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meazalykov · 2 days ago

Text

the past does not exist

lena oberdorf x interviewer!reader

summary: after a year, the both of you came to accept that you cannot change the past.

it was a job you loved—interviewing the best and brightest in women’s football, seeing the beauty and heartbreak of the sport that brought you so much love.. love for someone who never made it professionally.

you had a thing for drawing out stories no one else could, peeling back the layers of the players' lives beyond the pitch.

it wasn’t just about asking the right questions; it was about knowing how to listen, being caring, and respect. through this job, you were able to make friends with many of the footballers.

you weren't a gossip interviewer, you knew what to post and when to keep your mouth closed and mind your business. mainly sticking to growth stories, interviews about games itself, and tactical commentary. the players respected you as much as you respected them.

when you stayed in wolfsburg during the 2023 champions league final, the town seemed excited for the team that shined throughout the season. the final was in eindhoven, but wolfsburg fans decked out in green and white as they prepared to cheer on their team against barcelona in the dutch city.

for you, it was another opportunity to dig deeper into the lives of players, and the wolfsburg squad was nothing short of intriguing. to you, lena oberdorf stood out among them. she is a tough midfielder whose intensity on the pitch was matched only by her charm off it.

your first interview with lena was.. interesting to say the least. she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed casually, a mischievous glint in her eye as she teased you about the list of questions you had prepared.

“come on, these can’t be all you’ve got!! be nosey for once,” she’d said, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

you laughed, adjusting your recorder on the table.

“trust me, oberdorf, i’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“good,” she said, leaning forward slightly.

“i wouldn’t want this to be boring.”

what followed was a conversation that felt less like an interview and more like a sparring match. she was sharp, witty, and unapologetically confident. you couldn’t help but be drawn to her energy. over the next few days, lena sought you out whenever she could—whether it was a casual chat after training or a quiet drink in the team’s hotel bar.

it was there, amid the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, that your connection deepened.

one night, as the team celebrated their victory in the semifinals, lena pulled you aside. her usually playful demeanor was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

“y/n.. i don’t know what it is about you,” she admitted, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

“but i can’t stop thinking about you. you’re so beautiful, and i can’t stop hearing your voice. is that weird to say? i am not sure, but please tell me that this is not one sided..”

it didn’t take long for your professional boundaries to blur. you spent nights tangled in lena’s sheets, stolen moments in hotel rooms where the world outside ceased to exist.

it wasn’t love, not at all, but it was something raw and undeniable.

wolfsburg lost the champions league final, which sucked horribly. that means that you had your next job to do– the 2023 women's world cup. you were in australia, assigned to be following the uswnt as they sought to defend their title.

that means that you couldn’t be with lena or germany. it sucked, but you and lena kept contact. until, germany’s shocking elimination in the group stage. it was a blow to lena and her teammates.

when you texted her to check in, she didn’t respond. calls went unanswered, messages left on read.

you understood that lena was hurting. the weight of expectations, the sting of disappointment, it was a lot for anyone to bear. however, her silence cut deep. you wanted to be there for her, to comfort her, but your job demanded your attention elsewhere.

as much as it pained you, you told yourself to let it go. lena owed you nothing. you weren’t hers, and she wasn’t yours.

still, it hurt.

months passed, and you threw yourself into your work. you interviewed aitana bonmati after her world cup final heroics, sat down with leah williamson to talk about england’s near chance at winning it all, and made a documentary on the rise of young stars like lauren james, salma paralluelo, and trinity rodman.

lena became a ghost in your life—a memory you tried not to revisit, though it lingered at the edges of your thoughts.

then, over a year later, the news broke: lena oberdorf is leaving wolfsburg for bayern. the transfer sent shockwaves through the football world, and as one of the leading journalists in women’s football, it was your job to cover it.

except your coworker, matt, stepped in before you could even begin.

“i’ve got this one,” matt said casually, leaning against your desk.

you looked up from your laptop, frowning.

“since when do you cover transfers? you only do injury status stuff..”

he shrugged.

“since i know this one’s a little... complicated for you.”

“complicated?” you repeated, your tone sharper than you intended.

matt raised an eyebrow, unbothered by your reaction.

“look, everyone knows that you and oberdorf had... something. i’m just trying to make it easier for you.”

“i don’t need you to make it easier for me,” you snapped, though the tightening in your chest betrayed you.

“i can handle it.”

“y/n,” judah, matt’s husband and your other coworker, spoke up, his voice softer.

“you don’t have to prove anything. let matt take this one.”

you wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, but the truth was, the thought of facing lena again—even from a professional distance—made your stomach churn.

you hated that she still had this power over you, that the mere mention of her name could unravel the carefully constructed walls you’d built around yourself.

“fine,” you muttered, closing your laptop with more force than necessary.

matt gave you a reassuring smile. “i’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

as he walked away, you leaned back in your chair, exhaling slowly. you told yourself it didn’t matter. lena was just another player, another story. you’d moved on.

except, deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true.

paris had this summer’s energy with the olympics. the streets were alive with fans draped in flags from all over the world, and you were in your element, weaving through the chaos to chase stories that mattered.

the united states had just played germany in the group stage, a tense match that ended in a 4-1 victory for the americans. the post-match adrenaline was palpable, and you had just wrapped up an interview with sophia smith.

it was nice seeing one of your favorites again, sophia’s grin mirrored your own as she walked off toward her teammates to the dressing room, the tension of the match now replaced by joy.

you adjusted your microphone to turn it off. you turned to walk away, preparing to call it a day when you nearly collided with lea schüller.

the blonde woman’s presence was commanding, her expression soft yet serious. you’ve interviewed her a long time ago while she still played for essen, but now she’s grown up.

“oh, lea,” you said, recovering quickly. professionalism kicked in as you gestured toward the camera crew that was starting to pack up.

“did you want to do a quick interview too? i can call them back.”

“no,” lea said quickly, shaking her head. her tone caught you off guard—there was a weight to it, something unsaid pressing at the edges.

“i don’t want the cameras.”

your brow furrowed as you lowered your microphone and put it away in your bag.

“are you okay? i mean, this is about the olympics, right? you should be focusing on that.”

“i am,” lea said, her voice steady but her gaze unwavering.

“but this isn’t about the olympics. not entirely.”

you tilted your head, curiosity prickling at your skin.

“then what is it about?”

lea hesitated, glancing around as if to make sure no one was listening.

“can we just talk? no microphones, no cameras. just you and me.”

you hesitated. as much as you respected lea, this wasn’t normal protocol. the look in her eyes—earnest and almost pleading—nudged you to agree.

“okay,” you said softly.

“what’s on your mind?”

lea exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. she stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“i’m here to apologize. not for myself—but for obi.”

your heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. you hadn’t spoken about obi in months, hadn’t even allowed yourself to think about her for fear of reopening old wounds.

here it was, her name hanging in the air between you and lea like a ghost.

“apologize?” you echoed, keeping your tone neutral.

“for what?”

lea shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “i know about you and lena. about... what you had.” she paused, watching your expression carefully.

“she’s really sorry for how things ended. or—how they didn’t end, i guess. for ghosting you.”

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry.

“she told you about us?”

“she did, but honestly she didn’t have to,” lea said gently.

“i’m her best friend. i noticed how different she was after you two stopped seeing eachother. she’s not great at dealing with her emotions, and back then...” lea trailed off, sighing.

“she was going through a lot. losing the champions league final with wolfsburg hit her hard. then germany getting knocked out of the world cup? it was too much. and she didn’t know how to handle it. she shut everyone out, including you. shit, it took me a few weeks to get to her again.”

you wanted to look away, to shield yourself from the vulnerability of the moment, but lea’s gaze held you in place. the blonde’s words twisted something deep inside you—part anger, part sadness, part longing.

“i get that she was struggling,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt.

“but she could’ve said something. anything. instead, she just... disappeared.”

“i know,” lea said quickly. “and i’m not trying to make excuses for her. she knows she messed up. that’s why she asked me to talk to you since she can’t be here.”

you blinked, the weight of her words settling over you.

“she asked you?”

lea nodded.

“she wants you to know she’s sorry. she didn’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that an apology coming from me isn’t enough.”

you folded your arms across your chest, the defense mechanism almost automatic. “it’s not,” you admitted.

“if she wants to apologize, she should tell me herself.”

lea’s expression softened, and she gave a small nod.

“i understand and i think she does too, but she’s scared, y/n. scared you’ll never forgive her.”

you took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed.

“i’m not saying i wouldn’t. but it has to come from her. not you.”

lea studied you for a moment, then offered a small smile.

“honestly, you’re a good person, y/n. she doesn’t deserve you, but if she gets the chance to explain herself, i think you’ll see she’s been trying to be better.”

you didn’t respond right away. part of you wanted to dismiss the entire conversation, to pretend it didn’t matter anymore. the truth was, it did. lena still mattered, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

“thank you, lea,” you said finally, your voice quiet.

“for telling me.”

lea smiled again, this time with a hint of relief.

“of course. and for what it’s worth, i think she’ll reach out. she just needs to find the courage.”

as she walked away, you stood there, the noise of the olympic village fading into the background. you weren’t sure how to feel… relieved? angry? hopeful?

it started innocently enough—moments stolen between interviews and training sessions, quiet conversations that lingered long after they ended. obi was magnetic by a vulnerability she rarely showed to anyoen except for you.

she made you laugh when you least expected it. over time, those stolen moments grew into something deeper. the teasing smiles turned into lingering glances, and the casual touches—her hand brushing yours, her knee pressed against yours under the table—became harder to ignore.

usually, you were able to keep your professionalism for footballers, but lena made you feel ways that you didn’t feel for a very long time until that spring of 2023.

for lena, you were different. she had always been wary of letting anyone get too close, but with you, it felt effortless. you asked about her family, her dreams, the books she read when she needed to escape the noise of the world. however, you asked because you wanted to know– not because you needed something new to write about for an article.

obi, in turn, wanted to know everything about you—your favorite coffee order, the places you dreamed of visiting, the stories you carried behind your composed demeanor as an interviewer. it scared her how much she wanted to know, how much she wanted to keep you close.

the nights you spent together weren’t just about the sex, though that was undeniable. it was about the quiet moments after, when lena would trace lazy circles on your skin as you talked about nothing and everything.

it was in the way she’d insist on walking you back to your room, even when it was out of her way, or how she’d send you random texts during the day—pictures of the sky, a meme she thought you’d find funny, a simple compliment.

it wasn’t just hooking up, not to either of you, even if neither of you said the words out loud.

the semifinal was here a week after lea and you talked. the united states against germany, again.

you adjusted the strap of your bag, walking alongside matt and judah as you made your way to the front-row seats reserved for the media.

matt was mid-story, animatedly describing america’s pre-match routine as he holds judah’s hand. you’re set to interview lindsey horan after the match. your media company is collaborating with the united states to put out a documentary if the united states win the olympics. a contrast to being eliminated from the world cup a year before.

matt was talking when suddenly stopped in his tracks. his hand reached out to grab your arm, his eyes wide. “y/n,” he said, his voice dropping in volume.

“don’t freak out, but... is that who I think it is?”

you followed his gaze, and the world seemed to tilt for a moment. lena. sitting in the crowd just a few rows behind where your seats were, her presence as sharp and overwhelming as a gust of icy wind.

she was next to lea, who was also sidelined due to injury, both of them out of action yet here to support their team. lena’s leg was propped slightly to accommodate the brace on her knee—a harsh reminder of her recent acl surgery.

your breath caught in your throat as her eyes locked onto yours. there was a softness in her gaze, an unreadable mix of intrigue and something else that made your chest ache. she smiled lightly, not quite coy but just enough to make you feel unsteady.

beside her, lea glanced your way and offered a small, sympathetic smile that only twisted the knot forming in your stomach.

“shit,” you murmured under your breath, quickly looking away and focusing on the crowd in front of you. your heart raced, a thrum so loud you were sure matt and judah could hear it.

“are you okay?” matt asked, his tone cautious, concerned.

“fine,” you said quickly, your voice tight.

“just wasn’t expecting—her.”

“do you want to switch seats?” judah offered, ever the considerate one.

“no,” you said, shaking your head even as your hands trembled slightly.

“it’s fine. i’ll deal with it.”

it didn’t feel fine. it felt like your chest was caving in, the air around you charged with tension. lena wasn’t supposed to be here. she was supposed to be in germany, recovering. why was she here, in france, sitting just a few rows behind you?

you made your way to your seat, determined to ignore the weight of her presence. matt and judah settled on the left side of you, chatting about the potential lineup changes for both teams. its 0-0 in the 40th minute and its clear that both teams might need changes. you nodded along absently, your thoughts spinning in a dozen directions. you glanced at the pitch, and latched onto lindsey horan’s familiar figure. you reminded yourself that you were here for a reason. lindsey. you had a job to do.

it was impossible to shake the sensation that someone is looking at you. it crawled along your skin, pulling your attention until you couldn’t resist. you turned your head slightly, your gaze flicking over your shoulder—and there she was.

lena.

she wasn’t watching the game. the german’s eyes were on you, unflinching and intent, as if she were trying to read your every move. obi’s expression wasn’t smug or teasing; it was quieter than that, almost searching.

beside her, lea was fully immersed in the match, cheering loudly as the germans pushed forward. however, lena’s focus was solely on you.

your stomach flipped, and you whipped your head back around, your pulse thundering in your ears. you clenched your hands into fists in your lap, willing yourself to calm down. the last thing you needed was to let lena see how much she still affected you.

“she’s looking at you, isn’t she?” judah’s leaned in, his voice feminine but low enough that only you could hear.

you didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded slightly. judah sighed, his tone softening.

“forget that she’s even there.”

easy for him to say. judah didn’t have the weight of months of unspoken words and unresolved feelings sitting just four rows behind him. of course he didn’t, neither judah or matt understood lesbian relationships.. or situationships. the married couple didn’t have to confront the ache of seeing someone who had disappeared from their lives without explanation.

you tried to watch the game and it worked for a while. as the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t help but wonder if this moment, this game, this crowd, was lena’s way of trying to find her way back into your life.

it was.

the americans kicked out germany to secure their place in the gold or silver medal match as germany will fight spain for the bronze medal. you finished your interview with lindsey in record time. it helped that she was a close friend, making the questions flow naturally.

after the camera crew packed up and moved away, lindsey squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

“good luck with... whatever’s on your mind,” she said, her knowing smile hinting that she’d picked up on your unease before and after the interview. before you could respond, she jogged off to join her celebrating teammates, leaving you standing alone at the edge of the media zone.

then, you saw her.

lena was on crutches, moving slowly through the thinning crowd. the brace on her leg was unmistakable, but it was her eyes that made your chest tighten. she was looking right at you, determined, like she’d already decided this conversation was going to happen whether you wanted it to or not.

you froze. part of you wanted to turn and walk away before she reached you. however, your feet could not move. your pulse quickened as she stopped in front of you, her presence commanding despite the vulnerability of her injury.

“hi,” she said softly, her voice carrying an unfamiliar mix of nervousness and resolve.

you nodded, keeping your tone professional.

“hi, lena. how’s the leg?”

her lips curved into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“it’s... getting there. rehab’s gonna be tough, but i’m managing.”

you nodded again, the words sticking in your throat.

“that’s good. um, do you want to—”

“no,” lena interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind.

“don’t do that, y/n. don’t skip around what happened. we can’t just act like it didn’t exist.”

you blinked, caught off guard by her directness.

“lena, i don’t think—”

“please,” she cut in, her tone softening as she adjusted her crutches to steady herself.

“let me talk.”

you swallowed hard, nodding. she took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering as she began.

“i messed up,” she said, her voice low but steady.

“last summer... after the champions league final and the world cup, i was in a bad place. i felt like i’d failed at everything that mattered—my team, my country, my family, and you.” she paused, her brows knitting together.

“i was embarrassed. i didn’t know how to face you because i thought you deserved better than the mess i was. so, i ran and that was the worst thing i could’ve done.”

obi’s words hit you like a wave, stirring up emotions you’d worked hard to bury. you opened your mouth to speak, but lena pressed on.

“i thought i needed space,” she continued. “and maybe i did, but i didn’t realize what i was losing until it was too late. until you were gone. and i’ve missed you, y/n. every day. not just what we had, but you. your laugh, the way you understood me even when i couldn’t find the words.” she paused, her voice catching.

“i haven’t forgotten about you. not for one day.”

you looked away, trying to steady your breathing. “lena,” you began, your voice shaky.

“do you have any idea how much that hurt? you just... disappeared. no explanation, no goodbye. i thought—i thought i didn’t matter to you.”

“you mattered,” she said quickly, her voice firm.

“you still matter. i know i hurt you, and i’ll never forgive myself for that. but i’m here now, and i’m asking... can we start over? i have so much time on my hands now with this injury. time to make it right, if you’ll let me.”

you hesitated, the weight of her words settling over you. “maybe you should focus on your recovery,” you said finally, your tone careful. “that’s what’s most important right now.”

lena nodded, her expression serious.

“i am. my therapist said part of my recovery is being honest with myself though and the truth is, i want you back in my life. not just as something casual. i want us to be official, when the time is right.”

obi’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. then, you nodded slowly.

“i’ll be in munich when bayern plays their first champions league match,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“we’ll see where things stand then.”

lena’s face broke into a smile—genuine, relieved, and filled with something you hadn’t seen in her for a long time: hope. “okay,” she said softly. “okay.”

she stepped closer, leaning down slightly despite the crutches to pull you into a hug. her arms wrapped around you tightly, and you felt her press a small, lingering kiss to the side of your head. it was grounding, familiar in a way that made your chest ache.

as she pulled back, she met your eyes again. “you can stay at my place in munich anytime,” she offered, her tone light but sincere.

you gave her a small smile.

“okay.”

just like that, the past felt smaller, less significant. the past did not exist anymore, since the future was all you and obi have.

masterlist

#lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen #lea schuller #woso soccer

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your-hockey-mom · 3 days ago

Note

loved your sick gf/helpful quinn post

can we get a sick quinn this time? I feel like he'd be a big baby when he's sick

Quinn had coughed all night.

It had started off small but had quickly developed into something more consistent and with a persistent wheeze alongside it. He seemed so uncomfortable: tossing and turning, trembling with the chills and cold sweats. It seemed like with each passing hour a new symptom appeared: from the cough to finally the body aches. You wanted to soothe his pain and make him comfortable but he just pushed you away, It had kind of hurt your feelings having him reject you time and again, but you were just trying to help. Best you could do was tell yourself it was just because he felt bad and that he didn't mean to be that way.

By this point, you couldn't sleep. Quinn's constant shifting and coughing had given you no peace or himself for that matter. Sometime in the night, you grabbed your pillow and went to the sofa instead, You didn't want to leave him, but if he was sick, he would need someone to care for him come the morning. If you were running on a couple hours sleep, it wasn't going to be you; you might as well be sick right alongside of him.

Even from the living room, you could hear him cough, hear the wheeze cause him so much pain with its ability to take his breath away. You probably didn't sleep any more on the sofa than you would have beside him. Every so often you'd force yourself to get up and check on him. He had a fever and was burning up yet he appeared to be asleep. Quinn needed medicine and as soon as possible but you weren't about to wake him up to take any. Instead, you'd dig through the bathroom cabinets and find some multi-symptom cough syrup. The label said it would help counteract each of the things Quinn was dealing with but would it be enough? You'd leave it on his bedside table for the next time a coughing fit woke him.

When morning came around he seemed worse. Congestion had set in and it had changed the sound of his voice to something nasally instead of its usually velvety tone. Getting him to take anything was like pulling teeth because he just wanted to lay with the pillow over his head, hidden from everything especially the morning light. Though Quinn wasn't normally the dramatic type, when he was sick, it was like the end of the world.

"Baby, please, just take this and I'll leave you alone. That's all I asking you to do."

"I'm fine. I just-- I'm fine," he said from under the covers.

"You're not and you know it. Please, just take it?"

"I just need to sleep it off."

You tried to contain your sigh but it was hard. He was being completely unreasonable and it was starting to wear on your nerves. If he just took the medicine it would help but getting him to see that point wasn't going your way. This wasn't the first time he had probably felt like this, so why was he being such a baby?

"Why won't you take it, Quinn?"

There was a long pause. You knew he wasn't asleep. Was he ignoring you in the hopes that you'd give up and just walk away? If that were the case, you were close to it.

"Okay, fine. Suit yourself." Leaving the medicine on the table, you'd leave the room defeated. What else were you supposed to do? He didn't want to be touched, loved on, or anything but left alone. At least that's how it seemed. Even simple conversations were proving to be a battle.

You shut the bedroom door behind you and went to the kitchen. Food didn't seem like the magical end-all-be-all cure to his cold but if he didn't want it then you'd just take it for yourself. Soup seemed like the best choice even if it was the cliche option. "Comforting to the soul and stomach," your mom always said when you were sick. However, a quick assessment of the pantry revealed you didn't have what you needed for soup.

Instead of sticking your head back into the bedroom to let him know you were headed out, you texted his phone saying something similar.

"I'm going to the store. I'll be back in a bit."

Short and painfully to the point. It wouldn't be until you were in Quinn's car that you felt guilty for how you had come off. You'd text him once more before finally leaving; trying to rewrite your sour attitude towards him.

"I love you."

- - -

When you returned to the apartment, you could see signs of life that hadn't been there before. The cough medicine was now on the island; the used dosing cup had remnants of the syrup still in the bottom, A loaf of bread was poorly wrapped up alongside it, and what looked like a simple cheese sandwich sat on a napkin with one bite taken out of it. And finally, on the sofa, was a bundled up Quinn, his tangled curls spilling out over one of the pillows he rested his head on.

"Hi," he said, when you walked past him. His tone was defeated, moping even. Had you hurt his feelings? It wasn't your intention to, but it was just frustrating trying to help someone who just came off like they would rather stay miserable.

"Hi, baby."

"Where did you go? I came out and you were gone." Quinn didn't lift his head off the pillow or even his eyes. When you looked over at him he was looking at your feet.

"I texted you. I went to the store to get stuff to make you soup."

"I haven't looked at my phone. You didn't have to do that." His monotone was worse now, tinged slightly with his own flavour of annoyance.

Had you been in a worse mood, you would have said something about checking his phone, but instead you were able to bite your tongue. He didn't feel good, you had to remind yourself of this fact. This wasn't your Quinn - your sweet Huggy Bear - this was someone struggling with their body fighting against them to get better. You knew Quinn would never purposefully give you an attitude or be short with you, and the same should have been said about you.

"I'm sorry I was short with you, Quinn," you finally get out. You had hoped that would have removed some weight from your chest but instead it only made it heavier. He still wouldn't look at you. In fact, he closed his eyes after you had spoken your apology. Seeing him ignore you that way felt terrible, but you felt you had earned his cold shoulder. You had been sick a few times since you had been together and Quinn had been so kind and selfless. What had given you the right to be so unsympathetic?

"It's fine," he said, snuggling deeper into his self-made cocoon.

"It's not fine." Your heart hurts as you cross the room to kneel before where he lay. "Honey, I'm sorry." You brush the sweat-matted hair from his forehead. He was burning up with fever but this time he managed to look at you. He looked like he could melt into tears at any moment.

"I'm sorry I ignored you earlier," he replied, meeting you halfway with his own apology.

"You don't feel good, Quinn, it's okay. I'm sorry I got mad. I had no right to."

Quinn sniffled, either from the congestion or just because he was getting that emotional. Either way, you leaned forward and gave him a tender kiss to his forehead. This made the faintest smile appear on his half-concealed lips.

"You probably shouldn't kiss me," he mumbles, silently thankful for the gentle affection. Deep down, he wanted it; wanted to be babied and taken care of but instead of asking for it, he just found himself coming off as hard-headed.

"It's alright," you reassure him, a second kiss finding its mark along with the first. "I'll just get sick right with you."

"I don't want you to get sick, though."

"I know you don't but sometimes it happens. At least we'll have soup." You give him a smile, the first one that day. He returns the sentiment.

"What kind?"

"Broccoli cheddar and the classic chicken noodle. Which do you want first?"

"You got stuff for both?" His little voice sounded shocked, amazed that you'd treat him to two different types of soup varieties. Sometimes it was the little things that made the biggest impact.

"Of course I did."

Quinn tried to sit but got winded halfway through, a coughing fit taking what strength he had built up.

"Oh, baby, you need to rest. How about you get a nap and I'll wake you up when I get something done?"

"Okay."

"It's okay, sweetheart, I'll manage." You wink, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay, and that you could handle some soup-making alone. When you stood up, you caught the subtle trembling from under his blanket. "I'm going to get you another blanket, okay?"

"Okay."

Those short responses you recognized were the best he could do at the time and didn't strike a nerve like they had earlier. But walking away from him still hurt like it had the first time, and you could feel his eyes on you still. From a tote under your bed, you found a heated blanket your parents had sent you after you made the decision to move to Vancouver. Hopefully this would bring Quinn some more consistent heat despite his body running his internal thermostat like a child left unsupervised.

"Here, baby, this should help you. Do you want this overtop or...?"

"I want that one," he said, pulling the original one from his body as best he could.

"It's okay, it's okay. Here, let me get it," you say, helping Quinn untuck himself before draping him with the ultra-plush heated one. "Should be nice and hot in just a few minutes."

"Thank you," he said, gripping it tightly. "Thanks for helping me."

"Thank you for letting me. I'm going to go make you some soup, okay? I'll try to be quiet so I don't wake you."

"I'll just...I'll be right here," he said through a yawn, the medicine finally kicking in and lulling him to sleep.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic

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totalswag · 11 hours ago

Text

the queen has posted once again 👸

you never fail to impress me with your work gf 🫵🤭😍

the entire instagram conversation had me dying of laughter and excitement!! the way those two talk over text is one of my favorite parts of this series for REAL 😩

we loveee needy rafe ugh!!!! come my baby boyyy

“He’ll understand.” Rafe mocked, grabbing the perfume you sprayed from the shelf. “How can I hold myself back, when you’re this beautiful, baby?” There it was, baby. The pet name only made your heart race more, the sound so loud, you heard it echoing through your ears.

just knowing how he actually says baby makes me weak to my knees. making us fold in public setting?? i'm not complaining 🙂‍↔️

i mean if he called me "baby" in public i would act the same way

can we just talk about the ending and how rafe wanted to see reader?? like yeah rafe show us that needy side YAASSS!!!! 🧎‍♀️

Rafe paused before responding, face turning pale. “What?” “Is that Bug’s phone?” Ryan questioned, smile fading off his lips. “What is my sister’s phone doing in your room?” Shit, your phone.

ooo someone's busted👀? leaving us on the cliff hanger again i see. i'ma try my best to patiently wait for the next chapter 🚶‍♀️

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (07)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content mature content, nsfw (nothing too explicit, it gets interrupted), suggestive, making out, pet names, unresolved tension, fluff, sexual jokes, desperate rafe (mhmmmm), brief mention of cocaine

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 06 ! 07 ¡ 08

↳ yourusername replied to your story: hey… that’s not very nice :(

Rafe kissed you.

It wasn’t a dream, nor was it accidental. Rafe Cameron, whom you marked off limits, kissed you, and hell, did you enjoy every second of it.

From that moment on, every minute you spent within his presence felt like living on edge; sneaking behind your brother’s back to enjoy his company, aware of the consequences, and the heartbreak that would result out of the truth.

Liking Rafe was like a calm after the storm, the moment your eyes land on him, time stops, and you forget all your worries. How were you supposed to resist him, when he’s your only escape from reality? The only person who’s ever made your heart rate increase in pace within a span of seconds.

Getting a casual conversation out of a guy, without it oscillating to something sexual was difficult in this society, however, with Rafe, it was easy. His eyes bloomed with more than just lust, it made all your doubts about finding the one fade, and that alone, would have younger you screaming.

Because what do you mean there’s a man out there that lines up with everything you’ve dreamed of and more, the puzzle you’ve been missing your whole life, merely for him to end up being your brother’s best friend, someone so forbidden, it burns when his touch lingers.

A bob formed in your throat, one hard to swallow down, that as much as it stings, you chose to bear it, even if it goes against the trust you formed with your brother. You told yourself it was okay, Ryan won’t overreact if he found out, right?

With a few touches, you managed to head downstairs, with everyone rushing you to come out, starting with Ryan, who somehow managed to call you fifteen times in the span of a minute. To your surprise, it wasn’t him driving, though, but Rafe?

You slightly halted when he greeted you with a smile, one hidden from everyone else’s eyes. A pair of sunglasses hugged the bridge of his nose, covering the glint of cockiness swelling through his gaze.

Reaching for the door handle, you quickly smiled at the sight of Sarah as she perked up from her seat once she seized sight of you. A grin formed on your lips, joining the girl’s side, completely forgetting yourself in her embrace, that Ryan’s scoldings barely registered in your system.

“Your brother is such a dick,” she joked, eyebrows furrowing with fake annoyance. “I couldn’t even properly get ready ‘cause of him.”

“Me?” He gasped, irritated by the ‘false’ remark. “You’re the one busy eating your boyfriend’s face!”

“Why am I getting involved?” John B chimed from Sarah’s side. “I was helping her out.”

“Yeah?” Ryan muttered in a mocking tone, “How so?”

“I do not want to know that.” Rafe clicked his teeth, dismissing Ryan’s question with his statement.

“You shut the fuck up.” Ryan scoffed, a sour expression smeared over his face. “Lending JJ my car? God knows what will happen to it.”

“JJ’s not a bad driver…” you trailed off, earning a dirty glare from your brother. “What?! Unless he’s drunk off his mind, then you’re good. He was always in charge of Twinkie.”

“That horrendous Van?” Ryan asked, voice filled with disbelief. “My baby and that ugly thing are two different things, don’t you dare compare them.”

“Alright man,” John B started, “At least it gets the job done.”

“Why are you picking a fight with everyone?” Rafe chuckled, pulling out of the driveway. “Sit back and relax, don’t stress your pretty lil’ brain out.”

“Gross.” Sarah muttered under her breath, nose scrunching with disgust.

“Can I get aux?” You asked, earning Rafe’s attention as he seeked the chord plugged to the speakers, immediately offering it to you from over his shoulder when it was within his reach. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” He hummed, the grogginess in his tone rattling through your chest.

“Why is she in control of aux?” Ryan perked up at the act, addressing Rafe with his question. “I thought we agreed I’d be in charge.”

“That’s in bed, baby.” Rafe flashed him a tight-lipped smile, sparing him a glimpse for a second, before his attention was back on the road. His fingers found the curve of Ryan’s jaw, using the tip of the digits to scratch the latter’s chin.

“Move!” He slapped Rafe’s hand away, lips jutting into a frown. “Why’s everyone ganging up on me today?”

“‘Kay, stop acting like a bitch.” You started, further getting on your brother’s nerves. “Should’ve stayed home.”

Rafe’s arm blocked Ryan from shooting off his seat, a glint of amusement smothering through his expression. If one could calm Ryan, it was definitely Rafe. Considering their differences, they get along quite well, perhaps why they’ve made it together far this long.

The rest of the car ride filled with havoc, as both you and Sarah sang along to the lyrics, while John B sat back and watched, admiring his girlfriend with so much love, you were envious. Oh to openly stare and have it not be a problem; was that too much to ask for?

A pit of jealousy laid low in your stomach, gaze shifting back to Rafe, whose eyes were glued to the road. Or so you thought, as his pupils caught you staring through the rearview mirror, not breaking the contact in hopes of you noticing him, even for a mere second.

The action was cut short when Ryan took notice of the situation, eyebrows furrowing with puzzlement as he directed his attention to you in a swift movement. His face pressed to the leather seats, reaching over the dashboard, and flicking your arm with the intent of capturing your focus.

“Where’s your wallet?” He asked, voice muffled due to the melody playing in the background.

“My wallet?” You repeated, afraid you heard the phrase wrong. “Why do you need my wallet?”

“I put my ID in there,” he explained, searching for the object with his gaze. “Figured you’d have it on you.”

You rolled your eyes, patting around your seat, in an attempt to grab your wallet, instantly coming to a halt as realization washed over. “Wait.”

“What?” Ryan mumbled.

“Did I get my wallet?” You asked, the question mostly to yourself. “I think I forgot my wallet.” You stated, peeking down the seats, in case it fell by accident. “You idiot, this is all your fault!”

“How is it my fault?!” He shot back, “Who forgets their wallet? That’s totally on you!”

“Yeah, own one then come talk.” You stifled out a sarcastic laugh, crying out with frustration. “This is so annoying, can’t we go back?”

“That’s a twenty minute drive from here.” Rafe answered, “I’d go back, but that would delay our plans.”

“Yeah,” Sarah agreed, rubbing soothing circles to the blade of your shoulder. “It’s fine, you can jus’ use my card, baby.”

“It’s okay Sarah,” you groaned, falling back in your seat. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh come on, are you scared I’ll put you on a budget?” Sarah teased, attempting to ease your discomfort. “Don’t worry, I’ll sugar mama you.”

A giggled escaped your throat at her words, mockingly sticking out your tongue when Ryan flipped you off. While Sarah strived to comfort you, worry yet washed over your expression, contemplating how you were going to spend the next few hours, with nothing but your phone on you.

The passing few minutes felt like an eternity upon your arrival, quickly joined by your friends once Rafe was all parked. It was fun, despite your friends insisting they’d pay for you, you still refused, shaking your head anytime they offered to buy you something that caught your interest.

Rafe noticed your shift in mood, cracking a joke every now and then, for a mere reaction out of you. And surprisingly, it worked, the latter managed to squeeze a giggle out of you, ridiculed by the horrible dad jokes he added in between conversations.

“Is it hot?” Rafe questioned, eyebrows furrowing with concern at the droplets of sweat trickling down your neck.

“Hmm?” You hummed, lips jutting with confusion. “It’s not bad.”

“Yeah?” He teased, gaze flickering to your hand, as you patted your neck dry with the gesture. “Want something to drink?”

“What? No.” You shook your head, admiring while your friends observed the handbags displayed on the counter. “I’m fine.”

“Hey uh,” Rafe’s voice suddenly broke out, earning everyone’s attention in the process. “We’re grabbing drinks, do you guys want anything?

Your gaze fixed on Rafe with disbelief, taken aback when he tugged your wrist, nodding along to your friends’ requests. Ryan took in the scene with confusion, mind racing with all sorts of thoughts, over why he shouldn’t reach over and yank Rafe’s hold off, forcing the fact that he was his best friend, he wouldn’t do such a thing, and betray his trust.

And if Rafe saw, he didn’t say a thing, choosing to not acknowledge it as he dragged you with him to the main lobby surrounded by different varieties of fast foods’ restaurants. Rafe let go of your hand, upon standing in line, with you already missing the warmness of his touch, breath hitching when he stood close enough for you to take a whiff of his musky cologne.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Rafe flashed the cashier a polite smile once it was your turn, eyes hovering over the menu displayed on the screens. “Can I get a uhh…”

You took Rafe's side while he listed your friends’ orders, stiffening when he turned to face you, with the purpose of asking for what you wanted. “I’ll get a milkshake.”

“Okay,” he nodded, observing the milkshake options on the menu. “What flavor would you like?”

“Whatever that’s available.” You stammered, clearing your throat as your eyes flickered to where Rafe was looking, trailing off before you muttered your next sentence. “Chocolate’s fine.”

“We’ll take one chocolate milkshake, then.” Rafe informed the cashier, flashing him a tight-lipped smile as he handed him his card.

The cashier passed Rafe the receipt, politely asking you two to step to the side, while waiting for your order to finish. You obliged to the request, following in Rafe’s steps as he took a corner, snorting when he plopped his arm over the counter, for the mere purpose of supporting his weight.

“What?” He chuckled, toying with the straws presented in the cup. “What’s so funny, Bug?”

“Don’t call me that.” You jokingly huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Is this about your wallet?” He cooed, poking your side with one of the straws. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.” You repeated, denying the assumption, though the boy had you practically figured out. “You’re annoying.”

“Yeah, and you’re grumpy.” He scrunched his nose, the gesture playful, teasing you in a way. “Whatever you want, buy it, I’ll pay for you.”

“I spend a lot of money, Rafe.” You uttered, ridiculed by his words. “Sure you can handle it?”

“Well,” he leaned down, voice dropping barely above a whisper. “Can you spend as much as I can earn?”

That earned a scuff out of you, rolling your eyes as you lightly smacked his shoulder, the action rattling a chuckle out of Rafe. Your face flushed with heat , remaining silent to suppress your flustered state from taking over your expression.

It didn’t take long before you were heading back, with the drinks ceased in your hold, as well as Rafe’s. Your friends were quick to help out, handing each person their order, while they offered you a smile of gratitude in return for your act of kindness.

Conversation with Rafe flowed like water, lifting your spirits, and cracking a smile of you every time he’d lean down and whisper hushed words into your ears. The action was subtle, you were sure none of your friends picked up on the way you’d tense each time Rafe stood too close, or made his presence known, shamefully letting his gaze flicker to your parted lips while your brother stood a few inches away, unaware of the latter’s intentions, and the tension seeping through the thick air.

Speaking of Ryan, the boy wandered off, leaving you and your friends behind, though that swiftly oscillated as each of you split into pairs, leaving you with Rafe, who did everything in his power to cut through the silence building up.

You brushed off his statements with short sentences, your dry responses settling a pang of guilt through your chest, intents far from hurting the latter, only realizing the switch in Rafe’s mood after you glanced up, and noticed the look of disappointment smothered all over his face.

Your attention fixed on the several fragrance bottles splayed on the shelf, misting the aroma over the paper samples to sniff each one. Rafe stood and watched, whirling your shake (God knows how that ended up in his hold) around with a lack of enthusiasm, failing to hide the fact that he wasn’t interested in what you were doing.

One of the perfumes piqued your curiosity, spraying it on your wrist to take another whiff, the soft vanilla scent intoxicating your senses. You suddenly turned to face Rafe, a smile spreading across your lips when he halted, lips extending with confusion at your sudden burst of excitement.

“What is it?” He mumbled, brows pinching in a knot.

“This one smells so good,” You uttered, taking a step forward, then pausing to ask your next question. “Do you wanna smell?”

“Sure.” He instantly straightened up, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Without thinking, you moved your arm ahead, offering the boy the patch of perfume sprayed on your hand, the action deemed innocent, catching Rafe off guard as he froze. He took a moment to process how close you were, now merely separated by your wrist as it blocked his vision from landing on your face, and hell, did you look pretty up close, though the majority of your features were covered.

Rafe hesitated, processing the risky ponders wandering through his head with haste, letting his impulsive thoughts take over as his fingers seized control of your wrist, inching it closer to his chin before he planted a gentle peck to the palm of your hand.

His hold lingered around your wrist, his mouth burning hot over your flesh, and spiraling a rush of adrenaline through your veins. A shuddered sigh barely escaped your parted lips, fluttering your eyes up at the latter, your flustered expression not much of help; smearing a mischievous smile across his lips.

“What are you doing?’You stuttered through a breath, hastily retrieving your hand from Rafe’s hold.

“Smelling it,” he explained, acting as if the action was the most normalest thing ever. “You asked me to smell it, did you not?”

“I did,” you shot back with frustration, pupils narrowing with the flutter of your chest, feeling your pulse quicken under Rafe’s gaze. “I said to smell it, not kiss it.”

“What’s wrong?” He chuckled, pointing his finger in your direction. “Are you shy?”

“What?” Your face twisted with fake annoyance, glimpsing around before you lightly kicked his knee. “No, Rafe. What if someone saw you?”

“I don’t care.” He stifled out a sarcastic laugh, amused by your reaction.

“Yeah?” You forced your lips into a fake smile, ridiculed by Rafe’s lack of worry. “And how will you explain whatever that was to Ryan, Mr. I don’t care?”

“He’ll understand.” Rafe mocked, grabbing the perfume you sprayed from the shelf. “How can I hold myself back, when you’re this beautiful, baby?”

There it was, baby. The pet name only made your heart race more, the sound so loud, you heard it echoing through your ears.

A hitched breath knocked out of your chest, taken aback by the sudden boldness seeping through Rafe’s tone, your shyness only encouraging him more. You cleared your throat, grabbing the drink from his hold before facing away, afraid you’d crumble if you stared any longer.

“Shut up.” You dismissed, faking interest in the purses displayed on the shelf. “Don’t do that again.”

“‘Won’t make any promises.” He clicked his teeth, grabbing a packaged perfume from next to the various ones on display. “Do you want to get it?”

“No.” You shook your head, politely refusing with a glimpse over your shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“Alright,” he nodded, streaking past you, and heading straight towards the line. “We’re getting it.”

“That’s not necessary, Rafe.” You muttered through gritted teeth, avoiding the weird looks you received when Rafe dodged your attempt at snatching the boxed fragrance.

While you were stubborn, the latter was twice as stubborn as you were, insisting on buying it, despite you refusing. And true to his intentions, Rafe ends up purchasing the perfume for you, a defeated scoff exiting your throat when he flashed you a sheepish grin, proud of his accomplishment.

A sigh of relief tumbled past your mouth when you spotted Cleo, along with Pope, taking the scene as an opportunity to escape Rafe’s side; though that wasn’t a choice, with the blond practically gluing to you, following in your steps like a lost puppy.

It didn’t take long for the rest to join in, deciding it was a good time to leave upon the stores closing, one followed by another. Ryan contently retrieved his keys from JJ, fetching Pope, Cleo, and JJ, while the rest of you stuck in a group, the ride back filling with chaos, as yet, another karaoke session broke out, excpet this time, it involved lots of heartbreaks.

A new category.

The majority of your evening was consumed by the ocean waves rocketing, while you and your friends messed around. You let your worries go for once, heart swelling with happiness, one you didn’t think could be ruined.

Things were perfect, as you reunited with your friends, got to spend your summer vacation with them, and you met Rafe. You haven’t been happier since, it terrified you, heart stinging with horror, because you refused to believe this wasn’t ending on a bad note, hence it was a little too perfect.

The night ended off quite earlier than you had expected, with your friends excusing themselves to bed after movie night. Rafe subtly sneaked a smile your way, mouthing ‘goodnight’ before disappearing off to his room.

That being said, you strived to fall asleep, resetting your progress every time you’d accidently unlatched your eyes, a huff of frustration escaping your throat in the process. You were too overwhelmed to sleep, unable to suppress the foolish grin masking your lips as what happened earlier stumbles across your mind, the vivid image of Rafe’s expression creating a flustered mess out of you.

You tried not to think about it, being as quiet as physically possible, to avoid stirring Kiara’s slumber, anything but wanting to disturb her sleep. A random video played on your phone, a mere background noise as your brain, yet wandered back to the situation, zoning out, and fully abandoning the device in your hold.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a ping, attention shifting back to the bright screen, almost gasping when you caught the contact of the sender.

It was Rafe. (not one person is surprised)

rafe 👍: You awake?

Sent, 12:55 am

You: ?? hello

rafe 👍: Hi baby

Your face flushed with heat, unfamiliar with the latter constantly using pet names, the act surprising, never failing to make your heart flutter.

You: why are you awake?

rafe 👍: Hmm

rafe 👍: Probably the same reason you are

A laugh stifled out of your throat at the message, hurrying to type back a response.

You: yeah 🤨

You: and what reason must that be

Rafe’s text bubble appeared and disappeared, fingers hesitatingly hovering over the screen, while you awaited the latter’s answer.

rafe 👍: I

rafe 👍: I can’t stop thinking about you

rafe: It’s driving me crazy

Oh.

You: stop being an idiot

You: go to sleep its late

rafe 👍: I’m not fucking around

rafe 👍: Wanna see you so bad

Your eyes fluttered with utmost desire, digging your teeth through your bottom lip, merely to confirm this wasn't a dream.

You: we’ll see eo tmr

rafe 👍: You think

rafe 👍: I can wait til’ tomorrow?

rafe 👍: I can't Yn

rafe 👍: Can I come to your room

You: Huh

You: what

You: for what?

rafe 👍: Js’ wanna see you baby

rafe 👍: Am I not allowed to do that?

You nervously gulped, well aware he wanted more than to just see you; both of you did.

You: kies asleep

rafe 👍: Okay

rafe 👍: I’ll be fast

The desperation in his tone squeezes a shy snort out of you, sitting up in bed as you typed out a reply.

You: don’t come

You: stay in your room

rafe 👍: What

rafe 👍: Why?

You: i’ll

You: come to you

rafe 👍: Shit wait

rafe 👍: Are you serious?

rafe 👍: Don’t fuck with me

You: is anyone by you

rafe 👍: NOo

rafe 👍: No one is by me

rafe 👍: I’m all alone

you: alr

you: im coming

You don’t know whether it was the sleep heaving your eyes, or the desire engulfing your insides, however, you felt sure of your decision, leisurely pulling the covers off your figure, before you hastily made your way out, with the purpose of seeking Rafe.

A knock is all it took, with the latter quickly unlatching the door, chest rising and falling with a breath once he caught sight of you. His gaze trailed down to your satin sleep set, perfectly adorning your figure, that holding himself back felt far out of the picture.

“Hi.” You sheepishly greeted the latter, growing nervous under his gaze. At that, Rafe’s head shoots up, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat.

“Hey,” he shot back, clutching the doorknob with force. “Come in.”

You accepted the invitation, steps slow as you let yourself inside, observing the plain furniture, so boring,yet screaming Rafe’s name. “Your room is nice.”

“Thanks.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head once he shut the door, eyes roaming everywhere but your face.

He was starting to regret this, tempting himself when he knows he can’t handle another minute with you this far away, wanting nothing but to seize the distance, cross the now invisible line and fuck it.

“You’re welcome.” You hummed, lips pursing into a thin line.

Tension seeped through the air, heaving the atmosphere with lust, desire; all your wants and needs.

“Why did you want to see me?” You abruptly asked, approaching the door once again, a few feet down from Rafe. A chuckle escaped your lips, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “In the middle of the night, too? You’re not slick, Cameron.”

Mhm, that made things even worse.

“Do I need a reason to see you now?” He answered you with another question, casually, but deliberately approaching you. “You think I’m that bad?”

“No.” You whispered, fingers clutching the fabric of your shorts, reminiscing over the memory of his lips colliding with yours after your back firmly pressed to the door, chest immediately swelling with Deja Vu. “It was a joke.”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, voice dropping to match yours. “You think that night was a mistake?”

“What night?” You stiffened, prior to acknowledging his question, as you’ve done nothing but avoid it over the past few days.

“The night I kissed you.” He further clarified, his figure swallowing yours as he hovered over you. “You regret it?”

“Why are you bringing that up?” You nearly choked on your own spit at the confrontation, goosebumps breaking out across your arms when the tip of his fingers lightly traced over your forearm, the sensation like feathers to your flesh.

“Don’t know,” he replies, vision going blurry. “Wanna know how you feel.”

A shaky sigh managed its way past your lips, mouth gaping to speak, but instead met with utter silence in return. Rafe’s eyes glinted with keen, seeking an answer out of you; a response to all his problems and more.

But nothing.

“I’ll leave.” You started, words far from what you wanted. “It’s getting late.”

Rafe’s face fell at that, chest swelling with disappointment as he shifted to step back, giving you enough space to squeeze through. “Right, you should; ‘s totally my fault for keeping you up.”

One word. That’s all you wanted to hear; don’t.

However, you were both idiots, too afraid to express your feelings for each other, hesitating over the possibilities of what if’s.

So what if Ryan found out?

You like Rafe, so much it stings knowing you can’t have him, your said brother being the reason he’s forbidden. He’s your blood, though, him of all people should know how much this means to you, hence he’s witnessed all your horrific experiences with dating.

Telling Ryan wasn’t the problem, it was you all along; teetering to make the first move, let your impulsive thoughts win and claim him, move forward and crash your lips on his, it was all on you for putting other people’s priorities over yours.

Putting yourself first spoke like no other, and that’s exactly what you did as you grabbed Rafe by the collar of his shirt, wasting no time before you collided his lips with yours.

Rafe’s eyes widened with shock, arms awkwardly hanging to his sides as you captured his bottom lip in between your own, proceeding with the gesture when you angled your head to the side, intending to deepen the kiss.

Rafe didn’t do anything though, he froze in his spot, not daring to move, even after you mustered up the courage to kiss him. Panic immediately washed over as you pulled away, mouth moving faster than your brain while muttering your next words.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” You apologized, guilt evident in your expression. “I thought you wanted this– I didn’t mean to force anything on you, we can jus’ act like this never happened, I don’t m–”

Your rambling cut short, interrupted when Rafe sweeped you in an eager kiss, the action desperate, seeking closure through it. You contently kissed him back, yelping when his arm found the curve of your waist, applying enough pressure to seize control of your body.

The latter almost stumbled over his own feet, nearly falling in the process of leading you to the bed. Rafe took action when he noticed your struggle to keep up, hands traveling to the back of your thighs, and before you knew it, the boy scooped you in a swift movement, your legs latching to his sides for support.

Your arms wrapped around Rafe’s neck, moaning as he nibbled the plump of your lip with the graze of his teeth, using your parted lips as an opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, letting the warmth of your spit coat his own.

His tongue swirled over yours, managing to plop himself on the edge of the bed, all while squeezing and kneeding your ass, chasing after your pleasure with each time you squirmed in his hold.

“Fuck,” rafe muffled in between kisses, “Taste so fuckin’ good, baby.”

A moan rolls off your tongue at the praise, mind hazing with despair as Rafe’s hot breath fanned over your face, the warmth tickling your skin, and sending shivers down your spine. Rafe wasted no time, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, the tip of his digits teasingly toying with it.

You whined into his mouth, protesting to the wait he’s putting you through, hips unintentionally rolling down over his crotch in the process, almost folding when you felt him twitch at the gesture. Rafe hissed at the contact, swiftly pressing your hips down in place, the hardon in his pants not being much of help.

“Don’t fucking do that.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. “God, you’re killing me.”

“Rafeee,” you cooed, throwing your head back with the intent of arching your back, panties now soaked with your juices. “Feels s’ good.”

“You’re a mess.” Rafe teased, stifling out a laugh. He purposely halted, testing your limits, and how far you can go without crumbling in his hold. “So desperate for me, aren’t you?.”

“Fucking do something.” Your nails dug to his shoulders with force, well aware your hold would bruise, already forming red marks with the touch. “Don’t jus’ tease me.”

“You’re being a brat.” He chuckled with amusement, gaze landing on your cleavage, now half exposed from him groping the delicate flesh. “Thought you were a good girl, baby.”

At that, your breath hitched, forehead leaning against Rafe’s when his fingers lightly traced over your breasts, the sensation like feathers to your skin. He licked a stripe of your tit, the warmth of his spit coating the outer shell of your boob.

Rafe took your chest in his hold, action falling short as a knock suddenly erupted through the door, startling both of you out of your haze and despair. You instantly froze, pushing Rafe off to spare him a glance, almost as if to ask what the noise was.

“Aye Rafe.” The familiar voice echoed through your ears, causing your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach. “Are you in there?”

“That’s Ryan.” Rafe beat you to speaking, words stating the obvious.

“No shit it’s Ryan.” You sarcastically whisper-yelled, “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know!” Rafe shrugged his shoulders. “I thought he was asleep.”

Both of you turned with panic when the doorknob twisted back and fourth, indicating the latter was trying to open the door. “Aye come on, open up; I know you’re awake.”

“Shit, we’re in trouble.” You nervously bit your lip, scrambling to get off his lap. Rafe fixed his shirt, adjusting his position to hide the hardon visible in his pants. “What do we do?”

“Okay– shit, wait.” Rafe took a breath, observing the room with frustration. “I’ll hide in the closet, you open the door and shoo him away.”

“It’s your room, dude.” Your face scrunched with disbelief, “I’m the one that should be hiding.”

“No, yeah, right.” The latter nodded, pacing back and forth. “Where should you hide?”

“Not the closet,” you shook your head, checking under the bed. “I’m claustrophobic.”

“Under the bed?” Rafe suggested, eyeing the somewhat narrowed place, though it was slightly bigger than the said closet.

“Okay–” you winced as another thud erupted through the door, rushing to bend down, and slide under the bed. “Be fast, please.”

Rafe nodded, flashing you a reassuring smile before fixing up the covers, vision now glistening with dimness. You perked up at the sound of the door creaking, groaning when Ryan’s footsteps practically shook the floor. He plopped himself on the bed, with Rafe hissing at the gesture, knowing your brother probably startled you with the action.

And he did, but that wasn’t the point.

“What are you doing here?” Rafe asked, sprawling himself next to Ryan.

“I got some yayo,” Ryan whispered with a chuckle, probably already high by the tone of his voice. “Figured we could smoke it together.”

“At one past midnight?” Rafe argued.

“So what?” Ryan shrugged, ruffling his hand in the plastic bag he spread out on the bed. “You’re actin’ as if we’ve never done it before, this is not– wait, what?”

Rafe paused before responding, face turning pale. “What?”

“Is that Bug’s phone?” Ryan questioned, smile fading off his lips. “What is my sister’s phone doing in your room?”

Shit, your phone.

a/n all support is v much appreciated!! i honestly have no idea how i got this out bye literally stress wrote almost the whole thing and im surviving off three hours of sleep mind you for the past two days AND i also finished most of this on the plane so feel special... i cherish my plane rides but i put you guys first since ily 😣 that being said i spent the past like eight hours finishing it up HELP yeah sorry to disappoint mama tried her best 💔 nsfw part is not detailed on purpose i want to put my badussy for their first time yeah (it wont be explicit dw) 💪💪

taglist is currently closed, however, in order to stay tagged, you must interct with the posts!

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy

#mutuals 🍰#whorelaud 💋#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #we love needy rafe #i'm on my knees

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shy2-29 · 1 day ago

Text

𝘼 𝙏𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 | 𝙡.𝙝𝙨 [𝙢]

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: there are 4 more days until Christmas, and both you and your boyfriend Heeseung are invited to Jake, (Heeseung’s friend)’s early Christmas party. Everything seemed to go smoothly until a certain someone shows up, causing you to storm out of the party, away from Heeseung. It’s been 3 days, and Heeseung hasn’t talked to you since. Tomorrow is Christmas and all you’ve done is lay in your bed. Will Heeseung do anything about it? Will your Christmas be saved?

word count: 4.6k

theme: angst, fluff, sfw

authors note: yes I know Christmas passed but.. ugh I just couldn’t resist🙃 anyways this took me two days so pls reblog to show support :) e/n stands for “exes name” btw. Sunoo and Jake are side characters in the story. Reader calls Heeseung ‘Hee,’ sometimes. First fanfic and im new to tumblr so gimme some time 😭 sorry I posted it earlier than intended, I have 0 patients 💀

warning: ‼️ not proof read, crying, swearing, cheating kinda, pet names, reader starves herself, but that’s rlly it but if there’s anything I missed, please lmk ‼️

requests: open

As you walk into the party with Heeseung, you can feel the stares coming your way. Jake, Heeseung’s closest friend, eyes your matching Christmas sweaters with a smirk. "Looks like the couple of the hour has arrived," he teases, noticing the red, sparkly antler headbands you are both wearing. "You two make a pretty cute pair with those holiday outfits."

Heeseung rolls his eyes at Jake’s teasing and tries to defend himself. “It was her idea, not mine,” he grumbles, motioning towards you. “She’s the one who picked out these ridiculous sweaters.”

Jake chuckles and leans against his table, looking you up and down. “No kidding?” he says with a smirk. “Looks like your girlfriend has good taste. I like the antler headbands.”

Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh. “Can we please change the subject?”

“What, do you not like it?” You pout, clinging onto Heeseung’s sweater, seeking his reassurance.

He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his face as he looks down at you. “Of course I like it,” he assures you gently, patting your head. “I was just annoyed by Jake’s teasing. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

As the knock on the door echoes, Jake quickly opens it to reveal a stunning figure - e/n. She exudes elegance with her long, silky black hair and flawless skin.

Heeseung's heart skips a beat as he lays eyes on her. It has been quite some time since they've seen each other in person, and despite the occasional texts, his heart does a little somersault. He quickly tries to hide his reaction, but he can feel the curious gazes of both Jake and the others, who clearly notice his change in expression.

You on the other hand, remain blissfully ignorant of who she is and the history she shares with Heeseung.

“What are you guys so shocked about?” you ask, noticing the mildly stunned expressions on both guy’s faces.

Heeseung takes a deep breath, a mix of nervousness and determination in his eyes. "e/n is...someone I’ve known for a while," he explains hesitantly, his voice betraying his emotions. "We go way back."

“Oh!” you say cheerfully, perking up a smile. “Then we should go say h— “

Heeseung quickly interrupts you, his heart pounding in his chest. "No, no." he says, his voice edged with anxiety. "You don't have to greet her."

“No Heeseung,“ you try to protest, taking his hand in yours. “A friend of yours is a friend of mine!”

Jake lets out a scoff, raising an eyebrow at your innocent demeanour. He shakes his head and scrolls through his phone.

Heeseung hesitates for a moment, his heart conflicted. Part of him doesn't want to let you approach her, knowing that seeing e/n would bring up a maelstrom of emotions for him. But at the same time, he didn't want to upset you, so he eventually gives in.

"Okay," he says reluctantly, his grip on your hand tightening. "Let's go greet her then..”

You both make your way to the entrance, slowly approaching e/n. She looks more beautiful than ever, her long black hair cascading down her shoulders. As she spots you both, her face lights up in a warm smile.

“Heeseung,” she says, her voice soft and honeyed. “It’s been so long.”

He smiles weakly, his heart thudding in his chest. “Yeah, it has,” he responds, trying to support a cool exterior. “How have you been?”

She looks at him for a moment, her eyes lingering on his face before shifting to you. Her expression softens and she smiles warmly. "And who is this?" she asks, eyeing you up and down in a friendly manner.

“I’m y/n, his girlfriend,” you reply with your usual warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you! Heeseung tells me you’re an old friend of his?” you inquire, tilting your head to the side curiously.

E/n smirks, her tone laced with an undercurrent of amusement. "An old friend, huh? Is that what Heeseung told you?"

She looks at you, her eyes flicking over your body before settling on your face again. "You're cute," she says, her voice still tinged with humour. "Heeseung really lucked out with you."

As you let out a happy squeal, Heeseung feels a pang of guilt, his smile faltering. Your innocent joy contrasts sharply with His burdened knowledge.

"Heeseung, have you been keeping secrets from your pretty girlfriend?" e/n asks.

Heeseung glowers at her, his jaw clenched. "No, I haven't," he snaps, trying to maintain his composure. "I've never lied to her."

E/n smirks, her tone suggestive. "You sure you've never lied to her, Heeseung, even about a certain ex-girlfriend?"

E/n interrupts, her smirk still in place. "He still has feelings for me," she declares confidently, her eyes flickering to Heeseung’s tense face. "Three months ago, he personally reached out to me, confessing that he still has deep feelings for me and desired to reconnect. Yet, he mysteriously omitted to mention that he was in a new relationship with you."

Heeseung can't tear his eyes away from you as you try to downplay the situation. You're being so sweet and understanding, and it only makes him feel even more guilty for lying to you. He can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, filled with shame and guilt. The room is eerily quiet, the party guests watching the tense exchange with bated breath. You can feel your heart sinking as you release his hand. “Is that true, Hee…?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung looks down, unable to meet your eyes. “It’s true,” he mutters, his voice heavy with remorse. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. I’ve still thought about e/n…even though we’re together.”

The revelation hangs heavily in the air, the room still eerily quiet. You stand there, absorbing the weight of his admission, the party still going on around you but feeling a world apart from the festivities.

The others gasp in disbelief and disapproval as Jiwon chuckles smugly. You, meanwhile, remain silent, absorbing the weight of my confession. Heeseung can't bear to look at your face right now.

You break the silence with a frustrated remark, "This is stupid." You take off your red sparkling reindeer headband and placed it on a nearby table, not wasting another moment before walking out of Jake's house.

The room is still, a heavy silence hanging in the air after the reader’s frustrated remark and their departure. The people at the party watch on with looks of judgment and disappointment, although Heeseung is too focused on the door to pay them any mind. He wants to go after you, to explain himself and try to make things right.

Jake shakes his head in disbelief, shooting Heeseung a disapproving glare. “Seriously man?” he mutters. “You better go catch up to her.”

But e/n, still firmly holding onto his sweater, has other ideas, her voice laced with a hint of possessiveness. "Don’t go after her," she says, her grip on his sweater growing tighter. "You’re not over me, Heeseung. It’s pointless."

"You're just going to hurt your little girlfriend even more," e/n continues, her voice mocking. "You shouldn't be with her if you're still not over me."

He turns to e/n, his expression hard and filled with frustration. "This isn’t about you," he says firmly, his voice low. "This is between her and me. You have no right to tell me what to do."

He can feel his anger growing at her words. But he can't deny the truth in them.

—

It has been 3 days since the incident at Jake’s early Christmas party, and Heeseung hasn’t spoken to you since. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s busy with e/n, or he’s just waiting for the write time to apologize.

Three days have passed and Heeseung hasn't spoken to you since. You're not sure if it’s because he's busy with e/n, or he's just waiting for the right time to apologize. You, on the other hand, have been inside your apartment all day, moping around miserably. You've also stopped eating as well. Sunoo, your roommate, tries cheering you up, and you still have not left your room. Sunoo knows it’s not like you to be so down on Christmas—after all, it’s your favorite time of the year.

“Come on, let’s finish up decorating the apartment,” Sunoo begs, “pleaseee, forget about that jerk! Ever since that incident happened, you stopped helping me decorate the apartment and Christmas is in less than 24 hours!”

Sunoo knows it’s not like you to be so down on the holidays, especially your favorite time of the year. Even the thought of Christmas failed to lift your spirits this time.

"Fine," you sigh, finally emerging from your room to help Sunoo decorate.

You take a moment to freshen yourself up, putting on your favorite hoodie and combing your hair. With a renewed energy, you join Sunoo in the living room.

"Hey, Sunoo," you start, looking at the growing pile of decorations. "Can we bake some Christmas cookies?"

Sunoo's face lights up at the suggestion. "Definitely, you could use something sweet huh?” His cheerful mood drops when notices your usual cheerful mood still lacking, even after getting out of your room. "Still haven't heard from Heeseung, huh?" he asks, watching you sink into the couch.

"No," you reply, pouting. "I didn't expect him to be such a jerk. Not even an apology."

Sunoo sighs at your words, a sympathetic look on his face. “I’m sure there’s more to the story than just that,” he says, trying to reassure you. “Maybe there’s a reason he’s still hung up on her, a reason he can’t move on.”

You look up at him, a bitter expression on your face. “Like what? Nothing justifies still wanting his ex when he’s with me.”

Sunoo contemplates for a moment before speaking up, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Well, have you ever asked him why he still had feelings for her?"

You shake your head, a mixture of anger and frustration. "No, why would I ask that? It just hurts more to hear the answer."

Sunoo nods, his expression understanding. "But don't you think it's important to understand why he still carries feelings for her? Maybe there's a deeper explanation behind it."

You hesitate, knowing deep down that Sunoo has makes a good point. "I...I suppose I never considered that," you admit. "But it still doesn't make me feel any better knowing he still has feelings for her. It feels like our relationship was a second choice."

—

“You fucked up dude,” Jake sighs as he watches Heeseung throws himself onto his bed. It’s been three days since the incident, and Heeseung being the pussy he is, he can’t bare to speak to you. He knows he messed up, and he keeps telling himself he’ll never be forgiven.

Heeseung groans and sits up to face Jake. "Yeah, I know," he replies, a look of guilt on his face. "I just can't bring myself to talk to her. I know I messed up bad and I'm sure she'll never forgive me."

"Come on, at least give it a try," Jake urges. "Christmas is tomorrow. Maybe you can explain the whole situation to her and tell her it was just the beginning and that you never kept contact with e/n. I’m sure she’d forgive you; you know y/n is a caring person.”

After minutes of persuading, Jake finally convinces Heeseung to call you. Heeseung hesitates, looking anxious.

"But what if she-"

"Just do it," Jake interrupts firmly, pressing the call button under your contact name on Heeseung's phone, y/nnie 💗.

—

Buzz

And another.

Buzz

"Y/n!" Sunoo calls from to you from the kitchen. "Heeseung is calling!"

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly finished your business and rushed to the kitchen, where your phone is lying on the counter. You grab it, nearly dropping it in the process, and motion for Sunoo to leave the kitchen. He side-eyes you before leaving, carrying freshly baked christmas goods with him.

You bring the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"Y/n," Heeseung's faint voice came through the other end. "Can I come over tomorrow? We need to talk."

Your breath hitches at the sound of his voice, heart thudding heavily in your chest. What could he possibly want to talk about?

—

You lay in bed, rolling over to the right side, and let out a weary yawn. The clock on your bedside table reads 8:21 am. You and Heeseung had agreed that he would come over around noon, so you still had plenty of time to prepare.

As you choose an outfit, your mind keeps returning to the same thought - did Heeseung and e/n ever meet up? Did he really have feelings for her? Your gaze lands on the hideous Christmas sweater you both wore at Jake's party. "Fuck Christmas," you mutter to yourself, heading to the bathroom to comb your hair and apply a decent amount of makeup.

You hurry out of your room, admiring the festive decorations Sunoo and you had spent hours putting up yesterday, and the Christmas sugar cookies laid out in the kitchen. Your gaze drifts to the window to see it snowing, making you squeal in excitement. "Sunoo! Sunoo, it's snowing!" you exclaim, rushing to his cozy room and shaking his tired body.

Sunoo turns to face you with a sleepy expression, his blonde hair tousled, his flawless skin illuminated by the morning light.

"Wha...?" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and looking out the window at the falling snow. "Oh, yeah, it is." He turns back to you, a sly smile forming on his lips. "Someone looks excited. Is it because you haven't seen Heeseung in almost a week?"

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings, making you jump a bit. You glance at his alarm clock—it wasn't even 9:00 yet. Was Heeseung early?

You quickly rush to the door, Sunoo behind you. The doorbell rings again as you reach the door, and you can feel your heart starting to race. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Heeseung stands hesitantly on the doorstep, looking a bit nervous and discomfited. He clears his throat and asks quietly, "I know I’m early but... can I come in?"

You open the door wider, indicating that he can enter. Sunoo, standing next to you, observes Him with an unreadable expression.

As Heeseung takes in the cheerful decor, the view of white snowflakes drifting down from the early morning sky, his eyes widen, clearly impressed. He glances down at the two bags in his hands, realizing that you and Sunoo probably hadn't anticipated him bringing gifts.

"I got you both something." He says awkwardly, holding out the bags to you and Sunoo. "Merry Christmas."

Heeseung shuffles awkwardly in place, feeling somewhat out of place as Sunoo accepts the bags and places them beneath the radiant, lit Christmas tree. Sunoo then gives you a knowing wink before disappearing into his room.

"So.." you begin, perching on the plush leather couch, your body tingling with the warmth radiating from the fireplace. Heeseung takes a seat next to you, keeping a close proximity, allowing you to feel the heat of his body. The fire in the fireplace crackles and pops as the two of you sit in a thick silence. The atmosphere is beginning to feel suffocating, so you take the initiative.

"Are you going to explain yourself or what?" you mutter, avoiding his gaze. It is difficult to look at him after the incident at Jake's place. Yet, you know you owe it to yourself to listen to him. He sighs deeply, staring at nothing in particular, clearly uncomfortable. He, too, refuses to make eye contact, well aware of the nature of the upcoming conversation. A cocktail of emotions fills him, with embarrassment and shame at the forefront.

"It's true," he begins, his voice soft and filled with remorse, "I wasn't over e/n. But I am now."

He then lifts his chin up to look at you, finally ready to speak. "It was when we first started dating. I was browsing through social media and stumbled upon her Instagram. I decided to send her a message, flirting with her occasionally." He pauses, hesitating, before continuing. "However, as I got to know you better, I fell head over heels for you. So, I completely shut her out of my life."

He’s looking at you intently now. His gaze is fixated on the side of your face, hoping that you will turn around and look at him. He hates that you aren’t looking at him, he wanted to see your expressions so he can read you like a book. He continues to speak in a soft tone, as he knows he is treading on thin ice with you.

“I swear that I wasn’t even thinking of her, and I had no intention to ever do anything with her...” his voice was even softer now as he reached out towards you. He touched your knee gently, hoping to get you to glance at him. “Please come back to me, I miss you...”

Your heart is conflicted—a part of you longs to forgive him, but deep down you know that what he did was inexcusable. Unable to admit how much you actually miss him; you utter words to mask your true emotions. "What you did was wrong… even if it was at the beginning of our relationship."

He can start feeling himself deflate with every word you say, desperation becoming apparent in his voice. “Please forgive me...” he moved his hand from your knee to your arm, gripping it gently. “i’ll do anything you need me to do... just please forgive me...”

He moved closer to you, pleading silently for you to look at him. “Please look at me. I need to see what you’re thinking and feeling. i’ve missed you so much these past few days...”

He grabbed your chin suddenly and made you look at him. He searched your eyes, desperately looking for a sign that you still had some kind of feelings for him. “don’t pull away from me please..”

The sight of him, so distraught and vulnerable, tugs at your heartstrings and tears well up in your eyes. You struggle to hold them back as you force out, “I…I’m willing to give you another chance.”

His eyes widened at your words and a look of relief washed over his face. He began to tear up himself and a small smile formed on his lips. He let go of your chin and hugged you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “do you mean it? you’ll give me another chance..?”

You hum in response, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him in closer, the tears you’ve been holding in finally spilling out.

He buried his face even deeper into your neck, his hair tickling your face. He felt your tears hit his neck, and he began to cry as well. He was finally going to have you back in his arms again, he wasn’t letting you go this time.

“As hard as it is to admit,” you say between sniffle, “I missed you so much Hee..”

He squeezed you slightly against him at your words, as if he was reassuring himself that you were really there in his arms. “I missed you a whole lot more..” he mumbled into your neck.

—

After hours spent reconnecting, catching up on the four days spent without each other, Sunoo eventually emerges from his room and joins you. The three of you settle down to watch the film, "Home Alone," as the night falls, the dark sky contrasting beautifully with the sparkling Christmas lights.

Throughout the movie, Heeseung unconsciously makes sure to physically touch you in some way—leaning his head on your shoulder, holding your hand, or resting his knee against yours. It's as if he's trying to make up for the lack of contact over the last few days.

"Hey, let's open the gifts under the tree now," Sunoo suggests, a hint of eagerness in his voice. "I've been waiting for centuries."

Heeseung laughs at Sunoo’s exaggerated statement, and he leans back from where he was leaning on your shoulder. “Alright then let’s go,” he says, standing up and holding out his hand to you.

He practically jumps off the couch and onto the floor by the Christmas tree.

—

After many minutes of unwrapping and laughter, the only presents left to be opened are the ones you prepared for Heeseung and you.

"Heeseung, it's your turn," you grin, handing him a rectangular box wrapped in red and white wrapping paper. Seeing the excitement in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

Heeseung eagerly takes the box, his expression filled with anticipation. He carefully peels off the wrapping paper, slowly revealing the contents inside. You watch as his smile grows wider and wider, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the brand-new fancy keyboard, a cool-looking mouse, and gaming headphones. You chuckle as he gazes at the gifts in wonder, clearly thrilled with his presents.

"You play a lot of games, Hee," you laugh, taking in his astonished and embarrassed reaction. You remember the times you’d just sit there in his room, listening to him game with his friends as you help clean his room, paint your nails, or whatever it is that you fancy.

Heeseung was a bit stunned at your gift, speechless for a few seconds as he just stared at the box of gaming accessories. He knew those things were expensive, and his mouth was still slightly open in shock.

He looked up at you with a smile and a slight embarrassed blush crept across his face. “You really didn’t have to, Y/n..”

Holding the box gently in his hands, Heeseung runs his fingers over its smooth edges, still unable to believe you got all these fantastic gifts for him. His heart races and he can't seem to wipe the wide smile from his face. "Okay, now it's your turn to open the gift I got for you," he says, reaching behind him to grab a medium-sized box wrapped in black and yellow wrapping paper. His smile has a hint of nervousness as he hands you the present.

Heeseung shoots Sunoo a glare, but quickly forgets about him and turns his full attention back to you as you open the envelope. He’s watching your every move intently, waiting for you to read the first card.

You happily accept the box, and your fingers begin to unwrap the paper with careful precision. Heeseung watches you intently, his gaze shifting between your face and your hands, filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. His eyes flicker back and forth as he waits in anticipation for your reaction.

As you remove the wrapping from the box, a beautiful silk pink pajama set is revealed. Your eyes widen in awe, but Heeseung tells you there's more, pointing to a small envelope inside the box.

You carefully take the pajama set out of the box, revealing a small envelope with the words “100 reasons why I love you" written on it. Sunoo tries to catch a glimpse, rolling his eyes at the sight. "Ew, you cheesy fucks," he mutters, giving both of you a playful side-eye.

Heeseung gazes at you intently, carefully observing your facial expressions as you progress through the list. He notices the surprise, then a subtle smile, and finally, a full grin once you finish reading the last reason.

Tears fill your eyes, welling up to the point of spilling over. You scoot closer to him, nuzzling your head against his chest.

"It means so much to me, Hee," you say softly.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you nestle your head against his chest, tears soaking into his shirt.

He gently rubs your back, comforting you, with one hand resting on the small of your back and the other running through your hair. "Of course, baby," he whispers, his voice filled with affection. "I love you so fucking much."

Sunoo rolls his eyes at the intimate moment and quietly takes his cue to leave, giving Heeseung the ‘you stole my best friend away from me’ look, leaving you two alone under the flickering lights of the tree.

The rest of the night was spent talking and laughing, enjoying each other’s company. And when the sky completely darkened, he carried you to his room and held you all night.

You nuzzle your head further into his chest, relishing the feeling of his fingers running through your hair. You can hear his heartbeat through his shirt, and you find the steady rhythm comforting.

Heeseung moves his other hand to your waist, intertwining your legs in his. He let out a soft sigh, feeling completely content as he held you close.

“Merry Christmas y/n.”

—

Omg I had so much fun writing this😭 lmk if you wanna be added on my tag list! My requests are open :) read my pinned post for more info

taglist: @mheretoreadff

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skittles-secrets · 5 hours ago

Note

I just wanna say I love your writing sm! 🥰 and I’d like to request hcs on how the batboys act when they have a crush on the reader, and how they work themselves up to asking them out? Tysm!

how they act when they have a crush 😯

bruce wayne

had known the feeling all too well. he'd had lots of crushes before. bruce is worried, though, because most of his other relationships ended in some sort of crazy plot twist and he couldn't handle that again. plus, he was driving himself crazy worrying.

will they not like me after they spend more than a day with me at a time? will they break up with me when they see all the kids? how can i tell them i'm batman?

he got over it though when his eldest son, dick, hit him on the back and encouraged him. "bruce, you can't keep waiting around. if you want something, you have to get it before it's gone, okay?"

so, then he wasn't so afraid of having his little crush anymore.

dick grayson

could've asked you out a loooong time ago. he has the confidence. he has the looks. he was a fan favorite in all of gotham. so why hadn't you? well, he wasn't sure if you'd go for someone like him. he didn't know of your past relationships, let alone if you'd had any. so that's how he talked himself out of it.

it was only when he caught himself giggling at your texts to him at 3 a.m. when he realized that he was down bad. he needed to confess to you. if he didn't, he'd be stuck pining after you and laughing at your texts like a hormonal teenager for the rest of his sad, sad life.

jason todd

didn't really understand the feeling at first. he didn't get exposed to crushes and those sorts of things as a child because he didn't have the luxury of elementary school. then, he spent most of his teenage to young adult years.. well.. dead, so... it's not like he could have been dating anyone then.

that's why he was so confused and nervous. why doesn't talking to you feel like anyone else? why does he mentally scold himself after every conversation for every stupid thing he said.

he realized he had to confess to you on one of the occasions he made you smile. he realized that he wanted to do it over again a million more times, because he wanted to be the one to make you smile and laugh. he wanted to be there for you while you slept, or were sad, or scared. damn.. he really likes you.

tim drake

was no stranger to crushes. he'd always been the type to look at someone and crush on them for years, never say anything, and then it goes away when he realizes that it's never gonna work out. that's what his crush was like, pining after you.

he just automatically assumed that every person he'd like would never even consider dating him. it was weird, because he's a good looking guy and there's no reason for him to think like that.

he realized that he needed to confess to you when he found himself accidentally stalking your instagram so hard he hit the first post you ever made. also, jason called him out for it in front of damian and damian is mean so he got embarrassed and flustered and decided that it wouldn't be so bad if he actually did say something to you.

thank you so much for the request and the follow! i loved this idea, and it was so fun to write. thank you for liking my writing!

#dc x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #dick grayson #bruce wayne #richard grayson x reader #bruce wayne fluff #tim drake blurb #tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #tim drake

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dawnfelagund · 2 days ago

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Back in 2019, I wrote a blog post called The Inequality Prototype. As part of it, I counted a bunch of stuff related to the Valar and looked at how those metrics differed based on gender. At the time, I thought it would be interesting to extend this work over the entire Silmarillion, namely looking at who speaks in the text and who doesn't. For Tolkien Meta Week, I began this work and am collecting my analyses related to it here. It is very much still a work in progress and will likely take me years to complete, but I'm going to post interesting data as I discover it.

This project, like all of my data projects, is available to use under a CC license for others who want to play with the data: View the data | Copy the data | Methodology, progress, etc.

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Dialogue does not occur evenly across The Silmarillion. While a little over 5% of the words in The Silmarillion as a whole are used in dialogue, this is very unevenly distributed across the chapters, with some chapters about half dialogue and six chapters containing no dialogue at all.

There is a lot more work to be done to tease out trends and patterns that might have some meaning, but just glancing at the graph above, some of those patterns do begin to emerge. First, dialogue increases as The Silmarillion progresses. In the second half of the book (calculated by chapter, not page or word count), only two chapters have no dialogue and only four chapters (inclusive of those two without dialogue) fall below the median of 5.3% dialogue. Put another way:

In the first half of chapters, 71% of chapters are below the median.

In the second half of chapters, 29% of chapters are below the median.

Why is this? My tentative theory is that we see the book moving from the realm of the mythic—from events that are passed down through the oral tradition and ancient written traditions—and into the historical, where the narrator has a greater array of sources, including eyewitness testimony, and begins to write with greater immediacy rather than the arm's-length style of myth and ancient history.

What I am curious about: As I dig deeper into these data, will I see this theory bear out in which episodes or characters/groups are granted actual dialogue? In other words, will characters and peoples lost to the mists of time speak less, as I would expect? Or will the type of dialogue (e.g., a formal speech that may have been preserved vs. an extempore conversation that would not) vary based on narrative distance? I have documented in the past that the narrator of The Silmarillion uses the "it is said/told/sung" construction more with characters who are less accessible, so there is evidence that Tolkien manipulated writing style based on what his narrators' access to various sources. Does he use dialogue similarly to communicate that "mythic distance"?

There are also chapters that are more expository in purpose (Valaquenta, "Of Beleriand and Its Realms") that do not contain dialogue. Without digging deeper into the chapters themselves, most of those without dialogue that aren't similarly expository are chapters where the material would be less accessible to Pengolodh as a narrator. Whether this bears added scrutiny remains to be seen!

Finally, in discussing these data on the SWG's Discord, polutropos noticed something interesting, which is that the chapter with the most dialogue—"Of Aulë and Yavanna," where almost 57% of the words of the chapter are given over to dialogue—was not in fact written by Tolkien. As document by Douglas Charles Kane in his book Arda Reconstructed, "This chapter is completely manufactured by Christopher, though using his father's own writings" (page 54). Where Kane usually includes a chart pointing to the source for each bit of The Silmarillion, his chapter on "Of Aulë and Yavanna" contains no such chart because, while he is able to document where ideas came from, Christopher actually wrote the chapter.

Interestingly, "Of the Noldor in Beleriand" is the chapter with the second most dialogue and, according to Kane, "The changes made in this chapter are among the smallest anywhere in the published text" (page 154). So Tolkien does sometimes write dialogue-heavy chapters—though without data to back me up (yet! it's coming!), most of that dialogue appears to come in the form of lengthier speeches, not necessarily the debate/conversation format of Of Aulë and Yavanna."

The biggest impact of the dialogue-heavy "Of Aulë and Yavanna," I suspect, will emerge as I dig more into the data on gender and who speak in The Silmarillion. Yavanna is one of the women who speaks the most in The Silmarillion, but almost all of her dialogue occurs in this chapter. If this chapter is constructed by Christopher, how does that impact the amount of speech women are permitted by Tolkien? Polutropos' observation spurred me to plan to document the source of the various dialogue sections: Are they original to Tolkien's writings or added? Kane, interestingly, is critical of Christopher Tolkien in Arda Reconstructed for what he perceives as Christopher removing women characters from the text. In this instance, we see a significant example of the opposite: a woman's role is not only expanded, but she is given an opportunity to speak.

#silmarillion #tolkien #silmarillion: who speaks?

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velvetvexations · 1 day ago

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incredible, i just saw a reblog of that "transfem headcanons are always better and sometimes transmasc headcanons actively make the text worse and more hateful" by someone i followed. funny to see discussions arguing against the post before seeing the post itself, otherwise i would have unthinkingly internalized it and felt like shit without knowing why. anyway, i unfollowed that person now. to make it worse, op tore into someone for claiming that chihiro from danganronpa is an exception and better read as transmasc... the irony is insane. yet another example besides miquella that would make the story more boring and maybe worse if transfem.

it's so disgustingly petty lmao

a lot of transfem headcanons are reaches, often "this is literally a man magically trapped in the body of a woman and he hates it and desperately keeps trying to go back to being a man" and it's FINE to headcanon characters however you want but since some people can't conceptualize being a woman as anything other than something they wish would happen to them they take characters like that and hiss if you go near them

i get the sense that there's a very specific, narrow demographic of transfems who used to buy into that reddit guy "being a hot 22-year-old girl must be like having 10 billion dollars" attitude and never really let it go. thus the fixation on "AFAB privilege". isee a similar mix of resentment and attraction from lesbian TERFs, though it comes from a different origin. and it's an attitude that can slide easily into TERFism even for cis men--just look at tatsuya ishida!

If anything the idealization of femininity a small minority of transfems exhibit when they complain endlessly about how good trans people AFAB have it would come more from dysphoria and the grass being greener on the other side. "An AFAB trans person will immediately revert to being an innocent little girl to hurl sexual assault accusations at trans women," however, is really concerning!

Regarding whether "binary privilege" exists, i am once again on my hands and knees begging people to actually look at the statistics. The US Transgender Survey and Cohnting Ourselves (from Aotearoa) are right there. And they both show that all trans people are about as badly off as each other regardless of their specific gender. Yes, there are some ways in which being nonbinary is particularly hard, such as not having a social role to fit into, I'm not denying any of that, but if you're going to call being binary a "privilege" then there needs to be a visible whole-group effect for binary people compared to nonbinary people. And there isn't one when you look at the numbers.

It's not really about non-binary people having it flat worse, more just situational complexities.

The thing about even discussing privilege (binary privilege in this case) is that so many people talk as if to have privilege means to inherently have privilege Over someone else. Like is it an advantage for me to be vaguely binary alligned enough sometimes to have a legal gender marker that is moderately less dysphoria inducing when some people are equally harmed by either? (Tbf I live in a state where x is an option, I simply do not feel safe with that 😵‍💫 (tho that does not help when nothing else other than state id accepts it)) like yeah it's a privilege but it's not privilege Over someone. It does not make me an oppressor or mean I am causing harm, which is a thing many people seem to believe, about various forms of privilege

That's a very good point, anon.

I suppose this isn’t how others I’ve seen think about it but. I’ve always just understood that you can be oppressed for being trans without your gender being affirmed. Like. The bigots understand you’re trans but that doesn’t make them think of you as your gender it makes them think of you as trans. Misgendering is such a huge part of what transphobes do and I’ve never once assumed they were like. Lying about seeing trans people that way. I don’t get acting like transphobes can see our, as you put it, soul gender.

It makes people feel better.

#transandro phobia #exor sexism #trans radical feminism #discourse

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slimybeth69 · 20 hours ago

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Que Será, Será: Part 7

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!! Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss? Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play. Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3. Chapter Warnings: nothin' crazy, just some sensual shower stuff. ANGST. SAD.

Sorry if the texting is like, hard to understand. Joel is BOLD and INDENTED. You're just regular-degular.

<- previous chapter

Series Masterlist

You slept not one wink. Not one single fucking wink and guess who slept great? Mr. Miller.

His alarm goes off early as shit. So early. You’re mad at him when he crawls over the bed and snuggles into you. Your eyes are so tired but they just wouldn’t shut. You are praying he doesn’t ask how you slept because you won’t be able to tell him not well.

“Mornin’.” He kisses the back of your shoulder gently. He can go kiss bricks for snoring as loudly as he did. Morning? Like you weren't up all night? Okay.

“Morning.” You’re so short with him and you don’t even mean to be.

He notices immediately. This must have been a common issue in his past relationships or... he hasn't fucking had any, or he dated deaf women.

“Snorin’ all night?”

Oh. So he knows? Cool. Didn't wanna warn you about it? Get you some ear plugs? Awesome.

“Yeah, kinda.” You roll over and lay on your back beside him, he’s on his side, looking down at you.

“Sorry ‘bout it.” He mindlessly rubs the back of his neck before he leans down and kisses your forehead gently.

Suddenly all the anger is being melted away. All gone.

“You don’t need a fan to sleep? You just sleep in the dead quiet?” You blink up at him tiredly. Just tired. No more mad. He's so handsome and he has sleep still attached to his voice so it's deeper.

“I can fall asleep anywhere. Doesn’t matter.” Joel chuckles softly. “I didn’t think y’cared ‘cause y’never complained or nothing when I stayed at your place.” Joel slides the hand that's not supporting his head across your stomach over the t-shirt he gave you last night. “Sorry. I keep ya' up all night?” He feels bad, but…you don’t care that you didn’t sleep. If this is how he’s gonna wake you up every morning? Shit. You’ll get a sleeping pill or something. Ear plugs. A fan.

“It’s okay.” You’re the one smiling stupidly now. Grinning up at him like no ones ever touched you anywhere ever before (not like this, they haven't). “I don’t care.” Your hand mindlessly rests on the one he has on your stomach, he keeps moving both of them slowly.

“What time ya gotta work?” He asks softly.

“Eight. What time you gotta go in?”

“Whenever I want.” He grins at you and leans down to kiss you softly. “Do you gotta shower before work?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Yeah, I usually do. I brought stuff to shower here if that’s okay?” You’re talking to him like he’s going to say no. He just asked if you needed one.

You don’t like how nervous he makes you, not at all. But he is already climbing out of bed and pulling the covers off of you.

“It’s only six thirty…Do you want this old man to make you come before you go?” He whispers down to you softly, his hand inches down towards your center. You nod. “C’mon. Follow me.” He is already headed into the bathroom.

You scramble out of bed, grab your little shower bag and follow him. He’s already getting the water turned on and ready. and it’s incredible. The inside is… big. For what reason? There's two fucking shower heads in here–two! No fucking way.

“You did this bathroom?” You ask as you climb in before he does. Getting naked was so easy. So fast. Two things.

Now, this is the most naked you guys have been around each other and you might end up just calling out of work. You’re going to stay in here with him all day. You've seen him naked when he showered in front of you last time you were here. But now you get to touch him.

“I did… y’impressed?” Joel smirks and turns on the other shower head.

“Shut the fuck up. Different temperatures?” You eye him suspiciously because who is he? How did he do all this.

“Yeah. The ex’s request. For no reason. We never did this.” Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you under the water with him. Lil colder than you’d like but that’s fine, still warm. You’ll heat your side up perfectly when he’s done kissing you.

His morning breath isn’t bad and you wonder what god sent him to this earth. You know your morning breath is, and he’s kissing you anyway. He might be a god, honestly.

Joel's tongue slips past your lips and he licks at your teeth and the inside of your cheeks. It's a deep, desperate dance of open mouth kisses as his hands roam across every inch of you he can reach.

You mewl when his fingers and hands cup and grope your tits gently, his palms rubbing across the nipples teasingly as he moves his hands around the curve of your breast.

“How you want me t’do it?” Joel looks down at you with water dripping all out of his facial hair and his hair is so wet. Fuuuck. Okay. Play it cool.

“Fuck me.” You whine up to him quietly but he snorts at you and shakes his head quietly. “Whyyyy?” You cry softly but with no real tears or sadness. This is a fun lil game– for right now. It will not be if he keeps this up forever. You’ll revoke your offer.

“Oh are you gonna complain ‘bout it?” Joel narrows his eyes on yours but his smirk never leaves. You freeze. “No. Yer’ not.” Joel decides for you. “How do you wanna come? Mouth? Fingers? I could use the shower–”

“What?” You blink.

“What?” he blinks back at you.

“The shower? How–” Joel answers your question and removes the shower head from the holder. There is another shower head still going. This is just an attachment appaenrly. You wonder if this was something his ex-wife requested as well and wanna throw up. But then he does a thing and the shower attachment comes to life and spurts and sputters. “You never had one of these?” Joel ask, twisting the dial around the nozzle. So many different setting. Regular shower head. A fucking super concentrated jet of water that if Joel tries to put anywhere near you… you’ll never speak to him again. It's like a fucking pressure-washer. No. Not that one. Then one that just is fucking… looks broken. What the fuck? Just dribbling out? No pressure? Who uses that one? It makes you actually upset to see that because it’s actually pointless.

“No. Just a regular, boring shower.” You’re staring at the attachment in his hand and then he finds the perfect one.

Like a fucking lawn sprinkler. One quick, short, fast little blast of water. Not nearly scary as that fucking jet stream. Jesus. Joel already knows that this is the one. Which makes you mad but you have no time to question how he knows the perfect setting before he’s kicking your legs apart. The shower handle is behind held only inches away from your already buzzing and throbbing clit.

Dear God.

It is a leg crumbling pleasure that almost drops you to your knees because you’re not expecting it. Joel grabs you under one arm and pulls the shower attachment away.

“Good or bad?” Joel needs to know.

“G-Good. D-Do it again.” You can barely comprehend how you've been shower handled into stuttering.

What just happened?

Before he does it again he has you place your hands on his shoulders for support- ya know in case ya fucking fall over. What the hell did you get yourself into with this man?

“Keep goin’?” Joel holds the shower head so it’s massaging the front of your thigh and even that feels fucking amazing. Oh god. He could do this all over your body…and then you could do it to him.

“Pleeease,” you whine, holding onto his shoulders.

Joel kisses you again in a slow, searching-for-something embrace as the short, fast bursts of water find your bundle again.

Holy shit.

You can’t even kiss Joel back anymore. He licks at the inside of your mouth while you vibrate against him. It’s incredible and so fucking amazing and almost too much…so concentrated.

You move your hips back and forth to give it some rhythm and that-- well that's just amazing.

The moan that gets pulled right out of your chest is filthy. It's a sound you've never made before, not with Joel, not on your own. You're embarrassed as soon as it leaves you.

"Oh ya' fuckin' like that?" Joel moves his wrist in a small circle, the stream of water focused solely on your clit. "Say my name," he growls down at you.

There is apparently nothing to be embarrassed of, Joel loves the enthusiasm.

"Daddy," you mewl up to him as he leans in to press his forehead to yours.

"S'my good girl," Joel snakes his free hand around the back of your neck and holds you-- grips you-- so you look up at him. He crowds you in the shower, his whole body towers over you. "Ya' s'fuckin' cute. Love watchin', baby."

Everything feels like it's being swept away, pulled out from under you. There is a tautness in your belly and it's threatening to snap.

You clench your eyes shut at the rapture inside of you, but it’s short lived. The water between your legs is gone. “What!?” You exclaim, snapping your eyes open to look at Joel.

“Yer gon’ look at me when you come…” Joel whispers softly. “I wanna see ya… been relaxed ‘bout it… not anymore. I wanna see them eyes when you fuckin' come,” Joel leans down and you right between the eyes. “You want Mr. Miller to make you come now?” He whispers it against your forehead, and now your knees are weak for a whole new reason.

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Please make me come.” You whisper into his chest. Joel doesn’t hesitate or make you ask again.

The water and the pressure and everything are back. Right where you want it and you start to move your hips again. His shoulders feel so fucking strong under your hands. His skin? Fucking smooth. Like, incredibly smooth and soft.

Shit. That water is hitting you in all the right spots and leaving you almost breathless.

“Good?” Joel pulls his lips back from your forehead and looks down at you. You’re already looking up at him, nodding. Unable to speak. “I bet it does. Y'ain't gotta ask me to come…yet. Just gotta look'it me f'now." He rumbles deeply, leans down to kiss your lips, and is met with a moan, a real one as the water touches you in all the best fucking ways. It’s warm like Joel’s mouth. Fuck. “Yeah, lil girl. Move them fuckin’ hips.” Joel is looking down between the two of you and sees your body undulating at his watery command.

“Feels s-so good, D-Daddy,” You sound come-stupid already… but you’re close. He’s pushing you there. Pointing over your shoulder which way to go to feel good. You’re so thankful for him ‘cause you did not know where to go. "Yes. Y-Yes. P-Please keep going..." Fuck, your legs are already trembling and you can barely think.

“I love makin’ you moan and feel good," He growls down to you and that just pushes you right to where you wanted to be.

You stare at him and try so hard to get your words out before it actually happens.

"You'regonnamakemecome,” you spit it out quickly as all one big word.

Joel is grinning, and nodding his head softly like he’s giving you permission even though it was going to happen regardless.

“Ohgod-- Ohgod-- Ohfuck-- Fuck! Mr. Miller!” Each exclaim followed by a gasp for as because you are moaning, so loud.

Joel’s eyes are lock onto yours, never leaving as you come. You barely blink. You’re hypnotized by him. You feel too good and your hips are doing things they’ve never done before. Moving in ways they’ve never twisted and turned while rolling them back and forth. You gush and it’s the first time you’ve done that standing up so, it does make your knees buckle but Joel has you. Had you the whole time. “Ohthankyou.ThankyouDaddy.Fuuck.”

It's only whimpers and whines as he holds the water to you as the orgasm disperses and now you’re left with now just mind buzzing and jolting electric shocks of too much pleasure. You’re twitching with each one and Joel is smirking down at you as you stare up into his big brown eyes. He pulls the shower head away and kisses your lips.

“Good?” He smirks and lets you go gently, making sure you’re on your feet and not going to fall. You got it. Can’t fucking think straight…but you can stand. Joel replaces the attachment and gets right to showering. You’re still swallowing hard, standing there. Breathing heavy. You have to move. Have to shower. You have to work.

“Are you…good?” You ask Joel as your body remembers how to move again.

“Whaddya mean?” Joel asks as he washes his hair and beard. You also start to wash.

“You don’t need to.. Ya know?” You nod down to his very obvious erection and smirk. He chuckles and rinses the suds out of his hair.

“Nah. I’ll be fine.” He chuckles and starts to wash his body with a bar of soap. You..don’t like this answer. Dunno why.

“Okay.” Is all you say though.

Why? Why will he be fine?

He finishes his shower first and leaves you in there to finish up. To overthink. Shit. Okay. No. You're not doing that. No way. Things are fine. You think and hope and pray to Satan because, fuck. Why didn’t you do something with that big swinging thing between his legs while he was working on you? Idiot, too focused and selfish to worry about Mr. Miller. Sonofabitch.

He’s gonna hate you.

Nooooo, you don't want that. You… kinda like him, actually.

Humph— No you do not.

You get out of the shower angrily… like you have a right to be. You grab the towel Joel hung up outside the shower for you and dry. Fast and angry.

You go into the bedroom where Joel is already pulling on a black t-shirt over his head; you only catch the last glimpse of his beautiful, sculpted back before he's fully dressed.

You both are quiet as you finished getting dressed. You bring your little make up bag back into the bathroom and brush your hair and your teeth.

Joel comes in while you’re trying to put on mascara. He reaches over to your mirror and presses a button on the side and all the lights come on.

“That better?” He smiles at you goofily. So stupidly.

“Why wouldn’t you let me touch it!? Why are you fine?” You do not keep your composure at all.

“Uh– wha– I–.. I would’a let y’touch it. I get why y’didn’t but— we gotta work now. Don’t really got time.” Joel snorts nervously and shrugs his shoulders.

Oh.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” You turn to him and feel stupid, of course. “I wasn’t even–” Joel doesn’t let you finish.

“Hey… I’m not mad ‘bout it. I’ll get through the day jus’ fine.” Joel smirks and gives you ass a soft smack. “Make it better fer’ when I see you again. More.” Joel smacks your ass again and then starts to brush his teeth.

“I’m still sorry. I was distracted and not thinking.” You feel goofy for being so upset. Jumping to conclusions.

“Listen Birdie, you ain’t gotta apologize. M’not mad. I wanted to make y’come before you went t’work. I don’t normally…do that…to myself before work.” Joel shrugs his shoulders. “Makes me tired.” He smirks and cleans his graying beard up with his electric razor. “I was tryin’ to distract ya.” He adds when he turns his razor off. “If I needed you to touch me…I’d tell ya. I didn’t need it.” His reflection is talking to you through the mirror. You’re standing behind him, done getting ready minus the wet hair.

“You’ll really tell me?” You double check to make sure he isn’t lying to you.

“T’be honest… if we were already in that situation… and I know ya wanna…I'd make ya touch it.” He winks at you through the mirror and puts on deodorant and then he turns around. “Never gonna force you… unless you wanted me t’force ya…know what m’sayin, baby?” He leans against the sink and crosses his arms over his chest.

Fuck. He’s… fuck. Nothing. He is nothing.

“I would try that sometime.” You smirk at him– can’t fucking help it. Just happens.

“I wanna be th'one ya' try it with.”

“Ok.” It comes out short and fast and excitedly. Joel chuckles. He pushes himself off the sink and walks to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yer’ real fuckin’ cute. Makin’ it hard t’wanna wait.” He leans in and kisses you softly.

“How long you gonna make me wait?” You ask tentatively. Joel shrugs his shoulders.

“I ain’t gotta time frame. Jus’ want it t’feel right n’ make you comfortable…” Joel kisses you again. “Give ya a lil confidence so yer’ first time is real fun. Yer’ a lil-cute-shy-thang sometimes…” He murmurs against your mouth and, now you’re never leaving his house.

Never. He’ll have to call the police. There will be a domestic disturbance here if he makes you leave.

“Okay… ” You’re officially obsessed with him. You could kick your feet and hug your pillow and literally giggle. Giggling. Oh god. This is bad. You just got a cat!

“Fuuck. I wish we didn’t have t’work.” Joel groans and so do you but you are going to be late if you stay here any longer.

Joel walks you downstairs with your bags in his hands like the most perfect, handsome gentleman that he is. You love this. Never want it to end. It’s all happening…he puts your bags in your truck, opens the door for you. Stands by the open door when you’re in so he can kiss you. Then he says goodbye and shuts the door and you have to watch him walk back into your future house without you.

UGH.

This is getting out of hand. Out of hand. No. You’re not doing this– he is twenty years older than you. He has been married, and has a daughter your age. He is NEVER going to introduce you to her. He’d probably be so ashamed… oh god. Okay. No. Don’t do it. You buy yourself another overpriced coffee as a treat, for nothing.

You’ve done zero good things today so far. Neglected your ‘has-yet-to-fuck-you' buddy this morning. Got all pissed off about that for no reason. Now you’re making up scenarios in your head.

Gotta call Patti tonight after work. Maybe on the way home even. Fuuck. Okay. Shit.

Thank god you got that coffee. You needed it because it's so busy. So busy all day for no reason. So many people all buying dumb, stupid tools you know nothing about.

There isn't much you know about home improvement, but the things you do know, you can list off on one hand.

Screwdriver. Hammer. Nails. Shingles. Saw.

Boom! Done! Did it!

Fuck this job.

You stand in the back room and just give the wall that faces the sales floor the finger for a solid thirty seconds. It does the trick and makes you feel better. A little.

It’s almost time to go and you snuck away for a lil break. Haven’t had one all day. Bullshit. Okay. It’s not that bad. The day went by real fast. Just… hate looking at fucking tools all day. Bleh. Rather be lookin’ at Joel if you’re being honest which you know you are. So. That’s fun. You check your phone for the first time today. Three messages from Joel. Two from Cody. A voicemail. One missed call. From Cody. You call him back before anything.

“You workin’?” Cody sounds distressed.

“No, I’m home.” You lie so that he will just tell you and not wait until you’re not at work.

“Okay. Listen t’this. Sam is being admitted into a mental health rehab here in Munich for a while. Carson n’ I are gonna stay close by in an AirBnB or whatever. You good out there? Need any cash or anything? Truck good? House good?” Cody needs to get off the phone and honestly so do you, but you have so many questions.

What the fuck?

‘She’s okay, right?” You ask nervously. “She didn’t do anything stupid, Cody... did she?”

“No. Fucking dumbass. She’s fine. Sad. Real sad. Maybe not fine but she didn’t do that. Her doting husband is helping, asshole. Are. You. Good?” He asks again because he is clearly busy.

“I’m fine. I’ll call you later or call me or something I dunn-” Cody hangs up on you like a dick but you get it. He’s probably dealing with shit. Fuck. Thankfully she is somewhere people can help her. You can’t imagine not being able to get help with that. S’gotta feel hopeless. Joel’s messages.

Better have a good fuckin day brat… ima be thinkin bout you

Shit. Okay. He is so cute. Fuck. The next one.

i'm thinkin bout you right now. when i can see you again?

Oooooooh. Oooooooooooohhhh. Okay. You’re fineeeee. The last one says.

tonight maybe? I can come to you.

OH SHIT. He likes you too! OH. OH. This is so good. Such good news.

He sent those messages hours apart, which means he thought about you multiple times during the day.

You have to sigh. A big deep one. A happy one. You’ll still call Patti when you get out of work, but for a different reason. This could be the start to your first real relationship, and it's with a decent man.

How exciting!?

Work is expecting you back (they didn't ever expect you to disappear), so you'll just call Joel when you get home. There is only an hour left of your shift and it goes by fast.

Unfortunately for you-- Patti isn't the person you call to tell your good news to.

It's the police, and you have no good news for them.

Someone broke the window to Cody's truck and took your ‘spend the night’ bag with your laptop in it.

There wasn't anything incriminating on that laptop, and it's not like they could get into it easily. It's password protected. There's that feeling of 'nothing-can-ever-go-right' feeling creeping up in your stomach as you explain what happened on the phone to the dispatch person on the phone.

The laptop wasn't your whole life, it's just an electronic-- but you did use it every single day. To read your fan fictions, and your murder blog and to video chat with Cody and Carson.

You just want to cry. There is broken glass all over the seat and floor of the truck, and the police officer is very nice and tries to help you get it all off before you climb in and start the annoying drive home with no window.

As if your day wasn't bad enough, when you open the garage door to park the truck inside, there is a mountain of stuff you have to move so there is room. It's not like the truck would get stolen if you left it in the drive way, but with your luck? You're not taking the risk.

It takes you almost forty-five minutes before there is a space large enough for the truck.

There's an excessive amount of tears the entire time.

You finish and head inside, and about to get in the shower when your phone rings. You answer without even looking at the screen.

“S’wrong with you?” Joel doesn't give you time to say hello and he sounds upset. “Mad at me or something’? I thought we were good when you left t'day. Th'fuck is wrong with you?”

You groan loudly- you forgot to call him or even text him.

Why is he being so unforgiving!? He doesn't even know what happened, and he's going to make you start crying all over again! Even in this state, you know what it feels like to be ignored, and to overthink, and to have the worst thoughts running through your head.

Now you feel bad for making him worry, even if he is being an asshole.

"N-Nothin's wrong w-with me," you sniffle in an attempt to try and keep your composure, but it's a sad attempt. "I just h-had a b-bad day. I'm sor-sorry." The words are choked on, and it's very obvious that you're trying to hide your tears from him.

“What're ya' cryin' for?” Joel sounds much less mad. “S’wrong, lil girl?” He coos to you through the phone.

You whimper, and feel like an idiot, unable to speak.

"Baby girl..." Joel trails off like he's in physical pain at hearing your discomfort.

The shower is still going in the background, and now you're just sobbing against the sink, completely naked.

What a humbling experience.

"Were ya' 'bout t'shower?" He asks softly.

"Yeah," you whine out softly. "S-Sorry--"

"Hey, shhh, s'okay, s'alright. Get in the shower, get nice 'n clean. Relax. Calm down a lil, and call me when ya' get out, 'kay?" His voice is so soothing and it makes you feel so much better than when you had originally answered the phone.

"'Kay," you sniffle and wipe your nose, nodding in agreement, even though he can't see you.

"I'm gon' talk t'ya real soon, baby girl."

You hang up because the tears continue to come even now, when he's being so sweet and nice to you.

You don’t even know why you’re so upset.

You have the money to do both things… fix the window and get a new computer. It’s just all your extra money– saved money. So, that’s fun and it just feels like you can’t catch a break.

It’s always been like this.

You spend longer crying in the shower than you would like to admit. It felt good though. You get out of the shower and are puffy and red faced from crying. Of course. You dry off and go to get pajamas on before you call Joel. When you do he doesn’t answer. Of course. Now you’re sad again.

It’s late-ish. Almost nine now. He’s not gonna even wanna come over anymore. Fuck. You don’t even bother trying to call again in case he fell asleep or something. You read your scary blog on your phone but it’s not the same and you just get more sad.

The TV is good for Jersey Shore reruns. That’s it. You need some good Ron and Sam drama. Need it. So good (it’s not). It made for such good TV(highly toxic). It’s almost nine thirty when the doorbell rings and now you’re in attack and protection mode. You run up the stairs and fling the door open.

“Stop it.” It just comes out of your mouth before you can help it. The sigh in front of you is so perfect.

Joel has his stupid 'spend the night' bag in his hand.

“Y'don't want me to stay?” He asks nervously, like maybe he made the wrong choice coming over… but isn’t mad that you might not want him to. He’ll do whatever you say.

“I need you to stay, I thought maybe you fell asleep. You never called me back."

“I realized fifteen minutes into the drive that I left that stupid phone at home… n’ I don’t need it. Yer’ here.” Joel shrugs his shoulders. “Didn’t think ya were.. Tucks not in the driveway…”

It’s inevitable after he says that! Waterworks. Tears.

Joel doesn’t wait for you to invite him in this time. He just wraps you up in his arms. “S’wrong? Somethin’ happen? I gotta go kick someone’s ass, lil girl?” Joel sets his bag down and leads you into the upstairs living room because it’s just right there when you walk into the house and there is a couch. He sits you down beside him and brings your legs into his lap.

“Just a b-bad day.” You whimper as he rubs his hands across your thighs slowly.

“How? What's makin' you cryin’ like that?” He is so worried for you. He probably thinks you got attacked or something.

“Just a long day a-at work. Someone b-broke Cody’s truck window. Took m-my c-c-comp–” You can’t even finish.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, baby. Don’t cry. I know someone who can fix yer’ window.” Joel is working on this right now--working on solutions for you. “I’ll text ya his number tomorrow when I get my phone, ‘kay?”

“Thank you.” You sniffle and sigh loudly. “N’ thanks for comin’ over. I did really want you to come and was… a lil sad when I thought I couldn’t see you.” You whisper.

“I thought y’were fuckin’ mad at me all day.” Joel huffs in annoyance and it makes you actually laugh. “Thought y’were ignorin’ me. Spent most of the day wonderin’ what I did!?” Joel leans his body over yours so he’s partially on top of you. “I didn’t do shit.” He sneers and kisses you lips softly. “Got me actin’ all big n’ dumb,” He snickers against your lips.

“Acting?” You tease him and he pinches at you sides but you point at him in warning. “No. Tickling.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Neither of us get tickled… fair?” You try to come to an agreement on it.

“What? Jus’ ‘cause you gave up easy means I gotta?” Joel pinches and tickles at your sides anyway and has you cackling. “S’what you wanted t’do t’me last night? N’ you couldn’t. Too bad, lil girl.” Joel is growling at you as you laugh beneath him. “Might be big n’ dumb… ya know what else I am?” Joel pauses and looks down at you, waiting for a response.

“I dunno. What?” You ask breathlessly.

“Bigger n’ stronger than you.”

Then then more tickles start on your sides and stomach with his big, strong fingers.

“Noooooo. Dooooon’t.” You whine, and Joel’s fingers stop. “I haaate it.” You’re giggling even though you do not like this. It's torture.

“Okay. No ticklin’. Uhhh, you hate bein’ carried ‘round like a lil baby?” Joel smirks down at you.

You pause…having to think about it for a moment. You shake your head no up at him while he climbs off of you. Standing beside the couch, Joel scoops you– literally a swift swooping motion and he’s got you behind the back of the knees and behind the back– up to his chest. “Hey pretty girl.”

“Why’re you doin’ all this?” You sigh softly as he carries down to your room.

Joel shrugs. "I dunno. Don't like seein' you sad?"

You love that he doesn’t want you to be sad. You hate that he won’t tell you why, or that he doesn’t really know why he's doing all these things.

Sounds like a crock of shit to you. Just once-- like in the fucking movies (it's stupid, you know it, doesn't matter), you want someone to tell you exactly why they care. It's the confession, it's the desperate need for you to hear them proclaim their feelings for you.

Even though Joel hasn't done that, he’s here. So…. that might be the answer?

UGH.

It doesn’t really matter right now, Joel is laying you down on your bed and he takes two steps back and doesn't do a lil tease or anything— it’s not even a conscious thing he does, you don’t think. Joel just starts to strip. He’s unbuttoning his flannel shirt, smirking at you a little while he does it. You sit up on your elbows as he rids himself of the button up. His thick, strong fingers work on the buckle of his belt and soon he’s just in his boxers and a t-shirt and white socks which is just… ugh.

“Come here.” You whisper and Joel twists his head around like you could be talking to someone else and then looks back at you curiously and points to his chest.

“Me?” He teases and looks flustered. “Ya want me in yer’ bed?” He sounds like he cannot believe you. He’s being so fucking cute and you’re punching everyone who even comes close to him. He’s too fucking cute. He doesn’t make you ask him twice as he crawls into bed with you.

“Sorry I have just a regular sized person bed.” You whisper as he presses himself to you gently. Joel shrugs.

“I’ll deal with it.” He’s not smirking or being cute anymore. He’s so close to you and there is something different in his voice. “I like bein’ here with ya.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly… but he lingers. His mouth opens slowly, almost like he doesn’t know if should but you part your lips to let him in– graciously accept his tongue into your mouth– greedily even. He exhales heavily through his nose as your tongues touch and sinks into your mattress besides you. His whole body melts and you lean into him as his hands find your waist. “Get on me.” He growls into your mouth, tugging at your shirt as he rolls onto his back.

You get on Joel quickly and desperately, crawling to be straddling his waist and leaning over him to kiss him again. His fingers spread across your cheeks on both sides as he moves his hands into your hair so it’s not hanging down around either of your faces. He grips it gently in both of his hands as you deepen the kiss, moaning softly into his mouth. He is breathing heavily and pushing his hips up into yours as you grind down into him– feeling how excited he’s getting.

“Are we gonna?” You whisper quietly as one hand drops from your hair to between your legs. He’s rummaging around down there like he’s looking for something. He smirks against your lips as he adjusts himself to be more comfortable. Not touch your pussy or put his dick inside you.

“Nah. But I know when we are.” he whispers quietly, his lips barely moving as he speaks against your mouth. Then he sighs deeply and his other hand leaves your hair and finds your waist.

“When?” You moan softly as he starts to move your body against his.

“Soon.” He smirks. “Sit up.” When he speaks it’s not a demand or an order but he’s firm about it and his fingers dig into your hips through your pajama shorts softly. You do what he wants, and run your hands over his chest– still hidden behind his t-shirt– as he pushes and pulls your body along his slowly. You help him this time. You weren’t able to the first time he did this but now you’re not stuck and in shock on his lap. You’re ready for this and want to be the reason he comes in his boxers again. “Fuck.” Joel strains it out softly under his breath as his arms stop having to work and your hips take over.

“Do you like this?” You coo down to him, pushing your hands against his chest softly so you can lift your hips off of him lightly and with a gentle and slow sweep forward of your hips, you can push your body down against him and drag the heat and softness of your pajama covered pussy back down his shaft over his boxers.

“Jeeeeeesus fucking Christ...yes.” Joel sighs loudly as you do this. He lifts his head so he can watch where your bodies meet even though there is nothing to see. “Yer’ doin’ so good, lil girl. D-Don’t fuuh-cking stop.” You stammer his speech as you do it again, a little rougher now when you grind down into him.

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Whatever you say.” You purr softly and Joel has to close his eyes tight and stifle another moan.

“Fuck.” He snaps breathlessly as you move against him, his hands are still on your waist but they’re moving with no meaning, searching your sides helplessly as you start to lead him to euphoria– for the first time on your own and you’re excited.

“You like my young pussy on you like this, old man?” You whisper down to him and his eyes snap open and his hands stop moving and grip you tighter, he looks… a little shocked at first. “What?” You're just as shocked by his reaction.

“Dunno… say that again..” He whispers softly and pushes the hardness of himself up into you, his eyes never leave your face as you whisper it to him again, more hesitantly now because of his reaction, but your hips keep moving and he keeps bucking up into you rhythmically.

“Y-You like…m-my…young pussy—” You can’t even get the rest of the sentence out before Joel’s mouth drops open slightly and his tongue glides across his bottom lip but he stays silent, just gazing up at you with his smoldering brown eyes. “...on your big, hard cock like this, old man?” You put a lil twist on it this time and get a very positive reaction from the man underneath you.

“Fuck. Fuck." He chants quickly. "Yes I do.” He whimpers. “P-Please don’t stop.” He begs you. You almost go completely still because he’s a different man underneath you right now and you fucking love it.

“You gonna fuck my tight little pussy soon, Mr. Miller?” You lean over and watch his face, pinning him below you with your hands on his chest as you rock your hips against his rhythmically and drag a low groan from the back of Joel’s throat before he can speak again.

“So f-fuckin’ bad, lil girl. F-Fuck.” His body is quivering underneath yours. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” He begs more and it’s doing something to you.

“Open your mouth.” You coo to him and he doesn’t question you at all. While still moving your body against his, you grips his face under his chin and hold him to look at you while you work your mouth together. Joel is moaning softly, looking up at you while his body starts to twitch and jerk underneath him. His cock is throbbing already between your legs. You lean in close and spit onto his tongue.

Joel grips you tightly, closes his mouth and groans loudly, keeping his eyes open so he can look at you while you make him come. He swallows and then he talks for you.

“Fuck yeah, bad lil girl. Oh fuck. Fuck. Yer’ so fuckin’ naughty, baby. Jeeeesuuss.” He is breathless and panting those words loudly as his stiff body twitches underneath you. He holds you like that down on him– keeping you still, pushing his hips up into yours. You inch your hips forwards slightly and make him hiss sharply and clench his jaw as his eyes clench shut. “Shiiit.” He sighs softly as you lift your body off him. He lets you, his hands falling to his sides.

The room is silent besides him catching his breath. You don’t climb off of him yet, you just look down at him as he lays on your bed, his brow beaded with sweat as is the base of his neck. His eyes are still closed and he is just breathing.

“You ok? Do you want a water?” You snort softly and lean over to kiss him. His hands come to your hair again and he kisses you with those big, slippery, open mouthed kisses that feel like a tidal wave when he kisses you. Feels like you’re drowning in the best way. His tongue– fuck, is so soft and warm and strong as he slithers it around yours. He kisses you like that for only a moment before he pulls away.

“I’m good.” He smirks and his hands start to trawl up and down your sides and hips and the outside of your thighs. “How you wanna come?” He asks, nodding up at you with a smirk.

“I don’t.” You grin down at him but he frowns.

“You got me this morning. I’m paying you back now. N’ now you can be tired n’ sleep real good and snore in my ear all night.” You’re smirking harder and feel silly but he smiles now and tilts his head up to steal another, gentle kiss.

“Yer’ somethin’ else, baby. Really are.”

Joel’s snoring that night isn’t that bad with your jet engine sounding fan blasting as high as it will. You sleep fine. You just need to get one for his house… You’re trying to not…freak the fuck out? Because…this might be the first guy who you like…really start a real relationship with. Which makes you sad because…why are you just starting now? Silly. But…everything you ever did led you right here…sleeping next to Joel Miller the carpenter and the sex god. Jesus. The sweetheart. The dirty old man. Fuck. Okay. Don’t get too ahead of yourself. It’s fine. Having fun. Takin’ things slow. It’s good. Fine. You’re good.

The next morning Joel’s watch alarm goes off and you don’t want him to go. You don’t have to work today and you’d rather just him not leave. He turns his alarm off without rolling over to you and goes back to sleep. You don’t question it. The next time you’re waking up it’s him touching your stomach and thighs gently.

“Hey. Get up.” he’s shaking you gently.

“Why?” You groan quietly.

“We gotta go get yer’ window fixed.” he whispers quietly. “C’mon I’ll get you an iced coffee.” He smooches your face and you finally open your eyes. He’s changed into clean clothes and showered already. It makes you smirk and you dunno why. “I don’ gotta work today. Jus’ takin’ care of ya. S’my only job today.” He stands up and pulls the covers off of you.

“What?” The sleep is still rolling all around in your brain. “Why?”

“I dunno.” Joel shrugs his shoulders. “I don’ gotta job today. Next one doesn’t start ‘till next week.”

“No why are we doing the window?” You’re so confused. So tired still honestly.

“It’s broken, right?” He’s just as confused as you are. “Ya need t’shower? I can wait. Roll up fer’ us, if ya want.” He suggests, standing at the end of your bed. You stare at him, blinking. You rub your eyes and wipe the crusties out of them.

“Okay.” You get out of bed and shower.

Joel is going to take you to get your window fixed and get you coffee… sonofabitch. Motherfucker. He’s too good. Something’s wrong with him. Has to be. Not just him being an asshole either. He’s perfect. Why wouldn’t some hot bitch have snatched his ass up sooner? It’s too suspicious but you… don’t even really care. That man sitting on your couch– which lets not forget, is located in your older sister's basement— could ruin your entire life and you…wouldn’t care. You’d be sad about it, obviously…but he’s so hot you might thank him as walks out of your life forever. No. That’s…unhealthy. Obviously. You’re swallowing hard in the shower by yourself thinking about all of this.

Joel is waiting for you with two joints and a smile when you come out of the shower.

“I uh… took th’liberty of…” Joel trails off and looks at your bed and doesn’t say anything else. You turn to see what he’s looking at and he… picked an outfit for you while you were showering. “Hope you don’t mind. Don’t gotta wear it. I think it’s cute though.”

Uuummmm. Okay . He picked such a simple outfit. Black denim jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt. Low cut. He also picked out your undergarments. A pair of light pink cotton panties and a black bra. Fuck. He is perfect.

“I don’ wanna do it all the time… just… dunno. I was peekin’ at all yer’ stuff.” Joel smirks as you get dressed. He watches the entire time. “I do alright?”

“You did. Somethin’ I’d pick.” You try and sound not in love with him as you go to blow dry your hair and do some quick sprucing up. Whatever you’d normally do to get ready. When you walk out of the bathroom, Joel is ready– joints in hand and his cute little spend the night bag in the other.

Joel drives back to his place to get his phone, gets you an iced coffee and on the way back to your place calls the guy who can fix the truck window. When he gets off the phone he smiles over at you.

“Lucky yer’ man knows so many people. He said t’bring it over now and he’d be able to get it back t’ya tomorrow.” Joel is smiling and resting his arm on the center console, his wrist facing up. You know what to do. You scratch your nails up and down the underside of his arm. You’ve seen the scars on his arms and back before. Assumed they were from years of carpentry but…looking at them now…they’re weird. Patterned.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” You say, still inspecting the slightly raised lines of skin on his arm. More pale than the rest of him. “How’d you get all these? Work?” You ask curiously, flicking your eyes up to him. He pulls his arm away, swaps his grip on the steering wheel and rests his other arm on the open window.

“Yeahhh. Been in the trade fer’ a long time. Get cut up real good.” Joel doesn’t look at you when he says this. Doesn’t sound very genuine about it. You don’t push it because he either doesn’t wanna talk about it or doesn’t want you to know. Either way… scars are scars… you have a bunch, don’t always wanna talk about how you got them. So you respect him and let it go.

“Well, if you ever get scratched up again like that, I’ll come clean it up for ya. Take real good care of ya.” You wink at him and make him smile. Now he turns his head to take in your face.

“I’m holdin’ y’to that.” He growls and drives back to your place. You’re about to climb out of your truck when an unknown number starts to call you. You answer.

“Hello?” You’re curious.

“Hey, it’s Matt from the cat shelter…” His voice is like nails on a chalkboard and you start to shake like a leaf. Your phone isn’t on speaker but it’s not quiet. And Joel's truck is quiet.

“Hey…” You don’t know what else to say and Joel is staring at you.

“Hey…uh… Agatha is ready for you to come pick up whenever. Today or tomorrow. Whatever works for you.” He says simply.

“Oh!! Oh god. Okay! Thank you. I’ll be in either tomorrow or the day after– is that alright?” You ask less nervously now, more excited but still…don’t wanna be talking to Matt. Not in front of Joel.

“Yeah. She’ll go back up for adoption if you don’t get her by next week though.” He explains not sounding mad or annoyed that you blew him off.

“No. I’ll be there for her before then. I will.” You speak firmly now so he knows you’re not having second thoughts.

“Yeah, sounds good. Have a good rest of your day.” Then Matt hangs up. You glance over at Joel who is watching pretty intently.

“My cat.” You smile nervously at him and he smirks, shaking his head.

“You wanna go get her?” Joel asks curiously. “I’d take ya….” This is an excuse for him to go eye up Matt. See how you act around him. You know it.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind… I’d like her here and not in a small little cage.” You nod at him slowly.

“Alright. Let's go meet Matt." Joel sounds so excited.

Joel leads you to the car repair shop, Agatha’s carrier is in his backseat and you’re going to pick her up after you drop Cody’s truck off. This is the first time you’ve been around Joel and seen him interact with someone else. Joel shakes his hand with vigor when the men greet each other.

“Heyyy buddy. How ya’ been?” The taller, older man pulls Joel into a hug and slaps his back with just as much vigor as the handshake.

“Ken. Nice t’see ya man. Been good. Jus’ workin’. How’s the old lady? How’s Mags?” He asks curiously.

“Shiiit. Mags is ‘bout to be graduatin’. Headin’ off t’college soon. Goin’ to Penn State. So fuckin’ proud of her.” Ken does sound proud of his daughter. So fucking cute. You’re a little jealous but whatever. “Ole Lady? She’s fuckin’ perfect as always.” Ken smiles again. He’s kinda handsome. Older than Joel– not as handsome as him. But he takes care of himself it looks like.

“S’fucking good to hear, man. I ‘ppreciate you gettin’ the truck in here s’fast. Needed it done pronto, so thanks.” Joel tips his head to the side slightly when he thanks him. You love his little mannerisms.

“Shiit. No problem. Ain’t busy so it’ll be quick. Get it back t’ya tomorrow mornin’.” Ken nods. “It yer’ truck or the young woman’s?” Ken asks, giving you a small nod and a smile.

“Shiit, I’m sorry. This is Birdie.” He introudices you with his pet name for you and you…melt.

“Nice t’meet you.” Ken holds his hand out and you shake it.

“Nice to meet you too. Thanks for helping me out. Takes a lot of stress outta my life.” You chuckle and are very appreciative.

“Anything for Joel. Did work on my house when me n’ my wife n’ daughter moved t’Austin a couple years ago. He’s a good guy.” Ken talks him up to you and Joel’s pinky finger brushes against yours so gently it’s almost like he didn’t do it. But then he does it again. And again. Then he holds it there against yours.

“He’s alright .” You joke and rub your pinky against his as you say it and get goosebumps…all over. Ken laughs, a good laugh and points at you knowingly.

“We’d love t’stay and chat…but she’s got a cat waitin’ fer’ her at some sad shelter. We’re gonna go get her’, right ?” Joel looks down at you for confirmation.

“Sure are. Spend the rest of the day lookin’ for her, ‘cause she’s probably gonna be scared and hide.” You are excited and as you speak your excitement leaves because you know you’re not gonna see that cat once you get her home for at least three days. You researched it. She’s gonna be scared.

“Well go on then, go save that lil pussy cat!” Ken exclaims and gestures with his hands to leave. You smirk and Joel slides his fingers between yours and walks you back to his truck– opens your door for you.

“Thanks.” You smirk as you climb up. It’s getting easier now. Joel gives your ass a soft smack as you get in.

“No. Thank you. ” Joel is grinning as he shuts the door.

The ride to the shelter isn’t long. It’s close by. You hadn’t been nervous at all but now… you’re shitting your pants as you walk in and Matt is right fucking there to look at and now ‘yer’ man’ is right behind you. Matt looks confused as to why you brought him, but doesn’t… say anything weird or act out of sorts when he takes the carrier from you. He puts Agatha in there and hands it back to you.

Joel is right behind you the entire time, standing so close you can feel him breathing down your neck but it’s not bothersome at all. You like it– like how his fingers graze at your lower back under the hem of your shirt.

“She’s gonna be a little spooked for a couple days. She’ll come out n’ eat at night when you’re sleeping. Just make sure she uses the litter box within the first couple days. If she doesn’t… let us know. She’s had some kidney issues— nothing crazy! It’s why she has that special food–”

Joel pinches your ass gently. It makes you shiver before you cut Matt off.

“I know. We talked the other day about it. I’ll call if I have any issues or anything. Thank you,” You’re so polite and respectful and nothing weird happens. It’s perfect. You and Joel are walking out, Joel is about to put his hand in yours when Matt calls to both of you.

“Hope you and your dad have a good rest of the day.”

You stop dead in your tracks and look back at Matt and he’s not even looking at you anymore. He’s already walking into the back area behind the counter.

Joel does not grab your hand after that and you die inside.

The walk to the truck sure is quiet after that. Most of the ride too, minus Agatha howling like she is being tortured inside her spacious and comfortable carrier. He speaks halfway back to your place.

“Uh– so… did you have any place, uh…else ya’ needed t’go?” He asks, with hesitation all over his words.

“No… I’m fine. Thanks though.” You answer nervously. “ Sorry –”

“Nope. It’s fine.” Joel doesn’t let you finish.

“I don’t care. I know you’re not , so—”

“Yeah… but does everyone else?” Joel scoffs softly and now. You’re dead. Fully dead. A dead body with a screaming cat on her lap. Fuuuck. Joel pulls into the driveway and doesn’t move. Doesn’t turn the truck off. Nothing.

“Do you…still wanna come inside?” You don’t even wanna ask. You know he’s not going to.

“I know I said we’d hang out—”

“It’s fine. I hope you have a good rest of your day. Talk to you later.” You do not let him finish. You get out of his truck and carry your screaming cat up to the front door. Joel rolls his window down but doesn’t get out.

“I’ll call ya later, ‘kay?” He calls out as you put your key in the door.

“‘Kay.” You call back to him and slam the front door shut.

Stupid fucking Matt. Fuck Matt. And his stupid tattoos. Fuuuuck. You wanna run back outside and tell him not to leave but when you look out of the window he is gone already. You’re doing nothing to try and hold your tears back. You bring Agatha downstairs, shutting the door at the top so she can’t explore the rest of the house yet.

You get the litter box ready in the bathroom and set it out of the way. You get her fresh water and open the food you got. Angrily. All of this is done so angry. The tears you have aren’t even sad ones. They’re mad ones. You’re a woman. A grown fucking adult woman. Who gives a shit how many years there are between you and Joel? You’re both grown. Fully. No more growing left to do. Why is there an issue? Why is it weird? It’s because he has a daughter your age. Almost. She’s younger than you, yes. But not by much .

Agatha doesn’t bolt like you expect her to when you open the carrier. She pokes her little head out and looks around very curiously and takes one hesitant step out, sniffing everything. Very intently. She looks right up into your face and meows. It’s high pitched and adorable. Sounds like she says ‘hello’.

“Hi.” You sigh to her sadly. “You don’t care how old or young I am. Do you? ” You let her smell your hand and she does, for two seconds and then rams her head into your fingers and rubs her head all over you. This fills you with love and now…you’ll die for this cat. Fuck, she is perfect. Small and sweet.

The next four hours are spent playing with her because she doesn’t hide. Not one time. She eats her food and drinks her water. You show her where the litter box is, but she doesn’t use it right away. S’fine. You’ll keep an eye on it. You might keep checking your phone to make sure you didn’t miss a call or a text even though your phone is on the loudest ringer setting. You listen to your sad music and cry a little because you might have lost ‘yer’ man’ before he was ever really even yours.

You cry a lot. Sad tears now. Jersey Shore reruns don’t even help and they always do.

“ Are you friends with her? Lemme know know. Are you friends with her?.... Are you?” TV gold and it didn’t even touch the sadness inside of you. You wanna call Joel but he doesn’t wanna talk to you. Obviously. You call your job around five and let them know you’re not coming in tomorrow because of your truck. They understand, they’re not mad. They feel bad that the security cameras didn’t catch anything. Didn’t see who did it.

Joel doesn’t call you all night. The next morning he texts you.

Your truck is ready.

And gives you the address. You text him back.

Thanks.

That’s it. He doesn’t offer to give you a ride or ask how you are. Nothing. You order an Uber to the repair shop. Ken smiles when he sees you.

“Lady Bird, how are you doin’?” He asks happily. You do your best to not sound like your insides are being pushed into a wood chipper.

“I’m good. Thank you again for doing it so fast.” You smile at him half-heartedly and he gives you a small sad smile and hands you the keys.

“Don’t look s’sad. I dunno why yer’ sad, but… just don’t. Try n’ smile.” Ken offers some kind words but they do nothing.

“Thank you. How much do I owe you?” You ask, reaching for your wallet.

“Oh. Nothin’? Joel paid for it over th’phone this mornin’” Ken explains.

“Oh– okay. Thank you again.” You thank the mechanic and jump into your truck. You text Joel immediately.

Thanks. Didn’t need to do all that. I can pay you back.

You will pay him back if he has no intentions of seeing you again. You’ll drop an envelope with like four hundred dollars at his door and run away. Joel doesn’t text you back right away. You know he’s not working. Said he doesn’t have to until next week. So he is just ignoring you. Cool

Joel doesn’t text you or call you for four days. You are fuming. So mad. Not sad anymore. Rage filled. But you only text him one thing on the fourth day and nothing else.

Cool.

And then you almost throw your phone against the wall but…you can’t afford a new phone and a laptop. Not even with Joel paying for the window. Your phone dings and it’s him. Your heart flutters until you open it.

Sorry.

taglist: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux (i'll add or take you off, just let me know!)

#pedro pascal characters #smut #fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #long reads #no outbreak au

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niteshade925 · 1 day ago

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Happy (slightly early) New Year to everyone!

And also an update for my 2024 China series:

I was going to finish posting the pictures I took from the National Museum of China, however I didn't finish the Ancient China exhibition, because it was HUGE. I think basically the entire bottom floor of that museum was dedicated to this one exhibition, and we only saw less than half of it (going chronologically, we stopped and left right before the Tang dynasty section), since we had only one day planned for this museum. That was a huge mistake, and one of my two biggest regrets from the entire trip. Should have planned at least two days for this one museum.

BUT thankfully, the Ancient China exhibition is permanent! So I'm definitely going back there in spring-summer 2025 and I'm going to finally finish seeing that exhibition. I do have some pictures from the hasty visit this year, but since I am going to finish it next year, I think I will save the posts for that exhibition for next year. This means there will only be some pictures left for the porcelain exhibition (different from the Dehua porcelain exhibition, this one exhibits historical artifacts) and the ancient texts exhibition, those posts are in the works right now.

For my trip to Beijing next year, I'm also planning on visiting the Palace Museum/故宫博物院 again (aka Forbidden City/紫禁城). It's been 20 years since I last visited the Palace Museum, that was back when Palace Museum didn't have as much restoration work done or as many visitors. As a child, my biggest memory from that visit was the grass growing on the roof of the buildings.....that was strangely funny and sobering at the same time. It will be really exciting to see what has changed in this 600+ years old palace over the past 20 years.

A video of the seasonal scenery in the Palace Museum, by the Palace Museum's official channel (ugh I will be missing out on all the flowers!):

youtube

Besides National Museum of China and the Palace Museum, I am also planning on visiting other cultural and historical sites in Beijing like Prince Kung's Palace Museum/恭王府博物馆, Yonghe Temple/雍和宫, and Hongluo Temple/红螺寺. Maybe the Beijing Zoo/北京动物园 too (mostly to see the pandas lol). It's rather early so none of this is set in stone yet, but I'm definitely going to at least a handful of places.

See y'all next year (next week)!

#2024 china #announcement #Youtube

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k3nz1ekorn · 16 hours ago

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Jayvik actor au- "This isn't my bedroom?"

Shooting continues at the lot, production is finally ramping up and our beloved actors Vlad and Joel get to talk a bit more. Part 2 chronologically in the au.

Character cheat sheet: Vi-Viola, Cait-Cathrin, Mel-Miah, Savannah- Sevika, Sky- Skyler, Powder/Jinx-Piper, Ekko-Elijah

Disclaimer: I know nothing about professional acting or studios, lot setup, etc. I will not be looking things up while writing this so if you notice something is blatantly wrong leave a comment about it! This is purely self indulgent and fics will probably be posted out of chronological order in the timeline. (If I write enough I’ll make a timeline list of them tho)

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Vlad had a busy schedule. Between shooting for arcane and his other projects he was on the production lot practically 24/7 this week. It was mostly other roles he’d booked that he was shooting this week since basically all of his scenes in Arcane involved Joel, who was turning out to be quite the busy man. They’d barely spoken since their first official meeting and none of it had even been to run lines! He was a bit worried about that specifically. They were both good actors, but that on screen chemistry didn’t always come naturally. It was always good to practice, he thought as he absently massaged a knot in his thigh. It was only in these early hours that he really had time to himself, time to just exist as he is, to not think about his lines or how to say them, and especially not to think about any of his co-stars. It wasn’t that he hated them, quite the opposite actually. The ones he’d met so far he gets along with very well, even joining them for lunch when his schedule allows it. They’re people he could actually see himself enjoying the company of outside of work. He makes a mental note to invite them all out for drinks this weekend, the ones that were going to be in town for it that is. The problem with his co-stars was actually a singular person, one with striking golden eyes and a face Vlad is sure was sculpted by the gods themselves with the explicit intent to taunt him.

The brunette squeezed his eyes shut and brought his mug up off the table to take a long sip of his coffee, to distract his wandering mind. He wasn’t going to think about Joel right now. This was his me time, not fantasizing about his coworker time. He had found it too much of a hassle to make the drive back to his apartment the previous night and had opted to instead sleep in his trailer, meaning his clothing for the day were whatever he had supplied for himself when he packed the dressers before it was brought to the lot. A pair of black jeans and a thick dark grey sweater seemed to be his best options that day, it didn’t matter too much anyways, he would be in and out of costume all day anyways, this outfit was just for his meal breaks.

He was already showered and ready for the day, which he knew was going to be starting soon, it was already- Jesus 8AM? He had to get moving. He stood up as he chugged the rest of his half finished barely lukewarm coffee, rinsing the mug in the sink and moving to the table on the opposite side of his trailer to grab his script and water bottle before descending the steep ass ramp out of his trailer. Skyler should be here soon, he thought absently, should she not? It wasn’t like her to be late and call time was slowly approaching. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he let the door shut behind him, did she maybe text him and he just hadn’t seen it?

Ah. He had a few missed texts it seemed.

Displayed brightly on his screen were three texts, the first from his aforementioned assistant, saying the line at their usual coffee shop had been longer than usual and she was running a bit late, delivered maybe 15 minutes ago. Second was from Viola, a picture he’d have to actually open the message to see and the words ‘did you get it yet?????????’ received about 3 minutes ago. He didn’t need to guess what she meant as yes, he had in fact gotten it. The third text is no doubt what she was referring to, and the one that had initially caught his attention. It was from an unknown number, a simple ‘this is joel we should meet to run lines over lunch,’ and he definitely wasn’t mentally scolding his clothing choice for the day. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though as he felt a hand on his shoulder and saw two coffees on a holder come into his line of vision.

“SO sorry for running late Vlad, the line was crazy, even mobile ordering ahead of time they were just slammed.” She sounded out of breath as she spoke to him, her other hand holding the coffee lowering a bit as the hand that had been on his shoulder moved to cover her chest. She looked as professional as ever in her black pantsuit and deep red button up. Her hair was up in a high puff today, a few pieces coming out to frame her face. She moved her free hand to grab her phone from her pocket to go over the itinerary she no doubt had open. “You have a few new faces for your scenes today, some old ones too I noticed! So we should probably get you there just a pinch ahead of time. Wanna head to the set now?” She finally looked up at him as she caught her breath. Vlad was already looking at her when he opened his mouth to speak. He hadn’t thought about a response yet. She’d given him plenty of time to refocus himself and yet here he was, still reeling over a text like some teenager. He raised his phone just a bit.

“Joel texted me.” The silence was deafening. Skylar blinked once. Then twice, before finally letting a smirk overtake her face.

“Oh did he? And why are you telling me this?” Truth be told he didn’t know. Most likely because he hadn’t had a coherent thought since she got there and he’d like to believe they are at least on friendly terms by now.

“I should respond to it before we head over. It would be rude not to, no?” He turned back to his phone and unlocked it before clicking on the new number to respond, Skyler let out an amused laugh from beside him. He had to send something before he could overthink this, and fast. ‘Yes please omg’ seemed like too much, and a simple ‘Sure.’ was definitely too cold, he needed to be professional but enthusiastic about it. He settled on, ‘I’d actually been meaning to ask you the same, we will discuss further when I get to the set, yes?�� He quickly clicked out of their texts to stop himself from rereading it and opened the text from Viola instead. Texting back a quick ‘I did :3’ he looked over the photo she sent. The picture was quite cute to say the least. The camera was at a high angle, only showing her forehead and eyes at the bottom of the screen, the main focus of the photo being Cathrin and Joel a few feet away holding out their phones in front of one another. Was that a blush he saw? He quickly blinked the thought away and pocketed his phone before turning back to Skyler to let her know he was ready to go.

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Vlad had finished his second cup of coffee before they even stepped foot onto the set they’d be at for their first scene. He had to, after nearly spilling coffee on his Academy uniform earlier in the week he’d had to cut back on his on set coffee breaks. That’s actually why he was now drinking more water,.much to Skyler’s delight he may add. His cane gave gentle clicks as he moved into view of the set, a dark hallway and a door loomed in front of him, this was their scene breaking into the lab if he was not mistaken. The schedule had said all of their group scenes would be before lunch, which meant this one, the trial with the council, and the scene where they get to be hooked up to a bunch of wires. That one made him a bit uneasy if he was telling the truth, he never liked heights much, and having no experience with being hooked up like that he was unsure of how his leg would handle it. They had a fantastic team helping to make accommodations for him, but he’d had his fair share of bad experiences so it was natural to be cautious.

He was broken from his thoughts as he recognized a familiar face out of the corner of his eye. He adjusted himself to face the newcomer and gave a warm smile, “Miah! I was hoping we’d get a chance to chat before we were called to places. You look wonderful! That makeup was a great choice I must say.” His old friend only laughs in response, head tilting back in amusement before coming to embrace him in a small side hug. There was no lie, she was a vision really, in a beautiful all white dress with gold accents that perfectly matched the jewelry in her hair and makeup painting her face.

“Hey Vlad, can’t say I’ve seen the costume or makeup department make anyone look bad so far, yourself included. Did they make your moles bigger? And that vest, oh my god!” She circled him once, as if he didn’t already know how good he looked right now. “The lace up sides are a very nice touch, on both you and Mr. Torres over there.” She gestures somewhere behind him and he has to grip his cane a bit tighter to keep himself from shooting around to gawk at the new topic of their conversation. Instead he just gives a light chuckle and takes a breath to respond- “He’s on his way over.” She says glancing between him and who he can only imagine is the very man that had been capturing every other thought he’d had for the past week. His eyes crease at the corners every so slightly as he turns to look over a shoulder to greet the new addition to their conversation with a polite smile.

“Joel, how good to see you again, have you met Miah yet? She’ll be playing Mel.” It would be rude to not introduce them, he thought, especially since they’d all be filming the next few scenes together. Joel gives him a glance and turns his attention towards Miah to extend a hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, you are Vladimir's friend?” A shiver definitely does not try to make its way down his spine upon hearing his full name, and gods does he hope he’s not blushing again. The handshake, he notes, is much slower and longer than the one he had received…he tries not to read into that. He looks up at the woman beside them as their hands part, she clasps hers together in front of herself and gives a polite nod.

“The pleasure’s all mine! I was very excited to hear I’d finally be getting a chance to work with you! And to work with Vlad again too, on the same project no less. We’ve been friends since filming that weird pumpkin themed horror movie a few years back. Have you two worked together before? Vlad didn’t mention it when we went over the cast list together.” She raised her eyebrow as she spoke, her eyes pointedly moving between the two of them, as if trying to hint at something almost. It was at that moment he realized Joel had stopped nearly directly behind him, just barely off to the side enough for them to see each other's faces actually. The cough that escapes him is definitely not nervous, just a tickle is what he tells himself as he brings his hand back down to readjust his cane. He reminds himself to ask Skyler where she’d had them put his chair.

“We haven’t. I met him filming a scene earlier in the week,” the taller man’s eyes move to Vlad again, “I’d like to have a word before we’re called to places. I’ll be in my chair.” He started to turn to leave, eyes moving back to Miah, “I look forward to working with you.” And with that he was walking away. He really didn’t like letting people respond did he? Two of their interactions now he’d ended by just walking away. With a small shake of the head he turns back to his friend, who is now trying to hide some very obvious amusement. She says her next words in a hushed tone, her wrist partially covering her mouth.

“Oh my god he’s so into you.”

“He’s what now?”

Vlad’s jaw drops open and he gives the most incredulous look at the woman across from him. He turns away from her, only to look back at her completely aghast, “He barely looked at me when he was actively speaking to me just now. What about that indicates he’s into me? If anything I’d say he was checking you out!” He emphasizes his words with a flick of the wrist in her direction and tries to keep his voice hushed so nobody overhears their conversation. It is quite embarrassing to be having this conversation while at work actually, something he’d rather keep private.

“Are you kidding me? First of all,” she raises a finger up beside her head. Oh great, she’s making a list, “you didn’t see what his eyes were doing when your back was turned. Second,” another finger and a pointed tilt of the head, “he was staring me down. NOT the same as checking me out. Third,” hopefully the final finger in this conversation raises, “even if he had been we both know he’s nowhere near my type in men. Much too…stoic.” She finishes with a slight downward curl on her lips and a shake of the head before finally putting her hand down to cross her arms over each other. She glanced over his shoulder once more and her eyes just barely widened before she smirks, letting her eyes fall back to his once more. “You better get a move on with your conversation, your man keeps looking at us.” As she looks back again her eyes shift to a new area behind him and stop, her mouth forms a soft ‘o’ and a new look overtakes her and she seems to spot something else, something not Joel he decides. A hand is placed on his shoulder as she very quickly steps around him. Her next words come out quiet as he walks away. “Speaking of my type…I’ll see you on set.” He turns to watch her go with a mild curiosity, eyes following her direction of travel to the prosthetics tent where he could see a very muscular woman with a short ponytail getting pieces attached to her already augmented arm. He gives an impressed hum to himself and nods, he’d definitely have to invite them all out for drinks if for no other reason than to hear about how that develops.

He turns a bit more to face Joel’s direction and notices the other man’s eyes just barely darting down to the script he held in his hand. Vlad begins to make his way over when a very very small chuckle breaks through his lips, any previous tension about how the other perceived him already forgotten. Either he was trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably, or he could read upside down, seeing as that’s the way the script was being held. With a final few steps they’re next to each other and Vlad decides at the last minute he won’t mention the little continuity error in the other's facade.

“Eager to steal my attention eh? I already agreed to have lunch with you.” There’s a chuckle in the way he says it, something light. Joel lifts his eyes from the pages he’d definitely been pretending to read and gives a small hum. His unoccupied hand came up to smooth over his jaw and chin before he spoke, turning his head in his direction but still not fully looking at the man he’s addressing.

“We have a lot of scenes together. It seems our characters become…very good friends, by the end of the season. Over half of the dialogue I’ve read so far is either directed at or talking about your character in some way. We should discuss their dynamic.” With that he turns his head to rest it on his hand, and finally makes eye contact with the other. There’s no real identifiable emotion on his face aside from what seems to be sheer boredom. “I was told by my manager the production team wants them,” he raises his head to make air quotes with the hand he had been leaning on as he continues,”‘strictly platonic with no room for romantic interpretation,’ I assume you were told the same?” Vlad closes his eyes and he lets a little giggle slip at that, bringing the back of his hand up to cover it. He misses the way the other’s light up just a bit more at it.

“I was, yes, I assume you think we should take more creative liberties with it? You wouldn’t be talking to me about it otherwise, correct?” His hand comes back down to rest in his pocket, his posture relaxed, and he gives an inquisitive look. He really hopes he’s about to suggest what he thinks he is.

“Yes. Whether my character knows it or not, he will be in love with yours by the end of the season, and whether yours reciprocates or not is up to you.” He speaks with an air of certainty that leaves no room for discussion, luckily Vlad is already in agreement with him.

“He will. I’m very glad we had this chat actually, I had been planning on adding a level of…longing? I’m aware your character is romantically involved with Miah’s by the second half of the season, however I do love some good old fashioned, one sided, seemingly unrequited tension.” He lets his lip curl up into a mischievous grin as he looks down at the other. “It won’t be too obvious of course, just an underlying something or other to give a bit more depth to their relationship…though it does seem quite deep even without it. They become quite close, no? We should find some time outside of filming to talk, get into character a little as they say.” He’d already said he wanted to find ways to get to know him more, and he fully meant that shit. Whether the reasoning he was giving was the only reason was not important. Joel gives a hum of agreement and looks back down at his script, he’s silent for a second before- oh he’s blushing. He must have finally noticed his script was upside-down.

Credit where it’s due, Joel has a very good poker face aside from the light blush dusted across his cheeks. Vlad keeps his eyes on him as the other clears his throat and closes his script, looking back up as if nothing had even happened. The bell to signal a start rings and places are called, cutting the rest of their conversation short.

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“So far, so good.” He whispers, the glowstick just barely illuminating the lock enough for him to see it. Suddenly a bright light flows over them both, slightly startled he looks directly into it before bringing his hand up to try and deflect some of it. Blinking a few times to correct his eyes he hears a familiar voice in front of him.

“Hmm. Willing to risk exile for your endeavour. That’s quite the conviction.” It’s said with a hint of amusement. They’d filmed this scene a few times already and he felt his lack of lines right here kept making the whole exchange rather awkward. Time for a new strategy I guess.

“Councilor!” He hears from behind him. Quirking a brow up he barely listens to the continued flustered rambling, he feigns confusion and turns back to the keys still in the lock by his face.

“Wait a minute this isn’t my bedroom?” He mutters with mock embarrassment, “How could I have…” Their voices overlap for a second before silence engulfs them. He looks back up at the ‘Councilor’ and sees her fighting for her damn life to keep in the laugh that’s threatening to spill out. She’s come to expect this of him, he supposes, makes it easier to keep her composure. Joel seems as composed as ever, easily continuing on with his lines and it’s only a little disappointing he didn’t laugh. It’s almost too easy the way the rest of the scene flows from there, almost too easy the way Joel looks at Miah with such curiosity and wonder as she walks away with the security guard. Almost too easy how he doesn’t have to fake the way his lips pull up to his nose in distaste, or even the slightly annoyed huff he gives before turning back to the door, bending down to finish unlocking it as the director yells cut. They didn’t have to redo the scene again at least.

Authors note: This shit is 3.5k words and I edited without coffee. Thanks for the love so far! Glad to know yall are liking it. I'll definitely be branching out at some point to do more with Caitvi and Melvika. I'm not sorry about it.

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herpartnerintime · 2 days ago

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I’m more convinced than ever on the Safi Theory

I played Double Exposure on Bay AND Bae and took a look at the friendship texts and let’s just say, this only made me more positive of the Safi theory.

So first of all, after you tell Safi about your Bae or Bay choice, you can find her looking at a blue butterfly on her phone. Chloe has always been symbolized by the blue butterfly, Max even uses a blue butterfly for Chloe’s phone photo. Safi is clearly snooping just like Max does. But it goes way deeper. You really have to read the texts on both friendship bae and romantic bae, to first of all pick up on how things went from really good to suddenly, very, very strange very very quickly. It all starts on Valentine’s Day. Let’s start friendship bae. Max is out. She is NOT out with Chloe. She’s alone. Valentine’s Day chocolate is on sale so Max is asking Chloe in texts how much she think she can eat. Chloe realizes the time and says there was an exhibit this week and the tickets were on sale. She was going to take Max as a surprise. She’s disappointed she missed it. That’s when Max says this Well, if you want to go get up in time to get those tickets I can make that happen This is what triggers everything to go wrong. Chloe gets upset, saying she doesn’t need Max to rewind and she’s a big girl and she can live with her mistakes. Max is all like what is that supposed to mean? Chloe’s all like i didn’t mean it like that and Max is all like there’s a place on the coast we used to call home that says otherwise. Chloe then says how many times do I have to tell u that I never asked u make that choice? i never wouldve asked u to do that. I was feeling confused. Chloe gave Max the choice. Why was she saying that? She let Max choose. She didn’t try and force Max to let her die. She told her to choose. She made it clear whatever she decided would be the right choice. It felt crucial to me this was happening in texts and not in person.

Chloe agrees to Max bringing chocolate after the fight.

And remember how I said it’s crucial to keep in mind they weren’t together when this happened? Well… ”Hey, where’d you run off to?” ”my stomach was rumbling and I didn’t want to wake u ”That never stopped u before”

Chloe behaves out of character, leaves to who knows where, and declares maybe she’s turning a new leaf. She says the motel room is on your card and she didn’t want Max to be liable. Max is and Chloe are joking a bit, with Max saying “Chloe I think your phone has been hacked blink twice if you’re in trouble.” They go back and forth and everything is pleasant. Chloe goes to bring Max gooey butter cake and ribs. Max is like Okay I didn’t mean to Wow me that fast. How did you pull those out of your ass immedately? Chloe is like I knew you’d want me to bring you something and I’m very good at google. Max tells Chloe she’s the best and she’s oddly like ‘yeah… I’m really something” And yeah that’s that. The next time Max hears from Chloe, it’s a post card break up.

Again, weird how this happens when they’re apart isn’t it? Now on romantic bae? Max is again up early. They are apart, Max went to a cute coffee shop. She wants to live with Chloe here. Chloe is all like ‘u askin me to move in with u for good? On VALENTNE’S Day? Max is shocked it’s today. She didn’t know. Chloe isn’t sure. She thinks it seems final. It’s a weird reaction, given they already do live together.

Chloe then out of nowhere asks Max if she’d just rewind until she said yes.

Max is shocked. She says she could never and how could you even ask me that? This is time for you all to remember. On Friendship Bae, Max brings up using her powers to get Chloe tickets. Max…or someone impersonating Max… is planting the idea in Chloe’s head Max is still using her powers in such a careless way. This feels very clear to me, as Max says in the game both in her own thoughts and to Safi she has NOT touched her powers since the storm. If Max HAD been been using her powers, or been okay with still using them, Chloe’s feelings wouldn’t have taken her by surprise but it is very clear Max is very blindsided by this, by Chloe questioning her, distrusting her. It’s very clear in her response, how shocked she is, how hurt, that Max has not been using her powers, which again begs the question, who is? Who is causing all this distrust?

On the romantic Bae, just like the friendship Bae, Chloe disappears on Max. Max again comments this isn’t like Chloe not to wake her. Chloe says she is turning a new leaf. The same convo happens basically, Chloe ends up getting Max some food and says I’m really something when Chloe says she’s the best… and then she dips out. Here’s what I want you to focus on. These strange interactions happen when they’re APART.

Or if they happen in person, Max has no memory. The Lis2 photo.

When Max looks at the photo of her and Chloe, she thinks about how she’s happy to remember the photo, but NOT the blow out fight they had afterwards. Why can’t she remember anything about that fight, only the photo itself?

And speaking of photos, how come she looks at the Joyce photo and thinks about how Chloe never looked at her the same upon finding out Joyce died? Chloe knew Joyce died. She gave her the choice, she comforted her with that gentle smile when they left the town. She knew Joyce was gone… Who planted that idea in Max’s head?

Ideas are being planted in both the heads of Max and Chloe, things that aren’t true, but somebody is causing it. Who? Let’s talk about Safi.

Let’s talk about Safi knowing she’s a shapeshifter, knowing we can’t trust her, and knowing things go out of nowhere weird and funky with Max and Chloe, and get a load of this.

Picture it. I’m sitting in President Fayyad’s office on my first day, and in comes this girl in acid wash jeans and a Dolce and Gabanana jacket. She says hi to me like we’ve been best friends for years, reaches over the President’s desk and snags her keys and announces she’s “taking the car and her too.” They then go out and have ice cream together.

Isn’t it interesting Safi acts like they’ve known each other for years right away? Isn’t it strange considering they both have powers? What are the odds? And what are the odds Safi would show up, literally lay eyes on Max and be like let’s go for ice cream??

This entry tells us something too ”When I met Yasmin Fayyad at my show in Boston I had no idea she was the president of a prestigious liberal arts College, she was just some hot older lady who seemed to really want to be my friend.” I think Safi was being her mom here. The wording is to odd, why would she want to be Max’s friend? Yasmin might want Max at Caledon because of her talent, but the wording of really wanting to be my friend sounds more like Safi… Max even thinking Yasmin is hot feels weird, but may make sense if she’s really Safi… Safi needed Max at Caledon. But why?

Now let’s talk about the weird threesome thing, where Chloe shocks Max by suggesting they have a threesome with a guy. She’s joking, but the vibe feels odd. “You’re MINE, bitch!” That does feel like Chloe, but I feel sus of this moment. Every moment has to count of what they include of Max and Chloe in the journal, so WHY THAT? I think that wasn’t Chloe in that moment either. It was Safi. Safi was somehow aware of what Max was, and was lurking, trying to figure out how to get to her, get her away from Chloe. On Bay, Max is alone and isolated. On Bae, she’s not alone. That’s a problem. A big problem. Safi would have to get to know her prey, slowly and surely. Chloe would be a threat, a threat that needed to be taken care of the way Safi knows how. But Safi didn’t know about Max’s powers! And why would you trust Safi, after what she did to Gwen? After what she did to Robbie? Her desire for revenge on Lucas was justified, but the way she went about it revealed a dark side. She was willing to hurt a child she had even babysat and been close too, willing to hurt him to hurt Lucas. She was willing to frame Gwen. And let’s talk about the storm. Let’s ask why Max killed Safi. We never found out why, since Max refused to do it, but a Max out there was willing to do it. Why? If this theory is true.. it is not hard to guess why Max may have killed her… did a Max realize her plan? What was the third timeline in the polaroids Max can find? Let’s think about how Safi… she seems remorseful one moment for the hurt she’s caused, then she’s speaking of how she and Max could be gods. Her masks slips, and she reveals what she truly wants. Her and Max. Side by side. What she wanted all along? Whatever Max decides, Safi leaves. And a Chloe text comes… one that feels oddly out of character in that Chloe should be way more worried, but a text I question, was that Chloe? Or Safi? The game isn’t over yet, is it? For Safi, it’s only just beginning.

Wake Up Neo - She’s been possibly Photo Resetting Max

We haven’t talked about another very crucial detail yet. Max keeps waking up… Before you choose Bay or Bae, Max wakes up literally.

The same way she wakes up when she alters a photo and her present changes and adjusts. Well, well, well. Would you look at that. Safi snoops in Max’s wallet…. and suddenly… Max wakes up. Did you catch that little detail? It’s all I’ve been able to think about.

Safi looks in Max’s wallet. Sees the Lis2 photo. Max wakes up.

We don’t know… Safi’s power, what happens when she shifts into someone with powers? Can she use them? Did Safi focus her way into the photo as Max, cause a fight, which is why Max can’t remember, then the past was altered and Max’s present altered. Is THAT why Max wakes up before THAT choice? You may ask what this means for the Bay ending, but there’s many possibilities. With the future having two timelines and a third timeline, time is getting all messy even before Max in the game officially experiences it herself.

I still have so many questions. I don’t know if I’m right. But something in me tells me this break up was not what it appears. I even wonder if there was a time loop happening, over and over, with each new loop Safi managed to erase away more of Max and Chloe’s past until only one photo remained on Bae? Or is that the result of Safi as Max altering Max’s past with her photos over and over? With it likely Bay and Bae either merged with Dead and Alive timelines or will merge soon, time could be messy and disjointed as well. Safi has been messing with time a LOT which could explain the storm.

Max wakes up a few more times like this, suggesting more of her photos are being altered. Safi is trying to force Max to move on from Chloe.

I know a lot of fans in their hurt and anger over the break up may dismiss this. I’ve been feeling a lot like Alderman as I feel like I’m losing my mind as everyone denies what I see in front of my very eyes. If they wanted to break the girls up, they could have made the journals and texts totally different, but they made them as strange as possible, they truly made it feel like Max and Chloe were being impersonated at different points, all with the goal of isolating Max and getting her alone at Caledon, with Safi ready to be Max’s ‘new’ bestie.

You know, on both friendship and romantic bae, it’s also clear they’re in love. They still sleep in bed together and they still are in love, perhaps the only difference is they didn’t get around to saying it until Safi came along… I don’t know what the future holds for Lis given recent news regarding the DE team, I don’t know if the next game was already in development and on the way or not or what happens next. But I will see the truth. I won’t let the hurt blind me. Playing as Max again felt so good, and I felt like I saw so many clues. Safi quotes Chloe… she knows so much about them both, even if she pretends she doesn’t. I think Safi wanted the storm. I know she’s up to something. She wants Max.

In both Bay and Bae, Max can find the polaroid where ‘Safi’ breaks up with Chloe as Max.. some truth coming out in the dream? Something tells me… Rihanna’s new lead role… Chloe has a lot to discover. I think she’s going to realize what happened first. And Chloe may meet up with Steph and Alex. And Alex may be the only one with the powers to stop her…

I even wonder at times if Caledon is even real. But an illusion itself, which I wonder from the music itself… sometimes I hear notes of the lis1 nightmare playing in Caledon… Is any of this real? I don’t know. I just know there’s a lot of odd things that placed together, feels sus!

Safi even writes in text just like Chloe, not capitals and she always spelling you as ‘u’ like Chloe. It’s like she’s trying to play the role of Max’s bestie… Studying Max, it makes sense she’d want to emulate the girl Max loves…

Maybe I believe this theory so hard because it has to be. My biggest fear is if this theory is wrong, I don’t want next game to fully canonize their relationship fell apart, as the idea of them canonizing that but them ‘getting back together’ upsets me as I want no part in the way their relationship was portrayed. This theory, or some kind of supernatural explanation, could save it for me. But I don’t know. I hope so badly I am right… all we really have to go on is a few tiny journal entries, texts, and a letter. But there are clues within those.

People are either accepting the break up as being done because they ‘hate Max or Chloe’ or accepting the break up because ‘not all relationships work out or last forever’ but very few are questioning the things that don’t add up or feel sus, like again Friendship Bae Max offering to use her powers for tickets, while she says and thinks in game she hasn’t used her powers since the storm and they shouldn’t be used carelessly, suggesting she was being impersonated in that moment. With a shape shifter running around, I question everything. I can’t accept anything at face value. Both Max and Chloe can come off as being impersonated, if you pay attention to the clues and context…

#pricefield #life is strange #max caulfield #chloe price

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