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sun-kissy · 3 months ago

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chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

୨ৎ series masterlist

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

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hier--soir · 1 year ago

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a lover's pinch | six

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: joel and rachel have dinner. a confession is made. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, JOEL POV, sexting/nudes, joel has bad restaurant etiquette lmao, descriptions of arousal, references to past smut, the guilt and shame that sometimes go so neatly hand in hand with wanting, miller daughter cameo, mild angst, discussion of a car accident. word count: 4.8k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: just a reminder that this is set within ALP5, when joel goes to have dinner w rachel. just a short little peek into my beloved professor’s mind, and some context between j & r. hope you like it x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part six of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five.

Sunday.

“Nina thinks it’ll rain tomorrow. Overcast too, probably.”

There’s a faint hum through the phone as she speaks. A vague buzz that crackles and pops in almost every beat of silence. Not for the first time, Joel wishes she would let him buy her a new phone.

A gust of wind whips against his face and he cringes, turning his back against the draft.

“Okay,” he replies. “That’s okay, right?”

“It’s fine,” she grumbles. “Wanted to take you to this bar, though. They do these tacos we love. Nina says it’s the best Mexican place in New York.”

“Now how many times do I have to tell you there’s no good Mexican food in New York?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Joel can practically hear her rolling her eyes. He chuckles.

“What time are you coming ‘round?” Ellie asks. “I’ll be in the studio for most of the day, but we normally get home around five. Could do dinner around eight?”

Joel hesitates, and then raises his voice to be heard over the rushing wind. “I was actually thinkin’ I’d come see your studio.”

A moment of humming, crackling silence.

“I’d love to see some of your work,” he continues, peering in through the window of the restaurant. He thinks he can see Rachel through the frosted glass – her mess of dark curls vaguely visible, tucked away somewhere in the corner of the space. He hears Ellie breathing through the phone as he looks. “And s’been too long since you showed your old man any of your paintings.”

“Joel,” she huffs, and it’s that smartass, pained tone that has him grinning wider than anything she’s said up until this point.

It’s few and far between lately – hearing that name coming from her mouth. Joel. Something that’s been intermittent for almost a decade, and has been steadily decreasing since she moved to New York five years ago.

Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad.

Joel for years, and then one day—Dad.

It was Summer; Ellie was eighteen and he was thirty-nine, and this word that he’d grown so accustomed to hearing suddenly felt like a fist squeezing around his heart. It became something new, something different. Because Joel knew that, for her, family had always meant mistrust. Had always meant loneliness. Knew that sometimes her childhood felt like a knife stuck in her throat, and on those days, she had to decide whether to leave it in and stem the blood flow, or pluck out the blade and watch everything turn red.

And then one day, years on, it seemed that she’d drawn that dagger enough times. The blood stopped, the mistrust fell away, and—Dad.

Dad to Sarah and now, finally, Dad to Ellie.

“Ellie,” he imitates her tone, well-versed in mirroring her attitude after so many years of practice.

A voice rears up directly behind him and Joel stiffens, glancing over his shoulder to watch a couple exit the restaurant. Coat collars dragged up to protect their necks, arms linked as they smile and start down the street. He imagines Rachel sitting inside, alone, and his smile falters. He knows he should go back in soon, but can’t quite bring himself to cut this short.

“Yeah, okay,” Ellie answers finally, and he can feel the weight that rests in those words.

The admission, but also everything that goes unsaid alongside it. A silent acknowledgement of years spent reading between the lines, trying to know each other; years of her locking her bedroom door, hiding her journals, her artbooks, her pencils. Anything to keep someone else from seeing the way she expresses herself – from understanding that she feels anything. And this yeah, okay – well, it’s as close to I love you as the two of them ever get.

Joel says, “I’ve been missin’ you, kiddo.”

And she says, “I know.”

More silence. More contemplation of how to respond, how to keep emotions level when he is not Joel in this moment, but Dad.

Plucking out the blade.

“Ten tomorrow morning. I’ll send you the address,” Ellie says after a while. “Don’t be late or I’m not showing you shit, old man.”

Heat blasts his face when he steps back inside the restaurant. He tugs his jacket off as he wanders his way toward their little corner table inside San Vecchio—old saint. A small Italian place that Rachel likes to visit whenever she’s the city, and has slowly but surely grown on him.

When he gets close enough to see the table his stomach drops, face twisting into something apologetic as he lowers himself into his chair.

“Shit,” Joel mutters, staring at their food. Brought out while he was on the phone, sitting untouched; she didn’t even pick up her fork in his absence. A shameful heat rises in his face. “I’m sorry, Rach.”

“Hon,” she just laughs him off. “It’s okay, it only just came out.”

He nods, grateful, and lets her pour him a generous glass of wine. Red. A bottle of the Carignan, please, he remembers her telling the waiter. Although, when he takes a sip, he can’t tell the difference between this and the twenty-dollar cabernet he buys once a fortnight from the grocer.

They press the lips of their glasses together and murmur soft calls of cheers and another conference done, the words all but swallowed up by the raucous sounds around them.

“How is she then?” she prompts, never able to tame her curiosity.

“Ellie?” Joel’s eyebrows jut up, and he sets his wine glass down. “Good, yeah, good. It was nice to hear her voice, I, uh, I’ve missed too many of that kid’s calls over the past few months.”

Rachel nods, and when she smiles his chest feels a little lighter, because it’s the type of smile that says it’s okay, everything is okay, you’re a good dad, you took the call. And she has always had that kind of soothing effect on him, since the day he met her all those years ago. There’s this compassion to her character; a warmth akin to that of a sister. Smarter than hell and kinder than she’s ever been given credit for.

“Are you seeing her while you’re in town?”

“Mhm, tomorrow.”

“Well, that will be lovely,” she beams and takes a sip of her wine. Carignan stains her mouth. “Is she still with Nina?”

“She is.”

“God, that must be, what, four years they’ve been together now? That’s great, Joel.”

“I’m happy for her,” he smiles, gripping his fork. “They’re renting out this art studio together at the moment – Nina’s an artist too, did I—?”

“Yeah, you told me.”

“Yeah, they’ve been using the space to work on some new stuff. Ellie was tellin’ me ‘bout this gallery downtown, how they’ve offered her some exhibit space. Gonna have a show down there in March.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing,” Rachel’s eyebrows raise, top lip quirking into a soft smirk as she twirls her fork through a mess of red pasta. “Do you think they’ll get married? Follow in Sarah and Tim’s footsteps?”

Joel can’t help but laugh at the idea. He tries to imagine Ellie and Nina in a chapel, or on a beach, or anywhere, professing their love for one another with friends and family watching on. Tries to imagine Ellie, all tattoos, messy hair, and gangly arms, tucked into a suit or a dress. The image doesn’t come easily.

“I don’t really think they’re the type,” he admits, and Rachel laughs too then.

“No,” she agrees. “I guess not.”

She asks more questions about the girls, the way she always does. Asks about Sarah’s job at the primary school, if teaching is all she thought it would be.

And something like halfway through their meal, around a mouthful of food, Rachel says, “You know I’m glad we’re here, because I need to ask you something.”

Joel’s hands still, face going slack as he meets her eye. There’s something conniving in them. Something sly in the way she smiles, baring her teeth at him. It makes his stomach twist into a tight, burning knot. What does she know?

“Okay,” he says slowly, lowering his knife.

“So,” she hums. “At the conference yesterday…”

“Yeah?” he rasps, blunt nails digging into his thigh beneath the table.

“I couldn’t ask you about it because I didn’t want anyone to overhear us, but… did you see what Professor Neilson was wearing? That blazer?”

“Jesus,” he deflates.

“Oh, come on,” she sputters, and there’s lipstick stained on her front teeth and he finds himself smiling too, relaxing.

“You’re a filthy gossip, you know that?” he raises an eyebrow.

She grins back at him. Winks and says, “Don’t act like you don’t love it, Miller.”

So, for an hour they eat, and talk, and drink. Don’t stop until their cheeks are sore from smiling and their ribs are tight and aching from laughter.

With full bellies and rosy cheeks, they scrape their plates clean. Lips purse and pucker around final sips of wine, and then… and then Rachel reaches across the table and places her hand atop his.

And Joel has never noticed that she has sunspots across her knuckles. Never noticed that she wears a ring on her pinkie finger, one with a dark emerald stone in the middle. Never noticed the thin white scar beside the nail on her index. She squeezes his hand, the pad of a finger skimming his wrist, and he remembers how he held someone else’s wrist only hours before this. Felt her skin beneath his fingers – the frailty of the tendons and veins beneath it, swimming with life as his thumb pressed down.

Joel feels his eye twitch. Works to keep his face relaxed, calm. And when she leaves her hand there, he laughs a little. A choked, wary sound. Turns his hand over so his knuckles are against the table and his palm is against her palm and squeezes once in return. Rachel isn’t smiling anymore.

“You okay, Rach?”

“Do you…” she pauses, mouth twisting into a shy smile as she clears her throat. Joel feels something heavy settle in his stomach. A type of dread that curdles and burns like red sky at morning. “Do you remember when Sarah was in that car accident a few years back?”

Joel swallows. Her hand feels too warm against his, her palm tacky with sweat.

“We were… we were at work, and… and Tim called you and told you she was in the hospital—”

He almost cringes at the memory. Her husband’s name flashing across his phone screen during a lecture. Stomach churning and why is Tim calling me, heart racingand Tim never calls. Remembers hearing those panicky breaths down the line and thinking Texas and Maine had never felt further apart than in that moment.

“You drove me to the airport,” he nods. His knuckles feel tight – he wants to pull his hand back and crack them. Wants to feel the joints pop beneath his skin, let the tension slip away like a sigh.

“You were so distraught,” Rachel sighs. “I’d never seen you like that. So uncomposed, so… chaotic.”

Joel huffs out an awkward laugh and tries to pull his hand back, but she squeezes harder. Keeps it in place beneath her own.

“What’s this all about?” his eyebrows furrow, face pinching into a sort of scowl. He can feel it, he can always feel it when his face does this. So unpleasant, so unwelcoming, and he knows it. Just never figured out how to stop it from happening.

“We were in the car,” she continues, and her eyes are so earnest now. So wide, the whites shining, her lashes darkened and fanned out around them in a way he’s never seen before. She’s wearing makeup. “And you didn’t even have a bag packed, you just wanted to get to your girl. Needed to see her with your own eyes, make sure she was okay.”

His jaw feels tight inside his head; teeth clenched painfully, digging into the gums around his molars as the memory plays in his mind.

Tim’s voice wavering, crying, she was unconscious when they pulled her out.

His hand is numb beneath Rachel’s. She’s fine, he reminds himself. Sarah’s fine, that was years ago.

“I think I knew then,” she says quietly.

“Knew what?” Joel tries to keep his voice level. Ignoring the odd feeling that twists in his chest and has his heart racing faster, so much faster than normal, faster than it has ever raced for Rachel.

“That I loved you.”

It’s almost dreamlike, the way everything seems to blur and fade around them after she says it. Or perhaps nightmarish is the right word. A sharp pain sparks between his ribs and he feels his body stiffen and then loosen all at once. Face, shoulders, hand beneath hers – everything softens. Fuck. His mouth tastes like sandpaper, tongue resting fat and gravelly against the roof of it as she stares at him.

When he doesn’t say a word, she says, “I’d always known you were so kind, so generous to the people around you. But to see the way you love? It’s… shit, Joel, I just knew.”

He’s convinced his throat is tightening.

“And I held it in all of these years, and I’m sorry for that. I was just never sure of how you felt, and you never tried anything with me, never hinted at any feelings. But after the conference yesterday...”

“The conference?” he whispers. He pictures that bench outside NYU. Remembers the nasty wind, an empty champagne flute on the ground, the side of his body going hot where it pressed against hers.

“Walking around that hall together,” Rachel smiles. “You kept holding your arm out for me to hold, and I thought, god, maybe this is it. Maybe you actually feel the same.”

Joel imagines that this must be what people describe as critical velocity. Everything that once was smooth turns turbulent. Every second, every minute, that he’s allowed himself to careen forward, wanton and reckless, on the deliciously destructive course he’s set for himself – all of it just for someone close to him to step directly into his line of fire.

And his silence is so painfully telling. He knows immediately when it’s been too long, too much quiet, too many seconds of nothing said, of no reassurances offered. The muscle in her jaw ticks, and a vertical line appears between pinched eyebrows. Confusion, surprise, hurt. Her hand pulls back, and he tucks his in his lap quickly.

“Oh,” she whispers. “Oh, shit.”

Joel is suddenly certain that he’s going to be sick. His hands shake beneath the table, a violent tap tap tap where they’re clasped against the inside of his thigh.

“Rachel—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Please, don’t apol—”

“I shouldn’t have said—”

“Rachel,” Joel’s voice raises, just a little, just enough to make her pause, enough for conversation at the table beside them to halt for a second. “If anythin’, I should be the one apologisin’.”

She laughs; a sad, quiet thing. Shakes her head at him.

“I guess I… somewhere in my head, I thought you knew,” Rachel says quietly. “Thought you….” The unspoken words hang in the air between them. Thought you felt the same.

And it hurts. His skin prickles at the sound of her voice; laced with pain, with rejection. Your fault, he thinks. That pain is your fault.

“Is there someone else?” she asks then, and her voice is so feeble. So small, so un-Rachel that it makes his chest feel tight. Your fault.

Joel sighs, cringes, fumbles for the right words. The words to explain something that he himself doesn’t even fully understand. Words that will make her feel better, that will put her at ease. Put him at ease.

“It’s not….” he trails off, half-prepared to lie. But then he meets her gaze. Sees the tears that have settled on her waterline and knows he can’t. Wants to hate her for asking, wants to beg her to take back the question. But in the end he just admits quietly, “I suppose there is.”

She sniffles, and when she speaks again, it almost sounds like a question.

“You never mentioned anyone.”

“I know,” Joel nods. “I’m sorry, I think I just… it’s complicated, and it… it’s new.”

“New,” she repeats softly. “And you never… you never thought of me that way.” This time it isn’t posed like a question. There is nothing open ended about it. Instead it’s resigned; final.

The corners of her mouth are downturned, and her lower lip wobbles, a movement so miniscule that he could have missed it if his eyes weren’t trained on her face. Trying painfully to understand this situation that feels as if it has crept up on him in his sleep.

“I’m sorry,” Joel finds himself saying again, and he thinks his eyes must be wide, unblinking, because they’re dry, and he feels panicked.

In his mind all he can think of is every cup of coffee in her office, every borrowed book, every sly joke in the corridor at work. Comforting smiles offered at conferences, snarky notes passed back and forth during faculty meetings. His friend. One of the truest, longest, most persevering ones in his life. One so dear to his heart. The idea of all of that being no more seems almost too painful to contemplate in the middle of a restaurant, with your fault thundering in his chest.

Rachel waves a hand. Feigns nonchalance and offers a watery smile.

“I’m happy for you, Joel,” she says. He doesn’t miss the waver in her voice, nor the harsh splash of crimson humiliation that stains the skin of her face. “I am. Really.”

Except he doesn’t know how to respond to that, doesn’t know what there is to be happy for. Can only watch her face. Can only sit, and stare like a fool at the way the skin beneath her eyes tightens as she draws back tears.

“I’m—” Rachel swallows. Sucks in a huge breath and flattens her palms against the table. Her napkin, stained with soft blots of red and brown, is pressed beneath the fingers of her left hand. The one with the sunspots and the ring and the scar. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m going to use the restroom—”

“Rach,” he tries, hand reaching across the table for—for what? Joel isn’t sure. What is there to do? To say? “What can I do?”

“It’s okay,” she stands, holds a hand out to silence him. Steps out from the behind table and squeezes past him. Her fingers brush against his arm as she goes. “It’s fine, I’m fine, I just need a second to freshen up.”

Joel watches her weave through the restaurant, shifting around tables, until her back disappears through a door at the far end of the room.

There’s a minute of painful quiet. A sort of buzzing in his ears that won’t go away. For a moment all he’s aware of is the look of disdain coming from the woman on the table to his left, and the sharp pain in his chest, and then the sounds of the restaurant come rushing back in. Cutlery scraping against plates, conversation, laughter, the sound of a bell ringing. And something buzzing, really truly buzzing this time. Something against his leg.

Joel pulls his phone out of his pocket and tries not to wince when he sees her name on the screen.

Are you enjoying your dinner?

The glance he spares over his shoulder is short, searching, looking to see if she’s coming back yet. Don’t make this worse than it already is.

Yeah, the restaurant is nice.

What are you doing?

Well my bags are packed, and I just tucked myself into bed

Something tightens in his stomach, and he knows what she’s doing, knows this game so well. The way she always manages to creep beneath his skin. Knows exactly what to say, to do, to have him hanging on her every word.

His fingers hover over the screen, contemplating a response.

Is that right? he types out, and then grimaces, backspacing quickly.

Want some company? he types next.

“Christ,” Joel mutters under his breath, erasing that too.

Embarrassment itches across his body. And then guilt, like a tidal wave chaser rushing to cool his inflamed skin, as he notices Rachel walking back toward him. You fucking asshole.

He straightens in his seat, tucking his phone out of sight as she hovers beside the table, eyes darting between him and her empty chair. She doesn’t sit down again.

“I think,” she takes a deep breath. “I think I should probably go. Early flight to catch, you know? I need to get some rest.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

He can feel his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded, ridiculous, as his brain scavenges for something to say. Never the right words, never when he needs them. Not for her, and not for Rachel.

Rachel reaches for her purse, and he holds out a hand. “Hey, let me… I’ll cover this.”

She pauses, nods. “Thanks.”

“Course,” he says gruffly. She pulls her coat from the back of her chair, wraps it around herself and does the buttons up slowly. Her mascara is smudged. “Hey, Rach, can we… should we talk about this some more? I don’t want to—”

“Not tonight,” she interrupts sharply. “Please, Joel, I’m sorry, just…. not tonight.”

—lose you.

“Sure, okay.” His throat is tight, your fault lodged heavy against his Adam’s apple. “You need help to get a taxi?”

“I’m fine,” she places a hand lightly on his shoulder, and presses her thumb against the skin beneath his collarbone. “Get home safe, okay? We can talk in Maine.”

“In Maine,” he repeats, and the words split and sour inside his mouth. “Okay.”

He doesn’t watch her leave. Doesn’t want to have to see her retreating from him. Doesn’t want to think about if this will be the last time they get to do this.

The waiter returns and he pays the bill, hastily jotting down a generous tip, and offers the women at the table on his left a tight-lipped smile before standing up.

When he finally makes his way outside, he finds a tax idling by the curb, lights on. The driver notices Joel staring; rolls down the window and raises his eyebrows. Where to?

Joel only shakes his head a little, leans his back against the dank, cold brick wall behind him. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before opening his phone, and sends two words.

Show me.

And then, when she doesn’t respond for a moment, he sends another message. Insistent now. Desperate, and even more desperate not to let it show.

I know you want to show me, sweetheart.

And when she does show him, it takes all of his might not to let this guilt consume him. Takes everything not to ruminate on how quickly he can shift from I’m sorry to Show me.

Because her skin.

So much skin.

Soft, smooth; shrouded in a robe that covers more than he’d like, and he knows how it tastes. Knows how it feels. Could press his fingers, his lips, his nose, to every part of it that he’s touched, in the exact same places, from memory alone.

It’s cold outside – windy, the beginnings of tomorrow’s storm twisting through the air. He feels it snake across his neck, curl beneath the lip of his collar, as he takes in the curve of her breast, the stiff point of her nipple, peeking out from behind white fabric. His cock stiffens in his pants.

He gazes at the softest part of her stomach, the thatch of curls that cover her mound, and wants to press his palms against the plush of her thighs. Wants to lay himself atop her, feel that skin against his again, hear her whimper and moan beneath the broad weight of him as he slips inside her. Wants to snatch her finger from her mouth and glide it inside his own. With her slick and her skin against his tongue, he’d sink his teeth in and inhale that warmth, that beating, pulsating force that he’s found himself so intoxicated by.

And to think, only hours ago, he was doing just that. Lowering himself to the ground in a public bathroom and drinking her down. Feeling the muscles in her thighs pull tight and then loose against the sides of his head. Anything to satisfy the craving that only she seems to inspire in him.

Resolute, persistent – a probing, prodding thing that nips at his heels and thrusts him forward at a double time pace.

A hunger that follows him down the nights and down the days.

A hunger that can only ever be sated like the taking of a sacrament – on his knees, devotion in his eyes.

Jesus.

Are you wet?

You know I am.

Are you touching yourself?

Joel’s jaw tightens. He holds his breath and waits. Can’t quite tell what would be worse; knowing that she’s touching herself, alone, thinking about him, or that she isn’t, that she’s waiting for him. He can feel his cock leaking against his thigh.

No.

He exhales heavily, and the faintest hint of a groan slips out with it. Fuck, pull yourself together.

Joel’s fingers float over the keyboard, and for a moment he thinks of Rachel.

Thinks that if he could only bring himself to look up, to look away from her, he might be able to see Rachel still. The back of her coat, the dark scrawl of her hair, disappearing into the night. Joel thinks of the tears in her eyes, taunting him, threatening to spill spill spill, to streak down rosy cheeks and wet the hollow of her throat. Feels something throb and crack in his chest – a painful, resounding ache that hurts so much like fear, like loss.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

And wouldn’t that be so much easier? If he were to look away, to chase his friend down the street and tell her that he was wrong, that he wants her, that it makes sense for them to be together. Wouldn’t it be easier if that were true?

But he doesn’t stop looking at her. He thinks of Pothos, of Himeros, and stares at the soft curve of her stomach, the indent of her belly button. Looks at the way her lower lip rests below her finger and pictures it swollen, slick with a medley of her spit and his. Even notices a small mark, nestled in the crevice between her hip and the top of her thigh. A fading remnant of where his teeth had once pinched – like a tangible little footprint, whispering that he was there.

Longing and desire flame between the cracks of his ribs; a bright white heat that curls itself around your fault until he manages to shake the thought.

What was it that Kaminsky said? There was no mythology: Odysseus hanged himself. Homer drank to death and stank of mud.

And perhaps he was right; for there is no witness to this. No being over his shoulder, God or mortal, to lay their eyes upon this moment and understand that all he has ever known of love is deprivation. That fondest, blindest, weakest part of his being that has always yearned for, or perhaps grieved over, this love that once seemed so intangible and now, at last, maybe he has been deemed worthy of.

Alone so long, living in a body grown accustomed to such quiet. Familiar with no touch other than that of his own rough palms. And now… the intensity of it shakes within him. The urge to sink his teeth in like a bad dog and hold, hold, hold, to consume and be consumed, and never yield to anyone who wants to take this away from him.

No, there is no looking away from that, from her. Joel feels the noose tighten around his neck the longer he stares – a dog on the leash of its own longing, that need only sharpening with every second that dares to pass.

And Joel knows that nothing has ever been easy. Considers the idea that maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for him. And perhaps he doesn’t want easy, doesn’t want simple. No – Joel was always drawn to the flame.

Good.

Dinner finished early. Where are you?

And that flame welcomes him now in kind. The arms of a lover spread open for embrace; the address of her hotel sent directly to his phone.

Joel looks up and makes eye contact with the taxi driver again. Light still on.

Where to?

**the Kaminsky mentioned in this is Ilya Kaminsky, and the quote is from Dancing in Odessa.

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #professor!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction

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envy-of-the-apple · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I love your writing, especially that mad dog Drabble! Could you maybe do something similar for Oikawa? Noncon if you’re comfortable with that too. Thank you so much!

I wrote this awhile ago and then I never got around to publishing it and now I refuse to reread it because i cringe at my old writing but i remember spending a shit ton of time on this so here's my three year old trash fic. enjoy.

(Warnings: dark content, non-con touching, rape, non-con/sexual harassment, verbal degradation, forced orgasms, public-sex, overstimulation)

18+ content

Tutoring Sessions

You knew Spanish.

Not an expert by any means, but you could probably get by if you were stranded in a Spanish-speaking country. You were good at it. Decent.

You just weren’t the teaching type. You could barely learn, let alone, pass your skills on to someone else. Teaching required patience and diligence. That wasn’t you.

But, really, what could you say when the Captain of the volleyball team himself asked you to tutor him? He looked so desperate too, looking down at you with pleading eyes. He asked for an hour-no-just thirty minutes. All you had to do was correct his grammar, jot a few vocabulary words for him, and maybe teach him extra conjugations.

Looking back, you should have declined. You should have made any bullshit excuse you could think of. You should have laughed nervously, apologized- have done anything to get out of his attention.

You shouldn’t have let him coax you into the fourth floor of the library, trapping you with his tall body in an isolated booth.

At least then his hand wouldn’t be currently rubbing your thigh.

His movements were slow, casual, as his fingers made lazy circles up and down your leg. You couldn’t tell if it was intentional if he was touching you on purpose or mindlessly moving his hands. His face betrayed nothing, solely staring forward at the sheets of paper.

“So, I just replace the ‘ar’ with ‘aron’?” He asked, his hand slowly moving higher and higher, “Why can’t I use ‘aban’?”

You bit your lip, “Because it has a definite ending. The-the sentence is ‘they spoke with me yesterday’. The action ended yesterday, that’s-that’s why we use the preterit form.”

Your breath hitched when his hand trailed underneath your skirt, skimming across your panties. Your hand balled into a shaking fist.

You wanted to tell him to move, you wanted to shove his hand off you, but you weren’t confrontational. Instead, you elected to push down the feeling of unease in your chest, trying your best to ignore his ministrations, praying that he’d drop his hand by himself.

He didn’t.

“Right, you use preterit form for a definite ending,” He’s murmuring now, a sultry rumble that sends shivers down your spine, “I keep forgetting that." His laugh twinkles through the air. It's a jarring contrast to his warm hands.

“So ‘Hablaron me ayer’?”

He took that moment to slide past your panties, lightly rocking on your heat. You sucked in a short breath, gritting your teeth. You couldn’t pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing, not when his fingers were sinking deeper and deeper-

A finger tapped on your inner thigh. Play along.

“It’s-it’s ‘me habl-ah-hablaron ayer’. The object comes first-” You flinched when his pointer finger stroked over your hot skin, “And-and then the subject.”

You wished he’d stop making you talk. You wished you could just push him off you. You wished so many things, things Oikawa wouldn’t grant you.

“Okay,” He’s grinning now, a little less put together. His breathing is a little ragged, hitching whenever you uncomfortably shift. Though he’s still resolutely staring at the pages before him, his eyes are shining. Eager, “-makes sense,”

You just realized how empty the library is.

You can feel his calloused fingers crawling under you, searching for something. His middle finger curls a little, softly brushing over your sensitive clit.

You stumble forward. He says something, but you’re not listening. Not when his fingers are hovering over your hot button, delving down to push and prod.

Your reached up to cover your mouth, instantly silencing any noises you knew would come spilling out. He laughs at that, finally finally breaking the act of playing innocent.

Or maybe it wasn’t such a good thing. He’s looking at you now, a knowing smirk on his pretty face.

Repulsion burns through you. It’s quickly replaced by humiliation as a wet squelch erupts from the place he’s touching you, making you lurch.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” He hums in satisfaction, “You already dripping? You must really want this, huh?”

He stares at you, daring you to reply, knowing fully well you won’t. No, you wouldn’t say anything, you wouldn’t do anything either. You would just sit there and take it.

Exactly what he wants.

He’s moving at a rhythm now, rubbing your clit with his thumb as his fingers inch down your folds. Your nails are digging into your trembling palm, but you don’t tell him to stop. You don’t say a word. No, that would be acknowledging what he’s doing. It would make it real-

your thoughts vanish as a slender finger sinks into your pussy. Your sigh is muffled by your clammy hand, digging further into your mouth as he starts fucking you in earnest. He’s going too fast; your mind is spinning. You can’t keep up with the waves of pleasure coming in and out and in and out and in again.

Your hand slips and the moan that escapes your mouth surprise you. It was loud and so dirty, you couldn’t believe it was your voice-it was you who made that noise.

His finger curls, bending in your tight walls and you feel like wailing. Oikawa strokes against a spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars.

You unconsciously lean against him. Oikawa draws you in closer, forcing you to rest against his shoulder as a second finger sinks into your heat. You whine as it pushes through your sopping walls, completely stretching you out.

You think you hear him snarl a quiet fuck but you’re not paying attention. Your head is pounding, matching the brutal thrusts of his fingers. It’s devouring you it’s too much and you want to stop, you want to breathe. Oikawa isn’t keen on helping, not when he’s rubbing fast circles on your clit, stretching his fingers inside you when he feels you’re not making enough noise. He wants something from you.

And you’re forced to give it to him.

There’s a hitch in your breath, the tiniest pause, before you clench around his fingers with a muffled scream. He hushes you, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder as he keeps fucking your pussy until you collapse in his chest.

You’re panting when he finally removes his fingers, wiping the slick haphazardly on your inner thigh. You shift uncomfortably when he pulls away, feeling your hole clench again. The orgasm fades away and all you’re left with is the shock of what you’ve done and utter humiliation.

He lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. His brown eyes were dark, coated in lust. He’s sneering at you.

The kiss surprises you. You weren’t expecting his lips to be soft as he gently melts into yours. It’s so tender, a stark contrast to what he was like before. Maybe it was because you didn’t really put up a fight, your lips falling open when he stroked his thumb on your sensitive skin.

It’s still intense and when he pulls away, you take your first real breath.

“See?” He hums, a hand settling on yours, “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“Oikawa-”

He’s pulling you out of your seat before you can finish your sentence, dragging you away from the abandoned table filled with unused highlighters. Your legs are still weak, you stumble around a little. Oikawa doesn’t mind, towing you like he’s carrying nothing but air.

He slips into an empty storage closet, with you reluctantly trailing behind him. The door closes behind you with a dull thud, and you’re forced to stand with him in the darkness.

When the light comes back on, he’s towering above you. His chest presses against yours, pinning you against the wall. His smile is manic, filled with a hunger that you know won’t be satisfied with just one taste.

No, he wants to devour you whole.

It’s the realization, that he will ruin you, that make your eyes sting. Hot tears creep down your cheeks as your lips waver.

He coos at that, “Don’t cry, baby. You’ll be okay. I took care of you, right? I made you feel so good?” He shuffles closer and you can feel something hard and stiff press against your thigh.

“Now you gotta’ do the same for me. It’s a fair trade, right?”

He’s kissing you again. It’s rough, this time, as he bites on your bottom lip, hard enough to tear skin. Your yelp is muffled as he shoves his tongue into your drooling mouth. You taste the smallest hint of something metallic.

His lips move down, covering your jaw with soft butterfly kisses that made your head spin. When they find your neck, he clamps down on your soft flesh, licking at biting at everything he could taste. Your breath hitches, a sound that’s in between a gasp and a moan. The sensation of his teeth against your neck causes you to lean your head against the wall, reluctantly giving him room. He purrs at that.

“Good girl.”

His hands are fiddling with your buttons. You barely have time to speak before he impatiently rips your shirt, sending the round objects scattering.

A half-hearted apology is mumbled into your skin. His fingers skitter over your bra, you cry out when his cold hands push the material up to feel your tits.

It’s still not enough. His body is feverish, you feel so hot against him, so pliant, so beautiful. You’re crying, whimpering, softly whispering for him to stop but do you even know how desperate you sound? Your voice sounds so needy, it’s hard to be sated from just touching.

Oikawa yanks down your skirt, letting them pool at your ankles. Your thighs are still glistening from his previous ministrations and your panties are wet, still soaked.

He feels pure euphoria watching them slide down your legs, landing on the ground next to the other piles of clothing.

You’re standing before him, barely clothed, shivering. He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek, mumbling a soft ‘be good for me, okay’, before he reaches down to his pants.

He doesn’t pull it down all the way, just enough to reach inside and pull out his throbbing cock. It’s already an angry red, a single drop of precum leaking at the tip.

He gives it a few cursory pumps, before he stills.

“I really wanted to see you cum, bet you looked so pretty. Do you mind doing that again, just for me pretty please?”

He grinned when you didn’t reply. You can’t understand how someone so beautiful could hide so much cruelty.

“No? That’s okay, I’ll just make you. Again.”

In one single movement, he hikes your leg against his hip and thrusts his cock inside you.

You wail as he pushes himself inside, already starting to set a rough pace. It hurts, much bigger than two fingers. Whatever he did before clearly didn’t help make it feel any less painful. You give a choked scream, hot tears clouding your vision.

He’s not quiet either, leaning his forehead against the wall behind you, moaning shamelessly. He’s saying your name like a prayer, repeating it over and over again until it sounds like that’s the only thing he can say.

“You have to relax, baby-fuck you’re so tight.” Oikawa hisses, hiking your leg higher to fuck you deeper.

The pain fades. You wish it stayed, keeping you sober while he pushes you against the wall, greedily palming your tits, sucking on your neck.

But it disappears and a loud moan leaves your lips, too breathy to be made from anything but pleasure.

You instinctively cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds your traitorous body is making.

“Nope, not this time,” He cheerily says, ripping your hand away, “I wanna hear you scream.”

He angles his hips, his cock sinking into that spot and you do scream.

The pleasure that waves up and down your body blinds you. Your body isn’t listening to you, anymore. Your cunt keeps sucking him back in with each thrust. You can feel beads of precum roll down your thigh. Oikawa’s head is resting on your shoulder now. His weight makes your shaky legs buckle, digging your back further into the hard concrete.

He kisses your hand, encouraging you to drape it on his shoulder. It limply falls beside his neck, barely brushing against his hair.

You shift your hips and his cock stutters almost stopping his rhythm before Oikawa’s cooing something dirty into your ear, reaching down to rub your clit until you’re crying out again.

It’s addicting, he realizes, having your cunt flutter around him like this, leaking out his precum. It’s a feeling that makes him piston himself into you over and over again, relishing in the way your pussy tries to suck him in, like you were begging for more.

“O-oikawa,” You finally gasp when you finally regain the ability to speak, “Slow down please please slow-slow down.”

His laugh is breathy, “You want me to slow down, angel? What, are you close again?”

You don’t respond, but it’s enough to make him go faster, ignoring your pleas in search of your gradually rising voice.

He hisses when his knee hits the wall, grimacing.

“-Wanted to do this at a bed, you know,” He grunted, “Somewhere soft. But-but I didn’t wanna-hah-scare you, you’re so anxious it was so-fuck- hard choosing a place-place you’d actually show up in.”

He rubs your clit, feeling your walls grow tighter and tighter. He pulls back to look at you, eyes shut, your lip caught between your teeth, your face filled with lustful pleasure.

��Cum for me, baby. Show me how perfect you are.”

You follow his orders, your orgasm making you cry in ecstasy. It makes you go limp and you almost sink to the floor before Oikawa catches you, keeping you upright as he chases his own end.

He doesn’t stop, not even when you beg him to slow down that it’s too much. No, he just hushes you again, stumbling over a tensed ‘Just a little more’, before he’s going faster and faster until you feel something warm, wet, and sobering fill your cunt.

He’s slows down then, his eyes shut in bliss as he rocks his hips forward, milking as much as he could. When he finally pulls out, he does it with a hiss, making you flinch as his skin hits your sensitive clit.

He doesn’t catch you this time, letting you drop to the floor. You tumble to the ground, your hands barely catching your fall. The tile is so cool against your sensitive skin, it almost makes you forget the milky liquid spread on your legs, the finger-print shaped bruises on your thigh.

You don’t think you have anymore tears left, but they still fall, running down your cheeks.

He’s instantly over you, brushing a hand down your face.

“Oh, don’t cry, baby, you did such a good job,” Oikawa cooed, wiping your tears away.

He’s not comforting you. His smile is too satisfied to make you think he had any semblance of pity. You briefly wonder what he’s seeing. You, exhaustedly crumpled against the wall, your legs curled, cum seeping out, your neck and chest littered with teeth marks. No wonder he looks so pleased.

He pets your hair, shifting it back in place and it’s so domestic-so loving that it makes you sick.

Oikawa grins, showing teeth. “How about next time we study at my place.”

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa tooru #dark oikawa tooru #dark content #oikawa isn't a good person #x reader #tw:noncon #reader inserts #afab reader

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luffyvace · 4 months ago

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HIIII AGAHOASNWGWK IM SO GLAD UR STILL WRITING TDLOSK GSGSNS (I have two requests in my mind so I hope you don't mind a same anon request at the same time:'))

may I request saiki w younger sister ?

OFCCC I STILL DO I LOVE SAIKI K‼️you can request any anime at any time even if I haven’t wrote for it in a while!! <33

I don’t mind at all! As long as they’re open request away!! :3

yesss you may!

As long as your nothing like Kuusuke- Saiki would be the best big brother! 💗💗

💝

Uhh just to clear things up I’m gonna write this for reader who has and doesn’t have powers so these’ll be spilt in two! Just because you didn’t specify on this 😅

edit: a continuation!! Saiki gf and sister meet!!

Sis with no powers !!

Kusuo would first of all worry about you a lot more if you don’t have powers because you can’t defend yourself, really

plus everyone without powers seems to be somewhat oblivious in this show 😭😭😭

He tries not to come off as an overprotective brother 😔

(Even though he is 😭💗)

he definitely uses his powers to protect you, he’s gotta admit, if there’s anything his powers are good for, at least he can make sure you don’t get hurt

especially since he seems to be some sort of chaos attractor or something

As my little ‘before hand’ note says, as long as your nothing like your eldest brother, Kuusuke, you and Kusuo will get along just fine!!

it’s unlikely he finds you annoying unless your personality is like your mom, your dad or Kuusuke. Orrrr unless you try to annoy him on purpose….then his mom is always scolding him saying he should protect his little sister! Not scare the crap out of her with giant spiders from Australia!! 🤦‍♀️😒

if you get along with Kuusuke he won’t mind but the two of them might argue over it. It’s usually competition over who’s the better brother. Kusuo doesn’t normally care for such petty things, but he just wants to win because if Kuusuke wins he’ll never let him live it down 🙄

you can call him Kuu-nii San if you want (that felt so weird to type but I don’t know how else to put it- bear with me, I mean in the same way his mom calls him Kuu-chan, okay? Not in a cringe way- 😭) but he doesn’t really like much affection. Your mom usually tries to force you two to go out and spend time together since your her last two babies in the house and one day it’ll be just you 🤧

btw!! it was never specified in the request how old sis reader is, but I think I’m doing a okay job at making it…age neutral..? 😭 you get my point…..

if your sad he’ll probably leave it to one of your friends and mom/dad to cheer you up, but he’s not heartless ofc! if you come to him for comfort he probably won’t know what to say or do. At this time he begrudgingly goes with any affection like you hugging him because he’s not gonna hug you back- but he doesn’t stop you to show he’s there for you.

he might use apport (swapping objects of equal value) to buy you something you like/have wanted for a while, to try and cheer you up 💞

otherwise, he’s there for you physically more than anything.

He lets you rant too, and he’s a good listener (I mean he doesn’t talk much-).

Trust me, anyone who made you feel this way will be dealt with. Even though you know about his powers, he’s not gonna tell you he handled the situation. But you know him well enough to know when whoever was messing with you got you your favorite kind of (fav snack), it was your brother <3

With no powers Kuusuke will either like you a lot less than Kusuo (😃) or a lot more! But it depends. If you’re really intelligent like your eldest brother, he’ll probably like you and will want to compete against you- like him and Kusuo (he still wants you to win, like Kusuo too-). If your not so intelligent he will either make you is mad scientist apprentice or won’t be as interested as you as he is in Kusuo..😭 though I think he’d take you under his wing because your related. it’s not like you don’t know each other! Plus, Kuusuke has a good relationship with his parents in the show, so why wouldn’t he with you?

Back to Kusuo! He will likely 100% want to keep you away from his friends. Not cuz he doesn’t wanna share or smth but because HE doesn’t even wanna be near them most the time…he doesn’t want them to go bombarding you! More importantly! If YOU like them then your mom will for SURE force him to let them in more often!! (Perks for you for being mamma’s only girl 😚)

much to his inconvenience, you probably meet them anyway. That’s just how his life is 🤷‍♀️

you can introduce HIM to YOUR friends if you wanna but he might not be much more interested in them than he is in his own 😄

unless they’re normal like Satou!! Then he’d wanna make you and YOUR friend group HIS new friend group!!

orrrr stalk you and your group as he’s too nervous to come up and talk to such normal people…..(I mean that’s what he did with Satou, why would that change 🤓🗿)

another topic!! If you ask to spend time with your brother he won’t deny as long as he’s not too busy/doesn’t mind not being alone and there isn’t a risk of running into his friends wherever you’re going 😅

Your bond will be 2x stronger if you both like coffee jelly, just saying 👌

he’d be down to go pretty much anywhere, not too many people, preferably. Shopping, small cafes and occasionally some activities/festivities are decent‼️

he enjoys spending time with you more than you know and you’ve gotta be one of the least annoying people he knows! 💗

Sister with powers !!

Now this is probably gonna be a lot more chaotic and stressful OR peaceful. Depends on your take of it.

If you’re chaotic with your powers your sibling rivalry will be to the max. Maybe worse than Kuusuke!—Since you live in the same house and all. It’ll be constant revenge wars, using your abilities to get back at the other. If you take this route you will know no peace so I hope you chose this on purpose 😭😭

your mom is always scolding both of you. But as soon as she leaves……..your hair is now red and you’ve turned his clothes into clown clothes. You ripped up the homework he was doing on the couch and he trashed all your favorite snacks- oh hey mom……and now she’s gone again and to get revenge you’ve made a patch of Kusuo’s hair fall out 😼

He won’t really like you showing off your powers but he also kinda does. He doesn’t like it because then people might suspect him of having powers too! It also might draw a lot of attention and if you take that attention back to your house….or if you go to the same school as him! Either way, it’ll be a burden on him.

Buuut he also kinda likes it cuz then the attention’s not necessarily on him! :)

I will say tho- attempting to expose his powers is a dangerous game..…⚠️ (LOL)

you know how much he wants to keep it under wraps so if you encourage him to reveal it he’s only gonna get annoyed

like I said trying to do the job yourself is even worse! He’ll make sure to ruin all of your plains ofc! Then he’ll get a little taste of revenge 😈

If you blackmail him with his powers—for example: he’s threatening to tell your mom you snuck out but you say you’re gonna rat out his powers to his friends, it’ll work!……for now.

and those are some reaaaaal key words right there.

He has plenty of dirt on you (and vice versa) so he goes off and starts a war by spilling some secrets of yours. You can try and tell his friends about his powers if you want but it won’t be easy when he gets in the way, already having a plan and all. I mean, he is the older brother, and the older sibling is always smarter…..(unless your like Kusuo and Kuusuke..😆)

anywho, you won’t be able to use his powers against him for long since, eventually he’ll have the upper hand and will make you serve him (out of your moms view 😂) for a week

Overall if your chaotic with your powers he really just finds you annoying (your the original nuisance number 1) and you’ll always be arguing

Now for!!!…..Super awesome little sister who peacefully helps him avoid trouble!! <33

++respect

you often distract/redirect his friends always from him/a location he’s trying to go to, to help him

and he pays you kindly (with any favor, for the record)

finds you way less annoying for one, obviously, and mama Saiki is so happy 🤗💗

You two definitely spends more time together (well actually, if your chaotic it’s probably an equal amount of time, but with peaceful sister it’s actually enjoying the time spent instead of trying to ruin each other’s lives 😊💗)

Say your powers aren’t as much as his/you only have one (probably harmless) power. He’d definitely help you with his powers whenever he can and honestly if he could—he would give them to you! Only if you don’t think they’re just as much as an inconvenience as he does, of course.

he would be grateful for any favor you could do with your power and, once again, return the favor in kind. He’d randomly gift you stuff you like (fav movie tickets, money for shopping, hobby supplies, games you’ve always wanted, etc!)

ofc you don’t have to read these hcs as only having one harmless power, it still applies really! Just giving some ideas to those who can’t think of anything <3 😅

if you side with Kuusuke using your powers, your likeability in his meter will go down 😂

fr tho siding with Kuusuke would be a major mistake if your trying to get close to Kusuo, for anyone! 😀 Because as I said, your mom pampers you quite a bit since your her only daughter AND the youngest! So if you say you wanna see Kuusuke more often it’s gonna happen! Much to his demise…..

Using your powers to make Kusuo loose to Kuusuke in competition would only make matters worse. And in this case, your either switching sides and becoming chaotic or always were 😂😂🤗

You and Kuusuke’s bond would be closer though! He would once again, as previously stated, make you his little apprentice. Especially if you’re highly intelligent like him! Your bond would be really cute!……To anyone except Kusuo..🙂

It truly depends, fully on you, if your gonna make your older brother your best friend or your

mortal enemy 😊

Byeee! 🤪

—Brook!

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bluejeanstrash · 2 years ago

Text

this to me is peak boyfriend seungcheol. it’s escaping to the mountains for the weekend to spend some quiet quality time together.

it’s sitting by the water where seungcheol has been trying to fish for an hour, occasionally getting excited that he’s caught something only for it to swim away. you’re sitting on one of those foldable camping chairs writing in your journal. you take a moment to look up at him and god, he’s beautiful.

his hair is all fluffy and tousled by the wind, clothes fluttering with every gust, and there’s the soft morning sun which seems to be glowing just on him. he feels you looking at him as he turns around and smiles. it's that smile that makes you feel all warm and mushy - the one where his eyes crinkle slightly and he looks especially kind.

you wave at him and he waves back, and just as he’s about to turn back around he notices something ‘are you cold?’ he asks seeing how you’re sitting. you tell him you’re fine but he knows you’re not. you've been freezing for the past 20 minutes, too lazy to get up and do something about it.

immediately, seungcheol drops his fishing rod and does a half-jog towards the car to get you a blanket. ‘i’m fine! seriously!’ you try to stop him but he waves off your protests and hurries to the car, returning with a thick cozy blanket and some hot packs. he warms them up, giving you some before wrapping the blanket tight around you, making sure you’re all bundled up and toasty. after ensuring no cold wind can get through, he pulls your beanie down to cover your ears properly.

and then he takes a step back to admire how cuddly you look.

‘wait, i have to take a picture of this’ he pulls out his phone as you pose for him - smiling wide, your fingers in a peace sign. ‘so cuteeee’ he squeals, smiling at his screen fondly. ‘wow, my girlfriend is seriously cute’ you see him change his wallpaper.

you ask if he’s having better luck with fishing and he pouts, complaining to you about all the hurdles he’s facing - how the fish are being mean to him, how they're just eating the bait and swimming away, and how he caught one so easily last time. ‘seriously, it was this huge’ he shows you with his hands.

you pat the chair beside you ‘why don’t you take a break and try again later?’

‘should i?’ he takes a seat, holding his knees and groaning like an old man as he sits. it was a habit of his that you had really grown to love. ‘what are you writing?’ he points at your journal.

‘um, nothing in particular. just about life in general - this trip, stuff like that’ he nods attentively and a second later asks ‘am i in it?’ it’s endearing how hopeful he sounds.

‘mmmm, that’s a secret’ you whisper playfully, making him laugh.

‘come on, tell meee’ he pokes you over the blanket.

‘i can’t just tell you. you have to unlock the secret’ you tease.

some whiny noises later he asks ‘okay, how do i unlock it?’

‘with a kiss’ you pucker your lips at him as a faint pink flush spreads across his cheeks.

‘ay! you just want to kiss me!’

despite his complaints, he leans forward giving you a sweet kiss and as you pull away he pouts ‘one more’ before going in for another peck.

‘so?’

‘yeah, you’re in it’ you confess.

‘really?’ he smiles, his feet tapping the ground happily. you chuckle at his cuteness before looking back to the view in front of you.

‘it's really so beautiful here' you say as he hums in agreement.

‘but-’ he turns to you dramatically ‘-not as beautiful as you’ you both look at each for a second, cringing, before you burst out laughing. the sounds of laughter melt into a comfortable silence as he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers in yours. you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

it’s just the whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves, sounds of slow-moving water, and birds chirping. and you feel so safe and happy that it’s almost overwhelming. seungcheol lets out a soft sigh as his shoulders drop, his body relaxing under you.

‘i’m so happy right now’ he says quietly - not to you or to anyone in particular, but just into existence.

you hold his hand tighter as he squeezes yours, bending to kiss the top of your head. as you both sit there in silence, you shut your eyes, trying to live in this moment forever.

#scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagine #scoups x reader #seungcheol blurb #seungcheol drabble #scoups imagine #scoups drabble #scoups blurb

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gingerjunhan · 10 months ago

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boyfriend headcannons - lee jooyeon

☆彡 the long awaited end of this sweet little series is finally here!! I hope you all enjoyed! :) 🩷

word count: 633 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: swearing, all caps, not proofread, lmk if something is missing!

← previous member

it’s time for our sillies little boyfie

omg okay where do I begin

he holds your hand all the time

out in public, in bed while cuddling, under the dinner table like you’re in middle school-

he wants you close at all times

he loves you so so so sooooo much

I am the queen of the Jooyeon clingy boyfriend agenda

he LOVES PDA

okay- in reality he love what you’re comfortable with- but still

he loves being able to show you off!

you’re his! he’s dating you! he can’t believe it!!!

once he gets comfortable the pet names are… oh boy

the type of cringe you would expect from Gunil tbh

“baby”

“bubs”

“SWEET PEA” 🥹

“pookie”

“pumpkin” on rare occasions

he likes to have fun with them

you would probably make most of your plans bc have you seen the way this man uses bubble?

he will not answer your damn phone calls!

(but he means well I swear)

the selfies you get from this man are either killer or hilarious

it’s like,, a Seungmin level fit check or a .5 image where it looks like he’s looking both directions at once 💀

but it’s okay bc you love him for it obvi 🫶🏻

speaking of loving him, Jooyeon strikes me as another member of xh that your younger siblings or cousins would love

NAHH YOU KNOW WHO WOULD LOVE HIM??

YOUR GRANDMA!!!!

children find him funny and old people find him charming and endearing

they would totally say you’re dating a prince lol

please play with his hair

I feel like he would love it

he lowkey loves it when you baby him?

like, eat the vegetables off of his plate and tell him how cute he is and he’ll eat that shit up

he is constantly singing

he makes songs up about what he does during the day

he’ll randomly hit you with the, “earlier today I was 🎶washing the dishes🎶 and I almost broke a plate.”

I feel like one of his go-to gifts would be plushies?

it’s your birthday? plushie

valentine’s day? here’s a little guy

and he forces you to name them all

sometimes he comes up with the names before he even gives them to you

“Here you go!” *hands you a plushie* “This is Bart.”

he is so amazed by you all the time

he truly idolizes you and the way you carry yourself and treat people

you aren’t afraid to be a little weird or different and he would love it!!

he would write songs for you :(

he would write songs about you :,(

I think it would be sooooo easy to fluster him

“You look very pretty today Jooyeon.” he’s red as can be

but don’t worry because he can dish it out just as well as he can take it

hot take: I bet Jooyeon secretly has rizz

it doesn’t happen often, but every now and then he hits you with a really good one-liner that honestly leaves you at a loss for words

he loves cuddle sessions :( my sweet, clingy boy

very excitable!

you could suggest watching paint dry as a date idea and he would be vibrating with excitement

loves loves loooves when you wear his clothes ESPECIALLY out in public!

it’s like your little way of showing people you’re taken

he would melt of you ever referred to him as, “my boyfriend” to someone in public like-

‼️ that’s him ‼️

he’s a ball of sunshine when he’s around you, but he also knows when to dial it back and be more serious as well

the duality to this man comes into play with more than just his stage presence!

overall, Jooyeon never stops smiling when he’s with you because he constantly has something to be thankful for 🩷

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #jooyeon x reader

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cyberels · 1 year ago

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IT WILL COME BACK

PLEASE GOD LISTEN TO IT WILL COME BACK BY HOZIER IT MAKES THE FIC BETTER GOD BLESS

(my requests are on btw plsss send fic ideas pleaseee)

PART TWO HERE CUZ MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD IT my bad

summary: ellie hates one night stands, while you couldn’t care less. she barely manages to catch your name before you’re pulled away from her. she makes it her goal to find you again.

warnings: NSFW, MDNI!!!, drinking, language

(i am a whore for subby!ellie so that’s all i wrote in this fic, it’s all e!receiving)

wc: 2.4k

a/n: okay i so lied about the other fic it’s not done yet so take this one instead lol it’s my first time writing smut in years so… please be patient if it’s not good i will improve eventually 🙏 (i didn’t proofread this, sorry if it sucks LOL)

my masterlist

divider credit to benkeibear :)

The music's overwhelming, and you're certain your hearing's screwed, if it wasn’t already. The lights flash, illuminating the room and all the people in it. You'd been told this was just a small get together, so why are there so many people here? who goes all out for a fucking get together?

you stick to the corner of the room, sipping your drink occasionally while you pretend to scroll through your phone to look casual. originally, your plan was to stay home and study for finals, but you agreed to go because your friend had promised she'd be with you the whole time.

“come onnnnn, don’t be lame. just fuck someone and have a good time, you’ve been studying for like yearsssss.” your friend pleaded. somehow she was already drunk.

“i’m not really in the mood for a hookup—“

“liar, your ass was swiping through tinder not even 30 minutes ago.” she grins at you, “look, let’s just go to the party, yeah? have a good time and shit, get fucked up… maybe get fucked, you feel me?”

“you’re stupid and i hate you.”

“you love me.”

…unfortunately for you, your friend's plan to stick with you only lasted about 15 minutes before she saw her old fling and disappeared up the stairs with them, so you're on your own now. great.

screw it. might as well have some fun, too. you push yourself off the wall, discarding your empty cup on some random shelf, and immediately going to grab another drink to replace it. you look around, maybe a hookup wouldn’t be so bad?

you never believed in divine timing, but you lock eyes with a girl that’s sitting on the couch across from you right when you decide to find someone to fuck. you can’t bring yourself to look away; you’re too dumbfounded that there’s a girl here that’s literally the human embodiment of your type.

the girl smiles back at you, also not breaking eye contact. she beckoned for you to sit down on the couch next to her.

ellie was never the type for one night stands, if she was gonna fuck someone, she’d want them back for more later. but there was just something about the way your outfit hugged your body that made her not care at the moment.

ellies previous situationship had gotten a girlfriend without warning, so needless to say she was in the market for someone else to take her spot. when she saw you and the way you were looking at her like she was the only girl at this stupid party, she figured you were just as desperate for sex as she was right now.

you carry your shot of don julio back as you flop onto the seat across from the girl. you quickly take the shot, being unable to stop the cringe on your face as the alcohol burns your throat. real smooth, she’s definitely gonna wanna fuck you now—

“can’t handle your tequila?” she teased, leaning closer to you so she was able to be heard over the music.

“shut up, i can’t help that it tastes like fucking nail polish remover.”

ellie laughs at your response, and you swear you’ve never heard something so fucking cute before in your life. you try to play it cool, but the way she’s looking at you is making you practically drool. you tense as you unintentionally conjure up a mental image of her hands up your shirt, her lips on your skin, her fingers in your—

“at least it gets the job done.”

you blink a few times, her voice ripping you from your fantasy, “yeah, it does. ‘specially don julio, that shits like a hundred bucks a bottle.”

“and it’s worth every fucking penny, dude.”

you hadn’t expected to be fantasizing about some random girl fucking you, but… here you were. maybe it’s the tequila, or the few drinks you had beforehand, but you decided you absolutely needed this girl despite only speaking two goddamn sentences to her.

your eyes fall to the hallway, moving towards an empty bedroom door, and then back to the girl. you never were a fan of small talk, anyways.

ellie’s breath catches when she follows your gaze to the bedroom. she had been hoping for a distraction from the party, and she was just as eager for you as you were for her.

“wanna go talk in there?” you smiled, nodding towards the room. “it’s quieter.”

the girl grins back, not bothering to answer, just getting up and grabbing your hand, leading you into the bedroom.

usually you’d try to learn her name first, or at least learn more about her, but not tonight, not with her. you needed her as quickly as possible.

you barely let her lock the door before you push her roughly onto the bed, a mischievous smile spreading across your face as you move your body to straddle hers. “you sure you wanna do this?”

“yeah, i’m sure.”

“perfect. gonna be good and let me take control?”

ellie's eyes widened. she’s not normally the submissive type, but… tonight was a different game, and you were hot, so she simply nodded in response as you moved to press kisses into her neck.

you shake your head, pulling away from her for a moment, “nuh uh, not a good enough answer. use your words.”

“mmh— i’ll be good, i’ll let you take care of me.” ellie chokes out, heat pooling between her legs already, and all she wants is to grab your hand and shove it down her pants.

“perfect, good girl.” you coo, rolling your hips and dragging your crotch over hers, your jeans colliding with her sweatpants. your movements are slow and deliberate, you know exactly what you’re doing.

you brush your lips over hers, but you don’t kiss her, instead you move to the side of her face, leaving a trail of kisses across her jawline.

ellie whimpers, “teasin’ me.”

you laugh in response, “maybe i am, pretty girl. you’re gonna have to prove you deserve it before i give you more.”

the noises she made in response go directly to your clit, and if you weren’t having so much fun teasing the girl, you’d be touching yourself right about now.

the other girl grabbed the hem of your shirt, forcing your lips against hers. you moan into the kiss, tangling your hands in her hair and pulling slightly.

ellies so enamored that she doesn’t even realize your knee slipped between her thighs, and she instinctively pulls away as you press your knee further into her, “fuck, ah— s’good, baby.”

you grin, moving your knee up and down slowly, “you like that?”

“yeah, i fucking— shit, baby, fuck—“

you barely give ellie the opportunity to speak before you replace your knee with your hand.

you trail your kisses down to the hem of her pants, smiling up at her, “this alright?”

“fuck yeah it is.”

you giggle, continuing to move your hand slowly against the other girls clothed slit as you place more kisses onto her thigh.

after a moment, you pull back and tug on her pants, “need these off of you.”

you know you sound desperate, but you don’t care.

ellies cunt aches at the absence of your touch, so she quickly obliges, leaving just her boxers on, “take yours off too, babe, please. wanna see you.”

you want to deny her and play your game a little longer, but there's something about the way she’s looking at you, eyes watery and half-lidded, that makes it impossible to say no, “only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

soon enough, both of you were left in just your underwear and bra, and you thank god you wore a cute set tonight. the only regret you have is not bringing your strap, because god do you want to get this girl pregnant.

“so fucking hot.” you say, moving back so you could see her whole body. you move your hand to trace along her tattoo, and you smile at her, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

ellie whimpers again, and she moves your hand back to her throbbing clit, “more.”

“m’not done admiring you.” you say, “you can wait a little while longer.”

you lean closer to her again, pushing her bra back slightly and sucking on the skin, leaving small red marks across her chest.

at this point, ellie is certain she cannot wait any longer, her legs squeezing together to try and get some friction. “mmh, can’t wait baby, need you now. please— fuck, oh my god— please, baby.”

you push her legs back open, giggling, “you’re so cute when you’re needy. stop moving, m’gonna take care of you eventually.”

your move so your head is in between the other girls thighs, and you place gentle kisses on the girls legs, leaving more red marks every now and again.

“fuck, please touch me, you’re killing me— you can’t do this to me. fuck.”

you grin, you hand hovering over the girls crotch now, just barely touching her, “you’re such a little slut for me, aren’t you? you don’t even know my name and you’re still begging me for more.”

ellie presses your hand down further into herself, she’s getting tired of waiting, “god, babe— please, i need it. please baby, i’m bein’ good, please.”

you bite your lip to stifle a moan, “so fucking hot when you beg.”

your hand moves to her clit, and you rub small circles into her. you’re moving painfully slow, but you can’t let her win just yet, you like hearing her whimper. “so wet already, pretty girl. you’re turning into my bitch, huh?”

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t wet too, and the sounds of ellies moans aren’t helping your case, but ellie doesn’t need to know that right now.

ellie goes to say something in response, but you don’t give her the chance, you speed up your movements, and she whines pathetically into the pillow she has pressed up against her face.

“not— not fair.” she whimpers, “fuck, faster— m’ gonna—“

“not yet.” you say, stopping what you were doing and tugging off her boxers. you’re certain you know the answer, but you ask again, “this alright?”

“mhm.” ellie replies, biting her lip, she can’t bring herself to say anything more. she wants this so bad.

you discard her boxers on the floor, and then bring your head in between her thighs again, “want you to cum in my mouth.”

ellie nods eagerly, and once again moves to press your face into her cunt. she forgets she’s in public for a second, unable to hold back her moans. she’s lucky the music's loud, because god she felt like she was going crazy with how good it felt.

you lick a stripe into her already sopping wet slit, and after a minute, you get to work. the second you stop teasing her, it only takes a few seconds for her to cum all over your face.

the noises she makes as she finishes make it hard for you to focus on anything else, your own clit begging for her touch, but before you do anything else, there’s a bang on the door.

you can’t hear exactly what the person outside is saying, but you’re able to hear one word, cops.

well, fuck, at least the other girl got to finish. you’d definitely be taking care of yourself once you got home.

“shit, i’m sorry.“ the girl starts, grabbing your clothes and throwing them towards you before putting hers on, “usually i wouldn’t just—“

“it’s fine.” you insist, “i’m just glad i got to make you feel good.”

ellie could die, right there on the spot. you look so fucking hot, and right now she was yearning to return the favor and make you feel good, too. “what’s your name?”

you smile and tell her, and then start to ask for hers, but you’re interrupted by the banging starting again. you grab her hand once you both are clothed, and run out of the house.

it didn’t take long before your friend spotted you, pulling you away from the girl and into the uber she called.

“dude, who the fuck would call the cops? it wasn’t that loud of a party— uh, dude, your shirts on backwards.”

“my wh—“ you look down, and sure enough, it is on backwards. that's…. embarrassing. “oh, well, um—“

“—no way! you— with who?! i thought you said you weren’t in the mood for that? you’re such a liar!”

“i don’t know her name.” you admit, brushing your hands through your hair, “wish i did. the cops got called before i could… y’know.”

you didn’t want to say anything further, deciding to spare the poor uber driver of knowing the details of your sex life.

“maybe you’ll find her again, it’s not that big of a town.”

“maybe. but it’s no big deal if i don’t. i don’t normally keep track of my hookups.”

“yeah, but usually you get to finish, too.” she counters.

“it’s whatever, i don’t mind.” you shrugged, and it was the truth. you had toys at home that would satisfy you enough, you’d just use them.

and that’s exactly what you did when you got home.

you turned on the shower and cleaned yourself up when you were done. usually your hookups don’t stick with you like this, but this girl was just so damn hot, and the way she begged— god. you figure you should probably think of something else, because you’re gonna make a mess of yourself again if you keep going like this.

when you hopped into bed, you still couldn’t get the image of her out of your head. this… wasn’t normal for you.

you even fucking dreamt of her that night, and you cursed at yourself once you woke up, because now you were aching for her touch once more.

stupid, you think, i’m so stupid. can’t get attached, don’t even know her name.

luckily enough for you, you don’t have to worry about that much longer. when you open your phone, there’s a dm waiting for you.

…how the fuck?

#max writes ☆#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #the last of us #wlw smut #wlw #tlou #Spotify

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mlmxreader · 1 year ago

Text

Doubt | Eddie Brock/Venom x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Hi hon 👋🏼 (does that sound cringe?? Like I said, I'm trying to mix up these greetings 😂). I hope this ask finds you well!

May I please ask for a work using the following prompts for 🥹 my favorite loser Eddie Brock X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader:

"I came as soon as I heard the news"+"For what it's worth, I'm proud of you"

Maybe Eddie is going deep dive within his own thoughts (self doubt, etc.) and just can't seem to centre himself. Feels like he's majorly messed something up and reader is there to comfort and reassure him.

(As always, this is just spit balling, all creative liberties to you of course!!)

Thank you 🖤!

🐍anon

summary: Eddie is doing, well, shit and he needs a little bit of TLC - but luckily, Venom knows just the person.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Eddie stared at his laptop, the time ticking by so slowly; he felt like everything that he had written was just complete shit. Like he was as bad at being a journalist as he was a superhero.

He felt like he wasn’t good enough, that the skills and time and energy he had put into everything was for nothing; it was all shit, it was all terrible. Venom was right, he was a loser and he would always be a loser; he swallowed thickly as he stared at his keyboard, scratching at the back of his neck before he sighed and frowned.

He couldn’t think of a damn thing, practically torturing himself as he got up to go get a cigarette and something to drink; he didn’t even see it when Venom reached for his phone and sent a text to their significant other. Venom knew Eddie the same way you did, and just as you would have known that Eddie needed help and a distraction, so did Venom.

Eddie didn’t even know, until the front door opened.

“Eddie. We have a guest.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes. “But everyone knows I’m working.”

He frowned, making his way to the door, but he stopped in his tracks, and sighed heavily with relief when he saw you there; you looked concerned, but he shook his head.

“Baby, I’m sorry, but I’m working.”

You sat him down on the sofa with a shake of your head, and already his heart was pounding and he didn’t know what he was doing in the slightest as he chewed at the inside of his lip and started to worry. “Eddie, I came as soon as I heard the news - Venom texted me, and asked me to come over. He said you were struggling, doubting yourself.”

Eddie shrugged as he shook his head again, hands shaking as he gently pushed you away and tried his best to smile. “I’m, I’m fine - it’s just that everything I write is the same old churned out shit, and it’s never gonna be good enough. It’s not. I’m not fucking good enough, baby, and that’s… that’s okay! I just won’t ever get a decent job, I won’t ever fucking be able to afford more than this shit flat and-”

“Breathe,” you told him gently, patting his thigh gently as you raised your brows. “C’mon, Eddie, focus on me.”

He nodded shakily, swallowing thickly as he dared to get a little closer.

“Do as they say,” Venom told him. “You need it.”

“Oh fuck off, you overgrown worm,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. He brought his gaze to you and smiled weakly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you told him gently. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

He ran a hand through his hair, shrugging as he looked at you with despair in his eyes. “Just feel like everything I do is fucking shit right now. My boss wants this article in by eight o’clock this morning, but… look at the time, baby, I’m not gonna get it done with how it’s turning out now.”

You gave him a moment to add anything further, and when he didn’t, you cleared your throat, and sat on his lap, pinning him to the sofa, your hands digging into the cushions either side of his head as he grabbed at your hips. “Now, you listen to me, Brock, and you listen fucking good - you are one of, if not the, most talented journalist I know. I’ve read shit from award winners that wasn’t even half as good as yours. So fucking listen when I tell you that you’re great. You’re great, Eddie.”

He nodded, a little too distracted at having you on his lap but it was doing the trick, and he could feel himself slowly start to let go of his worries and about whether or not he might have fucked up his job altogether. He grabbed your hips a little tighter, blunt fingernails digging into your skin through the thin fabric you were wearing.

“Thank you…”

“Keep listening,” you demanded, commanding most of his attention. “You are a great boyfriend, to me and to Venom. You are talented, you have great skills and any publication should be grateful to have you. You’re a hero, Eddie, to so many. You’re doing your best, and y’know what?”

“What?”

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you,” you whispered in his ear. “I am really, really fucking proud of you, Eddie.”

Eddie had to admit, and he couldn’t have denied it anyway, but he was starting to feel a lot better about the whole situation, he needed the comfort and the reassurance, if he was honest. It worked wonders to know that his favourite human in the world was there for him, that you were proud of him and that you recognised his skills and his talents; not many people did, in fact, he couldn’t remember the last person who did.

But you did, and to him, that meant everything. To know that one of his significant others was standing behind him and cheering him on; to know that you were proud of him, not ashamed, not embarrassed.

You were proud.

It made his heart skip a beat as he moved his hands down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pulling you up so that you had to look down to meet his gaze.

“Come to bed with me,” you told him. “Let’s get some rest, yeah?”

Eddie nodded eagerly, using Venom’s strength to pick you up and take you to the bedroom; he let you fall onto the bed before he crashed down next to you, his head hitting the pillow as he hummed and yawned.

You would have reached over and kissed him like you usually did, but when you took a look back at him, you couldn’t help but to smile; he was sound asleep already.

“Thank you,” Venom grumbled, crawling out of his arm and staying still beside you. “He needed that.”

“I know he did,” you said softly, kissing Venom’s forehead gently. “Thank you for letting me know, V.”

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daemour · 1 year ago

Text

banner by @nixiecreates

Pairing: Hongjoong x f!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

WC: 1009

Summary: You're oblivious to Hongjoong's advances. So he decides to tell you in the most obvious way he can

This took....way too long to write lol. it was supposed to come out like a week ago but I never finished it. atp tho, i just wanna get a fic out for u guys lol so no beta we die like men

Hongjoong doesn’t know exactly when he started falling in love with you. And to be honest, he doesn’t want to pinpoint the moment either. That’s just not his style at all. He’s happy loving you without any of the theatrics. You haven’t caught onto his feelings, and Hongjoong is totally okay with that. He wants to see where this will lead naturally, so he does nothing but flirt…rather badly. And yet, you are still oh-so blind. Some days, he even questions if you do it on purpose.

Okay, maybe it bothers Hongjoong just a little bit. How much more obvious does he have to be? He wrote you a goddamn song!

“Seonghwa, I’m going to go mad,” Hongjoong complains to his best friend. “How is (Y/N) so dense?”

Unbothered, Seonghwa continues rearranging his mug cupboard. “Maybe you should talk to her,” he suggests, but Hongjoong physically cringes at the thought.

“Talk to her?” he repeats and Seonghwa sighs, finally turning around to face Hongjoong with a look of exasperation apparent.

“You said it yourself, Joong. (Y/N)’s totally oblivious to your…honestly quite embarrassingadvances. Either you tell her how you feel, or you don’t and just continue wallowing.”

Hongjoong huffs. “Stop being logical,” he grumbles but Seonghwa just smiles and returns to his task.

To be honest, Hongjoong might just follow Seonghwa’s advice. He’s a patient man…but not that patient. He values your friendship but knows that if he leaves it be he’s going to grow to resent himself and even you.

“Seonghwa.”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Hongjoong whines. “I just need your help with one thing!”

One of his mugs slams down on the counter. “Why am I friends with you? Fine, what do you want from me?”

Hongjoong beams. “I owe you! Okay, so I need you to help me convince this old lady to let me on her roof.”

Seonghwa is unimpressed. “Can I go back on my word?”

When Hongjoong called you to meet him on your apartment rooftop, you had many questions. One of them was how he even got access to the roof, but that was not too much of a worry. He always knew how to charm people and your landlady was no exception.

“Joong, you better have a good explanation,” you start to playfully scold him but stop dead in your tracks at the sight before you. Flowers, far too many of them decorated…everything. It looked like a flower shop and you were stunned at the sight of it. In the centre of it all stood your very best friend.

“Surprise?” His words come out carefully and you can’t help but smile at his obvious nervousness.

“What is all this?” You can’t keep the wonder out of your voice.

Hongjoong smiles gently. “So…you’re kind of an idiot,” he proclaims, the (not so) baseless accusation making your mouth drop open.

“What?” you question, voice hardening.

Hongjoong backtracks, as he should. “Wait– that didn’t come out properly. I mean…you’re kinda blind?”

You stare at him. “For someone supposedly really good with words, you’re sure doing a shit job, Kim Hongjoong.” The corners of his lips pull down into a slight pout and you can’t hide your smile anymore. As much fun as it is to tease him, you know he didn’t mean it in that way. “What really is it, Joongie?”

Hongjoong is nervous, uncharacteristically so. You’ve seen him like this before, when he was best man at Wooyoung’s wedding and when he was working on important projects with a looming deadline, but never to this extent. “(Y/N), I have an important question.”

You frown, taking a few steps closer. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath before looking at you with such softness in his eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

His words hit you like a truck. “You’re in love with me?” you can’t help but repeat his words although he doesn’t mind.

“Yes.” Hongjoong smiles crookedly, his eyes focused on you. “It was a slow process, I will admit. It took me a long time to untangle whether I was just…extra fond of you or if I was in love. In the end, are those two that different?”

You can’t help the smile making its way onto your face. “I suppose not.”

“And when I finally figured it out, I tried to tell you. Honestly, half the stuff I did was so damn embarrassing. But you just never noticed.”

You blink. “That was you trying to flirt?”

Hongjoong blinks, once, twice. “What?”

“What?” You stare back.

“You didn’t know I was flirting?” Hongjoong’s voice rises in pitch. “It was so obvious! I wrote you a song!”

He’s panicking and now so are you. “Which song? Every time you showed me a song all you did was ask my opinion! How was I supposed to know they were for me?”

“It was labelled your name, (Y/N)!” Hongjoong takes another deep breath as he sees that the conversation is not going the way he wanted it to. “Look, despite all that, I just figured you should know.”

You smile gently, and Hongjoong braces himself for the worst. “Well, thank you for letting me know that you’re falling for me too.”

Hongjoong’s brows scrunch at how you phrased that sentence…and then his mouth drops. “Too?” His voice cracks and you giggle, taking a step towards him.

“You heard me right, Joongie. You’re not the only one in love with their friend.”

Hongjoong can’t help his eyes tearing up, he really can’t. He wouldn’t say he’s an emotional guy per se but in this moment it seems all right to let it all out. “I’m glad,” he manages to choke out as he smiles back. “Can I kiss you?”

The question is sudden, but welcome judging from the shine in your eyes. “Please do,” you whisper, and Hongjoong moves to close the gap between you two. As his eyes close, he can’t help but think to himself that this is the life he wants to have forever.

#pirateeznet #kvanity #wkcnet #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong fanfiction #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fluff

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stitchdfox · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie is on tour pt 3

His eyes blur as he stares at his phone. The phone app open, taunting him with Steve’s contact info. His thumb hovers over the green call button. Hesitant.

“Come on, Munson. He told you to call him.” Eddie mumbles to himself.

“Joining us tonight?” Their drummer Gareth asks as he slaps Eddie on the shoulder.

“Ah. No. Gotta make a call.” Eddie holds his phone in the air.

“Who’s Steve?” Gareth asks.

Eddie blushes and locks his phone.

“Come on, Gar.” Jeff pulls him away as he flashes a knowing smile at Eddie.

Gods. He owed that man a shot of tequila and the best wingman award.

Eddie takes a breath. Finally tapping the call icon.

“Hey there.” Steve’s voice is groggy.

It only rang once. Was he waiting for him to call?

“Hey.” Eddie smirks. “It’s like 3 am in Indiana. What are you doing up so late?”

“Well, I’m actually in Chicago so it’s only 2 am. And I’m working on an essay for school. Deadline is coming fast.” There’s a rustle of papers being gathered. “May have accidentally dozed off…”

He’s so cute.

“Whatcha gonna be when you grow up, Stevie?” Eddie cringes at his awkwardness.

“Guidance councilor. Hopefully. Schools not the the easiest for me so, it’s been a lot of late nights.” Steve yawns. “How was the show?”

“Surreal.”

Steve hums.

“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll ever not be surreal.” Eddie stares up at the clear night sky above him. He’ll stay with the van outside the venue until the guys get back.

“I’ve loved music all my life. My uncle used to play the radio while we made breakfast. He shared his old records with me when I was old enough to understand how fragile they could be. From there I saved up for my first guitar, my baby, and I knew from the moment I first held her there was no turning back.”

“Wow.” Steve breathes low.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to—“

“Don’t be sorry, man. That’s so cool. What bands inspired you?” Steve asks, urging him on.

“There’s a few,” Eddie holds up his fingers as he names them. “Metallica- Master of Puppets was the first song I taught myself. Wild. You know how hard that song is to play? Worth it though. Then there’s Dio, Megadeath, Black Sabbath and Ozzy of course.”

“Of course.” Steve says.

“Do you even know who Ozzy is?”

“Yeah. I know who Ozzy is. He was on that reality show where they swore a lot.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “No Steve—“

“Yes Eddie. He was on that show.”

“Okay, yes he was on the show but do you know his music?” Eddie can’t help the smile that grows on his lips.

“Guess I have some more homework.”

“Steve, you don’t have to listen to them. I’m sure they’re not your taste.” Eddie runs his fingers nervously through his hair.

“I want to. If you like them then they have be pretty good.” Steve says.

“Don’t give me too much credit here, sweetheart. I’m just the guitarist of a small metal band.” Eddie slumps his shoulders.

“Come on! You’re on tour, literally right now on tour, with a big name band that invited you to join them. That’s huge.” Steve’s voice is loud and excited. “Like, where are you guys right now?”

“Denver.” He says low.

“See. I’ve never been west of St. Louis.” He goes quiet. “Anyway, it’ll be nice change of pace from my Harry Styles kick.”

Eddie let’s out a guffaw. “I would be into a One Direction fan.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Shit.” Eddie says to himself as he squats down, wrapping his arm around his bent knees.

“You’re… into me?” Steve asks with an air to his voice.

“I… um…”

Silence again.

“The honest answer?” Eddie sighs.

“Mhmm.” Steve’s voice is soft.

“Alright. Here goes.” Eddie stands up, a little light headed from the action. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I called you by accident that night. I don’t even know what you look like and it wouldn’t matter at this point. There is something so… so…” he’s at a loss of words.

“So what, Eddie?” Steve’s voice is a whisper.

“Amazing. Wonderful. Heart stopping. I want to write songs about you. And now that I’ve put myself out there I don’t even know if you’re into guys, let alone a stranger and—“

“Eddie.”

“I’ve ruined this like I ruin everything.”

“Eds.”

“I’m such an idiot and—“

“Babe.”

Eddie stops pacing in a circle and let’s that word settle in.

“I know it was your turn to spiral this time but you’ve gotta breathe.” Steve waits for him to take a deep breath. “It is a bit crazy but I… I mean… Me too! I was being honest when I told you I drove my best friend crazy talking about calling you.”

They both laugh and Eddie sighs.

Steve speaks again. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie taps the back of his head against the van.

“I should let you go, sweetheart. I’m sure you have class tomorrow.”

“I do. I’ll text you when I get home and maybe we can talk again?” His voice is a bit shaky. Nervous maybe.

“I’d love that.” Eddie’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest right there in the venue parking lot.

“Sweet dreams, rockstar.” Steve teases.

“Good night, big boy.” Eddie hangs up the call before Steve can respond.

His muscle loosen as he leans against the side of the van. His phone vibrates once in his hand. He looks down to see a message from Steve.

“Hope your imagination didn’t oversell my good looks. 😉”

There’s no way the picture to follow is of a real human being.

Steve has a strong jawline, moles dotting his face and neck, his hair is auburn and a bit on the long side, not that he had anything on Eddie’s length.

His eyes were bright and hazel. His smile wide and perfect.

Eddie opened the van door to dig in his bag. He pulls out his head phones, flops on the middle bench, and searches Spotify.

If he pulls up the “this is Harry Styles” playlist it was nobody’s business but his own.

——

Part 1 here.

Part 2 here.

Part 4 to follow. I’m kind of in love with this AU rn.

If you’re interested I’m posting on my Twitter as well.

#Steddie #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #modern au #they’re already in love #fan fic #fan fic update

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