#guys hate it like i want to say it was an athletic article? and sometimes it’s like ‘you know how to add you HAVE to do it nobody else can’

[lubdubsworld]

⋆⋆✵ Perfect Imperfections ✵⋆⋆

Chapter 1

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

No one tells you how easy it is to imagine yourself in love with a beautiful man. Especially when you don’t have a clear understanding of what love actually is. 

When I met Jungkook, even knowing he was in love with my sister hadn’t done much to douse the flames of hope and attraction. He was a lot of things that other men in my life weren’t. Kind without being pitying. Concerned without being overbearing. He took care of me without making me feel helpless. And there was always such a thin line between these things that I found myself impressed by his ability to toe the line so well.

Jungkook took care of me without making me feel like a burden and I suppose, some part of me had assumed that this could, in due time turn into love. But I was clearly wrong.

Jungkook and Liza had been kissing in the hallway of their hotel room and someone had taken pictures. My father and his had managed to get them taken down but the news was already out, spreading like wildfire . My phone began ringing sometime around eight in the morning and hadn’t stopped. It was now a little past one in the afternoon and I felt queasy, despite the assurances that it was all being taken care of.

It was the pity in everyone’s face that I couldn’t bear.

I wasn’t hurt. Angry, yes? Upset? Of course. But I wasn’t hurt because there really was nothing to be hurt about. Jungkook didn’t love me. He was in love with my sister . He had made it clear, through his words and his actions, over and over again. At this point, I could see this debacle as nothing more than a possible way to get out of the marriage. Perhaps, my father would approve of a divorce?

I glanced at the article again.

The photo is just so annoyingly clear, I thought with a grimace. If it was a little blurry, I could convince myself it wasn’t him and her. But it was clear. That was my husband with his lips locked with my sister’s. Against my better judgment, I read the article again. It was a gossip column, of course there would be nothing good in there. But sometimes curiosity can be a persistent thing.

I felt my skin crawling as I realized that the phrases were all pretty true. There was no gossip here. Just plain facts.

And then my eyes reached the end of the article.

Of note is the fact that Jeon Jungkook’s wife is disabled and perhaps the virile young man is merely looking for pleasure he can’t find in his own marital bed.

I swallowed, quickly exiting the page and tossing the phone on the bed, away from me. I stared out of the window of our bedroom, the large doors left open to let air and sunlight in. There was a tall sycamore tree right outside out bedroom and the branches almost reached in and I stared at the rustling leaves, trying to scrub my mind clean of the words I’d just read.

But it was impossible.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. The stark difference between me and Jungkook, physically. He spent five days a week in the gym and they were right. He was a young man with healthy sexual appetites.

I’d never cheat on you. Jungkook’s voice from a week ago still echoed somewhere inside my skull.

I sighed, playing with my wedding ring.

I wasn’t a virgin when I married Jungkook. Hadn’t been one , when I got into the accident either. My then boyfriend, a tall strapping lit major had been a very sexual guy as well and our libidos had matched pretty well. But I’d been an athletic nineteen year old, able to bend like a pretzel at his whim and there was just endless time and endless stamina and just a whole lot of attraction . We had spent hours, exploring each other the way college kids do. Weekends in bed spent trying every possible permutation of sex positions and kinks and I’d discovered all the things I liked. All the things I didn’t.

But then the accident had happened and well, when you’re in crippling agony, sometimes sex takes the backseat. I’d been focused on my recovery, on making sure that I came out of this at least with the ability to walk and I’d succeeded. Burying the part of me that craved a man’s touch, it wasn’t easy but it was necessary.

And then Jungkook had happened.

Sex with Jungkook hadn’t been difficult. Not really. I wasn’t completely crippled after all but it was also nowhere near as exciting as it could be with someone who had full use of her legs. I knew that. It was kind of obvious. But I hadn’t dwelt too much on it because to be honest, Jungkook hadn’t looked like he’d minded. He had seemed to enjoy himself .

But then reading about how he probably hadn’t enjoyed it definitely stung.

Worse yet, probably half the country was reading it with me. I felt nauseous. Did no one think that they should have left the last part out of that article? It was terrible enough without adding that bit about me.

A faint buzzing made me turn to the bed.

I glanced at my phone as it rang, my father in law’s name prominent on the screen.

Showtime, I thought with a grimace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I suppose it was too much to hope for , expecting that boy  to keep his dignity. This is outrageous.” Mr. Jeon’s loud voice rang through the foyer of the house and I flinched, gripping the edge of the futon as Sana jumped a bit . She sat next to me, holding my hand carefully. Moral support I supposed but I was feeling entirely too blasé about the whole thing. None of this was unexpected, I thought miserably and I wasn’t feeling up to pretending otherwise.

“I still wish they’d talked to me about this.”

My brother in law’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back and I felt a pang of genuine sympathy. He looked wrecked and it was obvious she was in love with my sister. Resentment coiled thick and deep inside me. Resentment and envy.

With no effort at all she had charmed both the Jeon brothers, I thought bitterly.

Jeon Jihyun looked absolutely stricken at the thought of losing his wife.  

“I’ve asked Lisa to take the first flight out. She called me this morning, hysterical. It was something done in the heat of the moment. She .. She’s very apologetic. I believe her and I’m willing to forgive her. We’re…. We’re thinking of starting a family together. ” He said softly and my stomach turned.

I felt my skin go ice cold as I wrapped my arms around myself. Shivering just a bit, I lightly squeezed Sana’s hand. She looked at me in askance and I had to swallow to get my voice out, throat dry. The words made me want to retch. I could imagine how Jungkook would take this news.

“Can you get me my shawl? It’s in the green room.” I said hoarsely.  She bowed before moving away from me and when I looked back up, Jihyun’s gaze caught mine.

“This must be hard on you.” He said softly and I flushed, staring down at my knees.

“Not like I can run from it. Literally or figuratively.” I smiled without mirth.

“Jungkook is …he’s just confused. He needs some time to sort himself out. I’ve asked him to take a break and come back to Seoul after a couple of weeks. The separation would do him some good.” Jihyun said quietly and I sighed before nodding. What else was I supposed to say to that anyway? There wasn’t much I could do, my influence on things almost nonexistent at this point.

“Are you going to give the boy a break, Jeon?” My father demanded, staring at Jungkook’s father who sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get these damned reporters off our back. They’re all over the place. And yes, I think Jungkook should stay in Japan for a while.  We’re starting a new distribution branch there and I wanted him to scout places and possible vendors. I’ll tell him to hash out all the details before coming back.”

His phone rang again and he excused himself . I watched him leave the room, trying to make sense of his words.

How long would it take to build a whole branch in Japan? I had no clue. But it could hardly be done in a few weeks, could it?

“That’s.. That’s a long time.” I said hesitantly and my father frowned.

“is that a problem?” he asked.

I sighed. There was no point keeping this to myself. I was supposed to go to the doctor’s tomorrow. And well, it would be better if they heard it from me first.

“I.. I’m pregnant.” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the carpet, not able to bring myself to look up at them. I could guess, what I’d find there. It was what I always found in people’s faces.

“Oh, sweet child.” My father’s sigh made me look up and there it was. The pity. I felt sick to my stomach. Sana returned, settling the hand knit shawl over my shoulders and I wrapped it tight, before glancing at her in some desperation. She smiled reassuringly, settling next to me and gently taking my fingers in hers. The warmth grounded me for a second and when Jihyun growled, I stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m going to kill Jungkook. This fucker…” Jihyung swore and my father sighed, clearly thinking hard.

“you can’t be staying alone now.” He said softly, sitting up and cracking his knuckles, and I swallowed. I wouldn’t bear it if they tried to take me back home. I had hated it there.

“ You must come back home with me.” He said softly but I quickly shook my head.

“ No.. No I won’t. I … Please.” I begged, the mere idea of going back to my childhood home a nightmare. My mother would kill me with just her sharp and vindictive words. I was in no shape to put up with her verbal and emotional abuse. It was one of the things that had made me agree to marry Jungkook in the first place.

“Well, you can’t stay here by yourself.” My father protested. I’ve been by myself my whole damn life, I wanted to scream.

“I’ll be fine. I have Sana and the others to help me.” I said tiredly. My father shook his head before turning to Jihyun again.

“Is Namjoon still working on his book?” My father asked him and Jihyun frowned. The name elicited a tug in my memory and I turned to stare at my father, confused.

“You remember him? He used to tutor you when you were hi High School.”

I had a brief flashback to dimples and almond shaped eyes. I remembered him vaguely. Very vaguely. But nowhere well enough to want him to live with me, alone or not.  

“Dad…” I protested but he held a hand up to silence me, nodding at Jihyun .

“Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? ” He shook his head. “ I’m not sure. Why?”

“I think it would be good if he moves in here. His father was telling me that he was looking for a place to stay, now that he’s moved back to Korea. ” My father said softly, staring at me and I stiffened.

“Father…” I began desperately and my father shook his head.

“Don’t argue. He was a dear friend of yours. I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. And I think Jungkook would approve. Like Jihyun said, the kid needs some space to sort himself out. Let him finish whatever business is going on in Japan.” My father glanced at Mr. Jeon who looked at me with guilt.

“I owe you an apology , on behalf of my idiot son.”

I looked away, not sure what to say to that. I hated the man quite passionately. Jungkook wasn’t perfect… far from it. But this man had taken a sledgehammer to my husband’s mind and heart at every turn. The disdain, the condescension, the sick way he favored his brother over him, the way nothing Jungkook did was ever good enough. It had all taken a toll on my husband. I had watched it chip away at Jungkook’s self confidence, at his mental health.

“I think more than anything, you owe an apology to your son. You knew he was in love with Lisa and yet…. You forced him to marry me.” I said quietly and the room went eerily quiet. My father rounded on me , eyes blazing.

“Leah!!! Apologize, now!” He roared and I looked away.

“You’re all the same. Ungrateful and entitled.” Mr. Jeon said sharply, before turning to his son. “ I’m leaving Jihyun-ah. Tell me when that wife of yours get home. I want to talk to her.”

He shared a half hug with my father before stalking off and my father grabbed his jacket as well.

“I’ll leave as well. Your mother is being quite hysterical. Apparently, all her friends are hounding her about the article.” He sighed and I nodded , watching him shrug on the jacket before nodding at Jihyun and then following his friend out to the front doors.

Jihyun stayed standing , watching my father’s form disappear through the door before turning to me.

“ Are you alright?” He said quietly, moving to kneel in front of me. Sana stood up, bowing before leaving and I watched her disappear into the hallway leading to the kitchens. Jihyun’s fingers wrapped around mine, brushing my knees and I stared down at him.

“The question is, are you alright?” I brushed the hair off his face. He sighed.

“No. No I’m not. I’m angry and jealous and very much filled with resentment towards my brother.” He said honestly and I laughed, tugging on his hand and patting the seat next to me. He straightened before moving to settle next to me and I leaned on his shoulders, sighing as he wrapped on around me, the warmth of his body comforting .

“Are you going to give your marriage a chance?” I asked carefully.

“She told me she was going to break things off for good. We.. We’ve been talking about it. Starting a family, making this work.” He said quietly. I nodded. It was understandable. Unlike Jungkook and I , Jihyun had a responsibility. He would need a son and even though people liked to act like they didn’t care much about gender, like they didn’t care much about having children , it was sort of an unspoken rule. First son of the house ? You had to have a male heir to carry the family name.

I wondered how that conversation had gone between Jungkook and Lisa. It didn’t really match the photo I’d seen.

“I suppose Jungkook probably put up a fight. He genuinely wants to end up with her. He… He tells me often that he loves her and can’t love anyone else. ” I wondered if I ought to feel embarrassed or insulted.

But the truth was, I was numb to a lot of things that had once hurt quite a lot..

The conversation with Jungkook about my pregnancy had definitely cleared things up for me. There was nothing there worth salvaging. Chasing something that wasn’t real , that was foolishness. Especially when I had a very real baby to think about. A child that counted on me to make the right choices.

“I don’t think he did. She spoke to me last night and said that he agreed. Of course that was before the article came out. I’d like to think she didn’t lie to me but I’m not sure.”

I sighed, settling in closer to his chest. He was warm and firm, solid and reliable. I wondered if it would have been easier, if my father had just married me off to Jihyun instead. Jihyun and I …we were alike. We had been friends , even from childhood. Had watched with fond adoration as our younger siblings had fallen madly, wildly in love. Jungkook and Liza had been drawn to each other from the first. Inevitable.

Jihyun and I were more carefree. We didn’t feel things that intensely and perhaps that was why we could sit here in the calm of the afternoon air, quiet and introspective when we ought to be furious and raging.

“ Should we run off together? You and i?” He said suddenly making me laugh.

“Very much incapable of running.” I reminded him with a grin and he squeezed my shoulder .

“I’d carry you.” He said simply.

“Where would we go?” I asked curiously, indulging the fantasy for just a few minutes.

“Somewhere far away. Maybe India? There’s so many people there and we could get lost in the crowds.”

“That does sound appealing.” I smiled and turned to look up at him. His face inches from mine, not as handsome as Jungkook but strong featured and kind. “ But I’m not alone anymore. I have a child.”

His gaze dipped to my lap.

“Yes. Jungkook’s child.” He said thoughtfully.

“No. Mine. Nobody else’s . Just mine.” I said quietly. Jihyun’s gaze softened. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, echoing his father’s words.” On behalf of my idiot brother, I’m sorry.”

And where Mr. Jeon’s words hadn’t made any sort of impact, Jihyun’s made my heart clench and ache in the worst way. Self pity was something I loathed but sometimes, being handed the short end of the stick at every turn in life makes it impossible to not feel sorry for yourself.

Tears stung, welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lashes like water bubbling out of an aquifer.

I blinked slowly, not bothering to wipe them as they traced a path down my face, dripping into the fabric of my shawl. In a moment of clarity I wondered what Jungkook must be going through now. Nothing good for sure.

It definitely said something, that I still worried for him. Sighing, I let Jihyun hug me closer. I would take advantage of his kindness for a few more minutes. It had been a while since someone had held me like I mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called Jungkook that evening.

It wasn’t an easy choice but my heart ached and my mind raced with unanswered questions. I didn’t want to get lost in my own thoughts so I didn’t overthink it. We were still married. I was allowed to call him.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” I asked quietly and Jungkook’s groan made my face heat up a little.

“I… Leah?” He sounded groggy. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t late.

“Are you sleeping?”

He didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about what happened. We.. We didn’t do anything else. It was just.. it was a kiss. Just that.”

“Are you still in the hotel?” I asked quietly ignoring his words.

“ For tonight, yes. Dad wants me to stay with a friend of his. I’ll be going over to their place tomorrow morning.” He replied .

Silence followed for a few seconds.

“Namjoon is moving in tomorrow.” I said stiffly.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a minute or so.

“Yes. Father said it’s a good idea. And I agree. You shouldn’t be alone while I’m here. He’s right. Hyung’s a nice guy. He’ll help you out.” Jungkook said softly.

“Liza came home. She wanted to talk to me.” I said quietly.

Jungkook didn’t reply and I sighed.

“I told her I wasn’t going to talk to her before I talked to you. I don’t… I don’t want to say anything to her that I haven’t already said before. But I still want to know your thoughts on all this. Your plans, that is. I take it you weren’t happy with her ending things.” I said stiltedly.

Jungkook didn’t reply for a few seconds.

“Things between us ended a long time ago, Leah. It was over when we both agreed to marry other people. Maybe even before that, I don’t know… I … I guess I just didn’t want to acknowledge them.” He said quietly. “ She’s different, now. Even that kiss felt so wrong.  She’s moving on. I’m glad in a way. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone like hyung. He’s better than me in everyway and-”

God I wanted to strangle him.

“So why did you kiss her?” I snapped. “ If you’re so generously letting her go why would you…” I stopped.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. It was barely for a second.” He muttered. “ whoever it was must’ve been videoing us for a while.”

I had to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this little detail made no difference.

“Right.” I sighed. “ So, you won’t be home for a while?”

“Six weeks at least.” He said quietly.

I tried to keep the disappointment down. I still wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. But I knew that was just the pregnancy hormones talking.

“Okay.” I said simply.

“How are you? Did you go see the doctor?” He asked softly and the question surprised me. I was half sure he had forgotten.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days.” I scratched at a small stain on my skirt. Lime juice and baking soda, I thought absently. That should get the stain out.  

“Its pretty late. You should go see the doctor, Leah. I.. I looked stuff up. They say you have to be on pre natal vitamins, folic acid and iron supplements  and you have to have  a balanced diet. I called Sana earlier and told her to speak to our doctor and get a diet chart for you. She said she’ll do it soon. So , please take care of yourself.”

Jungkook sounded entirely serious and as always my brain felt muddled, unable to process why he did the things he did. He had looked things up about the pregnancy and that implied some sort of interest, didn’t it? But ….. he had also kissed my sister so what was I supposed to do with this?

“I’ll call you.” I said shakily, drained. I was done for the day.

“Right.” He said softly. “ Namjoon hyung will be there tomorrow right? Should I talk to him? He could take you to the doctor.”

“No.. That’s fine. I’ll manage.” I said quickly.

“You’re sure?” There was genuine worry there.

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Alright.”

Silence again. I exhaled shakily.

“Should I hang up?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. Good night. ” He breathed.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

Click.

I stared at the wall, gently lowering the phone and placing it on the bed next to me.

She deserves better than me, his voice echoed in my head.

Well, so did I.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon looked nothing like the twenty one year old college student I’d seen a decade ago. I knew he was a successful novelist and I’d read all his books. They were mostly philosophical or commentaries on life and emotions. I enjoyed the way he wrote : melancholic and deep but also clear and easy to understand. It was like staring at a particularly deep pool, being able to see all the way down to the bottom because of how clean the waters were. But once you put your feet in, the depth  always surprised you.

“That’s a lot of books.” I laughed, gripping the edge of the door frame as I watched him stumble under the weight of a crate full of bound books. Namjoon’s messy brown hair peeked over the top, and when he adjusted the huge load to stare at me, I caught sight of his handsome face stretched in a dimpled grin, eyes glinting.

“Research.” He grunted, straightening himself up and I watched the flex of his muscles as he carefully moved to place the crate down in one corner of the large bedroom that I’d had cleaned for him. It was on the west wing of the house, parallel to my own bedroom that I shared with Jungkook . Namjoon had spent three years working as a professor somewhere in Indonesia. And I knew that he’d spent a year backpacking all over Scandinavia. I stared at his tall strapping figure, watching him set up his writing space carefully, sorting out boxes and electronics.

He had driven here in his Range Rover and I knew all his clothes were still there in the back of the car.

“Should I ask the footmen to get your clothes?” I asked and he glanced up at me, frowning.

“Footmen?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

“Namjoon…” I said chidingly and he grinned again.

“I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich. Makes me wish I should have beaten Jungkook to the game and bagged myself a rich wife.” He winked. It was a joke but there was no mistaking the hint of interest in his eye. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. Being married to Jungkook had definitely made me question the attraction I held for men so it felt good, having someone as handsome and whole and successful as Namjoon look at me like that.

“I’ll ask them to get your clothes. You should shower and settle in. We’ll meet for dinner tonight.” I said quickly and he nodded.

“You’re going to be okay heading back to your room? Let me know if you need help.” He pointed at my feet and I nodded. It was sweet of him to offer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was surprisingly not awkward at all. Namjoon had a lot of interesting stories to share and I found myself clinging to ever word in rapt attention. He spoke about all the folklore he’d run into in different places, how he thought that no matter the culture, there were always some common things you could find in every one of them. He also talked a little about his next book, which he hadn’t named yet.

“It’s about second chances. Forgiving and moving on.” He said, taking another bite of his braised pork and moving to make another lettuce wrap.

“ Heavy stuff.” I said thoughtfully. “ Most of my writing is commercial. I just try to sell stuff to reluctant people. It’s not much but it keeps me occupied and it’s always nice to make money that you can call your own.”

“It’s because you don’t write for yourself. When you start writing for yourself, you can truly be who you are.” He said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

My writing in college had been vivid and bright and filled with life. But after the accident, it had turned grey and gloomy. The words seemed to drip with loss and longing and  I didn’t enjoy it, because it was a reminder that I was no longer the vibrant, attractive fulsome girl I once was.

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” I smiled. “ Being who I am. I would rather pretend I’m at least a little alright.”

Namjoon stared at me, thoughtful.

“You used to run track.” He said softly and I grinned.

“You remember.” I said, pleased.

“Of course I do and you were captain of the volleyball team as well. You used to organize all those hikes and treks and stuff.”

“Yes I did. I loved the outdoors.” I stared out of the window.

“Loved? Past tense?” He tilted his head. I stared at him, shaking my head.

“What kind of question is that.” I shook my head. “ Look at me. I’m not trekking anytime soon, considering how the last time ended.”

“You can still go out.” He frowned. “ When was the last time you went somewhere?”

I shook my head.

“Oppa…”

“Listen. You know me. You’ve known me for more than a decade. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you rattle around this old house like a ghost when you should be out there taking in all the sunshine you can get?” Namjoon placed his chopsticks down and linked his fingers together, staring at me.

I stared at him, and it was definitely there. The concern, the affection. Not that different from when I was sixteen and struggling to understand what pathos meant.

But now there was a definite undercurrent of attraction. Back then it had been childish, the wild crush of a teenager on her hot tutor but now, now I knew that he was so much more than just a hot guy.

“I’m pregnant.” I said softly, more a reminder to myself than anything else.

Namjoon grinned.

“We’ll steer clear of horse riding and alcohol. Anything else you can just let me know.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I think I’m getting one now.” I deadpanned.

“Because you’re nervous.” He grinned.

“Because your dimples look too adorable.” I retorted.

He laughed.

“I’ll talk to Jihyun and we’ll go see your doctor first. Then we’ll go out and have  a nice picnic.”

“Namjoon, I can’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said firmly.” You don’t know if you can or can’t because you’ve never tried. Listen I love picnics and I love going out and I want company. I’m agreeing to be stuck with you for a while and the least you can do is  give me company at a picnic. You know how big a loser I’d seem like if I went by myself?”

It was like I was sixteen again getting brow beaten into things by a tutor who just hated the idea of not getting his way. I shook my head fondly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fourteen weeks. Three and a half months.

I stared at the ultrasound, feeling a multitude of things, not all of them good. The baby was growing well and I had all my prescriptions filled. Namjoon had offered to come with me but I had refused. It was too intimate and he was still a stranger. I did take a photo of the ultrasound and sent it to Jungkook.

/Jungkook called me back almost at once.

“You went to the doctor?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Were you running?” I asked, surprised.

“Not really. I’m supposed to be meeting one of the vendors for lunch and I thought I could walk to the restaurant but its farther than I thought.” He huffed.

“Everything’s fine. Baby’s due in July.” I said quietly.

“Summer. That’s good.” He replied. “Right?”

I hesitated. What did that mean? What did it matter when the baby would be born?

“Because winter would mean it being too cold . Summer we can take the baby out and stuff without worrying too much.” Jungkook said softly.

Oh.

“How’s work?” I asked awkwardly. The non conversation was getting tedious. There was just so much to talk about and it was obvious that both of us weren’t in the mood to actually ask or answer anything worthwhile.

“Did dad say something?” Jungkook asked quickly and I frowned.

“No. Why?”

“He wants me to join hyung in the corporate office. Leave the smelter units.” Jungkook sounded subdued and upset and I felt sympathy well inside me.

“Join him? As what?” I asked quietly.

“Head of the marketing department. I’ll be reporting to Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook had clearly started walking again, breath coming in little exhales.

“You don’t want it?” I asked confused, not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“I mean… I have a degree in Business and Finance. Hyung’s the CEO , I was hoping I’d be the CFO.” Jungkook sighed, “ But I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t disown me altogether after what happened earlier.”

I stayed quiet and so did he.

“We need to talk . When you get back. You … I know you don’t like sharing about what you feel but you owe me an explanation.” I said firmly.

“I know. But I meant what I said when I left. I’m going to be there for you and the baby. You’re still my wife. That’s not going to change.”

I ran my fingers over the ultrasound.

“Did you also mean the part where you said you can’t stand me.” I said bitterly .

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“I… You know I didn’t. That was just something I said on impulse. I’m sorry. You’re… You’ve been nothing but good to me. And honestly, just the fact that you’re carrying my child is proof that I can definitely stand you.” He sounded just a little hoarse.

I bit my lips, staring up at the door when I heard a knock.

“Leah? I’m going to have some tea in the garden … You wanna come with?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the room and I froze.

“Oh.. Oh.. yes. I’ll be down.” I said quickly, nodding . Namjoon pointed at the phone and gave to thumbs up before moving back out.

“Was that Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook’s voice came over the line.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, he’s… he wants me to have tea with him in the gardens.” I said awkwardly.

“That’s nice.  You should go. Get out of the house once in a while.” I didn’t know what to say to that so I stayed quiet.

After another minute or so of silence, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“ I got that form you sent in for me to fill, about my medical history. I’ll fill it up and mail it to the doctor’s office. Is that alright?” He asked hesitantly. “ If not I can fly back home. If they need me in person or something.”

I frowned a bit.

“They don’t need you in person, Jungkook of course not. Mail it, that’s fine.”

Another pause.

“This is really happening huh? A baby. We’re having a baby.” The exhaustion in his voice was palpable and I wondered.

“Yes. We are.” I said simply, not having anything else to elaborate on. It was happening. I was torn between pleasure at having something to look forward to and guilt at forcing Jungkook into a role he wasn’t ready for. But , for better or for worse we were married. The child was his. It would be a Jeon.

“ I’ll do better.” He said quietly. “ With the little one. I’ll be better.”

Tears these days, sprung up out of nowhere I thought miserably, furiously swiping at my face.

“Leah?” His voice came over the line. “ Leah are you there?”

“I need to go.”

“Alright.”

“Take care of yourself too, Jungkook.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loneliness .

It’s such an odd sort of feeling. Sometimes you get used to it so much, that you forget all about it.

It stays , a part of you that doesn’t make much of an impression on you until one day, suddenly it becomes unbearable,

Until you get a glimpse of what it’s like to not be lonely.

And then suddenly it’s like a deep chasm of longing and desperation just opens up inside you, craving love and warmth and company with a hunger that feels like it can never ever be satisfied.

I’d never paid much mind to the fact that my life revolved around myself, my writing and the flowers in the garden. Not until Namjoon had come, demanding to be felt and seen and heard .

 Namjoon hadn’t joked about not letting me rattle around the house. Our days were spent sprawled on the lawns of the Jeon estate, each of us occupied with our own writing . Namjoon typed away on his laptop while I preferred my leather bound notebook. It was oddly soothing, lying there on the clean cut grass, the sharp blades rubbing against my bare legs, as I leaned back against a tree trunk, watching Namjoon’s furrowed brows as he wrote.

Namjoon had changed in a lot of ways and yet he was still somehow just as I remembered, focused and often lost in his own head. He was a contemplative man and seemed to spend as much time reading as he did writing.

“There’s a poetry club that meets every Tuesday in Gangnam. Would you like to come with me?” He asked casually, about a week after he’d moved in and I considered it. The paparazzi had finally stopped hanging about the estate and Jungkook had called the previous night with a ETA for when he would be back.

Four weeks at most, he had said firmly and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling all that excited for his return anymore. Days spent with Namjoon were more exciting. He included me in every little thing and I was addicted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was probably wrong. Namjoon was sweet and kind but I was still married. But on the wake of that thought came the bitter reminder that there was nothing between Jungkook and I. He was in love with someone else. Why should I deny myself the joy of Namjoon’s company over a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship at all.

Namjoon treated me as an equal, teased and flirted like there was nothing wrong with the two of us living like this, together and away from the rest of the world and I liked it. It made me feel like perhaps happiness wasn’t such an abstract, unreachable thing after all. That perhaps I could find happiness like this. In friendship and mindless conversation with a man who didn’t see me as a burden.

“I’d love that.” I said with a smile, letting my fingers knit together with his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Scorned wife getting even? We spotted the recently cheated on Mrs Jeon getting cozy with a strapping, buff hottie in a private restaurant last Friday and we can’t help but wonder if perhaps the reclusive lady is trying to get back at her husband by flashing her own boytoy.” Namjoon read cheerfully from his phone, looking way too entertained as he showed me the zoomed photo of us holding hands over the dinner table .

“That’s quite the description they’ve put for you.” I grimaced, sipping my chamomile tea slowly. My father and Mr. Jeon had reacted with their usual anger, threatening to sue the gossip rag for libel but it was pointless. They would keep being intrusive rats. There was nothing much to be done beyond enduring them.

“My agent’s losing his mind. He’s been at me trying to get me to agree to book signings and public appearances and he’s pissed that this is the way I get introduced to Seoul’s High society. Poor guy.” Namjoon chuckled and I felt guilt churn.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really didn’t think they’d be following me. I mean… usually they’re only tailing Jungkook but I guess with the whole thing with Lisa , they’re just looking for ways to make things worse.” I said hesitantly.

Namjoon hesitated, staring at me for a few seconds.

“We never really talked about how things are.” He said quietly. “ Between you and Jungkook, that is.”

I ran the edge of my chopsticks on the brim of my soup bowl.

“ There’s not much to say. He’s…. He’s still sorting things out. With my sister.” I smiled a little. It ached a lot less, I realized with surprise.

“They loved each other deeply.” Namjoon said softly. “ that sort of thing doesn’t go away that quickly.”

I nodded.

“Of course. And I’ve been …understanding of that. I like to think.”

“But its unfair to you. You deserve to be loved too. Fully and well .”

I leaned back to stare at him.

“Are you offering?” I laughed, teasing.

Namjoon didn’t smile, leaning forward instead.

“Depends. Will you ever consider leaving him, for me?” He said seriously.

My heart turned over inside me.

“Namjoon…” I choked out and he reached out and lightly touched my palm.

“I know how marriages work with people like you, so I think I should draw boundaries now, if I want to keep myself safe.” He smiled a bit.

“I’m pregnant. With his child.” I swallowed and Namjoon’s brows went up.

“I thought it was your child. Yours and no one else’s.”

I felt torn, staring at him and wanting to say that I didn’t consider Jungkook as the child’s father, not in the way most people did. But I also remembered my husbands determined voice, the way he kept insisting that he wouldn’t neglect the child.

“Its not about Jungkook or the child, Leah. Its about you. You married Jungkook knowing he was in love with your sister and that tells me that you listen to your parents. You don’t want to stand up against the rules set by our parents and I don’t fault you for it. But I can’t let myself fall for you, knowing you’re going to be bound by your obligations to yurr family.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” I said easily. “ You’re right. My family comes first. And whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to Jungkook for life. So don’t fall in love with me.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Alright then.”

“Do you want to move out?” I asked bitterly and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“You clearly think I’m trying to seduce you or something when really, I-“

“Hey. Hey, Leah…no. No alright, that’s not what I meant. These two weeks, it was amazing. I love your mind and you’re easily one of my favorite people on this planet. We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends no matter what but you must know why I said what I said. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m a lonely guy.” He smiled a bit, “ I just don’t want to make it hard for myself when you want me to leave.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook arrived back in Korea on a cold, rainy morning and against my better judgment I let Jihyun and Lisa drag me to the airport. It was some kind of publicity stunt, that much I could fathom but I didn’t know if Jungkook was in on it. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, he had been busy wrapping things up with the new branch in Japan.

It was another bad day for my leg and I found myself leaning heavily on my sister, her arm wrapped around my waist as we walked over to the waiting area. I could already identify a few men with cameras staring at us discreetly. Paparazzi . I saw them move their cameras down to the now obvious curve of my stomach and I swallowed. I could already imagine the articles wondering who the father was : Jungkook or Namjoon.

“You alright?” My sister asked worriedly and I nodded, not looking at her. Lisa hadn’t been discouraged by initial refusal to speak to her, keeping at it till I finally caved and let her visit me at the estate. She didn’t love Jungkook anymore, she insisted . It was over. They were over . She wanted to give her marriage a chance. Very sweet and nice, that. And it was obvious that she wasn’t lying, what with the way she and her husband kept

Jihyun and Lisa had made amends with each other and it annoyed me that they seemed to be madly in love with each other all of a sudden. Like the past couple months hadn’t even happened. I stared down at my wedding ring feeling stricken. Was it unfair that I resented them for this? Why hadn’t the two of them thought of this, of breaking things off and moving on before the damn wedding. And then maybe Jungkook and I would have had a real marriage too.

Bitter and hormonal was definitely not a good combination I thought with a wince, fingers splaying on the curve of my lower belly. It was so odd, being pregnant. The extra weight somehow foreign but also …so soothing. The last scan had shown that I had an anterior placenta and that meant that I may not feel movements for a while. I didn’t mind, having found comfort in just tracing my palm over the bare skin of my stomach.

“There he is.” Jihyun’s voice made me look up and ure enough there he was.

It wasn’t the longest we’d been away from each other and yet, I felt my heart leap at the sight of him. He truly was a very handsome man, I thought miserably. And no matter what people said, it was infinitely more difficult to hate your husband when he looked that good.

Jungkook’s eyes caught mine first and I saw the way his gaze dipped straight to the curve of my bump. Even from the ten feet between us , I saw hi lips part in surprise , eyes going wide. It probably hadn’t felt real to him till now, I thought biting my lips as he carefully handed his bags over to the two chauffeurs who had rushed to help him.

Jihyun wasted no time in bounding over and hugging his little brother tight.

I glanced at the man who had been taking photos, pleased to see the surprise in his face. Was he hoping that the CEO would punch his little brother in the face ? Idiots. Lisa stayed by my side and I exhaled shakily.

“ Dad told me something and I want to know if its true.” I said quietly.

She didn’t reply.

I took a deep breath, still watching the two brothers embrace each other, Jungkook’s face buried in Jihyun’s shoulders. I could see him shaking just a little and I felt my gut clench.

“He told me that …that you never told him that you wanted to marry Jungkook. That when he suggested Jihyun you agreed at once.”

She looked away.

“Lets talk about this later.” She said quietly.

“Does Jungkook know?” I demanded. “ Because he spent that first month of our marriage cursing our father out for forcing you to marry Jihyun. Forcing. And dad says that he did no such thing. So what is the truth.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Jungkook  knows.” She said finally, “ I told him… the truth. When we were in Japan.” and I laughed in disbelief.

“Was that before or after you kissed him?” I snapped and she looked genuinely pained.

“Leah, I never meant to hurt you or Jungkook.” She said shakily.

“My God.” I shook my head. “ I always knew you were a selfish, greedy person but I didn’t take you for being a liar and a deceitful coward. ”

She stared down at her feet.

“Yes. I’m greedy..”  She whispered “ And you may not understand it now but I did it for you and for Jungkook.”

She moved away and I watched as Jihyun pulled away from Jungkook, still holding his arm as he held a hand out to Lisa. The smile on her face seemed genuine as she took her husband’s hand and I shifted my gaze to mine. Jihyun and Lisa walked away to their car and Jungkook stepped closer to me, his face stoic and impossible to read.  

“Leah.” He said quietly, dark hair falling into even darker eyes.

I didn’t reply, merely stepping up to gently press my palms on either side of his face.

“Welcome back.” I said softly, before reaching up and kissing him full on the lips. Jungkook’s entire body went stiff as a board at the gesture but he didn’t pull away , thankfully. It felt cold and impersonal and barely lasted a few seconds but hopefully the man had gotten a few good shots. I closed my eyes for effect, running my thumb over the clean shaven curve of his jaw, before pulling away slowly.

I peered over Jungkook’s shoulder, just to make sure and sure enough, the man was moving closer to get better angles. I smiled a little. Good. That should hold these vultures off for a while. I turned back to Jungkook and his eyes followed my gaze catching sight of the man with the camera and his entire body seemed to go stiff with anger.

“Why did you do that?” He growled and I bit my lips.

“You know why.” I made to turn away but he gripped my arm, hard. So hard that I winced.

“What are you doing?” I asked panicking, glancing at the man who was still watching.

“Since when did you start pandering to those pigs?” He whispered angrily and I flinched.

“Your father wants to introduce you to the Board of directors this weekend.” I whispered quietly, “Most of them read the news Jungkook. The last news about us can’t be about you cheating on me.”

“That’s my business. And I’ll deal with it. We’re not doing this, Leah. I’m not putting on some kind of act just to please my fucking father.” He looked furious and the taut line of his jaw made me flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, guilt churning inside me. He was right. I shouldn’t have done that without talking to him about it but I knew that the scandal with him and Lisa wouldn’t go down well with the Board. And the Board generally had a direct say on who got hired to top managerial positions.

“I just want you to get that job.” I said softly and he stared at me, stiff body relaxing marginally.

“Let’s just go home. Yeah?” Jungkook said tiredly and I bit my lips.

Less than fifteen minutes since he came home and we were already at odds with each other.

The most ill suited couple in the universe, I thought with a grimace as he stepped right next to me and wrapped a hand around my waist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had a very terrible tendency to forget taking my pills. So I generally left them by the bedside table. Stepping out of the shower, I found Jungkook sitting on my side of the bed, examining the bottle carefully. I tugged on the white t shirt I had on, suddenly embarrassed because it was Jungkook’s

I’d asked to borrow a couple over the phone,  simply because I no longer fit into my own and the ones I’d ordered weren’t here yet. Jungkook had agreed but still, it felt awkward when he was wearing the exact same t shirt himself.

He turned around when I moved to the vanity to put on moisturizer for the night and through the reflection I saw his gaze linger on my attire.

“Aspirin? Didn’t know that was part of pre natal vitamins?” He said seriously and I blinked., surprised. I turned around to stare at him, licking my lips nervously.

“How much research did you do?” I asked, genuinely curious and he flushed.

“I had a lot of free time. “ He said defensively. “ These six weeks.”

I frowned, before turning back to grab the small pot of night cream from the draw.

“My blood pressure is a little elevated. My mother had pre eclampsia with my sister and they just want to be careful.”

“Pre eclampsia?” Jungkook’s voice was fraught with nervousness and I turned back to see him almost white as a sheet.

“Jungkook…I.. its nothing serious.” I said hastily and his jaw went even more taut.

“What do you mean its not serious? Do you even know what it is?” He demanded.

“Do you?” I snapped back, annoyed at being treated like I was an errant child.

“I know that it’s the leading cause of maternal death during birth.” He all but shouted and I flinched.

“Okay…that’s only in extreme cases.” I held both my hands up. “ it’s a bit too premature to be panicking over that.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, as though to argue but then seemed to calm himself down.

“When’s your next check up?” He asked casually.

“This weekend. But its okay, Namjoon is-“

“I’ll come with you. I.. I want to come with you.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, feeling too awkward to outright refuse.

“You have the meeting with the Board. This weekend.” I said softly.

“So?” Jungkook shrugged. “ I’ll just tell them your appointment and health is more important to me. Besides isn’t that what you wanted? The reason you kissed me at the airport? You want the board to think we’re happily in love. I think that would be an excellent way to show them that. ”

Jungkook stared at me , head tilted curiously, daring me to deny what I had old him myself.

Sighing, I nodded.

“Alright.” I managed a weak smile. “ You can come with me.”

“Namjoon hyung left today, you said?” He asked casually.

I nodded.

“I should send him a bottle of his favorite wine for taking care of you so well. You look good.”

“He did it because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.” I retorted, his words rubbing me just a little wrong.

Jungkook smiled although it was more of a smirk.

“I’m sure he did. But I’m here now. And I did promise you that I’ll be there for you.”

“For the baby.” I said sharply, not liking the way he looked. The things he seemed to b implying.” You promised me you’d be there for the baby.”

“And right now, said baby is inside you.” He grinned now and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight. Jungkook didn’t smile with me. It wasn’t something that happened. At all. “ So I’ll have to take care of you.”

I stared at him, biting my lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “My sister told you she never wanted you so now you want to start fucking me again?”

It was cruel. A terrible thing to say and I regretted it at once.

The smile faded.

“What?”

“ I…fuck Jungkook.” I groaned.

“is that what you think of me? Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me all those months ago? I never…. I would never force myself on you, Leah.” He looked like he’d been stabbed and I heart clenched.

“Jungkook , I…”

“I’ve been honest. Through all of this I’ve been honest to you. I lied to your sister, I lied to my father and fuck I even lied to myself. But I’ve been honest with you , Leah.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!” I cried out, despairing. “ You were in love with my sister and –“

“And she wanted to marry my brother.” Jungkook yelled, standing up and turning to me, eyes blazing. “  All along. Know what she told me Leah? That it was never supposed to be me. That five years of us being together…it was because she was in love with my brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. She started dating me to make him jealous and when she saw that I spent so much time with Jihyun she stuck around . So she could spend time with him.” He shook his head.

I stared at him, horrified.

“Jungkook….”

“I thought I could never feel more pathetic than when I stood there listening her tel me how she never felt a single thing for me. But wow…. Thank you for proving me wrong. Because right now, standing here begging you to let me a part of the child we both made knowing you only see me as some kind of pervert just looking to get into your bed….” he shook his head,” I feel worse. I feel dirty.”

My throat went dry.

“You know what?” He moved to the closet and to my horror he grabbed a bunch of his clothes and a small suitcase. “ I’m going to go get a Hotel room.”

“What? No… Jungkook, wait!” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm but he threw my hand off quickly.

“Ask Namjoon hyung to move back in. Better yet, tell dad the truth. That you think I’m disgusting. That the thought of me being in your life makes you sick. Tell him you want a divorce and-“

“It’s a girl.” I exhaled sharply.

Jungkook went completely still.

I swallowed, my heart racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and moved to lightly touch his back, fingers splaying on the broad expanse of his shoulder blade .

He turned around at that and my heart lurched at the tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked wrecked.

“ A girl?” He whispered.

I bit my lips, nodding.

“We’re having a little girl.” He looked a little shell shocked.

“Yes. And hopefully, she isn’t as dramatic as her father.” I said softly, grabbing the dozen or so t shirts he’d pulled out of the closet and pushing them back into the shelves.

Jungkook didn’t protest, still staring into space, probably just taking the news in. I felt awful for one second because I hadn’t even cared all that much when the technician had told me.

I closed the closet door and moved back to the vanity trying to process all that had been said in the last five minutes, only to feel a headache come on. I would think about it tomorrow.

I finished braiding my hair when Jungkook’s voice came from the bed.

“If you don’t want me to intrude into your space you can tell me. I’m okay with only getting information about the baby.” He said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I turned to him slowly. i took a deep breath, considered that what i was going to say would likely change everything between us. But i had to. 

I’ve always been honest with you Leah, He had said and I decided that perhaps he deserved some honesty in return.

“I think I’m in love with Namjoon.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : these two are such a mess istg. 

ooh i don’t have a taglist for this so please comment if you wanna be on it. 

[taechaos]

Blackmail

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Jimin offers you information on Jungkook, but your friendship is misconstrued by Jungkook who ends it singlehandedly with one video of you professing your love to him between moans.

warnings: dubcon, fingering, degredation, mild squirting, manipulation

word count: 2.8k

a/n: jealous kook doesn't realize he's jealous. this part is a bit extreme, so beware ><

One doesn't come across someone like Jungkook every day. It's fate that you met him in your first year of college, extending to your second where he grows closer to you; fair, it's clear that he only intends to use you for his academic success, but you've deluded yourself into thinking you're in love with each other. Growing up, you only had your dysfunctional family to teach you about how to love, how to think. As long as Jungkook needs you, he will love you, and you’re willing to do anything to be with him, only him. You need him to live.

Birds sing in the background as you lay on your stomach on the grass of the yard across the campus. It’s sunny and breezy, the perfect spring day as you work on Jungkook’s research paper due next month. You compiled multiple credible sources in a separate file to create an outline for his essay the moment he forwarded the assignment to you. You want him to praise you, pet your hair, kiss your cheek for starting so early so he can turn it in before anyone else. He would be proud, flashing you his pearly whites and adoring eyes. The reward motivates you to work harder and you’re relentlessly skimming through articles while counting down the minutes of Jungkook's lecture. He'll be outside with his friends in 7 minutes.

With a bad childhood, you don’t care to befriend many people. You only have a few friends to keep you company and you’re socially awkward outside of that group. You’re content, so you steer clear of boys who try to sabotage your relationship with Jungkook. Jimin, however, doesn’t get the memo.

Typing away on your laptop, a shadow looms over you to give you a break from the sunlight. You glance up and stop swinging your legs absentmindedly when you recognize the shadow; it’s a boy with frames and a tight collar adorning his neck.

Park Jimin is a typical nerd whereas you’re more of a closeted nerd. When you’re in love, you usually put more effort into your appearance to impress the one on your mind, but that doesn’t work with Jungkook. It’s always other men giving you their attention through second glances, and that includes Jimin.

“What do you want?” you rudely greet. Jimin is ruthless with his attempts at pursuing you; he’s the perfect gentleman, and often volunteers to do group tasks with you. He is never mean to anyone, and has a squeaky clean reputation, but his only flaw is that he can’t take a hint. You don't bother being friendly to him because you don't want friends.

"I want to know why you look so happy," he bends over to curiously glance at your screen, "while doing homework?"

You slam the monitor closed to stop his ogling. "You wouldn't get it. And stop watching me," you sternly say.

"What's your secret?" he grins and sits down on the grass next to you with crossed legs. His upper body serves as a shade and you stop squinting.

"There is no secret, I was just in a good mood until you came along." You're not upset, but you don't want to lead Jimin on and he won't leave unless you blow him off.

"Thinking of Jungkook?" he teases with a mischievous smile.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No, you're just too obvious," he chuckles, but the sound is strained. You don't notice his melancholy as he continues, "You were doing his homework again?"

You shift on your propped elbows a little uncomfortably. Jimin doesn't need to know what you do in your free time. "Yes," you answer anyway.

"You know he has daddy issues?"

Your eyes round as your discomfort dissipates instantly; he's piqued your interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, he has a tough exterior but he's actually a real softie."

An involuntary smile carves on your face before it falters as you ask, "How do you know this?"

"We went to high school together. I can tell you some stories if you want," he boasts when he realizes he has your attention. The context makes his heart sink, but when he imagines your lovesick grin is directed at him, it fills him with joy.

"Tell me, tell me! Please."

"Weeell," he draws with a lopsided grin, "don't tell him I told you this, but he used to hate girls. I don't know if he still does, but back then he couldn't even stand talking to a girl."

"Why?" your eyes are wide with interest as you whisper.

He shrugs, "No idea, but he hit a girl once when she wouldn't stop clinging onto him. Not like drop-kick her," he laughs, "he just shoved her on the ground. Be careful with him, okay? He can be very aggres-"

"You guys forming a nerd club now?"

You gasp when you hear Jungkook's voice. When you look up at him, he's almost glaring as his eyes flicker from you to Jimin. You're gleeful at his approach, because he never comes to you unless it's about a new assignment. It flutters your heart to see him without any papers in his hand.

You don't take his subtle insult to heart as you immediately respond, "No, we were just talking. H-Hi."

"Pull down your skirt, you look like a whore. I can see your panties all the way from the gates," he seethes in distaste. You instantly sit up with a blush and tug your skirt down to your knees. He looks back at Jimin who's glaring at him under his lashes, "The fuck's your deal?"

"Nothing," Jimin grits. Although he hates Jungkook's guts, he's too smart to fight a lost cause. He has his own set of muscles, but it isn't enough. It's best to accept defeat now.

"Did you start on the paper?" Jungkook asks you.

"Yes, I-"

"Good," he cuts you off and crouches to peck your lips by pulling the back of your neck. You're stunned when he pulls away and nonchalantly walks off to his friends.

Jimin follows him with his eyes and mutters under his breath, "douche."

Your heart is racing and you clamp a hand over your chest as a lovestruck smile spreads across your face. You know this is your end of the bargain, but it never fails to shrivel you up in delight.

"Are you two dating?" he mumbles as he pulls on the grass with a pout.

"Something like that," you exhale as you caress your lips.

It’s become routine to link up with Jimin where he reminisces his high school memories and you don’t doubt a single word he says unless it sheds a bad light on Jungkook. You’ve learned so much about him in the past few days, and you’re eager to know more. He likes energy drinks to this day, he was athletic in school and often got into fights. He began interacting with girls when he entered college, as Jimin says, “only for a quick fuck.”

Though it hurts Jimin that you only talk to him for information on Jungkook, he can’t bring himself to care when you hang onto every word he says with a glint in your eyes like you’re doing now.

You're sitting in the bustling cafeteria across from Jimin, sipping on a homemade strawberry lemonade from your thermos, and you don't notice Jungkook glancing at your table every now and then. It is the first time he doesn't feel your heavy gaze on him. Jimin does notice however, because he is facing him every time he receives a threatening ferile look.

"He could become a lawyer with how much he blackmailed the teachers to give him a good grade," Jimin tells you as he glances back and forth between you and Jungkook. "He's quite dangerous, you know. He's manipulative, a liar and has no empathy-"

"He's clever," you counter defensively, "he knows how to get around the system."

He makes a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat with a grimace. "I don't think the judge would listen to that."

You laugh at his comparison of the conversation to a court hearing. Jimin can be funny sometimes, and you have to admit that he's not that bad of a friend either. You've come to enjoy his company without the topic of Jungkook the past few days, but talking about him is always appreciated.

"Are you the judge then?" you cheekily ask.

"I might as well be, since I'm not biased like a certain someone," he teases with a grin.

"A lawyer has to see the bright side of things, but if I was the prosecutor, I wouldn't tell you that your lecture is in five minutes."

His smile falters as his eyes widen; you remember his schedule? He ran late for a lecture yesterday, but he’s in disbelief that you reminded him today. "Th-Thanks," he breathes as he packs up his belongings before giving you a curt, shy nod. His heart pounds when he walks away, and he resists the urge to look back at you.

It's a good idea, because that's when Jungkook settles down on his former seat.

"I'm thinking you might be forgetting who you belong to," he starts as he gets comfortable on the stiff chair. You instantly smile at his appearance.

"No, I'm very well aware of it." Your tone is high-pitched in excitement.

"It wasn't a question."

"Oh..."

“You talk more than you work,” he observes with a quirk of his brow. “One would think another nerd would be a better influence on you.”

“I work at night,” you defend worriedly, “I promise I’m not slacking off. Can I get a kiss please?”

You’re so adorable when you’re needy. He hides a smirk with a bite of his lip; he thrives from your loyalty to him, but he knows Jimin is a threat to it. He wants you to stop talking to that freak, and he justifies it as a concern for his grades. “I’ll kiss you when you’re not procrastinating. Do you think you deserve even a pat on the head?”

“I do! I’m halfway done with the research paper, please Jungkook,” you beg pathetically, “I-I’ll show it to you, I have it with me right now.” You start unzipping the case of your laptop until he holds up a hand for you to stop.

“You’re going to read it to me, but not here.”

When he stands up, so do you in a haste. He leaves the cafeteria with you hot on his tail, almost jogging when his strides are much bigger compared to yours. You resemble a clueless lamb following a lion, desperate to hold his claws with your hooves. You don’t know where he’s leading you as you walk down the halls until you stop in front of a door. You’re about to freak out when he swings open the door, but you realize the lecture room is empty.

“You want me to read here?” you inquire meekly. It’s a little intimidating to do it in complete silence, because you have a tendency to stutter when reading out loud and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook where no one can talk over you. 

“Yup.” He snatches your laptop case from your hand with the handle, and roughly opens it before placing the device on the front row wooden desk. It’s a large hall, and the desks stretch out to the half of the room. You’re feeling stage fright for no particular reason; it feels like reverse claustrophobia. “Open the document and give me your phone.”

You don’t question him and hand in your phone before going through your files on the laptop. Jungkook is looking through your contacts and grins when he finds himself saved as: the love of my life ♡. Jimin is saved by his name, and he finds his WhatsApp through his information below. Once he opens your empty chat with him, he switches to your camera and pushes your back so you’re bent over the desk. You sharply inhale and ask, “Kook?” 

“Don’t get distracted now,” he lightly scolds and starts pulling down your pants. You stopped wearing skirts after the incident a week ago to appease him. You stammer with your back arched, and your ass is on full display for him. It’s humiliating. “Start reading.”

“H-Humans are- Jungkook?” you warily look back at Jungkook when he slides the slit of your panties to the side.

“Are you slacking off?” he condescends. 

You bite your lip anxiously and continue reading, “Humans are social animals that n-need social interaction,” Jungkook spits in his hand, “the extent of our social relationships is the most important predictor of h-happiness.” You squeal when you feel wet fingers graze your folds, but you know better than to stop and ask what he’s doing.

“Continue,” he coaxes softly as he brushes his fingertips over your pussy lips. 

“Um, o-one of the main reasons our brains have developed the way they have is so that we can be social,” you speak between shaky breaths. Your cheeks are tinted crimson with embarrassment from his touches; why is he pleasuring you when he specifically told you, you didn’t deserve any? “Being happy a-all of the time is neither possible nor desirable.”

“Is it now?” He slips a finger in your cunt and you involuntarily let out a cry as you push your body forward. You don’t notice him holding up your phone behind you while slowly sliding his finger in and out of you. His saliva is mixing with your arousal as you answer in a gasp, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

“B-Because negative feelings are natural. When it comes to negative feelings, the most important thing to remember is to learn,” you pause to exhale with quivering lips, “to control certain potentially harmful thoughts.” You whine his name when another finger is added to your heat. You’re moving your hips back and forth until he slaps your wet folds as a warning. “Sorry,” you peep and continue in a breath, “Happiness all of the time entails epistemic irrationality.”

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you just want to indulge in his thrusts, but you’re encouraged to stop reading when he doesn’t comment on your moans. His pace is quickening and you chase his fingers with your hips, cum dripping down his wrist as you mewl.  

“You enjoying yourself, whore?”

You nod and whimper, “So much.” You’re clutching the edge of the desk as he fingers you with fervor.

“And you're my girl?” 

“Yes, all yours, I love you so much,” you pant, not stopping for a moment to question his words. He has a full view of your sopping wet cunt on the camera, and he lightly blows on you, making you shiver. He’s recording you confess your love for him while getting fingered.

“Only me?” he presses.

“Only you, Jungkook, I love you more than anything,” you slur as you start to feel a knot in your stomach.

“Then pee.”

“Wh-What?”

“Touch your clit and pee.” He removes his fingers from your clenching hole and takes a step back. “Prove your love to me.”

You mourn the loss of his hand while staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re contemplating his demand as your hand slowly reaches down to your clit. Is he asking you to squirt? Your breathing is shallow as you near your climax, and you still don’t know if you’ll go through with his requirement.

It drips out in tiny drops as you come undone, moaning as clear liquid spills out of you for only a few seconds. 

“Good girl, my good little girl,” Jungkook whispers as he intently watches you humiliate yourself in the name of love. You’re twitching and trembling in shame when he stops recording you and sends it to Jimin without a second’s waste. “Are you okay, baby?”

You hum with a pout as you collect yourself by standing up straight, a sway in your posture. 

“Give me your panties, you’ve made a mess on the floor,” he chastises as he holds out a hand. You slip and step out of them before giving it to him. In return, he passes your phone before feigning a gasp, “Shit, I think I sent Jimin a video of you when I was trying to forward it to my phone.”

Your mouth falls open as heat consumes your entire being. “H-Huh?” Tears brim in your eyes almost instantly; your heart is pounding from anxiety.

“How will you ever look at him now,” he empathizes with a fake frown. “He must think of you as such a slut now.”

“Let me delete it,” you panic as you open your phone. “Wh-Where is it?”

He motions you to give him the phone and opens WhatsApp after. “He’s already seen it.” There are two blue ticks under the message.

“No, no, no,” you pull your hair in agony with a whimper. You quickly put your pants back on and cry as you do so.

“I guess that’s the end of your friendship,” he raises his eyebrows to himself without a hint of sympathy.

“What do I do?!” you wail and fling your hands in stress.

“Avoid him. I’ll make sure he won’t leak it.”

He steps forward to lean in your face intimidatingly. “And don’t talk to him ever again.”

You don’t exactly have a choice now, do you? 

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

.-

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee 

[hawks-supremacy]

Personal Trainer

Summary: being a photographer for nearly every volleyball team in Japan had it's perks, and your roommate likes to abuse those perks.

warnings: none? I mean there's swearing

genre: fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: day 2 of writing every day until my birthday. this was something I wrote quick after work.

You were sitting at your desk editing some photos you took for an online sports article. You were a freelance photographer for various volleyball teams. You mostly took photos for their social media accounts and any special events they attended. You were nearly done fixing the lighting in a photo when your roommate and best friend Hana entered your room.

“Gather your things, change into different clothes and get ready to leave, we’re going to the gym to workout.” She proudly stated while going through your closet attempting to find some clothes you could possibly wear to the gym. You raised your eyebrows, not looking up from your computer, “I’m sorry but I’ve known you for several years now and not once have you or me attempted to work out. We’re lazy which is why I take pictures of sports and not play them.” She made a noise of triumph after finding some decent workout clothes and sat on your bed next to your desk, “Yeah but this is different.” You sighed running your fingers through your hair, “Hana how is this any different.” You saved the photo to your finished folder and closed the app you were using before looking at Hana with a deadpan look. “I figured out that the gym near us is where the Olympic volleyball team is training?” She gave you a sheepish look as she messed with her hands.

“Hana I swear to whatever Deity, God, or Goddess is out there I am not stalking athletes that I regularly work with and take photos of.” You sternly stated as you got up to stretch. “That’s my point! You work with them and not once have you ever introduced me to any hot volleyball players! I needed to take matters into my own hands!” She said as she followed you to the kitchen, “Besides we’re getting old, we need to work on our health.” You laughed loudly at that statement, “Dude we are 25 and perfectly healthy, you just wanna ogle at the hot athletes. We probably can’t even get into the gym if they’re there. They most likely reserved the whole place.”

“Yeah uh I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Here’s the thing, it's actually really funny when you think about it, I bet we’ll laugh years from now.” She looked away and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, “What did you do?” She thought for a moment still refusing to make eye contact, “So when I figured out that they were at the gym by us I went and purchased to gym memberships, but then the lady told me after I bought them mind you, couldn’t even give me the courtesy of letting me know beforehand, that yes, they reserved the whole gym.” You nodded, “Just like I thought they probably would.” She hummed in agreement, “Yeah so I uh borrowed your laptop.” You interrupted her saying her name in a warning tone before she continued, “I emailed one of the team members you regularly take photos with, I think it was Bokuto but it might’ve been Atsumu. It was definitely someone on the msby black jackals team. Either way he said it would be a great promo opportunity for both the team and his instagram and invited us...yay!” By the end of her story you were leaning on the counter pinching the bridge of your

nose. “What time did you say we’d be there.”

An hour and a half later you were walking into the gym with your photographer ID and your camera bag, “I hate that you’re taking advantage of my job like this.” You told Hana as the guy working the front of the gym where everyone was located. “Yeah but I don’t feel bad, what if my soulmate was on this team and you were never gonna introduce me to him. Honestly Y/n, the nerve of you to keep me from him.” She said as she practically skipped down the hallway. “This isn’t some storybook where everyone has soulmates, you’re just a hopeless romantic.” You said opening the door to the gym and walking in.

“Y/n! How have you been? Who’s your friend?” Atsumu said as he approached you both. “Hey! This is Hana she’s uh, she’s here just to tag along and admire honestly, so you can ignore her.” As you finished your statement Hana shoved you over as you laughed. “No, ignore them please. I’m a fan, not like a creepy stalker fan, but a fan. They’ve been uh meaning to let me meet you guys but keep forgetting.” As you were talking, a guy with short hair that you've never seen before walked over. “Hey, I’m Y/n this is Hana. I don’t know if we’ve met and I've probably met every volleyball player I possibly could.” You shook his hand as you introduced yourself, “I’m Iwaizumi and you haven’t met me because I’m not a volleyball player. Well I used to be, but now I’m a personal trainer.”

“You could be their personal trainer, they need to workout anyway I’m sure you could-” Before Hana could say anything else you covered her mouth with your hand. “Please forget everything she just said. She’s a little crazy, was dropped on her head as a baby and whatnot. I’m the photographer, I don’t know if they told you.” He nodded and was about to say something when Hana licked your hand and you let out a sound of disgust. You apologized and he laughed, “No worries, yeah they told me about you. It’s nice to meet you and for what it’s worth I don’t think you need a personal trainer but if you ever need the help let me know.”

As he walked away to go help some of the guys who were already starting you turned to Hana smacking her arm, “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and not feel an ounce of remorse.” She put her hands in the air in mock surrender, “Sorry, but come on he’s hot and clearly just hit on you.” You shook your head going to set your camera bag down on the bench to get your camera. “You’re ridiculous he was just defending me after you called me fat and out of shape.” You said grabbing your camera and moving to take some photos. “I did not call you fat or out of shape! I’m just trying to help you date a hot guy!”

You turned around now exasperated at the fact that she shouted that across the room. Everyone paused and turned to either look at you or her and she mouthed sorry at you. You groaned in embarrassment, sure that your face was burning red. You spent the next hour or so taking pictures desperately trying to forget that that happened. The guys were finishing up for the day and Hana was flirting or rather attempting to flirt with Atsumu, you were sitting on the bench looking through the photos you took when you heard someone sit down next to you.

Looking over you saw Iwaizumi and groaned, “Please disregard everything that happened today, you know what, in fact just wipe it from your memory altogether. I was never here, we never met.” He pursed his lips and thought for a second, “Fine okay, we never met. Hi I’m Iwaizumi. I’m the team’s personal trainer and I would love to take you out for lunch sometime and maybe get to know you.” You nearly dropped your camera at the response. “Unless of course you don’t want me to and your friend lied about implying you were single?”

You coughed looking through the photos again far too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, “No she uh wasn’t lying. I would like that, a lot actually.”

[alltooreid]

All Too Well

Spencer must go to him and Y/N’s once shared apartment to clean out his things and leave her life forever. While there he can’t help but look back on his actions, the ones that made him lose the love of his life forever

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfic ever published on here and I’m excited to share it with you all! It’s inspired by one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs All Too Well, but although I utilized some of the lyrical genius and imagery from it, the story is not the same as the story in the song. This is a very angsty fic, and there is not a happy ending. Although there are some cute fluffy elements, including a Reid’s purple scarf origin story, I would in no way call this happy. Additionally, because of a reason you may later realize, the content warnings are very vague. If anything even slightly mentioned in them may affect you, I advise you to maybe stay clear. On a lighter note, if anyone wants to request anything, whether it’s another song inspired fic or a general plot line you would like to see please do so!! Also sorry this is kinda short, I’m still learning but I’m really proud of this one :))

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Type: Very Angsty, Not a Happy Ending, (Y/N and Spencer do not end up together)

Word Count: 2.4k

Content Warnings(try to ignore if you would prefer to stay surprised): slight cursing, discussions of death and gore, discussion of car crash

Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments :) let me know what you think!

“But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause you remember it all too well”

Spencer was packing up his things, finally getting the chance to clear out and move from the apartment he and Y/N once shared.  Their relationship was rocky and unconventional but he loved her all the same. Even though he left her broken-hearted and destroyed his most cherished relationship. Even though Y/N’s parents now hated him because of what he did to her. Even though hope of repairing what they once had was long gone and there was nothing else he could do about it. Even though he had torn up the masterpiece they once had together. He still loved her so much.

But the magic was gone and so was she. 

Now Spencer was left with memories, and since the apartment they lived in was hers instead of his, filed entirely under hers and her parents name. In his excessive knowledge and wisdom, Spencer Reid struggled to understand how the kitchen where Y/N told him she loved him for the first time as he lit the candle on the collapsing confetti cake he had attempted to bake for her birthday was in no way legally tied to him. 

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy birthday to you!” Spencer sang as he lit the single pink birthday candle he found after rummaging through his desk drawers for longer than he cared to admit. He knew it was in there somewhere, but at the same time there was a whole lot in there. 

As he looked at her face, eyes welling up with tears as she took in the sad, homemade excuse for a birthday party Spencer had thrown together after they got back from a case hours before, he couldn’t help but feel he should have done more. He wanted to take her to New York, where they would’ve enjoyed fine dining and one of those incredibly detailed floral frosting cakes he knew Y/N was infatuated with. 

However, the case in Oregon ran long. They had only returned to their apartment 2 hours ago, hours past their 7pm dinner reservations. Although Y/N tried to hide her disappointment, you don’t need to be a profiler to know that someone wants to celebrate their own birthday. So although they had agreed to go to bed and play everything by ear tomorrow, the young genius had, what he would still argue to be, his most brilliant idea when he saw Y/N asleep once he got out of the shower.

It was still her birthday.

And Spencer had just under 2 hours to throw you a party. 

So sure, Y/N deserved more than a cake that was definitely not cool enough to frost, but was frosted anyway due to time constraints. And she definitely deserved more than present hastily wrapped in his printed out articles and newspaper clippings. Spencer wished that he had time to go buy new candles, instead of lighting a green sparkly number 7 because it was all he could find.

But it was almost midnight, and that meant he only had 18 minutes before it wasn’t Y/N’s birthday anymore.

So instead of dwelling on it, he headed to their bedroom, shook her awake and watched her roll over to face him. He watched the smile overtake her face as she said the stupid party hat he was wearing, made out of a pom pom and a wedding invitation.

“Hey birthday girl,” he said softly, “you do realize you’re sleeping through your party right?”

She looked so happy that night, even as she saw the way too messy kitchen and her birthday cake that was melting by the second. She laughed as Spencer fumbled with the lighter. 

And as he finished singing her eyes started releasing tears. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish we could’ve done more for the first birthday we get to spend together. “

“No, no, no” she said as she wiped her tears away, “It’s not that at all.”

She smiled and looked up at him “I just love you so goddamn much Spencer.”

Although at one point, all Spencer knew was logic and logically Y/N had never ever known him when she filed her paperwork, the genius still struggled to grasp the concept. That even before the ending of it all, you had no legal, definite connection to her at all. 

How was nothing about this place, his? 

  All that he knew was that he had today to pack all his shit and leave. All he knew is that Y/N’s father had made it very clear none of their family wanted to see him again. 

He wished he could talk to Y/N about it. However all of his calls went to voicemail immediately. 

Logically, Spencer knew why, he had completely fucked up. 

But still, he called every single day, as there was nothing his heart wished for more than to speak to Y/N again. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.

As the cold air from the open windows blew into the apartment, Spencer couldn’t help but feel he was leaving his home behind. Everything left of her was going to be here, and he wouldn’t get to experience any part of the life you and him had once shared together anymore.

But then he saw it. 

The royal purple scarf Y/N bought the day of their first date. 

“You like this color right?” she asked as they stopped by a booth at the street festival she had taken him to. Spencer was too distracted as he watched the other couples on dates, as they walked hand and hand down the streets. He sometimes wished he could forget things like the number of germs and bacteria that lived on her hands. He at least wished he could forget long enough to gather enough courage to hold Y/N’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Hmm?” he said, looking back at her, then the scarf she was now wearing. “Oh, yeah! I love that color, it um- looks great on you.”

She smiled, then turned to the weird old guy running the stand. “How much for the scarf?” she asked.

He looked at her, then looked at Spencer, “depends which one of you is paying.”

Before Spencer could say anything, let alone pull out his wallet, Y/N already had hers out. 

“Well, for a pretty lady like you, it’s 2 dollars,” the man said.

She handed him five and turned to Spencer. “You hear that? I’m so pretty I get 80% off! Wonder what you would’ve paid huh pretty boy? He would probably owe you money.” The man handed her her change and whispered something Spence couldn’t quite catch. 

“Gross,” Y/N said as they exited the booth, “he wrote his number on my change.”

Spencer chuckled, “Did you really just buy that scarf because I like the color of it?”

She smiled, “Don’t get so cocky now Einstein, I like purple too you know? And maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you borrow it.”

At that moment Spencer felt just okay enough to wrap his arm around Y/N’s, and she felt just right enough to wrap the new scarf around them both. 

The one she left next to her front door, after making the last minute decision to leave it at home the night of their final outing.

No one would notice if he….. Right?

Sure maybe Y/N would but what would she do about it? Hunt him down just to get a scarf she paid less than five dollars for? Definitely not. 

He wrapped it around his neck and closed his eyes, even days later he could perfectly picture Y/N singing in his car, fascinated by the autumn leaves falling around her. He felt the wind in his hair, but instead of the cold, dreary air from the open apartment window, he swore he could remember the warm air from that October night. 

“Spencer I know you hate it but please, please, please. I’m so tired.”

“Sweetheart you’re not tired, you’re drunk. Of course I have to drive you home.”

“Oh, whatever.”

A phone call broke him away from his memories, it was Hotch. Spencer was angry, how effortlessly cruel of him to call him during such an emotional time. Hotch knew how much Spencer loved Y/N, the whole team did. 

So he didn’t pick up.

Instead he walked over to the coffee table they used to put their feet on when they binged watched Doctor Who together. Letting the ringtone play out in the background, Spencer picked up an old photo album Y/N’s parents must have brought out. Of course he remembered it, it was the same one they flipped through when he met Y/N’s parents for the first time. He didn’t realize she had brought it home with her.

His eyes welled up with tears as he flipped through the old school pictures, remembering how embarrassed Y/N was of her big glasses. He saw her old athlete pictures from when she used to play tee ball, and flipped through more pictures until he reached the end of your softball career, in college. 

He remembered how hard Y/N blushed when she showed him her childhood bedroom. Her twin sized bed was full of stuffed animals and her walls covered in boy band posters. 

“You know what Spencer? I don’t want to hear it. I loved and still love the BackStreet Boys and I am not ashamed of that.”

He laughed, “You know, before we started dating I always thought you were so cool and unattainable. I imagined that you had always been this chic, beautifully brilliant badass. It’s oddly comforting to know that you wore tortoiseshell glasses and had a fruitless infatuation with Nick Carter.”

She gasped, before tossing her tabby cat stuffed toy at him, “You’re about to get it!”

Once again he was called out of the memory by his phone. 

And once again he let it ring.

Spencer went into their shared bedroom, most of his things were already put into boxes for him. Honestly he was surprised that they hadn’t been set on fire or thrown away after what he did. 

Soon it was time for him to take his things down to his car.

Except it wasn’t even his car. It was Morgan’s.

“Spencer, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life. I am infatuated with you, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“You sure that isn’t the alcohol talking Y/N”

“Look at me Spencer, no, no really look at me.”

He couldn’t imagine ever using his old car again after what had happened in it.

“You are my future.”

Not that he could use it again.

“You are my everything.”

It was pretty much destroyed, after that accident on that little town street.

“I want nothing more in my life, than for you to be in it.”

When he was so enamored by Y/N, so in love that he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that he ran a red light.

And the truck waiting to go didn’t stop either.

“SPENCER! SPENCER CAN YOU HEAR ME? I NEED YOU TO CALL 911!” she screamed, her voice filled with agony, her limbs mangled in a sea of crushed mental and snapped backwards by the emergency airbag she didn’t realize she was resting her feet on.

Spencer had already called 911. That was the sickest thing about it. Spencer was, physically, perfectly fine. Spencer would get to leave the hospital after just a few days. Spencer could’ve probably gotten out of the car if he tried to. But he stayed, he stayed with Y/N, as she wasn’t fine. As Spencer looked down on her broken body, and tried desperately to find just one piece of skin that wasn’t coated in blood, her blood, that is when he realized. That not only could Y/N not walk out of the hospital with him, but she probably wouldn’t even make it there.

So he sobbed, he struggled to breathe, not because of the ways Y/N did, but because he had caused all the reasons she couldn’t.

“Hey, Spencer, look at me.”

So he did, and he reached for her hands and held them so tightly, and wanted one last time to feel her squeeze back. And she did, just ever so softly. 

“Spencer, I meant everything I said to you. I want you to spend the rest of my life with me. Please.”

“I love you so much Y/N”

“I love you too.”

Spencer was drawn away from his memories once again as he got another phone call. 

But it wasn’t Hotch this time. It was Mr. Y/L/N, so he answered it. He owed him that.

“Are you out of her house yet? You’ve had hours. I want you gone Spencer.”

Spencer sighed, “I’m leaving now sir, I’m just putting the last of my things in the trunk and then I’ll be gone.”

“Good, I never want to see you again Spencer, you hear me?” Mr. Y/L/N said. “And you better not have anything of hers either. All that stuff in your car better belong to you and you only. If Y/N paid for even a dime of it it better still be in that house.”

Spencer looked down at this scarf he was wearing, the one that still smelled like her perfume. The one that he couldn’t bring himself to take off because he reminded him of so much innocence and beauty.

“Yes sir, I didn’t take anything.”

“Good. And Spencer do me a favor.”

“Anything sir.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Mr. Y/L/N said, and then hung up. Spencer sighed, he expected that and fully deserved it.

How else should a father react when you kill his daughter?

“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well”

[calm-and-wine]

(I’ll give you) the best years

part IV (masterlist, taglist)

Hello and happy monday! I hope everyone is having a lovely day, as you all deserve. I’d like to take this moment to say one more thank you to everyone who voted for my little story for the awards. We got runner up for best sequel (like whaaaaat), that is crazy and I love every single one of you. Here is part IV, hopefully it’ll bring you a little escape. (it’s 9.5k which I think is the longest thing I’ve ever written, but apparently I couldn’t help myself with this one)

PART IV

March 2025

Lucy was familiar with Niall in his recording mode. When he was in the studio day and night, having one idea after the other. But Niall working on music for One Direction was a different story. She has never seen him so excited, he was bouncing off the walls, gushing about studio sessions and laughs he shared with the boys, constantly playing her bits and snippets of what they had been working on. But working as a team with three other guys made it much harder to make the couple’s schedules line up. However, they still made it work, as much as possible. Niall made sure to keep his schedule free for all the Grand Slams and he even managed to be with her for some other tournaments on her last tour as well.

She was more than impressed that the band managed to keep their reunion a secret, mostly working in Louis’ little home studio. Even though they definitely weren’t as watched by the public as a few years before, knowing how big of a deal the band was, Lucy was pretty sure that as soon as people would get a whiff of them possibly coming back, they would go crazy for those guys once again. It was just the magic of them, something no one could explain, least of all the men involved.

Her and Niall managed to meet up in Los Angeles for a little over a week. Harry was there doing promo for his upcoming movie, which he filmed early last year, so he could still work on some songs with Niall, while Lucy was supposed to do two magazine photoshoots and interviews, as well as a talk show appearance, before going to play in Indian Wells. She had done a few things like that before, been a guest on a few tv shows back in England after winning her first Grand Slam, then in America after the US Open triumph, there were some magazine things as well. But since January, after she announced this would be her last season as a professional player, quite a few offers came in. Apparently she was the new sports star in demand. She wasn’t the biggest fan of those kinds of things, they always made her nervous, the only place she liked being the center of attention was on court. But her manager and the rest of her team convinced her to do a few of those, assuring her that publicity like that would be good for whatever she wants to do in the future.

When Lucy finally crossed the threshold of Niall’s LA house (which he insisted was theirs, since they were married and all), all she wanted to do was slide her back down the door and curl into a ball on the floor. She was exhausted. The photoshoot ran longer than she expected, and after that she was interviewed whilst having dinner. The reporter was a middle aged man, not necessarily rude, but a lot of his questions were more like assumptions that rubbed her the wrong way.

She just took off her shoes, when her husband appeared in the hallway, looking all soft in athletic shorts and a long-sleeve shirt, his hair growing longer than usual lately, which Lucy kinda loved. He wasted no time in stepping closer to her and enveloping her in his famous hug, even though she often thought he reserved special tight ones just for her.

“Long day?” he asked, still holding her, her arms wrapped around his waist just as tightly.

She nodded, before admitting, “I actually kinda hated it.” Her words muffled, as she nuzzled her face into Niall’s neck.

He hummed, rubbing her back in order to relax her. “Are you hungry?” He asked, but she shook her head, still making no move to let him go. “How about a bath?”

At last, Lucy pulled away slightly to look at him, her eyes big and appreciative. “Yes, please.”

He planted a sweet kiss on her forehead, squeezed her one last time before letting her go, but not completely, intertwining their fingers and leading her upstairs.

He didn’t ask questions, sensing her mood, mostly her tiredness, and simply falling into step with her actions. She went to the sink to remove her makeup, hating not being able to do that right after the last photo was taken, finding the professional make up to be way too much for her. Niall started filling up the tub, adding her favourite salt and scented oil. He truly knew the way to her heart.

“Do you want some tea? Wine?” he asked, turning towards her, their eyes meeting in the mirror, the bathroom filled with the sound of the running water.

“That apple and cinnamon tea?”

Niall nodded at her request. “Coming right up.”

He made a move to leave, but she grabbed his forearm, keeping him in place.

“Stay for a minute, please? It’ll get cold before I’m done with this mess,” she said motioning to her face and hair, which was pinned up, mentally cringing at just the thought of the amount of hairspray that went into it.

To be honest, the main reason behind her plea was just the need for his company, which she thought he must have sensed, because he linked his arms around her waist from behind and planted a kiss on her neck, before stepping back and perching on the edge of the tub.

“Was today awful, then?” he asked, giving her his full attention and concern.

“Well..” Lucy hesitated for a second. “No, not really awful, just…” she sighed, trying to explain it the best she could without complaining too much or sounding ungrateful at the opportunities she had. “The photoshoot was fine, I don’t love those stuff, but the clothes were amazing and everyone was super nice, just quite tiring though. But the interview…” She trailed off, rubbing particularly hard at her eye to remove the fake lashes.

“What happened?” Niall asked, biting his lip nervously. Lucy got her bad days, everyone did sometimes, but she was usually cool and collected, burying herself under a blanket and putting on a feel-good movie or a tv show, preferably cuddling into Niall’s body as well. She didn’t like getting her frustration out, she did that only while working out or playing.

“I’m just so irritated, baby,” she let out an exasperated sigh, giving up on washing her face for a minute and turning towards Niall. “I knew there has always been a lot of unfairness in treatment of men and women in sports, you know, and I’m not even talking about money, just all those headlines, with us it’s always the most unflattering picture on the front page, we’re always criticised about our looks and outfits first, don’t even get me started on the Serena’s catsuit debacle, banning that was just so wrong. Men don’t get that. When a tournament starts people wonder how they’ll perform, not what they’ll wear.” She shook her head, trying to not raise her voice, even though she felt like annoyance and anger were seeping out of her body. “Do you know what’s the question I’ve been asked the most since January?” Lucy asked, but didn’t really wait for Niall’s response, even though he gave her a small shrug. “Whether I’m pregnant. Because apparently that is the only plausible explanation for retiring. Like… How would that even work?” she asked, throwing her arms out in exasperation. “I’m playing my last tournament in September, do they expect me to play heavily pregnant then? Or with a baby on my hand and a racket in the other? What the fuck even is this bullshit?” She was talking fast, all her questions rhetorical, although Niall wouldn’t even dare to interrupt her when she was on a roll like that. “Men don’t have to endure any of it, everyone just automatically assumes it’s a health thing or whatever. With us it’s just constant speculation about our love and family life. And just… Fuck that, I’m honestly so done with this.” She turned towards the sink once more, going back to washing her face, like she was truly done with the topic. She didn’t even expect any reassuring words or anything from Niall, just needed to let her feelings out and vent to someone.

Niall was quiet for a moment, all he could do while she was speaking was look at her with wide eyes and a pull in his heart. She was agitated, angry and annoyed, but there was also so much passion in her words. So much care, not even for her, but for the number of women that had to endure it all as well. He always knew she was superhuman, but in that moment he was even more aware of that. He truly felt for her, just as much as he was in awe of her brain, her compassion and her strength.

He kept his head down for a second, thinking about her words, contemplating how he could possibly help, whether it was even possible. It was usually Niall who got riled up and went on a rant, not Lucy, so it was a new situation, one he wasn’t completely sure how to navigate, but he couldn't say he liked it. Seeing her this annoyed and agitated made his heart give a painful squeeze inside his chest, having this instant need to protect her and make it all better. It wasn’t a very familiar feeling for him, knowing how strong and independent his wife was, sometimes pointing those kinds of injustice, like when she saw a picture of a fellow female player to go with the article, but it was purposely chosen to be a photo with her skirt flying up, or when she saw comments online how “disgusting” it is when women scream on court after a good (or bad) point, but when the men do that they’re just “passionate”. She shared her thoughts about that with Niall, but never let it truly bother her. But this time, it seemed like she had had enough. And he couldn’t really blame her.

He stood up and pulled her into a hug once again, knowing he was in no position to fix the world, but hoping to at least make his wife feel better.

“I’m sorry. Men are dicks,” he said, which made Lucy laugh. It was a real laugh, the sound coming straight from her belly and making Niall smile instantly, just getting that reaction out of her, which was exactly what he was hoping to achieve.

“They really are sometimes,” she agreed, her face all lit up now, finally free of any make up, her eyes regaining their usual spark.

This was his wife, Niall thought, the most beautiful woman in the world, just like that, with her face slightly red after the wash, her hair still in a perfect up-do and her eyes telling him all of her secrets. In moments like that, he could not believe just how lucky he was.

Lucy pulled him in for a kiss, before patting his shoulder and letting him know he can go get her that tea now. There was no need for more words, she knew she had his support, he wasn’t merely a listener, if she asked him, he would do whatever she wanted. But it wasn’t that kind of situation. The patriarchy could not be changed by him, nor her, so she just tried to let it go, already feeling lighter by sharing those burdening thoughts. Tea and a bath in the company of her husband ended up being her safe haven, and that was all she needed.

July 2025

As Lucy fell down, her back hitting the grass, she could not believe what had just happened. There was no way it was real. Apparently, she just won Wimbledon. Fucking Wimbledon. The most prestigious tennis tournament that ever existed. The one in her home country. The one she always wanted to win, but didn’t think she’d actually manage to. It was a dream she let go already. And now it was a reality.

The whole stadium was so loud, she could barely hear her own thoughts. She sat up and saw her opponent coming towards her with a smile. Naomi was the closest person she had to a friend out of other players and she was very appreciative that they could compete at such monumental occasions, there was something special about sharing those moments with someone you not only had respect for, but also genuinely liked.

“That was fantastic, congratulations,” Naomi said earnestly as they hugged.

“It was a great game, you gave me hell,” Lucy said, at which they both laughed.

She spent a minute taking a bow and thanking the crowd, before she went closer to the stand to get to her people. She started up the stairs until she got to her player’s box, where there was a small door on the side, it was installed a few years back, after multiple players went jumping up and climbing the box, now it was much easier. It was only a moment before she was engulfed in a hug by her dad who sat the closest, her mum putting her arms around them a second later, turning it into a three way hug. Lucy could not keep the tears at bay any longer, she could hear her parents saying kind and loving words into her ears, but she was so emotional, still in a state of absolut shock, she wasn’t able to really process them. They let her go after a minute and all she had to do was take one step to be wrapped in her husband’s arms and crying on his shoulder.

“You mad, mad woman,” Niall whispered with a laugh, followed by a few kisses on her cheek, right by her ear, rubbing a calming hand over her back.

She stayed in his arms for probably way too long, seeing as there were thousands of people watching them and even more in front of the telly, the whole thing being broadcasted all around the world. But she didn’t care, she needed Niall, his presence always calming, his amazing hug and the smell of his cologne mixed with a bit of sweat from sitting in the sun feeling like home.

When she pulled away slightly, his eyes were shining. It always amazed her with how much love and pride he could look at her. Even though she usually looked at him the exact same way. She planted a simple peck on his lips before squeezing his arms with a smile and moving along to hug her coach, Mia and Natalia, Niall’s mum who, for three years now, has been coming to London for the two weeks during which the tournament took place to watch her play, then Lucy high fived the rest of the people in her box, including her manager, Niall’s cousin and best mate and their friends, Laura and Iain.

She could stay up there forever, sharing smiles and hugs with the people she cared about, but she had a trophy to pick up, after all. She actually probably took a bit too long already, because as soon as she was back down on court, she was hurried to the side to give a little speech before they presented her with a trophy. But they could wait for her, after all, she was the champion.

~~

“Shit, Niall!” Lucy called out, which prompted her husband to come out of the bathroom running a towel through his wet hair, while the other was wrapped around his waist. “I just won Wimbledon. Do you know what that means?”

He looked at her with an arched brow, like she was mental. “Um.. A lot, I guess? I don’t know what you’re on about, love,” he chuckled.

She threw her head in laughter, looking absolutely beautiful lying on the bed, in a shirt of his, her skin slightly tanned against the white sheets, her body tired, but her eyes bright with glee.

“Well, yeah, but first of all, that means I’m going to be a member of The All England Club, which is super cool and basically I’ll be able to go there to train or just play or hang out and I’ll probably be invited to matches at Wimby in the future.” Her eyes, despite tiredness, were shining.

“You’ll get a plus one ticket, right?” he asked, draping his hair towel over the chair and stepping closer to where she was. “Does being your husband make me like an honorary member or something?”

“Mmm I don’t think so, babe. You might have to win the tournament for that,” she giggled, when he grabbed her calf and made a move to tickle her, but didn’t actually go through with it. “But I will probably get two tickets, so you’re lucky I like you. But the second super fun part is that there’s the Champions’ Dinner going on tomorrow night. And seeing as I’m a fricking champion,” she said with a huge grin, the words still sounding unreal, “we’re invited.” Her face momentarily changed into one of horror. “Oh fuck, Niall!” she exclaimed, completely horrified. “I don’t have anything to wear! What the hell, how am I supposed to get a dress in less than a day?”

Niall’s shoulders shook with silent laughter at how terrified she looked. “Well, you’ve got quite a few dresses you could wear.”

“Niall!” Lucy reached for the pillow to hit him with, but he was too quick, grabbing it before it made contact and throwing it on the other side of the bed, still laughing. “It’s The Champions’ Dinner! It’s a big thing. I can’t just wear any old dress,” she explained, her eyes narrowed.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he leaned towards her to peck her lips, before going back into the bathroom. He came back a minute later wearing a fresh pair of pants and shutting off the light after himself. “Oh wait,” he stopped in his tracks, looking at her with furrowed brows, “what about the dress you got for The Brits?”

“Ohhh that’s a good idea!” she exclaimed, grinning automatically. She did more smiling today than any other time, her cheeks actually started to ache earlier. “Do you think it’ll be alright?”

“It’s a gown, right?” he asked, shrugging. “And from what I remember it’s really pretty.”

“Yeah, you’re a bit of a genius,” she admitted, looking at him appreciatively. “I knew there was a reason why I married you.”

“Yeah, cheers,” he sniggered with fake offence, sitting at his side of the bed, with his back to his wife and reaching for his phone.

Lucy watched him fumble with it for a bit, probably responding to some messages, before she got up to her knees and crawled over to him, putting her arms around his torso from behind.

“You okay? Seemed pretty quiet during dinner,” she said quietly, putting her chin on his shoulder and looking at the side of his face. After she was done with a press conference and one or two more interviews after her win, they went for a celebratory dinner with their families, friends and her team, where surprisingly, Niall wasn’t his usual charming self, talking only when asked, even spacing out a few times.

Niall furrowed his brows slightly and reached to put his phone back on the bedside table. He hummed before speaking. “Yeah, just tired. I also have a bit of a headache, from sitting in the sun, I think.” He looked at her and when she didn’t seem entirely convinced, he planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “Aren’t you tired? Or are you still buzzing with adrenaline? Will you be able to sleep?”

She rested her forehead on his shoulder, not wanting to put distance between them yet. “Still buzzing a bit, but I think once my head hits the pillow, I’ll be out, cause I am genuinely wiped out. I think I’m getting old.”

Niall snickered at that, maneuvering their bodies so they faced each other. “You are most definitely not getting old,” he said, putting both his hands on her cheeks. “Don’t forget that I’m older than you and I am definitely not anywhere near being old.” He gave her another kiss and for a second Lucy felt like he wanted to convey something with it, something he didn’t want to say out loud, but she had no idea what and she didn’t want to push him with questions. So she just kissed him back, trying to somehow transfer all the love she had for him.

~~

The last two days, since Lucy’s Saturday triumph, were crazy. The Champions’ Dinner was the best party she had ever been to, even though she was stressing about the tradition that was Champions’ dance, during which the male and female winners were supposed to dance together, but seeing that the men’s champion was Alexander, her worry almost disappeared, as he was someone she’s known for years, him being a year younger than her, they’ve seen each other around since playing as juniors, he had always been a laugh. It was actually incredibly nice to share that night with him, as they were both first time Wimbledon champions. Other than that, she had quite a few interviews and tv appearances as the champion.

So in the evening, they were sitting on the sofa, eating takeaway, because when they finally got home, none of them felt like cooking.

“Niall, since when do we not talk to each other?” Lucy said putting her plate down, done with the silence, but it was about more than just this moment.

“Hm?” he finally snapped his head up and looked at his wife. He barely said a word since they left the filming studio. He wanted to tag along today, it was his idea, but truth be told, he had been kind of distant since they came back after Wimbledon final. It was like he had been swallowed by his thoughts, engrossed in his own mind.

“You’ve been by my side for the past two days, but it’s like you’re lost inside your own head. And you keep giving me this weird look, last night at dinner and all through today…” Lucy noticed those things right away, having learned his body language and all the different cues after years together. But now, she was tired of waiting for him to speak up and say what is going on in his mind. “And I don’t know what it is, but you’ve never looked at me like that before. And I don’t like it,” she admitted, although she never thought she wouldn’t like the way Niall looked at her, but it was very far from his usual soft gaze. “It’s like you’re thinking something over or having regrets or.. I don’t know,” she shrugged, feeling a bit hopeless. “I don’t want to push you, but I’m worried and I’d just want to know what’s going on. We’re supposed to be open and honest, always. So please, just tell me what’s worrying you, baby.”

Niall hung down his head once again. He knew she’d pick up on his behaviour, the same way he could always tell when her head was spinning with thoughts. And it wasn’t like he had been trying to keep something from her, he just didn’t know what to say, how to breach the topic. However, he wasn’t aware she had been worrying about him like that.

“It’s just…” he started, but paused right away, licking his lips, putting his plate down on the table, eyes focused on his lap, where he started fidgeting with his fingers. “I think that maybe you should reconsider your retirement,” he said after a beat, lifting his head but still not exactly looking at her.

“What? Why?” she said truly confused and shocked. He had her full attention even before, but now she was looking at him with furrowed brows, trying to inspect everything about him, looking for any clues he might give.

“Well, do you not want to play longer?” he asked, eventually meeting her gaze, rubbing his palms over his jeans, because they began to feel clammy. “You know you could, the past two weeks just proved that.”

She was silent for a minute, trying to collect her thoughts, think of a reason why he would want her to keep competing. His eyes were darting around, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to watch her or avoid her gaze.

“Are you having doubts about us?” she asked eventually, starting to mindlessly twist the wedding band on her finger.

“What?” Now he was the one completely thrown off, his brows creasing and nose scrunching, which was an expression he had when he was concentrating, and one of her favourites, but not in this situation. At least the question made him truly look her in the eyes, focus on her.

“Now that we could actually settle down, spend most of the time together and not be constantly scattered around the world, does it scare you?” Lucy elaborated, trying to explain her worry.

“No, fuck, Lulu, why would you think that?” he exclaimed right away, almost offended by her question.

“Well, what am I supposed to think, Niall?” She slightly raised her voice as well. “I thought we were both excited for this, to build more of a home together, to not have to miss each other all the time and say goodbye every other week or month. And now you’re basically saying that maybe I should keep going around the globe playing tennis, being away from you, so what should I think?” She started gesticulating, throwing her hands around a bit, shrugging with that last question.

“It’s not that at all, Jesus,” he huffed, his hand going up to rake through his hair. “I don’t know, maybe you should know I love you, huh? I mean, we are married and all that...” His voice wasn’t particularly loud, none of them were screaming, but they were both clearly agitated, their voices rough, almost piercing.

“Yeah, but that’s all we know. Me travelling 10 months a year, you going back and forth between LA and London, or New York, or touring the globe,” she pointed out. “Trying to have little moments here and there, but not being together all year round. Probably not even half of it. And maybe that’s not what you want, maybe you didn’t think about it, when you asked me to marry you. I don’t know,” her voice was becoming more and more thick with emotions, but now that she had all those horrible, scary thoughts in her head, she couldn’t stop it.

“Stop!” he blurted, not even loudly, but sternly, which made Lucy snap out of her spinning state. “Okay? Just stop saying those things,” his face was contorted, almost like he couldn’t listen to the things she had been saying, like he was in pain because of her words. “What about the months when your knee was fucked up? Didn’t we spend every day together then? Was I running away scared? Did I not love having you home? How can you even… Fuck!” Both his hands were in his hair, tagging frustratingly. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, before speaking again, this time much more calmly. “Let’s not even go there, okay? Cause it’s not about that, at all. I’d love nothing more than to have you with me as much as possible. You’ve got to know that, Lulu.” That last sentence was let out as a plea, which made Lucy’s heart squeeze painfully inside her chest.

She did know that, of course she did. And yet, she didn’t know how else she could explain his earlier statement.

“Well, then what is it? Why do you think I should reconsider?” she asked, not wanting to guess again, her first theory leading them into a fight.

“Because you just won fucking Wimbledon, Lulu!” Niall shouted, his hands flying up. He wasn’t necessarily angry, but his voice was a humourless laugh.

“Yeah, I know, I was there,” she said with a smile, not really bothered by his outburst. “It was pretty great, but I still don’t see your point, baby.”

He just screamed at her, but right now she was nothing but calm and level headed. He calmed her worst fears that came with his question, so she wasn’t stressed anymore. But he was exasperated, so it was her turn to get rid of any worries he clearly had.

He took another deep breath, Lucy scooted closer to him on the couch, reaching for his hand and tracing figures on his palm in support and reassurance.

“It was your biggest dream, you always said so. And now you’ve done it and you’re just gonna quit playing two months later?” Niall finally asked in disbelief, looking closely at her, as if searching for something, any trace of hesitation. “Don’t you think of other things you could still achieve? What about French Open? Don’t you want to have all the Slams?”

“Niall,” she said so tenderly, all his previous anger just evaporated hearing her voice like that. She put a hand on his cheek to make sure he will hear her every word and see her true intentions and feelings. “Yeah, I won Wimbledon. It was amazing and I never thought it would actually happen. Do I think I could have another big win? Yeah, maybe,” she admitted with a shrug, at which Niall opened his mouth to speak, but she simply put slightly more pressure on his cheek and continued. “But there’s also no guarantee it will happen. And I don’t want to spend another year or two or three or however long, chasing something that I don’t need. I haven’t managed to win French in the ten years I’ve been playing, so what’s to say I’ll win it now? I’m not the best on clay and that’s okay. Sure, it would have been incredible to win all four Slams. But I want to appreciate the success I had, not think of something I maybe could have had. I achieved way more than I ever dreamt of. So that’s more than enough for me.”

Her words were as earnest as possible, her eyes not leaving his, the corner of her lips gently tugged upwords. She really meant every word and a part of Niall already knew that, but his mind still wasn’t put at ease, he felt like his head had been spinning with too many thoughts since Saturday. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy about her winning, if there was anyone rooting for Lucy, it was always Niall, he took more pleasure from her successes than his own. But this one came with a lot of doubts.

“I just…,” Niall pulled away slightly, feeling the need to put a bit of distance between them for his next words. He kept his one hand inside hers, but the other tugged at his hair frustratedly. “I don’t want you to wake up someday and regret it. And resent me or our life together or our kids for not playing longer, for not going for more. Cause it would break my heart, Lulu, I don’t think I could live with that thought,” he finally said his biggest worry out loud, his eyes beginning to cloud.

Lucy gasped at his confession. The fact that Niall may have that worry didn’t even cross her mind. She was baffled, instantly feeling sick knowing that he’s been turning it over in his head for two days, when her stomach turned upside down just at the thought.

She squeezed his hand to bring his attention back to her, her own eyes filling up with tears. “Hey, come on, I could never ever resent you. Or our potential future children. I love you, baby,” her voice almost broke at the end and Niall didn’t even wait a second before enveloping her into a hug. She instantly climbed into his lap, hiding her face in his chest, breathing in his scent, before pulling away slightly to continue talking. “And even after winning, the thought to keep playing hasn't even crossed my mind. Which just means I’m ready to go.”

He looked at her, in his arms, both of them keeping eye contact, as if trying to look into each other’s souls or send an unspoken message.

Niall sighed after a minute, unwinding one of his hands from around her waist to run it over his face and rub his eyes.

“I just kept watching you being so happy these past days, and you’ve been asked about it in every interview and just…” he shook his head lightly, trying to take comfort in a hand she was rubbing over his arm and not get riled up again. “I’d never want to hold you back, I hope you know that.”

Lucy bit her lip, her heart soaring and aching at the same time. She was overwhelmed by the amount of love he had for her. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that he would sacrifice everything for her own happiness. If only she wanted him to. It was bewildering to know that someone loved you this much. So much it was almost incomprehensible.

She licked her lips, thinking over her answer. She knew Niall had nothing to worry about, that his doubts weren’t even a possibility to her, but she didn’t want to make him feel silly, as it was a genuine concern that he was entitled to. Just because she knew there was absolutely no way that what he was worried about would ever happen, didn’t mean he was wrong for worrying about it. But now it was her job to make those doubts go away.

She grabbed his neck and spoke with a voice so confident that it’d hopefully get rid of all his doubts. “Yeah, they kept asking about it, but what did I say to that, hm? Every time they asked me about it, what did I say?” she looked at him expectantly until he sighed with defeat.

“That you’re incredibly excited for your life outside the court,” he said, pulling her closer, no space left between their bodies now.

“And?” she asked, a smile forming on her lips.

“And that you look forward to spending time with your husband,” he answered, his face finally mirroring hers, the furrow in his brows disappearing, his lips turning upwards.

“And I meant that,” she said earnestly, sealing her words with a kiss on his lips. “Cause I do want to focus on other things. I want to go on tour with you, watch you pour your heart out in front of thousands of people every night and wait for a sweaty hug right off the stage, like you do whenever you watch me play.” At that his smile grew wider, his nose crinkling cutely. “And I want to start working outside the court, maybe even have my hand in training another British Wimbledon champion, who knows,” she laughed at that prospect, because it barely seemed real, but Niall squeezed her waist as if to let her know it doesn’t have to be a joke. “I want to have a somewhat normal house life and yeah, have some children with you,” she shrugged, both of them looking at each other with admiration. “That’s what I’m most excited about right now. Besides, you know my knee’s been starting to act up and I don’t want to risk it getting worse. And I’d hate to have to quit because of an injury, I want to go on my own terms.”

Niall didn’t want to dwell on it any longer, so he focused on the latter part of her speech. “Do you think our child could be a Wimbledon champion? Could you actually imagine it?” he asked with a grin, probably already imagining little blond haired versions of themselves running around with tennis rackets in their hands.

Lucy laughed. “Well, I’d say our child could be anyone they’d want. Even Wimbledon champion.” She leaned in for a much needed kiss, but all he gave her was a peck, his head apparently filled with thoughts he just had to share now.

“That would be quite sick, actually.” His eyes were shining while looking at her, not even really focused, like he was picturing their future. “Mummy and daughter. Or son. Maybe you could even present the trophy!” He got so excited, Lucy could do nothing but laugh. How did they go from nearly fighting to making their potential child a champion, she didn’t know, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. “No, but seriously, would you be okay with our child playing? Professional? Would you like to be a coach?” He turned serious, focusing on her once more to gauge her reaction.

“If they wanted to play, of course I’d be fine with it. I’d worry and warn them about things, but I wouldn’t stop or discourage them. But I would not train them. I mean, I might be like a co-coach. Or an advisor.” How he coaxed her into actually discussing it, she did not know, but it was a power of his, making her want to do anything that got him this happy and excited. “But I wouldn’t be able to draw a line between being a mum and a coach. I’ve seen a lot of this on tour, and it’s not always bad, but not everyone is right for that. I know I’m not,” she admitted, shrugging. “But I would never push our children to play tennis. Okay, I might teach them how to play, but like for fun, not as a career.”

To Niall it didn’t seem possible that there was something his wife wouldn’t be able to do. She was a super human.

“I think once they see how awesome you were on court, they might want to be just like mummy,” he said with a grin, pinching her waist playfully.

“Well, let’s hope they won’t aspire to be like daddy,” she chuckled.

“Heeeeeey,” Niall whined with mock offense.

“Get bras and knickers thrown at them on stage.”

“Hahahaha, it’s not actually the best feeling,” he admitted.

“Okay, let’s stop this talk about children, before you get any actual ideas, because I do still have a few tournaments to play and whatnot.” She patted his chest and made a move to climb off his lap, but he only tightened his hold on her, not letting her go anywhere.

“But you do want to have some, right? Like, sooner than, let’s say, ten years from now?” He asked, genuinely curious as they never discussed it properly. Children had been mentioned here and there, but nothing more deliberate.

“Yeah, I do.” She nodded, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

“Okay. ‘Cause I want that too.” He leaned down to kiss her, properly this time, releasing all the earlier insecurities and frustrations into the kiss.

When their lips parted, Lucy combed her fingers through his hair, before speaking again, the subject of children bringing another thing to the front of her mind. “But first, I was actually thinking of buying a new house,” she admitted. “We talked about it when we got engaged and I think I’d actually want one now. I love this one, but I don’t know, I’d kinda like to get a new one, start a proper home once I’m done.”

She loved the home they were in now, it was the place where most of the important moments happened in their relationship, with Niall having it since before they even started dating. It was here where he said he loved her for the first time. He asked her to marry him here. They came back home to each other time and time again here. But it also wasn’t exactly ideal. The problem was never the fact that it was theoretically his house, not theirs. It just wasn’t a house she wanted to grow old in. She loved it, but it wasn’t theirs, not in the sense of ownership, but in a scene of making it personal. She also wanted a space that would truly be theirs, from the beginning, where none of them ever lived alone.

But it seemed like she didn’t have to even try to explain it to him, his face lighting up with a soft smile, planting a kiss on her cheek before speaking. “Yeah. I actually love that idea.”

~~~~~~

Lucy was able to stay home in London for over two weeks, before she had to travel to Montreal. It made her more than happy because it meant she was with Niall for One Direction's fifteenth anniversary, which was also the day the news about the band’s comeback were being released, with their new single coming out two days later. The announcement was planned to go out at 8pm UK time, but they all decided to have dinner and spend that evening together, meeting at Louis and Eleanor’s house. When they arrived, Liam and his wife, Maya were already there, Harry and Ines, his girlfriend of three years, arriving only a few minutes later. They’ve met like that before quite a few times, sometimes with Louis’ and Liam’s kids running around, so Lucy was more than acquainted with everyone, feeling completely at ease.

Even though the meal was delicious, they were all so excited and nervous, they couldn’t even sit still. Lucy noticed Niall’s knee bouncing two minutes after they sat at the table, putting her hand on his tight to at least try and calm him down.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can do this, can we tell the world now?” Louis whined, throwing his head back exasperatedly.

“I am honestly so stressed right now,” Harry joined in.

There was no missing of the group’s anxiety, everyone looking around, checking the time every few minutes.

“The food is delicious, but I think I might actually throw up,” Liam said, his body slacking against the chair.

“How about some stronger drinks to calm down? Or shots?” Eleanor proposed, all of them drinking beer or wine with dinner.

There was an instant chorus of agreement, Louis getting up to fix the drinks. They all moved from the table to lounge on the couches, none of them able to stomach any more food, no sounds in the room other than the soft music playing in the background and a quiet murmur of a few words shared between them.

“Okay, let’s do it!” Louis exclaimed, coming back with a tray full of shots.

“Cheers!” The boys said in unison once everyone grabbed a glass. The alcohol burned Lucy’s throat, her eyes screwing shut for a minute.

“Another one?” Niall proposed, not even a second later.

Lucy shook her head, watching her alcohol intake, as always when she was in the middle of the season, Maya also refused, but everyone else downed another glass, leaving two full ones meant for the girls. Liam and Niall looked at each other, before shrugging their shoulders at exactly the same time and grabbing another glass.

“How much longer?” Ines asked, looking around in search of some clock.

“Twenty eight minutes,” Niall replied after checking his watch.

“Oh, I can’t believe I almost forgot, congrats on Wimbledon once again, Lucy, that was absolutely amazing,” Maya said with a smile.

Everyone in the room either texted or called her or Niall on the day she won, but that acknowledgement face to face was nice.

“Thank you, it was crazy,” she gave a grateful smile, after everyone added their congrats, Niall throwing an arm around her shoulders to bring her closer. She caught the proud look he was giving her and put a hand on his knee in an appreciative manner.

“Do you think we could come watch you play in the US Open?” Harry asked, redirecting his attention to Niall right after. “We’re free then, right?”

“Yeah, I made sure of that,” he confirmed proudly.

“Umm…” Lucy hesitated for a second, trying to explain how it works. “Yeah, I can get you tickets, no problem, it’s just hard to plan it a little bit, because I don’t know how deep I’ll go.” She didn’t want them to be bored at the first round match, but she also couldn’t predict when her last match would be. It still felt surreal, that she would play her last game in less than two months.

“How incredible would it be if you won that one too?” Liam asked with a grin.

“Mental,” Louis agreed.

“I reckon she could do it,” said Eleanor, looking at Lucy with confidence.

Because their bodies were touching, Lucy could easily feel Niall’s body tensing in reaction to the conversation, the memory of their recent fight still fresh in both of their minds. She didn’t turn her head to get a better look at him, but squeezed his knee as a reminder that it wouldn’t change anything for her.

“Don’t bet any money on me, though”, she laughed, before changing the subject. “Are you walking any fashion weeks this year, Maya?”

While she listened to the answer, Niall reached for her hand splayed on his knee, slotting their fingers together in a silent thank you. That’s how they spent the next couple of minutes, trying to keep conversation going, Louis making sure everyone had a drink in their hand. There was a nervous tension in the room, even though they knew what would happen, all the posts queued up, the reaction they would get was a question mark. They could only hope, basing their expectations on previous love they always got from their fans. But it had been years and things changed, yet it was impossible to prepare for disappointment.

“Oh shit, just one more minute,” Louis said, looking at the time on his phone.

“Let’s count it down!” Ines proposed.

So they did, the last ten seconds, just like on New Year’s Eve. To think of it, there were some similarities, looking forward to something new, things changing, entering a new era almost. When they came to zero, you could almost hear a pin drop. It only took a second for all of the guys’ phones to go off, indicating one notification after the other. They were all stood in a circle, their respective better halves right next to them. Lucy had her arm around Niall’s waist, looking through his shoulder to read some of the comments, the whole world starting to freak out. There wasn’t one person in the room who didn’t have a huge grin on their faces. The women look proudly at their men, knowing how hard they worked, how much love and passion they put into the band. It seemed like all the guys looked up at each other at the same moment, taking deep breaths and stepping closer to wrap one another in their famous four way hug. Eleanor wrapped her arm around Lucy’s shoulder, who looked at the other woman happily, noticing tears pulling in her eyes. She reached her other hand for Ines, who also grabbed Maya and they just stood like that for a minute. The band squeezing each other and whispering excitedly among themselves, while their lovers embraced as well, forming their own little group, looking at their loved ones with so much awe, their eyes glistening with emotion.

After a minute, Harry pulled slightly away, looking behind him at the women. “Come on, get in here, girls,” he said, beckoning them over.

So they joined them, each one next to their man, Lucy squeezed between Niall and Ines. They were all holding each other tightly, a one of a kind bond. There was no comparing it to what those four guys had, but they all felt like family. They were all connected and none of them would have it any other way, forming genuine friendships they all cherished.

Niall twisted his head to the side to kiss Lucy on the crown of her head, before she turned her head as well to meet him in a proper kiss. They were both so happy, they couldn’t stop smiling, their teeth clicking against each other. But they were just so ecstatic. There were no words to describe the feeling. And Niall’s happiness was through the roof, because he was so appreciative to share that moment with Lucy. Nothing could beat having her with him, being able to share it, because it felt like a once in a lifetime thing. Having her to support him and calm him down when needed, and now to share that joy with her. He truly felt like, if she wasn’t there beside him, he wouldn’t be as happy as he was. And maybe that was wrong, maybe he shouldn’t feel like that, but he did. Because his wife made everything better. It was that simple. Seeing her proud and smiling, made the whole situation better. Sharing anything with the people you love makes it better. Whether it’s sadness, problems, successes or happiness. And there was no better thing to share than love.

September 2025

It was impossible to prepare for a moment like this, Lucy thought finally walking back into the hotel room in New York. It was after 3am. She finished playing, her last professional match ever, about an hour and a half ago. Even after the little goodbye ceremony after her loss and a press conference, it still didn’t feel completely real. She had quite a few of those farewell moments, almost at every tournament she played this year. She knew what was coming, after all she made that decision in December. Maybe it was because she didn’t know which match would be her last, didn’t know how far she'd go, just happy with every win she got.

She felt such a mixture of emotions, it was hard to wrap her head around it all. The goodbye she got was amazing, the organizers playing a little video of all the years she competed, including her triumph on Flashing Meadows, and messages from fellow players. She felt a bit sad, but she always did when she lost. A bit proud, because she didn’t go without a fight, the match an over two hour, three sets battle. Excited because a part of her was waiting for that moment, when she’ll be able to truly think about the future and focus on upcoming projects. But most of all, she was simply appreciative. That she had such a good season, that she was able to play every tournament she wanted, that she gave it her all and was able to keep playing on a good level, that after finishing this last game, she was able to look out into the crowd (who was giving her a standing ovation) and not only see Niall, but also her parents, Mia, Harry, Liam and Maya.

Once the door to their hotel room closed, Lucy was exhausted. She had a quick shower right after the match, so technically she could go straight to bed, but her mind was buzzing.

“Lulu,” Niall said, leaving his shoes by the door and walking up to her, his hands going to her waist immediately, to bring her close to him, “how are you feeling?”

Lucy rested her head on his chest, quiet for a moment, trying to make sense of her mumbled thoughts. “I… I’m feeling good?” she said, but it sounded more like a question. “It’s… surreal, still. Maybe ask me tomorrow?”

“Of course.” He cemented his words with a caring kiss to the crown of her head.

“But I’m okay, really,” she assured him. “Kinda sad, kinda happy. Relieved?” Her answer was more like a question again, like she was looking for a right answer, but wasn’t sure if it was one. “I don’t know, it doesn’t really seem like it’s the end yet, you know, that I won’t play like this again.”

He hummed, thinking for a quick second before asking another question, “are you going to miss it?”

“Yeah, probably,” she shrugged. “It’s going to be weird, not having to train, no tournaments to prepare for or look forward to. But it’ll be fun to see what’s ahead, you know? Slow down a bit, maybe, explore other things in life. And spend time with you, obviously. Watch you and the band. It’s gonna be good, baby.”

“Will you miss your team?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But I hope we’ll keep in touch. Maybe work together again, you know, if I open that training centre or if we get someone to manage… Who knows.”

He nodded, “I’m really proud of you, you know? I’m in awe of your decision, to do things your way.”

“Thank you. It was the right call, I can tell. The next few months will be weird, I’m sure, but it’ll be worth it. I’m actually really excited to see what’s to come.”

Tennis was all she knew. In a way, it became her routine. Sure, there were some tournaments changes, but it was also pretty much the same for years upon years, ten months of traveling, playing here and there, hard court, clay, grass, then hard court again. A quick vacation after that before going back to training full force to prepare for the next season. Over and over again. And now, thinking about the future might have been scary, but it was also nice to do something new. Have a fresh mind. Have an option of doing something else, an opportunity to just travel by Niall’s side for a bit. To focus on something other than tennis. To explore what else she might be good at.

“Oh, could you maybe ask Harry and Liam to join us for dinner on Thursday? With the girls, of course. Louis is still in California, right?” She was pretty sure she mentioned something about it when they talked after the match, but her tiredness and emotions made it hard to focus. She also asked her manager to actually organise it, make a reservation at the restaurant and all, so she didn’t know any specifics yet.

“Of course, don’t worry, they know it’s happening, I’ll send them the details in the morning. And yes, Tommo is still there, he’s meeting us in LA.”

They had a few more days off, the guys had to be in Los Angeles on Monday to do some promo for their reunion and second single, Niall made sure to book time off for all two weeks of the US Open, but because she had lost in the quarterfinals, it was just Tuesday, well, very early hours of Wednesday, giving them some time to relax.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” he proposed, planting another kiss on her head, her arms still tight around his waist, her cheek pressed to his body, so close she could feel his heartbeat underneath it.

She shook her head slightly, pulling away to look at him. “I can’t, my mind is spinning. I need it to stop first.” She put one of her hands up to tread through his hair, before cradling his cheek. She then raised up onto her tiptoes to join their lips, the kiss starting slow, but growing more passionate with every lick into his mouth. Her hand travelling under his shirt and the other going back to his hair to tug at it slightly, let him know exactly what she meant. “Are you too tired?” she asked parting for a second to catch her breath, before moving to work on the delicious skin of his neck.

Seeing his wife like that always did things to Niall. It wasn’t even about her having very clear intentions, but how he knew she wanted him to take care of her. How she needed him. Lucy was an absolute beast on court, Niall’s favourite text to send her before a match was “go get them, tiger”. But after the game was finished, especially after a tough battle, she was nothing but gentle. In desperate need of hugs, kisses and someone to take care of her. It wasn’t the first time they had sex in a situation like that, her needing to quiet her thoughts, but also to give up control, after having been so focused and alone on court.

And right now was no different, she wanted to get lost in Niall, needing the quiet only he could bring her.

“Never too tired to help you,” he assured, grabbing her neck gently to pull her lips back to his. To Niall, there was no bigger compliment than this, this incredible woman not only counting on him, but giving herself to him completely, body and soul.

And as he grabbed her thighs to pick her up and carry her to the bed, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind, that he would take care of her. In the best possible way.

taglist: @stylishmuser��� @verorax​ @georgiahoranxx​ @exoticniall​

[rememberingbarnes]

~Flashback Part 1~

Twenty eight years old. It’s too young to die. And yet that’s what most people thought I did. But before that, I was a clueless idiot who didn’t see what was right in front of me.

::1943::

“Why do you keep doing this, Steve? Oh my god watch out!” I heard as I walked into an alleyway and saw two familiar blondes and one I had never seen before. The third was beating on my best friend as I walked up behind him.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” My growling voice came as I yanked the bastard off Steve and threw him back. The guy lunged in for a punch and I easily dodged it before slamming my fist right into his arrogant jaw. Which, in turn, sent him running for the hills.

“Steve, are you okay?” There was the other blonde, Mira. Her and Steve jokingly called each other twins but they were just cousins who were born on the same day. His mother and hers were sisters and when her mother was killed in a car crash, Steve’s mother took her in. That’s when they became close as thieves. Even closer than he and I were.

“You’re insane, you know that, right?” I asked with a shake of my head, offering my arm to get him up. “Sometimes I think you like getting punched.” 

Steve was all of about five and a half feet tall with no muscles and zero body fat. He had been sickly most of his life but that never stopped him from dreaming. It’s what I admired about him even if it made me worry he was going to do stupid shit that would get himself hurt.

A piece of paper fluttered to the ground and I scooped it up, seeing his name written on it and my eyes narrowed into slits. 

“Oh, you’re from Paramus now? Seriously? You know it’s illegal to lie on your enlistment form, right?” Mira walked up to me and yanked it out of my hand to look at it. She was just an inch taller than him and thin but she was athletic, toned, and just straight perfection. Those blue eyes of hers could pierce right into your soul as if she could read you without you needing to say a word. Her body could stop a truck. Her personality? She was sharp witted, sarcastic, but with a heart of gold that would help anyone no matter the personal cost to her.

“Steve? Are you really lying like this?” The way her voice broke, you knew she was worried and it took all of me not to reach out to her. We had all been best friends since before I could even remember; piled around a rickety table playing games while Sarah cooked whatever she could for all of us. “Why would you lie?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” If one thing was true about Steve, is he felt he had something to prove because he was smaller. He hated bullies. It was a thing with him. He always wanted to help people as long as I had known him. Getting a good look at me, his eyes traveled to my uniform. “You get your orders?” Mira’s eyes turned to me and there was a flicker of something but it was gone before I could even make out what it was. 

“The 107th.” That was something I knew would hit home for him. That was the exact regiment his father was with when the man died from Mustard gas. “Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow.”

I could hear Mira’s intake of breath and it cut through me. That woman had held my heart since the day we met all those years ago. I just never made a move because I was always going to go into the Army. It wouldn’t be fair to leave her behind to worry about if I was going to come home alive. There was something that always told me her feelings mirrored mine but she never acted on them either. And so this dance would forever continue.

“I should be going.” Steve’s tone was one of utter defeat. He hadn’t even heard Mira take in that breath. We shared a look before I put my arm over his shoulder and let out a chuckle, motioning to Mira too. 

“Come on, guys. It’s my last night! You both need to get cleaned up!” I threw his enlistment form out as we walked out of the alley.

“Why? Where are we going?” Steve and Mira asked at the same time. I always found it extremely eerie when they did that.

“The future.” Those two words was all I said as I handed the newspaper over to Steve, showcasing the article about the 1943 World Exposition of Tomorrow that was in town.

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 2

Word count: 2168

I look over in surprise as my front door opens, unsure of who it would be this early in the morning after a long night out. Betsy steps into my apartment, sending me a red-lipped smile as she closes the door behind her and steps out of her heels.

“Um, what time did you leave the club and why do you look like you’re going back at, uh,” I glance over at the clock, “Nine o’clock in the morning. Also, why the hell did you just barge into my apartment without knocking? I have so many questions.”

She rolls her eyes, tugging her pencil skirt down as she walks over to my pantry, opening it and pulling out the package of Oreos.

“If you eat any of those you have to buy me a new package. Don’t you dare mess with my Oreos,” I warn her.

“I have to go grocery shopping today anyways,” she waves me off, pulling herself up onto the stool next to me. “Roger called an emergency meeting this morning so guess who had to show up at the office at seven A.M., hungover as hell?”

“And you came over to my apartment after, why exactly?” I question, scrolling through the article of ‘seven easy ways to make money online.’

“I wanted us to suffer together,” she shrugs, laughing and pointing at number five. “I like this one, you’d for sure earn a lot of money if you sold your nudes.”

I click back to go to my Google search, mumbling to myself, “I don’t even know why I’m looking this up, I already found a good way to make money.”

“You did?” Betsy asks, making my head snap towards her in shock. I totally forgot that she’s here. “What is it?”

“Um, I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this,” I admit, turning my body towards her. “Because you always joke about it so I don’t really know what you think about it.”

“What is it?” She raises her eyebrows, plucking an Oreo out of the package. “Are you becoming a prostitute?”

“Close…”

“A sugar baby?”

I don’t respond so Betsy looks up from admiring her Oreo, mouth dropping in shock when she sees the look on my face.

“Oh my god, Y/N, what? You’re a sugar baby now?”

“I guess that’s the technical term,” I confess.

“Wait, for who? Let me see the picture of the guy. I didn’t know you were into older men, damn, is he at least cute? Or good in bed, hopefully? Do you know, have you met him yet? Did you sign up for one of those websites or-””Oh.”

“What? What’s ‘oh?’” Betsy questions, looming over my shoulder to stare at my laptop screen.

I pulled up Instagram while she was spewing questions at me to show her a picture of Clayton, and I guess I haven’t checked the app since last night because there’s now a notification that he requested to follow me.

“He’s the guy you were dancing with and talking to at the bar last night,” Betsy gasps dramatically, hitting my arm. “He’s young! And cute! And an athlete so you know he’s hella rich.”

“Seven million a year,” I murmur.

“What?” Her eyes are practically bulging out of her head. “Girl, hook me up with a teammate. How the hell did you become this guy’s sugar baby? No offense.”

“Well he asked me on a date, I said no, he found out that I need money and offered it,” I recap.

“How do you not want to date this man?” She screeches, clicking on a picture of him and another hockey player.

“Stop yelling, this is why Debbie hates me.”

She ignores my words. “I mean, look at his necklace chain peeking out from his shirt, Y/N, he’s hot as hell.”

“I’m not looking to date right now, Betsy, I’m young, I want to party and let loose.”

She rolls her eyes and grumbles about it but doesn’t make many other protests. She watches as I confirm his follow request and follow him back.

“Does Tyler know?” She inquires.

“No, Tyler told me not to bother him the rest of the weekend because he’s getting dicked down,” I answer.

“Are you getting dicked down this weekend?”

“I don’t know, he hasn’t texted me at all.” I look over at my phone, like it would make a noise now that I made that comment. “He said that he was going to make up the contract and get back to me sometime this weekend.”

“Who does he play for? The Arizona Coyotes?” She squints at the screen, typing something in on her phone. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of them. Hannah fucked one of the married guys on this team while his wife was in the kitchen.”

“That’s fucked up,” I mumble, scrolling through his profile.

“Yeah. Okay, so they have a game against the Columbus Blue Jackets today, but that’s at seven so he should be getting back to you soon.” She picks my phone up, staring at my lock screen of us at a wild party a couple of weeks ago. “I’ll figure this out, Y/N, don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried at all,” I raise my eyebrows at her, closing my laptop and grabbing my phone as I make my way to the couch. “In fact, I think I may take a little nap if you don’t mind.”

“Okay I added the team on snapchat,” she says, “And they’re in practice right now. So he should text you after practice.”

“Hey, can you shut up if you’re going to be here a while?”

“Actually, Brandon just send me a booty call. So I’m going to head out.”

“Close the door on your way out!” I holler after her.

~

Clayton: Hey Y/N, it’s Clayton

I can’t help but bite back a smile. I mean, obviously, we exchanged numbers and I have him saved in my contacts, who else would it be?

Y/N: Hi Clayton

Clayton: I had the time today to create the contract if you would like to come over and sign it

Y/N: Send me your address

He shares his location with me and I text him that I’ll be there in a half an hour. It’s all a part of my plan to make him wait. Since this is the first time that we’re hooking up I want to look somewhat presentable, so I check to make sure I’m wearing matching lingerie.

I pull a plain T-shirt and a nice pair of skinny jeans that shows off my ass, putting on minimal makeup and slipping my shoes on.

When I show up to the address Clayton sent me I’m just about on time.

Clayton opens the door with a slight smile on his lip, stepping to the side and wordlessly motioning me into his house.

“Nice place you got here,” I compliment, stepping in and looking around the large living area.

“Yeah, I share it with one of the guys on the team,” he tells me, closing the front door and making his way to what I assume is the kitchen.

I raise my eyebrows, following him. “So your teammate will hear us fucking?”

He laughs. “He’s barely home, it’s fine. So here’s the contract.”

I step forward to read over the rules.

Once a week Clayton will make a payment to Y/N of $500 cash.

The weekly payment is excluding the purchase of clothes, dinners, vacations, etc.

In return Y/N will do romantic things (such as have sex, go on dates, etc.) with Clayton.

Y/N will listen to Clayton’s demands.

The encounters will take place at both parties' places of living.

“I’m not listening to all of your demands,” I say aloud, giving him a look. “There are some things that I just will not do.”

He sighs but edits the rule to say ‘to a certain extent.’

“Also, I don’t want you sleeping over at my apartment. We can have sex there, yeah, but you can’t sleep over,” I command.

“Why not?”

“Because my friends tend to break into my apartment early in the morning and if you met them you would be scared away,” I respond. He laughs and I give him an offended look. “I’m serious!”

“Okay, fine,” he sighs but writes the new rule down.

We look over the contract together, confirming that it’s what both of us want.

“So are we doing this?” I question, looking over at him.

He gives me an expression of surprise. “Right now?”

“Well, yeah,” I say. “What’s a better time to start than right now?”

He shrugs. “Alright.” And before I can even react, tugs his T-shirt over his head and throws it onto the floor.

“Clayton,” I giggle nervously, shy for probably the first time in my life. I can’t stop my eyes from staring at his abs. Wow, how is it fair for one man to be so perfect? He’s rich, he’s athletic, he’s hot- he’s probably smart, too.

I snap out of my thoughts, forcing my eyes to move up to his face. He’s already smirking by the time we make eye contact and I force the eye roll that’s begging to come out down.

“Come here,” he orders, his voice suddenly hushed.

I don’t even have to tell my feet to move, they push me forward until my chest is pressed against his. His large hands grip my hips and I feel the need to hold my breath, looking up into his shimmering green eyes.

His head moves down slowly and I hold back from pushing mine forward, instantly connecting our lips. Soon, our lips connect and the wait was worth it.

I feel like all of the oxygen is getting sucked out of my lungs- like I could kiss Clayton forever and it still wouldn’t be enough. Our lips glide slowly against one another as my hands place themselves on his chest, blatantly feeling him up.

He pushes me gently into the kitchen counter and I take the hint, jumping up on it without disconnecting our lips. My arms move to wind themselves around his neck, pulling him in as close as he can get between my legs as his hands slide to my ass, gripping it and squeezing it.

My lips move from his to place soft kisses down his cheek and jaw to his neck, sucking a hickey right below his ear. He moans at the action, lifting me up with ease.

“What are you doing?” I squeak out, not expecting to be picked up.

“Taking you to my bedroom so we can finally do this.”

~

I take deep breaths, trying to get my breathing back on pace after the adventure of a night I’ve just had. We spent two hours in between the sheets when Clayton, the most in shape boy I’ve ever slept with, finally decided to call it a night.

I wanted to whine and beg for more but at the same time I needed a break myself.

Once my breathing is back to normal I swing my feet over the side of the bed, wincing at the ache in my lower half, but force myself to stand up. I slowly search the room for my panties, pulling them on before Clayton’s voice causes me to jump in surprise.

“Where are you going?” He questions.

I look up to see him watching me from the entrance to his walk-in-closet. He’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and I stop myself from asking him to bang me against the doorframe.

“Back to my apartment,” I answer, hooking my bra on.

“No,” he shakes his head.

“No?”

“You’re staying the night. You have to stay the night.” His tone makes it sound like it’s a demand.

“No I don’t,” I disagree.

“Rule four,” he points out.

Rule four. Y/N will listen to Clayton’s demands.

I know I have a right to object, but I don’t think sleeping over counts as something that goes too far over the line. Plus, this encounter paid my rent for this month and it got me laid, so I feel obligated to stay and please him.

I give him a look but push past him to enter his closet, ignoring the sparks that shoot through my arm at the contact of our shoulders and the cute chuckle that he lets out.

I pull one of his T-shirts on as I head back to his king sized bed, climbing in and scrolling through Instagram on my phone.

I don’t know how long it takes but soon I feel another body climb into the bed behind me, arms winding around my torso and resting on my stomach as I’m pulled into another person.

Clayton watches me scroll through my feed for a while before I turn my phone off, setting it on the bedside table.

We don’t talk before we fall asleep.

[psychefm]

talk to the hand [ TIMOTHEE CHALAMET ], [ REED ‘NEWT’ NEWTON ] is the new kid on the block around here. at [ TWENTY ], the [ CIS BOY] works at [ BABBAGE’S ] in the mall and, like, [ HE ] totally reminds us of [ CHANDLER BING ]. oh snap! what? their favorite movie is [ HOME ALONE ]???? so is mine!

ABOUT THE MUN.  i used to lie to y’all, my mom didn’t say no, i did

i hate this site man. and that’s it, that’s all you gotta know about me. 

BIO. good news!!!! i’ve successfully replaced all my emotions with jokes !!!! tw bullying

reed newton was born in london england to sylvia anne bixby and cornelius otis newton and honestly, he’s regretted it ever since.

newt was an accident. he was the product of one of his mother and father’s first ever lustful encounters, and their subsequent shotgun wedding so honestly they both spent most of newt’s formative years in the honeymoon period. some of newt’s earlier memories are of him walking in on his parents doing the devil’s tango in the broom closet and his nanny rushing to cover his eyes. good times. 

honestly newt walked in on his parents doing the do more times than any kid should have before the age of nine. and then he walked in on a parent doing the do with a non parent. in other words newt got an eyeful of his father and the pool boy and it wasn’t long after that that his parents went through a long and messy divorce. once again, good times. 

his mother decided to pack up their things and move herself and her nine year old very impressionable son to nebraska, because fuck that kid amiright. newt was quickly designated as the skinny weird nerdy kid with glasses and a funny little accent, and so as you can guess he was pretty mercilessly bullied from age nine to eighteen. he really never stood a chance.

i feel like this is a good time to mention that newt’s mother was a sex therapist, which is not the same as a regular therapist but still, therapist is in the name. he should have been able to talk to his parent in this time of strife and get some level of support right? nope. sylvia bixby is well known for writing a men are from mars, women are from venus like book on communication and dating and all that, so his mom was generally on book tour after book tour. but maybe she would have been supportive if she was ever actually around, right? again, nope. 

unbeknownst to newt whenever his mother was around she was not only just casually psycho analyzing her only child for shits and giggles, no, she as also writing about it. newt’s mother wrote an entire book about raising a highly repressed teenage son with newt as the star, and you can only guess what that did for newt’s stellar high social status in high school. nothing great. 

did newt ask her not to publish it once he realized she had wrote it? yes. did she still publish it? also yes. so newt and his mother no longer have the greatest relationship. holidays are awkward.

things were not better on his fathers end, but it wasn’t because his father particularly did anything nearly as tone deaf as his mother. yes, his father was a famous erotica novelist and yes that made newt’s life a living hell, but newt luckily wasn’t the subject of those books. neil transitioned from writing fabio like novels to writing some lgbt fiction which, great for representation, horrible for your teenage son who is now known around school for having a dad who writes porn. to top it off, neil ended up starting a long term relationship with the pool boy and gaining a pseudo step son from it. benjamin caley was not only more athletic than newt, not only more attractive than newt, but also better than newt in every single way imaginable which was a real self esteem booster. his father actively prefers benji and every time newt visits him in england over the summers he comes home hating himself a bit more.

which works out because after the book being published, most people kind of hated newt too so at the very least he was on trend. there was a lot of classic nineties bullying you know, wedgies, swirlies, shoving newt into lockers. all very cliche. newt would tell his bullies as much, but it never really went over that well. 

but then finally newt graduated. he was free from the hell that was the public education system and his childhood household. he graduated with honours, moved out of his mother’s house, and got himself his own apartment with a roommate near the mall where he got his first real job. 

goes to university for software engineering. has an internship at apple that he’s absolutely terrified to mess up. has an old beat up car that was like the first big purchase he ever made with his own money, so he loves it to death even though it’s a piece of shit. 

PERSONALITY.  do you fear me? don’t feel so special now. i have social anxiety. i fear everybody.

this is my first time playing newt so all of this is subject to change BUT

INSECURE. newt is a weird mix of cripplingly insecure and weirdly confident and there is no in between ever.

WITTY.  humour is and always will be the only defense newt has against anything, so he makes a lot of jokes especially when he feels uncomfortable.

EMPATHETIC. newt is a big push over when it comes to emotions like he would never do anything to hurt someone unless it was by accident or he was provoked or you’re his step brother benji or either of his parents in which case he will run you over with his car on sight. but no really, if newt is in a position where he has to hurt somebody he will do absolutely everything in his power to either not or avoid the situation completely. 

AWKWARD. sometimes honestly, although it depends on the day. v clumsy though. usually he can try to make his awkwardness funny but does he always succeed? the answer is no. 

HEADCANNONS.  actually all of my systems are nervous.

has to drink like six cups of coffee or tea a day. very serious about his tea because english. also has vegemite on his toast. 

can actually cook pretty well even though he prefers to eat takeout. cooks because it’s cheaper and he’s a broke ass student yk. won’t take money from his parents ever, and will straight up give it away if it’s forced upon him. 

writes star trek fanfic for fun and has a kind of weird relationship with writing because of his parents honestly?? but he enjoys it so, maybe the apple in fact does not fall from the tree. 

has commitment issues because of his parents divorce but don’t we all. 

developed a stutter after all the divorce drama because he thought it was his fault. he later had to see a speech therapist. his mother later had a fwb relationship with this same speech therapist. newt wanted to die. 

traded his glasses for contacts and you will literally only see newt in glasses if he rips or loses his contacts or if he’s at home. 

in love with all things sci fi, will rent and see every sci movie ever made if he can 

accidentally knocks down at least one display in babbages per day so there’s that.

speaking of newt runs a small side gig out of babbages where he fixes up tech because paying for university, rent, and car insurance out of pocket gets up there. so if you need someone to fix your desktop newt is your guy. 

is actually a pretty good flirt when he’s drunk or feels comfortable. is constantly teetering between painfully insecure and confident. 

is very bi and very hesitant about it because of his father and all his feelings towards that, but he will eventually stop fighting it so much soon hopefully. has probably had a few drunken hookups with guys but tries to convince himself that is just a drunk thing yk. 

is allergic to bees so death has a kiss just for him i guess. 

loves video games but that goes without saying

has anxiety and takes medication for it, one of the few healthy things his mother has ever done for him. 

speaking of his mother if newt ever sees her book about him in a book display he will spend as much time as needed taking each book and hiding them in obscure places so that no one will ever be able to find them and buy them. he read the whole thing because he had to know and yep he absolutely hates it. 

goes by newt and only newt so that no one can make the connection between him and his mother or his father upon first meeting him or hopefully ever. a lot of the kids he went to high school with still know though and with the accent and everything, he’s not fooling anyone who has at least heard a rumour 

idk what else y’all imma fite tumblr for making me write this twice

WANTED CONNECTIONS.  actually wait, i take that self deprecation back, i’m great.

ROOMMATE. because newt can’t afford his place on his own between all his expenses. please. think of the shenanigans. 

ON AGAIN OFF AGAIN THING. kind of inspired by chandler and janice tbh. these two are pretty incompatible and whenever they’re together all they talk about is breaking up with each other but whenever they’re broken up and they see each other they somehow always find themselves waking up in bed together the next morning. it’s a mess.

NERD SQUAD. give me newt’s friends from high school please and thanks. just a crew of absolutely dweebs and misfits. 

FWB/EWB. self explanatory considering newt’s big commitment issues but i just imagine like making out in the back room and like hooking up in the break room and someone leaving like a damning article of clothing in there and the two of them scrambling to get it before anyone notices. just fun. 

EX. self explanatory but yes, an ex gf or bf, an ex fwb or ewb, give me all the exes please. 

REPEAT CUSTOMER. this person is always paying newt to come fix their computer and other tech and newt just doesn’t understand how they mess it up so badly. like he doesn’t get how or why technology hates them as much as it does, but he’ll take the money.

HATESHIP. just good old fashion animosity. could be hate from school or the fresh hate upon working in the mall together or they can just be newt’s least favourite customer and he can hate them for that. 

CRUSH. maybe newt had a crush on them in school. maybe they had a crush on newt in school. maybe newt has a crush on them now. maybe they have a crush on newt now. 

and anything else tbh. i’d love a smoking buddy for newt, a friend who he can never get any work done around like when they’re together they’re just like !!!, someone who used to be one of the popular kids who he is now getting along with or still holding a grudge against, his big gay awakening in school maybe like the first masc person he had a crush on, someone who tries to get newt to party and come out of his shell, someone who idk steals from babbages skjsdj idk man i am open to anything at all so just like this and we can brain storm if anything!

[lifeawoke]

ramble on about our fave's kid(s) please

if they had a kid ask meme    -    open    ! 

i WILL and i will do it for all of them because i love the bezukhovs very much.

name: marya “masha” pyotrovna bezukhova (honestly should just be bezohova in my opinion but whatever)

gender: female

general appearance: dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin. not particularly special looking, like both her parents honestly. nose that goes right down and ends with a curve rather than a point. 3a hair, never a hair out of place (thanks aunt marya). a little tall for a girl, average weight for her height. 

personality: marya had a lot more say in masha’s raising so she takes after her a little bit. also, she’s the eldest of the bezukhovs, so she’s more strict and responsible than her siblings. she’s religious, not to the same point as marya, but where her dad’s a spiritual religious person & her mom’s a church-going, pray when something bad happens/you want something religious person, she’s more of both. not very artistic but smart and practical. knows a lot about politics from her dad. caring & protective, especially of her younger siblings. not soft spoken but not loud like her parents might be. will stand her ground though. more of an ambivert than anything, appreciates silence though. i love her

special talents: is the only one of the rostov-bezukhov kids to remember any english & often translates things, mostly political articles, for her parents/family.

who they like better: pierre, he’s a little more serious than natasha. but if she had to choose anyone ever it would be aunt marya or grandma natalya even.

who they take after more: pierre. facts. i kinda explained it earlier. 

personal head canon: marya, like her aunt, is a lot like sonya. she has the most potential/reason to marry up or rich and leave the family, maybe even travel, but is far too dedicated to her family to leave before the youngest are grown up.

face claim: i hate this no

next kid !

name: elizaveta “lisa” pyotrovna bezukhova 

gender: female

general appearance: a bit of an oddball, light brown hair, hazel, eyes, tanned skin. looks a lot like pierre, despite being a short little thing like natasha. has long arms though, something you wouldn’t really notice unless she points it out (and she will point it out to complain about them). a big mouth like natasha and more brown-ish lips, which she also hates. lisa also has “curly” hair, although its more of a wave so maybe 2b-2c. it suits her well enough, considering hair is mostly pulled back in her generation/time. a lil thicca than the rest of the litter. chubby cheeks that suit her round face. i’m kinda thinking a half-guatamalen e.liza s.canlen.

personality: was raised with a lot more freedom than masha, so a little less prim and proper. this was kinda the point where nat & pierre already knew they were gonna end up popping out kids the way disney pops out remakes so they kind of just went with the flow and got a lot more.. parenty with lisa. this didn’t mean much. she’s affectionate like natasha and passionate like pierre. doesn’t share his interests, though; lisa’s more of an athletic type. is a big complainer, which is sometimes endearing but less so the older she gets. fairly feminine but doesn’t have this obsession with boys and marriage the way her mother did and the way that girls were expected to. gets along well with her sister. more of an extrovert. 

special talents: she’s an excellent horse rider, also says fuck side saddles because she heard a queen in denmark did it once and she’s only gotten better since. 

who they like better: she’s freest around pierre & she loves that but she relates most to natasha, so it’s 45/55 tie honestly.

who they take after more: natasha; they both like riding (lisa more than nat) and both have personalities that demand to be seen in a mostly endearing way. 

personal head canon: growing up lisa was probably closest to nikolai andreyevich, and you can see even as they grow up how close they are. there are even moments when lisa goes to coco before she goes to her own sister about something. it scares some guys off as lisa gets older but she doesn’t really mind.

face claim: if e.liza s.canlen was half gutamalen, i’d say her

the boy !!

name: pyotr “petya” pyotrovich bezukhov

gender: male

general appearance: okay you know o.scar i.saac? imagine him young, tall, and SKINNY. except not when he’s young, he’s a chubby kid and it’s the cutest thing. some pictures for reference. he also is p confident looking, if that makes sense. maybe not the long hair but maybe when he’s younger? 

personality: mirrors his namesake a lot. young kid that’s just so weirdly mature it’s like... who are your parents bc it’s definitely not nat & pierre. except it is. he gets a lot of extra love from natasha who has been wanting a boy for so long so she could name him after petya. he’s a mama’s boy, #respectwomen, an intellectual like his dad. has a lot of the same problems as his dad in his youth– indecisive & sometimes hedonistic. i mean he grew up rich it does things to you. but i love him dearly. and he does find his purpose earlier than pierre did, finds love in government stuff, which he half gets from his dad and half from his older sister, who cared a  l o t for him. is super close with marya, gets along well with lisa. he isn’t very sentimental though, although he has a soft side for his mom and eldest sister, he can be too objective for some people. an introvert but not shy.

special talents: he can knock out a novel a day if he wants to; his attention span is a mile long

who they like better: oh natasha. she loves that kid & he loves her

who they take after more: pierre ! petya admires pierre for sure and i can imagine pierre feels a lil more comfortable teaching his son about puberty nd sex and stuff than he does his daughter so i imagine they speak freely to each other

personal head canon: petya was even going to run off into the army like petya ilyich without knowing that his uncle did the same thing, but natasha caught him and explained to him what happened to her brother & he’s been jaded by the idea of fighting in a war ever since.

face claim: o.scar i.saac but half russian bhsbdj

the last one! in my head they have a lot more but we shall discuss them at a different time. 

name: yeva “yevochka” pyotrovna bezukhova

gender: female

general appearance: an oddball again, but less so. dark brown eyes and straight blonde hair. a skinny, long face and a very unique nose, one you don’t ever see– i’m thinking like a.licia v.ikander’s nose. it adds character to her already freckled face. her skin is many shades lighter than her father’s but she tans well and often.  very feminine in appearance and dress but looks shy. very skinny, almost sickly skinny like her mom is. average height. 

personality: more of the observing type. spoiled but not necessarily bratty (at least not compared to most rostovs growing up). enjoys the arts, especially performance ones, but doesn’t really enjoy being a part of them. she’s insecure like lisa is but isn’t as vocal about it, which gives this sad kind of air to her. she’s more religious like marya, almost soley because she spends the most time with marya. lives life slowly. very chill but clearly lacks purpose. not very comfortable with who she is as a person. ends up being very close to her parents because she would rather spend time with them than other kids. 

special talents: she’s an excellent chef because she spends a lot of time in the kitchen (usually with grandma natalya until she died, then just on her own going through old recipes) 

who they like better: probably natasha because she admires her outgoingness. 

who they take after more: pierre ! doesn’t have his passion but has his slight awkwardness.

personal head canon: yeva grew up watching her father a lot, but felt the most embarrassed when he’d say something that wasn’t well-received. this proclivity towards second-hand embarrassment stops her form doing a lot & putting herself out there. 

face claim: a.licia v.ikander’s nose on a much paler, freckled, and blonde a.dria a.rjona. it sounds weird but i think it?? kinda works for what i’m trying to get across

[veryxobservant-archive-blog]

Masks fall

So this is not easy for me. I have only recently gone back to writing fanfiction and fiction in general (yes, original fiction). And I posted this on A03 originally.

So a little Spider-Man fanfiction, bit fluffy.

________________________________

The pages felt soft under her fingers, familiar and comforting. Michelle Jones had found comfort in books for years now. Life had dealt her a hard card, but she was coping. She had found ways. Usually one of them was to hole up somewhere with a book on her lap, ready to escape this world for a better one, because this world was not as ideal as others. Heroes in books had it a chance of being heroes. For her, it was an uphill battle, one she wasn’t sure she could win. And yet she tried. But for tonight it was Michelle and her book and the quiet roof of the apartment complex she lived in. It was, in many ways her place. She had a blanket, some snacks, water and pillows stored in a box up there, for evenings like that. It was still relatively warm, so she did not need the blanket yet. But she was also not going back down anytime soon.

There was a sound out of place. It sounded like someone screamed “Oops.” But this high up, this was unlikely. And with her view of the door down, there was no way anyone could just come up and surprise her. She might be in another world, but she was still aware of her surroundings. A flash of movement caught her eyes before she saw someone fall face first onto the roof. Michelle jumped in surprise. It was not every day that someone fell onto the roof you were hiding on.

And not just someone it seemed. As Michelle squinted her eyes in suspicion, she noticed the familiar red and blue of a certain arachnid-named vigilante with a so-called secret identity. Not that she bought it. There were just too many coincidences with that one.

“Graceful, Spider-Man. Ten out of ten. I have to say, I have never seen a spider fall that soundly onto their face!” Michelle smirked a little at that as Spider-Man looked up, at the same time athletically pushing up into a stand. That was certainly something MJ could not do. A small chuckle escaped her as she saw the mask of the vigilante: One eye seemed normal, the other seemed widened in fear almost. “Your eyes are crooked. I guess you damaged yourself.”

“Sorry.” Spider-Man poked himself in the eye quite hard, probably trying to rectify the situation of the giant eye.

“Having a spider black eye?” Michelle followed. It did seem like he had gotten one too many knocks on it.

“More like a spider concussion”, Spider-Man answered. He seemed a little restless, anxious even. It didn’t take a genius to have an idea why. Or well it took someone having an inkling on who was hiding behind the mask. The fact that he did not seem to use anything to alter his voice, did not help the matter. “What are you doing up on the roof at this late time?”

Michelle took a moment to consider her reply. She pulled her legs close to her chest, after placing the book carefully on her box. With a few well-trained movements she had her yellow robe carefully tucked around her legs to protect them from the cold breeze. “I’m looking at the stars”, she replied. Spider-Man looked up immediately, causing the teenager to chuckle again. However, when he looked down again, his eye seemed to go crazy, as if it was unable to focus on her. The other still seemed fine. It made him look slightly crazy.

“We’re in New York, there is light pollution, so you can’t see the stars”, the young vigilante pointed out.

“I was messing with you.”

“Bold.”

“Says the guy in a red and blue onesie, who face-planted onto my roof and got a case of crazy eye right now.”

His reply came instantly: “Hey! It’s not a onesie!”

“Is it one piece of clothing?”, MJ asked. Spider-Man nodded, he almost looked sheepily at that. “Then it’s a onesie.”

“It is a high-tech suit!”

“High-tech onesie!” Michelle countered. Now it was on him to chuckle lightly. So apparently he did like this exchange as well. So it didn’t ruin either of their evenings. That was good. In a way, it was even a highlight for her. Her evening had not been too good. That was why she had come up here to hide away from what was down in the apartment. For a moment there was silence. He had no comeback it seemed and that was interesting. But the tone seemed to shift suddenly - despite the rather weird way his eye still went crazy. He had been shifting his weight from one leg to the other - a typical Peter thing - now he placed himself firmly on the ground like he did when he got serious. He also seemed to stand up a little taller. His body language remained open, curious and worried.

“Why are you really up here?” It was as if he knew her thoughts at that moment, but Michelle knew that that was impossible. As the mood had shifted between them, so had her thoughts. He did look worried and she hated that. Michelle didn’t want people to be worried about her, because she feared being hurt again. She knew it was a weird logic, but sometimes logic just did not apply to humans. In many ways, it didn’t apply to her life. She lived in New York. There were superheroes and aliens in New York, New York defied logic often. And so she considered telling him the truth. She considered telling him that she was hiding up here sometimes. She considered telling him that she was hiding from her stepfather. But she didn’t want to, because he was someone who helped people. He was the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. He helped the little people, too. She didn’t need Spider-Man. She could handle this alone.

However, the breeze seemed to make the decision for her. It caught her thin robe and lifted it away from her leg. Once noticed MJ scrambled to pull it back over her legs, but she could see by the way he stiffened. Suddenly there was tension in his body, the skintight suit showed that of rather nicely. She had an idea why.

“MJ, what happened to your leg?”, he asked. Michelle immediately noticed he had called her by her name, by how she told him he could call her as her friend. It showed that this was a genuine reaction. It wasn’t acted, thought through and mentally checked for the consequences. This was Peters genuine reaction to seeing bruises on her legs. It felt horrible to Michelle. It felt like someone drove a small knife into her throat as she realized what it meant. He had seen the evidence of how hard life could be at her home, that she could be vulnerable. It was something she wanted to hide. But she knew there was a way to deflect.

“MJ? I mean….you could have just announced yourself as Peter…” He flinched a little at that. The way his shoulders moved made it clear, that he was confused, probably at how she knew he was Peter. He reached for his - still malfunctioning - mask and pulled it off.

“How did you know?” He asked, his face a mixture of panic, pain, and confusion. A colorful array of bruises adorned his face.

“I’m very observant,” Michelle said, hoping it had successfully distracted him from her bruises. But his look went back to her legs and now she could truly see the worry in his eyes. But it was not directed at Michelle knowing his secret, it was because of her leg. At that moment only one thought crossed her mind, a lie.

“Lifting in dancing. Some of the guys are very clumsy.” He nodded, but the worry remained. Without being invited he just flopped down next to her, without a single ounce of grace, as if Spider-Man was turned off entirely and this was purely Peter, her friend from school in a ridiculous costume. “What happened to you?” She asked in return.

“A robbery. There were people so I had to take a few punches to… make sure nobody gets hurt, except for me. I heal fast.” MJ knew as much already. She had seen faint bruises on him before, but they disappeared fast. She had already had the thought that he healed fast due to that secret. Now she had confirmation in a way. “Will you tell anyone?”

“Your secret?” She asked. She shook her head. “Of course not. You’re the one superhero who takes care of the little people. I’ll never tell anyone.” The superhero reached for her box and pulled out one of her books. Without another word he started to read, settling into a comfortable silence with Michelle. She turned to her own book, letting him sit next to her until she got up, needing to actually go back down and sleep there. “You should get some sleep, too. School and all that.” He pulled the malfunctioning mask back on and gave her a thumbs up. Jumping up he ran to the edge of the building and jumped from it… Michelle gasped as no web came from his wrist and for the second time that night she heard his “Oops” as a scream as he fell onto the fire escape. “I’m good!” He assured her right away as he finally managed to get a web out of the other wristband and swung away. Michelle shook her head amused and finally turned to back down and to bed as well.

*-*-*-*

In the next two weeks, things changed for Peter, but he had to admit, he loved the change a lot. Michelle now sat with him and Ned and she casually slipped him some articles that would help him with being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, mostly about deescalating a situation, how to talk to traumatized children and such. It was small, but he really, really appreciated it. Today he found an article in his backpack about the Sokovia Accords, with several pages highlighted.

He put them on his bedside table to read when he came back from the patrol that night, not knowing that Michelle herself would prevent him from doing so. He was just wrapping up helping a young man out of the Hudson river - alcohol and a fight with his girlfriend were involved - when he got a text. Karen helpfully showed it to him right away. It was Michelle.

“Could really use a friendly neighborhood arachnid faceplanting onto my roof right now” was what it said. The text caused his stomach to cramp uneasily. He knew something was wrong. He didn’t know everything about Michelle, but she was proud and she would not outright ask for help like that. This was her asking for help. It might not be in the letters, but he knew. And he also knew it was…not good.

When he arrived on her roof - this time no faceplanting involved, it was rather graceful, thank you - he could not see her. He saw her spot and her box and her blanket piled up.

“MJ?”, he asked, leaving his mask on for now, not sure if someone else was perhaps here or not. A beep from the mask alerted him of the heartbeat under the blankets the same time he heard MJ say “Here” from under there. It sounded so weak and shaky. A cold shudder ran through him as he ran. He usually wouldn’t run, but he had to run in this case, something in him told him to. She had already lifted the blanket for him. It took only a short glance at her for him to see what was wrong. Her arm looked funny and not normal at all. Broken “What happened?” he asked as he knelt down next to her.

“My stepfather got drunk. He…flailed and hit me in the face with the elbow and I fell down the stairs.” She said. He saw the bruise under her eye. It didn’t look good.

“I’m taking you to the hospital!” He announced.

“No. Peter, I can’t. I…can't afford it.” The vigilante smiled under his mask.

“Do not worry about that, okay? Spider-Man has ways, trust me. That arm needs treatment!” He could see it in her eyes, that she knew he was right. She hated this situation much more than he did, too. And he did hate it. He felt rage at her stepfather, but also at himself. He should have asked her more. He should not have let her explanation slide. He should have considered her pride. But he couldn’t. Peter picked her up carefully, so she could put her good arm around. He found her quiet after that. As Peter jumped from the roof - his webs working this time, as he had repaired the suit - he felt her hide her face in her shoulder, shaking, probably with fear. He couldn’t really blame her. It was not every day, one swung with spiderwebs through New York to a hospital. Peter could imagine that this even hurt quite a bit.

Once at the hospital, he gave her to the people working there and went to pay for it, with a credit card given to him for emergencies, in cases of people needing medical attention and not being able to afford them by themselves. He looked back at her before leaving the hospital, for a while. He called his aunt to tell May that he would be in the hospital for Michelle, so she wouldn’t have to stay alone - that was assuming she would stay alone like that.

When Michelle was left alone, her arm in a cast, a soothing creme on her bruises, Peter Parker was allowed to go into her. He had told the nurses, that Spider-Man had called one of Michelle's last contacts, assuming correctly that it had to be a friend who could contact everyone else that was needed in order to make sure the teenager was taken care of. He smiled at the girl as he came closer.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”, he asked her as he simply sat down close to the bed she was in. She gave him a weak smile.

“Bruised pride. A spider saved me.”

“A spider in a ridiculous onesie, might I add,” Peter said simply, echoing her thoughts from the other night and she knew why. It was just to make her smile. And it was working. “My aunt is coming to get us. She is arranging for you to stay at our place tonight…for a sleepover. I could even put on a ridiculous onesie.”

“No ridiculous onesie required. And Spider-Mans onesie is kind of cool.”

“Thank you,” Peter said with a smile.

“Thank you, Peter… it feels pretty good to have a friend. One who always has your back.”

[angelichl]

Hi! Hope you are well! Just curious, but I see you sometimes tag posts as “characterization”, and I just wonder what are some of your fave fic character things about the boys that have been proven/disproven in real life? I.e Harry is often written as loving sweet sugary coffee when we now know he prefers things strong/black, etc. Do you have anything like that that’s surprised you? Or you still like to write about anyway to fit the narrative you are looking for? Sorry, I hope this makes sense!

this is a super interesting question! I’d love to hear what y’all think about this as well, so send me a message if you have thoughts you wanna share. my response is under the cut bc it’s long, sorry 😬

to me, a lot of what fic is about is taking perceived character traits and expanding on them or putting them in different contexts. for example, we know harry is a gigantic music geek and has taken it upon himself to explore and learn as much as he can. in a fic, then, taking this trait and applying it to something else (perhaps he’s really into literature, or environmentalism, or etc) is what it’s all about! that way, it’s a balance of what you explained - maintaining their real life personalities while also molding it to fit the context of the story. it’s hard for me to say which I lean toward more, but I try to stay as true as I can to my perception of how they are irl while writing fic. if I actually achieve that is debatable lol. but what’s fun about fic is that you can always ask, “what if he was like this?” and run with your idea. idk I mean perhaps in another universe, harry would prefer sugary coffee, or maybe in our universe he’s lying about drinking black coffee, etc., so it’s all up to your own interpretations/headcanons and what you want to write. (personally I love that he drinks black coffee bc I do too, so I’ve always tried to keep that accurate ahaha)

my favorite characterization of louis is when he’s the confident, funny, outgoing friend who will gently tease others and act as a mentor/protector. I see this a lot in college au’s and I absolutely love it, how he exhibits big brother tendencies and is also really affectionate and assured and not afraid to show people how much he loves them. idk I feel like in an alternate timeline, if louis wasn’t mega famous and instead went to uni and had a relatively normal life, he would be the guy everyone adores and loves to be around, the person people go to for comfort and advice and also just to have fun. I also love how his sexuality is portrayed in this way, it’s just comforting thinking of how confident, proud, and at ease he would be.

similarly, I loveeeeee writers tapping into louis being a hipster (and the irony that he would hate being called a hipster) bc a ton of evidence points to him as such, mostly how he rejects trends at all costs lol (see: avocados, game of thrones, stranger things). vintage clothes, individualized/authentic music taste, attitude toward trends, etc.

for harry, I’m a huge fan of any characterization that focuses on how much of an eccentric, introverted-but-needs-attention, weirdo he really is. a lot of this comes from rs and behind the album, and I actually have a huge list of harry characterization I want to add into fic—mostly his music taste, athletic activities (hot yoga!), proclivity for jumping into bodies of water and losing his clothes, alone time (reading at a cafe all day!), and his jealous/petty tendencies. I love fics that write harry as getting emo sometimes but not always knowing how to express those emotions without pulling away for a bit first and engaging in introspection. I love fics that show how he can really be a geek for something, finding a topic he’s passionate about and really exploring it.

it’s so fascinating to me (and also scary) how much reading fic has influenced my perception of who they are as real people. sure, there are fics where I’m like “irl he would never do that,” but for the most part I think we’ve managed to create a body of literature that accurately encapsulates and explores the possible personalities of the real people we’re trying to describe. idk, that might be a hot take and it’s also what makes me uncomfortable about writing rpf, but I do think a lot of people hit the nail on the head with characterization just from using the info we know about them as real people. for example, a lot of the rs article about harry was new information, but I honestly didn’t find any of it surprising, bc we’re all so emotionally involved in what they do and how they act and that kind of constant thought about someone you see but don’t know personally is really interesting. this probably makes zero sense, sorry, my thoughts on this are a complicated mess.

I tag info for characterization on my blog as a reference for myself. I don’t write harry or louis as accurately as I want to and I’m trying to fix that with every fic I write. it helps to have these small details recorded, and to let them inspire a fic. it’s also interesting, as you mentioned, how perceived ideas about who they are have been disproved, and how there are trends in our fandom of the type of fics we write and they way we characterize H/L (2015 hipster health nut green smoothie yoga harry characterization, I’m looking @ u ) which may not be the most accurate, but are still cherished and enjoyed.

also, there are times when I read and write fics with certain characterizations that are probably not true to real life, but are still fun to write (ie my clairvoyant fic, where louis and harry “hate” each other, louis is a menace, harry is constantly annoyed, and they argue a lot). in these fics, it’s less of saying “they are like this” and more a question of “what if they were like this?” which is cool and interesting and exploratory. anyways this is rambly and confusing, but my point is that fic allows so much room for the author to make personal choices about what and how to write, which is a beautiful thing, because we have so much variability in our fandom’s fics, and there’s something for everyone.

[charmossy]

hey guys. vic here again w my second chara. i’m watching the amerks play rn so honestly, perfect opportunity to write char’s intro yeeeet.

CHARLOTTE MOSS is 26, BISEXUAL, FEMALE. SHE is THE GIRLFRIEND to JACOB ASPEN, they have been together for FIVE YEARS. Their resemblance to SHAY MITCHELL is uncanny. CHARLOTTE currently is A JOURNALIST. The media portrays them to be MISCHIEVOUS but they are really CONFIDENT. We hope they have what it takes to be with a professional athlete. [ VIC, 20, EST, SHE/THEY]

➤ BASIC INFORMATION

NAME: Charlotte Moss NICKNAMES: Char OCCUPATION: journalist AGE: 26 DATE OF BIRTH: February 28th ORIENTATION: bisexual GENDER & PRONOUNS: female; she/her

➤ PHYSICAL INFORMATION

HEIGHT: 5′7″ WEIGHT: 125 lbs DOMINANT HAND: right TATTOO(S): none SCAR(S): none PIERCING(S): both lobes, three cartilage on her left ear FACE CLAIM: Shay Mitchell

➤ PERSONALITY INFORMATION

TRAITS (+): confident, determined, self-assured, magnetic, grounded, ambitious, hardworking TRAITS (-): mischievous, stubborn, over-independent,  impulsive

char is the kind of person who knows exactly where she stands and stands with unwavering confidence in that. she takes no shit and has learned to hold her own very well, determined to be far more than just a pretty face. there’s a reason she’s good at almost everything she’s put her mind to, and it lies in her drive, her passion, and stubborn streak that never seems to die.

but there’s a fun-loving woman beneath all that ambition and drive --- you know the saying, work-hard, play-hard. she’s an impulsive person, whether it’s chasing a tip for a story she’s working on without thinking ti through or going on for an adventure on a whim. char doesn’t like the DULL life, and god forbid anyone takes that away from her.

get on her bad side, and you’ll be subjected to the longest silent treatment you’ve ever received –and yes, char will manage to keep it. that being said, char is extremely loyal to those closest to them, and very amiable towards those they meet

➤ BACKGROUND INFORMATION

HOMETOWN: Portland, OR CURRENT RESIDENCE: apartment in DC. LANGUAGE(S): English BASIC EDUCATION: high school COLLEGE EDUCATION: Columbia, Boston University( journalism )

➤ FAMILY

PARENTS: robert moss ( father ), alexia moss ( mother ) SIBLINGS: one older brother (ryan), dale moss -2 yrs

➤ THE STORY ( CW: DEATH, ACCIDENT )

--- many of char’s friends joke that she was born with a pen in her hand and the question ‘ why? ’ on her lips, and they probably wouldn’t be all that far off. she was writing for as long as she could remember, dumb little handwritten stories in notebooks and longer neatly typed snapshots as she got older. there was a curiosity that drove her and a confidence about herself to act on that curiosity.  

--- charlotte moss had no doubts what she wanted to do, the only one in her first grade class that gave a very specific answer when asked: ‘ what do you want to be when you grow up? ’, ‘ i want to be a reporter for the new york times.’ and god damn, that’s what she was going to be. she was on every school newspaper from elementary school, junior high, and high school. she wrote for the student section in the local paper, interned the summers after her junior and senior years.

--- she graduated valedictorian of her class. she was accepted into her top choice school with a hefty scholarship. she had everything. but the thing about having everything is you can lose so much.

--- it’s the spring semester of her freshman year and things are going so damn well. she got a 4.0 in the fall and she’s hell bent on keeping that trend. she was already a hit with the school newspaper, preparing to run for editor her sophomore year. spring break is coming up, and instead of going home, the family is going to meet in sunny arizona for a short family vacation. char and her eldest brother made it, their parents and youngest brother did not.

--- for the first time in char’s pretty life, things came crashing down and they crashed down hard. she fell apart, only just barely holding it together with the support of her elder brother ryan. she returned for one week with intent to finish the semester as she felt that’s what her parents would have wanted. but when she returned all she could feel was the pity and whispers that followed her. after all, the plane crash had been all over the news, and char in all her charm and fun had been popular enough for people to care --- and for once, that was a vice.

--- always the exuberant, mischievous, curious girl, grief made char a complete shell of herself. she dropped out a week later, slept on ryan’s couch and tried to pick up her life. she began to write again, more memoir and fictional than news stories. the keys of her laptop against the backdrop of ocean waves.

--- she picked up a job as a waitress, hard work that kept her busy and her mind off what she an ryan had lost and she began to look forward again. 

--- in need a fresh start, she applied to boston university and began anew. it was still incredibly difficult, but she picked up journalism once more, found comfort in writing for the school newspaper.

--- and then, enter jacob aspen. char hadn’t known he’d been on the hockey team when she met him. all he’d been then was someone who’d managed to make her laugh at a party she’d been dragged to and truly forget about death for a little while. char had always been so incredibly independent, always so sure, so hell-bent on not falling in love until she’d achieved her dreams, but a lot had happened in the last year, and she felt herself falling for jake anyway.

--- they were just friends first. for the first time since the accident, char was returning to her mischievous and impulsive self, climbing on rooftops in boston, riding the subway for hours while typing out an article on her phone. jake even if he didn’t know it, had helped to heal her --- proved that the world was still beautiful and good.

--- they started dating char’s senior year against her better judgement. they graduated. char was chasing her dreams at the new york times, and jake began chasing his in the nhl. they both supported and loved each other, and maybe that’s why they put their relationship on hold for a little while.

--- but good things always find a way back to each other and jake and char found jake on her doorstep one night ; and they’ve been strong ever since no matter the distance between them

➤ MISC 

--- char has achieved her dream of working for the new york times. she works on some lower level investigative journalism pieces that take her all over the country. she loves the pace and thrill of it all. she hates being bored and she is never bored with the nyt ( well, most of the time ),

--- she doesn’t know how long her relationship with jake will last, even though they’ve been dating more or less for five years now. their lives are both so busy and take them criss-crossing over the entire country. but the does know that she loves him a lot ; and it scares her sometimes she doesn’t like being dependent on others. 

➤ SOCIAL MEDIA

INSTAGRAM: charmossy ; 3k followers TWITTER: charmassNYT; 5k followers SNAPCHAT: charchar64 ( private )

➤ CONNECTIONS

--- JAKE ASPEN (boyfriend) -- goes without saying haha. i would love to have jake here.

--- old friends from college -- they could be from her brief columbia days, fell out of touch; could be from her BU days.

--- ppl jealous of her relationship with jake lol??

➤ PINTEREST BOARD ( coming soon )

[whatshehassaid]

Favorite Things

I’m bored out of my mind at.... hell, I don’t even know what time it is. 

Food and Drink

Favorite Fast Food Restaurant? 

Umm, it really depends. I like Chinese/Asian type foods and pizza and a lot of things, so... I can’t really choose one? I really love Thai Express though.

Favorite Ice Cream Flavor?

It’s a toss up between pistachio and mint chocolate chip. Chocolate chip cookie dough is really good too

Favorite Chocolate Candy?

Ferrero Rocher or anything with a chocolate/hazelnut mix

Favorite Fruity Candy?

Sour Skittles or wine gums

Favorite Flavor Starburst?

Either the pink or the red

Favorite dish at Olive Garden?

I’ve actually never been to Olive Garden.

Favorite kind of sushi?

Uramaki (California rolls)... I also like maki.. (oh boy, now I’m craving sushi)

Favorite Asian dish?

I’ve really only had Westernized type Asian food, so.. I love spring rolls, sushi (see above), chow mein...

Favorite Italian Dish?

There’s a lot to choose from there as half my extended family is from Calabria... so...  chicken parmigiana or angel hair primavera

Favorite food of all time?

There’s a lot to choose from there... I really love steak though. Like, a little too much. 

Favorite way to cook a steak?

Medium, sometimes medium well

Favorite pasta dish?

Angel hair primavera

Favorite cookie?

White chocolate macadamia nut

Favorite fast food french fries?

Mcdonalds

Favorite cereal?

Raisin Bran. Don’t @ me

Favorite breakfast food?

Mmmm, omlettes. 

Favorite pizza toppings?

Pepperoni, green pepper, sometimes pineapple.... sometimes olives.

Favorite fruit?

It’s a tie between strawberries, cherries and pomegranates. 

Favorite vegetable?

Broccoli

Favorite dessert? 

White chocolate cheesecake.

Favorite comfort food?

Homemade chicken soup

Favorite way to eat bacon?

On its own, honestly.

Favorite thing at a buffet?

I don’t really go to buffets..... 

Favorite pumpkin flavored treat?

Pumpkin spiced lattes........................ don’t start with me

Favorite dish at Thanksgiving?

Stuffing.

Favorite cake?

Strawberry shortcake... or angel cake w/ strawberries.

Favorite ice cream sundae toppings?

Hot fudge, maraschino cherries and whipped cream

Favorite thing to cook?

I love making pizza..

Favorite soda?

Cherry coke.

Favorite alcoholic drink?

Vodka coke.

Favorite drink at Starbucks?

Skinny cinnamon dolce latte

Favorite flavor coffee?

I just.... coffee? and espresso... I love espresso.

Television & Movies

Favorite 80′s movie?

Um, toss up between ET, the Indiana Jones movies (Last Crusade has always been my fave), and The Shining.

Favorite Harry Potter movie?

Toss up between Prisoner of Azkaban and Half Blood Prince in the HP series... Crimes of Grindelwald (so far) in the Fantastic Beasts series.

Favorite Hobbit from Lord of the Rings?

Bilbo.

Favorite Simpson’s character? 

Lisa.

Favorite cartoon cat?

Felix the cat. 

Favorite TV sitcom?

I Love Lucy. Does that count as a sitcom?

Favorite cartoon?

Peanuts (does that count?) or Looney Tunes

Favorite scary movie?

I’ve watched a LOT of horror movies, but Halloween (1978) hands down.

Favorite funny movie?

Hmmm... I don’t watch many comedic movies, honestly.. Bridesmaids? I don’t know..

Favorite celebrity?

Y’all really gonna ask this? We all know it’s Jude Law.

Favorite South Park character?

I never really got into South Park, tbh.

Favorite chick flick?

Um, The Holiday and maybe Confessions of a Shopaholic....

Favorite Pixar movie?

I’d have to choose three ‘cause I can’t choose one... Ratatouille, Coco, and Toy Story

Favorite Family Guy character?

Don’t really watch it. I watched the first season. Stewie, I guess?

Favorite Leonardo Dicaprio movie?

Aw, you gotta do this to me? Top 3: Titanic, The Great Gatsby and Shutter Island.

Favorite Actress over 50?

Do people who are dead count? ‘Cause I’d choose Marilyn Monroe in a heartbeat.

Favorite Marvel movie?

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Favorite TV Show?

A tie between Hannibal and Twin Peaks.

Favorite cancelled TV series?

Hannibal. Definitely Hannibal.

Favorite show on the Discovery Channel?

I don’t really watch it all that much.... can I use a show from the History Channel instead? (Hunting Hitler)

Favorite classic movie?

Niagara (1953) or Dracula (1931)

Music

Favorite Beatles song?

Golden Slumbers

Favorite string instrument?

Acoustic guitar

Favorite instrument?

Piano

Favorite band or music artist?

I have too many so, Neutral Milk Hotel, Nirvana and Lana Del Rey.

Favorite music genre?

Indie, alternative, whatever.

Favorite style of dance?

I love the way swing dancing looks.

Favorite boy band?

Oof, ya outtin’ me. NSYNC.

Favorite disco song?

Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough - Michael Jackson or Night Fever - Bee Gees

Favorite 80′s song?

I love a LOT of 80′s music so... I can give you a few (I can’t choose one, that’s impossible): Call Me - Blondie, Take on Me - Aha, Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler, You Spin Me Round (Like a Record) - Dead or Alive, A Criminal Mind - Gowan, Maneater - Hall & Oates, Smooth Criminal - Michael Jackson (THERE ARE A LOT MORE)

Favorite cover song?

Byaginc’s version of Losing My Religion - REM and I also really like Lo-Fang’s version of You’re the One That I Want.

Favorite one hit wonder?

Sex and Candy - Marcy Playground

Favorite song you’re embarrassed to like?

Ummmmm.. if I have to pick one.. Irresistible by Jessica Simpson (also the version with Lil Bow Wow is a banger?)

Favorite foreign band/artist?

Catatonia (does that count, I mean, I’m not Welsh.. so). I also like Pink Floyd.

Travel & Recreation

Favorite state you’ve visited?

I’ve only visited one state in the US and it was Florida.

Favorite country you want to visit?

Italy or England

Favorite thing about America?

If you’re referencing the US, I live in Canada, so... I don’t know?

Favorite kind of vacation?

I love beaches... but I also love art and architecture so *shrug*

Favorite car?

1950′s VW Beetle. 

Favorite road to drive on?

I don’t drive.

Favorite way to travel?

Car, I hate planes.

Favorite beach?

I haven’t been to many honestly.

Favorite place to go with family?

DISNEY WORLD.

Favorite vacation you’ve taken?

The first one I ever went on to Universal Studios in Orlando.

Favorite fictional place you’d want to visit?

Hogwarts, let’s be real.

Favorite ride at a carnival?

Those swing carousel things.

Favorite thing to do at the beach?

.....read

Favorite rollercoaster?

I do nOT do rollercoasters.

Favorite theme park?

Disney DISNEY D I S N E Y

Favorite thing about traveling?

I love nice hotels, I don’t know why that’s my fave part, but it is.

Nature & Animals

Favorite dinosaur?

Um, I’ve never really thought about that? T-Rex, I guess?

Favorite breed of dog?

Poodle.

Favorite season?

Autumn

Favorite flower?

Hiscibus

Favorite animal at the zoo?

Elephants... if they have them or pandas

Favorite type of bear?

Panda bears

Favorite natural disaster?

....what kind of question is that?

Favorite reptile?

I love snakes.

Favorite animal?

Tie between cats and sloths.

Favorite bird?

Owls.

Favorite thing in the sky?

The moon.

Favorite thing about a rainy day?

Hearing rain on the roof.

Favorite sea creature?

Can I say the Loch Ness Monster? (haha) Jellyfish.

Favorite color rose?

Light pink or dark red.

Favorite small mammal?

KITTENS!

Favorite big cat?

I love snow leopards. 

Favorite thing about spring?

Flowers.

Favorite wild animal you’d like as a pet?

A sloth.

Sports

Favorite sport?

Soccer

Favorite extreme sport you're too scared to do?

Does snowboarding count?

Favorite Olympic sport?

Figure skating.

Favorite football team?

Don’t watch American football.

Favorite basketball team?

Don’t really watch that either.

Favorite hockey team?

I know I’m Canadian, but I’m honestly not that invested. I’d choose the Maple Leafs ‘cause I’m from TO, but they’re.... aw f ul.

Favorite baseball team?

Blue Jays

Favorite sport to play?

Soccer.

Favorite winter sport?

I do not do winter sports. I’m a klutz as it is.

Favorite sport you wish you were a pro at?

Figure skating would be AMAZING.

Favorite professional athlete?

Serena Williams, Evgenia Medvedeva

Favorite sport to watch in person?

Hockey.

Childhood

Favorite nursery rhyme?

Didn’t really have a favorite.

Favorite childhood memory?

My grandfather. 

Favorite board game?

Monopoly or Scrabble

Favorite children’s show?

I looooooved Looney Tunes. I still do, honestly.

Favorite toy as a child?

I had a Barney the Dinosaur plush (I had Barney everything)

Favorite teacher?

My sixth grade teacher was a pretty cool dude.

Favorite thing about school?

Art class.

Favorite age?

Don’t really have one, maybe 4 or 5?

Favorite Christmas present?

My mom bought me a N64.

Favorite Dr. Seuss book?

Green Eggs & Ham

Favorite Halloween costume you've worn?

Technically I wore it as a teen, but the Silk Spectre II costume I wore when I was 17.

Favorite lunchbox snack?

Dunkaroos!

Favorite Winnie the Pooh character?

Pooh & Eeyore. 

Favorite thing to do during recess?

Read.

Favorite superhero?

Wonder Woman.

Favorite video game?

Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time.

Favorite color Power Ranger?

Pink.

Favorite fairy tale?

Does Beauty and the Beast count?

Favorite game to play outside?

Catch the flag.

Fashion & Beauty

Favorite department store?

Does Sephora count as a department store?

Favorite place to shop?

There’s a lot of places I love to shop. Mostly bookstores though.

Favorite store in the mall?

Indigo/Chapters (I love my books)

Favorite perfume/cologne?

YSL Black Opium or Chanel’s Coco Mademoiselle

Favorite hair color?

On me? A mix of auburn and dark brown

Favorite makeup you can't live without?

Eyebrow pencil 

Favorite shoes?

My thigh high dark brown suede go-go boots. ;)

Favorite occasion to dress up for?

I’ll honestly dress up for anything. I love dressing up.

Favorite hairstyle?

Anything wavy/curly with or without braids.

Favorite outfit you have?

Right now I have a super cute wrap dress that I like.

Favorite soap scent?

I like the smell of Dove soap, is that weird?

Favorite article of clothing?

I love high waist mini skirts.

Favorite place for a piercing?

Upper ear.

Favorite piece of jewelry?

Right now I’m a dork for the replica pendant from Crimes of Grindelwald. I also love this bracelet/ring/hand jewelry thing I have.

Favorite thing to wear to bed?

Sometimes lace and silk stuff ;) Sometimes just huge t-shirts

Favorite luxury brand?

YSL

Random

Favorite candle scent?

I love coconut scents.

Favorite extracurricular activity?

.....reading? (again)

Favorite day of the week?

Sunday

Favorite holiday?

Does Halloween count as a holiday?

Favorite website?

Well, I’m on Tumblr QUITE a bit...

Favorite way to communicate?

Usually face to face.. I hate talking on the phone. Text message is a close second.

Favorite Youtube video?

I love this dork. [x]

Favorite kind of house?

Victorian

Favorite car color?

Teal?

Favorite baby boy name?

I don’t know...

Favorite baby girl name?

Charlie, Evelyn

Favorite thing to do when you’re sick?

It’s an odd habit of mine to watch The Mummy or HP or Spice World for some reason

Favorite person you’ve never met?

Famous? Bryan Fuller Person in my life? MY THREE BEST FRIENDS!

Favorite question you’ve answered so far?

I don’t know...........

Favorite thing you’ve done in the last 24 hours?

I literally slept most of the day. Don’t judge me.

Favorite place to meet up with friends?

Kitty Cafes and.... cafes in general.

Favorite hobby?

Reading, making art.... listening to music

Favorite way to cheer you up?

Anything to do with Jude Law usually does the trick, bahaha

Favorite thing to look forward to?

Leaving this god awful small city to go explore other places.

Favorite kind of gift to receive?

Things that are heartfelt... things that people make whether it be handmade or... whatever... it’s really sweet.

Favorite crafty thing to make?

Does sketching count? Funny story, I used to get in trouble in art class in high school for sketching human anatomy (hands, collarbones etc) instead of reviewing art history notes, which I also loved by the way.

Favorite way to relax?

Reading, bubble baths.... other ways ;)

[thats-what-sidhe-said]

voltron actor AU part 5

If I keep writing this, I’m going to need a title, huh? I like the impermanence of Tumblr posting. Less pressure. I made a tag, though.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | My AO3

---

Lance Serrano isn't a natural athlete. He freely admits that he's logged more hours playing Madden NFL than any on-field team sport. But playing Voltron's space cowboy, McClain, doesn't let him spend much time on the couch.

"My agent pitched it to me and I was like, great! Fly around in my stylish spaceship, flirt with a few ladies, maybe throw a punch or two." Serrano is an animated speaker in real life, energy crackling as he expresses every word with his hands, arms, and sometimes, his full body. It's easy to see why he's such a compelling figure on screen. "Surprise, surprise. I show up on set and James is all, 'here's your workout plan!'" James Griffin is the show's stunt coordinator, an Air Force vet who commands the respect of the stars. Voltron's legendary action scenes must be executed precisely for the safety of all involved, and when Griffin speaks, they listen. "We call them the MFE.s," Serrano says, of Griffin's team. "The M-- F-- Experts. When it comes to the action, they talk, we listen. The MFEs make us look amazing, and they send us home each night in one piece. Best stunt team I've ever known."

Today Serrano is training with Griffin in the studio's gym, along with his co-star Keith Kogane. Kogane is no stranger to stuntwork. In contrast to the easygoing McClain, Kogane's Akira is a tough fighter, slow to talk, and fast to punch. Kogane does as much of his own stuntwork as permitted, and he ranked number one on Men's Health Action Stars To Watch for 2018.

"Why is my article all about you?" Lance demanded. He and Keith and Pidge were in their director's chairs behind the camera, waiting for the lighting team to finish preparing the set. Keith was reading a book and Pidge was working on a tablet.

Keith yanked Lance's phone from his hands, skimmed the article, and shoved it back in Lance's hand. "Because you wanted me there."

"To make me look good!" Lance said. Pidge put both hands on the arm of his chair and leaned over to see.

But Serrano holds his own next to Kogane. They fight side-by-side against Griffin - who is standing in for the villain-of-the-week - and if Kogane's the more experienced fighter, you'd never know it from this.

"I'm at the gym every day at seven a.m.," Lance said, when asked how he fits a fitness routine into sixteen hour days. "I'm there after lunch. I'm there when we wrap early, or when we wrap late. You want to look like this," he sweeps a hand over his body, "you gotta put in the work." He flashes a smile and you can almost hear a ting when light bounces off his teeth.

"You look pretty good," Pidge said. She stuck out a finger and scrolled past the rest of the article to the photos.

"Which gym do you go to every morning at seven a.m.?" Keith demanded.

"The cool people gym," Lance said smugly. "What, weren't you invited?"

"Invited where?" Shiro walked up with his artificial arm fully attached. Curtis was beside him, carrying his sides - the script pages and information needed for the day's shoot.

"The world of imagination," Keith said. "Also known as the world where Lance is in the gym at seven a.m."

Shiro snorted.

Lance did a head count. "Where's Allura?"

"She's still in makeup," Shiro said. "Her marks have to light up today, so Matt's working on her. Where's Hunk?"

"Garrett's off in the healing pod for this scene," Pidge said.

Keith put his book away. "I hope Allura's not late. This day is going to be long enough already."

"If she is, Mitch will start with close-ups." Shiro gave Keith an affectionate smile. "You got something to do after work?" He held out his hand and Keith linked fingers with him.

"I don't know." Keith smiled back. "My boyfriend might be working la- hey!" Pidge had flicked water at him.

"Yes," Lance said to Curtis, though Curtis hadn't spoken. "They're always like this."

"No, we're not," Keith said, dabbing at the water with a Kleenex, so he wouldn't smudge his makeup. "Like what?"

"Gross," Pidge said. "Take pity on Curtis. He has to kiss Shiro. Are you even gay, dude?" she asked Curtis. All eyes turned to him.

"I, uh," Curtis said, taken aback. "I've kissed guys before. Non-professionally. But, you know, girls. That's happened. And I'm still figuring some stuff out."

Pidge stared for a moment, then said, "That's a terrible answer. Do you have a publicist?"

"No?" Curtis said.

"The press is going to ask you that when we do interviews," Shiro said. "You should probably have an answer ready."

Curtis nodded. "Okay. I'll work on it."

A P.A. called them to the set, then. Allura joined them at the last moment.

---

"Paladins!" Keith said. He turned to take in all the Paladins, standing at even lengths in front of the throne. He knelt in front of the throne itself. "My Princess," he said, bowing his head.

Allura stood up. "Rise, my dear Akira," she said gently. She touched his arm gently and Keith rose to his feet. "Tell me; who is this stranger?"

Keith turned. "This is Adam, of the rebel Druids. He has come to join our fight."

Curtis bowed. "Princess."

"But you're human!" Shiro exclaimed.

"Yes," Curtis said, turning to Shiro. "I have lived here since I was a small child. I never expected to see one of my own kind again, especially one so comely." He looked Shiro up and down and both of them smiled.

"Hang on!" Pidge said. "He's a Druid! We're supposed to just trust him?"

"He's one of the rebels," Keith said. "They're our allies."

"So he says," Pidge said.

"She has a point," Allura said. "We must be cautious. Sven, will you please take charge of this man until we can verify his story?"

"Yes, Princess," Shiro said.

"And Akira?" Allura turned to Keith. "I would like to be briefed on your travels. Will you meet me in my quarters for dinner?"

"Of course, Princess," Keith said. "Shall I bring wine?"

"If you like," she said.

Keith nodded, turned around, and as he walked down the stairs from the throne, his eyes drifted over to Shiro smiling at Curtis. Keith stepped on the edge of his robe and tumbled forward. "Motherfucker!"

"Cut!" Mitch yelled.

"'Action Stars To Watch'," Lance muttered.

"Keith, you okay?" Shiro asked, his gaze snapping away from Curtis and on to Keith.

"I'm fine," Keith said, through gritted teeth. He struggled with the robe but finally got back on his feet. "I hate robes."

"Try wearing a dress," Allura said dryly. "You've got to lift it a little on stairs." She daintily took hold of her skirt and lifted it above her ankles.

"I don't think that's the look I want," Keith said.

"Faceplanting? That's better?" Allura asked.

Keith sighed. "I'll work on it."

"Yes, you will," Mitch said. "Back to start, everyone. Let's do it again. Shiro, this time I want you be eyefucking Curtis the minute you see him."

"Pretend he's Keith," suggested Pidge. Everyone laughed. Everyone but Curtis, who gave Keith a guilty look and Keith, who was watching Shiro.

"I don't care if you pretend he's the Pope. I want you about ten seconds from jumping him," Mitch said. "But in a PG way. And Keith?" Keith's head jerked up. "Good job. Very hetero. Just try to stay on your feet."

"Keith can't walk and be hetero at the same time," Pidge snickered. Keith flipped her off.

"On your marks, everyone," Mitch said. "Let's take it from the top.”

---

[joannalannister]

Ok I'm sorry I'm asking a lot of questions. Do you think Jaime has a stronger feminine side/is more in touch with his feminine side then most guys in westeros due to his hella close relationship with cersei? And if so, how does it manifest itself in his thoughts/feelings/actions/beliefs? Also, do you think Jaime thinks about women in general differently then other men due to his relationship with cersei? (Btw I've also sent a similar q to queenaly to see what she has to say - is that ok?)

I thought about this for a few days, and I guess I’m not sure what it means for Jaime to be “in touch with his feminine side”? What is a feminine side, exactly?

For example, when Jaime and Cersei switched places as children, Jaime might have picked up a few skills that are considered more “traditionally feminine” like sewing – but Tyrion knows how to sew as well, and he specifically says he enjoys needlework, so could we also say that Tyrion is also more in touch with his feminine side? And Jaime occasionally dressed in Cersei’s clothes as a child, but Samwell was also dressed in women’s clothing as a child, so does that make him more “in touch with his feminine side”? 

So I guess I don’t think it has to do with activities or clothing. But I don’t know if the conventional definition of being “in touch with his feminine side” has to do with those things?

I’m literally gonna go google “in touch with his feminine side meaning” because I don’t know how else to approach this? 

OK top result on google: “6 Ways To Get In Touch With Your Feminine Side.”  This is how it starts:

Everyone has feminine and masculine qualities that define who they are. Your masculine side gets expressed when you’re working toward a goal, making progress, getting things done, and pushing forward. 

Ok, wow, y’all should see my face rn reading this is sexist bullshit. I didn’t know that getting shit done was considered masculine.

Google Result #2: “In Touch With His Feminine Side -TV Tropes”

A character who is In Touch With His Feminine Side, also known as a Tomgirl or Janegirl, is a male who lacks certain stereotypically male traits and may adopt some stereotypically girlish traits. Such characters are sometimes referred to as being “sensitive.”

Ok, this is slightly more useful. TV Tropes goes on to list a number of traits, so let’s see if those apply to Jaime:

Lack of athleticism - nope, not Jaime.

Lack of aggression - ohhhh boy, definitely not Jaime

An Open, Emotional Personality - No? Jaime’s rather emotionally guarded? It took him ~16 years to open up about killing Aerys.

Typically (traditionally) feminine interests - No. Jaime likes “swords and dogs and horses”. He “thirsts for battle” 

Effeminate or Non-Masculine Appearance - No. “This is what a king should look like.” 

“To qualify a character must have a large percentage of these traits and/or have their effeminate-ness be remarked on in-universe“ - No.

Imma say no, not in touch with his feminine side by this definition. 

But I think this feminine side/masculine side thing is kinda BS to begin with 

(women aren’t athletic? Catelyn Stark wasn’t ready to murder people with her bare hands on behalf of her family? Women have a monopoly on emotions now? See, this is BS) 

so let’s try a slightly different question:

Compared to the average male, does Jaime have a better understanding of the female experience in Westeros, given his incestuous relationship with his twin sister?

I think not. 

(Honestly, text format can never accommodate my sweeping hand gestures while answering questions.)

Take it away, Cersei:

“Yet even so, when Jaime was given his first sword, there was none for me. ‘What do I get?’ I remember asking. We were so much alike, I could never understand why they treated us so differently. Jaime learned to fight with sword and lance and mace, while I was taught to smile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, while I was to be sold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new owner liked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly. Jaime’s lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood.“

“But you were queen of all the Seven Kingdoms,” Sansa said.

“When it comes to swords, a queen is only a woman after all.”

Westeros systemically denies women their humanity. Even a queen is worth so much less to Westeros. 

I don’t think Jaime could ever understand what it was like for Cersei to have her body commodified and sexualized since childhood, to be wedded off without any say at all, to be raped as often as Robert liked, whenever he liked, without any recourse at all. 

I don’t think Cersei ever shared or expressed these things to Jaime, either. For example, I don’t think Cersei ever told Jaime how Robert would hurt her: “Never on the face before. Jaime would have killed him, even if it meant his own life.” If Robert had hit Cersei in an obvious place that wasn’t covered up by clothes, one that Jaime could see, Jaime would have flown into a murderous rage. So Cersei has to hide that shit.

(I guess this is an unpopular opinion, but I think Cersei is very guarded, even around Jaime? Like, I don’t think she confides everything to him. She never told him about the valonqar, she didn’t tell him about Robert’s abuse, she didn’t want to tell Jaime about Rhaegar as a child when she was drawing that picture. And same goes for Jaime - Jaime didn’t tell Cersei about the wildfire / killing Aerys. Even in his own POV, Jaime leaves so much unsaid to Cersei / says it only to us. How close are Jaime and Cersei, really?)

(God, I sound like an anti! Sorry! But my love for Cersei and Jaime derives from the tragedy of their relationship. Their misconceptions. The ways they hurt each other. The intensity of their love and hate. Their mutually-assured destruction. Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold….) 

Also. There’s this passage in AFFC, and it has one of my favorite lines:

“I took her on Raymun Darry’s bed after stepping over Robert. If His Grace had woken I would have killed him there and then. He would not have been the first king to die upon my sword … but you know that story, don’t you?” He slashed at a tree branch, shearing it in half. “As I was fucking her, Cersei cried, ‘I want.’ I thought that she meant me, but it was the Stark girl that she wanted, maimed or dead.” The things I do for love. “It was only by chance that Stark’s own men found the girl before me. If I had come on her first …”

“As I was fucking her, Cersei cried, ’I want.’

Jaime thinks he understands, he thinks Cersei wanted something as simple as one dead child. 

I don’t think he understands at all. 

Cersei’s wants are so deep, so vast, that she doesn’t even have the words to articulate them. “I want _______.” 

Cersei wants everything, she wants it all, everything that’s been denied to her. 

And Jaime’s had all these things. They all came so easily to him that he valued them very little. 

“You were Robert’s queen. And yet you won’t be mine.”

I really don’t think Jaime understands at all.

(If anyone understands what it’s like to be Cersei, and what a precarious position she’s in, I think that’s Tyrion. Cersei was denied, because she is a woman. Tyrion is denied because he is not able bodied. Like, there’s this quote of Tyrion’s in AGOT: 

“Tyrion wondered what it would be like to have a twin, and decided that he would rather not know. Bad enough to face himself in a looking glass every day. Another him was a thought too dreadful to contemplate.”

That’s one reason why Cersei and Tyrion hate each other. They’re twins, in a way. It’s hard enough for each to face himself/herself. Cersei and Tyrion facing each other … “too dreadful to contemplate.”)

So how does Jaime’s complete lack of understanding of the female experience manifest itself?

In really gross ways tbh:

Sansa Stark, that ought to put a smile on Tyrion’s face. He remembered how happy his brother had been with his little crofter’s daughter … for a fortnight.

When Jaime hears that Tyrion has married Sansa, he thinks nothing about how Sansa was a hostage, married off into the family who murdered her father. He thinks nothing about a little girl, not yet 13 years old, being forced into a relationship where she must always be available for sexual intercourse with a member of the family who murdered her father. 

Literally all Jaime’s think of is, “Way to go, bro!”

Sure, in very obvious cases of rape, Jaime is against it. For example, he wants to protect Rhaella from her husband, because he could hear her crying out. Jaime’s not 100% awful. 

But it didn’t really bother him that Sansa could have been raped on her wedding night. 

And now he wants to smash Cersei’s teeth in, because she’s slept with other people. He’s mad at her, because she hasn’t been faithful, without understanding that Cersei never had the luxury of being faithful to Jaime. 

Jaime’s misogynistic. He’s not as bad as someone like Randyll Tarly, but that’s setting the bar pretty damn low. 

So I’m sorry, I don’t think this was the answer you wanted. 

You said you also sent this question to @goodqueenaly? She writes much better things than I do, so maybe she can give you a better answer?