#until she was actually half-decent at it one day

[possamble]

Question to a fanfic writer: do you think that, in Marcille’s research ways *And* her love for romance novels… would result in her writing some in-universe fanfics of her own? Like, maybe she hypes herself up on something and get disappointed, or maybe she finds some character decision isn’t as ideal as she thinks it could be? Or it’s as simple as she wants to play around with the characters and see what happens?

I can’t help but imagine a scenario where she’s struggling with some romantic trouble irl and she’s struggling with deciding on what to do, but then the answer slaps itself upside her head when she rediscovers her fanfics and how she LITERALLY made a character or two do the exact romantic decision she needs to do? It would so silly but yet I can’t help but find it so charming. Hell, just the imagery of her writing romance fanfics of her own At All is just… delightful to me hehehe.

you know I've been rotating this in my head since I saw it this morning and. I went through a wild journey of opinions before I realized... Marcille wouldn't think about fanfiction like we think about it. In the modern age, yeah, she'd be a complete tumblrina -- but we're talking about a 17th century-ish fantasy setting.

Writing before the digital age was a physical commitment to investing ink and paper into your thoughts -- and this is even before mass production can make pens and notebooks kind of whatever to buy and use on a regular basis. I'm sure the situation wasn't dire, but I really can't see Marcille, perfect honor student, using her allotted supply of stationery at the academy on super frivolous things.

Fanfiction has been normalized incredibly fast in the past few decades. Think about now normal and popular D&D is nowadays compared to how much people looked down on it 20-30 years ago. Fanfiction was a freakass nerd thing to do until relatively recent history, something that was even considered offensive to the original creators.

Remember, we've already seen Marcille react to adaptations with disgust. She's kind of a hater and an elitist fan. She also considers herself a Reputable Academic. In a setting where a digitized culture hasn't reframed fanfiction as an act of appreciation and creativity, she would absoluuuuuuuutely think that fanfiction was complete loser shit.

If she did write anything about her favourite books... She'd. She'd be one of those assholes who writes huge scathing reviews of Dal Clan translations into Common. She'd be the fantasy equivalent of those Weebs/Japanese elitists on twitter tearing through every single localization choice in anime and JRPGs and being so so annoying about it.

If we're being charitable, we could say she'd be able to appreciate non-faithful translation choices that still do a good job of carrying over the original spirit of what was said. But I think we also have to acknowledge the possibility that, at her worst, she'd really really be like those guys who were malding about the Unicorn Overlord localizations so hard the (correction: Final Fantasy Tactics Creator, not the Unicorn Overlord devs) had to step forward and ratio them. (The silver lining is that she'd never get published in the arts review newspapers/journals that she submits her essays to. those poor editors just have to deal with her being persistent.)

#asks #marcille donato #dungeon meshi #im so sorry anon your idea was very cute and i know i wasn't supposed to take this so seriously but #god. the revelation hit me and i just cried laughing #she's so horrendous. i love her so fucking much. #i really do think the only setting she'd be able to write fanfiction is in modern aus #bc then she can just delete stuff she doesn't like and lose nothing but the time it took to write it #the problem is that she has the kind of perfectionism that stops her from doing things unless she can do them competently the first time #(gifted child syndrome) #but writing fiction is a skill. one that she would have to hone from zero. while not necessarily having natural talent for it. #her reading standards would be so much higher than her writing ability and she'd haaaaate that #... that said #i can see her absentmindedly dabbling in short form poetry in the margins of her journal #i think that's small enough of a scale that she'd accidentally do it a lot without thinking about it too hard #until she was actually half-decent at it one day #like... starting some years into the post-canon. this is crucial. she needs to chill a bit before this could happen

[leadmeastraylittlefairy]

.

#don’t read this if you don’t want to hear about weight loss (unintentional due to health issues) #i’ve been struggling really bad to eat for the latter half of this year which is something i’ve been having issues w the last couple years #but with weed i was still able to eat decent meals and snacks in the evening and i had been slowly gaining weight until this summer #and i’ve always been a little chunky #but i’ve lost at least 30 pounds in the last ~6 months bc i am just unable to eat really at all #everything makes me nauseous or want to gag and when i cook meals i can make myself eat a couple bites so im not starving any more but #i can’t finish anything #and i can only eat in the evenings #from the time i wake up till about 8pm i maybe have a box of apple juice #and ive had a couple appts w my primary care dr and she straight up doesn’t care i asked for an appetite stimulant previously and she just #upped my migraine med instead….and then when i went back and had lost more weight she said she couldn’t even give me #an appetite stimulant and that i would need a referral for a nutritionist……. #and that she wouldn’t be concerned at all if i weren’t losing weight… #and today i was complaining to my mom about how loose my leggings were and i really don’t want to buy new clothes and she was like you know #that’s actually a good thing #you starving every day for fucking months is a good thing actually :))))))) #i’m just so sick of it…i’m sick of my coworkers complimenting me when i am starving and can’t do anything about it….sick of my doctor not #caring bc im still overweight so since i don’t look like im dying it must not be a problem #i don’t know what’s causing this and i don’t know what to do……i miss enjoying food it was one of the very few pleasures i have in life #im tired of unintentionally being an asshole at work bc im so hungry and i feel like shit but if i try to eat ill vom #cant watch food videos on youtube anymore bc they make me ill #cant read anything that mentions food or describes what people are eating anymore bc it makes me gag #im just sick of this #maybe i’ll try to find a new doctor #as if i can afford to go

[rebelfell]

actor!steve x assistant!reader x rockstar!eddie

cw: fingering (fem receiving) 1k 18+, MDNI

The Vanity Fair party…it haunts me…

“She looks so pretty tonight. Doesn’t she, Ed?”

Steve’s hot breath hit the shell of your ear as he held you pinned against him. He was pressed so firmly into your back you could feel every button on his dark gold shirt, every shiny stone on the chain that hung around his neck, every strand of dense chest hair that peeked out from beneath his collar. His hands squeezed tight around your waist to hold you steady, his hips moving in a filthy grind in time with the bass vibrating the floor beneath your feet.

Shivers ran down your back as stubble rasped against the nape of your neck, his voice as rough and coarse as the scruff that dusted his jaw. In front of you, Eddie’s teeth tugged back his plush bottom lip as he bit back a lustful smile seeing you squirming in your formal wear.

“Oh, yeah, Stevie. Just gorgeous…” 

Eddie hummed to himself as his eyes roved over you and his knuckles traced the neckline of your gown, making your skin fizz like the champagne flowing freely in the next room.

One of his chunky silver rings flicked your nipple that stood rigid behind the sparkly stretch fabric, earning him a sharp inhale from you that had his eyes lifting to meet yours. 

They danced with pure mischief, his rich brown irises all inky darkness in the low light.

The slinky black dress Steve picked out for you and left in your hotel room still felt more like a costume compared to what you typically wore running around the city doing his errands. It was simple, not remotely as ornate or elegant as the custom-made designer ones being photographed by hundreds of paparazzi.

Still, the material draped nicely around your body and the slit that ran up one side showed off a decent amount of leg. The salacious cut initially made you balk, but you found you rather liked it after all—especially now as it granted Eddie’s hand access to your bare skin, the soft pads of his fingertips running slowly up your thigh until he reached your hip and groaned when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

All night you’d been running around in a near constant panic, just trying to navigate the event without getting in anyone’s way. And all your efforts had led you here—tucked into some dark corner, between your boss and his best friend.

The heat of their bodies encasing yours and the mixture of their colognes in your nose made you lightheaded in the best possible way. Your chest heaved as you inhaled deeply, trying to keep your wits about you as it was so easy to lose them when it came to these particular men. 

This was hardly your first time messing around with them, but their intensity never failed to steal your breath. It had been such a long night already, and it seemed it only would be getting longer.

Only Eddie had actually attended the ceremony. Corroded Coffin had been nominated (again) for the work they did on a score, just to lose (again) to whatever summer blockbuster had swept all the awards. He would have blown it off entirely except this year he’d also been drafted to do a surprise guitar solo during Ryan Gosling’s performance of “I’m Just Ken.”

It was already trending everywhere, everyone calling it the highlight of the night. Just another day in the life of the legendary frontman.

Steve, as usual, showed up to the afterparty with his hairy tits out to do some brief and semi-chaotic interviews while you dutifully shuffled along behind him with the rest of the assistants and publicists. Except when they were dismissed for the evening, their jobs done, you found yourself being dragged from the crowd, pushed up against a wall with his mouth covering yours.

“Thought I’d never get my hands on you,” he’d groaned, sounding practically feral in your ear. “Can’t wait to get this dress off you…maybe I should just tear it in half, huh?”

He grinned into your throat as he kissed his way down your neck and then back up to your lips, his teeth nipping lightly at your skin as he went. His mouth slid all and fast and rough against yours, like he was trying to mess up your lipstick.

You’d joked to him once that it was “fuck-proof” and he’d apparently taken that as a challenge.

That was how Eddie found the two of you when he grew bored of the party—hidden away in the far corner, your fingers all twisted up in Steve’s messy hair, his hands rucking up your skirt as he palmed your ass only to grip your waist and spin you around when he saw Eddie was watching.

The sight of him in his Tom Ford suit, a slimmer and sleeker cut than Steve’s slouchy seventies get-up, made your chest swell and your heart pound as he strode forward to cage you in between he and Steve’s bodies.

“She’s been working so hard all night,” Steve tutted as he took your earlobe between his teeth and raked them across the soft flesh. “I’d say she deserves a break, wouldn’t you?”

“Definitely,” Eddie groaned, his hand now fully beneath your dress, his fingers expertly dancing across the crease of your thigh until they found the warmth and wetness he sought.

You couldn’t help but gasp as Steve’s hands snaked around to press against your stomach, feeling how it quivered under his splayed palms as he gave a short thrust of his hips. Eddie’s nose brushed your cheek, his face getting as close to yours as he could without it actually touching it, your breaths mixing as his lips hovered in the space a kiss would occupy.

Legs like jelly nearly gave out beneath you, body held up only by Steve’s grasp as Eddie’s fingers slipped inside of you, fitting there like it was the only place they were ever meant to be.

Music that boomed over the speakers and the sounds of the crowd thankfully drowned out the moan you released from deep in your chest, your hands coming up to clutch at the lapels of Eddie’s suit and knocking diamond brooch pinned there to the floor. His lips were at your ear now, more shivers still rippling down your spine.

“Careful with the merchandise, sweetheart” he whispered, a coy smile curling across his lips. He leaned in closer, his cock now pressing insistently into your hip while Steve’s own was digging harder into the plushness of your ass.

“Yes, s-sir,” you whimpered and instantly let your hands fall to your sides.

“You better have them pull the car around, Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his face etched with a need that matched your own, his fingers reaching deeper inside of you, curling up to find that spot that had your knees buckling while his thumb rubbed tight circles around your clit.

“How’s that sound, honey?” Steve asked, his deep voice all warm and husky in your other ear. “That what you want? Are you ready for us?”

“God, yes—” you answered through your fog, lost in the sensations of their distinctive touch.

“Perfect.” Eddie smirked. “Time to take you to Paris, sweetheart.”

#if you think it looks longer now no it doesn't #that's what he said #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steddie x you #steddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number, Part 3

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

(four weeks ago)

J: guess what?

HS: What?

J: no you actually have to guess!

HS: Why?

J: i wouldn't have said guess what if i didn't want you to actually guess. i would've just told you

J: so guess!

HS: Uh...you went on a date with a decent guy?

J: normally i would say RUDE but you're correct!

J: still...RUDE

(ten minutes later)

HS: Wow.

J: wow? just wow? i'm making real progress here!

J: college graduate, good head of hair, sense of humor that isn't misogynistic, and he's stupid hot

J: i think i'm in love

HS: After just one date? Don't you think it's a little too soon to tell?

J: who knew you were such debbie downer

J: i think you need to go on a date. maybe that'll make you believe in the power of love and a beautiful smile

HS: Ha ha

HS: I already told you I'm too busy.

J: no one's too busy for love h

(present day)

Y/n had never felt more nervous in her life.

Here she was sitting across from the person she'd spent countless days and weeks and months texting. There was never a moment where she didn't have anything to say to him, but now her mind was completely blank.

She wasn't supposed to see him again. The tour buses were typically a ghost town as it got closer and closer to show time, so she figured she could wait there before she had to leave for the airport.

When Y/n saw Harry outside the tour bus, she thought he'd come to yell at her some more; part of her thought she was about to be sent to jail for stalking. But all he wanted to do was talk.

And now they were on a couch not saying a word.

There was too much that needed to be said, but Y/n didn't know how to start, and she assumed Harry didn't either because he was just as quiet. But since the silence was almost as unbearable as when he yelled at her, she mustered the courage to say something.

"I...I don't know how to convince you that I'm not a stalker," she said, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. Then she laughed a little.

"What?"

Her eyes flicked up to Harry's, and when he wasn't laughing or smiling with her, she stopped. "We, uh, we had the same conversation, only in reverse, remember?"

Y/n had gone through many emotions that day—mortification, terror. She'd gone out on a limb by texting so soon after a date, and to find out that said date had given her a fake phone number was not the best feeling in the world. And then realizing that she'd sent a picture of herself half-naked...not her proudest moment.

"I—It was a risk for me too, you know," she said quietly. "I didn't know who you were, either, and I—I don't know what else you want me to say. I wasn't lying. You were the one who asked to talk, so talk."

Harry didn't talk, at least not at first. Y/n wasn't going to say anything else until he did, though. He'd yelled at her, called her sick, assumed the absolute worst without about her before stopping to ask for an explanation. And she understood, but then why not just let her be? Why drag this out?

"I want to believe you. I'm trying to believe you," Harry said. "You just—You have to understand how alarming this was for me. This isn't the first time my phone number has gotten leaked."

"I'm sorry." It was all Y/n could think of to say.

"And so hearing you say my name when I'd never told you...I got scared, and—and angry that it'd happened again."

Y/n understood where Harry was coming from, and she didn't blame him for not believing her, but this all seemed redundant. She already forgave him in her note. Perhaps she could try a different approach.

"I didn't know who One Direction was when we first started talking," she said. "I didn't even know who One Direction was until I got this job."

Harry's brows raised. "Really?"

Y/n rolled her eyes. "You're popular, but not that popular."

To her surprise, Harry laughed. It was small and weak, but it was a laugh. "Fair enough."

"I swear I didn't know who you were until this tour. I saw the first couple shows on the road, I saw just how many fans you guys have, and so maybe I did a little research, but I didn't know it was Harry Styles, beloved by millions of teenage girls around the world, that I was texting."

Harry scooted closer to her, and with wide eyes, Y/n scooted away. She didn't know what that meant, or why he did it, but she wasn't ready for it. They'd been friends, were friends, she didn't know what they were. He was close enough for now.

Harry was...very gorgeous. Y/n was well aware of that after seeing pictures of him online and in passing during the day. Now that they were up close, she was suddenly aware of his pretty green eyes and hair that curled down to his shoulders. And the tattoos. God, how many times had she told Harry that she loved a guy with tattoos?

"So...You really only found out a few days ago?" he asked.

"I only know what you've said over text," Y/n said with a nod. "And some of your discography, obviously. And the names of your fellow boy band members."

Y/n watched as Harry took in what she said, hoping he would believe her, or at the very least not be angry with her anymore. She knew they would probably never be friends, but maybe she could go back home knowing he didn't hate her or think she was crazy.

"I...believe you. I think," he said after a couple long minutes.

"Don't say that if you don't—"

"No, I—I told you a few days ago that I know you, and I meant that," he insisted. "I jumped to conclusions because of past circumstances, but thinking clearly and reading your letter...those instances and this aren't the same. I'm sorry for exploding on you like that."

Y/n shook her head. "You said it yourself. This wasn't the first time something like this has happened. You had a right to be angry."

"I just—This wasn't how I wanted this to go."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted—I wanted the first time we met to be...I don't know what I wanted but I didn't want it to be like this."

Eyes blinking in surprise, Y/n said, "Well, I'm glad you believe me. Maybe we can still be frie—Oh."

Before Y/n could finish what she was saying, her phone went off. Her alarm.

"What's that?"

Y/n looked down at her phone, then up at Harry. Things seemed to be mended for the most part, but she didn't want to press her luck. If she left now, maybe they could go back to the way things were before their identities were more or less revealed.

"I set an alarm so I would make it to the airport on time," she said, standing up from the couch. "My flight isn't for another two hours, but I like to get there early because of security and all that."

"You're leaving?" Harry asked, sounding incredulous, though you weren't sure why.

"I told you I was. You threatened to call the police on me, remember?"

"But—But we fixed everything. I thought...This is still your foot in the door, June. I don't want to take that away from you."

It was sweet that he was still thinking about her career, Y/n thought. But... "I appreciate that you're taking my career into account, but I think I need some time to digest the fact that the...friend that I've been texting for the last couple months is—is—"

The truth was Y/n needed to get over the fact that she couldn't actually be with her perfect stranger. When she could hide behind her phone, it was easier to fantasize and come back down to earth, but now the reality of their situation was slapping her in the face. This wasn't going to end with the two of them together.

"Is what? Not who you thought I was?"

"I was taken by surprise too, you know. I thought, or I'd hoped for—"

"What?

"Nothing. I have to catch my flight," Y/n said. She stood up from the couch, or tried to, anyway. Harry reached for her wrist, keeping her there. She knew she could easily pull away and stand up, but she didn't. "Maybe I should've let you believe I was crazy," she said with a laugh. "It would've made leaving easier."

"You don't have to go," Harry insisted. "You're my friend, and I—"

"But I don't want to just be your friend, Harry!" She said, finally pulling her hand from his. "Maybe that makes me crazy for developing feelings for someone before I ever met them, but I'm not sure I could sit around and pretend that I don't want to take your face in my hands and—"

Y/n didn't even register that Harry had moved closer to her. Couldn't make a single noise before they were nose and his lips were on hers. She could only stare, nearly cross-eyed, so surprised she could hardly register how soft his lips were. And then, for just a moment, Y/n closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the kiss. Her hands found themselves in his hair, pulling him closer, pulling him over her, but before they could get any further her senses took over.

"H—Wha—What are you doing—"

"Do you know how hard it was to watch you go on and on about going out with complete dickheads?" he asked, not trying to kiss Y/n, but not moving away either. "To know that some undeserving idiot was taking you out and treating you so wrong when I could've—when I knew I could be better than that, be someone you deserved."

"You never—I don't understand." She did, she just didn't want to.

"June," Harry said. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek so gently, yet it sent chills throughout her whole body. "I want—I want y—"

Y/n didn't let him finish as she pressed her lips to his again. A hum rumbled from Harry's chest, clearly pleased by her reaction. She let herself savor every feeling—from the hand that cradled her face and laid her back across the couch to hair that created a curtain over the both of them and his persistent mouth that wanted more, more, more. The leather sofa was cool against her back and she whimpered, but Harry only took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, slotting a leg between hers while her arms threaded around his neck.

"Tell me you'll stay," he said, breathing only slightly shallow. Y/n had only kissed Harry twice, but she was aching to do it again. She leaned forward, but he moved just out of reach, his fingers holding her chin in place. "I'm sorry for yelling and immediately assuming the worst, but please don't go. Not yet."

He looked so sincere, Y/n thought. The way Harry stared at her was intense but endearing. His lips were a little swollen from all the kissing, and some of his hair was hanging in his face. She could understand why so many people were attracted to him, even outside the realm of physical beauty. If Y/n didn't know him the way she did and he still looked at her like that, she would do nothing short of eating out of the palm of his hand. His energy was hypnotizing, his intentions were good, and he had a decent heart to match. Y/n wasn't sure she'd be able to leave even if she wanted to.

"I won't. I promise."

If him pleading with her hadn't done the trick, his smile would have. It was full of hope rounded out by deep dimples and charm. "Really?"

"I know it probably won't be easy, but I want this too. I want you."

She spent so much of her time on guys who didn't care, who weren't after what she was after. Recently, Y/n had only gone out on dates because she thought she was crazy for developing feelings for someone she'd never met, but now...

She didn't even think it was possible, but Harry's grin widened, and when she leaned in again, he let her. They only kissed for a few minutes before Y/n pulled back with a start. "Wait!"

"What?"

She giggled, then smoothed the corner of his mouth where there was a little lip gloss. "You don't even know my name."

Realization dawned on Harry, as if he'd never even thought about calling her anything other than June, which was fine by her, but she figured he at least needed to know her real name.

"Oh right. I guess we should do this properly. I'm Harry, and I would very much like to take you out sometime."

Y/n grinned and awkwardly shook his hand while Harry was still on top of her. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Y/n, but you can call me June. Almost everyone does."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of nicknames," she said, looking at him oddly. "Why?"

"I want a name that's just mine," Harry said.

Running a hand through his hair, she said, "Well, can we kiss while you figure something out."

"Absolutely."

Twelve uninterrupted minutes. That's what Y/n and Harry got. He supposed they could've spent it talking, but they had plenty of time to talk. Harry just wanted to be close to her, and Y/n wanted the same.

It was weird to see her, to know she was June, and associate her with a different name. But not too bad that he needed a minute to think about it.

In twelve minutes, Harry was out of his shirt and Y/n was working on getting hers off. They knew better than to do anything more than that, but he liked seeing her in a way he never thought he would, and he could only imagine she felt the same. When Y/n finally managed to get her shirt over her head, Harry felt a bit like an ass for staring, but he couldn't help it. He was taking every inch of her in. Every curve, freckle and scar. Y/n squirmed a little under his gaze and attempted to cross her arms over herself, which was when he finally looked back up at her lovely face.

"Sorry. You're quite beautiful."

That wasn't a dick thing to say, right? He avoided stating the obvious, which was he wanted to put his mouth everywhere and didn't quite know where to start, but something crossed Y/n's face. Harry didn't quite know what it meant, but he would.

Though he did get a little worried he said the wrong thing, but before he could ask she pulled him down to her again.

All of that in twelve minutes. Harry wanted more, would've maybe gotten more, but the door to the tour bus flew open, and a voice drew nearer before either of them could separate.

"Harry? You in here? People are losing their minds because—Woah."

Harry was quick to maneuver himself in front of June as Niall's eyes fell on the two of them. He reached down and grabbed his shirt and shrugged it on. "Everyone can keep their pants on. I'm coming."

"Can you?"

"Niall!" Harry said, but June just giggled behind him. He looked back at her to see her smiling.

"It was a little funny."

Shaking his head, Harry leaned forward and kissed the top of hers. "I have to go—Can you give us a minute?" he asked, throwing a look over his shoulder at Niall.

"Yeah," he said, though most of it was covered up by laughter at having caught his friend. "Yeah, I'll—Wait a minute. Is that June?"

She peeked out behind Harry's shoulder. "Hello."

Harry's mind was alphabet soup for a moment while he tried to make sense of what was essentially his two worlds colliding. It would make sense that Niall knew June because he was always hanging out with the 5SOS boys.

"But what about that girl you've been moping about—"

"Niall."

"I'm going! I'm going! I gotta go tell Calum and the boys."

"Niall, no—And he's gone." Y/n sighed and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. Then she playfully pinched his side. "Moping?"

"Oh hush."

J: where are you?

HS: Radio interview. I'll be back soon.

HS: Why?

J: i was gonna do a little shopping. thought you might wanna join

J: BUT i will just go by myself

HS: Sorry. I'll see you after?

J: fiiine

HS: Okay I'm back. Where are you?

J: still shopping!

HS: All you buy are t-shirts. How does that take so long?

J: um...RUDE i guess i'll just put the super sexy panties away

HS: ...please don't hurry

J: that's what i thought

HS: I miss you :((

J: you saw me twenty minutes ago

HS: I want you in my bunk

J: a little late seeing as we're already on the road!

HS: :(((

J: everyone is going to hate me, but do you want me to call you?

HS: No it's fine.

HS: Can you switch buses at the next stop for gas?

J: you're unbelievable

J: yes of course

HS: :)))

HS: Louis wants you to know we're disgusting!

J: tell louis he can kiss my ass

HS: I will do no such thing. Your ass is mine

HS: Louis is right

J: we are disgusting

HS: So... I'll see you in a couple hours

J: can't wait xx

J: but until then (download image here)

and that's a wrap! i hope y'all enjoy the last part! thanks for all the love on this fic, everyone has been so sweet💕💕

tags:

@cookielovesbook-akie @sucker4angstt @l0v3e1i @bellesmith628 @marigold-morelli @obsessedmaggiemay @voniikg @onecrazydirectioner @unabashedcolorfrienddreamer @austinsvlrslut @iheartharlow @jessitpwk @fictionalmenloversblog @onceagainace @zucchinimalfoy @sqrxndipity @indierockgirrl @drwho06 @shakiraa-a @nomyeyebrowsarentreal @sleutherclaw @yeehawbrothers @harryspirate

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[camilaxmartin]

velvette stressing about a date with reader/getting ready

so stressed, obsessed

navigation // rules // masterlist

summary: how the getting ready for a date looks from velvette perspective

warnings: NOT PROOF READ; some cursing probably, you can count some parts as suggestive

note: i made headcanons out of this cause it fitted more for me (it just looks like headcanons it’s literally a one shot but let’s skip that) i was having a stressful night and just wanted to get it out:)

note 1.2: i love writing my princess as a mess cause as much as she loves being organised i can’t get messy velvette out of my head:) - it’s about balance yk?

requests: open!!

ღ | velvette was soo excited about the date and hear me out, so excited. of course, she was going on a lot of dates i mean look at this girl but this time it felt… different

ღ | the time you asked her out (cause we both know she wouldn’t do it if she actually liked someone and was nervous around them) she tried to play it off and it actually worked until you heard her little giggle when she thought you wouldn’t be able to hear it

ღ | the first thing she did after you’ve asked her out was literally stumble through her whole wardrobe to find something to wear that night you two were gonna meet up. she shuffled through all of her clothes and groaned in frustration as nothing was even close to being enough to what she had in mind for that night

ღ | velvette decided she was gonna try and make something to wear and the start of it was really promising, but soon after she got to like half the dress she thrown it out of her hands and groaned loudly not feeling like her skills were enough (which is fucking RARE for this girl)

ღ | she grabbed her phone and looked up some dresses online trying to find *the one* but nothing seemed right to her. she locked her phone and thrown it away on the ground, jumping on her bed and falling with her face right into her pillows. she wanted everything to be perfect and yet it felt like the whole hell was against her

ღ | soon after her mumbling to herself that everything is shit and she shouldn’t even go on this date, she fell asleep her hair getting out of control, as always when she slept without earlier preparation for it

ღ | the next morning she woke up on her own, her eyes opening slightly as she had no clue she had fallen asleep the day before. she sat up on her bed and unwilling stumbled out of it to grab her phone and check the time

ღ | her hair literally straightened out on its own when she saw the time. it was way too late for her usual routine and by now she should’ve been already in her studio preparing her show. she groaned, which was like literally the only noice she was making for the past two days, and send vox a quick message that she won’t be able to make it today so he has to think something out

ღ | she sighed as she thrown her phone away once again and laid back down starring at the ceiling, rethinking every decision she has ever made in her entire life

ღ | after about half an hour she was already in front of her wardrobe looking for something at least decent to wear for tonight. after many and i mean, many difficulties she has finally chosen a dress matching it with some high boots, a silky jacket and a small purse in the same color as that dress. she wasn’t fully proud and happy with the choice but it was the best she could do. she rolled her eyes throwing that outfit on her bed and stormed into her bathroom knowing she’s already way too behind in her daily routine

ღ | because she has fallen asleep yesterday without planning it first, she had no idea what hairstyle should she wear for tonight. i mean sure- she has thought about it a million times already but hasn’t decided on anything yet. she looked herself in the mirror her hands immediately touching her face in all the spots she wanted to change or just get fixed and sighed feeling her anxiety rising up

ღ | velvette shook her head, took out her phone putting on her favourite playlist to get ready, and undressed, getting into the shower and preparing for one of the longest showers of her life. she turned the water on, heat of it hitting her skin immediately as she sighed in pleasure, getting her favourite shampoo and razor from one of the shelves. she bubbled up her hair and rinsed it out almost immediately putting on some conditioner and making sure not to wet her hair for a while. she then get to washing and dolling up all of her body. she quickly shaved her legs, armpits and decided to shave between her legs as well i mean- you never know what can happen right? especially if you’re in hell

ღ | after removing all of that hair from her body, she rinsed herself off and put on body scrub, scrubbing all of her dead skin off and doing it a bit too aggressively for her liking but what you’re not doing for beauty right? she rinsed off the body scrub as well and finally cleaned her whole body with rose soap getting herself all nice and clean. then she rinsed the conditioner from her hair and washed it with shampoo one again

ღ | finally, she stopped the water and get out of the shower shaking her head before getting out. she grabbed her favourite towel and wrapped it around herself, grabbing a special towel for her hair and wrapping it up as well. she looked herself in the mirror once again and smiled, handing for a body cream to get herself even more soft than she already has been

ღ | after doing so, she took out her face cosmetics and washed her face, doing a face mask in the spare time and then putting on milion of her creams and serums to made sure she was perfect for tonight

ღ | she took a deep breath as she looked at the time and realised she had to fasten up the whole process a bit. she unwrapped her hair from the towel and thrown it on the glass of her shower to dry, as she shook her head once again to feel if her hair needs fake drying or not

ღ | velvette whined and walked out of her bathroom still wrapped in her towel, as she walked over to her wardrobe to pick out some underwear. she quickly decided on a red set with pink and blue hearts on it, and panties that didn’t leave much to imagine. she smirked looking down at it, hoping she wouldn’t wear it for nothing tonight as she walked back to her bathroom putting it on

ღ | being in only her underwear she got started on her makeup knowing it’s probably going to take up most of her time. she took out all of her cosmetics and stuff and got to work. she was singing along to her playlist and actually having a good time while putting all of it on, her mind letting her anxiety go down for a few moments. she was doing her usual routine with her makeup, but also added small hearts around her eyes, something she didn’t do normally, every one of them matching her eyeshadow

ღ | when she was done she looked at the time and realised she needed to be ready in about an hour. her eyes widened as she stormed out of the bathroom and grabbed her picked out outfit, walking over to the huge mirror in her room looking herself up and down. she smiled to herself seeing her body, she was never the one to be insecure about it or at least that’s what she was telling herself, and started putting on the dress having a little trouble with it as she was trying not to get it wet with her still wet hair. she let out a sigh as she managed to put on the dress without any unwanted problems and sat down on the floor to put on her boots. she bit her lip, her thoughts going to the planned date again as she felt her nerves rising again. she took a deep breath trying to calm herself but it did nothing. she zipped up one of her boots and looked at it in the mirror smiling and admitting to herself that it didn’t actually look as bad as she thought it did. she quickly put on the other boot and made a little spin in front of her mirror admiring how her look turned out

ღ | she took another deep breath and ran to the bathroom to dry her hair. she looked at the time and tried not to freak out more as the hour of your meeting was getting closer and closer. she took out the hairdryer from one of the cabinets and plugged it in, knowing it’s gonna take her a while to get at least a presentable hairstyle

ღ | she has been drying her hair and drying as finally they become fully dry. she smiled to herself in the mirror and when she glanced at the time she instantly freaked out. if she didn’t leave now, she’d be late. but her hair wasn’t fully done

ღ | velvette bite her lip and grabbed her phone writing you a message that she was gonna be late a bit and trying not to make it sound as nervous as she was feeling at that moment. did it work? you can just imagine how that message look, i mean it was something along the lines of:

hiya babes, i’m gonna be a little bit late, hope you will wait for me xx

or

i’m running late, so just wait for me and don’t you dare say anything about it when i finally get there, see ya xoxo

ღ | safe to say she was even more stressed out now. she quickly grabbed her hairbrush and started aggressively brushing her hair getting mad at herself more with every second and every brush passing. she let out a whine sounding like she was at the edge of crying and looked at herself in the mirror reminding herself, that she can’t cry now as it would ruin her makeup and she’d need even more time to fix it

ღ | velvette took a deep breath and grabbed another conditioner to style her hair. after a few moments she managed to pull her iconic two ponytails while leaving her bangs curled (like her natural hair, i have ep. 8 in mind)

ღ | she smiled to herself admiring how good she actually looked and quickly grabbed her phone storming out of her bathroom, grabbing her early picked-out jacket along with her purse and immediately left the vee’s building like it was literally on fire

ღ | as she was walking to the spot you two agreed on, she felt like her whole skin was on fire, her heart was pounding in her chest and the biggest lump was forming in her throat. she tried calming down as she started brainlessly scrolling through all of her social media’s but nothing seemed to help. she shoved her phone annoyed into her purse and cursed herself in her mind for choosing such a small one. her thoughts were getting louder and louder with every second, even starting to tell her that this whole date was a huge mistake and she shouldn’t have agreed to it

ღ | she was inside her head the whole time as she finally reached the spot you two chose and saw you standing before it, waiting for her yet not looking mad that she was late. her head became empty in a second and an uncontrollable smile creeped onto her face as she walked over to you with her usual confidence, yet her stomach was starting to fill up with butterflies. she finally reached you and greeted you with a small wave and a simple “hi” to which you immediately responded with another “hi”, wide smile and a wave back

ღ | velvette was sure there and then that no matter what outfit she would’ve picked or whatever hairstyle she pulled or if she even showed up two hours late looking like an old windbag (see what i did here?;) all of her doubts would leave instantly when she saw your beautiful smile that was apparently reserved for her only

ღ | the date, obviously, went amazingly and you guys picked out another day to meet up once again, despite the fact that that night velvette wasn’t alone walking back to the vee’s tower and definitely wasn’t the only one sleeping in her bed

ღ | the hopes she had while picking out the underwear before going out definitely got fulfilled

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #velvette x you #velvette x y/n #velvette one shot #velvette headcanons #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Ruby (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Hinata Shoyo x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.3k

tw: stalking, yandere themes, implied dub/non-con.

“I… have to go,” Kenma sighs. “Bye, Shoyo.” The last part’s tacked on like an afterthought, his attention already drawn over his shoulder, fixed on something Hinata can’t see. The source, no doubt, of those two loud thumps. 

Hinata doesn’t bother hiding his smile, signing off with a wave. It’s not the first time their video chats have ended this way, he’d wager it won’t be the last. Come to think of it, he had mentioned something about a stray a few weeks back. Maybe…

He shakes himself free of the thought, glancing down at the time on his open laptop and– shit. He’s gonna be late. 

It takes all of fifteen minutes for him to throw on some half decent clothes and bike across town. These days, with the sponsorships and all, he doesn’t have to work so hard, riding over town delivering food all night. 

He doesn’t have to, but he chooses to. 

On Friday nights, at least. Usually around six-thirty. He waits on the sidewalk, flicking through the app, declining, declining, declining, until he spots an all too familiar order. His face lights up. 

Accept. 

Being that he’s already parked out front of the restaurant, it means he’s got a little time to kill, but that’s cool, too. The staff know him by name, share knowing, vaguely amused looks when he pokes a head in to see where everything’s at. 

“Won’t be long, Shoyo,” one of them tells him, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he walks on by. They never actually ask which order he’s there to pick up.

And it’s habit, more than anything else, that has him checking said order when it’s called. Normally, a quick glance is all it needs, but… his smile fades, head tilting a little. There’s too much food. Almost twice the usual. 

The girl at the counter shrugs before he can even ask. “That’s the order we got. Girl’s probably got a friend coming for dinner.” Her eyebrows waggle, telling Hinata exactly what kind of friend she’s thinking of. “Either that or she’s real hungry.”

A wave of unpleasantness creeps under his skin, his insides twisting. He thanks her all the same, quick to bundle the food in the carry case and settle on his bike. By now, he knows the route like the back of his hand, he’s ridden it so often. He could do it blindfolded, in the dark–

… Were you having friends over? 

You don’t usually, not on Fridays. Sometimes you come back to the apartment tipsy and late, but you haven’t ever brought anyone back with you – aside from that one time, with the tall, loud girl who wouldn’t stop trying to drag you into impromptu karaoke. He’s never seen anyone else though. You’re like him, aren’t you? A creature of habit, routine. Six-thirty every Friday, the same order. 

Is it the tall girl again? Another of your girlfriends? 

Someone… else?

That uncomfortable feeling returns. Would it make a difference if it really was just a friend?

Before he knows it, Hinata’s out the front of your apartment, heart thudding away like his chest’s full of lead. Normally, you’re already there on the steps, waiting for him, because he knows you watch the tracking app like a hawk, because that’s what you do. That’s the routine – your routine; six-thirty, Friday night, you and him, on these steps. It’s his.

Hinata doesn’t realise his hands are shaking until he goes to grab your food.

“Shoyo?”

He whirls, expression bright. There you are. Lovely and beautiful in the golden light of dusk, smiling back at him like nothing’s wrong. The sight alone should ease the static beneath his skin, loosen the knots in his stomach, but it doesn’t. His smile feels too tight, his cheeks aching with it. 

Who are you having dinner with?

He doesn’t realise he’s actually spoken the words aloud until you blink at him, offering a somewhat sheepish reply. “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” How could he not? “A friend from back home. She’s staying with me for a few days, and since I apparently never shut up about this place, and it is a Friday night tradition…” you trail off, shrugging easily. “Here we are.”

Right. A friend from back home. Robotically his arm jerks forward, holding out the food for you to take. 

“Thanks for this,” you continue, blissfully unaware of the absolute, chaotic mess currently wreaking havoc inside of him. “It’s kinda weird, right, how you’re always the one picking up the order? They should really just cut out the middleman and hire you on retainer.” You’re joking, of course, the giggle tells him that much, and Hinata forces himself to chuckle along with you. 

“Same time next week, then?”

Do you hear the same faint tinge of desperation he does? He really, really hopes not. 

“You betcha,” you shoot back with a wink that seizes his heart with an invisible fist, already turning to make your way back inside to the warmth of your apartment. To the friend from back home who’s no doubt waiting for you.

From up above, a shadow moves across the window he knows is yours.

Not a date, Hinata reminds himself, just some nameless, faceless girl she used to know. One who’ll be gone soon enough. Back home, away from you. 

Honestly, it should be a relief. 

So why does it feel like his blood’s about to boil? Like the floor just opened up beneath him and everything’s falling apart? Standing on the sidewalk, hands flexed at his sides, his breath comes out in short, choppy pants. 

On wooden legs, he stumbles back to his bike. Kicks a leg over the frame and settles himself down, hands wrapped around the handlebars in a white knuckled grip. And still, he doesn’t move.

He can’t even think over the deafening roar in his head. 

This – Fridays – they’re his. Yours, yes, but his, too. And this girl, she’s… she’s intruding. She doesn’t belong. She shouldn’t be there.

And if she’s up there, what’s to stop others from stealing as well? 

Across the street, there’s a sudden banging noise, and Hinata turns just in time to see a scrawny looking tabby dart through the mouth of an alleyway. A stray.

For a while, longer than he’d probably like to admit, Hinata stares after it, his brain ticking over.

With one last, lingering glance up at your window, he huffs out a sigh and pushes off.

—

One thing Hinata learned during his stint as a delivery driver is that if you buzz the wrong apartment and someone’s home, more often than not they’ll let you in anyway. 

It’s only Wednesday. He’d been good, waited the four agonising nights while your friend took up space in your apartment. But she left today, and Hinata knows you, knows that you’re probably exhausted from having to put up with her, that you don’t have any plans tonight other than curling up on your couch and watching TV. 

You won’t mind him showing up instead, even if he maybe – probably – should’ve waited ‘til Friday. 

The food he’s got isn’t from your favourite restaurant, either, it’s from his, and he’s pretty confident you’re gonna love it. He brought flowers, too. Just in case. 

Excitement thrums through his veins, jittery and bright, and, unable to help himself, he bounces on his toes.

You answer the door wearing pyjama shorts and an worn, faded tee and Hinata beams because you’ve never looked prettier, even when that cute little crinkle scrunches between your eyebrows, “Shoyo, what–”

Right now, he’s supposed to say something charming, or funny, maybe. Something to smooth out the confused expression he doesn’t wanna call a frown. He should be a gentleman – he got the flowers and the food, he even went out and bought the fancy, expensive cologne Heitor recommended because Nice goes nuts for it. 

There was a plan. Or, sort of a plan.

It didn’t involve him dropping the flowers and the food on the floor, lurching forward like a man possessed to haul you into a scorching, life-altering kiss, pushing you back into your apartment and kicking the door shut behind him, but holy shit–

It absolutely should’ve.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere hinata shoyo #yandere hinata shoyo x reader #etched in red #yandere hinata #yandere hinata x reader #tw: dubcon

[atinylittlepain]

gif by @manny-jacinto

Baby Blue - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

Joel loses a bet to Ellie and is forced to chaperone a dance in Jackson. He might not mind it as much when he sees that their pretty neighbor is also chaperoning.

warnings | 18+ light on the angst, heavy on fluff, SMUT

a/n | this can be read as a standalone or as a continuation of Sweetness, it's just fun either way :)

..................

Joel lost a bet. He had taken Ellie out to practice her shooting, lining up old cans as targets. She was getting a little too cocky about her aim, so he had upped the ante, moving the still-standing cans a few more yards away, stacking them in a pyramid. 

“If you’re so good, kid, I’d like to see you hit just that top can there.” He pointed out to the can on top of the stack. Ellie scoffed.

“Easy. You don’t think I can do it, old man?” He just shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, crossing his arms over his chest. Ellie was grinning.

“Do you bet I can’t do it?” She had caught him that day in a half-decent mood, so for once, he was game to play along.

“What’s your wager, kid?” She thought for a moment, before her eyes lit up wildly and she fixed him with a grin. Joel was suddenly a lot less interested in playing along.

“If I hit that can, you gotta sign up to chaperone the dance they’re throwing next week.” Joel actually groaned at that. When he had heard from Maria about their plan to host a makeshift prom for all the high-school-aged kids in the town, Joel had thought to himself that there might not be anything he missed less than the concept of a bunch of hormonal teenagers nervously fucking around in a humid gymnasium for a whole night. He had chaperoned one dance before, Sarah’s first and only homecoming, and his heart seized at the memory of how he almost blew a gasket watching Matthew Brown getting a little too handsy with his daughter. Needless to say, when they had asked at the next town meeting for adults to volunteer to chaperone, Joel had not offered his services up.

“Ellie, there’s gotta be something else. I’m not going anywhere near that dance.”

“Well if you’re so sure I’m gonna miss, what’s it matter anyways?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“And if you miss, what do I get?” 

“If I miss, I’ll stop bugging you about your very obvious crush on our neighbor.” Ellie hadn’t let up about the young woman next door, not since Joel’s fake birthday when she had helped Ellie bake that cake for him. What the girl didn’t know was that the pair had shared a kiss that night, but since then, Joel had been hopeless. He’d greet her whenever he saw her around, and they’d exchange a few nice words, but everytime he talked to her his brain went fuzzy with the memory of that night, and he’d yet to “make a move” as Ellie had been goading him to do ever since.

“Alright, kid. Let’s see what you got I guess.” They shook on it. Joel wasn’t really worried about it. Hell, he didn’t even think he could make that shot, and if it meant getting Ellie off his back about their pretty neighbor, he was game.

He had sorely underestimated the kid, which was why he found himself in the old Jackson rec center gymnasium on a Saturday night, watching a bunch of puberty-ridden children of the apocalypse dance with each other to old cassette tapes from the eighties. This certainly hadn’t been on his end-of-the-world bingo sheet. 

He leaned back against the cement wall, his eyes scanning the crowd for Ellie until he found her awkwardly dancing with Dina. At least he didn’t have to worry about Matthew Brown tonight. It was mostly other women chaperoning, and they had all given him weird looks when he came to volunteer. He had thought to himself that next time, he’d move the cans a lot further away.

But then he saw her on the other side of the gym, his lovely neighbor in an equally lovely light blue dress. The dress itself wasn’t anything special, a short-sleeved thing that fell at her shins, but on her, Joel reckoned it was still the prettiest thing he’d seen in at least the last twenty years. Her eyes met his from across the gym and she smiled brightly, already walking over towards him as Joel’s brain began to blare the oh shit alarm. She sidled up next to him, bumping her shoulder into his.

“Joel Miller, can’t say I was expecting to see you here. You lose a bet or something?” His eyes went wide as he looked at her. She just laughed.

“Sorry, I had to. Ellie told me.” He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“That kid is gonna be the death of me.” She shrugged, offering him a grin.

“She’s certainly a spitfire, that one. You know, she always asks me if I’ve talked to you lately, always telling me that you’d like to see me.” Joel felt absolutely mortified, his eyes sweeping anywhere but towards her to hide his embarrassment. He caught Ellie’s gaze out of the crowd, and the girl looked so smug he’d like to dissolve into nothing on the spot. That damn kid. He shook his head, turning his attention back to his neighbor and trying to pull himself together. He cleared his throat.

“You, um, you look real nice.” Her smile started to ease the panicky feeling in his chest. She lightly swayed the skirt of her dress.

“Traded some of the tomatoes I’ve been growing this summer for it. Certainly not the same as what I wore to my own prom, but I guess it works for a chaperone.” He offered her a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck and watching her smooth her hands down the skirt of her dress.

“Do you remember much of your own prom?” She laughed.

“Oh yeah. I wore this awful shiny purple dress and had matching butterfly clips in my hair. My date’s cufflink actually got stuck in one when he tried to pull a move in the back of the limo we rented, nearly scalped me he yanked so hard.” Joel couldn’t help the laugh that came out at that.

“Sounds memorable. I take it your date didn’t get too far in, uh, making his move?” She just let out a low whistle, shaking her head and swaying into his side again.

“What about you? Do you remember your prom?” He sighed, altogether liking the feeling of her shoulder continuing to brush into his too much.

“Hmm, I think mine was a little before your time. To be honest I don’t think we even made it to the dance, just ended up, uh, parking.” He blushed furiously as he got the words out, instantly regretting it. She just hummed.

“Wow, didn’t take you to be that kinda guy, Miller. I’m scandalized.” He could see by the smile threatening to creep onto her face that she was kidding. 

“Did you at least wear a suit?” He scoffed.

“Of course. Gotta wear a suit to prom. I wasn’t that much of a heathen.” She quirked her brow at him.

“What color?”

“Blue.” “Navy?” 

“Uh, not quite.”

“Like a royal blue then?” Joel just sighed, his shoes suddenly very interesting to him.

“No. You’re not telling me you wore a baby blue suit to prom are you?” He huffed.

“It was the 80s, alright? Everyone was wearing them, thought it was cool.” Her laugh was big and bubbling, eyes crinkling up as she looked at him in disbelief. She finally caught herself, resting her hand on his bicep and giving it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I just– never in a million years would I have pictured you in a baby blue suit and now I’m probably gonna be imagining it until the day I die.” He shook his head, not able to fight the smile breaking out at her delight in teasing him. He willed her to keep her hand on his arm, and she did, curling her fingers lightly and letting out a sigh.

“Laugh all you want, but my date thought I looked good that night.” She hummed, tilting her head up at him.

“I’ll buy that. But you look pretty good tonight too.” He choked on an inhale. He knew her flirting was entirely gratuitous, all he had on was a button down and jeans, the same thing he wore everyday. She leaned into his side.

“Whaddaya say, Miller. Will you be my prom date?” He let out a breathy laugh, feeling the blush creeping up his neck again. Maybe it was the sound of “the Cure” fizzing in the background, or the dizzy feeling he was getting watching the swish of the hem of her dress around her bare legs, but Joel finally decided to go for it. He tilted his head down to catch her gaze, a wry smile cracking across his face.

“I’m flattered, darlin. Thought you’d never ask.” The grin she gave him was her brightest yet, and Joel felt like he was melting on the spot.

They spent a while like that, leaning into each other against the back wall and snickering about nothing, lobbing flirtations back and forth. One of the other chaperones stopped by and slipped her a flask that they started passing between them, warmth quickly settling into both their features. Joel hadn’t felt this at ease in a long time, with her arm slung around his shoulders like they were the only two people in the room. She sighed resting her cheek on his arm as he glanced down at her.

“You know, even after he yanked my hair, my date still tried to make another move.” Joel scoffed but she just nodded.

“Mmhmm, he dragged me into the men’s bathroom, tried to get me to give him a handjob, pfft. I smacked him in the face and left right then and there, had to call my mom to come get me.” She laughed, but Joel wasn’t finding anything funny about it. Even though it had been at least two decades ago, and whoever this punk was had probably long been turned into a walking mushroom, Joel still briefly felt a twinge in his chest that he’d like to knock the guy’s lights out. He felt ridiculous, instead drawing his attention back to her and tentatively letting his hand wrap around her waist.

“That’s a really shitty prom memory.” And then, his tongue loosened by whatever they had been swigging from that flask, he said something way too bold.

“You wanna make a better one?” Her fingers stilled where they had been lightly playing with his shirt collar. She was just as shocked as him at his words, but she quickly caught herself, melting back into a smile.

“Well, depends who I’m making it with.” Joel was already slipping his hand into hers and turning heel to tug her along behind him out of the gym and into the hallway. Her breathy laugh of his name made his heart kick inside his chest. He was startled however, once they got out into the empty hall as she pulled him back towards her, tripping over his feet until they crashed together in a kiss. His hands quickly found purchase on her waist as she tugged him down by the hair at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help the low groan that thrummed through his throat when she licked into his mouth. She pulled back with a wet click of spit, taking a big gasp of air. Joel’s knees felt weak at the sight of her, lips swollen and parted, chest heaving in her pretty blue dress. 

They were interrupted however, by the sound of chatter spilling out of the gym and into the hall. Joel’s eyes landed on another door, pulling her behind him and into what must have once been a supply closet. Luckily, when he flipped the lightswitch it worked, and they were back on each other in an instant, a tangle of tongues that was admittedly taking him right back to his highschool years. He walked her back until she was pressed up against the door, their hips slotting together, seeking more however they could get it. Her hands were grazing up and down his chest, sliding along the waist of his jeans in a way that was making him feel dizzy. His palms started to wander as well, from her waist down to the swell of her thighs, making her gasp when he squeezed the softness there before dipping around to her ass and he thought to himself that she was perfect in his hands. 

He was snapped out of the swimming reverie that was kissing her when he felt her fingers starting to work at his belt buckle. He was quick to take both her wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the door. She huffed at him and he could only breathily laugh at her frustrated expression

“Nuh-uh, darlin. This one’s gonna be all you, alright?” She smiled, her head lolled to one shoulder.

“We gonna go parking after this, prom date?” Joel grinned, already kneeling down in front of her.

“Something like that.” While he may have felt like he was back in highschool, he still had his very-much-not-teenaged knees and back to deal with and he was feeling it as he got down on the floor in front of her. He figured the pain would be worth it.

His palms gently curled around her ankles, skimming up along her calves and the backs of her thighs as he rucked up her dress along with him. Her breath hitched when his hands squeezed at her hips, not taking her eyes away from his as he thumbed at the band of her underwear.

“Is this ok?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. He gave her hips a harsh squeeze that made her gasp.

“Need you to tell me, darlin, please.” She drew one of her hands to card through his hair, tugging lightly at the scalp to get him to tilt his head up towards her. Her eyes were blown wide, and she squirmed in his grip. Joel felt like his head was going to explode just looking at her.

“It’s good, Joel. I want it, want you, please.” It was all he needed to hear, laying an open-mouthed kiss to the top of one of her thighs before sliding her underwear down her legs and helping her step out of them on wobbly feet. He drew the hem of her dress back up and she seemed to get the hint, bunching it up in one fist to keep it out of the way for him. He let his mouth wander up the plush inside of her thigh, breath grazing over her cunt in a way that made her shiver in his grasp. When he dipped away, however, trailing down her other leg, she breathed out a long whine. At that, he let his teeth graze her skin, nipping just a bit unkindly at the softness.

“Patience, prom queen, I’m getting there.” She scoffed.

“Oh, I’m prom queen now?” She went to say something smart, but was cut off with a broken gasp when he finally dragged his tongue through her folds.

“I’d sure give you the crown, darlin.” With that, he dipped back into her heat, drawing his tongue up from her fluttering entrance to her clit and swiping over the bundle of nerves there. He could feel her thighs shaking where his rough palms were splayed, and he drew her one leg by the back of her knee over his shoulder to open her up even more to him. She keened into his mouth, sighing out soft curses mixed with his name as he worked her over. It wasn’t lost on Joel that it had been a long time since he had done anything like this, but judging from the way she was tugging on his hair and canting her hips into him he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Fuck, Joel– want m-more– please– need more.” He rested his cheek on the swell of her thigh, bringing a hand up and slipping two of his fingers into her tight heat. The moan she let out was more of a cry at that, and Joel’s head went swimmy again at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

“Want you to come for me, darlin. I know you can. You wanna come for me?” She nodded frantically at his goading words, and Joel dipped his face back between her legs to lick harsh stripes against her clit as his fingers continued to steadily pump her. He came up for air for a moment, watching her face scrunched in pleasure above him, the sight made his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Please, baby, come for me. Just let go, pretty.” It was all it took to send her over the edge, her hips jerking in his grip and her cunt pulsing around his fingers as he fucked her through it. She let out a few warbly gasps of his name, tugging his hair to get him to stop working her over through the sensitivity. He finally pulled away and she hissed as he helped her get her foot back on the ground, slumping back against the door and gazing down at him with a hazy smile, her dress fluttering back down around her legs. Joel stood with a groan, his knees screaming in protest but he was quickly distracted by her pulling him in by his collar for a stomach-churning kiss. She pulled away with a gasp, eyes searching his.

“Joel, wanna feel you please. Want you to fuck me.” He groaned at that, dipping his forehead to rest on her shoulder and shaking his head lightly. She stilled in his grasp, and when he looked up at her again, a worried look had settled over her face. He couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh that rumbled in his chest, that this woman standing before him actually wanted him that much. The furrow between her brow deepened, but he was quick to lay a kiss there, stroking the arc of her cheek with his thumb.

“I want you too– believe me. But I’ll be damned if the first time I have you is in a fucking supply closet.” She let out a wild laugh at that, her eyes crinkling up as she looked at him and a warmth melted through Joel’s chest at the sound. 

“You know, I thought you were kidding about the whole parking thing.” Joel grunted, stealing another kiss from her before guiding her out of the closet.

“Fuck parking, I’m gonna take you home, darlin, if that’s alright with you?” They were already walking out of the gym but she still squeezed his hand and shot him a wicked grin.

“Sounds good, prom date, lead the way.” 

When one of the chaperones checked the door that had been left ajar, they were only slightly horrified to find a pair of panties strewn on the supply closet floor.

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 5

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, slight slut-shaming, brief mention of death, minors do not interact

word count: 2.3k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the isa song “sometimes you lose your soulmates”

Present Day 

Though you didn’t exactly enjoy Mondays, it was at least the one day of the week when you got to wake up naturally instead of at the crack of dawn. Your first class isn't until noon, so when you wake up at 9:30 in the morning, you decide to get your day started early. 

You weren’t always the type of person to completely do themselves up just to go to class. Maybe in freshman year for the first few weeks, but you were a seasoned vet now. Most of the time, some leggings and a simple shirt or sweater sufficed. But after such a shitty weekend, you figure you could at least make yourself feel good by looking good. 

After half an hour of getting ready, you look yourself over in the bathroom mirror. You smile, fairly satisfied with your appearance. Despite the cold breezes of Saturday night, the forecast called for a rare warm day. As a result, you allowed yourself a floral sundress, decorated with a puffy knitted, button-up jacket on top of it in case the season’s true weather decided to show. A pair of simple white sneakers finished your outfit; not the most stylish, but practically, you still had to walk around campus. 

Your lips shine from the bit of lip gloss you’d applied. You’d only applied some light mascara on today (you figured that your Literature and Sexuality class did not warrant your bold, false eyelashes). You’d lightly painted your eyes with colours that complemented those of your sundress, blending them seamlessly onto your eyelids. As you did this, that one memory that was prodding you two days ago became clearer. 

“I have no idea how you do that so naturally, dude.” Ellie’d said, watching you in awe from the foot of your bed. 

Her ocean green eyes watched the meticulous strokes of your makeup brush applying eyeshadow to your lids. It was early on in your “friendship” and it was still a couple more weeks of her calling you “dude” before you became “babe” and “baby.” 

“It’s not that hard, honestly. Just takes some practice.” You’d said, trying to keep your hand steady as you grew nervous under Ellie’s watchful gaze. 

“Nah, it’s natural talent. You’re an artist.” She’d replied. 

You’d scoffed, saying, “Ellie, all I’m doing is my makeup. You’re the actual artist, remember?” 

“No,” She’d shaken her head. “I just draw. You’re the artist here.” She’d said decidedly, eyes full of admiration as she continued to stare. 

You’d blushed furiously then, and you would continuously do so when you’d replay that memory the months following after. 

But it was two years later and now, the memory instead has you staring at your reflection tight-lipped and frowning. 

Why is she still everywhere? 

It was roughly a fifteen to twenty-minute walk from your apartment to the university. You lived in an off-campus apartment complex that was in a decent location from both the school and a downtown area nearby. It was less convenient than living on campus like several of your friends still did, and this certainly wasn’t what you’d had in mind when you were planning out your social college experience. But after the freshman year events of Rafael’s death and Ellie’s abandonment, you were far more comfortable where you were. 

You liked walking anyway. You found solace in the strolls you took, accompanied only by your thoughts and headphones. 

About five minutes into your trek to campus, you pull out your phone to text your friend Tara. 

A couple of minutes later, you were just officially entering the campus when Tara texts you back. 

You continue walking as you frown down at your phone. Dina had spent most of the previous day at your place, cheering you up and taking your mind off Ellie. Your group chat with your other friends was blowing up and by the end of the night when Dina had left, you were overwhelmed by the amount of unread texts you had. The group chat remained unopened until right now. 

The chat consisted of your friends Tara, Sidney, Astrid, Rebecca, Kristen, and Mina. You’d met them all in freshman year. Tara was your assigned roommate and Astrid was Dina’s. They were all initially casual friends, ones that you saw on a usual basis and got along well with, but they weren’t necessarily very close. You were better friends with the gang from Jackson. But after you came back to campus for sophomore year, you detached yourself slightly from Dina and Jesse, knowing full well that Ellie had them first. They both tried to remain closer to you; but they remained inseparable from their childhood best friend, not fully knowing what events led to what “broke up” you two. It wasn’t the same and it was a much different dynamic with this other friend group, but the girls were there for you all the same. 

Reluctantly, you click on the group chat named “Wilson Crew ❤️‍🔥” (Wilson Valley had been the name of the freshman dorm building most of you had resided in the first year). Scrolling up to where you’d left off, you scan the messages your friends had left the previous day. Your eyes grow wider and wider the more you read. 

The previous day, Tara, who worked at a campus coffee shop called Ruston Coffee, was tasked to train a new girl. To her, your other friends’, and now your shock, the new girl Tara was training was Freshman Girl. The same Freshman Girl who stayed glued to Ellie’s side for most of Saturday night. The same Freshman Girl who drooled over Ellie’s every word and move. The same Freshman Girl that mistook your Ellie’s signature lavender-laced joints as lilac. The same Freshman Girl who wore Ellie’s old motorcycle jacket the entire night. 

It turned out Freshman Girl did have a name: Daniela. Your friends had sent messages with different levels of shock and horror. Kristen called her a whore, to which Sidney agreed, to which Astrid reprimanded and told them both to be nice. Mina sent memes as a response. Tara also texted that Daniela would be working with her again today. 

You look up. Ruston Coffee is just down the way. You don't have to go in. You can skip coffee for today and hide out in the library instead. 

“I’m not expecting you and Ellie to magically make up. I won’t try to get into the middle of it because I know that’s between you two. But you definitely need to figure out this out, babe. This doesn’t seem like something that should remain unresolved.” Dina’d said.

“But don’t also let it affect all the other parts of your life, okay?" She continued. "She shouldn’t be stopping you from hanging out with me and Jess more often or going out to parties we’re at or anything that involves Ellie in some way. Don’t let her stop you from enjoying your life.” 

And Ellie certainly shouldn’t stop you from getting coffee. If you want to get a coffee and relax before class, Ellie should not be getting in the way of that. 

You take a deep breath and march towards the coffee shop, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack and feet stomping in rhythm to good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo blasting loudly through your headphones. 

A bell above the door tinkles as you enter Ruston Coffee. The shop was a little busy, most seats taken up by other students sitting with their laptops or biding time before class. There's a line of people by the register and you begin approaching it until you hear your name being called. 

Your friend Tara waves you over by the counter where orders are usually dropped off. In one of her hands is a straw and your ready-made mocha frappe. 

“You’re the literal best, Tara.” You sigh, pulling your headphones off and walking up to her. 

She hands you your coffee order. 

“No problem.” She says, smiling. “You know that I don’t mind.”

“Thank you for indulging in my caffeine addiction,” You say, whipping out your phone and sending her $6. 

Tara frowns and says, “You better not have given me a $3 tip this time.” 

You sip from your straw. 

“Dude!” Tara reprimands, laughing. 

“$2 tip!” You say, defensively. 

“Just for a $4 coffee.” She chides, shaking her head. 

You shrug. 

“So uh,” Tara begins, her voice lowered slightly. “Did you see what I said in the group chat yesterday? Cause you weren’t responding.” 

You gulp. 

“Uhh. Yeah, I did, just now. Sorry, Dina was at my place yesterday, so I was busy—” 

“Nah nah, it’s cool, man. But like. You saw what I said about that girl, right?” 

“Is she here?” You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“Not yet. But—” Tara checks her watch. “—she’s supposed to be here in less than five minutes or so.” 

Fuck. 

“Oh, okay.” You gulp, your heart rate increasing. 

“Are you okay, dude?” Tara asks. 

“No, yeah, I’m fine.” You lie. “How did training her yesterday go?” 

Tara crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. 

“Literally the worst. She kept on looking at her phone instead of listening, she left one AirPod in her ear the whole time, she kept asking when we were gonna be done. And now I have to go through it all again once she gets here.” 

You give Tara a sympathetic look. 

“I hate that,” You say, sucking on your teeth. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, not hire her?” 

“We’re short-staffed as fuck, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Tara sigh. 

One of Tara’s co-workers comes up behind her and attempts to elbow her ribs which she dodges easily. 

“Get back to work, Maclay.” He says, putting down two cups of coffee next to her before heading back towards the register. 

“Fuck off, Khanh!” She replies, shooting a middle finger to his back. 

“Should I let you get back to work?” You ask. 

“Nah,” Tara reassures. “I wanna shit talk this Daniela girl first before I have to deal with her this morning.” 

“Do you know how often she’s gonna be working with you?” You inquire. 

“I’m not sure yet, but if Bonnie thinks she’s gonna stick me with a lazy new girl this early in the year—” 

You hear the bell above the door tinkle as someone enters the coffee shop. Both you and Tara look instinctively at the new arrival. Tara groans silently and your throat goes dry. 

Freshman Girl Daniela walks in. Wearing Ellie’s jacket once again. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Crap, I gotta go now, I guess.” Tara whines begrudgingly. 

“Y-yeah…” You say, unable to take your eyes off of that same jacket that used to often adorn your shoulders back in your freshman year. You hate that it looked good on Daniela. 

“I’ll see you later, dude.” Tara says, wrenching her elbows off the counter and walking towards the register. 

“Good luck.” You reply. 

You aren't exactly subtle with your stare, but thankfully Daniela doesn't seem to notice. It's a little different seeing her now in the daytime. She was very pretty, you have to admit to yourself. She has a short, pixie cut that complements her sharp bone structure. She's wearing a bright yellow tank top below Ellie’s jacket that clings to her lean figure, making her stand out slightly. The light makeup she has on looks so simple and natural. 

Daniela wasn’t Ellie’s first conquest since you ended things with her. She didn’t waste much time dating around after you all came back for your sophomore year. You’d avoided her as much as possible so you wouldn't have to come face-to-face with the girls she’d get involved with. You still heard about them, of course, and you were sure there were even more than the ones you’d known about. 

But Daniela was the first you were forced to encounter. You weren’t prepared to be thrust right into Ellie’s love life once more. But here you are, staring at the most recent fling of the girl who you were once so desperately in love with. 

As Daniela lazily makes her way through the shop towards the back, you eventually tear your eyes off her and head straight for the exit. 

♫ Maybe she’ll come through / If he waits some more 

But she doesn’t / No, she doesn’t ♫ 

You're leaning against one of the trees in the quad, backpack laid next to you and headphones back on your ears. Your next class is in the building right behind you, but you still have a while until it started. 

♫ It’s not like the movies / Like you dream it’ll be 

Sometimes you lose your soulmates / And sometimes they leave ♫

Your journal and pen are laid out on your lap but abandoned as your fingers pick at the grass around you. Your mostly empty coffee cup sits next to you, condensation dripping into the soil. Your eyes are completely glazed over, watching the clouds in the sky. 

♫ She’s not a girl you forget / She’ll run through your head 

With all of the moments / You loved but now dread 

To remember / Burning like—♫ 

Your hands and voice react quicker than your mind does. Your sudden movements cause your headphones to fall onto your neck. After a second, you realize that you had shrieked and that your hands had flown up to your face to catch something. As you bring the object down to look at it, you realize it was a football. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to see a tall girl in a dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants jogging towards you, a dirty blonde braid bouncing behind her. 

“Abby?”

author's notes:

sorry for the delay in uploading this! i'm back from my brief vacation, and after i settled in after getting home, i almost immediately plopped down in front of my laptop to finalize this ldksfjsdlkds

not very chockful of ellie in this chapter, i know, i'm sorry! y'all got plenty last chapter! but don't worry, more will be coming up soon. i just enjoy keeping y'all in suspense.

i just wanna mention that most (if not all) of the names that i use in this fic are picked out people in the games themselves. also tara's last name is maclay as an homage to my lesbian queen tara maclay from buffy the vampire slayer. she's not the same character obvi, but i just enjoy putting in the reference :)

freshman girl aka daniela may have been named after and based on some whore girl that my ex left me for and that i'm still bitter about it oops

i hope y'all enjoyed the surprise guest appearance at the end of this chapter! she will be integrated further into the story from this point on, so stayed tuned :)

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @oatmilkchaii, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #Spotify #audio #belle speaks #v #belle writes

[m3talmunson]

Steve Harrington except his mom comes from old money, his father new. So while Steve's mom took his father's last name (reluctantly. She was doing her best to promise that her son would have a good life ahead of him), she got to choose Steve's first, which just happens not to be Steve.

His name is actually Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, because by God, Maria Harrington would never let her son have an English name since she had to give up her own to promise her son a decent life.

Somewhere along the way she got lost in it all. She chased Mr. Harrington around to make sure he wasn't sleeping with whatever floozie secretary he had at the moment, and in doing so she forgot to be a mother - as much as somebody can just forget that duty.

So, one day Esteban got dropped off at his grandpa's house and became Steve. Then one day Steve's grandfather died and Steve didn't even see his father at the funeral. His father, the dead man's son, sent Maria with flowers to the funeral. Flowers she didn't have a destination for. So, the moment it was over she dragged Steve and the flowers back to the dust-covered Harrington home. She makes some dinner and has a nice night with her son, but as they curl up on the couch and try to settle for the night, she brings him up.

"Mijo, your father. I have to go back to him tomorrow. I have a plane ride in the morning. I have to go sweetheart." She blinks back the tears in her eyes as she delivers the news.

"It's ok mama! I'm 10 now, double digits." He holds out both of his hands, all of his fingers splayed out. "I can take care of things here." He put on his best brave face, something Grandpa Harrington taught him.

"Grandma is going to visit you as much as she can, but she doesn't live near here. You'll be on your own a lot, my sweet sweet boy." She let the tears run at this point, ignoring the musical she had put on the TV to occupy their thoughts.

"Don't cry mama," He curled up into her side. "Wait, Grandma? But she's been gone for longer than Grandpa?"

"No, no, my mama. She'll be up here every so often for you. My brave boy." She kissed the top of Steve's head, peppered a few more against Steve's complaints of tickling.

"Come on mama, Dolly's singing!" He said, and drew his attention back to the TV like it was nothing. They fell asleep on the couch that night. Mr. Harrington never would have approved, but maybe he just didn't need to know.

And that began the life of Steve being alone. At least, most of the time. His grandma did come up every so often. She taught him how to cook, clean, where the stools were, and which ones were tall enough for him to reach the cookie jar. The same cookie jar that stayed in place just incase his parents did come home and happen to give half a shit about it.

When she couldn't be there, over the phone, she taught her little Esteban Spanish. His father never allowed it in the house, but the moment she insisted she be called Abuelita and not Grandma, she piqued Esteban's interest.

He was interested until he got made fun of for the accent. He continued to learn it, but insisted that he be called Steve, the same way she insisted he call her something else. That set the record straight for him.

During high school, she got too frail for him to visit. The Harrington's put money in the bank for Steve, so he began to visit her. He'd fly down to where she was staying, drive once he could. Steve got his license the very first day he could, just to visit her. He planned her funeral when the day came, just a month before Will Byers went missing. That kept him in contact with quite a few of his cousins that way, checked in on everyone and made the rounds while he tried to remain a normal teenager, have a normal girlfriend, live as King Steve, or Steve "The Hair" Harrington. Anything that kept his life nice and neatly in place.

Then, a stupid nail bat was his lifeline. Screw normal, he couldn't trust anyone or anything anymore. Two years later, he got tortured by Russians and then, maybe he could trust someone.

Somewhere between his fall from grace and saving the world for good, he grew to trust a lot of people. Grew to have people at his house all the time, filling that god awful empty house.

He had Eddie over one night when he got a call from his cousin Mariana, she had just finished her freshman year of college in the US, so her English was getting pretty good, but she greeted him in Spanish so he can only return the favor. Steve guessed it was only a matter of time until Eddie and the others found out about him anyways.

So, he responded to Mariana. He had an entire conversation with her, back to the couch that Eddie was sat on. Last he knew Eddie was flipping through movies, but all the noises stopped. At least Steve could assume that maybe he just picked a movie, and maybe get hurt or yelled at or something after the call. He just had to get through this conversation with Mariana.

He heard the crash of tapes falling and had to end it.

"Sorry Mari, I've got to go." He said abruptly in English, and tried his hardest not to slam the phone back into the receiver.

When he turned around, he didn't expect what he saw. Sure, Eddie's jaw was basically on the floor, but he didn't seem angry, not like Steve had expected.

"You- you speak Spanish, Stevie?" Eddie had almost a shocked rasp to his voice, clutching onto the tape in his hand, the one that managed to not fall.

"Yeah, have for about 8 or 9 years now."

"You, Steve Harrington, are fluent in Spanish?"

"Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, actually. And yeah, my mom is Mexican."

"Est- Esteban???" Eddie laughed out. "Good God Stevie-"

"I know, I know, I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hide it, I just- it's hard walking around Hawkins with a Spanish accent, it's just so-" He interrupted Eddie.

"Steve, Stevie, no." It was Eddie's turn to interrupt. "I'm not mad at you sweetheart. Definitely not mad." Eddie hinted at something else.

"You're not mad? What- I-" Steve raised his eyebrow. "What's that look about then?"

Eddie had been out to Steve for a while, and vice-versa. They hadn't exactly not been flirting, so Eddie didn't feel too crazy saying this next part.

"If I'm being so honest, Stevie," Eddie stepped closer into Steve's personal space, "I wouldn't say completely platonic feelings."

"Oh, that's what does it for you, Munson? Really?" Steve teased. Back with the bravado charm.

"I dunno... want to say some more?"

And, of course, the moment he hears it again -the accent Steve's voice works itself into- he's basically frothing at the mouth. He drops the tape he was holding and swings his arms around Steve's neck, only a little awkward considering the lack of height difference.

"I guess it is, Esteban."

"You don't even know what I said!" Steve pretended to act shocked, or pissed or something, but he really didn't care.

"Tell me later," Eddie cut Steve off with a swift kiss, and maybe Steve would settle for later.

Maybe he'd have a lifetime to tell Eddie that all he said was "I really want to kiss you." He had his wish fulfilled anyway.

#guys i did so much research on the meanings of hispanic names for this bc i needed his names to have meaning. it was so important to me #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #steve harringtons parents #steve harringtons mom #latino steve harrington #bc i said so #pls excuse any typos i am 👍🏻 stupid #theo if u see this i will sob

[klbwriting]

Surface Tension

Chapter 1: Great Unknown

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: none yet, will have fluff and mild smut later

Summary: Y/N has lived on the surface for nearly 10 years after she was unwittingly a part of an assassination attempt on the then King of Atlantis Orm Marius. She has hidden away in a small coastal town in Maine, living as a human and building a simple but decent life in a duplex on the beach. Then one day someone moves in to the other half of the duplex. She goes to greet them only to discover it's Orm himself.

Note: Here it is! Orm on the surface! I hope you enjoy it, please any comments or critiques are appreciated! Also, if you want to know the song that inspired this chapter it is called 'Great Unknown' by William Ryan Key

Tags: @gabrieleskywalker

Will I ever stop imagining what if I'd done things differently and Will you find it a corner in your heart For me long after we part Funny how time doesn't care who we Love and who we wish we could repair So into this great unknown I will wander on my own

Y/N had never planned to be running from Atlantis. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen. She had just wanted to help the people in the lower city, the non nobility in Atlantis, to have a better life. How handing out supplies and funding small businesses to help them flourish became attempted murder she didn't know. But here she was, in her room at her mother's mansion, packing a small bag so that she could disappear.

She wasn't sure how a person's entire life could fit into a bag the size of small sea turtle but that's all she had. Into the bag went the mosaic of her father and she, when she was barely walking and he was still alive. They were poor, but they were happy. Then the plague came through, killing him in days and she was immune, meaning that her blood was noble. A DNA test later and it was discovered her mother was a councilwoman for King Orvax, so she was sent to live with her. Her mother didn't want her, Y/N was the result of a foolish night of 'slumming' as her mother said and her father had been so happy to have a daughter that, Roux Velix, never had to bother with the child again. But now she had to face her mistake and bring this child into her home. She put a smile on her face, making a story about Y/N being kidnapped by her father as a baby to save face, and welcomed the child like she was wanted.

Y/N put a bracelet into her bag next. The only gift that had been given to her in kindness, from the daughter of another council member, her first real love when she was a teenager. That had ended when her mother had found out, already having wild ideas about her marrying the prince, whom she had yet to meet. They fought, screaming at each other until Roux revealed that she had never wanted Y/N and that she wished that the plague had been made to kill anyone with low blood. Y/N had been suspicious of that comment so she started digging into what actually went on in those council meetings between her mother and the king. She was disgusted by what she found.

A flier for a meeting of the Atlantis for All activist group was slid into the front pocket of the bag. Y/N had snuck out in her early 20's, finally getting up the courage to seek out others with similar ideas, hiding under a maid's cowl, to meet with the small Atlantis for All group in the lower city. It had been cleared of the sickness that had taken her father by now, and this group had been operating for years, doing small acts of kindness for the low class Atlantians. When she arrived they didn't trust her, thinking she was coming in as a plant from the nobility to spy on them. It took a few years of hard work and providing funds from her mother's accounts before they really welcomed her. She bonded with one particular person, Aria, who soon became her best friend.

Finally she put letters into the bag. Letters between her and members of AfA, notes from Aria encouraging her to be her true self, things that made her feel happy and reminded her of the fun times she had before Hendrix arrived to begin tearing everything apart. Just as Prince Orm was readying to become king another member of the nobility had joined them. Y/N had never met him before but that didn't surprise her. Her mother didn't let her come to events where someone might ask her about her home life or her history, and she didn't seek out others in the nobility. The few times she had she had either gotten her nose or her heart broken. But Hendrix came in and he was charismatic, he knew how to make people believe him and even more, believe in him. Soon he was nearly running the show and he tasked Y/N with something so that they could protest the coronation of Prince Orm. She had to find out from her mother the route that the parade would travel that day.

"How did you know my mother was in charge of the schedule of events?" she had asked. She assumed he hated the nobility and despised Orm and what he stood for as much as she did, how could he even speak to enough of them to find out this information. He had smiled sweetly at her, and she couldn't lie, she had nearly melted at the attention. She loved when sweet, kind attention was given to her. She was going to soon realize that those who paid that kind of attention to her were just out to use her.

"We must know our enemy if we are to actually interact with them on their level," he said. "Most of you are lower city, those without noble blood, you were raised with them Y/N, I was raised with the royals. I have found that if I want to enact change I first have to understand what they are about. I spoke to several council members at the coronation announcement and was able to convince one to tell me some details. Please, just ask your mother. Once we know the route we can choose the best spot for our protest."

What an amazing liar Hendrix was. The AfA was planning a protest while Hendrix was planning an attack. What no one knew was that Hendrix himself was in line for the crown should anything happen to Orm and well, he always loved to put on a crown.

The parade had gone as it was supposed to, until they rounded the corner closest to the palace. The group was gathered, Y/N at the front with a projector, voice singing out a song of resistance, asking for equal rights for all. Hendrix was supposed to shoot off a cracker, bringing attention to the group. Then Y/N noticed that the canister was ramping up. It wasn't a cracker, it was an energy pulse. She grabbed it from him just as it shot off, barely missing Orm's head, instead hitting the back of the floater he was in, sending it spinning. She knew she had to run and just before the guards descended she and few others took off. She made it back to her room in minutes.

Now here she was, bag packed, ready to run.

She had no idea what to do once she got to the surface and was lucky that Aria had run early and had the sense to do some research before going to land. They met on the way to a small town in the state of Maine. Aria had the knowledge and Y/N had stolen enough from her mother that they were able to get fake documents and rent a duplex on the beach, rooming together for awhile before Aria found someone in town to love and marry. Y/N remained in the duplex overlooking the water. She knew that she probably would never be able to travel far from the rocky shore but she still wanted to see the ocean. She loved the sea and would forever regret what had happened.

For 10 years she settled into a life in Maine, opening a cafe, learning all she could about the surface, and continuing to try and help anyone she could. She had no idea that soon she would be forced back into the Atlantian world and would have to face the man she almost helped assassinate.

When everybody filled me up with pride I was only looking for a place to hide I am no statue or monument to raise But I try my best these days Funny how time doesn't mind who we Keep and who we bear to leave behind So into this great unknown I will wander on my own

Orm couldn't tell Arthur but he was going to miss him. He was going to miss his brother, his mother, his nephew, and especially his kingdom. He knew it wasn't his anymore, and he had been imprisoned for years, but in that time he had thought about everything he would do differently if he were able to go back, go make things right. Now though, he couldn't go back, not yet, possibly not ever. And that broke his heart.

He took some time, mostly walking up the east coast, still living in the ocean when he could, sleeping on beaches and in coves, still wanting to feel close to his home. He didn't bother much with the surface world, choosing instead to let his pity fester. He didn't want to be on the surface and as much as Arthur touted the pros of living on the land Orm didn't want to bother. It was after Orm started garnering attention on the surface news that Arthur finally had to come in and tell him he had to settle somewhere.

"I know you don't want to, you're restless, but that's making you conspicuous and since Atlantis has been revealed, people are traveling to the surface to explore. Someone is bound to recognize you if you keep making waves," Arthur said as they drove up the coast of Maine. He had said he found a place he could stay. It was near Tom's lighthouse and Atlanna had agreed that she would use part of the stipend she received for being the former queen to help fund Orm's needs. He didn't enjoy the idea but the king wasn't really giving him a choice.

"Making waves, funny," Orm grumbled. "So I am expected to live in this house? And what?"

"I don't know, read a book, watch some TV, you have a neighbor, meet them, make a friend, get laid, who cares? Just keep laying low," Arthur said, pulling up to a house that seemed split in two. There were two doors sharing a large porch, it was two stories, and to Orm's happiness at least, was boarding a rocky beach that allowed him to walk to the ocean if he wanted. "We got it furnished already, fridge is full, and I left information about places to eat and different sites you could visit." Orm got out of the truck and grabbed his bag, just a single backpack, and headed to the front door. Arthur let him know that Tom's lighthouse was only 10 miles north and he could go to them any time he needed anything and they would get Arthur. Orm waved back to the truck and watched it pull away.

He was about to enter his new home when the other door opened and a woman stepped out. He turned to look at her, not sure what he expected from this neighbor, but the look of surprise wasn't it. She recovered quickly and he decided to ignore it. He had probably made a similar face, considering his surprise at how pretty she was. He had seen pretty surface dwellers before, but not like her. Maybe she thought he was just as pleasing to look at. Arthur had said to get laid.

Y/N had covered her shock at seeing King Orm standing on her porch, apparently moving into the other side of the duplex, but she was still panicking inside. What was he doing here? What had happened that the man who's major selling point to the Atlantian people was how much he hated the surface world. She put on a smile, resolving that she would try her best to keep him from realizing that she was Atlantian and also keeping it secret what she had done, what she had been involved in.

"Hi, I'm Y/N Vila, I guess I'm your neighbor" she introduced, offering her hand. Orm smiled a little back at her, taking her hand hesitantly, sending a bit of a flutter through her. O no.

#ormmariusxreader #orm marius x reader #ormmarius #king orm #orm marius #kingormxreader #kingorm #king orm x reader #ormseries3

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

my favorite view ( elisa de almeida x reader )

prompt: the times you take photos of elisa on vacation and the one time she takes a photo of you.

author notes: of course had to pump out another almeida fanfic, missed my baby. i actually have like two fanfics planned after this so be ready for that. also i wrote this while being the sickest i ever been so mercy please ty

with off season finally being here, elisa and you didn't waste any time booking a flight straight to brazil. it was time for you two to relax and forget about the troubles of the season.

in a little surprise, you decided to bring along a polaroid camera. wanting to take some pictures of the beautiful scenery and of an even more beautiful sight, elisa. your girlfriend seemed to have the same idea but you wouldn't know of that until much later.

on the first day of your long waited vacation, elisa and you decided to go to the beach. it was a nice sunny day as you lay on the beach towel you bought along. with elisa trying to built an sand castle beside you. she has her tongue sticking out the side of her lips. clearly focusing all her attention on her sandy masterpiece.

your hands reach for the polaroid camera in the beach bag on the not elisa having side of your body. sneakily you hold the camera in your hands and take a few pictures of elisa in her sand castle making glory. the clicking sound of the camera makes the french player look to the side at you. laughing loudly once she realizes what you're doing. "stop being a creep, baby" elisa says as she looks at you.

you sit up on your elbows before shrugging. "it's not creepy if you're my love so shush" you say as you take another photo of elisa's laughter. she tries to take the camera out of your hands, but you lean out of her way. "a girl can't even take pictures of her girlfriend in peace anymore," you sigh dramatically. elisa just pouts as she lays in defeat on top of your waist. "not if i can't do the same" she says muffled as she lays her face on top of your skin. it was a cute sight, but not enough for you to give her the camera.

"just get your own, baby" you say softly as you tangle your left hand in her hair. she just pouts at you even more.

the next photos of elisa you was able to get stealthily was after dinner. elisa and you had just came back from a nice dinner at the hotel's dining hall. which had a decent performance that almost put you two to sleep. now elisa and you were lazing around sleepily on the balcony of y'all's hotel room.

the sun was steadily setting with a mix of orange and blue painting the sky. alongside some pink. your eyes are hanging dangerously close to closing when you look over at elisa. she is already fast asleep on the cushioned beach chair. her hair being a little messy from her previously getting comfortable on the chair. the french player's face is just adorable with how peaceful she looks. it was a no-brainer to take a picture, so you did just that.

getting up from your chair to go back into you two's hotel room. digging into your bag to grab the camera before coming back out onto the balcony. the polaroid sits comfortably in your hands as you snap a few photos of elisa sleeping. a few giggles coming from you as you take a few more. even taking a selfie with her sleeping in the background. eventually the tiredness from dinner catches back up to you and you lay back down on your cushioned seat. setting the polaroid down on the small table next to you before drifting off to sleep.

the next day, you and elisa are getting ready to go out on the town. wanting to see the sights you two heard about online. you are in the bathroom trying to do your hair in the mirror. not sure on whether to do an half up half down or just simple braids.

"babeee" you whine out to elisa as you try to think of the seemly hundredth hairstyle to do that would best beat the brazilian heat. she peeks her head into the bathroom doorframe. laughing at the mess you made all over the sink with various hair products and claw clips. "hm, what is it?" she smiles at you as she walks in fully. backhugging you before nuzzling her face into your neck.

"i don't know what hairstyle to do. i was going to just leave my hair down, but it's so hot here" you say as your hands go down to sit onto of where elisa's are hugging your waist. "maybe.. just do a ponytail?" she says. the suggestion just makes you roll your eyes. "too basic, babe. c'mon think of something cuter than that" you smack your lips in frustration. elisa just gives you a kiss on the cheek before pulling away and heading back out of the bathroom. "i've had short hair for so long, so i can't be much help" the french player says as she sits down on y'all's bed.

after ten minutes of debating on whether to wear dutch braids or just a ponytail like elisa suggested you finally decided on the dutch braids. braiding up your hair in the matter of minutes before leaving out of the bathroom. flopping down on the bed, feeling mentally exhausted just from the hairstyle situation. elisa chuckles seeing you, "great choice, baby." you just groan in response.

now it was elisa's turn to do her hair. despite having short hair, she put effort into her hair every morning. making sure to comb it nicely and make sure it falls in the right way. the french player gets up off of the bed and heads straight into the bathroom. shaking her head at the mess you left behind. she starts to comb her hair as she looks in the mirror. you finally sit up, enjoying the sight of elisa fixing up her hair. time for another photoshoot. you grab the polaroid camera out of your bag that sits on the floor next to the bed. expertly taking photos of elisa. the main ones showing her in the mirror doing her hair and the rest showing her smile and laugh as she recognizes the clicking sound of the camera.

"you're always taking photos of me and never let me take any of you" elisa says as she sits her comb down. coming out of the bathroom. she tries to steal the camera from your hands, but you dodge her and hide it behind your back. "because i'm suppose to be the photographer here, baby. not you" you say in-between giggles as elisa chases you around you two's hotel room.

"that's not fair!" the french player whisper shouts at you as she finally catches you. pinning you down onto the bed, putting all her weight on top of you so you couldn't escape. your noses touch as you smile at her, "it is fair. just continue looking pretty for me so i can take some nice photos of you."

your girlfriend just rolls her eyes at you before kissing you. you drop the camera onto the bed before your hands go to the back of her neck. kissing her back gently. elisa pulls away for a moment to whisper against your lips, "better be glad i want to kiss you so bad right now or that would had been my polaroid camera." you just pull her back down into a kiss.

it was near the end of you two's vacation when elisa finally got her chance to take photos of you.

it was late at night with you two chilling in the hot tub in bikinis. you were joyfully soaking up the warm water and the nice sight of elisa's abs. being able to spend this time with your girlfriend was nice and was a great reward after a long season. "definitely going to miss this weather when we get back to france," you say as you close your eyes. sighing out in satisfaction.

"mhm, definitely" elisa mumbles quietly. it was suspicious how quiet your girlfriend was being. usually she was overly hype until the moment her head hit the pillow. you decide to just let it go, feeling too relaxed to care.

that was until you hear the sound of a click. you open your eyes to see elisa smiling at you as she holds your polaroid camera in her hands. "gotcha, babe" she says as you come close to her. trying to take the camera away from her, but no use. she holds the camera above her head as she smiles down at you.

"just sit there and look pretty for me, babe. i wanna take a few more photos" elisa winks at you as she pushes you gently back to your spot from before. now it's your turn to be photographed.

#elisa de almeida #elisa de almeida x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 3

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Word Count: 2, 593 (This one is a bit shorter because the next chapter has ALL. THE. SMUT. Prepare yourself in advance loves!)

Warnings: Fluffy Sy, Sexual innuendos, Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 2

I lay back in bed with my arm behind my head and start thinking about Emma even though I know I shouldn’t because I won't be able to stop. I think of how beautiful she was standing on my doorstep, the way she cocked her hip at me with her arms crossed when I got on to her for trying to do dishes, the way her nose scrunches when she laughs. I smile to myself when I think about the weight of her tiny body across my lap and the way her nails scratched the stubble on the back of my head and neck when she was kissing me. Her perfume was not overbearing and overly potent like so many women I know. Just a soft, sensual scent that enveloped me when she was pressed against me. I think about how soft and swollen her lips felt before she left and the little gold chain necklace that rested against her cleavage and sigh. I lay there continuing to think about her as my eyes close and I drift off in a deep dreamless sleep.

I wake up the next morning stunned that I slept all night. Even though I was on a decent streak without nightmares lately, I usually never slept so soundlessly. I am once again still thinking about Emma and our upcoming date. Maybe this could be more than just physical. Don’t get me wrong, sex is great if we get to that point but I wonder if I’ll ever stop craving something more. A connection so deep that it spans a lifetime. I’ve always admired the pure love and admiration that my grandparents have for each other but lost hope a while ago that it may be something I could have. My military career made it impossible to settle down and although I thought I loved women before it just didn’t seem to be the same type of love that Nana and PawPaw have. It’s like they are each a half of the same person. The way they complete each other to make up this seemingly perfect couple who loves each other despite any flaws. It’s an all-encompassing type of adoration. I settled on the fact that their type of love is the exception. The one in a million lottery that most people never experience. Over the years I began to subconsciously accept the fact that I’ll never have that. I’ve become content being alone simply because it’s a way to protect myself from betrayal and heartbreak. I was fine with this lifestyle until I laid my eyes on Emma Miller. I’ve never felt so immediately smitten by a woman before. Talking to her felt comforting, her smile made my heart race, and I loved that she playfully bantered with me. Could it be that maybe my poor luck in the love department is over now because she’s the right person? My soulmate perhaps? Am I just fooling myself because I could see myself actually marrying a woman like her and worshipping her every day without being able to get enough of her? The thought of her with two or three little kids that look like a combination of us causes my thoughts to blur and my chest to expand with butterflies. Maybe this could work for once. It's too soon to tell. My nightmares aren’t happening as often and I feel like my PTSD isn’t as crippling as it once was. I don’t want her to have to deal with my problems though. She would be terrified if she saw me in an active PTSD episode. It’s been six months since I’ve had one but there's no guarantee I won't have another. Maybe I’m done with them or my brain is tricking me into this false pretense that I'm cured so that I get complacent. I’m getting way too far ahead of myself. I need to temper my hopes and expectations in order to protect myself from the inevitable let down. Hell, she may not even be as interested in me that way. Emma may not want anything to with something long term. I know she certainly must have her own qualms after being treated the way she has by men in the past. She’s had more than enough trauma to not have to witness mine.

After showering, getting ready for work, and eating some breakfast, I kiss Aika on the head and load up Mills for another day at work. I’m heading back to the same house to assist with the siding repair. There was more rot on that fireplace than we anticipated so it’s going to take a bit longer to repair. I call Nana and listen to her start carrying on about picking muscadines so she can make and can her some muscadine jelly. Pawpaw loves it so much he planted some muscadine trees on the back of the farm when I was about fourteen and she makes his jelly every year.

“D’ya hear that they got a new vet in town at Aika’s vet office?” I ask her.

“Oh, I sure did! Cute little blonde woman I think. Seems nice but I haven’t gotten a chance to speak to her yet. I know that Martha Foster invited her to church but she hasn’t come to a service. I can’t say I blame her, I don’t think I’d want to spend time with Martha and her nasty potato salad either.”

“Damn, Nana. Don’t hold back.”

“Well, I love the Lord, honey, but I only have so much patience for Martha and her know it all attitude.”

“I can’t disagree with you there, Nana. So yeah, the new vet, Emma, is very nice. I met her when I took the puppy I’m keeping over there after I found him. Did you see the picture I sent you of the little feller?”

“Your pawpaw showed me. He’s a cutie. What did you name him?”

Here we go. “Mills.”

“Mills? Like Milton? Where’d you think up a name like that?”

“Um, it’s short for Miller. Like Miller Lite Beer.” I think I just saved myself with that little white lie.

“You seriously didn’t name that poor thing after beer, Austin. What am I going to do with you? Bring him with you this weekend when you come to lunch on Sunday so I can spoil him. Your pawpaw won’t let me have any more animals. He said the barn cats, cows, chickens, and pigs keep us busy enough but I disagree. Do you know if that cute new veterinarian is single?”

“She is.” I quietly reply.

“Oh, you should ask her on a date. I keep telling you it’s time you start looking for a wife, Austin. If she turns you down, I can still get Susanne’s number for you. She may not have a job, but I’m sure she’ll find something soon.” Jesus Nana.

“No, I’m alright. I actually already asked Emma to dinner tonight. I’m only telling you because I know you have your ways of finding out sooner or later after gossiping with the ole bitties in town. Don’t you run off and start dreaming of a wedding and great grandkids now, ya hear? It’s just dinner.”

“Austin Syverson, you better not be calling me an ole’ bitty. I may be elderly but I can still smack you upside the head. You don't scare me."

"Yes ma'am." I reply with a chuckle because I know she means it. That ole' woman has smacked me upside the head so many times I can't count.

"I’m so glad you asked her to dinner. I want to meet her.”

“Like I said, I haven’t even taken her on a date yet.” Not exactly true but she doesn’t need to know that. “Let's not go and get ahead of ourselves and scare her off. Just do me a favor and wait a while before you ambush for information. Let me get to know her first please.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll stay out of it but please at least tell me how the date goes.”

“Deal. Now I gotta get on to work but I love ya. Tell PawPaw that I love him too.”

“We love you too, honey. Have a good day.”

The day drones on and finally I arrive at a small cottage style house on Beasley Avenue and pull up in the driveway. I’m sure my diesel truck rumbling announces my presence so I waste no time hopping out of the truck and making my way to the pale-blue door that has a summer wreath hung on it. There’s no doorbell so I knock loudly and within a few moments the door opens widely to reveal Emma in white shorts, and a yellow and white floral top that shows off just a sliver of her toned and tanned midriff. 

            “Hey Austin!” Emma says cheerfully while I’m still stunned over her appearance.

            “Sugar, you look good enough to eat.” I say with a smirk and wink.

            “Thank you, but you’re just saying that because you’re hungry.” She giggles as she reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck for a sweet hug. I put my hands on her hips and kiss her forehead.

            “I don’t say things I don’t mean darlin’. Nice place.” I say as she pulls back from me.

            “Thanks! It’s small and I need to do update some things since it’s an older house but I liked how simple and classic it looks. It also helped that it was in my budget, move in ready, and only ten minutes from the clinic.” She tells me.

“It fits you. It’s very bright and welcoming.” I say and she grins widely. “I don’t know what needs to be updated but I’d be happy to take a look.”

“I may have to make an appointment and take you up on that at some point. I need to install a doorbell. the hot water heater is not great and the kitchen sink is a little fickle but it’s not a big deal.”

“No need for an appointment darlin’. I can take a look whenever you’d like me too at no charge.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” She deflects.

“I’m offering so you don’t need to ask. But, I can’t be responsible for you starving so let’s eat and I can look at it later.” She locks the front door and I lead her to my truck.

“I missed lunch today. Janet accidentally double booked me and so I got behind. Had to work through lunch just to catch back up.” She says as I help her into the passenger’s seat.

“You don’t need to be doing that darlin’. I’m sure everyone would have understood.”

“It was okay. Janet felt bad about it and I didn’t want to waste people’s time. Just made for a crazy day! I’m ready for some lasagna!” She giggles and I smile at her from the driver’s seat.

We get to Gia’s and I say hello to the hostess, Sofia, who is the owner’s daughter. She’s always blatantly flirted with me but I’ve never returned the sentiment. She’s too young; barely twenty-two and is clearly looking to immediately get married and have kids like so many other women here. She’s a nice girl but I wouldn’t want to give her the wrong idea. I make a point to place my hand on Emma’s lower back and pull her chair for her to sit and she smiles gratefully at me. After we order, I see Giovanna the owner heading straight towards me. My mama and her were friends since I was a teenager and we have come to Gia’s throughout the years for meals. Giovanna and her husband, Matteo, opened this restaurant when I was about ten years old.

“Sy! Good to see you sweetie.” She says as she hugs me. “Who’s this beautiful lady?”

“Hey Giovanna. Good to see you too. This is Emma Miller. She’s our new veterinarian over at Hope Animal Clinic.” I answer and Emma smiles and produces her hand to shake as I introduce her.

“Ah! I’ve heard wonderful things about you! I have an appointment next month for our cat, Luigi, to get his yearly shots.”

“Oh, what a sweet name. I’ll be looking forward to meeting the little guy!” She tells her and I chuckle.

“He’s not a little guy. He’s the biggest domestic house cat I’ve ever seen!” I tell her.

“Really?” Emma asks.

“He’s a big boy, but what can you expect? He sleeps all day and his parents own a restaurant that sometimes has left over fish that would go to waste.” She says waving her hands dramatically and we laugh.

“Well then I look forward to meeting your big boy.” Emma jokes.

“Are you settling in okay? I’m so glad you are here!” Gia says and Emma smiles brightly.

“I’ve settled in nicely! Everyone has been so welcoming. I have to say, you have the best food in town. This is my first time coming in but I’ve ordered take out several times. Your delivery drivers are probably sick of me.” She jests.  

“Oh, I’m so glad you enjoy it dear. Don’t you worry about Derek and Joe. They get free food and only have to drive orders around so they are living the good life. Well, I’ll let you get back to your evening but I just wanted to say hello. You come back in anytime sweetheart!” She calls and we thank her and wave goodbye.

“So, are you one of those people that everyone in town knows? I saw that cute little hostess just about drooling over you.”

“Nah, that’s Gia’s daughter. I do know almost everyone in town but that’s what happens being raised in a town like this. My grandparents are pretty well known by everyone so I am just by proxy I guess. I’ve essentially spent the majority of 17 years overseas in different parts of the world, but when I come back home it’s like I never left. Unfortunately, that means everyone also knows everyone else’s business. I hope you don’t mind but I’m sure it’ll get around that we were here tonight on a date.” She blushes.

“I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with that.”

“Wouldn’t have brought ya if I wasn’t, Sugar. You deserve to be shown off and I’m proud to be the man who gets too.” I reach over to grab her hand and stroke my thumb over her knuckles before kissing them. She smiles from ear to ear.

            After dinner, we climb into my truck and I offer to take her for ice cream and she just pats her little belly.

“Normally, I would never turn down ice cream but I think I ate my weight in pasta. I’m completely stuffed.”

I stare out at the parking lot as I fight the urge to make a “that’s what she said joke” or an innuendo about how I could stuff her later and with once glance I can tell she caught my train of thought.

“You’re fighting making a dirty joke about stuffing me, aren’t you?” She giggles and I wink at her.

“I didn’t know you could hear my dirty thoughts.”

“I can’t, it was just so obvious. Your cheeks got red, you scrunched your nose while smiling and you broke eye contact with me.” Emma grins.

I shake my head and laugh lowly until Emma scoots over to me and whispers seductively, “Let's go home and maybe I'll let you stuff me full.”

Part 4

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal@kingliam2019@syversonswife@identity2212@starfirewildheart@hannah9921 @wa-ni @kneelforloki @cutedoxie @summersong69 @enchantedbytomandhenry @foxyjwls007 @geralts-yenn

#henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

First thanksgiving (Kelley O'Hara x Reader)

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, but I wanted to write something about it. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it!

I don't know if this is any good and it's barely edited, but I hope you enjoy :)

Combination of these two requests:

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving so I think it would be cute if the player (I don't know who, can be anyone) teach R about the tradition and the foods and maybe R try to cook a family recipe and everything just been cozy and cute!

and

r x Christen or Kelley meeting c or k's family for the first time at thanksgiving, because r isn't a soccer player.

Words: 3.2k

Kelley headed for me as soon as she got home, slotting herself against me and the back of the couch. I had been lying down watching tv, but turned toward her to wrap my arms around her, pecking her lips. "Hi love. How was your day?"

"Long, but could have been worse. I missed you today. How did your interview go?"

I held Kelley closer, kissing her forehead, "I missed you too Kel. I think it went pretty well. They said they'll get back to me after thanksgiving. I'm still thinking about saving a bit more money and starting my own business. I already have a good chunk away."

"If you do, I'll support you every step of the way. I think you'll make a very sexy boss."

I rolled my eyes, pinching Kelley side making her squeal before leaving a lingering kiss against her lips, "Of course you do."

"Hey um talking about thanksgiving. I hope it's okay, but I told my parents about us and they invited you to thanksgiving. So um would you want to come?"

We had been together for quite a while, but our relationship had started out a bit complicated and I was gone the majority of the time so Kelley had avoided telling her family until things were a bit more stable. "Why would that not be okay? If you want me there then of course I will come."

"I know you don't know anything about it or celebrate it, but I would like you to come."  

"Then I'll be there."

---

There were ingredients and stuff scattered all over the kitchen, it was a mess so was I, but I was determined to make the best apple pie and pecan pie I could. Despite never making either or ever trying a pecan pie. Kelley said her family loved them so in an anxious, overthinking moment, I had decided to attempt it in hopes of impressing them. Kelley walked in, just stopping and staring at me for a few seconds. 

"What are you doing baby?"

"Um well you said your family likes these pies and I'm a half decent baker so I thought I would try. Maybe impress them. I um I'm going to make some small ones so you can try and tell me if I should just throw them out or not."

Kelley wiped some flour off my cheek before pecking my lips, "A bit nervous are we? Babe my parents will love you regardless of if you baked them a pie or not."

"Two pies actually."

"You're really determined aren't you?" I nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed by what a mess I was over this. "Why don't I help you? I've made them with my parents enough to know how they like it."

That help turned out to be Kelley sitting on the counter, talking about random things and constantly distracting me by pulling me in for make out sessions. The only real help she provided was telling me that her family liked more cinnamon in the apple pie and smaller pieces of pecan. If I actually thought about it, I would have realised she was doing it to stop me overthinking so I could actually enjoy the baking process. Of course it worked. Kelley always had a way of making me calm down, of stopping or at least reducing any overthinking or panicking thoughts. Given my time in the military, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence. 

With the pies in the oven and the timer set, I decided it was time to clean up. As soon as my hands entered the water, Kelley's hands covered my face. Though, her hands happened to be covered in flour. "Oh you little shit." I spun around, bubbles in hand, smearing them over her face. Kelley squealed, trying to run away, but my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into me before she could. I rubbed my face against hers transferring some of the flour. 

Kelley turned around in my arms, giggling her ass off, "You look ridiculous."

"Love, you don't look much better."

"We could make it worse." Kelley suggested with a smirk, letting me push her against the counter, lips connecting. Kelley ended up on the counter, me standing between her legs as we lazily made out. Since I got back we had definitely been making up for all the lost time. Pretty much every spare minute was spent either cuddling or kissing in someway. When the timer went off, I pulled away quickly, there was no way I was letting these pies burn. Kelley tried to pull me back in with a whine, but I gently pushed her away, "Nope. Get off, I can't burn the pies."

"Rude."

"You love it."

Later that night after the pies were baked and everything was cleaned up, Kelley and I were relaxing in the bath, her back against my front as I ran my fingers up her arms. Kelley had reassured me multiple times that my pies were pretty much perfect and that her family would love them. I only just believed her, but was trying to push my anxiety away. 

"So what exactly is thanksgiving? I know you eat a bunch of food with family."

"It's pretty much that. Thanksgiving is a time where you spend time with family, eat good food and be thankful to the things you have in your life. That's the short version anyway and all you really need to know."

"I'm thankful for you everyday Kel."

---

My leg had been non-stop bouncing since we left the house. I had met her teammates a few times, but this was different. This was the first time I had ever met any of my partners parents and ultimately Kelley's parents were the most important. Kelley was the only person I had ever imagined spending the rest of my life with, or actually wanted to spend my life with. For that reason I needed Kelley's parents to like me. I knew she loved me, but she also valued her family's opinions over pretty much anything. 

A hand on my knee stopped the bouncing and the lingering kiss momentarily settled the nerves.  "Baby, it'll be okay. Just be yourself and my parents will love you because I love you. Stop thinking too much into it and try to enjoy yourself. When you're ready we can go in okay?"

There was no point in pushing it out any longer so I took a few deep breaths and got out of the car before I freaked myself out more. Kelley laced her fingers with mine, squeezing gently as she knocked on the door. Who I assumed was her mum answered the door, pulling Kelley into a hug before inviting us inside where her dad was waiting.

"Mum, dad this is Y/n. Y/n my mum Karen and my dad Dan."

I held my hand out for her dad who took it with a slightly harder than normal grip, "It's nice to meet you sir." Before moving to kiss her mums cheek, "You look lovely ma'am, it's lovely to meet you."

Karen waved me off, pulling me into a hug instead, "You make us feel old with that sir and ma'am stuff darling, you can call us Karen and Dan."

"I made you some pies."

"Oh yes, Kelley told us you did. Thank you, they look wonderful."

I found myself alone with Dan as Kelley and her mum were doing something in the kitchen. Honestly, it was not a position I wanted to be in especially after only just meeting her parents. The anxiousness was bubbling up again, but I did my best to use my training and hide it. Being anxious in front of Kelley was one thing, being anxious in front of her parents was not ideal. 

Dan sat across from me on the couch, stern look upon his face. I shifted so I was sitting up straighter, legs crossed. "So Y/n, Kelley hasn't told us much about you. What do you do?"

"Um nothing at the moment," I admitted, quickly realising by the look on her dads face that it probably wasn't the right thing to say. I quickly spoke up again, "I was a medic in the army, my contract just ended and I chose not to reenlist. After 16 years, the majority of that away, I decided to take some time to just spend with Kelley and my family. I've started job hunting now."

"I could have guessed that one by the way you greeted us. You'll fit right in, I'm ex-navy and Kelley's brother is currently in the Navy. Are you going to do something healthcare related?"

"She did mention that. When I was younger I wanted to do something healthcare related weather it was a nurse or a doctor, but I joined the Army at 18 instead. There were some things that I experienced that definitely changed my desire to pursue it. I'm currently interviewing for security positions and looking into starting my own company a bit down the road. My dad used to have his own security company and I quite enjoyed hanging around and learning from him when I was a teenager."

He nodded along in understanding before his stoic, stern look reappeared, "How long have you been dating my daughter? What are your intentions with her?"

How long we had been together was a bit complicated. We had been talking to each other and seeing each other when I was on leave for about 2 years before we started officially dating. We were practically a couple during that time, just without the commitment. I didn't want Kelley to have to wait for me every time I went away and couldn't give her what she needed. My past relationship had ended with my ex cheating on me because of that so I didn't want to go through that again.

Kelley later revealed that she had never so much as looked at another person in that time and she had always considered us together. Then she had forced my fears out of me and convinced me to take a chance on her. It was the best decision I had ever made. I wasn't exactly sure what to say, I didn't know what Kelley had told them. Knowing Kelley though she probably included out non-committed dating. "Four years. My intentions are simple, I just want to love and support her for as long as she'll let me. I want to continue to make her laugh over stupid stuff, cheer the loudest at all her games and anything else she chooses to do. I hope to-"

"Dad stop interrogating her," Kelley spoke up, sitting on the arm of the couch, arm wrapping around my shoulders. 

"It's okay love. I can handle it."

Thankfully the interrogation stopped, instead moving into easier questions about my life and relationship with Kelley. The longer we talked the more relaxed I started to feel. They didn't seem to hate me which was a plus. The only thing left was to meet her siblings, which was still causing anxiety, but Kelley was either playing with the baby hairs on the back of my neck or with my fingers. It was enough to keep me in the moment, it always was. I slipped out to use the bathroom only to find my way into the kitchen where Kelley's mum was working on dinner. 

"Do you need any help Karen? I've never made most of this stuff so I can chop stuff up or something if you like."

"You can peel and cut those potatoes then slice the brussels sprouts in half if you like."

"Sure. What sort of food are you making?"

Karen started moving around the kitchen showing me all the different food she was making. There were a few things I had never tried like green bean casserole and stuffing. There was also a few things that I didn't like, one of them being the main component which was turkey. I would eat it anyway out of respect for Karen. Afterall, she was spending hours preparing food for us. After cutting up anything needed, I decided to stay and watch how things were made. There may come a day where Kelley and I hosted thanksgiving so I wanted some idea of what to do. Karen didn't seem to mind as she happily talked through what she was doing, giving me instructions to stir something or hand her things. 

"Mum, have you seen Y- nevermind she's there. What are you two up to?"

My arm wrapped around Kelley's shoulder, lips meeting her temple, "Your mums teaching me things."

"She's a pretty good assistant this one. I don't want to overstep, but I've been meaning to ask why you're not with your family for thanksgiving?"

"No, no not at all. We don't actually celebrate it. We moved here when I was younger and never picked it up, but it's important to Kelley so I'm trying to learn about it."

Kelley smiled up at me, squeezing my hand that still hung over her shoulder, "Erin and Jerry are here. Mum, can I steal your assistant away?"

Karen shooed us out of the room, but I pulled us to a stop just outside, out of the view of anyone. The nerves had hit me once again. Her parents seemed to like me or at least not hate me, now I had to make a good impression on her siblings. It was a lot of pressure because I knew how much Kelley's family meant to her. Kelley looked at me for a second before pulling me in for a tight hug, fingers running through my hair. "You're okay, this will be okay. I'll be right by your side. We can go when you're ready."

---

I found myself cuddled up under a blanket with Kelley outside as she caught up with her siblings. After the initial nervousness of meeting them, we had gotten to talking pretty much instantly. They had asked the same sort of questions as Kelley's parents, just less intense. Thankfully, they seemed to not hate me as well. 

They were doing most of the talking, while I just listened and fiddled with Kelley's fingers. Seeing how happy Kelley was with her family, made me happier than I could express. Her smile was one of my favourite things about her and even after four years, her laugh still made the butterflies in my stomach erupt. 

Just before my mind drifted back to marrying Kelley, her sister spoke up. "About time our girl brought someone home to meet us."

"What's wrong with her?" 

I wasn't sure what to make of that, if it was an insult or not so I kept quiet for now. Kelley on the other hand, didn't. "Jerry! What the hell?"

He put his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, I didn't mean that seriously, it's just you hid her from us for four years, there's got to be something wrong, extra toe? Hidden tail?"

"You're a dork. No, Y/n doesn't have an extra toe or a tail. Maybe don't tell mum and dad this, but things were a bit complicated to start with, I mean we were good, just complicated. Then she was gone on and off for the past two years and things just didn't line up."

"You did long distance?"

Kelley squeezed my hand, cuddling further into me. This time I decided to answer. "We did. I was deployed more than I would have liked, but we made it work."

"Now she's back and she's not allowed to leave me again."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

---

When Kelley was distracted with her siblings, I approached both her mum and dad, "Hey, can I talk to you guys in private for a minute please?"

They lead me to the outside seating area, sitting down across from me as I took a breath to calm me down. "Dan, you asked me earlier what my intentions were with Kelley and I never got to fully answer because she came in. Now I'm not asking permission because I'm not sure she would want that and ultimately it is Kelley's decision. In saying that I did want to let you know that I am planning on proposing to her. Kelley's it for me, there's no one else in this world that I want to spend my life with."

They looked at me for a few seconds before Karen smiled, standing up to hug me, "Good. She loves you so much Y/n. I've never seen my daughter look at anyone like she does you. She's happy, keep her that way and we won't have a problem."

Dan approached me, same stoic look from earlier before holding his hand out to shake, "We appreciate you letting us know. You continue to treat my daughter how she deserves and we'll welcome you to the family with open arms. Do you have a plan?"

"The only thing I want is for her to be happy. I don't have a plan yet, I've had the ring for a while, had it on me constantly since a week or so after I got back. I'm just waiting for the right time I guess. She deserves the best."

Karen smiled, "Maybe you'll find the right time while you guys are here, surrounded by family."

"You'd be okay with that? Me hijacking thanksgiving to propose to Kelley."

"Of course we would. It's a special moment in her life and we want to be apart of that if you want us to be."

"I thinks that's perfect. Do you do that thing where you go around saying what you're thankful for?"

"Not everyone does, but we do."

"Then I have an idea. We should get back though because I can see her looking at us through the window."

Kelley wrapped her arm around my waist to cuddle into my side. If you ever lost Kelley, she would likely be cuddled against me in someway. Every chance she got, she was attached to me. While I used to hate touch, I loved hers. "What were you guys up to? Were they interrogating you again?"

"Your parents were showing me around and we were talking. I wouldn't call it an interrogation so don't worry."

---

We sat around the dinner table filled with food and my nerves were starting to skyrocket again. It was a different type of nerves though, they were more a mixture of excitement, fear and anticipation compared to the anxiety and fear I felt earlier. I was about to ask Kelley to marry me. It was never my intention to do it the first time I was meeting her parents, but they had suggested it. I knew Kelley would love them being there.  Everyone went around saying what they were thankful for before Karen turned to me with a knowing look.

"Y/n, your turn."

My fingers laced with Kelley's which rest on my knee to stop the bouncing, "I'm thankful for a lot in my life, but I'm most thankful for the women who makes me complete. I'm thankful you stayed by my side over the years, even though I know it hasn't been easy. I'm thankful for all the times you make me laugh, the times you've wiped my tears and held me close. There's no one I'm more thankful for than you Kelley. I'm thankful that I get to love you and be loved by you. I love you Kelley, more than I ever thought possible. I will be forever thankful if you would say yes to this question," I stood up, dropping down to one knee and presenting the ring as tears shone in her eyes, "Kelley O'Hara, will you marry me?"

Kelley laughed, pulling me into a tight hug, "Yes, yes of course I will marry you."

"Did you guys know about this?"

Karen smiled, hugging Kelley, "She may have told us earlier. Welcome to the family Y/n."

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso imagines #uswnt imagines #kelley o'hara #kelley o'hara x reader

[bluestar22x]

The Fishing Trip

Summary: You and Frankie get caught in a rain storm while on a fishing trip

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (though no real physical descriptions are given to reader)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Suggestive content but no actual smut, fowl language

Word Count: 950(ish)

Author's Note: This is for the April Showers Challenge made by @undercoverpena.

xxx

It wasn't supposed to rain. Every forecast you'd listened to during the week before your fishing trip with Frankie had promised some clouds, but no precipitation.

Not a single one had predicted the downpour that actually ended up occurring.

It had started with a few droplets, a drizzle so mild you both thought it would pass, but within a half hour it had intensified so badly you and Frankie had to box up your fishing gear and return to the shore in the metal fishing boat Frankie had rented for the weekend.

You'd only been out on the lake for a couple hours, but at least you'd been able to catch a decently sized perch. It was what you'd both be eating for supper...once the rain stopped. Hopefully.

If it didn't stop there would be no way to start the campfire back up and no way to cook the fish.

If that happened it wouldn't doom you, you and Frankie had brought plenty of other food to eat, but it meant putting the fish on ice for the next day and you'd both been hoping to eat it fresh.

"Mother nature sucks," you decided, pouting as Frankie secured the small motorized boat with rope to a birch tree along the edge of the lake.

"She's definitely got bad timing," he agreed, glancing up at the depressingly gray sky.

Usually Frankie was all about the outdoors, at least more so than you, but even he had his limits, and you could tell he was as disappointed with the unpredictable weather as you were.

You shivered as the rain started to soak through your fleece jacket and the short sleeved t-shirt underneath and that was enough for you. You headed for the three person tent you and Frankie had sent up as soon as you'd arrived at the remote campsite that morning, already sore from the two hour hike to get there.

"I'm going to get out of my wet clothes and stay in the tent until this shit is over," you informed Frankie.

He chuckled. "Sounds like a plan. I'll be with you in a minute."

You unzipped the front of the tent and crawled inside before briefly turning back to gaze out at the lake before you.

"At least the view's still nice," you muttered, eyes scanning over the breathtakingly massive mountains that surrounded the lake and the body of water itself. There was something mesmerizing about the way the drops of rain hit the surface, forming little circles that expanded out and quickly dissipated.

You secured the storm flaps of the tent back into place to prevent the slanting rain from getting in and stripped out of all your soaked clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear until you were able to dig your nightwear out of your duffle bag.

If you were going to be stuck in the tent the rest of the afternoon and possibly the night, you were getting comfortable.

Frankie slipped into the tent a few minutes after you had settled in with a book, and began changing too. You watched in silent amusement as he struggled to get his clothes off in the tight space without disturbing you or the edges of the tent, the places prone to letting water in if even just a hand brushed against it.

"Let me help," you offered, laying your open book print down over the top of your bag.

You kneeled next to him and tossed his Standard Heating Oil cap onto the top of his sleeping bag and lifted his shirt over his head.

A smile played on his lips when his dark eyes met yours after.

"What?" you asked, though you recognized the mischievous look.

"Impatient to get me undressed, cariño?"

You huffed. "I was helping you out. Nothing more. You were starting to look like your nickname for a minute there, flopping around like that."

He leaned forward and brushed his nose against yours. "Thanks."

"No problem."

You pulled away to roll over to your sleeping bag but overestimated how far you needed to go, hitting a corner of the tent with an arm.

You cringed as water seeped through, making your sleeve damp again. "Damn it. I really, really hate camping in the rain. I'm going to be cold all night."

"We can fix that," Frankie said, still dressed in nothing but his boxer briefs. He gestured at your two sleeping bags. "These can be zipped together. Good for sharing body heat."

"You learn that in the army?" you teased, knowing full well why he really wanted to join your sleeping bags together.

"A survival book I read years ago," he replied.

"Nerd."

He reached for your sleeping bag and you let him zip it with his and you both climbed inside.

"What now?" you inquired, laying on your right shoulder so you could face him.

He turned to you and placed a hand on the back of your head so he could pull you in close and give you a peck on the corner of your mouth.

"Next we need to get you out of this damp shirt," he murmured afterwards, his lips brushing against yours. "That way I can warm you up properly. Wouldn't want you getting hypothermia."

"No, indeed we wouldn't," you agreed, beaming up at him, enjoying the act. You stretched your arms above your head and he slid his hands under your shirt to remove it.

"Probably wouldn't hurt to do some exercises too while in here," he figured as he caressed you along your ribcage. "Get the blood pumping."

You nodded. "Probably."

You reached for him and he engulfed you in his arms, dragging you on top of him as you captured his mouth with yours.

Maybe your fishing afternoon being interrupted by a storm wasn't so bad after all.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

#Frankie Morales #Triple Frontier #Frankie Morales Fanfic (Mine) #Triple Frontier Fanfic #X Reader #Fanfiction #Mine #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge #Pedro Pascal Character Fanfic #Queue Me

[bloodynereid]

Hey!

I watched Gen V and fell in love with Jordan x Marie, so I was hoping to request a piece between them. it can be pretty much anything haha sorry for the lack of imagination, I trust you’ll do it justice regardless. If anything, however, I’m a whore for angst with a slide of fluff or smut🤭 thank you so much in advance for considering my request!

Brewing Love

pairing: jordan li x marie moreau

tw: cursing, mentions of horrible professors, nothing else really

description: marie is in desperate need of a place to write her term paper in... and she find the perfect little cafe owned by the one and only jordan li.

a/n: hii tysm for ur request <3 hopefully this is something that you were looking for since you gave such an open prompt lol, i didn't really do much angst and i don't write smut at all really so i'm hoping and praying this is still enjoyable to read. limoreau has my heart and i might make a part 2 to this someday.

(they both look so hot here i'm not okay)

Marie was stressed out. Her term paper was due in two days and she had barely drafted a plan yet. Usually she was better at dealing with assignments, for goodness sake she usually got them finished the day they were assigned! But this one assignment slipped by her for multiple reasons: 

1. She hated the professor teaching it. 

2. Said professor explained the paper horribly.

3. She was busy as fuck.

Now Marie was struggling with what most seasoned professionals call a “writing slump”. Honestly Marie was surprised she hadn’t completely burnt out by this point but this situation was not going to make the paper write itself. And so… she continued to procrastinate in a multitude of ways, which may or may not have included reading fanfics of her most recent obsession. By the time she had finished reading something that would probably be considered a novel the sun was already dipping behind the Performing Arts school that Marie’s window faced. Well shit.

Marie realized that she desperately needed a change of scenery so at least half of this paper could be written out tonight. That meant having to find a good enough cafe close to campus since she knew that the library would be packed full of students in the same situation as she was right now. As she packed up her laptop and notes, she tried to find a good cafe with wifi. Key-word: tried.

She spent a whole ten minutes scrolling through student forums and Google Maps until she finally found somewhere decent… a place that was even owned by a God U graduate. So she quickly grabbed her headphones and started walking out of campus in the direction of ‘The Woods’.

A loud guitar solo was blasting through her headphones when Marie pushed open the door to the beautifully decorated cafe. She stared in wonder at the multiple lights that hung from the ceiling adorned with vintage lampshades as well as the huge variety of plants and greenery that decorated the place. Oh she had definitely made the right choice.

Slipping off her headphones and dropping them into the opening of her backpack Marie fixed her shirt and walked up to the counter. She waited for one of the other customers, a tall blonde dude she vaguely recognized from God U. The guy was directly talking to one of the baristas behind the counter who had a little name tag that read: ‘Andre’ and was decorated with random sketches.

“Andre stop fucking flirting! We have an actual customer that’s not Luke.” A velvety voice yelled out from behind one of the fancy coffee machines before a figure stepped out and Marie stood dumbfounded. How could one person look so fucking stunning?

“Sorry man.” Marie was brought back to Earth as the voice of Andre cut through her haze. Shit when was she last attracted to someone this much? Probably never.

“Nah it’s good, Cate’s probably waiting for me. This place has the best coffee by the way.” The blonde guy, who Marie knew was called Luke now, said as he turned and gave her a wink before he walked off with two cuts filled with matcha.

“Flattery isn’t going to make me forget Luke, but you actually paying would. Hi, sorry about th-” The barista yelled at Luke’s retreating back before they focused back on Marie. Jordan felt their jaw drop open as the person in front of them smiled sheepishly with a little twinkle in her eye.

“Uh you okay?” Marie asked as her smile dropped into a more confused expression.

“Yes, yup, sorry. Long day. What can I get you?”

“I actually have no idea, do you have anything that’ll get my paper written for me?” Marie asked as a laugh left her mouth. Jordan immediately thought that she had the nicest laugh she had ever heard. It was like the congruence of dozens of instruments.

“Unfortunately not, who do you have as your professor? I may be able to help, I graduated only like 2 years ago so I should be able to give some pointers.” Marie smiled in gratitude as she leaned onto the counter, getting closer to Jordan in the process.

“Powell.” Jordan let out a low, agonized groan as their face twisted in disgust.

“He’s still around?”

“Unfortunately.”

“God, that man is like the worst professor in history.”

“Totally agree. Uh, I’m Marie by the way.” Marie said as she extended her hand which Jordan promptly shook, they immediately took note of the slightly raised skin in the center of Marie’s palm.

“Jordan. Nice to-”

“Oh and who’s flirting with customers now, huh?” Andre teased as he walked back out into the main counter area and sent a cheeky smile to Marie.

“Fuck off Andre.” Marie let out a laugh at Jordan’s annoyed tone when she realized she was still holding their hand. She almost felt unable to pull away from the easy warmth that emanated from them. Then almost by magic Jordan’s hand slightly changed before her eyes and she glanced up to see that Jordan had shifted, only for them to pull their hand away from hers in favor of pushing Andre.

“Oww okay fine whatever, I shall stop your highness.” Andre exclaimed out as he retreated to the other cash register. Jordan turned around and stared at Marie for another second before a smile reappeared on his face.

“Sorry about that, no idea why I hired him.”

“It’s cause I’m the best, obviously.” Andre chimed out, making Jordan send him another poisonous glare which softened the second they looked back at Marie.

“So have you decided what you want?”

“Coffee I guess? That’s probably the only thing that will get me through this.”

“Actually… would you mind if I recommended something else? It was my tried and true fix when I was in the same boat as you.”

“Oh my god, you would do that?! Yes, please I will take anything.”

“Okay great, go ahead and set up anywhere and I’ll have Andre bring it to you.”

“Cool, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, you’re a first time customer and you look like you desperately need it.” Plus you’re too fucking pretty for me not to want you to come back soon - Jordan added in their head.

“I- thank you.”

“Of course.” Jordan flashed Marie a smile as she turned and walked over to one of the tables.

“Oh you’re so fucking gone for her.”

“Shut the fuck up Andre.”

i love their dynamic sm omggg

#gen v #limoreau #limoreau fanfic #jordan li #marie moreau #sam riordan #emma meyer #cate dunlap #andre anderson #cate dunlap fanfic #gen v fanfic #gen v fanfics #maria's random stuff #jordan x marie #mariejordan #jordan li x marie moreau

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

model!choi chanhee x fem!assistant!reader

you were just supposed to be his assistant, but at some point, you'd come to mean a lot more to him.

6.4k words (WHOOPS my hand slipped), technically s2l, fluff, angst if u squint, slight pining?, kissing, model stuff and first world problems 😔✨, like one curse word, barely proofread

a/n: istg it wasn't supposed to be like this ;-; it would have been longer but i got impatient </3

Choi Chanhee once made a girl cry because she had forgotten his phone in the car. In his defense, he hadn't gotten much shuteye the night prior, but Kevin liked to always remind him of that instance.

They said that was the first, true moment the tabloids began painting him in a new light.

'Choi Chanhee, Model-zilla, Hits the Streets of Paris for Fashion Week Once Again'. 'Choi Chanhee's Ex-assistants Come Forward with Shocking Experiences'. 'Satin or Silk: the Truth Behind New's Refusal to Wear Alexander McQueen'.

The last one didn't even make sense; Alexander McQueen only used silk, anyway, and Chanhee had walked in one of his shows a few years ago. Chanhee simply hadn't the time to pen the designer into his schedule since.

The one about assistants? Well, they were all entitled to free speech, but that didn't mean that he would spare them any mercy if they decided to blatantly lie about him. He could always trust Lee Sangyeon, his personal attorney, to take care of business, if and when any of his ex-employees decided that a good payout was comparable to spewing filth.

Then there was you.

Chanhee hadn't needed a new assistant in a little over half a year since you came along. Fresh out of university with a bachelor's in communication and punctuality, you waltzed into his life, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You'd sat across from him, no-nonsense; he hired you right there. (He had not regretted it since. This was the last time he would let anyone but himself do the interview process.)

The best part about you was not that you always had his schedule memorized before he did, or that you appeared at his apartment before the car picked you both up with his favorite coffee order, or that you actually had decent taste in perfume—not… that he paid attention to what perfume you wore—but it was the fact that you could look him in the eye when he spoke to you, and you to him.

"—and you have a fitting with Chanel at five o'clock this evening right after that meeting with Maison Margiela about the perfume line. We'll have just enough time to—"

Wow, your eyes were pretty in this lighting, he thought. The two of you sat before the massive, floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse apartment. The entire city laid sprawling at your feet while you sat across from each other at his breakfast table, eating blueberry muffins and drinking lattes.

And for some reason, all he could think about was how nice your hair looked again today, how brilliantly the shine in your eyes was from the sunlight, how impeccable your fashion sense was—even if it wasn't perfect, but that could easily be remedied. Chanhee would have to remind you to remind him to—

"Chanhee. Chanhee, are you listening to me?"

He snapped out with a flutter of his long eyelashes. He reached for his cup of coffee, delicately bringing it to his lips. "Hm? Of course, Maison and then Chanel. Did Changmin cancel our dinner or are we still on?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips when he saw how your expression lightened knowing that he was paying attention. You idly stirred your latte around with a little silver spoon. "He says he's still good to go for tonight. Same place, same time."

A nod. "Good."

He nudged up the Prada sunglasses on his nose as he turned his head slightly to gaze out the open window. It was an awfully beautiful day out today. The sunlight was gentle, the skies were an azure wave of silk, sewn with clouds of white. "Yn, dearest, are we clear until the Maison meeting?"

You blinked. "Yes," you answered, checking your watch for the hour, "it's 10:32 right now."

"Mm, that gives us about five hours to refresh your wardrobe."

Your lips parted, and he smiled in amusement. There was something so adorable about your flustered state. "Excuse me?"

"Call it a little token of my appreciation," he sang, standing up from the table to deposit his empty plate and cup into the kitchen sink. "Could you call the driver to round the front?"

"Oh, uh, sure—"

"Thanks, love. I'll be back in a few," he called to you just as he disappeared into his bedroom to freshen up. You were left at the breakfast table, dumbfounded. You'd only ever gone shopping with Chanhee for him or for someone else. Not you. You were always on the clock when you were with him, and you figured he would probably take everything you bought today out of your paycheck, but…

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your chest like the wings of a butterfly. This could either be the best thing that happened to you… or a complete shitshow.

There was something odd about walking into one of Chanhee's go-to leisure shopping stores—Dior—with the mindset that you were supposed to be shopping for yourself. Chanhee had asked the driver to pull up to the Dior storefront even as the regular paparazzi camped outside.

Your eyes gazed longingly at the Macy's across the mall.

Chanhee followed your gaze with a little scrunch of his nose. "Absolutely not," he clicked his tongue, dragging you out of the vehicle and to the sidewalk.

The press already dubbed you a "miracle" for being in his employ for longer than a day. But when they got shots of him literally hauling you into the Dior… you could imagine what they would all claim now. This was going to be a whole lot of cleanup, but you had learned after months of working with Chanhee that he was way tougher than he looked. He also didn't mind biting back.

When the two of you were safely stowed away within the guarded interior of Dior, you breathed easier.

Straightening, you greeted the staff members with a shallow bow, who did the same to both you and your boss.

Chanhee wiggled his fingers in silent greeting, then beelined for a white, quilted blazer on a mannequin. A worker scrambled after him to talk about the piece while another stuck by your side to make small conversation.

"How was your morning?" They asked you pleasantly.

"Oh, it was quite nice! How was yours?"

"Pretty quiet," they smiled. They were about to say something else when both of you were interrupted with Chanhee calling your name.

His eyes were pinned to you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Draped over his arm was a tapered coat of some sort, a dress, and… oh, god no. "Yn, come here."

You could already hear your wallet crying. "Chanhee, I literally cannot afford a single thing in here—"

He pressed a palm between your shoulder blades and steered you in the direction of the dressing rooms. "That's besides the point because I can afford them; that's what matters."

Surprise made your footing falter. "Huh?"

"Silly Yn-ie," he teased, "did you think I was gonna bring you all the way out here to not treat you?" Before you could say anything else, he was shoving the items into your arms, and your body into the grandiose space of the Dior dressing room. He winked over his glasses. "Now hurry and put them on. I wanna see!"

He ripped the curtain closed, and you stood there for a moment.

In your hands were the jacket, the dress, and a pair of shoes that probably cost you more than your entire bank account combined. You blew out a puff of air, just as you heard a staff member offer him a glass of champagne on the other side of the curtain.

"No getting out of this, Yn," you muttered to yourself, then began hanging everything up."

Chanhee was no stranger to the effect he had on people. In fact, he wielded it like a dagger. It was how he had gotten so far in this industry in the first place other than his immaculate good looks, of course. The face of an angel and an attitude of the devil—at least, that was what one article had said about him. He quite liked it, actually.

There was something wholly different about his effect on you as you stood beneath his scrutinizing, heated gaze, as you tried on piece upon piece. He loved being able to unabashedly stare at you, to take in your flustered expression as you did little spins for him in the outfit of choice. For once, you couldn't look him in the eye, and when you had done so once, it had been when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

It wasn't just the champagne he was tasting.

It was the next morning when you appeared in his home at 7 o'clock sharp, as usual, but with a new accessory hanging off your arm. It was one of the more low-key purses he had bought you yesterday—and to be honest, it was actually one of his personal favorites. It was a Chanel one, of course, and it complimented your pant suit quite nicely.

"Morning," you chirped, handing him his cup of coffee as he stumbled out of his room in a silk robe and with a yawn widening his mouth.

Chanhee smiled at the sight of you, graciously accepting the coffee from you. He leaned against the countertop next to you. "Good morning," he murmured lowly, peering at you over the rim of the cup, taking a languid sip.

He sighed as the caffeine began working its magic. "How are you this morning, dearest? Have a good night?"

You had set your purse down on the island, then moved away from him only to go check his refrigerator to see if he needed anything restocked. Always so attentive. "I had a good night. How was dinner with Changmin?"

"Lovely," he said fondly. "I see you are putting my gifts to use." His fingers danced along the gold chain draped along one end of the quilted leather.

He swore your cheeks flushed, but then again, his eyes had never tricked him for a second. "Ah, yes. Thank you so much for yesterday, by the way." The fridge closed softly, and you grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter to wash and munch on. "I really don't know how I can repay you—"

Chanhee dismissed you immediately, his wrist flicking outward. "Pfft, none of that. I told you it was all a token of my affection," he grinned, propping his chin onto his palm across the island counter from you. "And gratitude," he added. "I don't say this to just anyone, Yn, and I don't buy just anyone all that stuff—but I did it because I appreciate you."

Your chewing slowed and you swallowed. "Oh."

He said it so easily. God, was he lucky to have met you.

Knowing he had successfully rendered you speechless once more, he laughed lightly, deciding to change the subject. "What's today's schedule like?"

You immediately straightened; this was something you knew like the back of your hand. It was much more up your alley.

As you ran him through his activities today, you failed to notice the difference in his posture, the softer smile on his face, and the way his eyes could not leave you for a moment, not even to drink his coffee.

Grueling was an understatement. Today had been one of the worst days of your working existence under Chanhee's employ. You'd endured rough days and nights before, but today, it seemed to have been hassle after hassle after hassle. You probably got around thirty-thousand steps by how much you ran around trying to find emergency kits and emergency outfits and running to the emergency dry cleaner's.

As much as the fashion world enthralled you, sometimes you wondered how anyone could survive it.

Chanhee was just as maxed out as you were by the end. It was maybe three in the morning by the time the two of you collapsed into the backseat of his driver's car. Streets were barren at this time in the ungodly hours of morning, and your joints ached every time you breathed.

Chanhee was quiet as well as he leaned his head back against the headrest to allow his body some rest. He just barely managed to get through that last shoot—clearly the directors had no clue what they were doing, he thought with a dead look in his eyes. That was how he felt—dead. If it hadn't been for you swooping in with a creative direction…

You were brilliant; that much he was certain of. Without you, that shoot might have dragged on for another couple of hours, or Chanhee would have just walked out. Usually, he had a good sense and eye for things, but with everything that happened today, for once, he didn't have the energy to yell or direct.

He needed to treat you to brunch tomorrow, if he was even able to wake up in time—

His inner thoughts halted when he felt a sudden weight fall upon his left shoulder. He froze up.

Your head had slumped onto his shoulder, eyes closed and no doubt deep asleep. Your bangs had fallen out from the bounds of your ponytail and draped across your face as you slept. He could smell the Miss Dior on you with this proximity.

Chanhee smiled to himself, taking his other hand and brushing the hair from your face and gently caressing your cheek. "Cute," he murmured.

By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of his complex, Chanhee had made a couple of executive decisions.

He lightly roused you from your sleep, cooing into your ear, "Come on, Yn-ie. Let's get you to bed, hm?"

You hummed, lifting your head from his shoulder with a yawn. You rubbed your eye with no care for the makeup smudging. "Chanhee? Why're you still here?"

Normally, the driver would drop Chanhee off first and then you, especially when it came to late nights like this. But… what… was happening?

Chanhee helped you out of the car, thanking the driver while mustering up a kind smile for him. "You're too tired, love. I'm taking you upstairs to my place."

"Wait, I can't—" but you weren't physically protesting; your body ached and ached and ached. But this was your boss, your employer. This wasn't professional.

"Yn, you're exhausted," he countered, buzzing into the building and helping you inside.

You couldn't argue with him anymore. You just wanted your face to hit a pillow and be out for the night. "Okay," you mumbled, letting him press your face into his shoulder on the ride up the elevator.

"Good girl," he sighed. He tilted his head back against the elevator wall, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other cradling the back of your head. Just a little longer, then the both of you could finally get some well-deserved rest.

You would argue you had seen Choi Chanhee at some of his best and worst moments. He was one of the most beautiful human beings on this planet, and yet, none of the prior moments could even compare to when you stumbled out of his bedroom to the sight of his back to you as he fried eggs and ladled waffle batter into the maker in the kitchen. He had a big T-shirt hanging from his lean frame, as well as a pair of loose pajama pants on, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for everything to cook.

Even at ten in the morning, the light pink waves of his hair looked immaculately styled. You almost forgot he hadn't gotten a perm in awhile.

The panic of waking up in his sheets instead of yours had faded when you recalled your conversation with him just seven hours prior. He had managed to wrestle you into an extra set of sleepwear he just had lying around (Gucci, nonetheless), before he deposited you onto his bed, then promptly curled up outside on the living room couch.

You swallowed. Now what?

It was then that Chanhee turned around with an innocent look on his face. You watched as it melted into something softer at the sight of you. "Good morning, dearest," he beamed, "sleep well?"

Drowsiness lingered at the corners of your eyes, but you somehow managed a nod. "Yeah, how about you?" You asked him quietly. Actually, that had been some of the best sleep you'd ever had. Something about his sheets with high thread count and the smell of Chanhee lingering on everything. But you weren't just about to say that to him.

"Well enough," he replied. He waved you over. "Come sit; breakfast is almost ready."

Your eyes widened a smidge. That was for you? Now you really needed to go home. "Ah, I appreciate it, but I've practically overstayed my welcome—"

He sent you a look. "Yn, come have breakfast with me."

You caved. Because at this point, you'd already screwed yourself over. And breakfast really did smell nice; what was the difference between Chanhee making you breakfast and you bringing him breakfast from the café down the street?

(You didn't even want to go home, as much as your logical brain was trying to urge you towards.)

So the two of you breakfasted, and for a moment, you could forget, for once, that you were just supposed to be his assistant.

Some things changed after that morning, and Chanhee found himself getting you to stay over more and more often. Even if he had to come up with something stupid like "You haven't watched the 2001 New York Fashion Week rerun?" For some reason, you bought into all his excuses, and even though he knew it was probably because you were always attentive to his needs, a part of him liked to fantasize that you felt it, too.

The pull.

Something had shifted after that morning when he made you breakfast and the two of you ate together at the breakfast table. Sleep had lingered in your eyes, and your hair was a mess, but it was soft and beautiful and… he'd never been so in awe at someone's "I woke up like this" look.

His heart had leapt at the sight of you in those pajamas with that subtle pout to your lips.

God, he thought he might sweep you into his arms and kiss y—

"New. Chanhee. Choi Chanhee—"

He blinked, lifting his eyes from his menu to meet Changmin's. "Hm?"

Changmin wrinkled his nose at him, adjusting the sunglasses seated atop his head to hang from the collar of his dress shirt. (How it managed to hang with two buttons popped open, Chanhee chalked it up to fashion magic.) "You're awfully quiet today. What, tabloids finally shut you up?" He joked.

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "One of these days, I swear, they will render me speechless with their ridiculous delusions," he muttered airily, half-heartedly skimming the menu again.

He and Changmin were seated at their usual booth in their usual restaurant at their usual time. It was their weekly dinner together, something they had kept up since their university days in order to keep themselves grounded. They, of course, touched base with all of their university friends often, but the two of them were two peas in a pod. They even refused to let Sunwoo in on these weekly dinners specifically (something the younger friend was undoubtedly salty about).

Changmin could figure out when Chanhee was occupied with something other than the present. Usually, he was all up and out of his seat dealing out gossip or what torture he and you had been… oh.

Changmin cocked his head to the side, nostrils flaring slightly as he tried and failed to suppress a sly smile. "How's Yn these days?" He asked nonchalantly, lowering his eyes to the menu in front of him even though he always got the same thing every time.

To his credit, Chanhee didn't even react. "She's lovely as always. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno," Changmin drawled, "you haven't gushed about her like you usually do. I feel like you hang out with her more than me."

Chanhee raised a brow at his friend. "She's my assistant; of course I'm going to spend more time with her."

"Yeah, but—"

"And she's a lot more agreeable most of the time."

"Hey!"

Chanhee grinned in impish delight. "You asked."

Changmin sent him a stink eye, huffing as he raised his hand up to summon a waiter. "Yeah, whatever. Okay, but you literally refused to go out with me the other night, and when I texted Yn if you had a schedule, she said that you two were at home!"

That got his attention. Chanhee pursed his lips together, sheepishness peering through his smile. "In my defense, she hadn't seen New York Fashion Week in 2001."

"You hated that year, Chanhee."

"Exactly."

Changmin sighed to himself, and just as he was about to add on, a waiter came by to take their order. Once that was done, Changmin laced his fingers over the table and leveled his friend with a pointed look.

"Just admit that you like her."

Oh, Changmin. If only you could hear the rapid palpitations of his heart when you called him out like that. Chanhee blinked innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he swallowed.

It wasn't even two days later that Chanhee had you staying a little later at his place, once again. There was something jazzy and vibey playing in the background, while Chanhee finished up plating dinner and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You were over at the small table by the window pouring wine into twin glasses, your hair pulled haphazardly out of your face (for the most part) with a pearl-studded claw clip from Chanhee's personal PR box.

(You blatantly refused, but he then reminded you that he couldn't even use the clip himself.)

Chanhee didn't often think about sharing his life with someone, but it was moments like these—moments when he heard you hum under your breath, moments when the two of you could laugh about the day over dinner, moments when you weren't just his assistant but someone closer—that he could indulge himself. He wasn't a very domestic person; since childhood, he dreamed of places far away from home, seeing sights and experiencing cultures… but if he could come home to you? And experience this every time?

Suddenly dinner was over, and you were collecting dirty dishware and glasses to bring to the sink to wash.

"Yn-ie, hey, I can wash those—"

"No, no! You made dinner; I am washing dishes," you asserted, pushing him away from the sink when he tried to come up to you.

Chanhee broke into a laugh, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders and rub the upper parts of your arms. "Okay, okay. Thanks, love," he said. He didn't even think before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and walked off to go to the bathroom.

Your cheek tingled where his lips had been, and you turned the faucet on to drown out the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears. What was happening?

You felt like you were floating on air as you hummed to the music and washed the dishes, with the ghost of Chanhee's lips left lingering on your cheek. It served as a reminder of your growing affections for him. This was dangerous, dangerous territory, and yet… it was thrilling. It was new, bold, and delectable. It was Chanhee, for goodness sake.

He was the man you saw crying drunkenly over a cat video on TikTok, the man who lended you Gucci pajamas and his bed for the night. He was on the face of every magazine cover, always excited when you could read his mind about a certain piece of clothing. Everyone in the world wanted to be him or be with him. He was so out of reach, yet right in front of you.

Maybe it was the wine making your head buzz with this wave of unmitigated sentimentality.

You finished up with the dishes, drying off your hands with the towel hanging on the oven door. Chanhee sang your name out from somewhere deep inside his bedroom, and you followed his voice to his location.

He was seated on the rug in the middle of his walk-in closet, the white LEDs washing you with light. It was a far cry from the darkness of his bedroom and the warmth from the kitchen. Chanhee patted the spot next to him on the carpet, where he had a smattering of PR gifts littering the floor around him.

Curious, you lowered yourself next to him. "Are we sorting through PR stuff?" You asked, already making a mental catalog of all the things he'd probably want to keep and the things he'd want to donate.

Chanhee hummed his dissent, rising onto his knees and shuffling over to you. Your eyes widened as he stopped close to you and you held your breath. He raised a pair of twin diamond drop earrings from Tiffany and Co to your earlobes, eyes narrowed in consideration.

"No," he muttered, dumping the earrings into their box, then digging out another.

You scrambled to delicately put the earrings back into their proper holdings. "Chanhee, what are we doing?"

"You—" Chanhee returned with a pair of sapphire earrings this time, performing the same ritual as before, but this time smiling, "—are going to sit still and look pretty for me. I am going through the PR stuff for anything nice."

"Anything nice?" You parroted in disbelief. It wasn't like he just threw a pair of diamond earrings into a box like it wasn't nice, or anything.

"I've never seen you in pearls before," he said offhandedly. From a black velvet bag, he withdrew a string of pearls clasped at the end in gold. His mouth parted in awe, and you suddenly thought of how cute he looked. Chanhee, oftentimes, was attractive and elegant and spellbinding—but this Chanhee was adorable.

He eyeballed it around your neck, then moved to clasp the collar onto you. He brushed the stray strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, gently grazing the pads of his fingers along the warm skin there. The action sent a shudder down your spine, and you were reminded of the cheek kiss from earlier.

"There," he murmured, coming back around to inspect you from the front. "Looks much better on you than it would on me."

You scoffed, reaching up to touch the cool pearls seated on your collarbone. "I disagree wholeheartedly."

He had turned around to go digging again, but the grin he threw over his shoulder at you was a certified heart stopper. "Then we'll just have to go get me a matching one."

"This is the last time I'm letting a company get me lunch," Chanhee grimaced as both you and he feverishly dabbed at the sauce splattered on his cream silk blouse.

One of the interns working on today's interview and shoot had come to deliver him his lunch when you noticed that the sauce lid on top was a dark red and not the usual light mayo Chanhee always requested beforehand. That, as well as the fact that the lid wasn't fastened all the way. Suffice to say that when you were about to point it out, said intern became flustered at Chanhee's side profile and spilled his lunch onto him.

You made sure to send the intern away before Chanhee could react.

"This was the Burberry one Haknyeonie got me," he whimpered in devastation as he took in the mess of dark brownish-red on his chest.

"Hey, it's okay. The cleaner I usually go to can fix it up," you said, biting your lip and assessing the situation. You gave a sigh, straightening, then swiping at the dampness on your forehead. "For now, you'll have to change into something else."

Chanhee pouted. "I promised I would wear this one for the interview…" He glanced back over at the clothing rack in the far corner of the dressing room at the dozens of options he had, as well as the backups you had brought, when all he wanted was to wear the shirt Haknyeon had given to him.

You wondered how long you had until the interview. You wondered how fast you could run to the dry cleaners and how fast they could fix this, if only to make that pout on Chanhee's face go away.

He pursed his lips. "I'll change into the YSL one," he resolved, standing from his vanity chair to go grab the YSL blouse from its garment bag. "Y'know," he said to you as he disappeared behind the changing divider, "we'll probably see something about this in the tabloids sometime tomorrow, depending on how bored the press people are."

You leaned back against the vanity counter, mentally noting the time. Hair and makeup would be here soon since the interview was set for half past noon. Chanhee would have to wait until afterwards before he could eat lunch. You frowned, "It wasn't your fault, Chanhee."

"I know." You saw him drape the dirtied Burberry blouse over the top of the divider and you walked over to take it down and inspect the damage yourself. "But it doesn't have to be my fault."

Unfortunately, he was right. The press would do anything for a juicy story, even if that meant twisting the facts just a little. You abhorred those stories; you always saw Chanhee's eyes glaze over like a shield at the "model-zilla" headlines, when in fact, it had little to do with Chanhee's "attitude". You wondered if someone would blow up his reaction to this out of proportion—he hadn't said anything to the intern before they ran out of the room in tears, but you supposed if you had spilled coffee on someone with as much name power as Chanhee, then you would also freak out.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, leaning slightly against the divider. A weight sank into the pit of your gut; you felt pathetic. These were one of the few things you couldn't just fix for him.

You thought you felt him lean back against the divider on the other side. "Nothing to be sorry for, dearest. It's just a shirt."

It wasn't just a shirt. It wasn't just the tabloids.

Chanhee, being the professional he was, carried on through the interview and subsequent photoshoot with elegance and grace. He wasn't in a bad mood, save for the slight melancholy in his smile when the intern's superior came by to apologize profusely and offer to have the blouse dry-cleaned for him. Chanhee politely declined—he only trusted one person with his items.

When you and Chanhee finally made it back to his penthouse suite, the sun had disappeared into the seams of the horizon, hoisting a bejeweled night into the sky. Chanhee collapsed onto the couch face-first while you dropped everything on the floor by the door and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

"I'm making tea," you declared.

Chanhee raised his head slightly. "Me too please."

You got the electric kettle started and brought out two porcelain mugs. While you waited for the water to finish boiling, you fished your phone out of your pocket to check your messages to see if the dry cleaners had alerted you yet as to the status of the blouse. On the way back, you had swung by to get the shirt to the dry cleaners. Hopefully it would be done by tomorrow morning so you could go pick it up.

Chanhee shifted and adjusted his positioning on the couch. He sat upright, leaning his cheek against his fist. "Yn-ie."

"Hm?"

"I'm lonely over here."

You huffed air out of your nostrils in a silent chuckle, but obliged him and went over to the couch. He raised his arms up toward you, making grabby hands and pouting. "You're lonely?" You repeated in amusement, slotting yourself next to him and allowing him to curl into your side.

"Well, not anymore," he said into your shoulder.

The apartment filled with the sound of water bubbling on the stove and the muffled sounds of the city outside the window.

With nothing said, you could imagine for a second that this was not your job, but your life instead.

You felt him move a little, his arms wrapping around your stomach. "Thank you," he murmured, "for everything."

Your chest tightened. "Of course," you replied simply. Because doing all of this for him was as easy as breathing air now. Taking care of him had become as easy as breathing air. It was just that simple.

He was quiet again, fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of your blazer. Something lingered in his mind.

"Yn…" He slowly brought himself to sit up straight, one hand braced on the cushion space between your bodies and the other on the back of the couch. His face was so close—you could see the baby pink hairs falling in his eyes, the bits of glitter on his eyelids, the length of his lashes brushing his cheeks. But there was something wobbling, shimmering in his irises like the ripples in a pool of water. "I think we need to talk."

Your voice was trapped in your throat. He was going to fire you. He was going to tell you that all of it had been a lie. He was going to—stop. Stop freaking out. You knew him. You knew him better than what the people on the outside only claimed to know about him. You gulped. "Okay."

Chanhee brought his hand up toward your face, but instead stopped short, his hand dropping. He wet his lip, head ducking for a second before meeting your eyes again. "You know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, right?"

Oh no.

You nodded shallowly, hands clasped in your lap. "Mhm."

"And you know that I would rather hurt myself before ever hurting you?"

You didn't like where this was going. "Chanhee—"

His eyes shuddered. "Just—just listen for a second. I promise I'll let you speak, just… I just need to get this out."

"I can't really think straight," you croaked. His cologne—god his cologne. You would die suffocating in his cologne, but he was so close and yet so out of reach.

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry—" He was leaning back now, and you were internally hitting yourself. You'd never heard Choi Chanhee stutter before.

You resisted the urge to say "come back". Come back, where you could pretend that he was yours. Shit, this had gone too far. "Chanhee, I think I have to quit."

Alarm shot his eyes wide open. "What?"

"I can't keep working for you because I have feelings for you," you blurted, staring him straight in the eyes. "I have to quit because the feelings—the want—I have for you are so strong and precariously unprofessional. And I'm sorry, because this was the best job I could've ever gotten, but—"

Chanhee grabbed your face and crushed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up. Shock had you freezing, but it wasn't long before you held him close and let him wholly devour you.

When he pulled away, his forehead was pressed against yours, the space between your lips near nonexistent. His hands were still cupping the sides of your face and his breathing was slightly labored; all either of you could feel, hear, smell, taste were each other.

"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudibly you thought you'd imagined it. But then he said it again, "I love you", and everything…

Everything settled.

"How could you?" After all, you were just… you. It seemed impossible that someone as high as he was could love someone like you.

His reply was simple, paired with a sweet return to your lips. "How could I not?"

You stood outside the massive, sky-piercing high-rise of Vogue headquarters, your heart pounding in your ears and your fingers drumming nervously against the seam of your dress pants. In about twenty minutes, you would be in the topmost office of the building interviewing for a chance to become CEO Anna Wintour's newest personal assistant.

"Well?"

You glanced over to your left where Chanhee stepped beside you, asking the driver to make a loop around the building and meet him back here in a few minutes. His hair, freshly dyed a silken midnight black, had grown slightly to mullet-length; and this morning, he was clad in a pristine white suit set in a classy contrast. A pearl collar sat on his defined collarbones like it was a throne. Beautiful, as always.

There were reporters lurking around here somewhere. That definitely didn't make any of this better for you.

You released a breath. "I've got this, right?"

He passed you a gentle, yet teasing grin. "Hey, you survived me. How much worse can she be?"

That made you crack a smile.

The two of you stood side by side staring up at the building for a moment longer. After you had quit being his assistant to instead be accepted as his partner, you and Chanhee worked to find you a new gig. You received about a hundred dozen job offers from lesser brands and big names when they all heard you were leaving Chanhee's employ on good terms. Anyone who survived Chanhee, and left with a stellar recommendation letter, was a hot commodity.

Chanhee reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers slightly. "Breathe, darling. You'll be in and out and hired before you know it."

He turned you around so you faced him. His tongue stuck out between his lips as he adjusted the pearl necklace around your throat, then the lapels of your jacket. "Wow," he breathed out.

"Huh?" You hummed with a smile in your eyes.

"You still take my breath away."

A nervous laugh fell from your lips, and Chanhee swooped in to taste it—that, your laugh.

"I love you," he murmured against your mouth. Nevermind all the press and paparazzi, or Anna Wintour, or anyone. This was just you and him, even for a little. You could imagine the headlines, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.

Your tongue swiped over his bottom lip to catch the last bits of him. "I love you, too."

There was a cunning glint in his eyes, offset by the soft smile on his face. "Okay, this is it. Call me if you need anything."

You began walking toward the entrance backwards. "What if I need you?"

His smile widened. "I said call me, didn't I? Anytime, anywhere." I'm yours.

tbz m.list

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