s voice comes out low, trembling, “I’ve never really had a purpose. I knew I wanted to help others, but I didn’t see much past that. You helped me realize that there’s more to life than surviving.” You reach out, pausing briefly, before tucking her hair behind her ear. You make eye contact and a soft gasp leaves your lips as a tear slides down her cheek.
“Sevika, none of us know what we’re doing. I cling to those I love because I don’t have anything else. But, having each other makes surviving less unbearable.” You grab her chin, “My dream for Zaun is to give people a chance at life. No more surviving… and I want you by my side when that happens. You, you deserve to live, too.” Your heart breaks as Sevika starts crying. You embrace her as her sniffles turn to sobs and you run your fingers through her hair.
“I’ve always admired you, Vika.” You utter quietly, “Please, lean on me. You swore and put your trust in me. Your burdens are mine and your life is in my hands. I won’t let you feel worthless for as long as I live. That’s a promise.” Sevika meets your eyes one more time and gives you a teary smile.
“I’ve always admired you.” She chuckles, “Your brother, too. I remember Vander telling me about your home situation, and Ekko would run up to me with his new creations to show them off. You’re a resourceful duo, and it’s fitting where you ended up in the Zaun hierarchy.” You notice that the wound has started closing and continue to clean it up.
“Zaun’s hierarchy, huh?” You chuckle, “I never expected I end up at the top.”
“Well, you did… and not just because people are terrified of what you can do. They respect you.” Sevika stands up, wounds fully healed, “After today, you’ll really be able to tell… My Lady.” She gives you a teasing grin and you throw her towel at her face.
“That’s it! I’m telling Ran you like them!” You huff, crossing your arms.
“You wouldn’t!” Sevika gasps, “I haven’t told them anything yet!”
“Well, stop being so moody.” You stick your tongue out.
~
“How’d you feel seeing the Blood Feud today?” You approach Cassius and Dawn, who are enjoying a slice of the spiced cake. You sit down with them and yelp in surprise when Spear Hunter lands on your shoulder. The hawk tilts its head and chirps softly, nudging your cheek with its head. You giggle and stroke its breast feathers in greeting.
“It reminded me of the gladiator rings back home.” Dawn places her empty plate down, “We settle matters in a similar way, but it’s always one-on-one unless there are multiple offenders. The gladiator rings are typically for entertainment purposes only.”
“I’m impressed with your gang, Hexxit. If you’re going into battle, they will be valuable to you. The weapons you possess are also of interest.” Cassius raises an eyebrow.
“They’re created with metal and crystals that I… formed.” You blush, remembering the crystals growing along your hands, “I can have something created for the two of you. I’d have to make sure only you can wield your weapon though. I don’t want these weapons ending up in the wrong hands with how advanced they are.”
“Understandable. A weapon must be wielded in the right mindset or it’s a danger to everyone.” Dawn nods in understanding.
“Dawn has faced many opponents during her time with me.” Cassius chuckles.
“My greatest opponent yet is you, Sir.” Dawn waves him off, “I could not defeat you.”
“How did you end up swearing fealty to him, anyway?” Your eyes sparkle in interest.
“I was a warrior in one of the tribes he came to “conquer”.” Dawn snorts, “The tribe wasn’t aware and we geared up for a fight when we heard a Noxian was coming. Except, the day he arrived, he only requested to fight all of our warriors in a one-to-twenty battle… I didn’t last very long, and as a warrior, I felt shame.” She laughs but you can tell it still bothered her.
“In their culture, as a warrior, you don’t lose a battle unless it is in death.” Cassius clarifies, “When I learned, I approached them and told them a version of my secret.”
“I chose to swear fealty to him in hopes that I would learn to fight the way he does.” Dawn nudges Cassius with her foot, “While I have improved my skills, I have also found a new tribe. It is an honor to be friends with this man, even if he can get on my nerves.” She smiles happily.
“You put air quotes around conquer… That’s how you got your honorary title, isn't it?” You grin at Cassius as you connect the dots, “You lied.”
“I would be looked down upon by my fellow Warlords if they learned I only claim land to protect the tribes. Many of these tribes have ancient practices and ancient magic that Noxian conspirators wish to get their hands on. So, the tribes themselves lie and say that I am a wicked leader who hides behind a good image but only wishes for bloodshed.” Cassius mischievously clasps his hands, “These tribes are protected for as long House Pyre stands.”
“Wow, that’s… admirable.” You say with awe, “I hope to do that with Zaun, someday.”
“Speaking of your war.” Cassius suddenly has a serious look on his face, “Did you think I would come here and not find out how far you’ve come with your training?” He grins manically.
“Awe, shit.” You groan, “When do you want to do it?”
“We’ll do it in a week.” Cassius waves you off, “I’m enjoying my free time.”
~
Vi stumbles when she gets back into her room. She just so happened to be in Zaun when the fight between Sevika and Renni’s gangs was called. Intrigued, Vi snuck her way down to the pits and took her spot in the nook she used to hide in. She wasn’t expecting much from the fight since it seemed to be sudden, but that was before she found out it was a Blood Feud. Vi nearly choked on her own spit at those words. A Blood Feud hasn’t been called since Vander became the leader of Zaun. So, Vi found herself watching the proceedings with an intense interest, but her eyes couldn’t help but find her ghost in the crowd. Y/n. How could she miss the shocking white hair? From the distance, she couldn’t see much, but she could see her sister’s hair too. That made the ache in her chest worse. They were so close… yet so far.
Her mind was spinning from what she had seen. Carnage. She watched as Renni’s henchmen got torn to pieces in a matter of minutes. Those weapons were familiar to her, but the way they took those people down seemed too easy….with her sister and Y/n’s brilliant minds, they could have created anything from them. And, that was another thing… how did they learn to fight like that? So fluidly, so… skillful? That’s not something you pick up from living in Zaun.
Vi lets out a groan and falls onto her bed. Her eyes sting, vision becoming blurry as she shakes her head to chase it away. This was regular for her by now. Sobbing her eyes out into her bed as she yearned for the chance to see them again. She hated this. All she wanted to do was hold them again. Her sister. Y/n. Ekko. It hurt so badly, but she needed to make sure that they were safe.
“Vi?” Caitlyn knocks on the door, “Are you ready for patrol?” Vi glares hatefully at the Enforcer uniform hanging from the hook in the wall. She wipes away her tears, internally groaning at the fact that her makeup is probably a mess.
“Vi, hold still!” Y/n laughs as Vi tries to dodge her hand.
“You’re going to stab me in the eye with that thing!” Vi snorts, “I can do it on my own.”
“No!” Y/n pouts, pushing her down onto the couch and sitting on her, “You promised that I could do it the first time. You don’t get to tell me otherwise.”
“Oooh! Are we doing Vi’s makeup?!” Powder squeals as she comes through the door, “I’ll go get the tweezers!”
“Wait, Po-!”
“-Shhh! You said we could do it, so your eyebrows are getting done, too. You’re hot, cherry top. But these eyebrows need some work.” Y/n grins, making her laugh.
“Cherry top? Oh, no, I’ve infected you!” Vi cracks up laughing.
“Vi?” Caitlyn’s knocking jolts her from the memory. The grin that was on her face disappeared as the sorrow floods back through her.
“Give me a few minutes!” Vi calls back, “I… slept in late.”
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cyanide-latte · 1 year
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Got to thinking again today about pirating media and how many people make it about a moral quandary and how we here on Tumblr tend to be very gung-ho about pirating and this time in particular it boiled down to what I think the root is of why I'm largely okay with it.*
(*please take note, this post is about pirating platform-exclusive movies and shows. I do not support or condone piracy of books, comics/graphic novels or manga unless literally no other option is available to you. I've been a teen who had no choice but to read awful scanlations for manga growing up because I wasn't able to or allowed to purchase physical copies or even borrow them from the library. So I know that struggle, and I'm sympathetic to a degree. But please support your libraries, ask the librarians to teach you how to use the system, and use it to help support authors and artists before it is a legal and free way that actually helps. If you are in a situation where you have literally no choice for now, I recommend being responsible and trying to either buy the physical books when you can to help make things up or use a library when you are finally able to and borrow the materials, in order to still show support.)
This is probably my age showing but when I was a kid, we recorded shit on the VCR all the time. Buying actual movies was still something we did when we could, but in the 90s, stuff on VHS could get as high as $40 [USD] sometimes. Not all of them were, but the prices tended to be high enough we couldn't really afford to buy them ourselves; those had to be asked for as Christmas or birthday gifts, and even that wasn't a guarantee we'd open a rectangular gift to find a brand-new clamshell of the newest Disney movie.
But you know what we could afford to get? Blank video tapes. Depending on the brand and the length of the tape strip, they could cost as little as $3.99, and you could often get multiple blank tapes for a decent price. (I vaguely recall a half-dozen pack of tapes for maybe $25? We got a few of those when I was around 7 or 8 y.o.) And we would use that "Record" function on the VCR. We caught movies on the TV way less often than we would have liked because without a TVGuide or knowing someone who kept up with movie showtimes on various channels, you were kind of at the mercy of fate and fortune. Plus, we rarely tried to record a TV run of a movie if it was one we knew we REALLY wanted to buy on VHS.
Ah but shows! Shows we could generally depend on. You learned what channel(s) it played on and when, and you'd time it so you could record your episode(s), commercials included, and stop recording at the end of it. Presto! I could watch my episodes of Batman the Animated Series or Wishbone whenever I wanted. I'd have it forever (well, for as long as the tape can last anyway) even if the show went off the air and it didn't get any real VHS release. Lots of shows did get VHS releases, but they were limited to maybe three random episodes per tape, and were not usually for regular sale at most retailers; they were on the shelves of rental video stores and we couldn't keep them.
Until we got a special VCR that allowed us to record a copy of a tape onto one of our blanks. Again, not an endeavor we really did with movies, but when the family decided we were going to move in the future and wouldn't be sure we'd have a Blockbuster or Hollywood Video or Family Video wherever we were moving to, there'd be a burst of going to the nearest rental chain and carefully picking the tapes we knew we loved and wanted to be able to watch again, renting them for a couple of days, and putting that copy/record VCR to work before returning the proper copy back to the video store. Or if some friends had a movie and we wouldn't see them again, there was often an offer to record copies of their tapes. Didn't happen often but it was a handy solution to the desire to have access to the media in the long-term, and it wasn't looked down on as far as I can ever remember, because everyone recorded stuff on blank tapes and none of those people had no major moral crises about making copies in order to have the movies/shows they loved.
Now, when DVDs came out, things got a little bit different. DVD players and DVDs were expensive at the start, so the cost of all VHS tapes gradually started dropping. As with pretty much anything, pirating DVDs took off before long and soon just about every DVD had that in-your-face message about piracy, reminding you that copying and selling bootleg DVDs was illegal and "piracy isn't a victimless crime". I only vaguely recall being annoyed with DVD piracy, because what bootlegs I tended to see were extremely bad quality, and it was more annoyance at the idea that you could be swindled out of your money for something of barely-watchable quality. (I was 10 at the time and had not ever yet had to face the idea I could one day fall victim to being swindled myself, cut me just a little bit of slack there.) But to me it didn't really seem any different than what everyone I knew or ever interacted with did with VHS tapes. Selling the bootlegs to make your own profit, that I did eventually get; a chunk of a movie or show's success soon came to depend on DVD sales, and for a while I was very anti-piracy in that regard. But I never saw an issue with like, making DVD copies to trade with friends if we were able to do that.
Now it's 2022 and we are so inundated with streaming platforms left-right-and-center, I don't have regular TV channels or cable or satellite. I use a streaming platform to find what I want to watch, or a pirating site if what I want to watch isn't available otherwise. I also have a very large DVD and Blu-ray collection, and I use them regularly. And, the more and more so many streaming platforms release "exclusive" movies or shows that you won't be able to watch anywhere else and that they have no intent of making physical releases of? The more and more I find myself reverting to the mindset I had as a kid, wanting to make a copy of that Swan Princess tape we could only find at Blockbuster but couldn't afford to constantly rent. It isn't that I don't want to support the movies or shows themselves, or the people who pour themselves into making something I love. I want to support them in any way I can, including watching it on the platform if I have access to said platform.
But sometimes those platforms just...quietly remove the titles they've carried. Sometimes they jack their prices too high and I can't afford to keep paying that fee month after month because it stacks over time. Most often, I want to collect the media physically so I have the opportunity to revisit it in the future whenever I want, especially if I have a friend who has never seen it or even had access to it before. Physical media is wonderful, and there's something special about owning it. It's the same kind of special magic that it's always been about when I was 10 and could hold a freshly recorded VHS tape with episodes of Xena: Warrior Princess on it and know it was mine now for keeps.
This has already been quite a lengthy ramble and it's very colored by a sense of nostalgia, but for once I think that nostalgia really has come in handy for explaining why my outlook on something like pirating shows and movies is the way it is. I don't like this platform-exclusive direction; it's more or less just another paywall that can prevent entire swathes of potential audiences from connecting with movies and shows, and at this point, it's becoming almost too much for me to keep up with. So no, I have no moral quandary about cancelling subscriptions at some point and pirating episodes and movies and burning them onto a physical copy for keeps, and any reservations I used to have about buying bootlegs? Gone. I've seen blu-ray bootleg releases of platform-exclusive media that are much higher and more accessible quality than some official stuff, especially the made-on-demand stuff. At this point, I gotta respect the hustle and I can't complain about someone who burns a DVD better than I could.
Yo ho ho, y'all.
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guozhir · 7 days
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Chapter 1: On the Bridge (1)
Title: [Unlimited] What is it like being a ghost in a horror story?
Author: Guess who I am
Genre: Spin off - Romance - TV - Modern setting
Tags (up to four): TV fanfic, supernatural, rebirth, unlimited flow
Serialization date: 20Y3/3/17
Licensing information: Not licensed
Status: Serializing
Award: Groundbreaking (Rising Star Ranking)
Synopsis:
In the eighteenth year after my death, I got caught up in a scheme.
PS: Midnight Feast had its grand finale last week, did you guys catch it, my dears? Anyway, this distinguished VIP is ready for the second viewing! Xiaoyu-meimei's acting as Tangtang was so cute, she definitely has a bright future! A work from a small fan, centered around the heroine, supernatural paro, my dears, please support me and express your thoughts~
PPS: The content has little to do with the original plot, so those who have never watched the TV series can read it without worry.
Main character: Tang Guo, water ghost
Chap1 Prologue
Update time: 20Y3-3-17 12:00:00
Summary: Eighteen years after my death, am I...... breathing?
Text:
After drowning, I became a water ghost.
They say, only those who are obsessed with it will not reincarnate after death. They also say, leave when you're supposed to leave. Persistently entangled in the mortal realm for three lifetimes, is it not just wronging others and yourself? I feel that what they say is right. Sometimes I also preach to the other ghosts like this, but everyone knows the logical truth. When I think about myself, I still feel unwilling for no reason.
For what reason am I alone so miserable? What have I done that is so against heaven and reason, that I did not have a good life, nor a good death in the end?
But the Netherworld is more unreasonable than the mortal realm. I can't even think about it. Thinking just brings distracting thoughts. Either way, if my beliefs are not aligned, I cannot reincarnate. I would have to stay in the water, capturing a living person to be my "scapegoat" to escape.
Don't ask why, how should I know? Anyways, only we drowned people have this task, other ghosts don't have to do it. There is a hierarchy of distain for shitting and farting when we are alive. But there are still a variety of ways to die, how unlucky!
However, my conscience is still intact and I'm still rational. I really don't want to do those immoral things, so I chose to become a "vegetarian ghost."
This means, I only drag those who want to die, and are about to die, into the water, helping them and helping me, a win-win situation.
Unfortunately, ideals must be broken.
Every time I see those so-called "in complete despair" people, I wait beside them longingly. But as soon as I pull their feet a little, they start to kick their feet hastily, and some even scream for help. In the end, not only do I fail my task, but I also have to help rescue them. I can't tell whether I'm a ghost or a dolphin, which is outrageous.
But flowers have their blooming season, foods have a shelf life, and the water ghost mission also has a time limit. Legend has it that we have an eighteen-year death limit. If I can't catch a scapegoat within eighteen years, I will turn into foam like the Little Mermaid and submerge in the stinky sewer, unable to be reincarnated.
I didn't take it seriously before. After all, eighteen years is a long time and I've never heard of a loser who couldn't catch a scapegoat in eighteen years. Yet starting from the end of last year, I, who has no nose, suddenly felt like I was slowly rotting and turning smelly. I then realized I was the loser from the legend.
Time was running out, and I later realized that I was getting angry because of my anxiety. But I'm a northern ghost. The water here freezes over in the winter, even the shore is cold. Dogs don't come to pee by the shore, much less people.
The twelfth lunar month, I struggled for a long time, and decided to give up my vegetarian diet. Regardless of whether the other person is alive or dead, I would pull them down as long as they jumped in the water, regardless of whether they regret it or not. After finally making up my mind, no one committed suicide in the twelfth lunar month.
The first lunar month, I got anxious. Using any means necessary, I carved a hole under the ice, preparing to catch anyone skating on outdoors ice. I was done with it, not caring for whether people died or lived.
Yet it turns out no one went ice skating!
After the Lantern Festival, I had no choice but to become a complete freak. I couldn't care less about propriety, justice, and integrity. I wanted a scapegoat!
I was prepared to use the seaweed to drag a living person from the shore as soon as the ice melted. Who knew that when spring had just begun, the damn municipal government would install iron fences by the water again!
Gosh!
Is this my retribution for being a good ghost for eighteen years?
It was getting warmer day by day, and I got more anxious day by day. Entering March, I was nearly in despair because the date of my death was March 17th eighteen years ago. Who knew it would be my death day again eighteen years later!
I got less and less clear-headed; day by day, I felt like I was gradually melting into this pool of stagnant water, and the seaweed no longer obeyed my orders.
Just like eighteen years ago, I drowned again, only this time it was longer and more torturous.
Right when I was at the end of my rope, half dead, I heard a familiar "crash" sound, and the waves brought the smell of life!
I revived like dying embers, almost crying with joy. Someone climbed over the railing and fell into the water!
Soon enough, I rushed over without hesitation, like a starving person who saw a large cake. I didn't even see clearly what person looked like. I impatiently weaved the seaweed around the person's feet, pulling the person down greedily and desperately.
Die, I'm begging you! Just die, I can only live if you die!
However, very quickly, I felt that something was not right. This person didn't resist at all. When I pulled them, they fell straight into the water, sinking like a rock.
Fuck, I thought to myself, they couldn't have already died right?
Then god really is messing with me!
I quickly went closer, only then seeing that the person who had been dragged down by the seaweed was a woman. She had very long hair, was of average height, very thin, almost as if she were paper. When soaked in water, she looked more like a ghost than me.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes, staring straight at me.
That's okay, she was still alive, but before I could relax, I was overwhelmed with horror.
In those pupils...... in those pupils was actually my reflection!
I haven't looked in a mirror since I died, and I came face to face with my own "exceptionally beautiful" face without warning. I was almost scared out of my mind, freezing for a moment. But at that moment, I felt those eyes getting bigger and bigger, getting closer and closer to me......
Then my vision went dark, a long-lost weight pressing down on my head, and cold smelly water rushed into my nose and mouth.
I'm a ghost, what nose and mouth?
But drowning was too painful, and I had no room to think about it at all. I instinctively kicked my legs, kicking away the seaweeds that were tangled all over my body. I struggled towards the shore, climbing up with all my strength, then sneezed loudly.
Wait a minute, I...... sneezed?
Eighteen years after my death, am I...... breathing?
I lowered my head blankly, looking at my dirty hands, dumbfounded.
I seem to have taken over her body.
Us water ghosts...... have this ability?
This woman hadn't eaten in an unknown amount of time; her stomach was pressed against her chest. When the cold wind by the water blew, I felt the long-forgotten hunger and cold.
I was confused at the time: Was she dead or alive? Am I dead or alive?
What exactly was going on with us?
Before I could figure it out, a flashlight swept over me. Someone had spotted me...... her...... ah, ah someone, someone, it's too weird.
The person who discovered me was a security guard who was patrolling at night. He had a very loud voice, being able to be heard from two zhang. People who were walking their dogs, night joggers, people practicing square dancing...... all appeared out of nowhere. He had attracted all of them. A lot of people surrounded me and asked questions.
I haven't spoken to anyone in eighteen years, and I was still struggling to find my voice. But at this moment, my tongue moved on its own.
It was like a squirming worm. I felt sick, subconsciously opening my mouth, and heard myself making a sound.
"I drank too much, and accidentally fell down......"
"I'm okay, thank you, I'm sober now...... I'm clear-headed."
"No need...... no need to call the police...... I live nearby...... the community right there."
I got goosebumps all over my body, shutting my mouth from shock, and the thin and trembling words came to an abrupt stop.
Being struck by five thunders could not even describe the panic I felt at the moment, but the heart in this body's chest was beating calmly, completely out of sync with my mind.
The original owner of this body wasn't dead; she was still here, just stuck with me!
Two souls controlling one body at the same time was a lot worse than a "three legged race" where two people share a leg. If two people stumble around each other in a three legged race, what about our current situation?
The strange thing was, I can control this body rather smoothly. I can speak when I want to speak, and shut up when I want to. I can't feel her panic at all, but if I stop paying attention and loosen my jaw, she will automatically reply to the people around her, and even stand up on her own.
I bit her tongue harshly, tears welling up in my eyes, but she didn't resist at all!
I felt as if I was driving a car on a steep slope; it stops when I step on the breaks, and it drives automatically when I take my foot off!
She wasn't panicked, wasn't afraid of me, didn't reject me, didn't stop me, only holding those unknown motives staring at me...... quietly in the dark.
I should have jumped into the water and downed her immediately, but there were too many spectators, and there were even a few meddling old men and women who said they wanted to call the police, making me break into cold sweat from fear. I'm a pussy 1! I'm scared of light, fire, and Yang energy. There are so many warm living people surrounding me, and I'm already suffocating. I'm afraid that if a few more citizens were call over, would I not just die on the spot?
I was also panicking at the time, only knowing how to repeatedly incoherently say to not call the police, I can just go home.
A passerby couple recognized the original owner of the body, saying that "I" was a resident in their building, and they wanted to give me a ride home.
What skills we water ghosts have can only be used in the water where we drowned, unable to be transferred to other bodies of water. This broken body was both thin and weak; I became panicked and short of breath when I walked to fast, completely unable to get away from these two living people. I had no choice but to be "escorted" by them into a building.
Fortunately, the original owner's body automatically pressed the elevator floor. It wasn't until I got off the elevator that I got rid of the two nosy people, ready to sneak downstairs and return to my territory as soon as they left. Who knew that the second the elevator doors closed, and before I even had the chance to press the button again, a door would suddenly open behind me.
My...... no, the heart in this body of mine thumped, a chill running down my spine.
A head popped out of the open door, a woman, appearing to be twenty-four or five? Or twenty-eight/nine?
I couldn't tell. Her makeup was half done, her face as pale as a freshly painted wall. She had long curly hair, which was dyed reddish brown, and braided into two fluffy braids. Her facial features were memorable, and her figure was also rather nice. I couldn't find fault with her, but she wasn't good-looking at all, because her eyes were sharp and cold, like a snake. As soon as I saw her, I felt the original owner's body tense up, trembling, and what little energy she had almost disappeared.
The woman frowned, dragging me into the apartment: "What madness did you get into, looking like this?"
Her nails were harder and sharper than her head. I could clearly see that those wasn't a hand at all, but a claw covered in human skin.
The claws were arid, cold, and powerful. The strong scent of rose water hit me, hiding the fishy and putrid smell.
Just what monster was this?!
This weird girl could see water ghosts in the water, and there was a yaoguai by her that was not easy to deal with. What on earth have I provoked?!
Also...... we water ghosts typically cannot possess living people. So in this current situation, is it me who has possessed her or...... or has she captured me?!
She did it on purpose, no wonder why she wasn't worried about being possessed by a ghost at all!
"I told you to make a phone call, did you make it yet?" The female monster pulled me into the apartment, leaving me by the door of the bathroom. Then she turned around, continuing to put makeup on while facing the mirror, as if she didn't notice my presence.
I knew that I would never be able to beat her in a fight. Out of fear of being exposed, I didn't dare to speak, hoping the original owner would speak, but the original owner also refused to make a peep.
"Can you do anything?" The female monster seemed used to the original owner's silence, and didn't mind. After putting on lipstick, her gaze drifted from the mirror, and landed on me. She glanced at me, then said with disgust, "why do you get uglier the older you get?"
The original owner and I, one ghost, one human, continued to not speak.
"Get yourself cleaned up." The female monster with boundless power gave cold orders, "Wash up and put on a facial mask. I'm taking you to dinner with people tomorrow. If you keep acting like that, you better watch out."
I saw faint traces of blood on her teeth and shivered. Before I could think more about it, my legs dragged me to the bedroom towards the south like a ghost, and closed the door.
Temporarily out of sight of the female monster, I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the door, vaguely feeling as if I had forgotten something.
There were no lights on in the dark room. At present, I was attracted to the only source of light. There was a digital alarm clock on the bedside table. It was ticking, displaying that the current time was Mark 16, 20:08.
My mind buzzed, and I recalled: the 17th was less than four hours away!
There are less than four hours left. If I cannot escape, I will fall into despair!
Comments on this chapter (by reply time):
[Little Miss Dragon] 0 min just now Newcomer topping the list, preserving courtesy. I haven't seen a supernatural work on the list for a long time, good luck big shot!
[Caterpillar No 3] 0 min just now It's a bit scary, not my type of story, sorry.
[Don't be afraid, Tangtang] 0 min 1 day ago A gourmet chef who accidentally opened this calmly clicking x. [My Husband is 2D] replied: Not by accident, you were tricked into it right? The blurb clearly says Midnight Feast fanfic, but the text is of lower quality.
[My Husband is 2D]-2 min just now Writing horror stories under the modern sweet romance genre, shamelessly riding on the popular tag Writing horror stories under the modern sweet romance genre, shamelessly riding on the popular show tag Writing horror stories under the modern sweet romance genre, shamelessly riding on the popular show tag Writing horror stories under the modern sweet romance genre, shamelessly riding on the popular show tag Trash, if you have the ability, then remove my comment again
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[Snow Skin Rice Cake] 5h 2 min ago Sending 3 [roses] to the author
[Gourmet food never surrenders] 5h 0 min ago ??? can the gourmet chefs who were lied to by the tag gather here, what does this work have to do with our sweet drama? [Sugar sugar sugar sugar] replied: Arriving +1 [kkrtt] replied: +2 [Little Miss Dragon] replied: +3 [Don't be afraid, Tangtang] replied: +10086
[Crayon] 1 day 0 min ago A supernatural suspense novel? [Tang Guo waifu wait for me] replied to [Crayon]: It's a Midnight Feast fanfic, I don't know what paro it is, respected author write more ah [Sugar sugar sugar sugar] replied to [Tang Guo waifu wait for me]: Nope, the gourmet kitchen is withdrawing, sister read the text, it has nothing to do with Midnight Feast, this is purely for traffic.
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[kkrtt]: 1 day 0 min ago This is a fan? How weird.
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Footnotes
1 priest uses the term 陰物 which refers to female genitalia
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wtfcraigslistnyc · 7 months
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RAID AREA 51 AS RECOUNTED BY “VINNY”
📛PLEASE NOTE THAT THE AUTHOR IS WRITING IN THE COMMON VERNACULAR AND HAS PRESENTED THIS WORK WRITTEN AS SPOKEN AS SUCH📛
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In september of 2019 i impulsively went to the storm area 51 event out in nevada, i start driving, i fall asleep behind the wheel, & crash my car in new york, i took a greyhound to new york city, took the subway to jfk airport, bought a plane ticket to las vegas, kill some time in vegas because i am now ahead of schedule, ask my friends how do i could carpool to area 51, they tell me to check the facebook event page, i do, i carpool with a butter company rep, dude sells butter to big stores & such, at area 51 i paint a sign that said "free hugs" (i used an empty pizza box i picked up at a pizzaria in vegas, & a bottle of black paint i stole from walmart) i still have that sign to this day, i got completely swarmed by a few group hugs, & in general was just giving out plenty of hugs, the butter salesman asked me to help him put on green body paint so he could feel like an alien, visited the gate, had a good time, butter salesman dude drops me off at the jerky shop on the main road there, & i make another sign, this one says "i don't bite" because i have read two wikihow guides & that's what they said to do so i start hitch hiking, dude pulls over & when i get in the car the very first thing he says to me is "don't worry, i don't bite either" dude was awesome, his name is rich, we spend some time swapping stories & such and after a half hour, hour or so, he starts his home comedian routine, he pulls a pointer finger wand out of his glove box & starts poking me while saying "things are getting out of hand" he tosses a controler shaped figit toy into my lap & says "we are loosing control" this bit goes on for a solid fifteen or so minutes & the finally is him taking a confetti gun & saying "i know you need a ride home so we're gonna hijack the car infront of us" proceeding to fire the confetti gun at the windshield a few times, eventually the conversation rolls around to "how do you know i'm not a cerial killer" & his response is to lift up his shirt showing me his .44 magnum, we get to his place, i take a shower, we drink a few beers, order a pizza, & watch a few episodes of drunk history & a few episodes of the vampire series "what we do in the shadows" ever since we called often & always planned on visiting each other, it still hasn't happened, but i ordered a ton of custom matchbooks with a quote from his (& my) favorite movie, 2011 animated western starting johnny depp, rango, rich really related to the main protagonist because he struggled with a similar conflict of finding purpose, anyways, i got out of rehab sometime in may of 2022, & when i got home i received a call from rich's wife telling me that he had committed suicide infront of her & at the time their 11 month old daughter, i received those custom matchbooks a few months later, anyways i tell this story because he was an awesome person & the fact that he is no longer with us is a constant reminder that even though he is no longer with us, the memory of him never did, it reminds me that if i did what he did i'm going to be talked about forever in a context similar to this, & that isn't something i never want to do to my friends
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mt-musings · 1 year
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Bluebell
Chapter 43
After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Spencer Reid x OC
Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, more tags to be added
Series Masterlist
Read on AO3
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43. Butterfly
Dr. Garvey met Cassandra and Spencer outside the auditorium. Spencer was beaming, a garment bag thrown over his arm. He’d dressed smartly in a suit and polished shoes, hair carefully styled back. He’d expected Cassandra to be in the same black dress-tights-and-oversized sweater she wore to anything that required her to dress up. Instead she wore a modest, wine colored chiffon dress and tights, even trading her usual combat boots for a pair of black kitten heels. It took him a moment to place why the outfit struck him as odd before he realized it was the first time he’d seen her in something that fit her narrow frame, that wasn’t six times too large and drowning her. Perhaps that was why it seemed so much more revealing than usual, even though she was still covered from the base of her throat to her toes, her sleeves buttoned tight round her wrists.
She gave him a tight smile, arms wrapped around herself. 
“Why do you look so nervous? You’ve already done the hard part,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile.
“That’s what I keep telling her,” Spencer said. She shook her head.
“It’ll be fine, I just want to get it over with.”
“Cass—“ 
“I’m okay Spence. I’m just going to get dressed, okay?” She said quickly, taking the garment bag from him and slipping inside the building without further preamble. Spencer watched her go, worry clear on his brow. 
“She’s having a rough morning,” he said finally when she was out of sight. “She won’t admit it.”
“Sometimes it’s hardest to celebrate when we’re missing people we want to share our joys with,” he said, unsure of whether he knew of Cassandra’s parents’ deaths. Spencer gave him an odd look that made him think he did. 
She reappeared in a few minutes, freshly clad in her doctoral regalia. Spencer whistled at her and she wrinkled her nose at him.
“I thought Edinburgh’s was dumb, but the hat pushes this one over the edge.”
“You look adorable,” Spencer reassured her. She turned to Dr. Garvey, nose still wrinkled in displeasure. He laughed.
“The hat doesn’t look good on anyone,” he said, earning a smile smile. 
It wasn’t long after that that they’d had to usher Spencer to his seat so that they both could line up for the opening procession. 
“Everything is going to be fine,” he said, keeping his voice low. She gave him a smile—it was small, but genuine. 
“I know it’s stupid. I just hate these sorts of things.”
“Here,” Dr. Garvey said, fishing the box out of his pocket and handing it to her. “For good luck.”
Cassie stared at him, confused for a moment before opening the little box. It held a simple filigree butterfly on a gold chain. It had been harder than he’d thought to track it down. 
“Butterflies were my daughter’s favorite. She always said they were lucky because they got to remake themselves, to stare at the sky as caterpillars and craft themselves wings so they could properly enjoy it. Just—don’t forget about the sky, alright?”
He watched as she just stared at it for a long moment, frozen, long enough to worry that he’d overstepped with the gift. He only felt worse when she looked up, tears streaking down her face. 
“Oh no, Cassandra, I’m so sorry—“
“No, no! It’s the nicest gift anyone’s ever given me. It’s just—it’s just when I was little I had a foster mom tell me that butterflies were a sign from passed loved ones, that they were checking in. And I know it’s not really true, but—but I was really missing my parents and wishing they could be here. And I know I’m so lucky, because I have you and Spencer supporting me today, and that’s more than I’ve ever had at one of these things, but I’m still—I was still sad, because they aren’t here, when I should have been happy for the people that are. But, um—thank you.”
Dr. Garvey pulled her into a hug, trying to subtly brush away the tears welling in his own eyes as he did so. 
“Thank you for not giving up on me. Even when I was difficult and wouldn’t listen and—“
“Giving up on you was never even a thought, Cassandra. I’m so proud of you, I can’t wait to see what you do next.”
He gave her a big squeeze before stepping back to brush away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs. She smiled at him, the expression still tinged with grief, though it hasn’t as heavy as it had hung before. 
“Oh dear, your mascara’s all smudged,” he said, digging into his pocket for his handkerchief. He wiped away the streaks of makeup, something he hadn’t done in decades. Cassandra was still looking at the necklace, brows furrowed. 
“It’s the same butterfly on the end of your watch chain.”
He nodded. “It’s the same one I gave Hanna, when she graduated high school. I’ve always kept it with me, since she passed. To remind me how very precious our time is with people. It’s a wonderful gift, time. It doesn’t feel that way, especially when you’re the one left with in, but it is.”
She surprised him by giving him a hug of her own accord, even if it was only for a brief moment. He smiled at her, taking a steadying breath before he took the box and pulled out the necklace, carefully clasping it around her neck before dropping the box back in his pocket. 
The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, the pair of them walking to the center of the auditorium stage for the hooding portion, the part he knew she was dreading most, because it forced her into the spotlight. She froze when she hit center stage, not because her anxiety, but because of the music that suddenly started blasting over the near-silent auditorium. She burst out laughing as she searched through the lights to find Ayesh with his familiar boombox raised over his head, the rest of her cohort at the Smithsonian hooting and hollering, even though they’d been told to hold their applause until the end. Spencer stood in their midst, any sense of decorum lost as he leapt onto his seat as he cheered.
“Isn’t that the CSI theme song?” She asked, covering her face in her hands as she shook with laughter. The irony of the song choice wasn’t lost on him, though he pretended not to realize why The Who’s Who Are You? would be particularly funny to her.
“I believe it is,” he replied mildly, though he didn’t bother to hide the amusement in his voice as he slipped the hood over her neck, making sure the colors were properly turned out in the back. 
“The Dean’s gonna kill him,” she said through giggles. He was pretty sure she was right—after all, he still hadn’t forgiven Ayesh for hacking into the university announcement system to play Huey Lewis’s Back in Time every hour, on the hour for the first week and a half of class. Nor when the realized he’d programed it to change to playing The Time Warp when they started messing around with the code.
To his surprise she grinned at him before pointing to Ayesh in the crowd and whipping out a few dance movies as she made her way off stage that would have made Christopher Walken proud. She was still giggling to herself as she waited for him to catch up before re-finding their seats. 
“You know, I didn’t even think they would come,” she said quietly as the ceremony resumed in solemn near-silence, glancing over her shoulder towards where Spencer and her friends sat.
“You did forget to give them invitations,” he said pointedly, not mentioning that he’d taken it upon himself to pass them out on her behalf. Not that he’d needed to—they’d all already been discussing which bars should be included in the post-graduation pub crawl after the ceremony. 
It had been enough to make him fear for their livers, but he hadn’t said anything. 
The rest of the ceremony flew by without any additional musical stylings curtesy of the Smithsonian’s now most-senior anthropology intern. Spencer was the first one to push through the crowd to congratulate her and he chuckled as she leapt into his arms to kiss him, prompting Ayesh to loudly ask whether there was still time to change her doctorate to ‘sucking face’ and Cassandra to flip him off. 
He’d been surprised by the second group of people that met them on the auditorium steps, people he’d never met, but could guess from their bearing and their ranging expressions of surprise and giddy amusement at the display that they were Cassandra and Spencer’s colleagues at the FBI, and that they hadn’t been aware of the pair’s relationship. They both flushed scarlet as they were met by good-natured ribbing, ribbing made worse by Ayesh, Owen, and Georgie dog-piling on the pair. 
Spencer did his best to introduce everyone while clearly trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks while Cassie’s boss, whom he learned the team called Hotch, introduced her to his wife and son, whom she was immediately enamored with. He hung back a little from the group as the auditorium emptied out, content to simply watch her laugh and joke with her friends and co workers, to make faces at the little boy in his mother’s arms to make him giggle. It was enough just to see her happy and nearly relaxed for what might have been the first time since he’d known her. He had half a mind to slip away while they were all catching up, to leave them to their night of revery, but Cassandra turned, glancing around for him and pulled him into the group. She smiled at him, linking her arm around his before going back to her play-argument with Owen about minocycline staining in cranial bones, while Spencer seemed to be in the midst of fending off their friend Penelope who was half-furious at him for not telling her the pair were dating. 
It was an odd mix of people, for sure. Eggheads and FBI agents didn’t usually run in the same circles. But they’d all turned out to support Cassandra, something that he could tell both surprised and warmed her heart. 
And that was a good enough endorsement of their character for him. 
---
The man remained seated not far from the group, close enough that he could still get the gist of what was being said. He was tall enough that the narrow auditorium seating was uncomfortable, his sandy hair more grey than blonde now that he was approaching his fifties. He wore it neat, now, still overlong but no longer bedraggled and it suited the sharp planes of his face. He’d dressed up for the occasion, in a freshly-ironed plaid button down and khakis, his navy Harrington jacket freshly-laundered. 
After all, it wasn’t every day that his niece received a PhD.
He’d yet to have missed a graduation—there was a thrill to it, being so close and yet lost in the crowd. A thrill to the fact that she didn’t know, even as paranoid as she’d grown, that she’d never once guessed. It felt like as much a celebration of his work as hers—after all, he doubted she’d have ended up in the FBI, ended up with all those degrees and fancy theories if it hadn’t been for him. Rasmus had allowed her to be an indolent child, squandering her natural talents on plunking around on the piano. She’d had none of the discipline of her mother, none of the drive towards greatness—he remembered watching his sister come home from lessons, remembered how she’d thrust her toes in the snow banks upon arriving home, leaving pink streaks from her bleeding toes, only to return to the studio before first light, to practice before her lessons began. 
He watched her smile with her little friends, watched her loop her arm around her boyfriend—the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, who’s achievements had been documented across a plethora of newspapers and websites. Honestly, he’d been a little too easy to research, to track down, hardly any fun at all—not like his Bluebell. Not clever and crafty and sometimes downright diabolical in her schemes to go unnoticed, to remain untraceable, but for her work.
He still hadn’t been able to track down her newest apartment. 
He watched her laugh at something one of the Smithsonians said, really laugh, and felt a twinge of something else. She looked like Liliya when she smiled, looked so like her it hurt. He raised his camera and snapped a picture, wondering if it would properly capture the way her eyes softened, the winkling of her nose. 
He didn’t have many pictures of Bluebell really smiling. He didn’t have any before she’d begun to hang around with the good Dr. Reid. 
The game would be so much sweeter now that she had things to lose. 
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unicornofgt · 2 years
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ok now that i’ve got it on the brain, i want to talk about disability in pjo and specifically how calling percy jackson dumb or treating him as such is not only a mischaracterization, but ableism. as a quick note, i’m keeping this to just percy to avoid having this already long post be even longer, but there are other disabled characters in pjo worthy of discussion. i bring up percy specifically because he is mostly the character i have seen people treat as dumb.
percy is a dyslexic teen with ADHD who comes from a low-income family, raised by a single mother, and deals with an abusive step-father. i cannot stress enough how much of his character is shaped by that experience, but as hard as it is to single out any one part, i am going to focus on his ADHD and dyslexia. this kid has nightmares of being forced to take tests in a straightjacket as teachers ask him if he’s stupid and withhold him from recess with his peers. he is constantly labelled as “troubled” and blamed for things he didn’t do or aren’t his fault. he is told, over and over again, that he is “not normal” (othering him). he bounces between schools. he struggles to make friends. he deals with bullying. he has difficulty studying and reading, even when invested. teachers struggle to connect with him and tend to just give up on him. these are real disabled experiences, and rick does a good job at presenting them. sometimes, it feels like everything is a struggle. you are living inside a system that not only is restricting, but actively works against and punishes you.
in contrast, CHB is a great example of how when environments meet the needs of disabled people, it hugely changes how disabled we are in that environment. demigod brains are hard-wired for ancient greek, not english, and they’re born impulsive, with high energy levels that help them survive battle—but aren’t very good for a classroom setting. but by having them read books in greek, regularly do lots of training/physical activities, and have genuine opportunities to express themselves…they function pretty damn well. percy discovers that while he struggles academically, he is brilliant in combat and capable of saving the world numerous times—he is a hero. it is here, in camp half-blood, that percy finds a place he belongs, that shows him his worth—finally, somewhere is built to not only include him, but to nurture and genuinely prepare him for the world outside its boarders. however, i think people forget that just because percy functions in the world of CHB and the gods, that does not mean he doesn’t face ableism in the mortal world—and that there is an entire group of people who see ourselves reflected in his character.
i could talk for hours about how percy’s humor revolves around coping with his environment and actually displays a very low self esteem after being looked down upon his entire life. this kid doesn’t even have to say anything and he screams ‘i had a neurodivergent childhood.’ but about five years ago, when i was more regularly tuned into the fandom, every time i saw someone call percy jackson dumb or an idiot, even jokingly, i raised an eyebrow, and now that the series is getting fresh coverage from disney+, i have wanted to make this post. so much of this kid’s life and personality comes from being treated like he’s dumb or incapable, so it’s troubling to watch part of the fanbase reflect the harmful parts of this character’s upbringing. i truly hope it does not become common again. it’s also one thing coming from a neurodivergent/disabled person with similar experiences (and even then i personally find it a little uncomfortable), it’s another to be said by a neurotypical/able bodied person.
percy jackson’s experiences make for very important representation, and for people to characterize him as just a goofy, unintelligent guy is not only an insult to his character as a kid who is intelligent, but previously lacked the environment to show it, but also ableist. so in the dawn of the new tv series era, i ask that we cut that shit out. rick riordan did not create rep for neurodivergent and disabled kids for them to be called stupid by the fanbase. even jokingly.
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sluttywonwoo · 3 years
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pretend || j.ww x reader
Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense
Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)
Word Count: 1.8k
a/n:  originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )
Masterlist
The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.
“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.
He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”
You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu. 
“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”
“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.
“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.
You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”
“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera. 
“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips. 
“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap. 
“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”
“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.
“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”
She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”
She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.
“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.
“A little,” you admitted. “You?”
“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”
You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”
From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead. 
“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”
“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”
“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”
“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”
“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.
You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random. 
“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”
“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat. 
“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”
“Aw, thank you, y/n.”
“You’re welcome.”
“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”
You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”
“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor. 
You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.
“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.
“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”
“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”
“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”
“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion. 
“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked. 
“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”
Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his. 
You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”
“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily. 
“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”
“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”
You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”
Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself. 
“Anyway, moving on.”
You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud. 
“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”
You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”
“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”
“Mingyu!” 
“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”
You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”
“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”
“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler. 
“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”
“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”
Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him. 
You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset. 
His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him. 
“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you. 
You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts. 
“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up. 
“I’m not bored.”
“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”
“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”
“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”
Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”
“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”
Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence. 
“I know that.”
“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued. 
“I know,” he repeated.
“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”
“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.
You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?” 
“Y/n,”
“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.
“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”
You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard. 
You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there. 
Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to. 
Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”
You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”
lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!
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