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moonstruckme · 8 months

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can i request some poly!marauders where reader tells them they love them for the first time… but like sooo passionate and sappy, maybe some tears of relief.. ugh i love your writing sm 😭😭

Of course you can sweetheart, sorry it took me a bit to get to it!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Lately it’s like you can hardly stop yourself. You’ll get off the phone with James, or Remus will let you run your fingers over his scars, or Sirius will braid your hair for you, and you’ll want to say Ugh, I love you.

In some ways, you feel a bit silly for agonizing over it. You know the boys have been saying it to each other for years, platonically before romantically, so sometimes it feels like you’re a bit behind the curve. Sirius flings it about like he has love in endless supply (and from what you can tell, he does). Evans, you know I love you, but that hat is a crime and You have a great personality, Prongs, but I love those big shoulders most of all and Is that drink for me, Marls? I knew I loved you for a reason. And it’s such a small thing, objectively, just three words in their natural order, but it also feels like sort of a big deal.

You do love them. So much it sometimes feels like your heart swells until it crowds out your lungs and steals your breath, but telling them is no simple matter. Do you tell them together? That feels like making a big deal out of things, like calling a family meeting or something. But if you tell them separately, you’d have to pick an order, and that could only go poorly, too. You don’t want it to be an announcement, though you don’t just want to blurt it out like it’s nothing, either. Maybe it is to some people, maybe even to them (although you don’t think so), but it’s not to you. You’ve never loved anyone like this before, let alone three people. The severity of it had hit you like a truck, all at once, vaulting you into love faster than you could catch your breath.

It's a new feeling to you, this romantic sort of love, but you have enough acumen to recognize magic when you feel it. No matter how much you hate being at the center of attention, you aren't going to trivialize that.

The confession tempts your tongue now, sitting on the bathroom counter with Sirius between your legs and James sitting on the floor beside him.

“I just think you would look cute with a couple little braids.” Sirius’ breath fans your face as he speaks, one hand on your cheek to keep you still as he does your eyeliner.

“I don’t want to look cute,” James argues. “And everyone else thinks my hair looks great as it is, thank you.”

“Cute isn’t the right word. Rakish. Kind of like a pirate.”

“You can’t change the terminology to fool me. I look rakish every day, don’t I Moony?”

“You do.” Remus comes to lean in the open doorway, pulling on his socks. “Though I do think a braid would be fun to try, sometime.”

Sirius takes only a moment to relish in this small triumph before he's frowning. “You are not wearing that to the party.”

Remus looks down at his faded green sweater. “It looks like I am. I don’t intend to shiver during the walk there.”

Sirius scoffs, and James, spotting a pot to stir, says, “I like you in that sweater, actually.”

Remus knows exactly what his boyfriend is doing, but he smirks anyway. “Thank you, Prongs. It’s like we’re his little projects, aren’t we? At least someone doesn’t want to change me.”

Everyone’s eyes find you, waiting to see what side you’ll pick. You burn under the spotlight. “I think you look great either way.” You shrug, but stop when Sirius hisses sharply, his grip tightening on your face.

Remus eyes you, something searching in his gaze that you don’t like. You can never hide a thought for long before he susses you out. But to your surprise, it’s Sirius who says, “You okay, sweet thing? You’re being even quieter than usual. You still want to go, yeah?”

“Yeah, I wanna go,” you say quickly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, finishing up with your eyeliner and stepping back to look at you. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You squirm, pinned like a butterfly beneath his gaze. “It’s nothing, it’s silly.”

A poor choice. Now you have everyone’s full attention.

“I’m sure it’s not silly.” James smiles at you encouragingly. “What is it?”

You start to pick at your nails, but Sirius' eyes narrow at them, and you stop. “I just…I’ve been thinking lately.”

A beat passes before Remus fills the silence. “That’s always a good thing,” he says slowly, amusedly. “C’mon, dove, out with it.”

This isn’t how you wanted this to go. You’re on the spot. It’s going to feel like a forced confession. They’re expecting something silly and light—I just don’t feel like my outfit is going to work for tonight—and you feel like you’re about to drop a bomb on them in comparison.

In the end, you give yourself away before you say the words. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and I just need you to know I mean it, but I don’t need it to be…reciprocated.”

Sirius cocks his head at you, and you decide to burst the bubble of tension before it can expand any further.

“Just, I love you.”

And maybe you wanted it to be like when Sirius says it, like he’s thrown confetti and everyone seems brighter and happier for it, but each word falls heavily from your lips, landing at the feet of your boyfriends for them to decide what to do with. Why did you add in a “just”? There’s nothing just about this. It’s a humiliating attempt at downplaying the phrase, and painfully ineffective too. You feel like you could light yourself on fire with the intensity of your embarrassment.

"Argh, sweetheart,” James says after an impossibly long beat, “I wanted to say it first.”

“No fucking way.” Sirius whirls on him. “You were gonna say it and you didn’t tell me? I was waiting for one of you to do it first.”

“Dove,” Remus says, relaxing against the doorframe, “I think we’ve all been feeling the same way for some time. Thank you for having the confidence to say it first.”

You beam so hard your cheeks start to hurt almost instantly. “Yeah?”

“Color me impressed,” Sirius says. “This whole time you've played coy, but you’ve got more balls than any of the rest of us, haven’t you?” He pauses. “Wait, are you crying?”

“Oh, um, I guess so,” you reply when you touch a fingertip to your lower lashes and it comes away wet. “I’m just relieved, I guess. I was pretty nervous.”

Sirius grabs some toilet paper, pressing a wad under each of your eyes. “Well shit, don’t fuck up your eyeliner, baby. It was never that dire, not like anyone wasn’t going to say it back.”

“Well, I wasn’t going in with any expectations,” you mumble, holding your makeshift tissues.

“Sweetheart,” James whines, his bottom lip beginning to tremble sympathetically. “How could you think we wouldn't? I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” you counter, laughing even as the paper under your eyes grows damp. “I’ve been wanting to say it forever. I feel so lucky to have you guys, you know?”

Remus crosses the room, forcing you to discard your toilet paper clumps as he takes your face in his hands, kissing your salty cheeks. “We’re lucky to have found you,” he says, and the words are even, sure. “I don’t say it often enough, but I love you all too. You’re everything to me.”

“Oh, fuck all of you,” Sirius says, blinking rapidly to save his own sparkly eyeliner. “Obviously you’re the best things that’ve ever happened to me. Pricks.”

Your laugh is wet, and you wonder if you’re peaking right now or if you’ll be this happy forever. With the three of them around you, you’re betting on the latter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Think you could fix my makeup before we go, Siri? Please?”

He huffs, but the kiss he presses to your lips is syrupy sweet. “We are going to be well past fashionably late.”

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scarletwinterxx · 6 months

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got me confused, got me satisfied - jaehyun imagine

hellooooo. currently on my jaehyun brain rot era😶😶‍🌫️ this is the bit different from what i usually write... hope you like it😅

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

: a bit suggestive, fluff, whipped jaehyun

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What do you give a man who has everything?"

"For Jaehyun? Damn girl, i don't know. What about a good dicking down" Joy says nonchanlantly like you're not having brunch at the moment.

"Sounds tempting" you mumble

"Your presence is a present enough, if he don't want that then I know a list of guys ready to take his place"

You chuckle at your friends words, "I like him though, I like his face, I like his hugs, I like that he likes me"

"You like all of him, it's not so bad too that his secret dream is to be a sugardaddy. Specifically yours"

"That doesn't make me a sugarbaby... does it?" you look over at her

"Girl, you are the definition of a sugarbaby, the lavish dates, the expensive gifts, out of town trips on his private yatch? what would you call that then?" Joy asks back

That got you quiet. Thinking about what you would call your relationship with Jaehyun.

You don't like being confused, it frustrates you. He frustrates you but there's no other man you would run to but him. No man can make you think like him. Here you are slowly losing your mind over finding a simple gift for him.

Smirking as an idea pop in your mind, "I think I got it" you mumble. Getting your bag to go the the mall and get what you need

"Where are you going?!" Joy shouts

"I'm going to make a man cry tonight, see you at the party" you shout back as you walk across the street, Joy just chuckles after you. Whatever it was you had planned, Jaehyun is definitely in for a surprise.

A few swipes of your card, and a couple of hours getting ready you finally make your way to the party. It was already packed by the time you got there, some faces you recognize but more you've never met before. Probably just here to have a good time.

You easily spot Joy amongst the crowd, happily belting out the song with a very drunk looking Jungwoo.

"You're hereeeee" she squeals when she spots you, pulling you by the arm and making you do a quick spin. Your little black dress and the cute matching black ribbon on your hair,

"You look hot babe! Is this Jaehyun's gift tonight?" she teases you, pulling playfully on the ribbon. She's not far off if you're being honest. Shrugging at her question teasingly, you excuse yourself to find the man of the hour.

He wasn't on the dance floor, in the main room or outside. You do find Yuta while you trying to find Jaehyun.

"Here for the birthday boy?" he asks, a beer in hand

"Yep, have you seen him?"

"He's been sulking all night, Joy and Jungwoo kept saying you weren't coming cause you were out on a date" he laughs

"They're evil, it's his birthday" you joke, laughing along with him.

"Go find your boyfriend before he finds you here, don't forget to use protection this house isn't baby proofed!" he shouts, earning a few glances but you pay no attention to them. Making your way back inside the house, you finally see the familiar tuff of dark hair, fair skin and those arms you loved having wrapped around you.

Confidently making your way over to him, he's still looking at the other side of the room where the door was. Like he was waiting for someone to walk through at any moment,

"Waiting for someone?" you ask, catching his attention

He turns his head so fast, you let out a giggle. At that moment Jaehyun didn't care if he looked like he cared too much. He didn't care if his friends were teasing him all night saying shit like you went out on a date and found someone better.

Who the fuck is better. He thought to himself earlier.

This arrangement he has with you is definitely a confusing one, but for you he'd ignore all the warning signs. Heck you could've been the biggest red flag and he'd still happily chase after you like a mad bull.

It's not like you're leading him on, he knows you like him. And he likes you. The two of you like the way you are right now, not exactly boyfriend and girlfriend but you do all the things that comes with being in a relationship. From the cute nicknames, to him driving you anywhere and everywhere, even having weekly movie nights in his room or yours (depends if all the guys are home). No man knows your body the way he does. And if he's completely honest, he would like to keep it that way.

In a way the two of you are lowkey, but nothing about the way you scream his name some nights says lowkey AT ALL.

You catch the way his face lights up, fighting the smile instead showing you a smirk. But you know him enough, he's happy you're here. You're happy you're here.

His eyes rakes over your body, head to toe. He tucks a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, "You look cute" he tells you, noting your wearing that damn ribbon he loves seeing on you. It makes you look innocent but he knows you well enough.

"Happy birthday" you tell him, throwing your arms around his neck to intertwine them. Dragging your nose along his jaw, kissing the shell of his ear knowing exactly what it'll do to him.

You smile when you pull back and see his ears turning red. A rather unimpressed look on his face, you want nothing but to kiss him but you hold back. For now.

"Thought you weren't going to make it" He tries to act nonchalant but his body was on autopilot. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you so close leaving no space between your bodies. If it was up to him, there's still too many places he's not close enough.

For example he wanted to just bury his face on your neck and mark you up for the world to see, let them wonder just who did that to you. He wanted to have your legs wrapped around him, like vice grips every time he pleases you.

"And you look like you're thinking about something else" you tease him, "I got you something" you add

"Told you, you didn't have to get me anything" he mumbles but you just shake your head at him

"Shhh, just this once let me buy you something. Tomorrow you can go back to living your dream of being my sugardaddy"

"Call me that again, I'm carrying you out of this kitchen and go upstairs" he tells you, leaning closer to you until your lips were centimeters away.

"Okay, daddy" you smirk, feeling his arms tighten around you before he lets you go. Confusion written across your face before you see him crouching down, feeling his hands behind your knees he throws you over his shoulder as gently as he could. One hand on your legs holding you while the other hand rest right were your dress stops.

"Hey! You guys! Come back here, we're doing shots" you hear Jungwoo scream but Jaehyun paid him no mind. It's like he's a man on a mission. Mission to ruin you.

He walks down the familiar hallway until he reaches the last door, punching in the code before walking inside. He doesn't let you down, again gently throwing you on his bed.

You laugh, like literally laugh out loud. Jaehyun watches you carefully, waiting for you to say something. He knows you know exactly how to rile him up.

"Now that I got you here, time for your present" you tell him, standing up to get a small paper bag on his table. You probably put it there before finding him downstairs earlier.

"Was this your masterplan?" he asks you

"Kinda, I have a few more lines to use but either way they will all end up with us locked here in your room" you giggle, how can you sound so angelic yet so devilish he will never understand.

"Here, even if you don't like it just pretend you do. For me" you tell him jokingly, taking the bag from you he opens it up to see a box. Inside it was a simple chain necklace. Anything from you is a prized possession to him.

That mug you made him on your second date? his favorite to have his coffee in the morning.

That tshirt you bought him because it had peaches all over it? his favorite shirt to wear at home.

That candle you bought for him to use in his room? still sitting on his bedside table, lighting it whenever you're over or when he misses you.

"Your style right?"

"You saw me looking at this when we went to the mall, was that why you told me not to buy it?" he asks, taking it out of the box to put it on. You watch happily as he finishes putting it on.

And god damn you were right, he looked good wearing it.

If taking gifts makes you this happy maybe, just maybe, he'll let you shop for him more. But in this relationship, he likes spending more on you. From dinners to quick coffee runs to shopping sprees, he's always the one to swipe his black card. He's so damn hot while doing it, you thought.

"Just imagined that hanging over my face, I had to buy it" He chuckles at your reasoning. You saying that so casually as if it was a very normal scenario.

"Is this a gift for me or for you?" he raises a brow at you, he does love the gift. He loves it even more now knowing why you bought it. He already know how this night will end up, making mental note to make that imagination of yours into reality.

"Well that's first part of your gift, close your eyes"

You wait for him to do so, guiding him to sit on his bed. He hears some rustling, tempted to take a peak but he knows you'll scold him.

After a few moment he feels your hands holding his arms, guiding him to stand again. "Keep them closed until I tell you to open okay, I'm serious Jae"

He chuckles when he hears the nickname, it always sounds so cute when it comes from you.

"Okay now open" you tell him.

And when he did, his jaw nearly dropped on the floor. Cute is not the word to describe you right now. Divine, heavenly maybe because he's about to take all his time to worship you.

He should've known there was a reason you wore that damn ribbon. He loved seeing you with it, he knows you know he loves it.

And now here you are, on his bed with nothing but that black silk ribbon in your hair. He will never look at it the same again, he might just end up with a boner everytime he sees you with it.

"You don't like your gift?" tilting your head to the side, hooking your foot around his leg to pull him closer.

"Goddamit, woman. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he breathes out, leaning down so he's face to face with you. Your arms automatically going around him, he can feel you warmth against him.

Is it because he's still all dressed up that why the room just got hotter or because the girl of his dream and reality is lying naked underneath him?

The latter. Definitely the latter.

"Satisfied with your second gift?" you ask him, leaving a trail of kisses from him jaw down his neck then back up until your noses were touching.

"If you wanted this damn necklace hanging over you that much, all you had to do was ask" he teases you, you can feel his hand on your body. It feels like he's leaving a trail of fire with the way your body is burning.

"This is a bad idea, now every time I see you with that necklace I'm afraid I'm going to jump you" he chuckles, finally leaning further down to capture your lips with his. Getting lost in each others kisses, at first you tried to fight for some control but Jaehyun is never one to back down. Not when it comes to you.

That got you giving up, like you always do, letting him explore all there is to explore. It wasn't new to you or him, but his kisses still felt like a man chasing after air.

When the two of you broke apart, you can see already how swollen his lips are. And the two of you haven't even started yet.

"You know what's a worse idea? that ribbon. Now everytime I see you wearing that, this is exactly where you'll end up"

You chuckle, pulling him down for another heated kiss, "Then plan succeeded"

#nct #story #tags #fic #nct fic #nct fluff #nct smut #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct au #nct jaehyun #jaehyun au #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun smut #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun imagine

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phoenixsbby · 2 years

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This Isn’t What It Looks Like - Hangman x Bartender!reader

summary: Hangman is totally, 100% over his ex … he just needs a fake girlfriend to prove it.

WC: 5.2k

a/n: let’s take every cliche romance trope and turn it into a Hangman fic, shall we?

warnings: mentions of sex, swearing

“No, absolutely not.”

“What?! Why?” Hangman’s leaning over the bar, staring you down intently while you finish up the closing tasks of the Hard Deck. You ran the last call bell awhile ago, happy to see everyone closed out promptly. Everyone except Hangman, that is. No, Hangman continued to linger until you said goodnight to the last patron. Then he approached, marched right up to where you’d been cleaning with that charming grin spread across his lips. You knew you were in for it.

“Do you know how ridiculous this sounds?” Hangman just shrugs. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend to prove to your ex that you’ve moved on ... which by the way you so clearly have not.”

“I have. And ... yes?”

“You think we can act like we like each other enough to convince her we’re in love?”

“I don’t see it being a problem.” His eyes flicker across your face before dropping to your body, giving it a quick once over. Heat rushes to your cheeks, despite the fact that it’s not the first time Hangman has looked at you that way.

“Why is she even going to be here? A Naval base isn’t an ideal tourist attraction.”

“It is if you’re an Admirals daughter.” He visibly winces as your jaw compulsively drops.

“Oh, Hangman.” You tsk at him, fighting back a smirk that threatens to break out.

“That’s beyond the point.” He swats at the air as if trying to magically push the conversation along.

“Well, what’s in it for me?”

“My undying gratitude?”

You hum, tapping a sarcastic finger against your chin before replying, “Next.”

“Y/NNNN.” He whines your name, like a child pleading with their parents for just one more piece of candy. Anyone and everyone who knows him could tell you that Jake Seresin has an ego. They would say that he’s demanding and likes to remind people that more often than not, he gets what he wants. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Hangman beg for anything before ... you kind of like it.

“Jaaaakkkeee.” You match his tone, pouting your bottom lip a bit for emphasis.

“I’ll scrub the bar clean for two weeks, I’ll take Marlie to the dog park every weekend for the next month, I’ll kiss the god damn floor you walk on.” The offer is tempting, you can’t deny that. You act like you’re considering it while simultaneously wiping down a glass as he continues. "We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You and Hangman are friends, in every way that a bartender at a Navy bar and a Naval Lieutenant can be. On nights when he’s not deployed or doesn’t have too early of a morning the next day, he’ll come around. Sometimes he’s with friends, sometimes he comes alone. On a couple of rare nights when the place is quiet, Jake will keep you company by choosing a seat at the bar rather than a table tucked in the back. When you can, you’ll sit beside him, make small talk, play some cards, or people watch until you earn a glare from the old guy who always challenges people to a game of darts despite having the worst aim you’ve ever seen.

During those nights, the ones you let resurface in your mind more times that you’d like to admit, you’ll find your legs tangled in between his, your bodies leaning in, unconsciously craving the closeness. You liked the way it felt to have some part of you pressed against him, liked the way his heat mixed with yours. Usually the contact ended when you remembered you had a job to do but, you never willingly pulled away. You noticed he never did either.

“That’s a loose term for it, sure.” It’s a lie and you both know it.

“And friends do favors for other friends, right?” He raises his brows, his normal grin turning into a sly and suggestive one.

This time while wiping down a new glass, you actually consider it. In the time that you’ve known Jake, he’s been there for you. Again, there are only so many ways that a bartender and a bar patron can be there for each other but, Jake has checked almost all the boxes.

And then there was that one night, the one you’re too eager to blame on alcohol despite only having two drinks a couple hours apart. Sometimes after you get home from work, still buzzing from the energy of the bar, you’ll stare up at your bedroom ceiling and allow the memory to play out like a movie inside your head.

“I think it’s about time for me to get you home.” Hangman bopped your nose with the tip of his pointer finger. The crowd at the bar didn’t look like it would be dwindling out any time soon, drinks were flowing, people were singing and dancing. You were reveling in the fact that you had the night off but, were choosing to ignore that you were spending said night off at your workplace.

“What? Why? I’m not even-“

“Drunk, I know. But it’s late and I’d like to be sure that you make it home safely.” Jake said and you forced yourself to not to acknowledge the way his smile, soft and sweet, made your heart drum harder against your breastbone.

“Ever the gentleman.” You poked his nose back and let him drive you home. It was the middle of the summer which meant the California day heat lingered well past dark and you’d insisted that every single window in Jakes jeep be rolled down. The normally humid breeze was cool against your hot, slightly sweaty skin and whipped through your hair as you watched the coast pass by in a blur.

A hand was placed gently on your thigh, not too high but, certainly not low. A warm feeling, like static electricity, radiated from where his palm rested, spreading its way higher and higher until it pooled in between your legs. Without looking over at him, you settled your hand on the top of his and intertwined your fingers together.

When he pulled into the driveway of the small cottage you were renting, neither of you made any efforts to remove your hands from each others hold. The head rush you were getting from the sensation of his skin on yours was enough to have you question whether or not you were actually drunk.

But there was no way. Alcohol had nothing to do with the tidal wave of want that came over you when your eyes finally met, still sitting in the car, with only the center console keeping your bodies apart. You’d like to believe that want wasn’t derived from the fact that a very attractive man was staring at you like any second he’d devour you (although, that was certainly a driving factor).

You wanted to believe the result was from the fact that you knew Jake Seresin. You knew all his favorite restaurants he ate at growing up in Texas and how his dad was an asshole who’s never truly seen how great of son he raised. He was Jake, the aviator who listened to you babble on about your training your new puppy and your many failures attempts to find new hobbies. He was the man who really saw you and came back night after night anyway.

You felt a rush of coldness cover your body when he lifted his hand from your leg and stepped into the balmy San Diego night. He rounded the car and stopped in front of your door before pulling it open and reaching for you to help you climb out. You took his hand and shamelessly clung to his arm and to his side until you reached your front door.

You lingered there, allowing your key to hover just above the lock before deciding to throw all caution to the wind. He was much closer than you anticipated, your chests nearly colliding when you turned to face him. Neither of you spoke, like you were afraid that one wrong word or sound would pop this bubble of earnest tension you’d created.

He took a step forward and your knee-jerk reaction was to take one back so, he continued pressing you until your back met the wood of your front door with a thump. Your breathing began to turn unsteady when he reached a hand up, hovering, almost waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, he let himself push a few stray strands of hair behind your ear while inching his face closer and closer and closer until …

He stopped with only a few inches left separating your faces. He was so close, you were engulfed in his scent - spicy and sweet and completely Jake. His hand moved down to your face, tracing, pressing, caressing its way down your throat and to your collarbones. He looked possessed, a man completely captivated by you and your skin.

With an easy dip of your head, you let your lips dance over his sharp jaw line, desperate to relieve this aching pressure that was building inside of you. More pressure mounted when you saw, when you felt, the way his body reacted to your movements. He released a long, rattled, shaky breath and gripped the door frame beside you for dear life.

His knee nudged its way in between your legs and you fought the urge to moan at its solidness, so close to where you needed him the most. He pulled his face back, just enough to gaze down at you through hooded eyes.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice came out rough and guttural, like he was physical forcing the words to come out.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You didn’t, not in the slightest. In fact, you were seconds away from getting down on the ground and begging him to touch you, to love you. You reached out and let your hands travel from his uniformed chest down to his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges of his hard muscles beneath your palms.

He scooped up your hands with his and held them, so tightly, before bringing them to his lips. He kissed them, branding your skin as if his lips were hot irons, muttered a ‘goodnight’ then walked away.

You hadn’t felt that way, that impassioned and desperate in a long time. Maybe you’ll do this for Hangman because he’s right, friends do favors for each other. Or maybe you’ll do it for more selfish reasons, ones you’ll never so much as openly admit to having.

“Marlie likes to be at the park early, like really early to get the best pick of the sticks. And you don’t have to clean the bar but, I wouldn’t mind some company after-“

You let out a grunt when Hangman reaches across the bar, grabs you by the arms, and hauls you into him. The wood of the bar top is drilling into your hips, poking so uncomfortably into your bones yet, you don’t move. You sink into him despite the pain.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He squeezes you then pulls back, ruffling a hand through your hair which you quickly bat away.

“Yes, I know, I’m the best. So ... where do we start?”

——

The Friday night rush at the Hard Deck was showing you no mercy, you barely had a minute to breathe, let alone time to think about your agreement with Hangman. In fact, the predicament hadn’t even crossed your mind until your eyes meet unmistakable, rich green ones with a contagious grin to match from across the bar.

“M’love.” He greets you as you set down two cold beers in front of him.

“Hangster.” You greet him back with a wink. You go to move on to the next customer when you hear him call you back.

“Just a heads up, she should be here soon.”

“Ah, yes, she who shall not be named.” You smirk, trying to do your job while holding the conversation. You pop off a few lids and swipe some empties before looking back at him, noticing that he’s not smirking along with you.

“Y/N.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, Jake, I’m ready to wow her. You are going to look so over her by the time I’m through with you.”

“I’m walking away now.” He grumbles as he grabs the beers and turns to go meet up with his fellow pilots.

“See ya later, babe!” You call after him, chuckling to yourself before getting back in the zone. Some of your friends and family had scrutinized you at first when they heard you were bartending. They acted like it was a black hole for all career potential but, they’re wrong. Bartending is no easy gig, it requires a lot of skill and acute focus.

Most nights, you allowed yourself to only pay attention to what was going on behind the bar and those sitting across from it. You rarely noticed the ebb and the flow of the crowd, who came in and who came out. Tonight however, you’re distracted, catching yourself watching the door, staring at any pretty girl that comes in wondering if she’s the one.

You’re in the middle of a lighthearted conversation with one of your favorite veterans, your back facing the door, when you hear Jake call for you. When you turn around, you’re met with Hangman’s bright smile and a beautiful blonde attached to his side. Your eyes flicker to where his arm is wrapped around her back, to where their hips connect, before forcing yourself to refocus on literally anywhere else that isn’t Jake’s body coming in contact with hers.

He introduces her to you, her name is as pretty and enchanting as her princess style hair. She must get it blown out once a week, that volume is too good to be natural. And her skin is nearly flawless, kind of glowing. There’s no way she uses drug store skin care. God damn, you need to get it together.

“This,” Hangman reaches across the bar, his fingers tucking a stray piece of hair that fell away from your pony tail back over your ear “is my gorgeous girlfriend, Y/N.”

“It’s great to meet you.” You force the words to come out steady and sweet, not because you want to spite her but, because you feel rattled after that touch, under the gentle look Jake is giving you.

“Likewise.” She replies with a smile.

“I’m due for a break soon, I’ll meet you guys when I’m off?” You place a bottle of the beer Jake usually gets down in front of him and ask his ex what she’d like. After mixing her a vodka soda, she tells you she can’t wait to hear about how you and Hangman met and fell in love.

You send Hangman a uh-wait-we-never-discussed-that look as he leads her away from the bar, holding your eyes to his for as long as he can over his shoulder.

Over the next fifteen minutes, you can’t help but watch them interact in between serving. Are they standing too close? Have they made any attempts at touching each other? You notice Hangman’s smiling and laughing a lot and it’s not that you don’t like seeing him happy, you just want to get a better understanding of how truthful he was when he said he’s moved on.

When your designated break time rolls around, you let Penny know and clock out with record speed before making a beeline for Hangman. When you reach him, you place a hand on his back to let him know you’re there causing him to spin around to face you.

“There she is.” His eyes twinkle with recognition before he tugs you against him, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Wow, he’s good at this. You wrap your arm around him in response, fisting the material of his shirt in your hand to keep him close. All for show, of course.

“So, Y/N,” His ex pulls your attention towards her “how long have you been a bartender here?”

“Almost a year.” You smile, a completely natural one associated with all of the memories of working at the Hard Deck. “I take classes during the day so, helping Penny out at night works out well for me.”

“She’s in a graduate program, working toward becoming an electrical engineer.” Jake adds, causing you to jerk your eyes to meet his. “Her dad was an engineer for the Navy. Guess you two have something else in common other than being completely enamored by me.” His ex lets out a loud laugh and playfully smacks Hangman’s arm, all while you just stare.

You’re shocked he remembers that. You told him about it once, when you first met. Since then, he’s asked about how classes were going but, you figured he wouldn’t remember the specifics.

“She’s so smart.” He holds your eyes to his while resting a hand against the back of your neck and kneading it gently. Holy shit, you might spontaneously combust.

‘That’s really cool, Y/N.” She says, snapping you out of your trance.

“Thanks.” Your voice comes out a bit coarse so, you clear your throat and turn to smile at her. “Not as cool as having an Admiral for a father. I bet that got Jake in just the right amount of trouble.” You pinch his side, smiling wider as he jumps and grabs your hand tightly.

“Oh, yeah.” You watch as her eyes flicker to Hangman, a vaguely recognizable and totally unsubtle look, almost like desire, settles over her features. “We used to really get into it.”

…oh?

You let out a hesitant chuckle, hoping Hangman will take the reins on steering this conversation somewhere else but when you glance up at him, you see him looking back at her with a matching expression of longing. You feel it like a punch to the chest and squeeze his hand that’s still locked around yours.

His ex is the first to shake out what can only be described as their staring contest, looking to you with a tight smile. “Well, let’s hear it! How did you guys end up together?”

“Yeah guys,” Phoenix and Rooster come strolling over to your group, sharing matching pompous smirks “tell us all about it.” Phoenix rests her elbows on the table while Rooster takes a seat, both ready to watch the Y/N and Hangman show. The only thing they’re missing is a bowl of popcorn.

“Spilled drink!”

“The beach!”

Oh, shit. Your voices layer right over each other and now you have three sets of eyebrows raised sky high in your direction. Phoenix releases a snort into her drink and Rooster’s grinning like he just won the freaking lottery.

You and Hangman’s eyes dart to meet, a muscle in his jaw clicking, one of your eyes twitching before you open your mouth to try and recover the situation.

“Well, yeah, uh .. we met because this smooth pilot knocked a beer right out of my hand and onto my shirt.” You feel a smile, a real, honest smile come across your face because what you were saying was true. The first time you met, Jake had turned around right into you, knocking over three drinks and soaking you in cheap alcohol.

You can remember the look on his face vividly, the way he was opening his mouth to say something along the lines of ‘watch where you’re going’ but, stopped short as he took you in. When your eyes met, when you felt the scorch of his stare on your skin, getting the stains out of one of your favorite shirts was the last thing on your mind.

“I asked her to meet me on the beach after her shift.” Hangman adds. “We walked together, I told her I’d pay for a new shirt but, she insisted it wasn’t necessary.” Still true. “She said she sees the stain as a kind of reminder. She’d look at it and always think of me ... and how insanely good looking I am.” You roll your eyes playfully, hearing a chorus of laughs and groans from around you.

“I really wanted to kiss her then.” His grin simmers down into a look of yearning, one that’s almost slightly pained.

“And you did, right? Kiss her?” His ex asks.

“Yeah.” Hangman clears his throat, pulling his eyes away from yours. “And she’s been mine ever since.”

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest?” Phoenix coos before sending you a wink and pulling a still grinning Bradley up and towards the bar.

You’re blessed with an opportunity to divert the conversation (because any more and your heart may give out) when an older, but classic song you recognize instantly plays from the jukebox.

“Oh, this is my favorite song.” You say as the slow rhythm flows through the bar.

“Well you heard her, Hangman! Dance with her!” His ex smiles, pushing you two toward the area that others have designated as a makeshift dance floor.

“Oh no, that’s okay.” You shake your head, laughing nervously.

“We should,” Hangman takes your hand and starts to tread backwards, pulling you along with him “before you have to get back to your shift.”

You let him pull your body flush against his before he props the hand he was holding on his chest and grabs the other one to hold up in the air. You’re thankful when he sways you softly, worried that heavier movements mixed with the dizziness that his proximity brings would most likely result with you hitting the floor.

“I’d say it’s working.” His breath grazes your temple, pulling a shudder out from deep within your body.

“Hm?” You hum, pulling back a bit to look into his eyes.

“Our relationship. She seems convinced.” You swallow thickly and nod, glad in someway that you’ve managed to persuade this woman into thinking you’re in love with each other. You must be great actors, maybe you should both consider a career change. “She told me she was single.”

“Oh.” You mutter, seemingly all you can manage in that moment. “And how do you feel about that?”

He holds your stare with slightly furrowed brows and you can see the wheels turning inside his mind. Whether or not it’s because he’s reading yours or formulating his answer, you’re not sure. And you may never know because the sound of the bell pulls you away from him and his attention. When you glance over at the bar, it’s packed and Penny looks like she’s drowning.

Without giving it much thought, you press a kiss to Hangman’s cheek and whisper “I’ll see you later.” before booking it back to work.

——

You lose track of time, as you do frequently when the bar is this full. A couple of minutes may have passed, maybe a few hours, before Penny taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, sweetie. Can you do me a favor and run these out back? They’re taking up too much room behind here.” Penny asks, arms full of empty Coors Light boxes. You happily accept them from her grasp and make your way out of the back exit. When you manage to push the door open, you’re met with the sight of Hangman and his ex. Alone. Out back. With her hand on his chest.

You flinch involuntarily, nearly dropping the boxes all over the pavement. Hangman takes a big step backwards and his ex tucks her hands behind her back, all while you just stand there, wide-eyed. Should you be mad, as his fake girlfriend? It shouldn’t really hurt yet, it does. You can feel that pain settling in like a pit in your stomach. Does this count as cheating, even if technically no cheating can occur if everyone involved is single? If it is, should you cause a scene?

Ugh, they need a rule book for the parameters of fake dating.

“Y/N,” Jake takes a step toward you “this isn’t what it looks like.” Your eyes flicker between Hangman and his ex, who both do a horrible job of hiding their guilt stricken features and you think okay, that’s bull but, you plaster on a smile anyway.

“No, yeah, of course. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.” You toss the boxes into the recycling before heading back toward the door. You’ve almost scurried your way out of the situation when you hear Jake call your name again. You grip the handle, hard, and look over your shoulder. “I’ve got to get back in there.”

And that, you do. You work feverishly, like the only thing in the world that matters to you is serving the best drinks these customers have ever had. You only focus on three things; pouring, cleaning, cashing out and doing it again and again. You certainly do not focus on the thought of Hangman and his ex, standing so close, touching each other.

Pour, clean, cash out, pour, clean, cash out.

When Penny rings the last call bell, the relief you feel is so deep that you’re sure it’s radiating from your bones. The night’s finally over, which means you can put these weird, confusing circumstances with Hangman to bed and return back to your completely normal friendship tomorrow.

You were hoping to head out early, sneaky and silent to avoid a certain someone. But Penny asked you to cover the closing duties and you simply cannot say no to that wonderful woman. So you stayed busy and by the time the bar is cleared out, you want to celebrate - you’ve successfully evaded that conversation.

That is, until Hangman comes sauntering up to the bar seemingly out of no where.

“So, about earlier. I can explain-“

“Don’t worry, we’re not actually dating remember? So, no real apologies needed.”

“Right.” A beat of silence passes. You’re very close to being the one to break the silence, to ask him if you were going to pretend this night ever happened or simply ignore all of it and say goodnight. But, he beats you to it.

“She asked me if I thought we were going to last. She asked me for a second chance, something about seeing me after all this time and realizing she still has feelings.” You nod, putting on a brave face. If that’s what Jake wants, if being back with her would make him happy then, so be it.

“I told her I didn’t want her. I told her I loved you.” You swallowed the emotion clawing its way up your throat.

“Right, because to her, we’re in a completely legitimate relationship and couldn’t be happier.”

“Exactly.” More silence and you take it as an opportunity to really look at him. You take in his droopy posture, his slightly unfocused eyes. He looks sad. And all you want to do is make him feel better.

“Hey,” You place a hand over his “hypothetically, you chose the moral high road tonight. I’m proud of you for that. You don’t deserve someone who would put herself out there for a guy who’s taken.” You wink to try to lighten his mood but, he only manages a give you a thin grin back.

“I’m sure you’ll find the right someone ... someday.” You add, the words tasting like battery acid on your tongue.

“I’m not really looking.” He grits out, removing his hand from under yours.

“But .. you leave with women all the time, I’ve seen you.” You scoff, turning around because you need to scrub the other side of the bar and because you know if he continues to look you in the eye for long enough, he’ll see right through you. He’ll see right into your heart and find that little part of it you’ve tucked away for him.

“You’re seeing things then because I haven’t. I haven’t slept with a woman, even so much as thought about it since ...” He trails off and you pause, anticipation compelling your body to vibrate, like a jet engine starting up inside your chest.

“Since when?”

“Since I met you.”

You feel your breath hitch and have to grip the edge of the bar to keep yourself up right considering your limbs have decided to turn to gelatin. You turn to face him, taking in his glazed over eyes and delicate features.

“But that was-“

“Trust me, you do not need to remind me how long it’s been.” He forces out a breathy chuckle. You’re convinced that blood no longer pumps in your veins, fire courses through you instead and it’s igniting every particle in your body like they’re sparks waiting to catch. You drop the rag you’ve been using and step out from behind the bar, aching to be closer to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I figured you didn’t want to be with someone like me. Someone who’s gone half the time, someone who may never come back.” He shakes his head, letting it hang low. “I didn’t want to put you through that.”

You reach out, tracing the collar of his khaki uniform with your fingertips. “Can’t I make that decision for myself?”

“You can,” He looks up, resting a hand over the one you have against him “but if you chose to be with me then, you’re making the wrong one.”

“Then let me be wrong.” You let Jake guide your hand to his cheek. He leans into your touch before putting his other hand around your waist and pulling you into him. He kisses you with all the hunger and passion you felt the night on your porch, that you’ve continued to feel for him since. His lips are warm and burning with need as he takes control, diving his tongue deeper like he’s desperate for air and the only oxygen left in the word is buried inside you.

He pushes his body against yours, walking you back into the wooden edge of the bar. Desperation starts to bleed through, wrecking all your precision and turning both of your movements sloppy and frantic. You think it must be unnatural to kiss someone with this much desire, to no longer need air as much as you need their lips on yours. Eventually, one of you will pull away to breathe but, you’ll be on your last dying gasp before you do.

What pulls you away from each other isn’t basic human need - it’s Penny, pushing through the door from the kitchen and freezing in her tracks once she realizes what she’s seeing.

You break apart with blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment rather than lust.

“Pen, uh-“ You push Jake further away from you “this isn’t what it looks like?”

Hangman laughs, latching his hand around yours before pulling you back to him without remorse. “Sorry Penny, this is exactly what it looks like.”

——

^ me, preaching Hangman supremacy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman fic #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin fic #jake 'hangman' seresin fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun fanfiction

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the-dixon-effect · 8 months

Text

Just a Girl

requested by: @dixonsgirl93 which you can find here -> masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for the request my love!! i love this concept so much that it had me up at 4am writing it after recovering from a long-haul flight, so so sorry that this took so long for a little drabble xx

It was too tempting.

Not after years of stumbling around in dirty rags and a single pair of worn combat boots. Not after fighting for your life every single day, were you going to pass this up. Today, you were safe. And right in front of you, in this completely empty mall, were a pair of pristine black stilettos.

You held one in each hand as you admired them, a treasure of a world lost in time. You felt like a different person just clutching them.

"Hey, Maggie!" you are unable to control the wide smile cast across your lips. "Look what I found!" the girl glanced in your direction from the entrance of the store, scoffing at your excitement.

"Whatcha gonna do with those?" she asked, chuckling, as she jogged up to the display table coated in a thick layer of dust.

"I don't know. Walk around. Dance. Put 'em on a table and forbid anyone from touching them," you said quietly, smiling as you palmed at the crisp black leather. "They could be a symbol. Y'know, Lord of the Flies style," you joked, meeting the farmgirl's eyes. Strangely enough, the ghost of a boutique was relatively empty apart from these shoes, a few scraps of useless clothes scattered around and many plastic hangers adorning the white-tiled floor.

"Alright, fine. But ya' have to bring that little black dress back, too," she teased, in that familiar Southern drawl. Pointing to a rack of clothes on the other side of the store, you spotted a lone black dress threatening to fall off the flimsy hanger. It was no surprise that when the remaining survivors came through these parts, rummaging through stores and kitchens and bunkers, a pair of high heels and a mini dress didn't make the cut for the survivalist supply list. It had been a couple years by now, and indeed no one back at the prison would care if you indulged in a bit of fun. Besides, you're just a girl. And a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get by.

Most evenings were spent in the foyer swapping stories and enjoying the ever-expanding group's company, now that everyone was feeling more comfortable in the prison. Daryl was perched on the second step of the cool, steel staircase fletching some bolts for his crossbow, after the fairly uneventful run earlier. One thought did linger in his mind, however - as he tuned out to the rest of the conversations engaging in his midst. You had briefly shown him what you managed to pick up back at the abandoned mall, some scraps of food, some comics for Carl, and... what could only be described as an image from one of his wildest dreams. Or worst nightmares. What the hell would he do with himself if you suddenly appeared in that dress? And those heels? Probably run, and hide someplace where nobody would notice his reaction. And just when he was imagining what you would look like in that outfit from earlier, he heard a voice call out from upstairs.

"Hershel! You better believe these things are harder to walk in than a peg leg!"

The foyer erupted in chuckles as conversations ceased while everybody looked up at you on the balcony, held up firmly by Maggie who couldn't control her laughter either.

"Come on down, Y/N. Betcha can't do it!" the grey-haired man exclaimed as the rest of the group watched you stumble to the top of the staircase.

Oh God. She's so popular. And beautiful - were the thoughts swirling around in Daryl's head as he turned a swift 180 and looked up at your perfect figure. You looked so pretty when you laughed like that; a face that lit up the room - lit up this rotten world - when the sweet sound that even a siren couldn't mimic echoed over the walls of the dismal building. And that outfit; the smooth black dress that clung to your thighs so perfectly with a neckline that revealed just enough to make him go insane. Those heels. Daryl always had a thing for girls with nice legs, but he was always too embarrassed to mention it. It may have slipped out in front of his older brother once upon a time, and for the years to come he never shut up about it. Humiliating Daryl whenever a gorgeous girl like you walked past. Daryl never denied it, though, that you and that perfect body of yours were gonna be the death of him someday. And that felt like right now.

"Maggie, don't you dare let that girl fall!" Michonne shouted, laughing as she kicked her feet up on the cafeteria table and leaned back.

"Daryl, I swear to God, if you don't catch me I'll kill you," you began, addressing the archer that was gawking up at you, the one slightly obstructing your wobbly path down the staircase. Everybody in that cell block watched the poor man snap out of his daydreams as he shot up and grabbed your hand as your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Maggie let go of her tight grip on your shoulders and erupted into giggles, as though she were playing Cupid.

"Thank you, Daryl," you said sweetly, not realising that Daryl is physically suffocating as you clutched Daryl's calloused palm. You took the opportunity to steady yourself on both feet and do a little twirl, lifting Daryl's arm up over your head as you spun around as gracefully as you could manage. A couple of cheers escaped from your audience, making you smile deeply. You hadn't felt this pretty in a long time.

"Whatcha doin' playin' dress-up anyway?" Daryl drawled, quietly.

"Well, I'm just a girl."

taglist: @alldevilsarehere90 @poisonmenegan @radcollectivesoul @emilykolchivans @pinchoftheoutsiders guys the taglist is looking a little lonely!!

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omegalomania · 2 years

Note

Wait why does everyone hate brendon urie again?

i was tempted to just say "google it" but honestly panic's pr team is working doubletime to sanitize this bastard so here's a quick primer for those who are out of the loop.

this got long so i’m putting it under a cut. as a warning, this is going to have discussions and screenshots of people saying and doing extremely morally reprehensible shit, including racist, homophobic, and transphobic language, sexual harassment of minors, and more. tread with caution.

i'm also going to top this off with the caveat that brendon has a history of saying generally stupid and casually shitty things that a lot of people have noticed and called attention to, but these were largely unremarkable in the sense that they were the sort of things that i was not surprised to hear a privileged cis dude say. so while that's definitely a factor - the guy has said very shitty, openly racist, gross things, etc., numerous times and on numerous platforms and i do not want to overlook that - i also don't want to pretend like that’s the only thing going on here because there is a lot of other heinous shit at work.

i’m also not going to go into the intricacies of song meanings or lyrics and the like aside from a couple touchstone examples. it’s pretty public knowledge by now that i don’t know how but they found me (henceforth referred to as idkhow, fronted by dallon weekes, who worked/toured with panic for a good eight years as its bassist) has quite a few numbers that take implicit and explicit aim at panic, most prominently the video for their single “do it all the time,” which featured dallon setting fire to all the suits he used to wear on tour with the band. it’s an open secret that dallon was not treated very well during his time with panic, but we’ll get to that. the point here is that i don’t want to focus on conjecture of speculation when we have a wealth of very hard evidence at our disposal.

so let’s get into it.

the real Poop started up late 2019 iirc, when numerous panic fans started passing around stories about zack hall, panic's bodyguard and security guy who had been with the band since the fever era. as the only person who had actually been with the band as long as brendon himself, zack had a fair amount of sway with the fans and was notably very very close with brendon. as more and more people spoke up, it became apparent that zack had done a whole lot of things that i would term as "incredibly fucked up" over the years with people being generally afraid to say anything. it’s been pointed out to me that these accusations only picked up traction around that time; fans have been raising flags about zack’s behavior for years without any reaction from panic’s management.

around this time, discussion began circulating that brendon himself had sexually harassed/assaulted multiple fans (many of them minors at the time). some of these accusations, such as his attempt to solicit nudes from fans, have proven to be way muddier to and harder to confirm, seeing as brendon was allegedly not in charge of his socials for some of this time and one of the people using his handles to solicit fans for nudes was reportedly a former stalker of his, chelsey lynn.

i think it is worth noting that brendon has brought up his history with “stage gay” with founding member, guitarist, composer, and lyricist ryan ross and mentioned that brendon’s attempts to get handsy on stage were not always taken kindly (emphasis mine):

For our first headline tour I would go up to Ryan our guitar player, and like kiss him on the neck or kiss him on the mouth and he would be so mad. I was like, I just want to kiss you bro.

(that’s also the interview where brendon tried to both-sides the issue of roseanne being a hideous fucking racist. so, fun stuff.)

in any case, it took brendon four months to respond to any of the accusations leveled at him and zack. he ended up doing so by filming a two-minute apology on his twitch account (which was locked to subscribers only, meaning it was essentially monetized) [twitter thread summary for those who can't stomach it], only to say that he was just too anxious to say anything and that while zack had been removed from his position, he and brendon would remain close friends. he did not respond to any of the allegations against himself, and proceeded to basically go completely radio silent on all social media until reemerging in 2022 to promote viva las vengeance.

(contrast to this to how speedily he fired touring guitarist kenny harris in 2018 when multiple allegations arose that he was soliciting underage girls. he was removed from the tour in less than twenty-four hours. while the expediency of this was praised at the time, it retroactively raises a lot of questions as to how much brendon and/or zack knew about this behavior beforehand and were simply waiting for a good PR call to do something about it.)

brendon seeing no issues with zack’s behavior and only doing something about it when backed into a corner is very much not a good look, and is suggestive of the possibility that he’s complicit in or at the very least tolerant of this kind of fuckery.

but wait. theres more.

beyond the genuine fucked up behavior, brendon also has a history of severely mistreating his bandmates. we could get into the politics of the infamous schism that split founding member ryan ross (along with bassist jon walker) from brendon and the band’s drummer, spencer smith, but that is its own bag of worms and this post is long enough already. that drama is very well-covered. however, i think it’s worth noting that out of every single member of the band that has come through it, both creative contributor and touring member, the only former member to depart the band amiably was spencer, who took his leave because of struggles with alcoholism. he’s the only one who remains on good terms with brendon to this day, but he’s also technically brendon’s boss at this point since he helps manage the label dcd2, of which panic at the disco is a part.

most apparent and well-documented of brendon’s spotty history with his own bandmates is his treatment of dallon weekes and his wife, breezy weekes, while the former was writing and touring with the band. in that little zack hall clusterfuck above you can see places where breezy talked about being repeatedly harassed but electing to keep quiet so that dallon wouldn't risk losing his job. reportedly they both went to panic's management to put a stop to it, but the bad behavior continued, with both zack hall and brendon’s wife, sarah urie, as propagators. there was public outcry as people insisted that dallon and breezy were making this up for attention. however, eventually former touring guitarist (from 2009-2012) ian crawford (along with his sister), both spoke up to corroborate that zack's behavior (and brendon's enabling of it) were very much recurring issues and were part of the reason that ian left panic in the first place. ian's twitter is no longer active, so all i have are screenshots on tumblr for this one.

dallon has not spoken of his time spent with panic with much fondness. he replaced bassist jon walker in 2009 and contributed creatively on both vices and virtues (2011) and too weird to live, too rare to die (2013). for the former, he was responsible for the concept and album art. for the latter, he got writing credit for all but two of the tracks (casual affair and end of all things), and you can even find an early version of "far too young to die" that was originally penned for one of dallon's earlier projects, the brobecks. the controversial track "girls/girls/boys" (as well as “all the boys”) from too weird was written for dallon's wife, breezy, as a celebration for her pansexuality. the finished product would end up being about an alleged threesome brendon had.

in 2015 dallon stated that he would no longer be involved in panic’s writing process but would continue to serve as touring bassist before departing officially in 2017 and focusing all his efforts on the aforementioned idkhow along with former falling in reverse drummer (and former fellow brobecks bandmate) ryan seaman. while dallon has remained relatively cagey about his time with panic (as is entirely within his rights), he has on occasion commented that he often felt bullied and belittled in the workplace, and once referred to zack hall as "the actual worst person [he had] ever met."

breezy has been more frank about what dallon had to deal with during his time with the band and over time, dallon has been more up front about this as well. turns out dallon was underpaid to the point where he had to take up a second job cleaning carpets while touring with panic, and working side jobs and donating plasma for gas money between tours. this continued well into 2010 and possibly for longer. the ratio was reportedly something like $400 a night compared to brendon's $15k paycheck, so take that as you will.

that's most of what i can remember. i tried to sauce everything i could but please let me know if i missed anything. i also tried to embed the images but doing so kept breaking the damn post cause this is a webbed site so you only get links SORRY

tldr brendon urie is self-absorbed prick who hoards credit, mistreats his musicians, shelters predators, and may very well be a predator himself. fuck him.

also, while i definitely don't want to downplay the severity of just how horrendous a lot of this shit is, in the interests of not wrapping this on a totally down note i do want to mention that people were writing brendon and panic out of the "emo trinity" legacy as early as mid-2019 because everyone hated pray for the wicked that fucking much. after having to endure the musical travesty that is high hopes innumerable times during every single 20-minute grocery store run i was ready to chalk up my dislike of him to sheer annoyance so you can imagine my surprise when i learned that not only was this annoyance justified i wasn't actually hating him nearly enough.

#panic at the disco #brendon urie #yeah whatever ill maintag this just in case people arent aware #also yes you can reblog this as a general rule i never put something on this blog im not ok w people reblogging #have fun go wild whatever but people looking to pick a fight WILL be blocked #i was watching a lot of this going down in real time but there arent a lot of useful consolidations of all this information #and i'd like to stress that this is a fraction of a fraction of whats out there #theres also a lot of discussion on tiktok reportedly?? idk i dont have a tiktok and never will #if anyone feels like adding anything feel free but do please source it #i have had to fight off TOO many intrepid discoursers with a pointy stick to deal with unsauced claims currently #askin hours #anon #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG also i have been drinking quite a bit at this point hopefully this is all coherent lol

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jazeswhbhaven · 16 days

Text

Maybe I want Him to Bite...(Lucifer Selfie Card Prologue React II) *Spoilers*

BEFORE YOU PROCEED, make sure you caught the first part ->

If you already checked that out then you're good to go~

We're back with part 2 everyone!!! Let's gooooo

So we left off on Gamigin being excited about Phenomenon, and even stated that Jjok was getting ready for his arrival too

But a little before that I wanted to point out that Buer was so happy that Lucifer likes his tea where he was saying to himself that he has to remember the recipe so he can make it the same way next time.

I love this because I'm sure Lucifer likes to see his nobles happily doing something for him, it kinda reminds him a bit of his brothers in heaven though a painful memory....(SAD I AM SAD)

BUT LOOK!!! Seeing his face plus the blossoming trees warms my spirit he is truly a wholesome chubby little thing and I want the best for him

So Gamigin is rambling this entire time to the 3 nobles and he's like LUCIFER SHOULD ENTER :D And all of them are like "yeah sure he would win" because they're slightly annoyed with Gamigin being so energetic lol

I love that this is gag of their relationship. Gamigin is the annoying little brother that won't stfu and seems to run on 24/7 sugar highs

At the same time Gamigin asks Lucifer if he wants to enter, and for a few slides of the story it's literally Lucifer fucking sipping and drinking his tea in silence which killed me

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

because that's all he's doing is drinking his fucking tea like what a damn mood

All he did was do that and no one complained about his lack of enthusiasm and honestly? Same. Just let me have my damn tea.

He then just says one word. "Why" and everyone is creaming themselves.

I mean? I get it. Lucifer probably doesn't speak much at all, a true man of silence. And I thought Satan was a person of few words.

Gamigin though explains to Luci he feels he should enter and flaunt how beautiful he is to Hell. To which Marbas is like basically calling him annoying for being so loud lol

And even though he's being scolded by all three of them, he's not even phased and keeps doing what he's doing lol

He brings up that Luci needs to meet Ra-On, and Morax agrees that since Luci thinks they're the key to ending the war, it would need to happen sooner than later.

Marbas though brings up that MC is always seemingly afraid of Luci so he's not sure if it's a good idea. Buer though counters that it's Gaimigin's theory that overtime meeting someone over and over changes things.

So it appears all of them are on different wavelengths based on what they think is comfortable for Lucifer.

But I mean...can't ya simply.... a s k?

So here's where we get some backstory on how the nobles are more perceptive of Lucifer's feelings and habits based on his actions. Even though it's been a good minute since he switched teams, old habits die hard.

In Luci's case...it's pretty much impossible to get rid of. He's still stuck in those angel ways of his and honestly I love him more for that. He's spent what? Eons being an angel? You can't just forget that within just a couple centuries. He'd probably still be the same way even the next 500 years lol

So Luci's forever beef with Solomon runs deep alllll the way to MC

(sorry lol but damn, that means if you're self-inserting and a Luci stan...he doesn't like you because of ya punk ass grandaddy ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Morax is a cheerleader and I love that about him. He just wants the best for everyone. I want to give him head smooches.

Buer does ask though what this all has to do with MC in the first place, and Gamigin explains that showing Lucifer's beauty to them would be best and would possibly tempt them and successfully bridge the gap between the two AND give Luci a chance to win the contest at the same time.

While they're all talking amongst themselves and listening to Gami's reasoning, Luci starts to reminisce...

IM SO SAD..

He even says "The voices are here again" meaning he's truly trying to block out his brother's voice...his main ride-or-die sibling Michael. And that's just...so angsty. But his nobles remind him of these moments and he just silently fights through the memories.

I want to hug him if allowed.

So when he gets out of his daze, he agrees that he should participate if Gamigin says so. (lol that's his fave "brother" now)

Gami is happy, but Morax brings up an important element.

You gotta be beautiful AND most obscene. Like levels of heathen shit. Real hot girl shit.

And poor Gamigin is like "Mess Lucifer up? WHY (｡•́︿•̀｡)"

And the other three healers are just like "Oh sweet summer child..."

Because you know, Gami is a dragon lol he knows nothing about this they probably didn't do anything like this back in his homeworld

So the three start going over what everyone's level of obscene is. Starting with this wild ass thing

I'm right there with you Gami.

Now...not to yuck anyone's yum...but come the fuck on vomit??? I'm shivering just thinking about being NEAR vomit lol

did someone in avisos do that...i feel that's an avisos thing

Also Gamigin points out how does Buer's eyes glint while they're shut and I'm wondering the same damn thing like how does that even look. Buer you are an enigma.

HOE STORIES???? OLD COWORKER OOOO SPILL THE TEA WHO IS IT BUER??!?!?!?

MARBAS???? YOU TOO??? But tbh...I believe he's originally from Abaddon so that wouldn't be farfetched...

SO THE DEVILS OUT HERE SHARIN' HOE STORIES THEN OKAY

Just a regular ol' day where you're coworker is like "So btw I have some freak ass nasty sex so good I thought I'd need a exorcism" or something like that lmaoooo

THEN WE FIND OUT WHO WAS SHARING THE STORIES

VALEFOR??????? MY HUBBY????

g a w d I wanna swallow his dick so badly why is he out here being so shameless? The best? Ooooo I'll show my appreciation for saying it was the best he's had.

LERAYEEEEEE??????

I've been sleeping on him apparently because not him saying it was the best. Phew.

I'M SCREAMING... SITRI???????

PFTTTTT MARBAS JUST RANDOMLY HAS SITRI'S NUMBER WITHOUT EVEN ASKING FOR IT PROPERLY HOW DID HE HEAR THIS INFO THEN???

Nah Marbas, why you change the subject after saying you don't remember how you got this info from Sitri? Lmao omg

But yeah, the most obscene sex is from our little MC (which...I mean I feel there are some biases...B U T lol I'd like to think they'd say me too if it were I being bragged about)

Poor Gami is still hung up on the vomit scenario and I'm laughing about that. He just like me foreal.

He does suggest though that they just ask MC to come and "mess up Lucifer"

While Buer and Morax agree with Gami, Marbas scolds him again out of habit instead of praising him 💀

Meanwhile Lucifer is trying to gather himself and be prepared for MC to show up. Which is also a mood because it's like "Damn I really gotta be social today?"

Lucifer is also me when I just wanna sit here and be a recluse lmao.

So we're back from the flashback, and in Luci's private room which looks pretty swank. I'm pretty sure that's a wet bar in the background or a potion bar or something of the sort. (does he even play chess? lmao)

Gamigin asks MC to help Luci win the contest and well, they find him difficult to understand and get along with. That it was hard to look him in the eyes even with the 3 second rule and the devil who most understands that is....

Our boi Beelzebooo <3 (hey bae it's a cameo)

So he explains why it's really hard to be comfortable around Lucifer and it's due to his overpowering angelic aura despite becoming a devil and it bothers him quite a lot.

MC even asks him to confirm and he kinda stares at MC and ruffles their hair.

which means yes he's bothered he's just not gonna admit it.

And with that MC is like ALRIGHT LETS DO IT I SAID I WOULD...and...

.......why are they clumsy like my ass? LMAO

Whelp...let's go on over to part 3 and see what became of MC~

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb lucifer #whb paradise lost bois 🤍#whb gamigin #whb spoilers #whb selfie cards #L card spoilers #lmao mc already fucking up

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neuroprincess · 2 months

Text

His Favorite Person - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Summary: The moms are going through a difficult time with LuLu's first teeth and a hero comes to the rescue.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Well, some realistic motherhood, it's not all flowers. Also, FRIENDSHIP GOALS

Word count: +2100

Unrevised

Six months went by in the blink of an eye and with it many challenges of first-time motherhood, the moms could barely breathe properly until the month mark, Luca is very smart and, despite his strong personality, didn't give as much trouble as expected. The redhead is in love with those squeezable cheeks and chubby little doll hands, the loud giggles are the highlight of her days, as well as Y/N's. But the relief and sense of stability has gone as quickly as it arrived, one day the baby is all smiles trying pasta, the next so fussy that getting him to eat becomes a mission impossible. So a week goes by that they would describe as hellish, not only because of the problems with feeding and the understandable irritability due to teething, but also because of the suffering shared with all the pain the boy is going through with the new phase, gums tearing and keeping him awake all night mumbling and feverish, causing general concern. On Friday, they're not sure whether or not to host the weekly couples' dinner; before it can be cancelled, Barb and her husband appear at the door with a pan in hand, worried looks on their faces followed by muffled laughter. At work, Melissa had already been seen with bite marks and obvious signs of not sleeping, the woman just didn't imagine it would be chaotic to the point of leaving her, literally, dishevelled.

"Where's my handsome little boy?" she greets LuLu excitedly and reaches out to take him from the younger's tired arms "What happened to make you cry, my dear?" and wipes the tears drying on his rosy little face, immediately noticing the high temperature "Poor thing..."

"Sorry about our condition, I was going to call you to cancel, but we were trying to get the fever down and completely forgot." the teacher whispers, staring at the scene in amazement, the moment her son clings to the friend he stops crying immediately, doesn't seem to be the same little monster who defeated her in exhaustion minutes before "What a sly one! Do you see that?!" she points out indignantly.

"Well, it's not my fault I'm the favorite." Barbara jokes and walks past them into the house, unsurprised to see a dozen toys scattered around the living room, the kitchen a complete mess, dirty dishes in the sink, open packets and cubes of frozen fruit on the counter, a doctor's recommendation for relief "Kid, was that all you?!"

"He's a Schemmenti." Gerald jokes, following along, leaving the pie on the nearest surface "How many hours did you sleep today?"

"Maybe three... or four." the timetables jumble in Y/N's head, she can't remember what time they went to sleep or how many times she woke up in the middle of the night.

"And it's been the longest night's sleep so far," adds the other, rubbing her eyes.

"You're clearly not well, why don't you try having a decent bath and getting some sleep while we take care of everything?" he offers, starting to gather up teddy bears and small cars on the carpet.

Surprised and grateful, the couple exchange glances at this generous offer; the idea of being able to take a bath for more than five minutes, plus a little rest, is tempting, but they are reluctant to let them deal with it instead.

"Go on, get some rest!" the man insists, shooing them away with a hand wave "We'll take care of everything."

"Are you sure?" Melissa asks with concern, it seems like a lot to do or maybe she's mentally overloaded to the point where doesn't want someone else to do something she considers an exclusive responsibility "I mean..."

"Don't be stubborn." Barb interrupts her and goes into the kitchen, putting Luca in the highchair, he doesn't even grumble about not being on lap "Take advantage of our presence until he gets sick of us, this phase is terrible."

The redhead raises her hands in surrender and Y/N exhales satisfied, tired to the bone, nursing a baby full time takes a lot of time, energy and attention, she can hardly imagine the state of her wife who works all day at school and still tries to give the same support as best she can.

Looking at Luca, who is calmly sitting down and taking the previously rejected piece of fruit into mouth, Melissa finally gives in.

"All right, but please call us if anything happens."

Everything goes very quickly and on autopilot. Before they realise it, the pair find themselves under the shower's hot water, washing each other's hair and sharing non-sexual cuddles, satisfying their longing for quality time together. Motherhood is deep, rewarding and valuable for both, a priority that has guided the small family's decisions and routine, little by little intimacy has been put aside amid the daily demands. They don't blame anyone or anything but the circumstances, they've read that it could happen at a certain point, all the nuances it would bring and they haven't forgotten their promise to stay together, to say "I love you", all the possible clichés to get through the storm without shaking marriage.

The teacher couldn't hold back a moan on entering the room, every muscle relaxed and the tension drained away, there was a calming sensation, she felt refreshed from the tip of the toe to the last strand of hair. Y/N can say the same, she never thought that a simple shower could feel like a full SPA, even with a massage, she barely lays down on the bed properly and already feels soft hands rubbing damp skin. There are soft smiles, some mischievous, strong fingers squeezing sensitive spots that manage to elicit the happiest sighs, occasionally there are teasing touches and loving bites.

"Years of relationship and still doves in love." they are surprised by Barbara's sudden appearance, they didn't hear her push the door slightly open "I've brought dinner and some tea."

She lifts the tray with caprese chicken sandwiches, pieces of pie, red fruit and camomile tea, would offer whisky if it wasn't for breastfeeding, she knows they deserve it when they go through the chaotic teething process, the girls were relatively calm and yet almost destroyed the house when they got their first set of tiny sharp teeth.

"Get fed and try to rest for a few hours." she put it between the couple "Let's do the same with the little one, he's already struggling to keep eyes open. You deserve a decent night's sleep."

"So true, I look like a different person now, imagine when I finally get some sleep." the redhead jokes before taking a generous bite of bread, her last meal having been lunch "Delicious!"

"Did LuLu give you and Gerald much trouble?" the younger smiles fearfully and sips the hot liquid "No crying, no grumbling, no breaking things, maybe we're in a dream."

"No, he was a little angel... except with Gerard when he tried to give him a piece of cut mango, I'm pretty sure he was trying not to bite him." she confesses the last part in a whisper, they laugh well aware of the implication "He's jealousy incarnate."

Melissa tosses her hair to side, her expression proud, needless to say he inherited it from her and everyone knows it.

"Mel once threatened to bite someone." she adds, explaining her friend.

"And I did." she says even more proudly, the person deserved it.

"Unbelievable!"

After all, Y/N still finds herself amazed by her adventures and oddities, she knows half of the stories from others, as the woman hardly ever brags about her achievements. Conversation doesn't last long, minutes later Gerald appears too, Luca agitated in his arms and ready to attack anyone who annoys him, just push at the edge a little. The youngest mother mentions getting up to intervene, only to be stopped by a sign from Barb, who picks him up without a second thought.

"No, you need a bit of time to yourselves." she reinforces and sets the boy on his feet, kissing the cheeks, leaving a lot of lipstick marks "Today we're going to give them a break, aren't we, cutie?!"

As if he knew what the topic was, he tries to answer in babbles, all the adults smile at such cuteness. Within seconds he is no longer irritated, an effect that only the one and only Barbara Howard has. She strokes the coppery hair, making him close the eyes immediately, an adorable giggle as he snuggles into her chest, little legs wiggling with joy.

"I'm starting to be offended by this more than obvious preference."

"I never tire of saying it, it's not my fault that I'm his favorite person." she shrugs and stands up, stroking the baby's back over the newly laid pyjamas, she inhales the sweet smell, delighting at the contact, her daughters are grown up now and the times when she could lovingly hold them all the time without protest are gone "LuLu and I will see you tomorrow."

She bends him over so that the mums can kiss him goodbye, but by this point Luca is already unconscious, losing the long and stubborn battle against sleep.

"Sorry, I'm going to have to say it, I LOVE YOU BARB!" Y/N sighs in pleasure and gives a grateful kiss, then throws herself against the mattress, clinging to the soft blankets "Nothing can convince me that it's not a dream."

"She needed it too, badly." Melissa reflects and moves closer to the friend, stroking her son's face affectionately "I really appreciate and am very grateful for what you're doing for us, being a mother has been intense and unexpected, we're lucky to have a support like you and Gerald, it's something I never expected in my life. The only reason I'm probably not crying right now is because tiredness overcomes even the tears." she jokes, wrapping her in a tight hug between loving smiles.

"There's nothing to be thankful for, I love our little prince and that's what friends do."

The door closes, Howard takes him to the nursery and they wait for a cry or any negative reaction, but the only noises to be heard are footsteps echoing down the corridor and the man humming while doing the housework. They smirk, silence has never been more appreciated than at this moment. The teacher lies down next to her wife, hands running along her robe-covered waist, fingertips brushing exposed skin, mouth meeting the back of neck, leaving a lingering kiss, the younger laughs, turning so that they are face to face, then leans in to bring their lips together.

"I think we should kidnap Barb." Y/N proposes with a grain of truth.

"We need to do that, cara mia! I'll take her down and you tie her up, deal?"

"Deal! But what about Gerald?" she jokes.

"He can survive without her, we can't."

"I can't believe we're going to sleep properly, I'm so excited that sleep has fled." she confesses eventually, feeling a new wave of energy coming from nowhere "It's so strange not having anything to do."

"That's because you're overwhelmed, principessa." Melissa props herself up on elbows so that she's partially seated, the hand that rests on the waist wanders down her curvaceous body and stops at the face she loves so much to see when waking up, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear "But we have this evening to ourselves. God, they're being real heroes today."

"Yes! I swear that when she took LuLu in the arms I saw her in costume and cape for a millisecond."

"And he simply stopped crying, it's like she has superpowers."

"Or she's just his favorite person... in the whole world." Y/N leans over and kisses her, a consolation prize for what she's going to say next "I'm sorry, darling, but that's the truth. You've lost your place to Barb."

"At least I'm still your favorite?" the redhead makes those abandoned puppy dog eyes, feigning sadness.

"Always, hottest biter in the world."

The lights are switched off, they move closer in the soothing darkness and cuddle affectionately, wrapped in the comfort of being in the arms of the one they love. Sleep gradually comes, accompanied by the previous worries about Luca, if he's managed to eat properly, if he's hydrated enough, or if he's lain down in the right position.

"I can hear your thoughts, Mel."

"I'm sorry, amore mio." she whispers, a little thoughtfully. Despite her religious upbringing, she's not a fan of most traditions, so baptism hasn't crossed her mind until now, as she watches her best friend and confidant win over her son with her mere presence, creating a beautiful bond "What do you think about inviting Barb to be LuLu's godmother?"

"Perfect! We couldn't find anyone better than her."

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @wastdstime @scarr0713 @geekyandgay98 @dvrkhcld @heidss @esposadejoyhuerta @xvyzxx @quailbagutte @imaginesmultifandoms @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34 @prentiss-theorem @josephinevr @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @serendipitouswanderer @louderfortheback @h-doodles @Hotdoggitydammit @peggy082023 @le0vo1dz @lilfartbox1 @imgayforwoman69 @janeyseymour @hwppnes @storiesofsvu @zacs-obsessed @evilaam @evattude

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#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #female reader #abbot elementary #fluff #schemmenti family

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lilchibi-chan · 1 year

Text

cuddles w channie

With work and school, life was becoming overwhelming. Too much to bare in some moments.

Some days, you felt like you were just floating above your own body and watching the world as it moved around you. Bodies just merging and moving together.

You felt yourself burning out and not knowing how to fix it or make it better.

You tried distracting yourself by hanging out with friends or doing your favorite hobbies, but your focus for even doing those things became less and less.

Tonight, you’re working on some homework when you get a FaceTime call from Chan.

You pick up and he’s smiling his beautiful smile

“Hi,” he says, his big smile flashing at you

“Hey,” you say, sending a smile back his way

“Whatcha dooooin,” he asks causing a small giggle to escape you

“Just trying to get some work done..and sadly failing,” you say, then look down at the keyboard of your computer

“You okay,” he asks while adjusting his posture

“Yeah, it’s just been a bit of an overwhelming time,” you say, your voice getting shaky

“It’s been so hard to focus and I really don’t wanna fail my classes. I don’t want to let my parents down. I don’t want to let myself down, but I’ve been trying so hard to balance everything and fix it and nothing is working. I just…I just don’t know what to do anymore,” you say, tears slowly fall from your eyes

“Hey, it’s okay to feel this way. To feel overwhelmed. To start to feel burnt out. It’s just your body’s way of telling you to take a step back. We all have deadlines and work and all these other things that can take over our lives and ya know even I can feel overwhelmed and I still try and push through it but it can also effect your health really badly. Your health should come first,” he says

“I know…it’s just hard,” you say, wiping tears from your face

“Ya know what, I’m coming over,” he said

“Wh-Chan you really don’t have to, it’s fine…I’ll be okay,” you say, knowing he’s probably tired

“Y/N, I’m fine. I’m coming over and you’re gonna take a break,” he says and hangs up

You look at the computer screen for a moment and let out a small laugh. You go back to doing homework and research until he arrives.

About half an hour later, your door bell rings, removing you from your trance the computer screen has you in.

You unlock the door and Chan has bags of snacks, food and drinks.

“What’s all this,” you ask surprised

“I told you when I got here that you would be taking a break, so I bought all your favorite things,” he says walking into your house and taking off his shoes

You smile and thank him for the stuff. You take everything into the kitchen and put some things away and keep some stuff out.

“So what’s the plan, Chan”

He laughs a little at the rhyming you did with his name.

“Well,” he says placing his hands on the kitchen counter,“we are gonna watch your favorite movies and you have all your favorite snacks here to help you relax.”

You smile and grab the bag of snacks.

“Woah woah woah, where are you taking that,” he says, stopping you in your tracks

“My…room,” you say, slightly confused

“No no, no more bedroom. You have too much going on in there and I don’t want you to be tempted to go back to work,” he says walking closer to you, eventually closing the space

Your breath quickens a bit with him being so close to you.

He takes the bag from your hand and takes it to the living room.

He then takes you by the shoulders and guides you to sit on the couch.

“Don’t move,” he says

“Okay,” you laugh out

A couple minutes later, he returns with blankets and pillows and a huge, warm smile.

You get up to help him set up everything on the couch, the he sets up the table and tv. He pulls out your favorite movies from the tv stand and you decide which one to watch first. He pops the dvd in and joins you on the couch.

He gets comfortable and then holds his arms out.

You look at him and scoot closer to cuddle with him. He closes his arms around you and it feels like what you’ve been needing all along. You felt safe. You felt seen.

He rubbed your arm, up and down, then eventually moved to rubbing small circles on your temple and the side of your head.

The combination of this, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rise and fall was starting to make you feel sleepy.

You snuggle deeper into him and he holds you a bit tighter, further comforting as you adjust. You close your eyes and drift off to sleep without realizing.

Chan kisses the top of your head and rubs small circles where his lips previously were. He waits for you to be fully asleep before turning of the tv, trying not to disturb you too much and joins you in sleeping, still holding you close.

Hope you all enjoyed this and I hope it lifts your spirits if you’ve been feeling a bit down.

CHANNIE IF YOU SEE THIS, NO YOU DIDN’T!!! I KNOW YOU SEE EVERYTHING BUT YOU DID NOT SEE THIS!!! (this is a joke btw, I don’t think he’ll see this ever)

#stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz #skz headcanons #skz fluff #skz imagines #bang chan #bang chan headcanons #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #channie #christopher bang #christopher bahng #stray kids stay #skz stay

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thesiltverses · 7 months

Note

I don’t know who types up the ask answers on this blog but to whoever’s reading this: how do you all feel about being alive and sentient? What keeps you going, what purpose propels you through this chaotic void? What do you think (or hope) waits for you after your inevitable end? What do you think constitutes a life well lived?

I'm going to answer this in the most wayward and stupidly overlong manner possible, because the previous ask had me thinking about puppets, and I was already mid-way through writing up a book recommendation that's semi-relevant to your questions.

Everyone (but especially people who've enjoyed The Silt Verses and all the folks on Tumblr who loved Piranesi by Susanna Clarke) ought to seek out Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban.

Riddley Walker is a wild and woolly story set in post-apocalyptic Kent, where human society has (d)evolved into a Bronze Age collective of hunter-gatherer settlements. Dogs, apparently blaming us for our crimes against the world, have become our predators, hunting us through the trees. Labourers kill themselves unearthing ancient machinery that they cannot possibly understand.

A travelling crowd of thugs led by a Pry Mincer collect taxes and attempt to impose themselves upon those around them with a puppet-show - the closest possible approximation of a TV show - that tells a mangled story of the world's destruction, featuring a Prometheus-esque hero called Eusa who is tempted by the Clevver One into creating the atomic bomb.

Riddley himself, a twelve-year-old folk hero in-the-making surrounded by strange portents, ends up sowing the seeds of rebellion and change by becoming a conduit for the anti-tutelary anarchic madness (one apparently buried in our collective unconscious) of Punch 'n' Judy.

It's a book in love with twisted reinterpretation, the subjectivity of interpretation, buried or forbidden truths coming back to light (the opening quote is a curious allegory about reinvention and cyclical change from the extra-canonical Gospel of Thomas, which is a good joke and mission statement on a couple levels at once) and human beings somehow stumbling into forms of wisdom or insight through clumsy and nonsensical attempts to make sense of a world that is simply beyond them.

It rocks.

The book starts like this:

On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen. He dint make the groun shake nor nothing like that when he come on to my spear he wernt all that big plus he lookit poorly. He done the reqwyrt he ternt and stood and clattert his teef and made his rush and there we wer then. Him on 1 end of the spear kicking his life out and me on the other end watching him dy. I said, 'Your tern now my tern later.'

Riddley's devolved language - a trick which has been nicked/homaged by many other works, most notably Cloud Atlas and Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome - is a masterwork choice which may seem offputting or overwhelming at first, but which has its own brutal poetry and cadence to it, and ultimately which makes us slow down as readers and unpick the wit, puns, double-meanings and playful themes buried in line after line.

(Even those first five sentences get us thinking about cyclical change, ritual and myth in opposition to the dissatisfactions of reality, and 'tern' to paradoxically indicate a rebellious change in direction but also an obedient acceptance of inevitable death.)

In one of my favourite passages in literature and a statement of thought that means a lot to me, Riddley has been smoking post-coital weed with Lorna, a 'tel-woman', who unexpectedly declares her belief in a kind of irrational, monstrous Logos that lives in us, wears us like clothes, and drives us onwards for its own purpose:

'You know Riddley theres some thing in us it dont have no name.' I said, 'What thing is that?' She said, 'Its some kynd of thing it aint us but yet its in us. Its lookin out thru our eye hoals...it aint you nor it dont even know your name. Its in us lorn and loan and shelterin how it can.' 'Tremmering it is and feart. It puts us on like we put on our cloes. Some times we dont fit. Some times it cant fynd the arm hoals and it tears us a part. I dont think I took all that much noatis of it when I ben yung. Now Im old I noatise it mor. It dont realy like to put me on no mor. Every morning I can feal how its tiret of me and readying to throw me a way. Iwl tel you some thing Riddley and keap this in memberment. What ever it is we dont come naturel to it.' I said, 'Lorna I dont know what you mean.' She said, 'We aint a naturel part of it. We dint begin when it begun we dint begin where it begun. It ben here befor us nor I dont know what we are to it. May be weare jus only sickness and a feaver to it or boyls on the arse of it I dont know. Now lissen what Im going to tel you Riddley. It thinks us but it dont think like us. It dont think the way we think. Plus like I said befor its afeart.' I said, 'Whats it afeart of?' She said, 'Its afeart of being beartht.'

While Hoban is, I think, deeply humanistic to his bones and even something of a wayward optimist, the notion of human beings as helpless and ignorant vessels, individual carriers - puppets, if you like - for an unknowable and awful inhuman power-in-potentia and life-drive that lacks a true shape or intent beyond its own continued survival (even when that means destroying us or visiting us with agonising atrophy in the process) conjures up the pessimism of Thomas Ligotti, another big influence on our work and a dude who was really into his marionettes-as-metaphor.

Let's go to him now for his opinion on the thing that lives beneath our skin. Thomas?

Through the prophylactic of self-deception, we keep hidden what we do not want to let into our heads, as if we will betray to ourselves a secret too terrible to know… …(that the universe is) a play with no plot and no players that were anything more than portions of a master drive of purposeless self-mutilation. Everything tears away at everything else forever. Nothing knows of its embroilment in a festival of massacres… Nothing can know what is going on.

Curiously, both Ligotti and Riddley Walker have appeared in the music of dark folk band Current 93, whose track In The Heart Of The Wood And What I Found There directly homages the novel and ends with the repeated words,

"All shall be well," she said But not for me

These words, in turn, hearken back to Kafka's* famous reported conversation with Max Brod:

'We are,' he said, 'nihilistic thoughts, suicidal thoughts that rise in God's head.' This reminded me of the worldview of the gnostic: God as an evil demiurge, the world as his original sin. 'Oh no', he said, 'our world is only a bad, fretful whim of God, a bad day.' 'So was there - outside of this world that we know - hope?' He smiled: 'Oh, hope - there is plenty. Infinite hope, just not for us."

So, we walk on.

We carry this thing that's riding on our backs, endlessly bonded to it, feeling its weight more and more with every passing day, unable to turn to look at it. Buried truths come briefly to life, and are hidden from us again. Perhaps they weren't truths at all. We couldn't stand to look the truth directly in the eyes in any case.

If there is hope, it's for the thing that looks out from our eyeholes, which thinks us but cannot think like us. We'll never get to where we're going, and the thing will never be born. There's no hope for it. Perhaps we don't want it to win anyway. It's nothing, and the key to everything.

The Jesus from the Gospel of Thomas says:

'When you see your own likeness, you rejoice. But when you see the visions that formed you and existed before you, which do not perish and which do not become visible - how much then will you be able to bear?'

Kafka, writing to his father, begins by expressing the inexpressibility of his own divine terror:

You asked me why I am afraid of you. I did not know how to answer - partly because of my fear, partly because an explanation would require more than I could make coherent in speech…even in writing, the magnitude of the causes exceeds my memory and my understanding.

Kafka concludes that while he cannot ever truly explain himself, and that the accusations in his letter are neat subjectivities that fail to account for the messiness of reality, perhaps 'something that in my opinion so closely resembles the truth…might comfort us both a little and make it easier for us to live and die.'**

It doesn't bring comfort to Kafka, whose diarised remarks both before and after the 1919 letter make it clear that he views his relationship with the things (people) that birthed him as an endless entrapment that prevents him from attaining any kind of self-actualisation or even comfort, since he cannot escape their influence or remember a time before them:

I was defeated by Father as a small boy and have been prevented since by pride from leaving the battleground, despite enduring defeat over and over again.

It's as if I wasn't fully born yet...as if I was dissolubly bound to these repulsive things (my parents).*** The bond is still attached to my feet, preventing them from walking, from escaping the original formless mush. That's how it is sometimes.

Samuel Beckett returns again and again (aptly) to this pursuit of a state of true humanity and final understanding that is at once fled and unrecoverable, yet to be born, never to be born, never-existed, endlessly to be pursued, pointless to pursue. From the astonishing end sequence of The Unnameable:

alone alone, the others are gone, they have been stilled, their voices stilled, their listening stilled, one by one, at each new-com- ing, another will come, I won’t be the last. I’ll be with the others. I’ll be as gone, in the silence, it won’t be I, it’s not I, I’m not there yet. I’ll go there now. I’ll try and go there now, no use trying, I wait for my turn, my turn to go there, my turn to talk there, my turn to listen there, my turn to wait there for my turn to go, to be as gone, it’s unending, it will be unending, gone where,where do you go from there, you must go somewhere else, wait somewhere else, for your turn to go again

I’m not the first, I won’t be the first, it will best me in the end, it has bested better than me, it will tell me what to do, in order to rise, move, act like a body endowed with despair, that’s how I reason, that’s how I hear myself reasoning, all lies, it’s not me they’re calling, not me they’re talking about, it’s not yet my turn, it’s someone else’s turn, that’s why I can’t stir, that’s why I don’t feel a body on me, I’m not suffering enough yet, it’s not yet my turn, not suffering enough to be able to stir, to have a body, complete with head, to be able to understand, to have eyes to light the way

From Thomas' Jesus:

When you make the two one, and you make the inside as the outside and the outside as the inside and the above as the below, and if male and female become a single unity which lacks 'masculine' and 'feminine' action, when you grow eyes where eyes should be and hands where hands should be and feet where feet should stand and the true image in its proper place, then shall you enter heaven.

Tom's Jesus makes a particularly Gnostic habit of both insisting that the hidden will be revealed and demonstrating the impossibility of attaining a state where the hidden ever can be revealed. Contrary to C.S. Lewis, we will never have faces with which to gaze upon the lost divine and the mysteries that shaped us, and crucially, as Christ puts it, we would not be able to bear the sight of ourselves if we did.

We will never become the thing that's riding on our backs.

Jesus again:

The disciples ask Jesus, 'Tell us how our end shall be.' Jesus says, 'Have you found the beginning yet, you who ask after the end? For at the place where the beginning is, there shall be the end.'

The Unnameable:

I’ll recognise it, in the end I’ll recognise it, the story of the silence that he never left, that I should never have left, that I may never find again, that I may find again, then it will be he, it will be I, it will be the place, the silence, the end, the beginning, the beginning again, how can I say it, that’s all words, they’re all I have, and not many of them, the words fail, the voice fails, so be it

The final passage of The Unnameable, which often is hilariously shorn and misinterpreted as an inspirational quote about how if you don't succeed, try again:

all words, there’s nothing else, you must go on, that’s all I know, they’re going to stop, I know that well, I can feel it, they’re going to abandon me, it will be the silence, for a moment, a good few moments, or it will be mine, the lasting one, that didn’t last, that still lasts, it will be I, you must go on, I can't go on, you must go on. I’ll go on, you must say words, as long as there are any, until they find me, until they say me, strange pain, strange sin, you must go on, perhaps it’s done already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don’t know. I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on. I’ll go on. †

We bear this thing that's riding on our backs. We'll never get to where we're going, and the thing will never be born. If it was born, it'd be too terrible for us to bear. There's nothing riding on our backs.

It will never speak us into being.

We keep on calling out into the silence, we keep trying to explain or understand the thing that's riding on our backs, searching for a way to birth it before we die. Our words about the thing are crucial, and they're meaningless, and they're all we have, and they're nothing at all. We cannot name it and we cannot express it, but we cannot stop trying, and we will keep turning back to our words about the thing, obsessing over them, tearing them to pieces, putting them back together.

I'm fumbling at something I can't think or say, but fumbling is all we're capable of. There could be beauty and meaning and comfort in the fumbling, but it's also vain, and foolish, and pointless, and we're lying to ourselves about the beauty and the meaning and the comfort, and we're indulging ourselves pointlessly by going on and on about the pointlessness of it. Nothing can know what's going on. We will never get close enough to understand without being destroyed.

Thomas' Jesus again, warning those who seek to reveal what's hidden:

He who is near me is near the fire.

Riddley Walker, reflecting on the Punch puppet's inexplicable desire to cook and eat his own child:

Whyis Punch crookit? Why wil he al ways kill the baby if he can? Parbly I wont ever know its jus on me to think on it.

If you got to the end of this, congratulations: but the above is honestly the most appropriate patchwork of what I believe, what propels me, what I feel.

As for what comes after life, I think it's fairly straightforwardly a nothingness we are tragically incapable of fully knowing or accepting - it's Beckett's unimaginable and unattainable silence, a silence that his characters' voices keep on shattering even as they cry out for it.

-Jon‡

*I can't remember if Kafka makes prominent reference to Czech puppets in his work, which is interesting in its own right given the thematic relevance (the protagonist in The Hunger Artist is perhaps a kind of self-directing puppet show?).

However, Gustav Meyrink - who some unsourced Google quotes suggest was pals with Czech puppeteer Richard Teschner - did write a strange little story, The Man On The Bottle, about an audience watching a 'marionette show' who are too wrapped up in performances and masks to interpret the reality that they're actually watching a human being suffocate to death.

**Thomas Ligotti: "Something had happened. They did not know what it was, but they did know it as that which should not be.

Something would have to be done if they were to live with that which should not be.

This would not (be enough); it would only be the best they could do."

***Beckett's Malone Dies actually kicks off with a related sentiment:" I am in my mother’s room. It’s I who live there now. I don’t know how I got there...In any case I have her room. I sleep in her bed. I piss and shit in her pot. I have taken her place. I must resemble her more and more."

† I don't necessarily align myself in humour with Ligotti on a lot of this stuff but I imagine he would recognise both Beckett's writing and Kafka's frustrations re explaining the causes of his hatred for his father as sublimation: finding artistic and philosophical ways of sketching the inexpressible horror and uncertainty of our existence in order to reckon with it at a remove without destroying ourselves. A higher form of self-deception, but self-deception nevertheless.

‡Muna's more of an anarcho-nihilist, I think.

#long fucking post just to say 'i don't know'

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 27 days

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WIBTA if I asked a friend to not talk about his show during a future movie marathon.

This is a simple thing I think- some backstory for this ask is that my friends and I have known each other for years now and are all in a discord server together. Which the server is how we met, and after so long we’re all super close.

About a year ago I decided to host a marathon. It’s a franchise I grew up with, and come to love as a child as it’s something I bonded with my brother and dad over. My brother grew out of it, and my dad lives too far for me to watch it with him. So! I thought I’d just host a marathon with friends.

We all thought it would be fun, including friend who I will call B. He was most ecstatic for a couple movies. And yeah! Fun times! And eventually it got time for the marathon which would last all month. At least half the films in the franchise we’d watch.

The first couple days were fun, but it eventually got to the point where B would pop in, then go “Oh it’s a nothing movie” and then leave. Which alright that’s fine! He didn’t have to watch every single film.

It kind of annoyed me a bit cause he would poke fun at us watching this one and not the ones he was excited for. But I was going chronological order, we got to the good stuff when we got to it.

And then B discovered a franchise, and got into it. He told me a bit about it and tbh it wasn’t my cup of tea. But I would listen to him about it.

Which is when he decided it would be fun to only watch this show whenever I was hosting the movie. Now I was annoyed, but I wasn’t really comfortable saying anything cause he was excited. But it would annoy me that he would wait specifically for me to start the movie to start watching the show and then commentating about all the cool stuff that was happening in it. And we wouldn’t stream it either, so we couldn’t even see what he was commentating on.

And it was almost every day save for four of them. As those four were the only “good” films of the franchise. Tbh I was tempted to try and host the movies in another server without him. But it would’ve been cruel to outright exclude him at the time.

We finished the marathon with half the movie franchise done, and B did talk to me about hosting his own marathon for his franchise. Which sure! Go ahead. I don’t think I would’ve joined at all at that point because tbh I was a bit peeved about it all. I did give him advise about times, and which channel to host it in.

He didn’t end up doing a marathon for some reason. Idk what the exact reason was anymore.

But to the point- we only finished half the movie franchise because it has been a long long franchise. And I decided to bring forward the idea of hosting the last half of it, sometime in June when everyone would be home for the summer. A lot of the friends are already excited about the idea.

Which is when B chimes in that he can finish the rest of his series. And I had to take a moment to myself. I am happy he’s found a franchise he likes. I am. But why wait to watch/share it while the group is watching/enjoying something completely different?

And it’s not an all day event either, it’s just an hour-to-two hours. As it’s just one movie a day. Surely he could find time to watch and commentate it a different time?? Or even host it a different month, it doesn’t have to be the same exact time.

Idk I feel like a complete dick even thinking of asking him, cause I’ve been there where I desperately wanted to talk about a franchise, but during another movie?? One that isn’t even remotely similar?

So WIBTA if I asked B to watch his series another time? When there isn’t a movie currently being hosted.

tldr: Hosted a movie marathon month, everyday playing one movie from the franchise. Friend decides to watch a completely different franchise during most of the marathon. While planning for another marathon, he has already declared he will be doing the same again. WIBTA for asking him to just watch the other one a different time.

🐊🐋🐲⚡️ just so I can find it later

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

Note

Can you do a JJ one where they use like whipped cream or chocolate syrup or something? Because ohhh mah lawwdd that would be hot. 🥵

Kiss The Cook

Warnings: none, just fluffy smut

It was your three year anniversary with your boyfriend. You dreaded the day because it came with a lot of unspoken expectations. You both still had to work so you agreed to celebrate that night. Most likely with dinner and lots of sex. JJ Maybank was a romantic at heart but he was still a man. He did most of his thinking with only one head.

Regardless of what day it was, you were still excited to get home and see your man. You wished you'd had the opportunity to shower and doll yourself up but he'd beat you home. Plus you knew he didn't care about those types of things. He wanted you no matter what you wore. Half your time at home was spent in comfy clothes with a messy bun. Tonight would be no different.

You enter your apartment, smelling the delicious scent of a seafood boil. Your favorite food. Your mouth practically watered as you slip your shoes off and set your purse down.

"Babe?" JJ calls from the kitchen.

"Yea! It's me!" You take a few steps towards the kitchen when he rounds the corner, making you laugh out loud at the sight of him in an apron that says kiss the cook.

"You're cooking?" You tease as he wraps his bare arms around you. Your hands find his bare back and you quickly release his nude aside from some black boxers that are covered in pink hearts.

"Hell yea, I'm cooking for my girl. You deserve it after three years of putting up with me. Now give me a kiss." JJ brings you in for a passionate kiss while you let your hands slide down his muscular back and squeeze both ass cheeks.

"Watch it," He warns, his erection starting to tent through the apron, "You don't get that part of your present yet."

"I get more than one present?" You giggle like a schoolgirl before he kisses you again, his own smile peaking through.

"You get lots of presents tonight. Most of them start with an O and end with my name but I know you won't complain." JJ nuzzles your neck, sending chills and fire through your body. You were on the verge of saying forget dinner when he pulled away, leading you to the kitchen. You gasp at the sight before you, glancing from the kitchen to the rest of your open floor planned apartment.

"You cleaned too?" Like you could be anymore turned on. The man was notorious for leaving clothes everywhere but the entire place was spotless. Even the kitchen despite the stock pot full of yummy food you could smell. The small two person table was covered with saran wrap with a couple of forks laid out like you'd seen done at the local seafood boil place you both loved to go to. They didn't give you plates or anything. They just dumped the contents of the boil on your table and you dug in like savages. Lit candles also decorated the various countertops around the kitchen and a dozen red roses were perched in a vase.

"I know, I know. I tend to overdo it." JJ kisses your cheek before moving to the stove. You didn't know whether to look at the romantic set up or his tight ass. Both were tempting.

"JJ Maybank, I think I want to have all your babies." You tease, sitting down at the table as you watch him. He sends you a flirty look before pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge and pouring you both a glass. JJ brings it over, clinking your glasses before you both take a drink.

"I want you to have all my babies." JJ winks at you before the night continues into a peaceful setting of your usual banter and good food. By the time you're done, your eyes are almost heavy from your food coma and you're both buzzed. JJ's face is beat red from laughing and the alcohol, your feet propped up on his knee as he massages your soles after cleaning up the table.

"I could go for something sweet." JJ murmurs, sitting your feet down and going to the fridge. He pulls out chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and a tub of ice cream.

You look away from him, the emotions making your eyes water as you take a second to appreciate what a good man you have. Sure, he's sometimes childish and he can't load a dishwasher and he leaves his clothes scattered through the apartment but he's good and he loves you.

"This is the real gift." JJ announces. You look up just as he sits a hefty bowl of ice cream in the middle of the table. It's piled high with scoops of ice cream and perfectly topped with chocolate and whipped cream. But something sparkly catches your eyes on top and you're almost convinced you're seeing things before it slowly comes into focus. You suck in a breath, your eyes widening as you look to him for confirmation.

"Okay, so maybe I should've thought that through a little better but," JJ plucks the object from the top of the dessert and licks the ice cream off it before dropping to one knee, holding it out to you.

"Y/F/N, you are the love of my life and I'm so thankful to have spent the last three years with you. You've been my best friend for over half my life and I'd like to spend the rest of it with you by my side, as my wife. I know I can't offer you much and I'll piss you off more often than not but you have my heart and I promise to always treasure yours. Please, marry me?" So much emotion washes over you that for a moment you can't do or say anything but stare at him. He cocks his head at you, slightly smirking before you snap out of it.

"Yes! Oh my god, yes!" You cry happily. JJ beams, sliding the ring onto your finger before you throw yourself into his arms. You don't realize you're crying until you pull away from his neck and he looks down at you with so much love and admiration, gently wiping your tears.

"I love you." JJ whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I love you, too." You breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hard kiss. JJ immediately scoops you up, turning to sit you on the counter as your kisses grow feverish. He shoves your thighs apart, rubbing his hard length against your crotch as he takes your hair down and fists the nape of it. You moan into his mouth, letting his tongue dominate your own as you grind back against him. You wanted him now more than ever. You were engaged. JJ Maybank was your fiance.

Your clothes end up on the floor along with the few articles of clothing he has on. You reach between your bodies, stroking him before guiding him to your entrance when he stops you, pulling away and shoving you down on your back. JJ snatches up the chocolate off the counter and immediately begins to pour it over your breasts and down your stomach to your mound.

"JJ!" You gasp, just as he picks up the whipped cream next and covers your pussy with the cold substance. Your body breaks out in goosebumps as you laugh, feeling his tongue find the trail he left on your stomach.

"I'm going to get sticky!" You giggle, laughing as he climbs on top of the counter and expertly licks the chocolate off your nipples. You moan, tugging at his hair as he licks and sucks you clean until your entire body is a trembling mess.

"That's the idea." JJ smirks, working his way back down your body and sliding to his feet after leaving you a panting mess. Your clit was throbbing, begging for the relief of his mouth.

"You're so goddamn sweet." JJ's voice is deeper now, the lust engulfing him as he licks a stripe up your slit, locking eyes with you as he coats his tongue in more whipped cream.

"JJ." You moan as he continues to lick and lick until you're squirming, your clit throbbing painfully. Suddenly, he buries his face in your pussy, eagerly consuming you as your back arches off the counter.

It was going to be a long, sticky night.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank

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roarriita · 1 year

Text

the chick from apartment 512 - ellie williams (2)

femreader!xelliewilliams!

part one, here

content warning: explicit language, mentions/use of drugs and cigarettes

// initial summary: although your new neighborhood was a bit shady and the apartment elevator made an eerie sound whenever it'd start up, it was all you could afford. move in day proved to be better than expected when you caught sight of your new neighbor. her auburn hair and green eyes seemed to be all the proof that you needed, to know that this new chapter of your life would be worth paying attention to and not just skimming over. //

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━━═━═━═━

an unguarded mind, leads to untainted thoughts.

it's been a week since you moved in across the hall and ellie hasn't been able to get you off her mind. your hair, your skin, your eyes, the way you spoke. it all swarmed her mind like bees to an open jar of honey.

cocky doesn't look good on pretty girls. a small smirk played on her lips as she recalled the snarky comment. ellie enjoyed making you nervous, but she enjoyed the way you bit back, even more.

the girl rose from her couch and went to the kitchen. she made some peanut butter toast and poured herself a glass of chocolate milk. whenever she'd get these kinds of thoughts about a girl, she'd try using food as a way to distract herself. usually, it worked, but in other cases, it failed, it failed miserably, kind of like how it was failing right now.

ellie grabbed her phone and thought about calling the girl she was currently ‘seeing’. she looked at the caller id as she bounced the idea around. right as she was about to click the 'call' button, she heard a clash of keys drop on the floor, followed with a long groan. ellie, wanting to know if that was your or not, walked over to her front door and opened it.

there, the chick from 512 was met with the sight of you in your dirty scrubs and your hair in a sloppy bun. your keys sat right in front of your smudged tennis shoes as you began to bang your forehead on your door in frustration. worried, ellie walked up to you. right as you were about to go for your 4th head bang, ellie placed her hand against the spot that you were abusing yourself with.

you slightly jumped back at the sudden skin to skin contact. "shit."

this was a new sight for ellie. she's only ever seen you three times since you moved in. the first time was when you made your snarky comment, the second time was when you were coming home from grocery shopping and the third was when you were getting in jesse's car. all those times you looked dolled up and clean, which never helped the consuming thoughts she had about you.

"are you okay?" the auburn-haired girl asked. you wanted to lie and say you were fine but the events that occurred at work today completely drained you. without even trying to look like you weren't on the brick of death, you simply shook your head. "what happened?"

your shaky hands went to brush some hair out of your face as you tried finding the words. ellie realized just how bad she had it for you when she still found you tempting in your filthy state.

"just another hellish day at work is all." you sighed.

"guessing from your attire, i'd say you were a nurse?" ellie questioned.

"bingo." you confirmed. "i love my job, i love it more than i love most things in life but sometimes it can get so overwhelming."

"i could only imagine." ellie sympathized. "where do you work?”

"saint martin memorial hospital." you answered.

"ouch." ellie winced. "i've been there a couple of times and it's always pure chaos in the e.r."

"ugh, i know." you groaned. "and that's where i got assigned today. my coworkers and i call it satan's lair of torment."

ellie chuckled. "well, i'm sorry you had to go through that." she then bent down to pick up your keys. "if it makes you feel better, i work at a warehouse," she came back up. "so the closes i've ever been to saving someone's life was smacking the new guys hand out of the balers opening."

you laughed, imagining the scenerio. "why would he put his hand in it?"

"when we were throwing away the discarded cardboard boxes, he accidentally flung his phone inside too." ellie said.

your hand flew over your mouth. "oh no, what happened to his phone."

"it go smashed into a thousand little pieces." ellie chuckled.

you started laughing again as everything was 10 times funnier to you when you were tired. ellie couldn't help the way her smile grew at the sound of your laughter. "that fucking sucks."

"yeah, but it was fine. my um- my dad, he owns the warehouse, so i was able to get him to compensate the dude for the phone." ellie shared.

"oh, how nice of you." you said with a hint of exaggeration.

"i try." ellie said, matching your tone of voice.

you chuckled as you took your hair out from its messy bun. "but that's so cool that you work in a warehouse. it explains why you're so toned." you quickly messaged your scalp as a way to loosen up your hair.

"you're not too bad yourself." ellie smirked.

you scoffed as you dropped your arms to your side. "don't ruin the moment by doing that."

"doing what?" ellie asked.

"acting all cocky and flirty." you pointed out.

"what're you talking about?" ellie continued to act clueless. "this is just me, it's who i am." ellie crossed her arms. her flexed upper arms caused you to swallow the lump in your throat.

"no, the ellie i was just joking with was you." you then gestured to her. "this is you trying to do- do, i don't even know what."

ellie looked at your name tag and then back at your stern face. "(y/n) (y/l/n). i like that. it rolls off the tongue nicely." she then took out a cigar from her pocket and lit it.

you tried to not let the fact that she disregarded everything you said, get to you. "well, i'm going to bed." you said as you tried unlocking your door.

"aw, come on, i was just teasing, (y/n)." ellie chuckled as she slightly turned her head to the side to blow the smoke out of her lungs. "here, take a drag. it'll help you with your stress." she held out the cigarette.

you pushed her hand away, causing a tingle of excitement to rush in between the two of you. "i don't smoke. it's bad for your lungs."

"like at all?" ellie questioned. "not even marijuana?"

you shook your head but then stopped. "well hold on, mj is different." ellie lightly laughed at how your demeanor changed when it came to the hallucinating herb. "mj is actually helpful when it comes to the whole anxiety thing."

"i can't argue with you there." ellie shrugged. she then noticed the bandage on your left hand. "what happened there?" she pointed to it.

your eyes trailed over the palm of your hand and you rolled your eyes, remembering the incident. "a 40 something year old man came into the e.r. with a knife, announcing to the entire room that he was the antichrist and that the end was near." you said. "he then flung the knife at one of my patients and i instinctively put up my hand up to block it."

ellie sat the cigarette between her lips as she began to clap. "and she gets even hotter." you scratched the back of your head, trying not to blush. she thinks i'm hot?

"what happened to the guy after?" ellie asked.

she honestly couldn’t give a fuck less about the guy's wellness. the auburn-haired girl could just tell how much tired you were growing by the second out here and knew you'd be wanting to go to bed soon.

"security tackled him and held him down until the cops arrived." you held back a yawn, causing your eyes to get watery.

ah shit, ellie began to feel bad for keeping you out here just so that she could spend more time listening to you talk. "are you free tomorrow night?"

"yeah?" you answered in a questioning tone. "why?"

"well, i'm sure you have more crazy nursing stories to share and i want nothing more than to spend monday night listening to all of them." ellie answered in the most non-chalant attitude.

"hmm..." you thought about it. "as friends?"

"definitely, yeah." ellie assured.

"okay, fine." you smiled. "my house at 6?"

"make it 5." her eyes sparkled as she took another drag from her cigar.

"alright then, tomorrow at 5." you said as you opened your door. "don't be late, goodnight.”

"goodnight.” ellie replied as she began to back away, and with one more exchange of smiles, you two went back inside your respective apartments.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━━═━═━═━

part three, here

// author’s note: i use to pump out chapters like everyday, what happened? oh yeah, work and writers block, ugh!! i wasn’t even planning on making this a multiple part series but you guys liked it so much that i couldn’t help but make it in to one (and plus, i really like the synopsis of this fanfic.) if this chapter felt a bit iffy, bear with me! i just really needed to write and publish something for the sake of getting past writers block. i hope you guys are having a great day and if not i am sending my best wishes! //

#ellie williams fanfic #tlou #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie williams au #elliexreader #ellie x fem!reamder #cocky ellie #ellie williams x reader

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heliads · 1 year

Note

Hiya! I sent a request earlier but i dont know if it sent in because i had bad wifi- so please ignore this if it sent in- (so sorry for the repeat) but i found your blog and you write the best luke Castellan fics ive ever read!! Could i request a Luke Castellan x Reader where reader is Percy’s older sibling? Like reader has been in the hermes cabin as an unclaimed since they came to camp with luke thalia annabeth and grover- so theyve gotten used to it but then percy gets there and they get claimed at the same time as him but they get upset because they feel like they were only claimed because the gods want to use them and they dont want to move into a big empty cabin with some kid they dont know? Thank you thank you thank you!!

thank you!! also this request HITS, anything for my man luke

masterlist

Luke Castellan thinks that he may come to regret this.

He’s sitting on the roof of the Hermes cabin, his favorite spot to get away from the noise currently roiling somewhere below him. Luke loves the people in Cabin Eleven, his half-siblings on the godly side and those who don’t have a true immortal parent to call their own. Not one they know, at least. That has always bothered him and likely always will.

Despite the fun of those good kids all decked out in orange t-shirts, gleeful grins, and bitter stares, the sound of all that teenage rage and rebellion can get to just about anyone. Curfew was already called, but the cleaning harpies won’t be around for a while, so Luke dares to stay out of doors for a few moments more.

The shadows shift in Luke’s periphery, and suddenly he’s alone no longer. Luke turns to see the intruder, letting the cool breeze guide him to the figure moving towards him in the semidarkness. Once he’s determined that he’s not about to be attacked, or at least not by an unfriendly face, he looks out towards the front of the cabin once more.

Luke closes his eyes, letting the creaking of wooden timbers and soft rhythm of footsteps tell him that his visitor is taking a seat next to him. Luke will answer their unspoken question soon enough, will carve out parts of him to make the other whole, but for now he lets himself bask in the blissful darkness of no one needing him for anything quite yet.

It is still here, it is quiet. The late hour must be getting to the Hermes kids below him; even the most rambunctious youth are murmuring about sleep and wanting to be silent for the time being. Luke can hear the insects whispering in the woods, the click of pincers, the swoosh of grass far below him. Luke knows what’s coming, but gods, if he doesn’t hate himself for wanting it so much.

Someone asks, “Can I come in?” Luke does not refuse. Does he ever?

It started earlier, all of this. Of course it did. Theirs is not a world of mere beginnings and endings. The past feeds the future, the present serves the past. You cannot pull one singular thread from a tapestry and expect to see the whole story.

Luke Castellan is used to people arriving unannounced to the Hermes cabin. Rarely has it been a place for solely his half-siblings, if it ever truly was. No, Hermes was the jack of all trades, so his home by extension must be the same as well. The bunks are always crowded, the floor always taken up by sleeping bags and curled forms of people who will never know who they truly are.

It used to make Luke mad. It still does, but that anger has been tainted with something else, a sort of grim sadness that tells him the bad times will just keep coming and coming. Every day, more unclaimed kids are sent here. If you get furious over every new arrival, the hate will never let you go. Sometimes, that’s more tempting than it should be.

There’s one unclaimed soul that Luke has never minded, though, and that would be Y/N L/N. They first came to camp a couple of years ago; no one knows when for sure, not even Luke or Y/N. Such details of such seemingly inconsequential arrivals are rarely written down in the great history books. Claimed kids have always been more important, especially those children of the more important gods. Some shadow of another indecision will just be given a camp t-shirt, a weapon, and an empty promise that they might, at some point, grow to know who they are.

So the Hermes cabin gained another soul to beat against its walls like a moth trapped inside past dark, who cares. Luke did. He still does, because Y/N wasn’t just another unclaimed demigod, they were his best friend. They plot late into the night about how they’d fix this place if they were ever in charge. Half of the scars on Luke’s sides are from all the times they were sparring together and Y/N managed to get through his defense. Luke heals some of those wounds with nectar or ambrosia, but not all. A couple are alright, to remind him of how much he’d bleed and die for Y/N if he ever got the chance.

They made a damn good team, anyone could see that. The jaded son of Hermes and the bitter unclaimed half-blood, the two people no one crosses, the only ones capable of pulling the other out of their own heads. Luke never knew what it was like to need someone until he met Y/N. He risked his life with Thalia, of course, he protected Annabeth, but he needs Y/N to breathe, to keep going. There are people who would despise such weakness, but Luke is not one of them. Not yet, at least. Not ever, so long as he’s in control of his own mind.

When Luke thinks about how much he hates the gods, when he drives himself half insane because of all the times the demigods needed their immortal parents and the gods never even bothered to claim them, he thinks about Y/N first of all.

He’s seen them cry a thousand tears for a parent that will never want them back, a sense of belonging that will never be theirs. Luke pulled Y/N close a hundred times, whispered a million worlds, and let his heart break in unison with theirs. They’ll get their revenge someday. Y/N will have their home, and even if that only ever ends up being Luke, it will be enough.

And then, all of a sudden, he wasn’t the end all, be all, of Y/N’s existence. A boy came to camp, sea-green eyes wide with shock and fear. His hair was dark, his conscience clean, and although Luke didn’t have a concrete reason to hate him, he did so anyway. Percy Jackson doesn’t know it yet, but he’s ruined everything.

The evidence was there soon enough. Capture the Flag has always been a favored pastime of the Camp Half-Blood demigods– who doesn’t love a chance to swing swords at your friends and enemies, then risk your neck in an attempt to wrangle victory and bragging rights in one go? Luke and Y/N have always made the best co-captains, and this time is no exception.

This time, though, Percy was on their team too, as another unclaimed kid stuck in Hermes cabin. Percy was the one who mysteriously has to face down a hellhound that somehow got into camp. No one looked to Luke as a source of the monster. No one suspected him. He made sure of it.

The result, though, he hadn’t counted on that. Percy is claimed, but the Jackson kid isn’t the only one with a glowing symbol hovering above their head. No, Luke looks to his side and realizes that Y/N, too, has been claimed. Y/N is a child of Poseidon as well. Looks like the god of the sea is only interested in claiming his children when he can multitask and get multiple at once, like checking off bothersome items on a to-do list.

Now is not the time for jokes, though. Y/N stares at him, eyes wide and reflecting the blue-green glow of being claimed, and Luke knows that it’s all over somehow. This is the sign Y/N’s been waiting for all this time, but it means that they’ll have to go to Poseidon’s cabin forever now, and just like that, all of their memories have come to a sudden halt.

They’re not done, of course. They’ll still be at the same camp, but nothing will ever truly be the same. No more of those late nights curled up together, whispering promises of a better future. No more working together on every cabinwide game or activity. No more eating meals together and exchanging jokes over bites of food. There is an immortal wedge driven between them now, as high and insurmountable as Luke has ever seen.

Y/N knows all this, and they look just as thunderstruck as he feels. Y/N looks like they want to run, and if it weren’t for the fact that the entire camp has now gathered around the two children of the sea god, Y/N might try it, too. Instead, they just stand there, staring at Luke like they’re hoping for a lifeline.

There’s nothing Luke can do, even if he hates himself for it. Instead, he sinks to one knee like the others, but he keeps his head up, eyes on Y/N until they’re physically separated by Chiron leading Percy and Y/N away. After that, Luke is left to stumble back home by himself, wondering why it hurts like a blade pierced between his ribs to notice that Y/N’s things have already been gathered and removed from the Hermes cabin.

Y/N and Percy sit by themselves at dinner that evening, as per tradition. Luke has never known Y/N to have a problem talking to people; seats by them are highly coveted at every meal, but you wouldn’t know that now. Y/N sits up perfectly straight, spine resolute and unflinching. Percy musters up the occasional effort to ask a question or two, but Y/N answers everything in monosyllabic words, making it clear that they want nothing to do with him.

Luke doesn’t get a chance to talk to them until the next day. Ever since the hellhound incident, Chiron has recommended that teams of demigods with more sword experience under their belts go search the woods for more monsters, just in case. Luke isn’t going to tell anyone that they don’t have to worry about that, obviously, but he isn’t about to pass up a chance to see Y/N.

He chooses Y/N as his patrol partner and they set out into the forest in search of certain death. Luke side eyes Y/N as they go, unable to stop himself from searching for clues that they’ve always been a child of Poseidon. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve got this familiar scent of salt and sea air, or a bit of wildness in their eyes that could only ever remind Luke of the untamed ocean. Then again, it could just be Poseidon amplifying those qualities in his elder child, trying to make it seem as if Y/N had his blessing all along. It wouldn’t surprise Luke if that were the case.

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to catch onto what he’s trying to do, though. “Spot any drastic differences in my appearance?” They ask, one brow raised, “what, did the old man dye my hair blue to match the waves?”

Luke snorts. “I don’t think anyone would be foolish enough to try that, even a god.”

Y/N laughs along with him, but their smile fades soon enough. “So? Am I completely and utterly different now that I’ve been claimed? All this time of waiting for it, surely something should have changed.”

Luke shakes his head decisively. “You’re still Y/N in every way.”

“No kidding,” Y/N says bitterly, “it’s because I was never important to Poseidon. Not really. He was already going to claim Percy and felt bad, so he got me too. He probably wants a pawn, someone he can sacrifice instead of Percy and feel appropriately big-hearted about it.”

Luke can’t say he’s surprised to hear Y/N so upset. It can’t feel good, knowing that the only reason your godly parent finally noticed you was because of someone else. “He could have done it so much earlier. The fact that he waited this long to claim you isn’t great, to say the least.”

Y/N’s lips curl with a sneer. “No, it’s just fantastic. I gave up on him, you know? Sometimes I liked to pretend that my claiming might happen, but we all knew the truth. I accepted my fate as an unclaimed demigod forever, and just when I was finally appreciating it, he goes and does this to me. Now I have to spend the rest of my days in this empty, gloomy cabin with a kid I don’t even know. I feel closer to the other Hermes kids and they’re not even my family. Hell, they are my family, just not by the godly side, but for some reason that pales in comparison with some stranger from Manhattan.”

Luke reaches out an arm to pull Y/N closer by their shoulders. “You’re not done with us Hermes kids, obviously. Cabin Eleven is still yours, even if you’re no longer unclaimed. If you get sick of Jackson, we’d be glad to have you back.”

“Even though you need all the empty space you can get?” Y/N asks doubtfully.

“Well,” Luke says as casually as he can, “we mainly just tell that to the others to scare them off. You’re one of us, Y/N.” He pauses, then forces out the last bit in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “You’re the only one I want there with me. I miss you.”

Y/N looks up at him, eyes soft. “I miss you too.”

“It’s stupid, though, isn’t it?” Luke mutters, “we’re at the same camp, I can see you whenever.”

“It’s not the same, though,” Y/N muses, “I might take you up on that offer, though. Just warning you.”

“I look forward to it,” Luke promises.

They talk for a while longer about sword fighting practice and demigod rivalries and other nonsense. Even after they go back to their respective activities, though, Luke can’t fight a pang in his chest. Y/N isn’t his anymore, not in the way that they used to belong to each other in a way that only misfits do. He’s Hermes, they’re Poseidon, and times will never be the same again.

Luke has always liked the relentless babble of the Hermes cabin, but today is a different story. Instead of washing away his troubles on an endless stream of chatter, it only serves to grate against his nerves. Luke waits until no one is watching, then pulls himself out of a nearby window and up to the roof in one swift movement. No one sees him go, no one will follow. At last, he can be alone.

Or, he’s alone until someone touches down on the roof. Luke sits there, legs swinging over the edge, and shuts his eyes. He can stretch this moment out into infinity while he’s waiting for Y/N to cross the roof to sit next to him. The goodbyes never come if the hellos never do, either.

Y/N places their hand on his shoulder, warm and steady as always. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Luke murmurs back. As if he would ever let them go.

The lights are off when he slips inside once more. It’s a blessing, as no one notices Y/N follow him in. Hermes kids are usually quiet, best at sneaking around. It’s a trait Y/N has clearly picked up from him. Luke tries not to let it go to his head. Usually, he hates any evidence that his father has impacted him in some way, but for some reason he doesn’t mind it in Y/N.

It’s quiet in the cabin, so this is no time for conversation. Instead, Luke makes his way over to his bunk, holding out his arms for Y/N to join him. The night passes in the same fashion as many before it: the two of them intertwined like thread, heads against shoulders and legs together. Y/N falls asleep first, but Luke stays awake a while longer, cursing this world for not giving him what he needs to live through it in peace.

This is the beginning of the end, he thinks. He thought that maybe getting claimed would ease Y/N’s anger, but it only ignited it. That makes Luke furious in turn. If the gods are only going to use Y/N as a pawn, well, Luke will clearly have to stop them before they try anything of the sort. None of the immortals care about their children, but Luke does. Luke always will.

He makes himself a promise before his eyes shut that night, even swears it on the River Styx. Their revenge will come. The gods will know their names, and not just as tools to claim when the time is right. Luke will make the Olympians do right by him, by Y/N, by all of them. They have no idea what’s coming.

pjo tag list: @w1shes43, @fadedver

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan oneshot #pjo #pjo imagines #pjo x reader #pjo oneshot #pjo luke #pjo luke imagines #pjo luke x reader #pjo luke oneshot

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pettypuppy-jonghyun · 1 year

Text

Cuddling With You | Hyunjin

Summary: when Hyunjin really just wants to cuddle you

Warnings: none it's so fluffy I could die

Word count: 1034

•••

Some days you find yourself spending time in Hyunjin's art studio with him. He would be painting or sketching something on one side of the room and you on the other. You didn't have to be doing something artistic like him, you could even be catching up on work and typing away at the computer, Hyunjin enjoyed your presence. You both enjoyed each other's.

Most of the time you both sat in silence. Occasionally one might put in their headphones to fill the silent room, but never assume the other wants noise. It just was a unspoken rule to keep the peace. It was the best place for the two of you to go when you needed a break away from the real world, but still wanted time together. Hyunjin loved quality time with you more than anything.

But some days, he yearned for a little more than that. Some days, he would glance over to your side of the room to see if you were busy. He would form a plan on how to attract your attention without him verbally saying it. His mind would slowly remove itself from his project, slowly filling with only thoughts of you. Having you in his arms for the rest of the night sounded so tempting.

Tonight was one of those nights you wore headphones. Your back was turned towards him as you typed away at your computer. Although you had finished the paperwork for you job a long time ago, you stayed on the laptop to write a story. It was one you had been working on for quite some time and finally had the will to continue once more. You didn't notice your lover's eyes begging for attention right behind you.

Sighing, Hyunjin finally set down his paintbrush. He realized he wasn't going to have any luck looking longingly your way when you never turned around once. And the longer he waited for you, the more he realized how much he wanted to hold you. It was well past midnight and now he wished for nothing more than your sole focus to be on him. It was far too late in the night for you to still be working on anything important.

Arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you to the back of your seat and against Hyunjin's chest. These movements startled you and you instantly pulled out the headphones, attempting to turn around and face him. His arms locked you in place and kept you from doing so. He leaned down so his face hid in the crevice of your neck.

"You smell good," he hums softly. "Did you change your soap?"

You laugh. "I used the soap your mother gave me for a birthday gift. Do you like it?"

That's why, he thought. His mother knew what he liked best. Although he loved the scent you used before, because it represented you the most, this smell was almost intoxicating. You smelled like home, love, and memories. Everything he ever cared about all in one bottle. He made a mental note to thank his mother.

"Come to bed?" He asks you, peppering sweet kisses down your neck and to your exposed shoulder.

Although unable to turn, you reached a tender hand to cup Hyunjin's face. "What's wrong, my love? Are you having artist block?"

He shook his head. "No, but I'm so very distracted." Another kiss or two to your bare skin before he finally turned you around to face him. His brown doe eyes were filled with adoration as he gazed upon your own, wondering if you will agree to his request.

You couldn't possibly deny Hyunjin like this. He was already tempting enough when he didn't plead for your attention. But the rare nights where he requested more love than normal, those nights were hard to resist. You found your fingers twirling through his long hair, wrapping it around a couple times before delicately tucking it behind his ear.

"I'm feeling quite tired," you found yourself saying. "I don't mind calling it a night."

Hyunjin was hoping you would say that. He tucked his arms under your own to help you to your feet. But when you paused your movements, not taking a step forward, he was worried you changed your mind.

"What's wrong?"

You smiled slightly. "Kkami..."

You both glance down to your feet where Kkami laid peacefully. His light snores suddenly became more prominent when his presence was noticed. He shuffled comfortably on your feet when you moved to stand up.

Hyunjin frowned. "Why is he okay with cuddling you all the time but now me? The person who's had him since I was 16?"

You giggle and hit his shoulder. "Did you also not want to cuddle with me?" You reach down to gently cradle Kkami into your arms. He adjusted fairly quickly, allowing you to move him into the bedroom with Hyunjin following slowly behind.

Hyunjin wouldn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't tell if he was jealous of you, his lover whom was able to show affection to Kkami and receive it. Or if he was envious of his dog, who could lay by your side all day long and be able to have the most gentle care forever. Either way, he wasn't able to change his situation. He could only watch as you placed Kkami on his dog bed at the foot of your shared bed.

"Good night sweet pup," you coo, petting his head when he raised it. He gave you two small kisses to your nose before snuggling himself into a ball.

Hyunjin crawled into the sheets of your bed. "My turn." His arms out stretched to your figure, beckoning you closer.

You took to your side of the bed, lifting the covers to scootch in easier. You snuggled all the way into Hyunjin's arms, wrapping your legs around his own and burying your face into his chest. He gripped you tightly for a moment, giving you a nice squeeze before releasing you enough that the two of you were comfortable. He wiggled down some and rested his head atop of yours.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you most."

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fic #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin stray kids #fluff #skz imagine #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #romance #kpop #fanfiction #skz fluff

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gerrystamour · 11 months

Text

run it back (give me five whole minutes)

Rated T | Steddie Week Day 5: Together | 1700 Words | Complete

[ READ ON AO3 ]

“Maybe I can come help you?” “No, Eds, you need to sleep tonight. You and Wayne have a lot of driving to do tomorrow, don’t you?” “Yeah, just… we’re not gonna see each other for a week, and we haven’t really seen each other for a couple of days already…” “I know. I’m sorry…” If you're seeing me reposting it, no you aren't. ANYWAY this is my entry for @steddie-week Day 5: Established Relationship & Together CW: Some negative self-talk because I decided to inflict some of my RSD on Steeb.

By the time Steve left work, his entire head was full of static. There was a pounding, pulling feeling just behind his left eye and it felt like his eardrums were ready to rupture with how loud his ears rang. So much had been going on all day, and then some moron knocked over an entire shelf literally five minutes before the store closed.

Steve had been tempted to tidy it up as best as he could and leave a note, but he knew Keith would fire him if he did that. Normally, he wouldn’t really care because cleaning up the mess would normally help settle his mood before he went home to bed.

But he had plans. He had plans and now he had to cancel them to clean up a mess so he didn’t get fired.

The phone call had sucked to make, telling Eddie that he wasn’t going to be able to make it to his place after work.

“Maybe I can come help you?”

“No, Eds, you need to sleep tonight. You and Wayne have a lot of driving to do tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Yeah, just… we’re not gonna see each other for a week, and we haven’t really seen each other for a couple of days already…”

“I know. I’m sorry…”

Eddie had reassured Steve that it was okay, that he understood, that he wasn’t mad. But Steve couldn’t shake the repeating, screaming thoughts that he fucked up big time. That it was a mistake to prioritize his shitty minimum wage job over seeing his boyfriend before he left to visit the few extended family members he and Wayne still spoke to for a week.

Steve was just destined to be a shit boyfriend, apparently.

That thought had to be shut down quickly because he didn’t want to do something embarrassing like cry while he was still within the four walls of Family Video.

So he focused on righting the shelf and reorganizing the videos correctly. A few cases got damaged, so he set those aside with a note for Keith. By the time he finished, it was one in the morning.

There was a chance Eddie was still awake because if Steve knew his boyfriend, he knew the man didn’t have a healthy sleep schedule. But what good would calling him do? Steve already chose work over him, so calling now would just rub that in.

Steve locked up the store and drove home, tears welling up in his eyes and blurring his vision. He fucked up bad and he was going to have to figure out how to fix it fast. Steve kept replaying the distracted way Eddie said he loved him on the phone when they hung-up earlier, which made him think of all the times Nancy said she loved him.

Maybe if he woke up super early the next morning, he could get to Eddie’s trailer before he left, and he could apologize in person and see him? Waking up early after a shift like the one he had and working past one in the morning was a recipe for a migraine, or at least a tension headache from hell, but it would be worth it to make this up to Eddie.

Steve couldn’t lose Eddie over his stupid bullshit.

By the time Steve pulled into the driveway of his house, he was struggling to hold back the tears. He wasn’t normally a crier, just when he was exhausted, in pain, and a bit heartsick all at once. Steve couldn’t stand that about himself, especially in moments like this where it wasn’t even okay for him to be that upset. He fucked up, why was he upset?

Entering his dark, quiet house, Steve quickly locked the front door and tossed his keys at the bowl on the table near the front door before trudging loudly up the stairs without taking off his shoes. He barely cared that his keys missed the bowl entirely and clattered loudly to the floor.

Steve didn’t even notice there was already a set of keys sitting in the bowl.

He didn’t stop until he was in his bathroom, staring at his tear-streaked and miserable face. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself as he started taking off his clothes for a shower. “Worst fucking boyfriend, why does anyone even fucking bother with you?”

“Hey!”

Steve jumped, too startled even to shout, and he turned on the intruder with fists ready. He wasn’t prepared to see his boyfriend, sleep-soft and frowning at him.

“Eds?” he asked, confusion blurring with his self-loathing. Why was Eddie here? Shit, he must’ve felt so bad for Steve he came over. Once again, someone else was doing all the fucking emotional work in the relationship, and Eddie had to be up early—

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that,” Eddie said firmly, stepping into the bathroom to hold Steve’s face.

“What?” he asked, dazed now that Eddie was standing in his space and touching him.

“You were saying mean shit about my amazing boyfriend, Steve,” Eddie said, and Steve’s expression crumpled.

“Don’t—you don’t have to say that. You’re just being nice—” Steve started, but he was interrupted by Eddie scoffing.

“Sweetheart, when am I ever ‘just being nice’ to anyone?” Eddie asked and Steve couldn’t really argue that. Eddie wasn’t mean, and he wasn’t always forthcoming with talking about his feelings on matters, but he was never nice for the sake of being nice. If he was telling someone something with his words, then that meant something.

“But I didn’t leave work,” Steve said weakly, trying to find the justifications for why he was a terrible boyfriend. “You’re leaving tomorrow and I didn’t leave work to see you.”

“Stevie, that’s your job. You—did I even ask you to leave work?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me!” Steve said with no small amount of frustration. What wasn’t Eddie understanding about this? Steve wasn’t being attentive, he wasn’t thinking three steps ahead, he wasn’t reading between the lines of Eddie’s questions and requests well enough.

“So if I asked you to leave that huge mess and lose your job, you would’ve?” Eddie asked skeptically, but something must have shown on Steve’s face because Eddie’s expression faltered. “Babe, staying behind at work was fine. I’m not so needy that you should drop everything and come running to comfort me.”

“But you were upset,” Steve insisted, taking a step back out of Eddie’s hands. “You were upset and I didn’t—”

“I was upset because you sounded so miserable on the phone! I wasn’t—fuck, Steve, I’m sorry I made you feel like I was upset with you,” Eddie said, stepping forward to cup Steve’s face again. Then he added, “Yeah, I wanted to see you before I went on the worst fucking trip ever, and yeah I was sad I wouldn’t, but I was mostly sad that you were having such a shitty day.”

“I didn’t even tell you about my day, though,” Steve said, a bit dazed.

“Didn’t have to, sweetheart,” Eddie replied with a sweet smile. “You did your Headache Brewing Sigh after every sentence,” he elaborated after a moment and Steve’s heart ached at being known so deeply.

“You should be sleeping, Eds,” Steve said weakly, stepping forward into Eddie’s embrace.

“I’m not going anymore. I didn’t wanna go in the first place, so I told Wayne I’m staying home,” Eddie replied, and his arms tightened around him when Steve tried to pull away. “Don’t, you beautiful little martyr. I didn’t want to go so I’m not going. There’s nothing more to it, don’t make it about you.”

Steve felt all the fight leave his body, resting his weight more heavily against Eddie with a shaky sigh, his head dropping to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, baby,” Eddie cooed, petting his hair, but Steve shook his head.

“I just need to shower first,” he said, and he could feel Eddie nodding.

“Alright, let’s do that, then bed,” Eddie said brightly, stepping back carefully to start taking off his pajamas. When Steve opened his mouth to argue, Eddie held a finger to his lips with a playfully stern expression. “I’m taking care of you tonight, Stevie. It’ll be over quicker if you just let me.”

At that, Steve huffed a tired laugh and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled lightly and finished undressing.

The shower took them a long time, Eddie refusing to let Steve do any of the work to wash himself off. Eddie just grabbed each bottle Steve reached for and did everything for him. At one point, Steve let out a sigh that carried a small vocalization at the end, his body finally relaxing under the hot spray of the shower and his boyfriend’s cool hands.

Eddie took that moment to drop a soft, almost distracted kiss to the back of Steve’s shoulder and the tenderness of that tiny gesture broke through something in him. With a shaky inhale, Steve turned around and wrapped his arms around Eddie, burying his face into the junction of his boyfriend’s shoulder and neck with a sigh. There were tears in Steve’s eyes again, but this time they weren’t sad.

When Eddie immediately wrapped his own arms around him, Steve kissed the skin his mouth was closest to before tipping his head back to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I love you,” Steve confessed so quietly that the shower almost drowned him out.

Eddie heard it though, or read his lips, and his big brown eyes widened a bit. Then a grin split his face and he dropped a kiss onto Steve’s mouth. “I love you, too,” Eddie said without pulling away and Steve pressed closer to deepen the kiss again.

Standing under the steady spray of the shower, they kissed each other slow and sweet, searching even if they knew their ways around each other’s mouths. It was different now that they’d said the word they had both been thinking since the day they first kissed.

Finally, the temperature of the water began to waver and they pulled away from the kiss.

“Holy shit, so there is an end to the Harrington water heater,” Eddie marveled as they quickly finished up and turned the water off.

Once they were tucked into bed, Steve reached across the space between them to pull Eddie into his arms tightly. Eddie laughed as he settled, wrapping himself around Steve and sighing happily.

“I love you,” Steve said again, yawning.

Eddie turned his head where it rested and kissed Steve’s chest. “Love you, too, Stevie.”

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