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punkshort · 9 months ago

Text

Roommates | 9. hold onto each other

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You build up enough courage to finally talk things out with Joel and tell him how you feel before the wedding is over.

Chapter Warnings: language, food and alcohol consumption, lots of smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral (f!receiving), pussy pronouns, fluff, discussions of mental health, shower sex, mirror sex, having sex while on the phone (don't know what else to call it, also don't know if that requires a warning), thigh fucking?, dirty talk, idiots in love

WC: 7.6K

A/N: I will not apologize for what you're about to read. (It's filth. Pure, unadulterated filthy smut).

Series Masterlist

"That is the man you were roommates with?" your mother asked enviously as she gazed at Joel across the dance floor, who was standing with another groomsman while he held up his mom's pink sparkly phone to record her dancing with Tommy.

"Yep," you said longingly, tearing your eyes away from him to look back at your mom. She tilted her head to the side and her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

"He looks familiar."

Your eyes widened and you tried your best not to scream into the palms of your hands as images of your own mother stumbling across Joel's porn filled your head.

She snapped her fingers with a smile. "Mitch and I saw him at the bar the other night! He must have been helping Tommy, he was carrying boxes of alcohol."

You shook your head. "No, Mom, that couldn't have been him."

"No, I'm certain it was. I remember even telling Mitch at the time they looked alike. And I would never forget those arms. The way they practically burst out of his T-shirt-"

"Mom!" you whined, begging her to stop.

She chuckled and took a sip of her wine. "Oh, please, let me have my fun."

You groaned and drank the rest of your champagne. Well, at least she didn't recognize him from porn.

The song changed to another ballad and you watched as Mrs. Miller kissed Tommy on the cheek before breaking away and motioning towards Joel. A small smile tugged at your lips as he pocketed her phone and took her hand before leading her around the dance floor. His face was filled with such love and adoration that it made your heart melt.

As you continued to watch Joel and his mother move around the dance floor, you felt yourself growing nervous again. Now that the cake was cut and the first dances were done, most of the significant parts of the wedding were over. Which meant soon you would need to muster the courage to talk to Joel.

Fuck, maybe you should have one more drink.

No, you didn't want to be drunk when you told him. He needed to know you meant what you said. You've done enough to him in the past year, jerking him around and unintentionally hurting his feelings. If you had any shot in hell, you had to make sure you were somewhat clearheaded.

Your mother was just finishing up her cake when she looked over your shoulder. Her eyes lit up excitedly and she straightened up in her seat, smoothing down her dress. With a frown, you turned to see what she was looking at then felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Joel approaching.

"Evenin'," he said to your mother, his voice deep and syrupy. "I'm Joel, brother of the groom." He stuck out his hand and your mother giddily handed hers over while giving her name. He brought her knuckles to his lips and she giggled, making you roll your eyes.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she gushed, her cheeks tinting pink already.

"Pleasure's all mine, ma'am," he answered, dropping her hand with a smirk. She gave you a look and raised her eyebrows.

"Ma'am, did you hear that?" she loudly whispered to you.

"Yes, I am sitting right here," you said flatly.

Joel cleared his throat and you looked back up at him.

"Was wonderin' if I could have this dance," he said to you, then glanced at your mother. "If you could spare her, that is."

Your mother giggled again and waved him off. "Of course! You two have fun, I was getting ready to go home soon anyway."

You quickly said your goodbyes to your mom before allowing Joel to lead you out onto the dance floor. He took one of your hands and held it out to your side, the other sliding around your waist while you rested your hand on his shoulder with a smile.

"I'm so honored," you told him with a teasing lilt to your voice as he slowly lead you around the dance floor.

"Why?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"I haven't seen you dancing with anyone else except your mom."

He smirked and tilted his chin up to look somewhere over the top of your head. "You been watchin' me?"

Your cheeks warmed from embarrassment but you didn't really care. "Maybe."

He hummed, smirk still stretched across his lips as he looked around the banquet room, but he wasn't really looking at anyone or anything in particular.

"You look handsome."

His eyebrows shot up and he looked down at you once again. "Thank you?"

You giggled and felt his fingers grip your waist a little tighter. "Is that a question?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Tryin' to flatter me, what're you up to?"

The butterflies began to stir in your belly once again so you dropped your gaze. "Well, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."

The smile slowly slid from his face when he heard the serious tone to your voice. "Everythin' okay?"

"Y-yeah, everything's fine," you quickly assured him. Just then, Michael Bublé's voice faded out and the DJ picked a Black Eyed Peas song that instantly caused the dance floor to break out into cheers, completely ruining the atmosphere from a moment ago. "Nevermind," you said as you attempted to step away, but he tightened his grip. "I'll tell you some other time."

"Tell me now."

You winced when a handful of girls nearby began to drunkenly scream along to the lyrics. Joel looked frustrated when he finally dropped his hand from your waist but kept his other hand firmly wrapped around yours. "Follow me."

He lead you through the crowd and as you passed by your abandoned table, you grabbed your clutch. Shit. Were you really going to do this? Were you really going to pour your heart out to him in the middle of his brother's wedding? What if he shot you down? What if he got mad at you for trying to drag him into your messy life once again? What if you were about to ruin the fragile relationship you just rebuilt?

He pulled you into the lobby, which was relatively empty given the time of night, and found a small area with a few couches and chairs and a television airing the local news on mute with the closed captioning on.

"Alright," he urged when you sat down next to him on one of the couches. You could hear the bass thumping from the closed banquet room and people's laughter echoing over the music, but otherwise it was quiet. You fiddled with the hem of your dress, trying to give your nerves a chance to settle, but it was no use.

"So, I told you I've been in therapy," you began, staring down at your lap, pretending to find a loose thread in your dress.

"Mhm."

"Lately, I've been working on my insecurities and self destructive tendencies. Specifically, related to you."

His fingers that were once casually tapping on the back of the sofa suddenly stopped.

"Okay..." he said slowly.

You cleared your throat and kept your eyes pinned to your lap.

"... and your job," you added, biting the inside of your cheek. "I've been working on... learning to be okay with it. Focusing on the source of my insecurities and why I feel the way I feel about it and I think I've made some progress."

"That's... good," he told you, clearly confused. "But why are you tellin' me this?"

You sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to look at him. He was staring at you softly with his perfect lips pouting so enticingly, giving you the final bit of courage you needed to say what you wanted to say.

"I'm telling you this because... because I want to be with you, Joel. If you'll give me another chance, I want to do this right." His expression remained unchanged so you barreled ahead. "I don't care about your job. Not anymore. I just want to be with you. You make me happy, you make me laugh, I think about you all the time." You were growing more nervous with every passing second where he didn't say anything, so you continued to fill the silence with your own rambling thoughts. "Any time something good happens, I want to call you. Any time something bad happens, I want to call you. It's always you. It's always been you. And I'm sorry for everything I put you through and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to fix myself, but I couldn't -"

"Stop."

Your words died in your throat at his harsh tone. Biting your lip, you closed your eyes and tried not to cry as you waited for the sting of his rejection, but to your surprise, it never came. Instead, you felt his fingers gently pinch your chin. You opened your eyes to find him leaning forward, his gaze seeming angry despite his soft touch.

"You don't need to fix yourself," he said bitterly. "You're fuckin' perfect."

You exhaled loudly, a dry chuckle slipping past your lips as you wiped away a tear or two. "I'm not."

"You are," he told you firmly before finally closing the distance between you and brushing his lips softly against yours. "You are," he whispered again and again, each sweet kiss becoming more urgent than the last. You grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and held him close, pressing your mouth against his tightly before leaning back and pushing your foreheads together with a smile.

"Is that a yes?" you laughed.

"'Course it is, you kiddin' me?" he said quietly before sliding his hand up to grip the back of your neck, his nose gently nudging yours, the both of you taking a few tender moments to soak everything in with matching smiles. "I should probably tell you somethin', though."

One hand dropped from his collar and you tipped your head back a fraction so you could look him in the eye. "What?"

He grinned and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I quit my job."

Your eyes widened and you leaned all the way back in surprise. "What?!"

"Months ago, actually," he said with a laugh. You smacked him on the shoulder but you weren't mad. In fact, you were smiling so much it almost hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I didn't wanna pressure you. You said you were workin' on yourself and all that."

Your lower lip trembled and you smacked his shoulder again, but with less force. "I can't believe you," you whispered before tugging him forward and sliding your tongue past his lips with a moan. There was something so beautiful to be had in that moment. Each of you had done something monumental to try to make it work between you and it was so moving, so powerful that you found yourself getting carried away, completely forgetting where you were as you climbed into his lap, his hands immediately dropping to squeeze your ass. But who could blame you, when you've waited so long for that moment?

Joel pulled his head back with a sharp inhale, breaking the kiss when he heard a door across the lobby open and close. "Do you... we oughta... they're probably wonderin' where we are." He lifted one arm so he could check the time on his watch, then glanced back up at you. You were staring down at him, breathless and needy, your eyes already drifting back down to his mouth.

You didn't need to say anything.

"Fuck it, c'mon," he said, quickly lifting you off his lap so you could both stand. In your eagerness to race to the elevator, you almost forgot your purse. Doubling back as fast as your heels would carry you, you grabbed it from the couch and hurried back just as the elevator doors opened.

He jabbed the L4 button numerous times until the damn doors slid shut.

"Christ, wanted this for so long," he whispered, eyes squeezing shut when you pushed him up against the side of the elevator. "Wanted you for so long," he corrected himself after a moment. Your mouth found the exposed patch of chest at the top of his shirt and your tongue slipped out between your lips, flicking against his skin as you continued to leave wet kisses everywhere you could find. You made it to the hollow of his throat when the elevator dinged and you tore yourself away to drag him down the hall.

"Which room?"

"Don't care."

You picked yours. Your fingers were shaking as you raked through your small clutch, then tapped the hard plastic against the sensor, getting frustrated when you were going too quick and the door wouldn't open. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, digging his hips against your ass so you could feel his arousal through your clothes.

"Not helping," you muttered before forcing yourself to slow down and finally the door gave way and you stumbled inside.

His mouth was on you in an instant. Eager lips pressed against your own, champagne soaked tongues reunited, tangling together while you recklessly shoved his tuxedo coat over his shoulders, leaving it crumpled on the floor near the bathroom as you made your way to the bed.

Joel's hands slid up and down the back of your dress, fingers plucking at the fabric, trying to locate the zipper without having to pull away. You tugged one of his hands to your side without looking, blindly leading him to his target. He smiled against your lips and yanked the zipper down so fast, he nearly tore the fabric.

Leaving your dress in a pile at the foot of your bed, you pulled away from the kiss so you could fall back onto the mattress. Your chests were heaving in unison as you both fought for air, staring at one another, anticipation growing thick.

His eyes drifted down your almost naked body while his fingers worked the buttons on his dress shirt, lips parted to suck in more air as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Is this real?" he asked, eyes catching yours once again after he shrugged off his shirt.

"I think so," you replied quietly, sounding just as incredulous. "I hope so."

He loudly unbuckled his belt, then the fly of his pants as you laid before him, sprawled out over the plush comforter like an offering.

"Ain't ever lettin' you go after this," he warned as he stepped out of his pants. "Never again, hear me?"

You nodded. "Please don't."

He cupped his palms around the backs of your knees and tugged, pulling you to the edge of the bed with one rough motion.

"As pretty as these are, they gotta go," he murmured, hooking his fingers around the lace edge of your panties and sliding them down your legs. A little pained sound rumbled in the back of his throat when he spread your knees and saw the evidence of your arousal between your legs. He fell to his knees and rested the side of his face against your thigh as he gazed down at your aching center.

"Missed you," he whispered lovingly into your folds before dragging his tongue, slow and broad, through the entire length of your slit.

"Oh, my god," you whined when his lips puckered around your clit and gently sucked. "Were you talking to me or her?"

You felt his lips twitch against your sensitive skin and released your bundle of nerves with a little moan. "Was talkin' to her but I missed you, too."

Some sharp, sarcastic comment was on the verge of slipping past your lips but quickly got swallowed down and forgotten when he began to lick, his tongue probing into your cunt while his upper lip pressed against your clit. The friction from his beard on the most sensitive part of your body made you see stars. Your back arched and you cried out his name, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he continued to lick and suck with a deep groan.

"Joel," you whimpered, legs weakly stretching and kicking under his ministrations. He quickly put a stop to that by grabbing both and tossing them over his shoulders then using his hands to grip your thighs, but still you writhed in his hold.

"Y'got know idea what you do to me," he whispered under his breath before diving back in.

"Fuck... I-I can't..." you panted, fists grabbing the comforter, pulling and tugging, desperate to grab onto anything. His fingers dug into the crease of your thighs, holding your hips against his face, fucking you relentlessly with his tongue as if he were afraid he would never get a chance to do it again.

He slid one hand flat over your mound and pressed down on your clit with his thumb. You bucked off the bed, everything feeling too sensitive, too sharp. But still, he pinned you down, his tongue that was once lapping at your pussy suddenly more focused and calculated when his lips puckered together in favor of loudly kissing your sex with a deep groan.

With two quick and firm circles over your clit, you fell apart. He was saying something, you could feel the vibrations of his voice, but you had no idea what he said. Your throat had grown hoarse, fingers grabbing for his hair while your heart pounded in your ears.

"It ain't ever been like this," he said, and finally you were able to understand him. You slowly opened your eyes to find him hovering over you, his beard and mouth shiny with your slick and his eyes so wide and soft it made your chest ache.

"I know," you whispered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed when you pulled him close and pressed your mouth against his. He pushed you up the bed so your head rested on the pillows, never once breaking the deep kiss. It was slower, now. There was no rush, no need to hurry to keep what you had a secret.

"Shit, my condoms are 'cross the hall," he mumbled against your lips. The very last thing he wanted to do was leave you. Not now. Not ever.

"Just make sure you pull out," you told him, apparently also unwilling to let him leave, and reached down between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his thick length.

"Y-yeah, okay... okay," he breathed when he felt you line him up with your entrance.

His brain went numb and his features went slack as he slowly eased inside you. He couldn't take his eyes off your face; the way your eyebrows pinched together and the sound you made when you gasped softly, your body being forced to adjust to his size after months without him.

"Fuck," you whispered, eyes welling with tears as you gazed up at him.

"I know, I know," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips over your nose.

"Joel, I love you," you whimpered in his ear when he finally buried himself fully inside you.

"What?" he asked breathlessly, certain he misunderstood.

"I love you," you repeated, your teeth nipping at his chin as you writhed underneath him, willing him to move. His eyes squeezed shut and he wrapped his arms around your middle, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"I love you, too," he choked out, voice thick with emotion that he tried to stifle with kisses to your throat and jaw. "Love you so fuckin' much. Always did, I think."

He clenched his jaw and flexed his hips, pulling a sweet moan from your lips as you tipped your head back and closed your eyes. He was so slow with it, making sure you felt every inch when he dragged his cock in and out, your arousal painting his inner thighs every time his hips made contact with your skin. You might have felt embarrassed if you both weren't so preoccupied with trading love bites and occasionally whispering you feel so good, I missed you, I love you, I love you, I love you, chests pressed together, desperate to get as close as possible.

You unhooked your ankles from his lower back and slid your legs up his sides so your knees were resting near his ribs. With his tongue still tangled with yours, he blindly reached down to grab one of your thighs and gently pressed forward, pushing your knee towards your chest. Your eyes flew open and you gasped at the intense angle, but still he kept up the same pace. Every thrust was slow and deep, every groan was low and soft, and every whisper sounded like a prayer.

"Just wanna feel you," he murmured against your neck, his beard scraping your skin, making it feel warmer than it already was. "Wanna fuck you like this always. Shit, baby," he moaned when he felt you clench around him. "Shit, that feels good. Such a soft pussy..." he trailed off and latched onto your lips for a fast and messy kiss. "Oh, fuck... best fuckin' pussy I've ever had."

And oh, did you love hearing that. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp with a deep sigh.

"Yeah? You love her, too?"

He grinned. "Y'know I do."

He hitched your other leg over his arm, practically bending you in half while grinding into you, watching as your breath quickened and your tongue shot out to wet your lips. "Joel," you whined, the pressure mounting low in your belly, "I'm close, I'm... fuck, I'm gonna come. Please," you begged, not really sure what you were begging for in the first place. Maybe for him to keep going. Maybe for him to kiss you again. Maybe for him to fill the hole in your heart that's been destroying you for months.

When you came, you squeezed around his cock, his name getting caught in your throat when his mouth crashed over yours.

"So pretty," he mumbled, voice a little strained as he tried to keep it together long enough for you to come down. "Love watchin' you come. Who makes you feel good, baby?"

"You do," you whimpered, weak fingers grabbing at his shoulders.

"'S'right," he said, his breath growing ragged. He could feel his stomach tensing and he knew he only had a few more moments. "Only me. Tell me you're mine," he pleaded, his sweaty forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"I'm yours, Joel," you told him, voice a little clearer but still shaky. "And you're mine," you added softly, corner of your mouth lifting when you heard him groan.

He pulled out and grabbed his cock, giving it only a few quick strokes before he painted your stomach with his release, the both of you watching in a daze until he stopped with a shudder and collapsed onto the bed next to you, chest heaving with an arm draped tiredly over his eyes.

"I'll get somethin'," he told you, gesturing vaguely towards your stomach with his eyes still hidden. "Just... gimme a second."

"Mhmm," you mumbled, catching your breath with your arms stretched above your head. "I need a shower, anyway," you told him, all the hair products and makeup from the past twelve hours beginning to feel like paint.

"Oh?" he questioned, sounding disappointed when he turned his face to you. "Okay, sure."

"Will you stay?" you asked, hating how pathetic you sounded. But he smiled warmly and pinched your chin before planting a soft kiss against your lips.

"'Course I'll stay," he whispered, kissing you slowly once more before releasing you.

Joel watched with a lazy smirk as you stood with a quiet ow under your breath, your body no doubt already sore.

"Gonna have to get that pretty pussy used to me again," he teased, laughing and dodging the pillow you grabbed from the other bed that you chucked in his direction before entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

He laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the water turn on and the shower door close. He kept waiting to wake up, kept thinking the past hour was some crazy dream or fantasy, but it was real.

You loved him.

For years, he tried to find someone like you. Someone who would love him for him and not just use him. Sure, in the beginning he didn't mind being used. But the past few years he found to be painfully lonely. Especially once Tommy met Maria, that ache in his chest grew every time he saw them together, or every time he heard Tommy on the phone or talk about her with such fondness in his eyes. Selfishly, he always wondered why not me?

Now he had his answer. He was just waiting for you.

He heard you humming in the shower, your voice echoing off the glass walls and he smiled. He imagined you in there cleaning yourself up, your perfect body all soapy and wet and he felt his cock twitch.

"Shit," he muttered, lifting the thin sheet to see himself begin to swell once again. Would it always be like this? Would he always have an insatiable appetite for you?

A minute later and he was almost fully hard once more. He palmed it over the sheet and he looked longingly at the closed bathroom door. What was taking so long?

Then a smirk spread across his face and he jumped up from the bed, cock bobbing at attention between his legs as he walked to the bathroom and quietly opened the door.

The mirror was fogged up and so were the glass shower walls. He could hardly see you through all the steam, but he heard you. He heard the water cascading off your body and your fingers running through your wet hair.

Carefully, he opened the door and was pleased to find your back was to him as you rinsed out the last of your conditioner. When he wrapped his arms around your waist, you jumped and screamed a little before collapsing into a fit of laughter and turning around in his arms. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. All the makeup was down the drain but you looked more radiant than ever.

He leaned forward for a wet kiss, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze your ass before pulling on your hips, tugging you closer so you could feel how hard he was for you.

"Need you," he murmured, but he meant more than just the obvious. He didn't want to be without you now that he had you, not even for a second.

"Already?" you breathed, but he just nodded, his lips dragging down your neck, your skin smelling like roses and vanilla.

"Too much?" he asked, mouth trailing slowly over your shoulder. Your nipples were pressed against his chest and his cock nearly hurt from how hard he was.

"No," you whispered, letting your eyes slide shut as you curled your arms around his neck. "Never too much."

Without hesitation, he crouched and grabbed the backs of your thighs, hauling you off the ground so he could press your back against the glass. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gasped when the tip of his cock nudged at your opening, the width surprising you, even still.

You let out a loud moan when he pressed forward, sinking himself back into your sore, aching heat, right where he belonged. One of his hands supported your ass and the other was flat against the glass next to your head, his fingers leaving wet smudges as he rocked his hips into you, swallowing down every whine and moan that tumbled from your mouth. That perfect fucking mouth he dreamed about for the past year. And now it was all his.

"God, Joel, yes... right there," you cried out, cunt already pulsing and gripping him so tight that he had half a mind not to pull out that time.

"Yeah?" he groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he nipped at your chin, watching as your head rolled listlessly against the foggy glass while he drove into you over and over. "There?"

"Yeah," you practically whined, hand shooting up to grab his hair, fingers slipping through his wet curls. "No one's ever... I can't... you're so-" you rambled half formed thoughts as your heart hammered in your chest, your orgasm steadily climbing, unable to tell him what you wanted to tell him.

"No one's what, baby?" he growled, thrusting himself impossibly deeper inside your cunt. "No one's ever fucked you this good? Huh?"

"No," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip.

"What else? No one's ever made you come this much? Tell me, I wanna hear it," he groaned in your ear, his hot breath melting with the steam from the shower.

You shook your head then nodded, as if you didn't know how to answer. And you couldn't. Not when he was fucking you like it would be the last time.

"No one's ever - oh, fuck," you gasped, swallowing a mouthful of air, "no one's ever m-made me feel so good. I've never w-wanted anyone the way I want you." You squeezed your eyes shut but he quickly bit your jaw, forcing them back open.

"Keep your eyes on me."

You nodded, jaw half open as you did as you were told. His brows were furrowed deep, eyes wild and skin flushed as he pounded into you, forcing you over the edge for the third time in less than two hours.

"I got you," he murmured when your body sagged from the effort. He wrapped both arms around you now and fucked up into you recklessly, chasing his own high as quickly as possible so he could take you back to bed and rest.

Even though the voice inside his head was screaming at him to come inside you, he miraculously pulled out, spilling himself all over the shower wall between your legs.

"You okay?" he asked breathlessly, setting you down but still holding onto your shoulders. You nodded and slumped against his chest, legs visibly shaking. He chuckled and reached for the shower knob, turning the water off before walking you towards the door. Swinging it open, he reached out blindly for a towel. Finding one, he wrapped it around your shoulders, swaddling you and keeping you warm while he reached for another.

He messily knotted it around his waist and led you to bed. You didn't even bother to put any pajamas on or remove the towel, you just buried yourself under the covers with a contented sigh.

Joel was about to turn back to the bathroom and clean up a bit before you spoke.

"Come to bed."

His heart clenched in his chest and he smiled as he rounded the bed and slid under the sheets to join you, unable to resist.

Quickly, you scooted over to him, tossing a leg over his stomach and an arm over his chest and buried your face against his neck. He held you close, breathing in deep before you whispered, "I love you, Joel."

"I love you, too," he spoke into your hair, his chest ready to burst with happiness as you both fell into a deep sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, you smiled before you even opened your eyes. Joel's natural scent combined with the floral shampoo you used that the hotel had left out filled your nostrils. You breathed in deep and buried your face further into his warm, bare chest. He stretched underneath you, muscles pulling under his tanned skin, his fingers digging into your shoulders as he flexed.

"Morning," you whispered groggily, eyes still closed. You felt his arms wrap around you as he rolled onto his side, tugging you against him.

"Mornin'."

It can always be like this now, you thought. Waking up next to each other whenever you wanted. No sneaking around, no more hiding how you felt. It was perfect.

Until Joel's phone rang shrilly on his nightstand. He groaned and, keeping one arm securely around you, reached behind him to grab it.

"Hello?" he answered, voice thick and rough with sleep. Your body responded instantly, your core softening at his voice like it was a command, but what came with it was also a tight hint of soreness from the night before.

You could hear Tommy's voice through the phone, but you couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Nah, I'm hungover as shit, gonna order somethin'," Joel said.

You thought he had been joking the night before about getting your body used to him again, but you began to realize he was probably being serious the more you squirmed around and felt the stiffness in your muscles and hips.

"Yeah, alright. If I don't see ya later, I'll catch ya at the bar tomorrow."

He tapped his screen and tossed his phone haphazardly behind him with a smirk. "C'mere," he murmured, pressing his swollen lips against yours, his hand drifting to cup your face.

Christ, you were sore but you still wanted him so badly.

You flicked your tongue against the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss the second he dropped his jaw. Right when you were about to curl your leg around his hip and roll over to straddle him, your own phone began to vibrate loudly against your nightstand.

You both froze, lips still seared together, then slowly opened your eyes.

"Hold on," you grumbled, rolling over so your back was to Joel, then picked up your phone.

"It's Maria."

"Answer it," he said, inching closer. He pulled you back against his chest, cock hard and pressing between your bodies as you begrudgingly answered the phone.

"Hey! Have a fun night?" you asked cheerily. Your eyes snapped up to see movement in the full length mirror across from the bed. It was narrow, but you could see from your stomach down. Joel was pushing the sheets off himself and you watched as his hand drifted in front of you, tugging the sheet away from your chest, exposing yourself to the cool air. When he palmed one of your breasts from behind, you had to bite back a moan so Maria wouldn't hear.

"So much fun! I hardly got any sleep," she was saying, but you could barely hear her when his fingers slid down to pinch your nipple. You turned your face upwards to gasp softly, hoping it didn't get picked up by the receiver.

"Yeah?" you asked, hoping that would be enough to encourage her, and it was.

Maria kept babbling about things that happened the night before, things you missed after you and Joel snuck away. She was telling you something about a groomsman who attempted to do a split in the middle of the dance floor and ended up ripping his pants when you saw Joel lift your leg in the mirror, hooking it around his inner elbow and spreading your hips wide. Embarrassment flushed your face when you saw your pussy in the mirror, already glistening with arousal.

Then his cock slipped between your legs, nudging at your folds, his smooth tip coating itself in your slick before he pushed forward, parting your swollen cunt. The pain was brief, yet intense, but you were entirely distracted with the way it looked in the mirror. How fucking big he was and how you opened up and stretched so beautifully for him.

"Did the phone cut out?"

"Huh?" you squeaked, eyes transfixed on your reflection, hips rocking steadily in rhythm with his. You felt him chuckle behind you, his arm pulling your leg up even more so you could see everything.

"I asked if you wanted to join us for breakfast? The rest of the bridal party is meeting at the restaurant downstairs in twenty minutes."

Fuck, he felt so good. Combined with the visual, it was almost too much.

"Uh, I'm gonna pass. I already ate, I'm pretty full," you told her, eyes briefly fluttering shut when he began to move faster, his skin lightly slapping against your ass. You thought you heard him mumble yeah, you are, and you had to bite down hard on your lower lip.

"Well, okay. If you change your mind, we'll be down there at ten."

"Okay, thanks! I better go, my mom's beeping in. I'll call you later," you said hurriedly, hoping you weren't being too rude but if you stayed on the phone with her for one more minute, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide what you were really doing.

Mercifully, she hung up and you tossed your phone onto the floor, uncaring where it ended up, and reached behind you to curl your fingers around the back of Joel's head. He leaned forward and kissed you. It was messy and heated, and the way you had to twist your neck was awkward, but it didn't matter.

"Fuck yeah, baby. Look how good you take me," he groaned in your ear when he spotted you glancing towards the mirror again. "So pretty, ain't it?"

"Mhmm," you whined, still entranced by the way his thick cock split you open and you knew for sure in that moment no one else would ever come close to Joel. You were stupid to try to fight it.

Your hand dropped to clutch your pillow, your stomach drawing tighter the faster he snapped his hips, every devastating thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you whimpered, and he readjusted his grip on your leg, prying you open as wide as you would go.

You felt his teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hot and quick as his exhale puffed against your skin.

"That's right. Come all over my cock, baby. Give it t'me," he growled, hips slamming into you from behind so forcefully it almost pushed you off the bed, each thrust driving him deeper and deeper inside you.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you cried out when you came, your walls pulsing around his length, your body trying to suck him in and keep him there and fuck if he didn't want that, too.

At the last second he pulled out, watching in a daze as he dropped your leg, his cock now sandwiched between your thighs. With a deep groan, he watched in the mirror as he shot thick, white ropes of his seed all over your legs and the hotel sheets.

"I love you," he gasped, his sweaty forehead pressed against your upper back as he dragged in mouthfuls of air, waiting for his pulse to settle. "'M sorry, can't stop sayin' it."

You reached behind you and found his hand. Lacing your fingers together, you wrapped his arm around your middle, mumbling I love you, too, never tiring of it.

You waited a respectable amount of time for the bridal party to eat and leave the restaurant before venturing downstairs together, hand in hand. You contemplated just ordering room service but you weren't entirely certain you could keep your hands off each other long enough to eat, so forcing yourselves to leave the room felt like the best option.

The hostess led you to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, the room still buzzing with activity even though it was late in the morning. Your fingers linked together across the table as you sipped your coffees, exchanging little smirks whenever your eyes met.

"Can I ask you a question?" Joel asked, and you almost found yourself laughing at how serious he suddenly looked.

"Of course."

He glanced around the dining room quickly before leaning across the table. "You ain't on birth control anymore?"

You knocked the heel of your hand against your forehead. "I'm sorry, I should've told - no, I'm not. I took myself off the pill because I wasn't... y'know," you trailed off, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Joel couldn't stop his smirk when he put it together so he pursed his lips and tilted his face toward the table, trying to hide it before saying, "so you're tellin' me you didn't have sex with anyone else since me?"

"Don't act so proud," you teased with a grin.

"I ain't," he said defensively, then thought about it for a moment before laughing. "Okay, maybe I am."

You giggled as you watched him take a sip of coffee, daydreaming about your future together and all the endless breakfasts you'll share. You imagined getting up early for work and showering, then coming into the kitchen to find Joel in just his pajama bottoms pouring you both coffees with unkept hair, asking if you saved him enough hot water because he still had to get ready for work.

Work. Suddenly, your smile fell when you remembered something. "Wait, you said you quit your job?" you asked, and he nodded, his thumb rubbing against the inside of your wrist. "So what do you do now?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "You ain't gonna believe it."

"Try me," you teased, knees bumping together under the table. You were close but still felt so far apart.

"I bought the bar," he said, sounding almost sheepish. Your eyes widened in surprise.

"Our bar? Tommy's bar?" you questioned, and he nodded. "H-how?"

He chuckled again and raked his fingers through his hair with his free hand. "What'dya mean how? With money."

"Yeah, I figured that," you said with a roll of your eyes, "but you just bought a house, too. How can you afford all that?"

He opened his mouth to reply when the server came to drop off your food. You finally unlinked your hands so you could pick up your silverware, and only once your waitress left did he respond to your question.

"Porn paid good," he said with a shrug. "I did it for a long time and I lived with my brother payin' next to nothin' in rent and utilities."

"Wow," you breathed in awe before shoveling some eggs in your mouth.

He watched you eat quietly for a few minutes before clearing his throat, drawing your attention from your breakfast.

"Why didn't you just ask me to quit? I woulda done it."

You paused your chewing and set your fork down on your plate.

"Because," you began, swallowing your food. "I couldn't ask you to do that for me. It wouldn't feel right and I was afraid if I did, you would grow to resent me."

His brows furrowed and he reached a hand across the table for you. "I woulda never resented you."

"You don't know that," you told him.

"I wasn't happy doin' it. Not like I used to be, anyway," he said. "Kept me from havin' certain things in my life. Could never make a relationship work and as I got older, it was somethin' I really wanted. I just didn't know how to get out. I mean, who can put somethin' like that on a resume?" he laughed softly. "Then Tommy mentioned his boss was lookin' to retire and I thought, hell... won't have to put shit on a resume if I'm my own boss."

You nodded and squeezed his hand, feeling guilty for never realizing he had his own internal struggles going on. Then you swallowed nervously before asking your next question, your curiosity unable to be ignored.

"Well, what about Sadie?" you asked, "she seemed really into you and she obviously wouldn't have had a problem with your career."

He gave you a small smile, eyes flashing with guilt when he thought back to his brief date with Sadie. The night he invited her over for board games and he ended up going down on you in the bathroom while she was left to talk to strangers in the living room.

"She was nice but there wasn't anythin' there. Not really. I was jealous of Sam and knew she liked me... I shouldn't've asked her over that night. It was wrong," he admitted, rubbing his chin. "She never stood a chance. She wasn't you, baby," he said softly.

You felt your chest clench from the tortured look in his eye, and for the millionth time you mentally berated yourself for spending so much time avoiding your feelings for him. Choosing not to deny yourself any longer, you stood up from your chair and closed the short distance between you. Cupping his face with both your hands, you leaned down and kissed him, trying your very best to put every ounce of love you had into it. It must have worked because you could feel his lips curving into a smile, then yours did the same.

It didn't matter how long it took, what mattered was what you had now.

Unfortunately, your bliss was short lived when you heard an all too familiar voice shriek excitedly behind you. You tore yourself away to swivel around in surprise, only to find Tommy and Maria standing a few tables away with their jaws hung open in shock, very clearly having witnessed your kiss.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, tugging on Tommy's arm to drag him over to your table. "I knew something was up when neither of you wanted to join us for food!"

Cheeks blazing hot with embarrassment, you were about to return to your chair but Joel's arm wrapped around you, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap. "No more hidin', yeah?" he murmured in your ear. You grinned and gave him one more quick peck.

"Yeah," you agreed right before they approached. "No more hiding."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us au #roommates fic

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bluetimeombre · 1 year ago

Text

: ̗̀➛ Call it what you want to

You're an up-coming star, staring in some hit movies like Hunger games Ballad of songbirds and snakes and now Wonka, along the Timothee Chalamet.

[i'm obsessed with my man and just need to ignore the fact he's dating someone that isn't me. anyway, you're an up-coming actress who stared in the new hunger games movie and now you're also staring in wonka, the people love you and maybe, so does a co-star of yours] not proof read. this was very fun to write so maybe i'll do more, if anyone likes it. or just for me

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tayrussell, joshandresrivera, tomblyth, sadiesink_, tchalamet & others

yourusername: wonka press tour starts now!

809k likes. 304k comments

user: wait, you're in wonka?!

user: I LOVE YOU!!

user: mother giving us content, as always

tchalamet: now you've posted can you come up and help me

yourusername: no

tchalamet: pls!!!

user: omg she really said no to timothee chalamet, who does she thin she is?

user: slayyyy

user: isn't wonka supposed to suck

tomblyth: from one press tour to another, i see

yourusername: girls got to earn a living

tomblyth: she doesn't let the grass grow

user: say hi to timothee for me!!!!

user: omg how is she getting all the hottest guys in hollywood rn? gurl leave some for us

wonkamovie: 😍😍

balladofsongbirdsandsnakes: 😍😍😍

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you were flicking through comments by your friends when your phone started to ring, the familiar picture of your co-star flicking up on your phone. quickly, you dimissed yourself from your assistant and took the call. 'yes?'

'I need your help.'

'Timothee, you're old enough to zip up your own jacket,' you tease, leaning on the wall.

'I don't know what jumper to wear, what are you wearing? we'll coordinate.'

you'd opted for something of your own style. a jumper with pinks and blues and a white flowering skirt with a ring almost on every finger. this was only your second big press tour and sitting next to timothee chalamet every day for it was enough to make you nervous. so nervous you woke every morning wondering if you'd throw up. it didn't help you were also surrounded by others you'd looked up to, like olivia coleman and hugh grant. how were you supposed to keep your cool for months. even if now you were considered just as big a star.

'don't you have a stylist for this?' you ask, looking at the crew around, ready to go but waiting for him.

'there's three options and i don't know which one to go for. can't you just come up.'

you could, sure. go to timothee's hotel room and see him probably shirtless. once you'd have dreamt of it, but things were different, now you just didn't have a silly celebrity crush. now he was your co-star and very off limits.

'option two now come on, please.' quickly, you end the call and pick up your coffee, heading to the room where you'd be sat for the next eight hours answering questions with timothee.

you were there first, shaking hands with the interviewer and introducing yourself to her. you took your seat, making little chatter before timothee chalamet walked in, calm, cool and collected. completely different to your flushed and smiling expression.

you watched as he quickly said hello to everyone in the room and greeted the lady who'd be conducting the interview.

timothee turned to you, arms out wide and waiting. laughing, you put your coffee down and stood up, giving him a hug. you shared small pleasantries before he took his seat next to you, shuffling around and settling in. only then did you realise how much your jumpers looked the same, both smudges of similar colours. you blushed more as timothee watched, silently wondering what could make you so red. as if he had no idea what he did to you just by sitting down next to him.

'I have had scrub scrub stuck in my head since seeing the movie,' she- charline, said as you and timothee laugh. 'do you guys have a favourite song you got to perform?'

'I mean, pure imagination was quite a surreal experience. you know, getting to sing something that was so ... iconic, it was-it was a lot of fun. and a lot of pressure, but, in a good way,' said timothee.

'you killed it,' you assure, casually.

'thank you,' he smiled.

'i really enjoyed you've never had chocolate like this number. that was just so fun, the dancing and all,' you say, timothee nodding and agreeing.

'for a moment was fun to, i guess,' added timothee. 'we got to dance.'

you grin at the memory. 'we did.' you remembered the a million takes, timothee singing practically to you while prancing around. it was your favourite scene to shoot because it was such an easy and happy scene. you didn't have to think about it, just held timmy's hand as he twirled you around the place.

'and i know we're here to talk about wonka but i just have to say-' she gestured to you, 'congratulations on hunger games, biggest movie in the world.'

you wave her off, thanking her as timmy claps for you. 'thank you, thank you.'

'i was wondering what was your favourite song to film there on that set and how does it compare to singing on this one.'

ranting about yourself or your achievements was always hard for you. your stardom and come so quickly with hunger games and wonka, so much so you felt like you didn't deserve half of it.

'i mean, for hunger games it was all live. i sang them there and then so that's daunting in itself, um. i loved filming pure as the driven snow, just because i got to- essentially- sing it to tom. it was just him and me and the crew, like for those shots there was no extra's so that was great fun. a special moment. and singing it to him made it a whole lot easier. whereas on this movie, luckily it was all like pre-recorded so, not so daunting. didn't have to sing in front of timothee chalamet,' you say.

he listened carefully to you, seeing your smile at mentioning tom blyth, your co-star from the hunger games. he'd never met the guy, he was probably lovely- from the amount you talked about him. 'you've got a great singing voice.'

'thanks man.'

'this cast is just so insane and obviously you two got close during filming,' says charline, gesturing to the two of you.

timothee nudged you with his head, like he'd done a thousand times before knowing how much you secretly loved it. just like a horse, as had been quoted.

'who's more british, olivia or hugh?'

'hugh, easily,' you say. you loved all of hugh's movies, but you'd never say that to his face.

'you know, i'm gonna go and say you,' says timothee, turning to you.

you drop you jaw, pointing to yourself. yes, you were british, but more so than than the hugh grant seemed impossible. 'me?'

'yea, i mean, hugh grant is like a walking union jack- and i mean that in the best way possible, but you seem so much more like british. you know, wicked sense of humor and the charm and- you love london,' he pointed out.

'i do love london,' you agreed.

'did you have fun filming in england, timothee?' she asked.

they want on and on to talk about filming the movie, answering questions in depth and it was sure the two of you had great answers, listening intently together and everyone could tell. your chemistry was there, your smiles and answers together were almost so perfect it was like it was practiced and the fans ate it up!

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... zendaya, mtv, kyliejenner, yourusername, wbpictures & others

tchamalmet: WONKA!!! coming soon

tagged: yourusername

1.1m likes, 609k comments

user: he posted! he posted!

user: we are getting FED

user: i just know this is all yourusername influence

user: not kylie liking...

user: statistics! statistics!

liked by yourusername

yourusername: bring back little timmy tim!

yourusername: out of all the pictures you chose that one

user: anyone else think her and timmy are getting too close

user: like fr she stealin my man

user: i love them!!!

user: i swear something is going on with her and tom blyth

user: she's just like us!

user: LOVE!!!!!

user: her and timmy >>> him and kylie

user: plssss, i love kylie

user: is wonka a musical

user: TIMMY I WANT TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN!!!

user: fave bob dylan song?

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tomblyth, rachelzeglar, tchalamet, hunterschafer, zendaya & others

yourusername: ballad of song birds and snakes is number one movie? more like i'm the number one most grateful person out there for this chance and being trusted with my girl lucy-grey!!! thank you, thank you, thank you!!

tagged: tomblyth

1m likes 477k comments

tomblyth: lots of love my dear !

user: pls the second picture was so unncesary she just wanted to post it

user: MOTHER

user: parents are parenting

user: I LOVED THIS FILM

user: tom blyth is honestly so hot like wtf

rachelzeglar: my luv <3

yourusername: omg my gf everybody!!!!

joshandresrivera: funny how you don't post a picture of me

yourusername: it's funny because i don't like you

joshandresrivera: tomblyth you gonna let her talk to me like that??

tomblyth: she's the boss

user: how is she so amazing in everything

user: wonder how she got this job? she's literally as plain as a plank

user: hi!

user: the film was insane, i'm obsessed

user: i need this film injected into my veins

user: she's so good at singing, get her on broadway!!!

tchalamet: very proud

yourusername liked tchalamet's comment

user: why would you post the second pic unless they're clearly dating

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

user: pls why do i ship them so hard!!

user: lol it looks like he's just refusing to answer questions without her

user: is nobody gonna talk about how they were basically wearing the same jumpers?

user: no because i thought the exact same thing

user: someone pointed it out in an interview and timothee said it was 100% planned, they're so cute

user: doesn't he have a girlfriend?

user: isn't she with tom blyth? they look like they're together?

user: they haven't confirmed it

user: they don't need to did you see her post on instagram?! it was all just him

user: no but the way she's just constantly blushing around him

user: so would you if you were sat next to the timothee chalamet

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #timothée chalamet #tom blyth #i need him biblically #timothee x you #wonka 2023 #timothee chalamet x reader #timmy #tom blyth x reader #the hunger games #wonka #actress #social media

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scoupsakakitty · 5 months ago

Text

Where Friendship Meets Fate | idol!Mingyu x reader | fluff

The smell of sizzling meat filled the air as the group gathered around the grill, the small Korean BBQ restaurant bustling with energy. Y/N sat next to her childhood friend Dino, who had been hyping up this get-together for weeks.

“You’re going to love my hyungs,” Dino had promised with a grin when he’d invited her. “They’re fun, easy to talk to, and kind of chaotic—but in a good way.”

Now, Y/N was finally meeting them: Vernon, who exuded coolness but had an unexpectedly goofy side, DK, who was radiating sunshine with every word, and Mingyu, the tall, handsome guy sitting to her right. From the moment they introduced themselves, Y/N could tell that Dino hadn’t been exaggerating.

“Y/N!” DK exclaimed as she reached for the tongs to flip the meat. “Wait, wait! Let Mingyu do it. He takes grilling way too seriously.”

Mingyu, who was in the middle of pouring himself a drink, raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me? I’m not that bad.”

“You literally Googled the perfect grilling technique last time,” Vernon deadpanned, taking a sip of his soda.

“And let’s not forget the meat thermometer incident,” Dino added, smirking.

“Hey, that was one time!” Mingyu protested, taking the tongs from Y/N with a mock sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I want us all to eat perfectly grilled meat.” He looked over at Y/N and gave her a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Y/N laughed, leaning back in her seat. “You sound like you’re auditioning for a cooking show.”

“That’s because he thinks he’s a professional chef,” Vernon teased.

“Let him be,” DK chimed in with a grin. “We all know he’s trying to impress Y/N.”

At that, Mingyu almost dropped the tongs, his ears turning red. “What?! I—no—I mean, come on, DK!”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Mingyu. I’m already impressed by your dedication to grilling.”

“See?” Mingyu said, pointing at her with the tongs. “At least someone here appreciates me.”

As the evening went on, the banter continued, with everyone sharing stories and cracking jokes. Dino told embarrassing childhood anecdotes about Y/N, much to her dismay.

“And then,” Dino said, barely able to contain his laughter, “she got her foot stuck in the playground fence because she thought she could fit through it.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why do you always bring that up? I was six!”

Mingyu leaned closer to her, his voice teasing. “So, you’ve always been a bit of a risk taker?”

“More like reckless,” Vernon added with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, enough about me,” Y/N said, pointing at Dino. “Remember when you—”

“Don’t even start,” Dino cut her off, laughing as he held up his hands.

The conversation shifted again, and somehow, Y/N and Mingyu found themselves deep in a discussion about cooking.

“Do you cook often?” Mingyu asked, turning his attention to her while the others debated the best karaoke songs.

“Yeah, when I have time,” Y/N said. “It’s kind of my escape after a long day.”

“Same here,” Mingyu said, nodding. “It’s like therapy, but with food.”

Y/N smiled. “Exactly. Though I’ve had my fair share of disasters in the kitchen.”

“Disasters are part of the process,” Mingyu said. “It just means you’re experimenting.”

“Sounds like something a food scientist would say,” Y/N teased.

Mingyu laughed, a deep, warm sound that made her stomach flutter. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just looking for someone to try my experiments with.”

DK, overhearing, leaned over with a sly grin. “Are you asking her to be your cooking partner, Mingyu?”

“Mind your business, hyung,” Mingyu shot back, but he was smiling.

————————————————————————————-

By the time they finished eating, everyone was full and in high spirits. Dino suggested they hit a karaoke bar, and the group eagerly agreed.

The karaoke bar was vibrant and loud, the perfect setting for their group’s chaotic energy. DK and Dino immediately grabbed the microphones, belting out dramatic ballads and over-the-top dance moves that had everyone in stitches. Vernon followed up with a rap song, his surprisingly good flow earning him cheers.

Y/N and Mingyu stayed near the back of the room, occasionally joining in but mostly talking and laughing. Mingyu was easy to talk to, and his teasing, while relentless, only made the conversation more fun.

“So,” Mingyu said during a lull in the music, ��are you not singing because you’re shy, or because you can’t reach the mic stand?”

Y/N gasped, pretending to glare at him. “That’s it. Give me the mic. I’m about to prove you wrong.”

Laughing, Mingyu handed her the microphone. She chose a playful, upbeat song and sang with so much enthusiasm that DK and Dino joined in as backup dancers. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause.

“Okay, I take it back,” Mingyu said, grinning. “You can definitely hold your own.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, pretending to bow. “I expect an apology for the height joke, though.”

Mingyu smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”

————————————————————————————-

Hours later, the group finally decided to call it a night. Outside the karaoke bar, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

“I’ll drive Y/N home,” Mingyu offered casually, twirling his car keys in his hand.

“You don’t have to—” Y/N started, but Dino cut her off.

“Take the offer. You know you hate walking home late at night.”

With a reluctant smile, Y/N nodded. “Alright, thanks, Mingyu.”

————————————————————————————-

As they drove through the quiet streets, the atmosphere in the car was warm and easy. Mingyu turned on some soft music, and they chatted about everything from their favorite foods to their most embarrassing cooking failures.

When they pulled up to her building, Mingyu turned off the engine and glanced over at her.

“I had fun tonight,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, smiling.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Can I get your number? You know, in case I need someone to taste-test my next cooking experiment.”

Y/N laughed. “Only if you promise not to call me short again.”

“No promises,” Mingyu teased, handing her his phone.

After she saved her number, Mingyu leaned back with a satisfied smile. “How about this: we cook together sometime? You can teach me how to not burn pancakes.”

“Deal,” Y/N said, opening the car door.

As she stepped out, Mingyu called after her, “Oh, and don’t worry—I’ll bring a stool so you can reach the top shelves.”

Y/N groaned, but her laughter echoed in the quiet night.

As Mingyu drove away, he couldn’t stop smiling. For him, the evening had been more than fun—it felt like the start of something special.

————————————————————————————-

#seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu svt #svt x y/n #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt #svt imagines #svt fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic

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kysstar · 11 days ago

Text

BURN FOR THE SPOTLIGHT | CHAPTER TWO : : RIVALRY NEVER DIES

pairing : : kang yeosang x idol!reader

series synopsis : : you and yeosang have been rivals since childhood—outsmarting, outshining, and outdoing each other at every turn. years later, just when you thought you were free, he shows up at KQ as a trainee. on camera, you're civil. off camera, it’s war all over again. but rivalry feels different now.

genre : : academic rivals to lovers, idol au

chapter warnings : : mentions of alcohol

word count : : 2.4k

[ series masterlist ]

—You never meant to become a trainee.

In fact, you could probably write a whole essay titled "The Many Reasons Why I Would Never Be a K-pop Idol." At the top of that list? You weren’t the type. Too loud. Too opinionated. And absolutely not the kind of person to spend hours perfecting a dance move when you could be sleeping or binge-watching dramas.

But life had other plans. And those plans started with karaoke and bad decisions.

It was your best friend’s birthday. Which meant drinks, singing off-key, and screaming your lungs out to second-gen hits in a tiny, overly decorated karaoke room.

You had been gone. Drunk off cheap soju, yelling the lyrics to Wonder Girls’ “So Hot” like it was your last performance on earth. Somewhere in between pretending you were the main vocalist of a nonexistent girl group and fake crying through a sad ballad, a man had stepped into the room.

You barely remembered him.

Just the vague image of him standing there in slacks and a half-unbuttoned shirt, holding some business card you couldn’t be bothered to read. He’d said something about “potential” and “audition” and “KQ Entertainment,” but you waved him off, too busy fighting for the mic with your friend.

“Cool story, man,” you had said, mid-song. “Go scout someone who can actually hit this high note.”

The next morning, your head was pounding.

Your phone buzzed with a new number and a message that read:

“Congratulations. You’ve been selected to join KQ Entertainment’s trainee program. Please report to the address below by Friday.”

You blinked. Then read it again.

“What the hell is KQ?”

Your friend nearly choked on her cereal. “BLOCK B’s company.”

“Okay... and?”

“ZICO used to be under KQ. ZICO. You have to go. For me.”

You laughed it off. “They probably got the wrong person. I was drunk, remember?”

“They heard you drunk and still want you. That’s either insane or you’re secretly talented.”

You weren’t convinced. But your friends? They staged a whole intervention.

“You literally hate school right now.”

“You have nothing to lose.”

“Just go for a day and ghost them if it’s weird.”

And so, against your better judgment, you went.

And it was… quiet.

Suspiciously quiet.

Where were the rooms packed with hopeful trainees? The hallways buzzing with nervous energy? You’d heard stories—other companies had floors filled with them. But here, the lobby was empty, the halls silent. You walked around, confused, until a staff member finally guided you to the training floor.

That’s when you met him.

Kim Hongjoong.

He was sitting cross-legged on the practice room floor, scribbling into a notebook, headphones in, completely absorbed in whatever track he was building.

He looked up as you entered. Paused. Then stood up so fast his notebook flew off his lap.

“Hi—! Are you a trainee?”

You blinked. “…Yeah. I think so?”

His face lit up like someone had turned on a switch inside him. “You’re new?”

You nodded slowly. “I just got in today.”

He practically beamed. “I’m Hongjoong. I’ve been here alone for—like, months. You’re the first person they brought in after me.”

He looked like he wanted to throw a welcome party on the spot.

From that moment on, you stuck together.

Hongjoong was your first friend in KQ. He showed you where everything was, how to check the schedule board, when Eden usually came in for training sessions, what to eat from the vending machines when lunch breaks got skipped.

You weren’t used to the schedule yet. Dance at 9 a.m. Vocals at 12. More dance. Then monitoring. Practice rooms stayed open late—sometimes until midnight—and Hongjoong? He’d still be there. So, you stayed too.

You didn’t know why at first. Maybe it was guilt—he really had been alone for months. But slowly, it became something else.

The two of you trained together under Eden, side by side. Hongjoong was serious about it. Focused. He had this hunger in him, like he had something to prove. And you? You had no idea what you were doing. But Hongjoong never made you feel behind.

He’d stay after hours to help you polish your choreo. Show you how to project in the vocal room without blowing out your throat. He laughed when you fell, encouraged you when you nailed something.

Sometimes you’d sneak out together during breaks—nothing wild, just grabbing snacks from a convenience store down the block or sitting on the rooftop with hot drinks, legs swinging off the edge as you talked about anything but training. Music, family, stupid memes. The pressure was suffocating some days. But it helped, having someone who understood it exactly the way you did.

The thing about the entertainment industry was that nothing was guaranteed. One minute, you were training to debut as KQ’s first female soloist. The next minute? Everything was gone.

You still remembered the way the company sat you down, the way they told you, in the most business-like tone, that the project was being terminated.

Not postponed. Not restructured. Terminated.

Just like that, years of hard work went up in smoke.

You had been so close. And now, you had nothing.

Hongjoong had found you later that day, plopping down next to you on the floor of the practice room. He didn’t say anything at first, just passed you a can of soda.

Then, after a long silence, “You’re not gonna quit, right?”

You exhaled. “Should I?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But you’re too good to waste this.”

You stared down at the can in your hands. “There’s nothing left, Joong.”

“There will be.”

—You had almost gotten used to it. Almost enjoyed the peace.

KQ had become your second home—the kind that exhausted you, challenged you, and sometimes made you want to scream into a pillow, but still, home. You liked the quiet, the tight-knit feel. Just a few trainees working in the same dusty rooms with the same scuffed mirrors and overworked speakers. You knew the schedule, the staff, the vending machine that always jammed when you needed it most. And for a while, it felt like you were part of something small but steady.

Then came the announcement: new batch of trainees.

The first one was Yunho. You remembered him clearly—tall, bright, loud in the best way. He had a smile that made people relax, even when they were sweating through choreography. He introduced himself like he’d been waiting for this his whole life. Said “nice to meet you” with both hands clasped and eyes shining like it wasn’t just a formality.

Then came a few more. You didn’t memorize all their names at first, but you remembered Hongjoong talking about one of them—Mingi. Apparently, he and Yunho knew each other from before. “He’s got stage presence,” Hongjoong had said. “And confidence. Like, dangerous confidence.”

As the weeks passed, the halls got louder. The lunch table filled up. You finally had other girls to train with. It was weird, having people in the changing rooms again. Having someone to talk to about the hell that was cardio Fridays.

The instructors started asking older trainees to help the new ones settle in. Minji, your dorm partner, got assigned a guy named San—small, scrawny boy, endless energy. She came back from his building tour half in love and half exhausted.

So when your name was called to introduce another new trainee, you had felt a sense of pride. This meant the company recognized your hard work. It meant you were someone they trusted.

But then, Instructor Yang casually mentioned that the new trainee had come from Bighit.

You blinked in surprise. That wasn’t something you heard every day. Unlike KQ, Bighit was an established company, home to one of the biggest groups in the industry. If a trainee had transferred from there, they had to be good.

You felt a flicker of curiosity. Why would someone leave Bighit to come here? What kind of person was talented enough to train under such a powerhouse, yet willing to start over at a much smaller company? You didn’t know, but for the first time in a while, you were genuinely interested in meeting someone new.

That excitement lasted exactly five minutes.

The moment you stepped into Instructor Yang’s office and saw him, everything around you seemed to freeze. Your breath caught in your throat. Your body locked up. Your mind short-circuited.

Kang Yeosang.

You hadn’t seen him in years—not since graduation day, when he had walked across the stage, accepted his diploma, and vanished from your life. No more competing test scores. No more petty fights. No more constant one-upping each other. You had thought you were free.

And yet, here he was. Standing in front of you once again.

Yeosang looked just as shocked as you, his sharp eyes widening the second they landed on your face. His lips parted slightly like he was about to say something, but nothing came out. You doubted he even remembered how to speak in that moment.

“This is Kang Yeosang,” Instructor Yang’s voice broke through the silence, though it felt like a distant echo. “He’s transferring from Bighit to train under KQ. Since you’re one of our most experienced trainees, we’d like you to show him around, introduce him to the others, and help him adjust to the environment.”

Your jaw clenched. You wanted to refuse. You wanted to tell Instructor Yang that someone else—anyone else—could do it. Maybe Hongjoong. Hongjoong was great with new trainees, great at making people feel comfortable. He could handle it.

But then, reality hit you like a slap in the face.

You were close to debuting. So close. The company had been hinting that you'd be debuting as a soloist. You had worked for years to get to this point. If you wanted to secure your spot, you couldn’t risk anything—not even something as simple as rejecting a tour.

So, instead of saying what you truly wanted to say, you swallowed back your pride. You forced your lips into a small, controlled smile, ignoring the way your stomach twisted in protest.

“Understood.”

The moment you stepped out of Instructor Yang’s office with Yeosang trailing behind you, you already regretted everything.

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, like the universe itself was laughing at your suffering. Of all the people KQ could have brought in, of all the trainees you could have been assigned to, it just had to be Kang Yeosang.

You barely glanced at him as you started walking down the hallway, your pace brisk. “I’m only doing this because I have to,” you muttered under your breath. “So keep up.”

Yeosang scoffed lightly behind you. “Didn’t realize you were so excited to see me again.”

You almost stopped in your tracks just to glare at him. Instead, you tightened your jaw and ignored him, leading him toward the first stop of the tour.

“The practice rooms,” you announced flatly, pushing open a door to reveal one of the smaller training spaces. “This is where you’ll be spending most of your time. Vocal training, dance practice, self-evaluations. Pretty much your second home, unless you’re planning on slacking off.”

Yeosang stepped inside, glancing around. “Bighit’s were bigger.”

Your grip on the doorknob tightened. “Well, you’re not in Bighit anymore, are you?”

He smirked at that, clearly enjoying the way your voice tensed. “Guess not.”

You ignored him again and kept walking, not even waiting to see if he followed. If he got lost, oh well.

“This is the main dance studio,” you continued, pushing open another door. This one was a lot larger, with full-length mirrors lining the walls and speakers set up in the corners. You crossed your arms and turned to him. “We use this for group evaluations. If you suck, everyone sees. No pressure.”

Yeosang chuckled, stepping inside. “You still talk too much.”

You shot him a glare. “And you still have an ego the size of a stadium.”

He grinned. “Good to know nothing’s changed.”

You really had to fight the urge to throw your shoe at him. Instead, you turned sharply on your heel and kept moving. “This way.”

The next stop was the vocal room, a small space with a single piano and a setup for recording. “You’ll be doing monthly vocal assessments here,” you explained. “But I doubt you’ll have much of an issue, since you probably think you’re great at everything.”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow. “Why? You worried I’ll score higher than you?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, please. I’ve been training here for years. You’re new. You have catching up to do.”

Yeosang tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “We’ll see.”

God, you wanted to wipe that expression right off his face.

As you continued the tour, you begrudgingly led him through the trainee lounge, the cafeteria, and the small recording booths. Each time, you kept your explanations brief, not because you were trying to be efficient, but because you refused to let him think you cared about helping him.

When you reached the rooftop—one of the only peaceful places in the building—you hesitated.

You almost didn’t want to show it to him. The rooftop was where you and Hongjoong would sometimes escape when things got too overwhelming, when the pressure of training became suffocating. It was your space.

Yeosang noticed your pause. “Something wrong?”

You sighed, pushing open the door. “This is the rooftop. People come here when they need a breather. Not an invitation for you to follow me up here whenever you feel like it.”

He stepped out onto the rooftop, looking around. The city lights stretched far in the distance, the breeze cool against the night sky. He shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at you. “Didn’t think you’d still be here after all these years.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the railing. “Well, I’m not a quitter.”

He hummed, leaning beside you. “Never said you were.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you here, Yeosang?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted out toward the skyline, his usual cocky smirk fading into something unreadable.

“…Bighit wasn’t for me,” he finally said.

You frowned, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. Yeosang never admitted weakness. Never showed anything beyond confidence and arrogance.

For a brief moment, you almost felt… something. Not sympathy, but curiosity.

But then he turned back to you, smirk returning. “Figured I’d come here and make your life hell instead.”

And just like that, whatever momentary softness you felt vanished.

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you pushed off the railing. “You already are hell, Kang. Let’s go. I still have to show you the dorms, and I’d rather get this over with today.”

God help KQ. The war had started again.

taglist : : @yoonbroom @charlie-xo @xionarauwu

#𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #yeosang #kang yeosang series #yeosang series #yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #kang yeosang fluff #kang yeosang angst #yeosang ateez #kang yeosang ateez #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez idol au

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scuderiasundays · 2 years ago

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a promise is a promise

summary: sliding into a stranger's dm's, nostalgia for your first date, and a promise sealed with a kiss + a little insta au at the end 💙

words: 1,071

a/n: my first time writing for mr. leclerc! thank you for the req, @headinthecloudssblog 🫶🏼 tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @formulaforza, @thatsdemko, and @diorleclerc because i trust you all deeply. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses!

Charles loved Adele and he sure wasn't shy about it. While the other racing drivers were hyping themselves up with rock, EDM, or rap, the Monegasque’s AirPods (which he often lost) were blaring “Someone Like You.” You, yourself, wondered how the powerful yet melancholy ballad could put him in the right headspace to drive at breathtaking speeds of up to 362 km/h.

You were nothing short of euphoric when it was announced that she would be extending her exclusive residency in Las Vegas. It would be a dream come true if you could see her live during the weekend of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. However, a bitter reality crept in when you discovered the final show was scheduled for November 4, a mere two weeks before the two of you would arrive stateside. Charles would be racing at Interlagos, while you would be stuck at a clinical genetics conference in St Andrews.

“I was going to get us tickets to thank you for your service in the Great War!” You huffed as you watched Charles tie the laces of his Puma running shoes, visibly let down by the news. All of your friends thought the racing driver had used his F1 connections to get you those coveted floor seats, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. Your boyfriend had spent 18 hours in a virtual queue on one of his few days off, using multiple of his sim racing monitors to secure tickets to the Eras Tour. Arthur had mocked his older brother about how “whipped” he was, joking that he was relieved someone else’s screen time was as horrific as his own.

With a light kiss on your neck, Charles wrapped his arms around you from behind, his voice filled with affection. "It’s like this, ma chérie. I'm going for a run with Andrea," he whispered. As he headed towards the door, his shoulders slumped and his AirPods in, it became clear today's run would be more of a recovery run, a moment for him to recharge physically but more so emotionally.

Determined to bring Charles closer to his idol, you swiftly grabbed your phone from the kitchen island and opened Adele's Instagram profile. Sliding into someone's DMs had never been your style, let alone that of a Grammy-winning artist, but you figured there was nothing to lose.

"Hi, this is Y/N. I know it's unlikely that you'll ever see this, but I'm taking a leap of faith for my boyfriend Charles, who is undoubtedly your biggest fan. Our first date perfectly encapsulates his essence," you began typing, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. "He took me on the most gorgeous twilight yacht ride, accompanied by a meticulously curated playlist of his favorite songs. Upbeat songs like 'A Sky Full of Stars,' 'Pepas,' and 'Feel So Close' filled the air. But then, out of nowhere, a hauntingly beautiful piano melody began to play."

Pausing for a moment, a reminiscent smile graced your face as the memory came roaring back to life. "'Is this Adele?'" you had asked, a glass of rosé in your hand. Charles looked so at peace compared to the tense expression he sometimes wore during race weekends. He had offered you his blue Ferrari sweatshirt to ward off the evening chill and confirmed that it was indeed Adele. Charles shared that he, unlike most, found comfort in what he deemed “depressive music.”

Since that fateful evening, the British songstress' music had become an integral part of your relationship. It served as the soundtrack to your road trips, where you took turns belting ‘Rolling in the Deep.’ It sparked heated debates about whether Adele’s ‘Daydreamer’ or Sade’s ‘By Your Side’ should be your first dance song. It even led to late nights, downing espresso shots just so you could listen to her latest album the second it dropped.

You reached for your phone once again. "That night ended with Charles’ hand resting on my thigh as he drove me home to 'Make You Feel My Love.’ Your music has been the soundtrack to so many of our most intimate moments, and it would mean the world if you could find some time to perform for him," you typed, pouring your heart into the message. You added, "I know this is a long shot, but I..." before eagerly hitting the "Send" button. With a growing sense of accomplishment, you decided to run to the grocery store to pick up some fresh salmon for dinner.

Unable to keep a secret to save your life, you shared what you’d been up to with Charles. "You DM'd the queen? Je t'aime, ma belle, but I highly doubt she'll reply," he playfully teased, rolling his eyes as he wiped the dish you had just handed him.

"What if she does?" you retorted, a hint of hope in your voice. "You know how I treasure you so much I don’t even trust myself to take you on a hot lap? We’ll do it in Las Vegas if and only if Adele responds." His devilish Leclerc wink accompanied the mischievous remark, leaving you to wonder how this crazy turn of events would unfold.

Weeks passed, and with each passing day, the likelihood of a reply dwindled. Charles was away in Qatar when the doorbell unexpectedly rang. A courier stood before you, holding a grand bouquet of white roses along with a message card. Assuming it was from him, your hands trembled as you read the sign-off on the ivory white card. There it was, unmistakably etched in the most elegant script. Five letters. Adele.

You snatched the card eagerly and read it over countless times, overcome with disbelief. It turned out that Adele's devoted fan base had made her very much aware of Charles' fanboying. She expressed her delight and confirmed that she would be more than happy to sing a few songs for you over dinner so long as she could score some “cool mom points” and bring her son Angelo to the race.

Your hands trembled with sheer excitement as you shared the spectacular news with Charles. He blamed his nonexistent allergies as tears welled up in his eyes, but you saw right through his lies.

"So, you'll be taking me on that hot lap, Leclerc?" you grinned, blissed out seeing him so happy. "Bah oui, une promesse est une promesse," he replied, sealing his vow with a well-earned kiss.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 61,616 others

yourusername: weekends with adele (and charles) 🎰🍸❤️

fan1: “it’s true that, after a bad day, if you listen to that, you cry. you don’t feel any better. but i like it. i like the mood of depressive music.” - chuck leclerc

charles_leclerc: i have the best girlfriend in the world! tu est simplement la meilleure ❤️

adele: she’s one of a kind! thank you for letting me bear witness to your love x

yourusername: you, sir, are the love of my life. thanks for tolerating my impulsivity!

fan2: i need a charles and adele collab and i need it NOW 😤

joris_trouche: he’ll never shut up about this

charles_leclerc: prepare to be sick of me! wait, you and @andferrari007 already are 🫣

scuderiaferrari: c² music challenge but adele songs only?

carlossainz55: why play when i don’t even stand a chance 🤨

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc edit #charles leclerc #f1 x you #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc drabble

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sunjaesol · 6 months ago

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soljae | one shot, high school, one-sided pining | prompt: crush

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"Im Sol."

Sunjae strode towards the girl that stood a couple meters in front of him. His expression schooled into a cool and even look, he kept his eyes trained on the top of her head—even when she turned around and faced him.

He had no issue with eye contact… just with her, specifically.

"Sunjae-ah," she responded, mildly surprised.

A colourful knit sweater was thrown over her uniform, a little bulky and awkward as it clung to the edges of her blazer. The charms hanging on her backpack jingled when she turned around. Like most girls did, her fringe was still stuck in a little, pink roller.

She blinked, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, she asked: "What's up?"

Yeah, what was up with him? He never approached her in the mornings. He usually waited until the afternoon, sometime after lunch, when he'd scrounged up enough courage to make an innocuous comment or ask a question. Sol kindly offered a response each time, even though he knew he was acting a bit weird. That was a thing he liked about her, he supposed; Im Sol didn't exclude people, even if said people acted aloof like him.

"I didn't know you also took the early bus," he found himself saying. It came out accusatory. Sunjae withheld a grimace. Why couldn't he just act normal around her?

Sol's brows raised. "Oh… um… yeah. The bake sale is today and me and my friends want to make sure that Taes—I mean, the students from our year get the best treats."

Sunjae kept staring at her. Tae-who? Was it Taesan? Taeyong? Taesung? His train of thought paused. If she liked Kim Taesung, he was going to drown himself in the pool this evening.

He bit his tongue. "Cool." Without another word, he continued his walk to the bus stop and quietly prayed that Sol would match his pace.

She did.

"Do you like desserts?" she asked conversationally.

He glanced at her from his peripheral vision. "Not really."

"Oh." Her lips pursed. "I guess that makes sense, with your dad's restaurant and all."

He hummed and kept his eyes on the sidewalk. He had to focus on not smiling, not grinning, not showing how much effect she had on him. Im Sol didn't need to know his heart had fallen to his feet the moment he laid eyes on her in the rain three full moons ago. Sunjae felt rather indifferent about movies, but he had a rental card from her mom's video store anyway. He liked ballads, but she listened to Girls' Generation so now he listened to Girls' Generation.

They arrived at the bus stop and waited with the other students on their ride. From the corner of his eye, he watched Sol take out her MP3-player and earphones from the front pocket of her backpack.

Stuffing his hands in his trousers, he uttered, "What're you listening to?"

"Huh?" Her hands stilled. "Oh. Um." She looked down at her MP3-player. "'Beginning' by Girls' Generation."

Before he could respond, she reached up, placed one earphone in his ear, and then she pressed play. Sunjae was frozen in shock at her bold move that he barely registered the electric guitar leading in the song.

She grinned. "My favourite is Yoona!"

Sunjae dumbly nodded. "Sure."

The bus rolled around the corner, forcing Sunjae to hand back the earphones. Their fingers brushed when he did, which only quickened the beat of his heart by threefold. In that briefest of moment, he felt the softness of her index finger and thumb.

Sunjae was going a bit crazy.

With the bus coming to a halt and opening its doors, that should indicate the end of their conversation (and the end of Sunjae's life, really, because a heart shouldn't be beating this fast), but something entirely different happened instead.

Sol offered him the space next to her on a two-seater.

Had Inhyuk been there, he would remind Sunjae to keep his cool and not fall to his knees in devotion to a girl he spoke all of ten words to, but Inhyuk wasn't here, so it took Sunjae's own willpower not to do all of the aforementioned right then and there.

And so, he nodded and sat next to Sol. He still didn't look her in the eye.

Sol kept quiet after that, too.

Turning his head fully away from her, a smile that had been simmering right under his cool frown broke to the surface, stretching his skin and aching his cheeks. A smile so dazzling the person at the other side of the aisle was likely confused. A thrill ran from the top of his head down to his gut. He was sitting next to Sol. He was sitting next to Sol!

For that twenty minute bus ride, Sunjae's mind dismissed all negative thoughts; swim practice, Kim Taesung's existence, his failing history grade. There was no evil in the universe when Sol's arm occasionally brushed his. If he could, he would turn back time and relive this singular moment over and over again.

He had it bad. He had it really, really bad for Im Sol.

The bus rolled into its drop-off lane at the school. All the students got off the bus and Sunjae made a point not to immediately run off to his friends. Looking over his shoulder, he watched Sol descend the steps of the bus.

For a split second, their eyes met.

Sol smiled. "See you around, Sunjae-ah!"

And then she ran off. Sunjae watched her go. For months, he knew, he would think about this. Rubbing a hand against his sternum, he collected his thoughts and looked around for Inhyuk.

Because if anyone knew who Sol was making baked goods for, it was his nosy gossip of a best friend.

#lovely runner #lovely runner fanfiction #im sol #ryu sunjae #soljae #my work

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matchpointfaist · 16 days ago

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and if you need my love…. 😽

modern billy dunne x popstar! reader

tw not much yet! just the usual billy drinking smoking etc! allusions to smut but no actual smut

billy dunne hated pop music, hated the very nature of it, the way his manager pushed the band to lean more into their pop side in order to sell more albums. he’d worked his ass off to get where he was, long nights in his mom’s garage and perched in front of his computer mixing recordings, emailing promoters, anything to get this thing off the ground. you, on the other hand? you seemed to appear overnight, going from a minor celebrity to a global sensation, your debut album knocking the six right down the charts. what he hated even more than your success, or the lack of his own, was the way he couldn’t stop listening to your album. he wanted to say it was bullshit, that you weren’t talented, but he couldn’t even bring himself to lie. he wouldn’t seek it out-couldn’t stoop to that level- but when it inevitably came on, he’d never skip it, never turn it off. you had the alluring, pop princess act down to a science, he’d give you that. you had the perfect mix of ballads and upbeat, borderline explicit, songs. your image was polished, always pristine and dressed perfectly, always bright eyed and smiling. it drove him fucking crazy.

when you did some stupid, short form interview about your tour essentials, his name had come up. his manager practically broke down the door to his tour bus, demanding he watch the video. so he found himself, begrudgingly, searching up your name, clicking on the most recent pop-up. and there you were, in all your glimmering glory, telling the interviewer all about how you couldn’t live without your glossier lip balm or your favorite drink-sprite, also billy’s go to- or how you, most of all, couldn’t go a day without streaming aurora. “i listen to it when i’m getting ready, and let me down easy is on my pre-show playlist,” you told the camera, like you were dishing out some insider secret, “billy dunne is a total genius, i’d love to meet the entire band one day,” you continued on, but he had stopped listening, his ears buzzing. you thought he was a genius? you wanted to meet him? it pissed him off even more, the way he reacted to it, like some sort of awestruck fan. he was billy fucking dunne, what did he care if some popstar even knew he existed?

"we have to set something up," his manager advised, "i'll get in touch with her team and see what we can come up with, maybe a surprise at her show? or we could just start slow, have her meet with the band?" "absolutely not," he didn't even pause to think about it, "i have no interest in meeting her," "billy, come on," his manager shook his head, sighing, "don't be a kid about this. i'll send you an email when it's arranged," the finality of it all irritated him, got deep under his skin, but he tried his hardest to ignore it. maybe it would never even happen, he told himself, maybe you'd be too busy.

to his displeasure, two weeks later he was backstage at one of your shows, without the comfort of his band to keep him company. all alone, stuck listening to the hundreds of fans screaming for you, singing along to your songs like the gospel. he had just started to convince himself he wasn’t bothered, too zoned out to notice the music had ceased, when you bounded backstage, a vision in glittering pink platforms and a matching bodysuit. “oh, you came!” your voice startled him into action. he shot up out of his seat, forcing a smile onto his face, forcing his eyes not to linger on your body. “wouldn’t have missed it, i was flattered to receive the invite,” he extended a hand for you to shake, which you promptly swatted away, moving it to instead hug him, pressed against him like you’d known him for ages. “i’m such a huge fan,” you told him, voice slightly muffled by his shirt, “seriously, aurora is totally genius. did you write it yourself?” “uh, yes, i did,” his voice vibrated against your cheek as he spoke, and you pulled away after a moment, if nothing else than to watch him speak, “i wrote it over the summer after a pretty bad breakup,” “i’m sorry to hear that,” you smiled sympathetically, “at least you got a good album out of it,” “spoken like a true artist,” he joked, “that’s exactly what i thought,” “i need to go get changed and get out of the venue, but wait for me, kay? id love to chat more!” “yeah, alright,” he nodded, unsure why he was agreeing, “i’ll be here,”

you returned half an hour later, your stage makeup toned down, dressed in a sweatshirt and leggings, looking much less popstar and much more girl next door. “do you wanna grab a bite?” you asked, looking hopeful and sweet, “we can go out the back and take one of my cars so no one recognizes us,” “sure,” he found himself agreeing again, like you had some sort of spell over him, “you can pick the place, im fine with whatever,” he half expected you to take him someplace fancy, but your driver pulled into tue back lot of a dimly lit burger spot, all smiles as you led him inside. “i always come here when i’m in the city,” you explain as the two of you slide into a crinkly booth, “they have the best fries, i swear, they put this seasoning stuff on them and they’re just to die for,” “yeah?” he laughed, surprised by your enthusiasm about something so simple-maybe you weren’t as airhead as he thought? “i’ll just get whatever you recommend, since you’re the expert,” he shrugged, flipping through the menu briefly. you told the server you’d take a basket of fries and two strawberry shakes, and as you thanked her, billy was struck again by how down to earth you seemed. “so!” you leaned on your elbows, looking at him expectantly, “tell me everything! how’d the six get started?”

three hours later and the shakes were gone, the fry basket empty, and the diner was closing up around you. you talked about everything; how he started the band, how you got discovered, the writing process, your mutual obstacles with management. you had an air about you that he rarely found with other celebrities, like you’d just happened upon all this, like it was fun, not some hyper serious career. you were, annoyingly, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. he found himself more and more attracted to you with each joke or laugh, each new facet of your personality he discovered through the night. you insisted on paying for dinner, leaving an insanely generous tip and thanking the staff before ducking out the back, back to your car.

“i had fun,” you smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “maybe we could meet up again while we’re both around?” “yeah, i’d like that,” he nodded, “we’ve got a show next week, i can send you a pass if you’d want to come?” “i’d love that!” you practically squealed with excitement, “thank you, that’s so sweet of you,” “least i could do to return the favor,” he shrugged, smiling, “hopefully we’ll live up to the hype,” “oh, i’m sure you will,” there was a pleasant silence for the rest of the drive until you pulled up outside of his hotel, and he nearly hesitated to get out, comfortable in your company. “so i’ll see you next week, then?” he gave you a half smile, smoothing out his shirt to busy his hands. jesus, what was he doing? he was billy dunne, not some lovesick teenager. “yeah, next week,” you nodded, smiling brightly, “thank you again for meeting me, i had such a good night,” “oh, the pleasures all mine,” he waved a dismissive hand, “really, you’re great,”

the silence was thick, heavy with stolen glances and blushed cheeks as his hand hovered over the door handle. “here, i can walk you to the door,” you offered, already unbuckling. “no, it’s okay, i can-“ “i want to,” you grinned, hopping out of the suv, waiting patiently for him to join you. he sighed, getting out and following you, “you’re pushy, aren’t you?” “mm, i like to think i’m just goal oriented,” you teased, “this hotels nice,” “it’s alright,” he shrugged, eyes lingering on your lips for a beat, “nor the nicest in the city,” “it’s cozy, though,” you countered, “much cozier than the ones downtown,” “maybe so,” he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you now, “i should head inside, i’d hate for you to catch a cold out here,” “yeah, alright,” you sighed softly, “goodnight, billy,” you turned on your heel, and his body acted before his brain, his hand on your elbow pulling you back to him, kissing you before he even hesitated to think if it was too fast. you made a small, surprised sound before kissing him back, standing on your tiptoes to wind your arms around his shoulders. he forced himself to pull away after a moment, already imagining what other sounds he could pull from you, how your like might feel somewhere else- god, he had to focus. “goodnight,” he smiled, nearly breathless, “i’ll see you soon,” “i’m looking forward to it,” you giggled, unwinding yourself from around him, turning for the car again, “night, rockstar,”

he was, as it turns out, an awestruck fan when it came to you. when he got in bed that night, he scrolled through countless interview clips, concert videos and photos of you with fans, unable to stop himself from digging deeper. he felt guilty, just slightly, when he stumbled upon a photo of you in a particularly revealing halloween costume for a show last year, his eyes tracing over every inch of you that he could see. 20 minutes later, when he’d come to the thought of your lips around his cock, he thought he’d probably taken it too far. but then he remembered the enthusiasm you’d had when he kissed you, and he thought maybe, just this once, his obsession could be returned. you were both artists, after all. who better to love until it drove you insane?

#billy dunne x you #billy dunne fic #billy dunne smut #billy dunne #billy dunne djats #djats billy #djats fic #djats x reader #billy dunne x popstar! reader

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saedii-gilwraeth-simp · 10 months ago

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Okay I'm back in my feels about tydii, so here have my list of headcannons that will never die;

Saedii's hair is uncontrollable when it's not braided, bc 7 braids that don't look stringy = thicc af hair and from experience, that shit is a nightmare regardless of texture. Tyler has made the mistake of undoing Saedii's hair for her before bed and waking up with both of them tangled in it many times.

Tyler likes older music and by that I mean he is 100% a swiftie. Saedii once threatens to break up with him bc if she has to hear the chorus of Shake it Off through their mind bond one more time while he's a galaxy away she's going to punch someone in the face (possibly herself).

Saedii's a biter and vastly enjoys watching Tyler try to look all official in his AL uniform with his neck covered in bruises. Even better if she knows he has to teach younger cadets who are all short enough to see them very clearly.

Tyler gets her back by being as obviously and publicly in love with her as he can. He will call her every ridiculous pet name that he can think of and holds her hand as much as possible. Saedii claims to hate it but no one misses that she's always the slightest bit more purple in the ears when he does it.

Saedii has the ship log footage of Tyler killing the drakkon saved on her personal uni. No one is really sure why. Except for Tyler, who knows exactly why she has it (bc long distance is a bitch and it gets her going lol)

Tyler keeps a list on his uni of all of the things he likes about Saedii. He sends her one every day if they have to be long distance. Saedii's not one for super open affection, but in return she sends him photos of things that made her think of him. They're not all winners (she sent him a photo of the Great Ultrasaur after they'd had a particularly nasty fight) but the good ones make up for the bad ones (and the one she once sent him of her in her favourite bra more than made up for plenty of bad ones).

Saedii sings their kids Syldrathi lullabies, but from memory, which means Tyler is unsure if they're actually lullabies or softened versions of some weird Syldrathi death metal (some of them are but Saedii won't tell him that). Ty's not much better, he goes between rock ballads and whatever hyperpop song Scar stuck in his head last. And Taylor Swift, because he's on a mission to get his kids to annoy their mother with it.

Tyler has pretty regular nightmares after all the shit he's seen and doesn't like to talk about it with the others because he wants everyone to think he's fine. Saedii always knows and will call him in the early hours of his day so he can get everything out of his system before he has to appear all perfect.

Saedii's lieutenants are more scared of her after she gets a Be'shmai than they were before. None of them are really sure what about it makes her seem scarier, but she is. And don't even get them started on how terrifying she was when pregnant (Tyler's not sure what they're on about, according to him, she was basically a teddy bear while pregnant).

The pair of them are complete horndogs. It's actually so stupid how often they get caught doing stuff in places they shouldn't be. Scarlett is fully ready to bleach her eyeballs just so she never has to walk in on them again.

They adopt many many animals over the years they're together. A couple were pets for their kids (Tyler vetoed a drakkon for either of them, so Lae had a snake and Kal had a husky) but after the kids moved out, Saedii got a couple of drakkon and Tyler got a couple of dogs. They also have a cat, but neither are really sure how, the cat just appeared one day.

Saedii is the favourite grandmother of all of her grandkids and she's definitely not emotional and totally normal about it. To be fair, Kal and Shae's kids don't have another option, but that's cancelled out by the fact that Lae and Flora's kids have about 6 other grandmothers.

Tyler gets so hot-and-bothered when Saedii's being bossy. And he plays it off for the most part, but if she asks he'll happily admit to her that she could step on him and he wouldn't complain. Saedii also gets hot-and-bothered when Tyler's being bossy. But only when he's bossy to other people.

Anyway, add more if you want

#aurora cycle #saedii gilwraeth #tyler jones

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verdemoun · 11 months ago

Note

for once I’m not asking for angst 🤞 what kind of music would the modern au characters like? Like genres and bands :)

completely biased because i listen exclusively to musicals and late 00s teenage angst black parade is forever BUT

arthur: country music. including white girl country-pop music. can be caught doing little shuffle steps as he discreetly tries to dance along to a song stuck in his head while mumbling the lyrics under his breath. has main character moments smoking outside at night listening to need you now by lady a.

lenny: really into remixes. likes the extra pep it puts in his step, will accidentally walk to the beat and look like a dork. surprising amount of rock. but anything that's super lyrical, songs that tell a story, he will add to his playlist. duets what you own from rent with sean on karaoke nights.

sean: could not name a single band or genre he listens to because it's just anything with a high enough bpm to make his brain buzz. honorable mention to the cranberries and flogging molly but will do a fully choreographed routine to jailhouse rock without a single drink in his system.

hosea+bessie: any old timey easy listening ballads, occasional swing. hosea can't sing to save his life bless him but will still sing the really cheesy romantic lines to bessie as they slow dance in the living room after a few glasses of wine they're so in love please. anything that would be a first dance song at a wedding they have in their playlist

dutch: opera and orchestra forever. exact same music he listened to at camp will go on about kids these days and the hippity hop they dare call music. it takes him exactly 3 seconds after being introduced to cds and digital downloads to become a vinyl purist even complains about record players over gramophone.

annabelle+susan: annabelle is probably the most adapted to modern era she will listen to anything radio popular and susan is the same way inclined thanks to her job at at the local pub. but they both particularly enjoy bonnie tyler, kate bush and a sneaky bit of abba. think mamma mia is a cinematic masterpiece.

molly: mitski. boygenius. phoebe bridgers. aurora. any indie female lead who sings about broken hearts/betrayal/angry break up songs. listens to a suspicious amount of queer artists too.

kieran: the definition of 'i'll just be here listening to my tunes' only for the speakers to immediately cut to screamo. occasionally they can hear the bass through his headphones and gently remind him to turn it down to protect his hearing. despite this he will always get the mlp theme song stuck in arthur's head at the worst times.

javier: disgusted that disco was dead by the time he timewarped. just wants to boogie to that 70s funky beats. definitely has a playlist dedicated to john marston that is just any song with a reference to wolves. thinks he's hilarious. is the reason john can identity hungry like the wolf within two seconds of it starting (he walks out) (javier learned it on guitar. and both in english and spanish)

jack+isaac: mcr, panic, fallout boy. they will forever be on that angsty teenage bullshit. isaac may have designed them fabulous killjoy ocs and jack proceeded to write a 100k word self-insert fanfic about them. and they have matching mcr lyric tattoos. and mutually agree the kids from yesterday was actually written about them. play that g note and they both collapse with sorrow.

#rdr2 timewarp au #rdr2 modern au #i am not going to tag them all actually

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misc-obeyme · 8 months ago

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unchained - chapter fifteen

masterpost read the chapter on ao3

recommended music: Don't Go Dark by DREAMERS word count: 2799

GN!MC x Arsenios [demon OC] a/n: I consider this to be the most cringe of chapters because of the lyrics that I made up. I described the song as well as I could, too, but it isn't really important as long as the message of it is clear. Anyway, Arrie's on his way to fuck some shit up at the end though lol. Warnings: none

Every time you saw Arsenios's empty seat in the classroom at RAD, your gut twisted as you remembered the way his door closed with such finality. You were convinced it was a temporary situation, that he was only trying to keep you away for your own safety. You weren't sure what he was doing now. You wanted to be there when he confronted Caligo, but you hadn't been able to convince him that you could handle it.

So when you saw a flyer on the bulletin board for a show by Angel's Temptation, you were surprised. The band wouldn't play without Arsenios. You looked around the hallway and quickly tore the flyer off the board. The band was scheduled to play at a small local venue that evening. Was Arsenios still working while he was trying to lure the reaper to him? Or was the band somehow playing without him?

You stuffed the flyer in your bag, where it stayed crumpled until after your student council duties. When everyone else had gone home, you waited until it was almost time for the concert. Then you took out the flyer and headed to the address printed on it.

You tried to tell yourself that you were only going for the music. You were a fan of the band now, it was only normal for you to support them by showing up. It was definitely not because you were desperate for a glimpse of him. Not at all because you were worried about the state he had been in when you saw him last.

You knew you couldn't go with any of the others. Arsenios would spot you with any of them instantly. Even so, you also knew that he had an uncanny knack of knowing whenever you were in the same room with him.

The venue was a small bar with a tiny stage lit by a set of dim lights. You lingered at the back, behind the crowd and against the wall. There were plenty of demons in attendance. Maybe you would be unnoticed.

You first saw the other band members, easily bantering with each other as they did their sound check. And then you saw Arsenios. His usual calm and confident demeanor had a heaviness to it that you didn't like.

You could see the dark circles of the tattoos on his hands. They were working on setting up a mic, but you thought about the way he clenched them when he was feeling especially serious or anxious. You knew just enough to understand what that meant. The story of how they had been mangled and then healed.

The set was a mixture of rock songs and slower ballads. It was more intense than the acoustic set they had played at Crimson Street, but quieter than the grand theatrical performances they put on at The Fall.

Arsenios had stuck to the electric guitar the whole time, singing with his usual deep baritone. You couldn't know if he was aware of your presence. His eyes scanned the crowd, but didn't focus on any one spot in particular. He was just as present as he normally was, clearly putting his soul into his performance.

After several songs, there was a brief pause. You watched as Arsenios seemed to be arguing with Chymion and Lael. Even Liviana left her drums to join them and say a few words.

Whatever Liviana had said, Arsenios calmed down. He waved at them, clearly exasperated, but not willing to argue further.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight illuminated a piano that you hadn't noticed at the back of the stage. Arsenios sat down at the piano and began to play without first introducing the song.

It began simply, a soft repetition of chords and a small scale in the melody.

And then Arsenios began to sing.

The piano became even simpler, reverting back to only chords as his voice soared over them, delicate and melancholy.

You listened to the first and second verses, enraptured. From the first lines of the lyrics, you knew they were about you. The reality of this only vaguely registered as a squeezing in your heart.

in the darkness I could hear you your heartbeat in my song

You held your breath as the accompaniment became a little more rapid and Arsenios's voice lifted into the chorus. It was like every note was full of something that only you could see. It was as though everyone else had disappeared. It was as though you were in the dark dance hall again, just the two of you. He was singing this song to you.

these hands are bloodstained but now I am unchained

The chords slowed down again for the third verse and you nearly jumped when you heard him sing words that you had spoken to him not that long ago. In the Devildom Botanical Garden, when he had finally told you more than he ever had about his past.

you said you don't care what I've done or what I've had to do

The chorus came in again and your mind was whirling. You weren't sure what this meant. This song he had written about you. What was he trying to say? It seemed like you should know, like it should be obvious. But there was so much pain in it still. Like he was desperate, like he didn't know what to do with his own feelings.

A brief musical interlude that involved some unexpected scales and fingerwork caught your attention as it descended into the loud and dramatic chords of the bridge.

I used to sing about heartache now all I can sing about is you

You listened to the chorus as he went through it twice more. But you were only barely hearing it. The way he varied the melody as he let the chords and his voice become loud before everything softened in a diminuendo. The last chorus was quiet, almost pleading. The final chord, a single scale, until all that was left was the distant ringing of the D minor in the bass clef and a single D in the treble. The echo that it seemed to produce as he let the sustain pedal carry the sound. The way it cut off abruptly as he sat back.

It was too much, wasn't it? Was this song really about you?

You wanted to know about Arsenios's past. You wanted to know what had happened to him and why he was still suffering from those events now.

But with this song, he had given you something else. You remembered two lines from the third verse.

but I would die a thousand times just to end up here with you

And suddenly everything made sense. This song was a confession. When you saw Arsenios at his apartment, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. He could barely look at you. And then he told you to stay away.

Arsenios was in love with you. And that was more frightening to him than any reaper could ever hope to be.

Your gut twisted because the truth of this hit you hard. The band began to play a new song, but you didn't hear it. You turned abruptly and nearly ran out of the venue.

As you rushed down the street, making your way back to the House of Lamentation blindly, your mind was focused on only one thing.

Did Arsenios know you were there? Did he know you were listening?

You still hadn't been able to tell. But he always knew when you listened to him at RAD. Why would this setting be any different?

If he had known, then he had performed that song on purpose. Was this his way of telling you how he felt? Was it because he couldn't actually say it to you directly?

And even if all of that was true, even if this was a real confession of love, did it matter?

Arsenios had told you it would be better for you to stay apart. He said it was too dangerous. He might love you, but did he trust you?

That night, Arsenios lay sprawled on his back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights, only trudged up the stairs of the loft and collapsed fully clothed on the blankets.

Of course Arsenios knew you were there. He could sense you the moment you walked into that small venue. You didn't come forward, only stayed against the back wall, but he didn't need you close to hear you.

Arsenios had memorized the rhythm of your heartbeat and the way it synced up with your breathing. He recognized the beat in your tread, every footstep, every motion. He could sense the song that accompanied you no matter where you went.

It was something he first came to know at RAD, simply because your humanity made it stand out among the cacophony of so many demons. Now it was like you were a radio turned to full volume. Any time you were anywhere near him, your sounds flooded his senses.

He hadn't had any intention of playing the song he wrote about you. But soon enough, Chymion had spotted you in the crowd and informed Lael and Liviana of your presence. Then it was three against one in the argument about whether or not he should play your song. He had lost.

Arsenios knew that was a lie. He could have argued harder.

But for some reason, he wanted you to hear it. He needed you to. His confession, though full of fear and uncertainty, was holding the only hope of healing he'd had in centuries.

And it might end up being the last thing he ever sang to you.

It wasn't that Arsenios believed he couldn't find a way to defeat Caligo if it came down to a fight. It was more that Arsenios knew he would sacrifice his life for you if he had to. You were never supposed to be part of this situation. The only reason Caligo was targeting you was because of him and your closeness to him.

Arsenios felt that the only way to keep you safe was to bring this situation to an end once and for all. He had thought it was over long ago, but now that it was back he wasn't going to just wait around. He wasn't going to put it off until it was too late to protect you.

Arsenios sighed and closed his eyes.

Lucifer had been right.

If you were at all competent-

If he was at all competent, none of this would even be happening.

If he hadn't trusted Caligo to begin with, all those years ago, this wouldn't be happening now.

Abby chose that moment to jump up onto the bed, landing directly on Arsenios's stomach.

"Oof!" He flung his hands out to catch her, sitting up with her in his lap.

"All right, I get it," he said to her. "I'll stop feeling sorry for myself, okay?"

Abby purred and pushed her head into his hand.

"I know what I have to do," he said. "I've never met anyone like MC, Abby. Their sound is so intimately human, so much happening and yet all working together perfectly. It's soothing. It… merges somehow with that hole in my heart. I'll do anything to keep them safe."

Abby meowed.

Arsenios felt the heaviness of guilt press down on him. There was one important detail about reapers that he simply hadn't told you. He was sure if you knew, you would be more insistent about accompanying him. It was only his good luck that kept you from finding out from someone else. He wasn't sure how long that luck would hold out. But he only needed one more day.

Arsenios knew it would be a simple matter to get to Caligo. He was ready and tomorrow, he would go find Barbatos.

Arsenios picked up Little D No 2 who had been scampering conveniently through the gardens at the Demon Lord's Castle. He kicked his little legs and gnashed his teeth, clearly unhappy to have been caught.

"Hey," Arsenios said. "Calm down, it's just me."

No 2 stopped mid-thrash and looked at Arsenios for a moment before smiling. "Arrie!"

"Yeah," Arsenios said. "Can you get Barbatos for me? I don't want anyone else in the castle to know that I've talked to him."

No 2 kicked his feet slightly. "You mean you don't want Lord Diavolo to know!"

Arsenios huffed. "Yeah, you got me."

"Is it 'cause he'll tell Lucifer?" No 2 asked.

"Stop asking questions and go get Barbatos, please," Arsenios said.

"Okay!" No 2 exclaimed.

Arsenios put him back down and watched him scramble off into the castle.

Moments later, Barbatos came out where Little D No 2 had gone in. He saw Arsenios instantly.

"Sorry," Arsenios said when Barbatos stopped beside him. "But can you send me to the Underworld? You know where I need to go. I don't have time to walk there myself."

Barbatos regarded Arsenios for a long moment. This wasn't unusual, necessarily, but there was a tension in the air. Arsenios folded his arms and waited.

"Is it wise for you to go alone?" Barbatos asked.

Arsenios frowned. "This is my problem. And I'm going to take care of it."

Barbatos actually chuckled, which made Arsenios glare at him. "How exactly do you plan on taking care of a reaper?"

"You think I can't handle it?" Arsenios asked.

Barbatos shook his head. "I simply wish for you to consider what you will do once you find him."

Arsenios paused. He had considered it, of course. "I'm… going to talk to him."

The fondness in Barbatos's eyes was both endearing and infuriating. "Do you think he will listen?"

Arsenios huffed. "Maybe not, but it isn't like I have a choice. Look, you can't talk me out of this. If you don't help me get there, I'll walk instead. I'm going to talk to him, try to get my grimoire back, try to end this peacefully. This has gone on too long and I'm not about to put MC's life in any more danger."

"And what about your life, Arsenios?" Barbatos asked.

"What's my life compared to MC's?" Arsenios shot back. He knew he was getting worked up. He took a breath in an attempt to calm himself.

Barbatos shook his head. "This is exactly why I am hesitant to send you."

Arsenios sighed. "Listen, Barb. You know me. I thought I was broken beyond repair. I didn't know I was searching until I found them. I don't plan to die tonight, but if I sacrifice my life to protect them then I'll be doing it knowing I'm saving the one thing that matters to me."

Barbatos closed his eyes in a long suffering expression. "Have you truly found what you think you have, I wonder? Or do you perhaps still fail to understand exactly what it is you have always been seeking?"

"Please, Barb, I don't have time for your all powerful demon riddles," Arsenios said.

Barbatos considered him for a moment. "Very well. I can see that there is nothing I can say to dissuade you. I will open the portal for you."

Arsenios looked suspiciously at this sudden reversal. "Is that right?"

Barbatos chuckled. "Have you changed your mind after all?"

Arsenios knew he didn't have the luxury to question it. "No. Send me, please."

Barbatos opened a portal. Just before Arsenios stepped through it, he said, "Please be careful."

Arsenios picked up his guitar, which he had left on a nearby bench, and stepped through the portal. He found himself in the Underworld - a dark and ominous corner of it, somewhat near to the reaper prison. Barbatos had known that Arsenios would need to be at a crossroads and that was exactly where he now found himself. The jagged dirt paths that connected beneath his feet were in the center of a forest full of black and leafless trees.

It was dark and empty. The sky was grey. Arsenios strummed a chord on his guitar and it fell dully into the air around him. He didn't let that stop him. He played another chord, letting his fingers get used to the feel of the strings in this strange place. Soon he began some elaborate finger work, soft but complicated. The notes whispered around him like hushed prayers.

Arsenios played the guitar this way for hours. He never stopped, never once faltered. And finally he was rewarded with a flash of silver, letting him know he had finally succeeded. The reaper he sought was not far off, his yellow eyes gleaming from the depths of the trees.

masterpost | chapter fourteen | chapter sixteen [coming soon]

taglist: @avalordream @lonely-north-star @expressionless-fr @featheredcrowbones @pumpkinsareamazing

@szired @bagofwetmice @ashley675901

as always, please comment or dm me if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me oc #obey me oc x reader #obey me oc x mc #x reader #unchained #misc writes

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