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rainydayathogwarts · 16 days ago

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Love at first sight - Sirius Black

summary: lily's sister who goes to beauxbatons throws the party of the summer which sparks likely friendships, and an even likelier romance. wc: 2.3k

Lily came into the Great Hall the same way she always did: a determined look on her face, chin lifted up confidently, carrying overflowing papers in her arms, but something was different. Those paper she carried? They weren’t filled with head girl applications or polished assignments, no, they were party invitations.

She sat at her usual seat, and as per usual, the marauders ruffled through her papers. “Party invitations?” Whispered Sirius excitedly, as though it was something secret. Lily puffed her chest out “Y/n’s throwing a party, and encouraged me to extend the invitations to some Hogwarts students.” James cleared his throat to stop himself from choking on his tea. “I’m sorry? Your parents are letting you throw a party? The same two people who didn’t let you come over to Marlene’s tea party?” Lily grinned widely. “Well, y/n only comes home during the summers. I’m there every winter and spring break , so she kind of has a way with our parents. All she had to say was ‘this is our last summer before we graduate’ and she had them.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Marlene cut in, her face lighting up, “If this is y/n’s party, does this mean it’s going to be filled with sexy french kids?” Lily nodded happily, sharing a look with the other marauders. It was going to be the party of the year.

You and Lily were the epitome of opposites. You’d engrossed yourself in getting to know all the kids in the neighborhood and quickly because friends with your french neighbour, while Lily only befriended one — Severus. By force of being around the young boy, you’d learned his language, his language which quickly became your own. Whilst you and Lily had your own friends, no one was closer to you both than each other. You were twins, not only blood brothers but best friends. Due to your linguistic talent, you’d not only received a letter from Hogwarts on your eleventh birthday, but from Beauxbatons too. Petunia, ever so jealous of your relationship and your magic, had duped your parents into sending you away.

Petunia had ran off crying, locked in her room alone until she formed the plan of the century to break your relationship with your twin apart. “Well, they’re always together. Isn’t it better for them to learn how to live apart from each other?” And your parents had fallen for her trick. Now, you only saw each other during the summers, and your relationship was stronger than ever. But things would soon change.

The only thing Lily heard of for the rest of the day was this party. Who was she inviting? How many people would be there? “Sirius, it’s not my party. I don’t know the details. All I’ve been told is that I have these invitations to give out to people.” Sirius stared at the front of the boldly decorated invitation on the top of the pile which read in a glittery font ‘No invite, no entry!’ He ran a rough estimate in his mind and decided there had to be at least seventy invitations in the stack of papers. “Can I help give them out?”

Lily and Sirius had proudly made up a list of who to invite, or not to invite, the rest of the marauders eventually gathering around to put in their own two cents. When the invitations had been given out, Lily returned to her dorm whilst the marauders all sat in front of the black lake, soaking up the limited sun rays whilst staring at their own invitations. “This is some high end decor.” Commented Remus, turning his invitation in his hands. The fonts had been carefully chosen, and a textured disco ball sat in the centre of the page. “Yeah, according to Lily, y/n loooves to party.” Marlene added, laying on her back. “I’m excited to meet her,” started James “She sounds fun, and we barely ever hear about her from Lily.”

Sirius hummed, gears turning in his brain. “Lily said they’re nothing alike.” He recalls. It was true. You and Lily weren’t only opposites in terms of personality, but looks too. Despite being twins, you had taken all of your father’s genes while Lily took after your mother. No one ever believed you when you said you were twins, let alone siblings.

The party was nearly an entire month later. The marauders found themselves outside an ordinary muggle house, glancing at each other nervously. Had they arrived too early? Marlene glanced down at her invitation, ensuring that they were there right on time. A knock on the door and they were waiting. The door slammed open and they were met with you, a bright smile on your face and a tray in the other with an array of pink and blue jell-o shots. You weren’t the only thing that welcomed them, but the loud roar of noise from inside the house blasted them too. Remus cocked an eyebrow, thinking ‘That’s one mean silencing charm.’ “Grab a drink you guys!” You called, holding the door open with your foot as you moved to the side for them to come in. You introduced yourself over the noise, clueless to the mesmerised eyes following you.

Sirius let himself be dragged into the house by Remus, though his eyes followed you as you escaped into the backyard. Lily had been right, you weren’t nothing alike. You wore fishnets under your small denim shorts, your top exposing more than just midriff. He gulped, trying not to be caught staring at your breasts when you turned around, instead moving his gaze to the endless jewellery you wore.

Sirius heard himself gasp — apparently the french like to be early. The party in the backyard was lit, he finally noticed, with groups of people already playing beer pong, dancing to the music, and even exchanging light conversation. Lily ran to join them, trying to properly introduce you to her friends, but you were running back to the door as the bell rung once more. Apparently everyone arrived at once, because a crowd of people suddenly flooded the living room. A mix of elegant french and fast english chatter filled the air, and Sirius saw Marlene’s jaw drop, already picking the girl she was going to spend the rest of the night flirting with. Just as Lily was about to catch you, you jumped onto the coffee table, pointing your wand to your neck with an amplification charm.

“Okay, listen up everyone!” You called out, and from within the crowd, Sirius caught your eye, his muscular arms thrown over two of his friends' shoulders. You hadn’t properly noticed him when he walked in, but now? You shook the thought out of your head. “We have about 200 wizards in this house. A house that you can tell is in a muggle neighbourhood! Now, my silencing charm may be great, but it doesn’t hide magical activity! So if we can keep the magic down to a minimum and get the party up to a maximum that would be great! Where’s my music!?” And suddenly the music roared to life. Sirius shoved to the front of the crowd, offering you a hand to help you down from the coffee table. You felt your stomach jump at his offer, the light reflecting off his silver jewellery. Instead of taking Sirius’s hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck, swinging your legs off the table. Sirius snaked his arms around your waist without missing a beat, spinning you around so you let out a joyous laugh. “And who might you be?” You asked, running your hands down his chest before letting them hang by your sides.

Sirius curtseyed, miming saluting you with a hat whilst very poshly saying “Sirius Black, at your service.” You giggled, putting both your hands on his bicep. “Hey, you met Sirius!” Lily cut in, bumping you with her hip. You met her eyes, and they glinted with mischief. She most definitely knew how attracted you were to Sirius in that moment. “Come meet the others!” She didn’t give you time to respond, instead tugging you away from the curly haired boy. You waved at him, yelling “I’ll see you later!” and then “Shut up” to Lily when you turned around. You didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling like the cheshire cat.

James was the first to bring you into a hug, his hands respectfully patting your back. You turned to look at Lily, nodding in approval. Your introductions with Remus and Marlene were quick, witty comments given by each of them before Marlene so boldly asked “Hey, is that cute brunette over there into girls?” You laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be more specific, but for you? Anyone would be into girls.” Simple to say, Marlene turned bright red, and not because of the warmth the alcohol had given her.

When Sirius returned to the group, you were already gone, dancing with your friends. He threw his arms around James’s shoulders, resting his head on his best friends’s shoulder. “James, we’re going to be brothers in law!” The boy barked out a laugh, pushing Sirius away to look at him properly. “I’m in love with her James.” Remus laughed, slapping a hand on Sirius’s back. “Well what are you going to do about it buddy?” He asked, sharing an amused glance with James. “I’m going to convince her to come to Hogwarts. Wait! First, I’m going to make her fall in love with me!” Sirius frowned at his two friends’ loud laughs, muttering something like “I’ll show you.” But he didn’t have the chance to come find you in the crowd, because two pairs of hands were placed upon his shoulders, and you appeared, saying “Come dance with me.”

Sirius almost passed out at your offer, blindly following you onto the dance floor and missing the surprised look Remus and James shot each other. Apparently, you wouldn't need much convincing to fall for Sirius. Sirius took your hand, spinning you around, and you looking him up, looking around as though it would hide the bite of your lip. Sirius’s jeans were just tight enough around the crotch, and low waisted enough that every time he raised his arms too high, a sliver of his abdomen would show as his top would ride up. You spun around in Sirius’s arms, pressing your back against his chest. His hands trailed down to your hips, tugging them closer to his own. You giggled, moving your body alongside the music. Sirius groaned, whispering the lyrics in your ear, his hot breath hitting your sweaty skin.

The next time Sirius groaned, it wasn’t out of enjoyment, it was because someone had called out your name. “Viens avec nous? Just une cigarette!” (Come with us? Just one cigarette!) You had laughed at your friend’s words, shaking your head. “Non, il est trop beau, je ne veux pas le quitter!” (No, he’s so gorgeous, I don’t want to leave him!) Sirius hummed as you turned around in his arms, putting both your hands on his chest. “Come outside with me! Somewhere we can talk!” You grinned, sliding both your hands down in his, and letting him drag you outside.

You let Sirius guide you to a less crowded side of your garden, where you could people watch without being disturbed. You pushed Sirius against the wall of your backyard, watching as his eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “So, Mr. Black, what would you like to discuss?” Sirius felt his heart surge, its pace quickening by the second, and he was sure you could feel it under your fingertips too. “Go out with me.” He heard himself blurt, and his eyes went wide at his own question. You laughed, looking around. “Aren’t we out right now?” The silence he left you with made you giggle, leaning your head forward on his chest. “I’m just joking.” Sirius shoulders slumped down in relief, hands loosely gripping your hips.

“I don’t want this to just be a little party flirt. I want to really get to know you. You… you seem cool.” You pressed yourself onto your tip toes, leaning forward to softly kiss Sirius. He sighed as you pulled away, chasing the kiss softly, but you refused to reconnect your lips. “I’d really like that.” Sirius smiled widely, pulling you flat against his body. “And hey, who knows, maybe you can show me around Hogwarts?” Sirius nodded, replying with “Yeah of- wait, what?” You straightened your back, cocking your head to the side. “Yeah, I’m moving to Hogwarts next year. Mum and dad finally had enough of me being so far away.” You interrupted yourself with your own laugh, pushing yourself off of him and looking around. “That’s what this is! My goodbye slash welcome party. Didn’t Lily tell you?” Sirius shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Well since I’ll be seeing more of you, can I properly kiss you now?”

Nodding at Sirius, you let him tug you closer to him, bringing you into a passionate kiss. You gasped at the force of his kiss, letting Sirius slide his tongue into your mouth. Moaning softly, you brought your hands up to cup Sirius’s face, pushing your body even deeper into his. “Oh my!” You pulled away from Sirius harshly, stumbling away from him. “I mean, I knew you guys had something going on, but I didn’t know it was going on.” You felt your face flush at Lily’s words, and heard Sirius cry out from behind you “Why didn’t you tell us she’s joining next year!?” James, from next to Lily, turned to face her, surprise overtaking his features. “I wanted to see how you guys got along before telling anyone!”

Remus approached the four of you, tipsily mumbling “Marlene has a roster of like three girls right now, and I just overheard some guy saying he wants to jump in the lake. I didn’t know there was a lake.” Remus stood silently, finally taking in the scene in front of him.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe

#rainydayathogwarts #harry potter #hogwarts #marauders era #gryffindor #the marauders #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black smut #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius being sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #marauders #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fluff #evans!reader

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bbyquokka · 2 months ago

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nerd in love

– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end

words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )

notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom.

the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.

you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?

other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.

so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.

the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.

“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.

you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.

you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.

he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.

but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.

it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.

“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.

jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.

“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.

maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink.

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“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”

today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.

you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.

the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.

you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.

“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.

you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.

“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.

you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.

“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”

“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.

“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!”

“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.

“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.

jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.

you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath.

“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, i know.”

“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”

“i need your notes.”

“my notes? fuck no.”

“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.

“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.

“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.”

you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.

“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.

“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.

“pardon?”

“hand. your hand. please remove it.”

“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.

you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.

“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”

“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”

“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.

“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”

“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”

“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.

“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.

“yn…”

“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”

“... just my coffee?”

“what sweet treat do you like?”

“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.

“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.

“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”

you cheer and grin widely.

“on some conditions though.”

“what?”

“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”

“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”

“study dates?”

“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”

“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.

“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.

“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.”

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“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag.

minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.

since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.

“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.

“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”

“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”

“yeah. problem?” minho smirks

“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.

“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.

“you're disgusting.”

“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.

“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.

“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.

“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”

“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’

minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”

“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”

“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs.

“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.

“have you asked her that?”

“well… no but–”

“then how do you know?”

“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”

“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”

“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs.

“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”

“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.

“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.

“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.

with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.

“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.

but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake.

“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.

“fuck! i’m so screwed.”

minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.

“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.

nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.

he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)

“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.

the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.

it's silent but it's lively.

jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.

his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.

you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.

his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.

“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.

“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.

“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.”

“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”

“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.

“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.”

“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.

you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.

his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.

you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.

“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.

“excuse me?”

“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”

“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”

“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.

jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast.

you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake.

“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself.

“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”

“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”

you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.

“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”

“what flavour is it?”

“strawberry”

“mhm, not bad.”

“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.

“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”

“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.

“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”

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“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.

the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments.

instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.

“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“have you asked her yet?”

“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.

“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”

“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.

“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”

jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.”

“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.

“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”

“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”

“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”

“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”

he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.

“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?”

“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”

“who?”

“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”

“how do you know all these people?”

“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”

“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.”

“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.

“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”

“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”

“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.

“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.

“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”

“dude… it's mild.”

“...fuck you.”

“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”

“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”

“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.

“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”

“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!”

“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.

how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?

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the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.

one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing.

you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.

today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.

you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.

you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table.

“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”

you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.

“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.

the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.

it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.

you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.

“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.

“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.”

“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.

“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”

“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.

“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”

“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?” he jests.

“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”

“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.

the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”

“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.

“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.

“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.

“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”

“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”

minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”

“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.

“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”

“good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.

“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.

“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich.

“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod. “are you attending his party?”

“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.

“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”

“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”

“14th.”

“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.

“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.”

“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.

“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”

“cold?”

“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated.

“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.

“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”

“what’s he likes now, yn?”

“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”

chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.

“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.

“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.

finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.

“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.

“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.

as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.

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you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.

jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even.

“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.

today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.

he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.

“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”

“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

“you smell good, jisung.”

“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done?

jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.

“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.

“what don't you get?”

“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.

every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.

before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”

you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”

“i mean, you two are close are you not?”

“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”

“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.

“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”

“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”

“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?”

jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.

“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”

you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.

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“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.

he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.

he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.

minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.

“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.

he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.

“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.

“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.

with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.

“so?” minho starts

“so?” jisung repeats

“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”

“nope. i'm good.”

“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”

“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.

“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.

“where are we going?”

“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.

“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”

“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”

jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes.

it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the café has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.

the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.

jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.

“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.

his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.

minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.

chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.

“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.

“stand what?”

“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.

“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”

“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!”

jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.

“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.

“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!”

“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”

“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”

“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.

“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.

“excuse me?”

“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “

“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…”

“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.

“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”

“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”

“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”

“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”

“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.

“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”

“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”

“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.

to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check.

he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness.

“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”

“what?! why?”

“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.

“... is she coming?”

minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”

“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”

“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.

“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”

“dude… you know i can't do that!”

“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”

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jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.

“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.

he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.

“looking good there, yn.”

“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’

“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.

“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.

“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.

once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.

you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.

“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.

“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.

“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.

“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”

“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.

“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.

“not like i have a say in this.”

“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.

it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.

chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)

you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.

as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.

you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.

you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.

you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.

“yn. hi.”

you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)

you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.

“hi.” you reply coldly.

“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.

“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.

“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.

“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.

you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.

“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”

you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.

“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy?

your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.

“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.

“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”

you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.

“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”

“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.

“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”

“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”

jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.

“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.”

“cute?”

“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.

“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.

you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.

“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”

“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm.

“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.”

you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.

“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even.

“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”

“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.

you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.

his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.

jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement.

“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.

“is this real?” he asks.

“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”

“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.

“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”

“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.”

you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.

“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.

“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #han jisung #jisung #jisung fluff #han jisung fluff #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #jisung x you #jisung x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you

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psychoticallykind · 2 months ago

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Maybe

"Early" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 778 words

--------------------------------------------------------------

Regulus knocked before he could talk himself out of it.

The door opened a few seconds later, revealing a slightly surprised James Potter. "Regulus? Hey, come on in." He stepped back, giving Regulus a warm smile.

"Hi," Regulus managed, trying not to seem awkward. "Sirius invited me. To the party for Remus?"

"Yeah, of course," James replied, grinning. "You're a little early, so no one's here - Sirius is out with Remus, because he gets anxious before parties and it's best to tell him with as little notice as possible."

"Isn't - I thought it started at eleven?" Regulus checked, suddenly aware that he was possibly very early to a party he'd thought he was late to.

"It starts at one," James informed him. "But everything is set up - do you want something to drink? I can make tea."

"You don't have to." Regulus needed to check that text - Barty was the one who'd gotten the time, but Regulus was sure it had said eleven. "I - I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be so early."

He was going to kill Barty. Violently and slowly. The only reason Regulus was here was because Sirius had invited him - and all of his friends - and because they were actually trying to have a good relationship. But Regulus had planned to come late, say hi, and leave. That was all.

He couldn't be early. He couldn't - there were going to be people here. Lots of people he didn't know and couldn't talk to and didn't want to socialize with, and now he was not only early, but first.

He was going to be sick. Maybe he could leave now - only James had seen him, he could lie and say he felt poorly - it wasn't even completely a lie, really, because now he was anxious enough that he might throw up and surely that counted as feeling unwell, didn't it?

"Regulus?" James pulled his attention. "Hey. Can I show you something?"

Right. He was still here. In his brothers apartment. Early to a party he shouldn't have come to.

Regulus managed to nod. "Okay."

"Great." James grinned, holding out his hand. Regulus hesitated for a second before taking it and letting James lead him through the apartment.

James passed the first and second door, stopping at the end of the hall. "This is my room," he informed Regulus, opening the door. "I'd bring you to Sirius's, but it's a mess right now."

Regulus nodded, stepping inside and almost immediately feeling calmer. He couldn't help it - James's room was so calm.

Translucent gold curtains were pulled over an open window, tinting all of the natural light and giving the whole room a warm glow. There was a lamp next to the bed, but it wasn't on. The floor had a soft black rug, and there was an intricate quilt with mostly deep red and gold shades over the bed. A desk was in one corner, bookshelves in another. It was light and comfortable and organized, and Regulus felt so safe.

"I know that parties aren't usually your thing," James spoke up from behind him, still by the door. "So I wanted to let you know you could come and hide in here if you wanted. It'll be empty, and it's actually pretty well sound-proofed, so it should be a good place to relax and breathe if you need one."

Regulus couldn't look at him. He didn't know how to contend with this - what was this? Compassion? Kindness?

Whatever it was, it was making Regulus feel weird. He nodded to the large dreamcatcher above the bed. "That's pretty."

"The dreamcatcher?" James asked. "Thanks. My mom made it last year. She loves them."

Regulus nodded, staring at it. What was he supposed to say? Thank you for caring? How did you notice? Why are you letting me in here?

"It'll be a while before anyone else is here," James spoke up again. "Do you want to watch a film? Or we can just talk for a while, or you can borrow a book - if I don't have anything you like, you can raid Remus's collection, he has like a million in Sirius's room."

"A film would be okay," Regulus turns to look at James, smiling a little when James brightens.

"Great! Come on, I'll show you what we have." James leads him back to the living room, and Regulus follows, no longer tense.

He's way too early, and maybe he shouldn't be here at all.

But James is smiling at him, and Regulus feels so safe here, and maybe it was good that he got here early.

Maybe he should come here a little more often.

Maybe.

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #jeggyverse microfic #jegulus microfic #marauders

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ginax0916 · 1 year ago

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⋆｡𖦹 °.✩ 𝐈’𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✩⋆｡𖦹 °.

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Genre - Fluff :)

Synopsis - Reader is a shy introverted person, she rarely adds on to convos. But when she finally tries to she’s ignored, but Chris is the one willing to listen to her.

I’m someone who doesn’t really talk. Not because I can’t, just because I choose not to. I just feel like I really have nothing to say. I just sit there and listen to others. It’s the way I prefer it.

I’ve been friends with the triplets for over 2 years now. But with them it’s a little different. I do talk when I’m around them, I just feel more comfortable. They always let me speak; unlike with big groups of people they tend to ignore me or just not care for what I have to say. And I guess I understand it. I mean I’m a quiet person, my voice in general is quiet. Why would anyone want to listen to what I have to say?

“N/n you ready to go?” Chris asks, calling me by my nickname.

“Uh yea I’m ready” I nervously respond. We were all going to some birthday party for one of the triplets friends. I don’t really know them but I was invited too and since the triplets are going I guess I am too.

“You ok?” Matt asks noticing my nerves.

“Yea why?” I reply trying to hide my emotions.

“No reason” He rubs my arm and walks away to the car.

I look around as we enter the house. It’s quite big, it’s filled with balloons and decorations all over. The neon lights making it hard to see the colours of things. It’s loud. Very loud. Too loud for my personal liking. Chris on the other hand is already talking to half of the people here. I’ve always admired him. The way he can just talk to everyone so easily is mind blowing to me. And everyone around him just seems to like his energy. I don’t understand how he does it. But I’m sure his looks have definitely something to do with it.

“Matt and I are gonna go look for Larray, are you ok staying with Chris or do you wanna come with us??” Nick asks me knowing I don’t like to be alone at parties.

“I can stay with Chris I don’t mind” I smile back as they nod and walk away.

“Chris?” I quietly say tapping his shoulder.

“Hm? You ok? Where’s Nick and Matt?” Chris asks starting to panic a little.

“I’m ok, I was just gonna ask you if I could stay with you because Matt and Nick went to look for Larray” I reply back, looking down at the floor intimidated by his stare.

“Of course you can stay with me. We’re all gonna go outside to talk come on” He smiles and I grab on to his arm as we move to the outside patio.

This is the part I hate the most. The talking. Makes me look like an idiot who can’t speak. Not to mention I look like a child holding on to Chris’s arm for dear life because I’m too scared to let go. He doesn’t seem to mind, but the stares other girls are giving me are telling me for some reason they mind.

“No yea I agree dude like I can’t believe she would do that to him”

“So what are you guys doing for summer? We should throw a big summer party and the beach”

“Did you guys hear about the tea with Kate and her boyfriend??”

I try and tune out all the different convos that have been happening. I have nothing to say about them. Until one. Kate is my best friend. I know everything that’s happening with her and her bf. Should I say something? I can’t. But I really want to. My mouth twitches. I want to talk I really want to.

“Y/n aren’t you like best friends with Kate?” Some girl asks me.

“I- I am yea” I stutter. Already growing nervous with all the eyes looking at me.

“So like is it true that she fucked another guy and cheated??” The girl asks smiling.

“What? No she didn’t” I reply quietly my hands sweating and slightly shaking. I feel Chris rub my arm, drawing little shapes with his fingers as if he’s telling me to relax.

“Yea she did I know she did” She says laughing.

“N-no that not what happened. It w-was the other way around” I stutter again, feeling embarrassed.

“Why do you stutter so much? Did the cat get your tongue?” She spits out giving me and nasty look.

Everyone laughed. Every single person there laughed. All looking at me judging me. I want to cry. There’s tears pricking at my eyes. My throat closes up. I hate this all I wanna leave.

“Dude what the fuck leave her alone” Chris raises his voice at the girl.

But before I can hear what that bitch has to say I get up and speed walk away to somewhere quiet.

Tears run down my face as I go upstairs and find an unlocked room. I go to the balcony and sit on the chair with my knees up to my chest. My heavy breathing filling up the room. How pathetic of me? Having a panic attack over talking?

“Oh baby” I hear a familiar voice say. I look up with tear filled eyes and see Chris approaching me with a small comforting smile on his pretty lips.

“C’mere” He opens his arms up to me inviting me into his warm embrace. Without a thought I wrap my arms around his torso and lay my head on his stomach since I’m still sitting down.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. Breathe for me yea? Nice and slow. Just like that pretty girl” The praise giving me butterflies as I follow his instructions which help me calm down.

He suddenly picks me up with ease and sits on the chair I was once on. I stare at him confused for a second; he chuckles and grabs my hips making me sit on his lap sideways. Chris then holds my head with one hand keeping it close to him, and rubs my back with the other hand.

“I’m listening ma” He smiles. I blush at the nickname and look down.

“No no none of that, don’t shy up on me” Chris laughs and tilts my chin up for me to look at him.

“Will you really listen or are you just saying that because I’m crying?” I say quietly as I sniffle and nuzzle my head into his neck.

“Of course I will listen, I want to hear your pretty voice” He rubs my knee in a comforting way while smiling down at me.

“Ok well first it’s not true what that girl said because you know Kate she wouldn’t do that” I started off.

Chris only stared at me in adoration with the biggest smile on his face. He’s the one that truly listen to me.

“But then she found his phone and saw the text!” I kept on going on about the story till the end of it.

“Well now I know the truth ma” He says using that nickname again.

“Mhm” I hum blushing because of the nickname.

“It’s cute when you blush after I call you ma” He laughs making me blush even harder.

“Come on let’s go find Nick and Matt so we can go home and watch a movie yea?”

I tried to do something diff and wrote about Chris cuz I just felt like it would be fun yk. So I’ll be doing fics about the Sturniolos too so pls pls request anything I’m in need of ideas I beg 😣🙏

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin skywalker x you #y/n #matt sturniolo x reader #ani skywalker #anakin x you #the skywalker saga #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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majestyeverlasting · 2 months ago

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𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Daughter Reader

Summary For years, you’ve survived tethered to Joel’s side, haunted by the loss of your sister and scared to step outside of his shadow. So when he bonds with the girl he’s tasked to smuggle, it strains your complicated relationship—until the threat of losing him forces you to confront just how much he means to you [angst, fluff, 5.4k].

A/N This is some of my favorite prose I've written recently. Daughter!reader is a new dynamic for me, but it was such a rewarding writing experience. Thank you to the anon who sent this request in. I hope you all enjoy.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

It’s cold outside today. If the draft sneaking in through the windows isn’t enough to let on, the sky itself is an undeniable sign. There’s no blue, no clouds that can be distinguished from the next. The entire expanse is a pale white sheet. As if the heavens have decided to shield earth from its view because of how far it’s fallen.

Nevertheless, life in the Boston Quarantine Zone labors on. Day after soulless day, rain or shine. Like a well-oiled machine who’s battered parts of flesh and blood refuse to lay down and die.

The glass of the living room window is cool against your forehead as you gaze outside. Everything is dull. Brick, metal, concrete, and endless earthtones constitute the expanse of buildings that seemingly stretch for miles. However, after having explored every corner of this walled city, you know it’s finite. A mere portion of a much larger world trying to find its footing again.

The people walking on the sidewalks below look small from the height of your apartment. All seeming to move on a droning autopilot, clad in worn clothes that likely belonged to ten other people before them.

With a sigh, you step away from the window and plop back down on the couch. The coffee table is cluttered with stained, old papers and trinkets, but you reach for the stack of Polaroids you’d previously been flipping through. Each photo and caption transports you back to a past moment in time...

tea for two ♡ March 13, 2003

A day that seems closer than it actually is, now confined to a single, glossy frame. The white border has faded to beige and the picture itself no longer bears its original saturation. In it, you and Sarah are wrapped in each other’s arms, dressed like princesses for the tea party you invited her to.

You were her three-year-old shadow, and even though you got on her nerves half the time, she found it hard to say no to you. Everybody in the Miller household did.

lake day!!! July 4, 2003

A sunny day. You, Sarah, and Joel are squinting into the light but smiling, your backs to the lake. Later that night, according to Joel’s retelling, you cried because of the colorful, celebratory explosions bursting amid the night sky.

dad’s getting old (jk ily dad) September 26, 2003

Joel’s smile is shy as he sits at the kitchen table with a cone birthday hat on his head. Sarah was the one behind the lens while you clung to her leg, both you and Tommy making goofy faces in hopes of making Joel smile wider.

He turned thirty-six that day. By that evening, everything had changed. Not just because of the outbreak, but because Sarah, who had been a light in so many of the photos, was gone too. A few months after her fourteenth birthday, no less.

It feels strange being twenty-three now. An age she never got to see—

The faint metallic clinking of a belt being fastened prompts you to curiously stand to your feet. After setting down the photos, you saunter to the hallway, where there’s a straight view to Joel’s bedroom. The door is cracked, and warm lamplight pours out to light the end of the hall. With each step closer you take, the old, wooden floorboards creak.

When you make it to the door, you rap your knuckles against it a few soft times. There’s shuffling on the other side.

You knock again when there’s no response. “Dad?”

“What’s up?” he doesn’t say it in a clipped, annoyed way so you know he hadn’t heard your previous knocking.

“Can I come in?”

He’s quiet for a beat. “I’m finishing up getting dressed. But yeah.”

Inside, the bed still isn’t made. He’s standing in front of the full body mirror leaning against the wall. The paint of the gold trim around it is peeling, revealing the dark aluminum beneath. The glass itself is a bit foggy with stubborn grime that refuses to be scrubbed away. And right in the middle, at the same height that Joel stands, is a sizable spiderweb crack that makes his face look fragmented unless he bends down or shifts to either the left or right.

Right now, he doesn’t seem to mind the distortion of his face, more interested in assessing his clothes. When you step up behind him, a little to the right, your entire body looks whole. Face and all.

His eyes briefly flick to you as he continues to button the rest of his olive colored shirt. When he’s finished, he sucks in his stomach and pushes down the waistband of his dark jeans to rest at a more comfortable place on his hips.

It isn’t until then that you notice a small portion of the back of his shirt is flipped up, the fabric thick enough to hold its place. You reach out to smooth it down. Joel hums in realization.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Yep,” you murmur. “I thought you were off today.”

Turning around and brushing past you, he sits in the accent chair to put on his boots. A grunt escapes him with the effort of leaning down. You watch as his thick, battered fingers fumble with the laces until they produce two neat bows. He sits back with a sigh when he’s done, running a hand through his fluffy, silvering hair.

“I’m meeting with Marlene,” he says. The way you frown tells him that’s not a good thing, or nearly enough information. “Tess will be there too. It’s looking like we might be able to get that car battery we need to set out for Tommy.”

You process that information with a slow nod. The idea of finding him feels elusive these days.

A few weeks ago, Marlene told Joel she knew a couple guys who could provide resources. At various points in the months prior, she claimed the very same thing. Every promise she made fell flat because those said contacts either died or backed out of the negotiation. Yet, Joel held out hope every time.

It used to be you who accompanied him whenever he went to meet with Marlene, but it’d gotten to the point where you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her or stand seeing her face.

But Joel still did. For the sake of his own conscience. For Tommy.

After standing from the chair, he fishes into his back pocket for a red cardstock meal card. When you reach out to take it from him, he doesn’t let go, instead opting to look directly into your eyes.

“Want you to meet us for lunch at the northern dining commons at noon. We should be done by then,” he says, waiting for you to nod so he knows you’re tracking.

“Don’t leave before then, alright? It’s getting crazier out there. Don’t know if it’s ‘cause summer’s coming or what.”

“I won’t,” you insist.

When you try to take the card again, he holds onto it just for the sake of coaxing a smile out of you. It doesn’t quite meet your eyes, but it’s enough to tie him over for now. He lets go of it just as you’re in the middle of pulling, and the lack of resistance makes you stumble backwards. The sound of amusement he huffs out earns him a light punch to the shoulder.

“I mean it, though.” He points a finger. “Don’t leave till it’s time, alright? We’ll fill you in on everything then.”

Rolling your eyes, you follow him back out into the living room. “I already said I wouldn’t.”

“Well, reiterating is my job.”

Those are the words he leaves you with before heading out the door.

A few hours later, when the clock strikes twelve, you’re eating at the dining commons alone. Anxiousness prickles beneath your skin. You soothe yourself as chatter and the clinking of silverware float up all around you…

Everything’s fine. Joel’s alright. Tess is alright. Just finish eating and go home.

•••

Sunset paints the sky that evening. The clouds that lingered all day have finally made way for an expressionist ombre of blue, pink, and orange. It's beautiful in a way that would’ve been worth photographing once upon a time.

All you can think about is the fact that Joel hasn’t returned.

A little past seven, voices arise in the hallway. They’re hushed and somewhat frustrated, one of them undeniably belonging to Joel. By the time keys hastily begin jingling in the door, you’re popping to your feet from the couch. A second later, it swings open with enough force that it hits the neighboring wall.

“Get inside,” Joel orders. You can’t see him from where you’re standing.

You can’t see anybody.

“I don’t have to keep listening to you,” quips a tight, youthful voice. “Whatever happened to stranger danger?”

“Move, Ellie,” Joel says. “Before I make you.”

A young girl wearing a backpack trudges into the apartment with a scowl. After looking around the bleak accommodation, her eyes settle on you. The air falls silent. You note the wispy flyaways escaping her short ponytail, the slight redness to her eyes like she’s been either crying or rubbing them.

Ellie sizes you up in return. You can see it in the calculated rove of her dark gaze, the way she squares her shoulder to match your guardedness.

She eventually whips her attention back to Joel. “Who the hell is she?”

“Told you I didn’t live alone.” That’s all he gives her before redirecting his attention to you. He seldom reveals the entirety of what he’s feeling in a given moment, but you can see the guilt weighing down on his shoulders. “I—”

“You missed lunch.”

He runs a heavy hand down his face. “I know.”

The girl looks between the two of you with owl-like attentiveness that borders on amusement. At least she wasn’t the only one having a shitty day. Outside, shouting voices arise in the distance. Glass bottles break.

“Dad. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Ellie’s eyes widen at the revelation.

Joel doesn’t say anything because you’re staring daggers straight into his very being.

“I’m immune to the virus,” she speaks up. There’s a hint of pride in her tone, like she’s looking past the present to some undefined future in which she saves the world.

“He’s gonna take me to the people who can find the cure. Then you guys are gonna go find Timmy or whatever—Tommy.”

It’s an oversimplification, but Joel doesn’t have the energy to expound right now. Not when you look like you would lunge for him if it wasn’t for the girl.

•••

Later that night, he sees the first shove coming. Your eyes darken until you’re no longer able to constrain your frustration to a mere look. It frustrates you all the more when he doesn’t budge. So you do it again, pushing both your hands straight into his chest.

All he does is take a single step backwards to create distance, hands raised in surrender. The fact that he isn’t reacting makes more heat consume your face.

Until, finally, he grabs your wrists.

“Are you done acting like a child?” he asks.

“As soon as you quit treating me like one,” you bark. “All you do is give orders and break promises, and I’m supposed to keep following you around like a dog.”

“I don’t see any shackles.”

“Because it’s you,” you retort, attempting to pull away from his light hold. “You’re the shackles, the prison guard, and the key.”

Those words make him drop your wrists as if you’ve stung him with poison. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed and drops his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. The mattress creaks under his weight. In the new silence, you stand and stare at him as your breaths even out.

Neither of you are aware that Ellie has her ear pressed to the other side of the bedroom door, listening.

When he lifts his head, only then are you aware of how tired and worn down he looks. His hair is more disheveled than it was this morning. The same hair you used to playfully run your fingers through and litter with sparkly hair clips. Except now, his face is void of a smile.

“I’m sorry about lunch, alright?” His dark eyes search yours for any inkling of forgiveness. He knows he scared you. That’s what’s beneath your anger. “I didn’t know I was gonna get held up like that.”

Joel Miller was a lot of things, but a pushover wasn’t one of them.

If he really wanted to, he could’ve at least come to the dining commons to explain. Or ignore Marlene’s request entirely, and force her to find someone else to smuggle the girl. Even Tess had refused to involve herself in the escape plan because she feared it would be all risk and no reward.

“What happens if these guys turn out to be dead too?” You ask Joel, voice softer than before. “What if this is yet another exchange that falls through?”

He knows you have a point. He also knows he has a brother out there miles away who recently sent him a signal.

“If there’s a chance, I gotta take it,” he says. “And if we get out there and nobody’s waiting for us, we’re heading to Wyoming anyway.” He meets your gaze.

You swallow and blink in surprise. “Really?”

“I’m done waiting around for the right time,” he says, voice low but firm. “It’s never gonna come. Gotta forge it ourselves.”

He sounds sure. Right now, you could use something to believe in. And if nothing else, a change of scenery from the city walls you’ve been confined within for far too long.

•••

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

𝐈.

The Capitol Building is empty when you arrive, no sight of the men who were supposed to take Ellie and give you and Joel the supplies you need to carry on. For a while, the three of you linger hopefully on the inside, where grass grows through the chipped marble floors. The only people who eventually arrive are ridden with the virus, their rotting bodies infested with fungus from the inside out.

You promptly flee the scene after swallowing disappointment like a pill.

𝐈𝐈.

The front door of Bill and Frank’s house is unlocked when you arrive in the desolate suburbia. Dead grass and tall weeds constitute the yard. The flower beds out front have long wilted. That’s enough for you to know that they’re either dead or gone. Joel pushes into the house anyway, with you and Ellie trailing behind. Bill left a note behind. They’re dead. Ellie asks questions about them that Joel thoughtfully answers.

The three of you take turns showering, then leave.

𝐈𝐈𝐈.

By early August, the trio feels more like a unit, having been bound together by shared letdowns and long nights under the stars. Some days, you don’t know where you are until coming across specific landmarks or recognizable cliffs. You and Joel teach Ellie how to shoot because she wouldn’t stop begging. Most days, as you’re making progress towards Wyoming, it’s the two of you trailing behind Joel, who often shoots unreadable glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re keeping up.

Sometimes he lets down his walls to offer a small smile.

•••

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋

All around, tall trees stretch towards the sky, bearing vibrant leaves beginning to change colors. Every so often, a breeze rolls through and ruffles them. The same mourning dove has been calling out into the wind with no response in return. It’s a tune that filled the mornings of your childhood back when you were on the road to Boston with Joel. You hadn’t heard it much since.

Twigs and leaves crunch beneath your boots as you squat to lower your fingertips into the creek. The water is cool against your skin, and clear enough to see the rocks at the bottom. When you stand up, you startle at the sight of Ellie standing a few yards away. She takes a few apologetic steps back, almost tripping over herself.

Further away, Joel sits with his back propped against a tree as he reorganizes the contents of his backpack.

“Jesus, El,” you sigh, pressing a hand to your chest over your heart.

Ellie no longer seems sure of her reason for approaching you. There were times when she didn’t look her age—whether it be her stare or the way she carried herself—but this wasn’t one. Now, an air of self-consciousness surrounds her, like she’s caught between knowing nothing and everything all at once.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me,” she rushes out. There’s a pang of guilt when you realize she thinks you’re angry.

“No, it’s fine,” you insist, softening your tone. “I’ve just been in my head.”

She nods and feels more comfortable to step up alongside you.

“I’ve seen those pictures you’ve been looking at.” She continues when you don’t say anything, “Was that your sister?”

Neither you or Joel have brought her up, but your silence is an answer.

“What was she like?”

“I don’t remember much.”

Only bits and pieces. The larger gaps have been filled in by Joel over the years. He never talks about Sarah at length, but sometimes he’ll see something or you’ll make an expression that reminds him of her. That usually prompted him to tell a short story. Oftentimes, without meeting your eyes because he was too busy trying to busy his restless hands. Talking about her always makes him fidget.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know what it’s like to lose someone.”

Ignoring her, you ask, “Did Joel say when we were gonna start back hiking?”

Embarrassed, Ellie clears her throat and shakes her head no. “Why do you use his first name like that?” You almost hadn’t realized.

“Force of habit.” Her brows have furrowed in confusion, so you explain, “Half the time, people in the QZ only listened to me when I threw his name in the mix. It holds a lot of weight among certain groups these days.”

“Like he’s the boogeyman or something?”

You allow a small chuckle to escape at her words. She feels like it earns her a place back in your good graces. Pride glimmers in the grin that stretches across her face.

“Something like that,” you agree.

The familiar crunch of leaves rises as Joel makes the short venture over to the two of you. When he sees the fleeting smiles on your faces, he clears his throat and waits to see if he’ll be invited into whatever small moment of amusement had arisen. He seems to have just missed it.

“Speaking of the devil,” Ellie says,

Joel frowns, remaining quiet as he walks up to the edge of the creek. He stares into the bottom for a few thoughtful seconds. Both of you watch as he squats down to splash his face with water, humming with refreshment.

Ellie no sooner moves to copy him. She laughs, a bubbly surprised sound, as she stands with her face dripping and eyes squeezed shut.

“Wait, how do I—”

“Use your shirt,” Joel quips lightly.

“Oh, yeah!” She uses her shirt to dry her eyes just as he had.

The chuckle that rumbles through Joel’s chest is a sound you haven’t heard in a while. It makes you stand up straighter, unconsciously shifting his way as if the sound has the power to heal that part of you that misses him even when he’s within reach. Misses how things were before he grew hard and consumed with the need to survive.

You didn’t fault him for it, though.

What’s become increasingly clear, however, is that need was born as much out of spite as it was out of the pure, unadulterated will to live. The end of the world took Sarah, and to Joel, ensuring the two of you endured no matter what was his fuck you to the universe. His proof that everything he cared about couldn’t be ripped from his hands. It was a muddled labor of love.

But right here, right now, he’s laughing. Not urging silence or trying to instill a survival lesson. He’s letting the moment wash over him for what it is. There you stand watching the two of them like a mere onlooker frozen in place. The entire scene is reminiscent of a different time. A different Joel.

Something heavy and bitter settles in your stomach at the sight of their twin smiles.

“Are you gonna try it?” Ellie asks like she’s referring to some grand experience.

“It’s just water,” you say flatly.

Face falling, Ellie looks to the ground as if the bridge connecting you two had been burned yet again. Something protective flares in Joel’s chest.

He gives you a pointed look. “You feelin’ alright?”

“I’m great. Grand even.”

The air shifts, levity disappearing like a vapor. All three of you can feel it.

“Let’s keep moving then.”

For weeks, you keep it moving. Through rain, shine, and snow. The closer you get to Wyoming, the further away you drift from Ellie and Joel. Like you’re the corner piece of an island that’s been chipped away from the larger landmass.

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Arriving at the Jackson commune does little to mend things back to the way they were. Some days pass by with more conversation and laughter between the three of you than others. Coming here had been the very thing you longed for, right alongside Joel. But tonight, as you fold clothes at the secondhand store where you volunteer, you wonder what there is to dream about now.

You don’t know what you like or want. You were so young when the outbreak began that Joel’s practices and motivations became your own. You don’t know where he ends and you begin, and the inability to distinguish makes a part of you resent him.

The bells above the door jingle as Ellie enters with her backpack slung over her shoulder. Half of her hair is pulled into a ponytail, while the other falls in loose waves just past her shoulders. For once, it looks like she brushed it properly.

You see more of her than Joel these days.

“Hey, I’m gonna go over to Dina’s,” she says as she pads over to you. “Joel’s not home yet so I figured I’d come tell you.” She absentmindedly runs her hand over the cashmere sweater you’d folded minutes prior to her arrival.

You set down the pair of jeans you just finished folding. “He’s not?”

“No,” she says, unphased. “Probably went straight to the dining hall.”

A dull, gnawing sense of worry arises in your chest. Ellie can’t see it or feel it herself, still tending to believe Joel was somehow invincible. That every time he went out for patrol, he was bound to return because that’s what he’d proven to her so far.

“Be safe, okay?” you tell her. “Thanks for letting me know.”

When she leaves, you head to the store owner in the back room. He’s rummaging through a huge box of donated items.

“Hey, Stewart?”

There’s a click as two glasses knock into one another. “Goddammit—what?” He straightens up to turn around and face you.

He has a head full of wiry gray hair and his glasses are crooked on his nose. There’s a light sheen of sweat beading on his forehead.

“You alright back here?” you tease lightly. He grumbles and waves you off. “Would it be okay if I clocked out early? Natalie and Craig are out there, so you’ll still have help until closing.” It’s been pretty slow this evening anyways. No chance a random rush would occur.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want, kid.” He huffs and looks back down at the box. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“You’re the best, Stew.” You flash him a playful smile.

Outside, you shiver at how cold it’s grown. Crossing your arms over your chest does little to alleviate the creeping chill. The first snow of the season has yet to fall, but you can feel it lingering in the crisp air. Nevertheless, Jackson Hole is buzzing. People of all ages flit in and out of shops and gathering spaces. Everywhere you look, there’s a friendly face, if not an actual friend.

This time of year, the entire commune is reminiscent of those cute Christmas village displays. Plush wreaths with red bows hang on wooden posts, and colorful fairy lights shine all around. The most activity buzzes over at the dining hall. Families talk and laugh on the benches outside, and you can see people walking around inside through the windows.

As you head that way, the two men standing on the patrol office porch capture your attention. It was probable that Joel was inside either logging or assessing his hours.

When you make it to the building, you recognize the taller man as Cameron, someone who often partnered with Joel because they had the same, collected, no-nonsense way about them. They automatically nod to you in greeting, but their lips are set in firm lines like they have news you don’t.

You offer a shaky smile back as a lump forms in your throat, “Evening.”

Your heart rate speeds up as Cameron opens the door for you. Inside, six men stand circled around Tommy, who’s tone is firm as he talks with his hands. Some have rifles slung over their shoulders, and others have pistols on their hips. Standing among the group is Lyle, a younger guy who was scheduled to be Joel’s partner today.

The only person missing is Joel.

You allow your eyes to rove over the plaques, portraits, and retired weaponry decorating the walls as you await the end of Tommy’s lecture.

“Let what happened out there today be a lesson—” Tommy stops talking when his eyes fall on you, and other heads turn to look your way. A few throats are cleared, necks are scratched.

“Hold on a second, fellas.” He breaks out of the circle and heads towards you, cowboy boots clunking against the wood floorboards. There’s a rifle draped across his body like he’s ready for action.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to gather what this meeting is all about. Everybody has discretely turned to look at the two of you.

“Tommy…”

“Why don’t we step outside for a second, yeah?” He places a gentle hand at the small of your back to guide you back out into the cold. Cameron and his buddy slip inside out of respect for your privacy.

“What’s going on, Tommy?”

He wrestles with how to answer. You see it in his dark eyes, the way he shifts his stance. His cheeks are a bit flushed.

“Joel hasn’t made it back,” he breathes. “Lyle made it in without him around an hour ago. Said they ran into some disgruntled nomads and got split up,” he says. “Got a few people out looking for him now, and I’m about to go out myself.”

How foolish you’ve been acting these past several weeks hits you all at once. Everything from purposely distancing yourself from Joel, to occasionally ignoring him whenever he tried to ask how you’ve been—you’d made a point to be away from the house as much as possible. Most of all, it’d been foolish to pretend he wasn’t one of the only people in the world you wouldn’t be able to live without.

A stinging sensation pricks in your eyes, but no tears form. You don’t have it in you to cry. Helplessness crashes down on you in the form of frustration.

“What do you mean came back without him?” you ask. “What good are patrol partners if they’re just gonna leave you behind—”

“Hey. Hey.” Tommy looks at you intently. His eyes are so much like Joel’s that you look away. “This ain’t the time to be pointing fingers, alright? When you’re out there like that and shit hits the fan, you don’t know how you’ll react.”

“Definitely not by leaving my partner behind.”

Joel had never left you behind. Things had gone sideways time after time again, but you managed to remain by each other’s side.

Worry radiates off of you in waves.

“I’m worried out my ass too,” Tommy admits, trying to assure you. “But judging other people ain’t gonna bring him back any faster,” he says.

When release a heavy exhale and slink your head down, Tommy steps forwards to wrap his arms around you.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he promises. “You eaten dinner yet?”

“I’ll probably throw up if I do.”

He pulls away to look at you under the soft glow of the porchlight. “Let’s at least try to get a little something in your system, okay? I’ll walk you over to the dining hall.” Tommy guides you that way, and everything around you seems to fade in and out as you walk.

Tommy’s words manage to break through to you, “I know my brother. He’ll make it back one way or another,”

He always did. Maybe a bite to eat didn’t sound so bad.

•••

The unyielding weight of your nerves forces sleep to find you when you make it home. Not in your bed, but on the couch as you sit and wait for Joel’s return. Worrying has taken a lot out of you.

Creaky footsteps arise out on the porch. Then the lock clicks. Neither of which you register. By the time Joel is walking in through the front door, your eyes flutter open. There’s a slight sway to his stride like he’s favoring one leg. Other than that, he’s still in one piece. You’re on your feet in an instant, ignoring the crick in your neck.

“Oh my god, Dad—thank god.”

Joel stops in his tracks as you hurry over to him. He lets you look him over as if he’s a child who just fell off a bike.

“Hey, sweetheart,” there’s a rasp to his voice.

Relief is written all over your face. It’s the most interest you’ve shown in him in weeks, but he’s grateful for it anyways. He’s grateful for any mind you’re willing to pay him.

There’s so much you want to say—I thought I lost you, don’t scare me like that again, I love you—but none of it comes out. Instead, it’s all packed into the way you step forward to throw your arms around him.

But even hugging him brings you close enough.

Luckily, he’s so tall and broad that you settle for the feeling of being safe, cocooned in his arms. He squeezes you, not in the playful way that used to be a means of making you smile, but in a way that solidifies his presence. Assures you that he’s never going to let go. That you don’t have to worry about living without him.

As your tears wet his shirt, he doesn’t ease up or pull away. He remains constant like he’s been throughout your entire life, even on the days you thought you wanted him to disappear.

He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head and you’re overcome with warmth.

“I love you to pieces,” his voice is low and thick with sincerity. “So much it hurts.”

It’s you who reluctantly pulls away to look up into his eyes.

“I love you too,” you murmur, cheeks glistening with tears.

The tears gathered in his eyes finally spill over. He doesn't turn away or tilt his head back in an attempt to fend them off. They simply roll down his cheeks at your words. You can’t recall seeing him cry since Sarah passed away. Guilt, sympathy, and gratitude swell in your chest. For the years he’s been strong for the both of you, for everyone who’s ever leaned on him in a time of need. He never made it look hard.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

“As long as you’re safe, I can handle being ignored.” He manages a small, sad smile. “It ain’t easy growing up during the end of the world.” Few things ever were.

“It’s a little easier with you.”

“Just a little?” He asks lightly.

Both your smiles grow, and as you step back into his arms, every gripe and the chaotic events of the evening fade away.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x daughter reader #joel x daughter reader #the last of us #hbo tlou #tlou #pedro pascal

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two-white-butterflies · 2 months ago

Text

gave you all my best me's (ii)

Description: Aemond tries to figure out if his feelings are real. A revelation sends this house of cards crumbling down.

Pairing: (past! jacaerys velaryon/reader), aemond targaryen/reader

PART ONE ||

Aemond takes a nervous bite of his mini-Oreos. It's been a week since he introduced you to his family, and all his relatives have been sending him kind messages. However, his father has refused to return all of his calls. Nothing new, he muses.

"Are you okay, hun?" You sit beside him, and the sofa slightly shifts to accommodate your shared weight. "Yeah," he responds reluctantly. He doesn't exactly know how to feel. He sometimes looks at you and thinks about turning this relationship into a real thing, but then, he remembers your conversation with Jacaerys on the balcony...

Everything has been so blurry and difficult lately.

What if Jacaerys suddenly calls, and you pick up, and everything returns to where you left it off?

"It's just been a tough couple of weeks," he reasons.

But he knows that the feelings that thump inside of his ribcage are far too complex to explain. "Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, and he shakes his head.

nameofficial posted to her story!

caption: with mr lover lover 😎 song: Boombastic by Shaggy

YOU are you aight you been pushing me away lately :((

AEMOND TARGARYEN I'm a little busy with work We're releasing a new phone this month

YOU does this have something to do with the jacaerys thing?

AEMOND TARGARYEN Ofc not xx I respect you It's not like we have a 'real' relationship

seen.

Your eyebrows merged together in fury.

It's not like we have a 'real' relationship.

You continued to stare at his message. Actually, you were glaring at your phone - until it suddenly fell on your face.

"Shit," you cursed. "Fuck," you continued.

The fact that Aemond wasn't entirely lying pierced your heart. Your feelings for him have blossomed these past few months, you didn't need a verbal reminder that this was all contractual. That he only chose to be pretend married to you because it meant inheriting his father's fortune. You are not important to him.

Thanks for the reminder, Aemond.

You were pleasantly surprised when Alicent invited you for a cup of tea. Aemond told you that his mother kept to herself, she only talked to people inside her small circle. You remember that the only thing that she acknowledged you with were small smiles and nods, but it's good that she's finally warming up to you.

I mean...you are going to be her pretend daughter-in-law.

"I am sure that you are not unfamiliar with the way our family conducts our business," Alicent begins the conversation, taking a leisurely sip of her tea. "- it's a new age, but some of our members are still stuck in the past." She gives you a thin-lipped smile.

What was she going to say next? She voted for Hillary Clinton in the last election. "- especially my husband. He is a traditional man. Before we got married, I was in my third year of medical school. I wanted to be a pediatrician, but he gave me an ultimatum, told me it was either him or being a pedia, and I chose him." She speaks with regret.

"Pardon?" You raised an eyebrow, unaware of where this conversation was leading. "My husband knows there are charges against you by the Spanish Government, which is easy to fix, but there is a stain on your reputation. You are not the kind of woman that he finds worthy of being a member of our family. He will not allow your wedding to pull through, and if it happens, Aemond stands to inherit nothing." Alicent explains with a deep breath.

You wanted to tell her that you were no longer here for the money, but Aemond would want the inheritance, right?

Alicent reaches for her handbag, dropping an envelope of cash to cover the bill for this tea party. She reaches for your hand, holding it with both of hers. "Please stay away from my son," she begs. "- you can find another husband, but I cannot find another him." Alicent pleads, not wanting her son to fall in his ranks in society.

Reputation means everything to people like them.

"Yes, of course." You forced yourself to agree.

It's what Aemond wants.

"Please don't mention this to him. I love him, but he doesn't love me enough to abandon you." You took a deep breath. She reaches for her handbag again, writing you a check for millions of dollars but you shake your head.

"- he'll have kids in the future with a woman that isn't me, but someone that you think is proper enough for him. You won't even remember my name by then. I don't need money, Mrs. Targaryen. I'm happy to have been here." You removed your engagement ring, placing it on the table.

"Thank you," she looks up with a sad smile.

"Thank you too," you answered, leaving without looking back.

AEMOND TARGARYEN Where are you? I bought some pad thai

AEMOND TARGARYEN Are you still there?

AEMOND TARGARYEN My mom told me I'm sorry Let's talk

YOU MISSED A CALL FROM AEMOND TARGARYEN. (39)

(ONE YEAR LATER)

WHY DID Y/N L/N DISAPPEAR?

It has been one year since singer Y/N L/N was last seen wandering around New York City. Thirteen months ago, MTV announced that her engagement with tech-CEO Aemond Targaryen had broken off. A close friend alleges that their breakup was amicable, and the couple were just heading towards different paths in life.

A year ago, Y/N L/N deactivated her social media accounts.

Six months ago, all charges by the Spanish government against her were dropped, citing that it was a third-party accounting firm that caused the mismanagement of funds. L/N was let go with a minor fine. It has been radio silence for quite some time now, but according to a few insiders, the singer is seen roaming NYC once more...

Why did she disappear? And why is she back?

nameofficial: i stayed there.... THANK YOU FOR INVITING ME AND @luciechurchill!! @taylorswift. i love you so much ❤️

liked by 2,128,321 others

>comments

taylorswift: I'm so glad you enjoyed the era's tour 💙💙💙💙💙 - nameofficial: twas absolute cinema 🤯

Y/NSUPPORT: SHE'S BACK !!! and she's paid her taxes 🇪🇸

BigBlueEyes6: Y/N stays the queen of the revolution 🇪🇸 bella ciao bella ciao bella ciao ciao ciao 👺

replies:

sexybaliye: I HAVE BEEF WITH HIM BECAUSE HE TOOK HER THIRD ALBUM AWAY FROM US 😭 MY ASS WILL FOREVER MOURN LOVER - applepie59: BYE...Karma by TS is Lover in a diff font - sexybaliye: Albums that will never be released LOL

hauntedasshome8: I'm not heartbroken....also me: Y/N L/N

nameofficial: I love the crowd in Nashville. I'm so happy to be opening the ERA'S TOUR by @taylorswift. ❤️

liked by 1,329,921 others

>comments

comments have been restricted.

"How long are you going to keep attending the concerts?" Aegon sits on one of the ottomans. He gives his brother a lazy smile before callously lighting his cigarette - knowing that he wouldn't get into trouble because his grandfather owned the hotel. "Why are you so curious about it?" Aemond rolls his eyes.

"I find it kind of weird that you leave after the opener," Aegon comments. "- don't you want to talk to her?" Aegon inquires.

"She looks fine," Aemond breathes. He doesn't want to ruin your quit life just because he dreams of being in your arms again. If you've moved on, then he has no choice but to follow in your footsteps.

"I've been analyzing her note changes," Aegon puffs.

"You pay attention to that?" Aemond raises an eyebrow.

Aegon chuckles annoyingly, as if he was your biggest fan. "When she says lay on the horn, there's a slight change in her voice, which probably means that it haunts her." He quotes your lyrics. "- in one of the surprise songs, she looked really sad when singing about the snow globe spinning round and round." Aegon continues his analysis.

He looks at Aemond again, who is looking at him with a strange stare. "Men are so stupid," Aegon stands up - he rolls his eyes before leaving the room and slamming the door loudly.

Aemond continues to watch you from the front row, he's already memorized your routine by now. He takes a sip of the beer that Aegon smuggled inside, and everyone cheers around him - seeing your faint figure begin to march towards the front stage.

"This song is going to be a part of my third studio album, I figured that I should share it with all of you first." You smile, strumming your guitar. "The apartment we won't share. I wonder what sad wife lives there." You begin your song. "Have the windows deciphered her stares? Do the bricks in the walls know to hide the affairs?" You walked around.

Freezing once you see him.

Aemond Targaryen in the flesh.

"The dog we won't have is now one I would not choose. The daughter we won't raise still waits for you." You walked past him. You could attend a million interviews after this and swear to god that you're not over him, but you'd be lying. Because you still love him. You still love all the ways that he'd massage your scalp.

"The girl I won't be is the one that's yours. I hope you shortly find what you long for." You glanced at him again. Seeing him feels like getting electrocuted. It makes you happy but at the same time really, really sad because you know that he doesn't feel the same way. "A year and some change. Isn't it strange?" You looked at him.

One word and you'll come running back to him.

"I'm sure she's beautiful and sweet." You continued strumming your guitar. "But you're the only thing I need," you change the lyrics, your voice beginning to fade in the background.

Aemond nervously bounces his legs, and a few security guards escort him backstage - and now he's waiting for you to finish your last song. He fidgets with the engagement ring inside his palms. It's a family heirloom, a ring that Alicent gave him that came from his grandmother, Alerie.

"Aemond," you say with a reluctant voice. "Y/N," He breathes, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

"What are you doing here?" You questioned, taking in the sight of him. "Let's get back together, please," he begged, offering you the ring that was inside of his palms. "What are you talking about? I thought that wasn't part of the deal, your dad won't leave you anything." You stared deep into his eyes.

"I love you," he confesses.

"The day that you left, I wanted to tell you." He adds.

"I only left because I thought that you didn't feel the same way," your frown deepened.

A chuckle escapes your mouth, truly in disbelief at how the tides shifted in your favor.

He drops on one knee.

"Marry me," he says.

"Of course," you agree.

Meeting his lips with fiery passion.

nameofficial: I take this magnetic force of a man to be my LOVER.

liked by 3,812,923 others

>comments

bananalols: ok what happened to hello, how are you?

helaenatargaryen: Congratulations sis and bro!! 🧡

Nour192: UMM THIS IS SO UNEXPECTED...

aemondtargaryensapphires: Happy wedding.

liked by 123,182 others

>comments

comments have been disabled.

nameofficial: I'm so happy to make it with you ❤️

liked by 3,239,192 others

>comments

imthatbitch2: Congrats, we didn't even know that u were engaged lols

HundredBoys82: What ever makes u happy...boo?

ColossalTitan: MRS LOVER LOVER

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @mxxny-lupin @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @sumsumcooluser @rebstrg @bladestark @ninihrtss @julczimozart @narahwolfqueen16

REQUESTS FOR THE BONUS FLUFF PARTS ARE AVAILABLE just send them on my inbox!!

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sentientcave · 10 months ago

Text

Retirement Party

Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey

<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.

~3.2k

When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.

After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”

The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.

Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”

“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”

“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”

“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”

John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”

“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”

You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.

"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."

"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."

John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."

"It's not my house."

He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."

You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."

Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.

John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.

Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.

"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"

You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."

"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"

"Yes."

"Didja want more?"

You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."

"I'd like to see ye com--"

"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."

"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."

"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."

"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."

"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.

Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"

"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."

You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”

The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.

Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.

You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”

John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.

“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”

You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”

It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,

He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”

His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”

“No more surprises planned?”

John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”

“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.

He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”

“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.

John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.

You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.

"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."

"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."

"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."

"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."

"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."

"King now," John points out.

"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."

"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.

"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.

"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"

"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."

"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."

"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.

"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”

Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”

You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.

As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.

You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.

Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.

"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."

He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."

"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."

"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."

"Just most?"

He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.

You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.

He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."

Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.

“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.

“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.

“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”

“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”

You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”

"Goodnight, doll.”

You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.

Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.

“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.

“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.

“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”

“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.

“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”

“John…”

He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.

“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”

“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”

"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.

"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."

"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."

"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.

"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."

"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."

Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."

"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."

He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."

You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.

"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."

Thanks for reading!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#cod mw fanfiction #cave writing #John Price x Reader #x reader #dark fic #This chapter was so hard to write so I'm sorry if it's not as good #but the good news is that the next chapter is already finished! So I'll post it tomorrow #John you are so awful I hate you what is wrong with you #Also: I have like 4k of two lil Nitro fics because she captured my heart so we have that to look forward to as well #Anyway enjoy!#Retirement Party #Retirement Party Chapter 3 #Initially forgot a readmore lmao

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snakewithawitchhat · 5 months ago

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Bill Headcanons

I have enough of these to fill up my guts whatever that means

Includes: Normal, readerxbill platonic, readerxbill romantic, freaky stuff he into

Normal

He definitely said skibidi once because he had no idea what it meant or where it came from

He would probably honest to god enjoy interacting with an iPad kid because he thinks they're fucking funny

Tea person over coffee

Probably reads books on the randomest subjects. Mostly they all have human psychology in common, though. Or anatomy.

His favorite kids movie is Wreck It Ralph, favorite adult movie is Shawn of The Dead (He doesn't believe British people are actually real and finds the movie funny), favorite horror movie is probably something really obscure and is just plain goreporn or something like that.

(In my opinion) I feel like if he had a more anthropomorphic form (legs and arms and body) it would probably be something VERY weird core or something like that. Like, extra limbs, weird ass colors, and random effects. He'd probably keep the triangle imagery, though.

Would definitely just say random ass shit to freak people out

He has a thing for teeth. Not, like, a weird thing or a sex thing. He just really thinks they're cool.

If he had an iPad... he'd spend all day either being your standard reddit user or an iPad kid.

Probably like King from The Owl House sometimes.

Speaking of TOH, he met The Collector once. He thought the kid was neat and played a few games of chess with him before leaving. Probably one of the inspirations for The Collector's insaneness

He also met The Core from Amphibia. Or at least knew the core existed.

His favorite human color is either red, yellow, or orange. It's really everything on the hot side of the color wheel tbh.

Platonic X reader

Dream invasion time-- He would SO rummage through your mind if you made a deal with him.

If you pissed him off, he'd probably jab a fork in your arm while possessing you. He wouldn't be as insane as he was with Stanford's body, though. He wants yours to work properly.

Dream demon or not, he probably had a Drea- NIGHTMARE... it was SO a nightmare... about having more fun with you if you built the portal.

Would be touchy. Not in a weird way (if you ask, he'll stop) but he'll just, like, pat your shoulder or something like that.

If Weirdmageddon 2 happens he is SO finding you and inviting you to his party. You're coming, too. You don't got a choice. Womp womp.

If one of his friends were to eat you, he'd probably be disappointed as all hell, but it really depends on how close you are with him. Besties? He'd kill that monster and resurrect you with the parts left. Just acquaintances? Who are you again?

Would still possess you even after he gets a physical form. (he likes to prank you)

Romantic X reader

Clingy bastard. If your insert is mortal, he'll be by your side 24/7 if Weirdmageddon is happening. Even if your insert ISN'T mortal.

Would be even MORE touchy.

He'd set up boundaries and be clear with his own while probably ignoring yours. (he isn't a great partner)

It's probably a toxic one-sided relationship at first. Bill is NOT a good person at ALL. He always had a goal in mind. He sees his romantic interest of you as a little thing that just ALSO happened.

Probably gets flustered by affection really easily if you're the one showing it.

He won't know much about human affections, so you'll probably have to show him the ropes.

Before you do THAT, though, he'll probably just bite you (with his freaky fucking eyeball mouth thing). Not even as a sexual or possessive thing. He just likes to bite you. It's like an awkward thing he can't control. Get too close and he can feel your warmth? Bite. Bite. BITE. It's not light stuff, though. It's always hard enough to draw blood. Purposeful or not. (It's not on purpose)

He doesn't get JEALOUS, but he does get a little insecure if you start getting infatuated with someone else.

If you're hurt from someone, you BEST know he's overprotective as fuck. Your puny mortal body is pathetic, but if you lose it, he loses you, too.

You aren't aging ever again. You aren't DYING ever again. No. He won't let you die ever. Body is giving out? Here's a new one. Forgetting...? No, he'll plant more memories in your mind. He's too late and you're dead...? No you aren't... You'll always be conscious. Whether your body is rotting around your mind or not.

Sex junk

Sadist. 100% all the way. Not even light things, like slaps. No, if you consent, he will full on break your bones.

He doesn't feel sexual gratification like humans do, so it's more of just something he'll do to either please or displease you. Whichever one, it's almost always about how you feel.

He doesn't have a dick, so you'll be on the receiving end always. Unless you REALLY want to give.

He has a giant eyeball on him. He definitely likes to watch.

Always tops because there isn't much you can do to dominate him. He'll try to let you if you really wanna, but it probably won't be the easiest.

Blood kink. That's it. He thinks it's so pretty on you. Especially if it's yours.

#x reader #headcannons #writing #gravity falls #book of bill #bill cipher #yandere bill cipher #bill cipher x reader #platonic #romantic #smut

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soapybutt17 · 1 year ago

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Baby Mama

Summary: Downtime was rare and far in between, but with your maternity leave now done and over with, your husband thought it would be a good time as any to invite everyone to your shared home for a mini celebration. It should have also been a good idea to let everyone know about the small little fact that not everyone was made aware of your relationship or the fact that there was a sleeping baby upstairs that hated Soap’s boisterous laughter for some reason. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Farah Karim. Alex Keller. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,313 Chapter Warnings: None.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

“Sit down, Rookie. We’ve got it covered.”

You wanted to glare at your husband and the rest of the taskforce that had made it their mission to ensure you were not in-charge of handling meal preps for the upcoming party you and your husband had decided to start in celebration for both your return back to the base as well as the success of their previous mission.

“Why do I feel like a guest in my own home?” You playfully questioned as Gaz placed a cup of tea in front of you. A reassuring smile rested on his lips.

“You’ve been wide awake until the early morning taking care of the little girl sleeping upstairs. Quite frankly, we’d prefer you to sleep instead than deal with the rest of us here.” Gaz explained as he returned back to helping Soap with prepping for the marinade for the barbeque.

“I’ve dealt with worse.” You pouted, ignoring the pointed look on your husband knowing they were right.

“Just because you’ve dealt with it on missions doesn’t mean you should deal with it in our home, Darling.” John sighed wiping his hand to come sit beside you on backyard patio.

Since your maternity leave and your husband’s own paternity one, you’ve somehow gotten enough money and time to make some new renovations to the home. One that you were proud of the most was the patio that would not only be a place for you and your husband to enjoy for yourselves, but for the guest he was slowly but surely becoming welcome to inviting—especially now.

With Soap and Gaz prepping the marinate and vegetables and Simon dealing with most of the meat (surprised by the fact that he was once a butcher before joining the military), you and your husband were left to your own devices for a while.

“Little Katherine still asleep?” He inquired.

You turned your attention towards the baby monitor, seeing your daughter thankfully still asleep in her crib.

It still amazes you that this little human was a product of your love and devotion to your husband. Even with her arrival an unplanned surprise for the both of you, you’ve both taken it to stride and made the most out of the experience. Your husband hoping for another few along the way but you made him promise to wait until little Katherine was a little older first.

“Asleep for once.” You sighed resting your head against your husband’s shoulders as you two continued watching the boys helping out for the party. “Why are we letting them help us with our own party again?”

“They did this to themselves surprisingly. When they heard we’re having this party, they immediately worried about you and the baby and adding the mess of the party to the mix. You’ve got those boys wrapped around your fingers and it’s worrisome at times.”

You giggled nudging him slightly at this comment.

“Speaking of people wrapped around your fingers, Alejandro and Rudy will also be coming tonight.”

You smiled, happy to know more of the friends you’ve made during missions have also come to visit. Having missed your time on the base, having them here for a get together would be a treat. You would also be ignoring the implication of your husband’s words towards Las Almas’ Colonel and Sergeant Major.

Somehow, it had become a topic of discussion for the rest of the boys how the Colonel had a little crush on you which you thought was ridiculous. Alejandro Vargas was nothing but professional to you and to the rest of the team. As far as you know, the man was just a little appreciative of the help you had given to them during Grave’s takeover of his base all those months ago, nothing more.

“You think Kate, Farah, and Alex would be able to visit too?” You inquired.

“They’re already on their flight here.” He smiled arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Kate’s been bugging me about the house when I told him about the renovations.”

You shook your head already imagining how much teasing Kate probably needed to do for him to finally relent in having the party here instead of renting a place.

A sudden thought had popped into your head as you turned directly towards your husband.

“Hold on, aside from the three boys, who else knows about our relationship?” You inquired.

He blinked only realizing himself that he hasn’t gotten around and told anyone about the two of you. Everyone had become aware of him having a wife and the paternity leave he had to take meant everyone was also aware that he was a new father, but no one not even Kate was made aware that you were the wife and the mother of his six-month old daughter.

“John did you not tell them yet?” You questioned.

“I may or may not have forgotten to tell everyone.” He grinned sheepishly.

Before you could give him an earful, the sound of your daughter’s cries halted you from your actions. You’ve all but noticed the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. Oh you’re going to get back at him for this somehow. You just know it.

“Rookie, it’s good to finally see you. How’s the leave been?”

Captain John Price was a lot of things. He was a patient man. He could be a brash man. He was a man that commands respect and authority. But in this very moment as you wore his favorite sun dress on you, he knew he could not be all of those things.

He was being punished. It was a certain and each and every single men of his Taskforce knows about it as well. It had honestly and genuinely slipped his mind, with both the past mission and his need to finally be back at home, he never had the time to orient everyone and anyone involved at base about his relationship and marriage to you until now that is.

“Good to see you and the wife too.” You smiled turning your eyes towards your husband pointedly before beginning an animated conversation with Kate and her wife.

John and the rest of the boys were in charge of grilling and giving everyone refreshments. You had decided it was your job to be a good host to everyone as people were slowly but surely filling his home.

“Someone’s sleeping in the couch tonight then?” It was Simon that pointed it out and John could only glare at the man as he continued on with flipping the steaks.

All three of the boys had become aware of the pettiness you could dish out towards their Captain. It wasn’t so often that it happens but the paradigm shift of their Captain not truly being in charge as soon as he was in the confinements of his own home.

“Happy wife, happy life.” John found himself speaking as his attention was still set on the grill.

His own anxiety somehow spiked up the moment an all too familiar Spanish endearment had escapade from the Las Almas-native. Alejandro Vargas was fashionably late as ever.

He had ordered Simon to continue on with cooking as he made his way towards where Alejandro was now in a full discussion with you. It didn’t escape John’s eyes the smoldering look the Colonel was giving his wife. What annoyed him even more was how much you were unbothered—or rather, unaware of it on your own end. Giving the man a smile and those warm gaze that was somewhat always reserved for him and the rest of his men.

“Good to see you, Alejandro.” John had interrupted your little conversation.

“Price. It’s good to see you again, Hermano.” The man chuckled enveloping him into a hug for a moment.

Even with the conversation that now began between him and the Colonel, It didn’t miss his gaze how the both of them would glance right at you as you now stood beside John and joining in on the conversation. It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how your hand held onto his arm, showcasing the often concealed engagement ring and wedding ring he had gifted you all those years ago when he proposed and made you his wife.

“I see you’ve gotten married while on break, it seems congratulations are in order.” Alejandro finally acknowledge the elephant in the room taking everyone’s notice as well.

“Actually,” You trailed off turning your head towards him, a playful smile on your lips almost waiting for him to make the acknowledgement instead.

“We—we just had a baby.” John finally admits at the same time the sound of the baby monitor going off.

Everyone was silent aside from Soap and Gaz’s cackles. With a relieved smile you excused yourself to get the baby for everyone to meet leaving John on the hotseat, especially at the hands of both Kate and Farah.

“Hold on, since when have you and Rookie been in a relationship?” Kate questioned, a big smile playing on her face. Oh he could already see the array of torment that was to come during missions with this tidbit about his personal life.

“Since I was a Sergeant and she was a newly appointed Lieutenant.” John sighed scratching his beard and knowing full well you were taking your sweet time with your daughter leaving him to the wolves. “Married for fourteen years.” He added, being all too reminded of the fact that as soon as he had finished up with the mission that saved both Farah and her brother all those years ago, he knew it in his heart that there would never be a perfect time for the two of you to marry but in that very moment in your humble apartment in the heart of London all those years ago.

“Fuck, I lost the bet then.” Alex interrupted the moment of shock still resting on everyone as he handed Farah a few quid which she happily took with a smug smile on her face.

“Well I appreciate the bets being thrown around about my personal life.” He muttered.

“I’ve always knew something was going on with the two of you, Old man.” Farah pointed out. “It was just a matter of determining what status the two of you were to each other at this point.”

So much for acting low key about his relationship.

The hot seat was now away from him as you walked back out with the prettiest little baby he had ever seen in his life (he was bias definitely as this was his child after all). Woken up from her nap, John could see his daughter still cranky as you continued to coo her.

“Just woke up from her nap.” You excuse immediately handing the baby to him. A smile resting on his lips now as how easy it was to calm his daughter in his hands. How quick it was for her own similar blue eyes to lock onto him for comfort and safety. It was all he could ever give and more to both of his girls.

“Looks just like you, Cap.” Alex pointed out earning a snort out of you and a proud chuckle out of John.

It was an ongoing banter between the two of you, how you complain about carrying your daughter for nine months only for her to look just like him. But his daughter has your eyes and he was all too certain would be used against him when she learns how to do the puppy dog eyes when she grows up.

“Cries like him too.” Simon quipped earning a pointed look from John and giggle from you and laughter from everyone else.

At the booming laughter of one Soap MacTavish, the first line of tears had burst out of his daughter and you and John had given the man a glare as he began to coo his daughter from her tears.

To say freely acting like a husband and wife in front of most of your coworkers was awkward but a little refreshing to say the least. With your daughter pawned off to her uncles for the next hour or two, it meant you and your husband could freely socialize with the rest of the team in attendance.

“Still can’t believe you two were able to keep it hidden for so long.” It was Kate that finally broke the ice.

“Less hassle for either of us.” John shrugged off, pulling you closer to him.

It was all the more refreshing to see this side of him that no one usually sees. With you sitting on his lap on the love seat as you continued on with your conversation with Kate. How he would do anything and everything in his power to have you close to him, touching any skin he gets his hands on—at this moment it was his hands on your thighs as he held onto them to support you.

“That the reason why you dragged her along with you the TF?” She inquired, playfully.

“One of the reasons, but not the top reason.” John assured.

It was still much of a surrealistic moment when you were called one day by Kate about the Taskforce your husband was forming. You, of all people knew that he wanted to make sure that your lines of work and personal life were separate. But somehow, your capabilities overrode those principles you both have made to each other.

You did your job, quiet well too, so it wasn’t much of a worry that your relationship and association to the man would be also place under scrutiny now when all was said and done. It wasn’t much of an issue when most, if not all of the people in the base had already been calling the both of you as work spouses to each other.

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oksurethisismyname · 8 months ago

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Cinderella Sanji makes so much sense

CinderSanjis mother dies and his father marries a horrible clown (Cesar) and his siblings are horrible to him. His father lets his siblings be mean to him and forces him to work as a servant in his home, leading to him meeting his fairy god father Zeff.

On the other side of the kingdom we have King Mihawk and King Shanks, with their sons Zoro and Luffy. They throw a birthday ball / celebration and Mihawk (being a nosy drama loving bitch) invites “all eligible nobles” to the party just to see his son squirm at the idea of dating.

Blah blah blah Cindersanji is told he can’t go because he’s more servant than actual nobility, Zeff gets the kitchen staff to work together to get Sanji spruced up and on his way to the ball.

Sanji gets to the party and goes to the balcony to avoid his family, but sees some asshole set his plate down with food left on it. He walks over and says typical sanji stuff (“hey fuckface, some people don’t have enough to eat in this god forsaken kingdom, you better eat the rest of that before I shove it down your throat”) and zoro is immediately smitten. Absolutely in love. He obviously fights back, their bickering is fun but suddenly this mysterious blond leaves without an explanation.

Second night of the celebration, Zoro is actively scanning the crowd for his mysterious mouthy blond. He spots him talking with some pink haired girl with the same stupid eyebrows and notices her pushing him to leave. He follows sanji to the gardens where Sanji is hiding from his siblings (thanks to reijus warning). They end up talking about all sorts of things, but it becomes pretty apparent that this blond guy doesn’t realize he’s been flirting/fighting with a prince. once again Sanji runs off without a goodbye.

On the last night, Zoro begs for his name and Sanji gives him the name Sora. They keep flirt bickering and Zoro is about to mention the whole “you do know I’m the prince right?” , but now it’s midnight. when sanji’s fleeing zoro catches his hand and accidentally pulls his glove off, with Sanji getting away but having to leave his glove (it’s leather and he has really long fingers, so don’t come at me saying gloves fit multiple people)

Blah blah zoro and Luffy go searching for the guy from the ball, see sanjis shitty siblings and they are (unlike traditional Cinderella prince) not that fucking dumb and recognize their faces as the face of the guy from the ball. He’s invited to have tea, with judge trying to get Zoro or Luffy to notice Reiju or maybe Ichiji.

Judge calls for Sanji to serve tea and BOOM, eye contact, sparks fly, because Sanji immediately is yelling “what the fuck you followed me to my home???” And zoros yelling “you’re so stupid, of course I came looking for you! I want to marry you, asshole!” Record scratch, silence, all hell breaks loose with yelling from pretty much everyone BUT Reiju and Luffy. Sanji, finally noticing Zoros outfit and the coat of arms on his clothes, realizes WHO he’s been talking to, is gonna leave because holy shit nope he is clearly hallucinating.

Luffy and Reiju tag team getting everything calmed down, stopping Sanji from running and keeping Zoro from stabbing one of the Vinsmoke boys. Something something Zoro confesses that he’s never felt so challenged and wants to get to know Sanji better, Sanji gets to leave his shitty home life and after a year of courtship they get married

Someone who is more talented take all this mumbled gunk and turn it into the fanfic I’m envisioning!!!!

#one piece #cindersanji?#sanjirella #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan #sanji #zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zoro x sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #Prince zoro

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year ago

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The One I Want: Part 10

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: very likely typos, fluffy stuff, cursing i think.

Words: 3157

The One I Want Masterlist

The words ‘I’ll be fine’ are still ringing in your ear, drilled into your brain from the excessive number of times they’d been said or texted in the last ten hours. From the moment you stepped out of your bedroom door this morning, Jake began insisting on picking you up from the shop following your shift. He insisted before you even had a chance to suggest an alternative plan for your day. As soon as you opened your mouth, he had his hand up and head shaking to stop you.

“Don’t even say it,” he said, “I’ll be there to get you, same as always,” to which you responded with what might as well be your new catchphrase: “I’ll be fine.”

His attempts to put his foot down on the matter were unsuccessful as you pointed out every reason why finding your own means of transportation after work is the best solution. He rolled his eyes at “It’s your birthday, Jake,” and snorted at “Your party at the bar starts an hour and a half before my shift ends,” but finally surrendered to “If you’re late, your friends will be disappointed. They mean too much to you for that.” Then he sighed and nodded and continued about his morning routine as you did yours before you headed to the shop. Though you thought you’d won, you received multiple “Are you sure?” texts that were also answered with “I’ll be fine.” And you are fine. Your shift was dull, uneventful, and you had no issue securing a quick ride to The Hard Deck.

Hopping out of the back of the driver’s car is a struggle with the number of bags hanging off your arms. Between your purse, Jake’s present, and the clothes you wore to work shoved into a grocery bag—which were switched with the casual, green knee-length dress you’re wearing—you’re weighed down.

“Need some help there, Sweetness?” Javy is one of few lingering outside the bar, and the only person you know within sight. He smiles and the arms crossed over his chest bounce with his chuckle. Before you answer, he walks over to snatch both your purse and the grocery bag in his hands. “I’m gonna toss these in Jake’s truck. No one will bother them,” he says.

In his brief absence, you stand a little straighter and brush the stray hairs back behind your ear. A low whistle coming from behind you causes you to flinch until you realize it’s from your friend as he makes his way back over to you.

“You're definitely lookin’ lovely,” he teases, and you snort.

“Quit it.”

“No can-do, sweetness. Too pretty to ignore.”

Heat floods your cheeks and you look down at the ivy-green material flowing around your body. It’s about as simple a dress you could find—well, that Millie could help you find after insisting on leaving behind the jeans—but it’s much more than anything you’ve worn in the past. Social events have never been your cup of tea. Not being invited out has left you slim on practice, and that includes every aspect down to your choice of clothing. While Millie did help you pick it out, it doesn’t necessarily mean she is an expert either, but you have no way of knowing for sure. “Is it too much?”

“Not a chance,” Javy replies. “You look amazing. And you happen to be the very reason I am out here instead of in there.”

“Meaning…”

“As Jake’s top-tier friend, I want to be the one to personally deliver his favorite present. Now that you’re here, I can do that,” he says with a wink before holding out his elbow for you to take.

—

Jake’s eyes are already on the door when you walk in, finding you instantly, and his entire body perks up like a man just shot with a bolt of life. Shoulders lose the little bit of slump there was from forearms resting on the high-top table and eyebrows drop their pinch as he watches your every step toward him. Through the mass of bodies Javy assists in weaving you through, Jake’s stare is impressive. It’s steady and he doesn’t lose you, not for a second.

When you reach him, Javy loudly declares “The contest is over! I just won best present.” He then releases you to round the group and pops open a bottle of beer with the edge of the table. By the multiple marks on the wood surface, you imagine—hope, anyway—that Penny doesn’t mind. However, if anyone were to follow her rules and respect the property she requests be respected, it would be this group.

As you stand there greeting the rest of the crew, you can still feel those green eyes. A few other pairs dart back and forth between you and Jake. Tension bubbles around the back corner of the room where the modest party is set up, but it’s not an aggressive tension from distress or concern of discomfort; it’s a tension buzzing wildly with excitement. And from the smiles on faces and the little redhead you’ve bonded with bouncing on her toes, you can begin to guess where this buzzing, humming, zapping energy is coming from.

They know. You’re not sure why a flash of surprise moves through you. Of course, they know. Of course, Jake told them. They’re his best friends. They’re the family he made after the devastation of having his own taken from him. His sharing of what’s happened between you over the last week is normal, so normal that it’s unfamiliar. One more thing you’ll have to get used to if Jake continues to pull you out of the existence you’ve known for so long.

“Hi,” he says. It rides on a heavy exhale that you can barely hear through the cacophony of voices filling the bar.

Jake’s friends appear to go back to their conversations, but they’re no good at disguising their true intentions. Their ears are alert as eyes rely on the strength of their peripheral vision to catch either your or Jake’s next move. A tight squeeze with roaming hands, a deep kiss, an arm wrapping possessively around a shoulder or waist—they’re clearly eager to witness it all, but the anticipation hanging in the air is snuffed out by Jake leaning in and innocently brushing his lips over your cheek. To your side, there is a collective murmuring of disappointment that is, again, poorly disguised.

“You get here ok? I mean, you know, without complication?” Jake asks. A nod joins your budding grin.

“Easy-peasy.” He stares more, his fingers traveling from your elbow to your wrist, and you suddenly remember what’s clutched in your hands. “Oh, I got you this,” you say, holding up the bag. It’s made of a thin, golden paper that’s priced way too high for its quality with clashing orange tissue sticking out of it, and it’s about four sizes too big for the gift you got him, but it was all the shop had last minute.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s your birthday. That’s what people do,” you counter, because even though you’ve never received a present on your birthday, Jake is the type of guy who always should. You hold the bag higher, forcing him to take it.

“Thank you,” he says before turning to set the bag on the table. It’s then that you see the remnants of paper and bows scattered across the wooden surface. Piled on a couple of stools behind Bob are the gifts he has already opened. Jake’s hand starts to dig through the bright orange tissue paper.

“You’re going to open it right now?” you ask, having previously imagined there would be at least a sliver less of attention on the two of you when he does. Your fingers of one hand begin to fiddle with the fingers of the other.

“Sure, why not?” His hand pauses and he looks at you a little harder. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“N-No, it’s fine.” A blond brow raises. “Really, it is.”

He waits a second longer before resuming his discarding of the paper. When he looks inside, his hand retreats, and he watches your gift at the bottom of the bag as if it might start moving on its own. Then his head shakes and he grins ear to ear and he reaches back in to pull it out. The brows of the other aviators pinch in confusion at the globe sitting in the palm of Jake’s hand. In all of its cheap glory, it contains a beach scene with plenty of unnatural sparkly snow settled at the bottom of the liquid which is quickly disturbed by Jake’s light shaking. He chuckles. Then chuckles some more. Crinkles deepen at the corners of his eyes.

“I don’t get it,” Rooster mutters, only to have Millie elbow him in the side.

“You don’t have to,” she scolds. “Now hush.”

Despite Jake’s laughter, when he places the snow globe back in the bag you fear you’ve somehow fucked up. That it’s not as cute as you imagined he would think. That he’d rather you have gotten him nothing over something so silly. But then he faces you, takes your hand, and as he starts to walk away from the table, whispers, “Come with me.”

As you’re led away you glance over your shoulder to see that your friends are all in different states. Nat and Bob are exchanging glances and snickering at the birthday boy’s rapid departure, Millie is smacking her boyfriend’s hand as he reaches for the golden bag, and Javy smirks along with the statement “That certainly didn't take long.”

You look ahead, but before you can fully catch up with your surroundings, you’re yanked through a door and pushed up against the other side of it as a mouth firmly presses to yours. Jake’s palm smacks the surface next to you, blindly feeling around for the deadbolt, and the thud from its turn echoes in the empty bathroom. Then his hands cup your cheeks and you melt as he pulls you in closer.

At a different time, with a different man, unmanageable thoughts would be taking control of your senses right now. Your fingers would be stiffening and your eyes would be snapping open, darting around to take in every square inch of the room in search of signs of other people. You would be listening for any and every sound with such intensity that you’d have a decent count on the number of footsteps passing by the other side of the door. You wouldn’t be letting yourself go or forget your troubles or feel for a single moment because you know what this behavior looks like. You know how others often perceive it. In the midst of past frenzied kisses, your brain would deteriorate into a fractured mess. Ten percent of your mind would struggle to focus on the wandering hands and lips attached to yours; fifteen percent would go to wondering if anyone saw you sneak into the bathroom with a man; twenty would be spent worrying you’ll receive looks of judgment and pity once you rejoin the bar; twenty-five would be questioning why you’re choosing to be in the position you’re in when you know it won’t end well; and the remaining thirty percent would be trying to prematurely push away the shame to come when the somewhat intoxicated man kissing you in the bar bathroom decides he is done.

It’s not a different time, though. You’re not with a different man. You’re exactly where you are, with the man you are with, and you don’t care about anything but him.

Jake is pulled in with hands fisted in the material of his shirt. He’s your only source of stability and direction as he turns your bodies and walks you backward. When your lower back meets the edge of the sink, you separate the kiss and instinctually jump up. Of course you jump. You always jump in these situations. But this time when your bottom lands on top of the counter, you don’t second guess the man whose hips are settling between your spread thighs, whose eyes gaze at you like you’re the most incredible thing they've ever seen, whose hands are threading into your hair, whose lips are once again claiming yours.

His tongue teases the seam of your lips and when you part them so it can slip inside to brush along yours, muffled moans merge. The fingers hidden within the strands of your hair tighten into fists. They stay there until your own hands begin to explore. One index finger curls through a belt loop, tugging inward to remove what little distance remains between you. The other is the first on that hand to dip under the hem of his shirt and stroke over a patch of tanned skin just above the button of his jeans. You love how he feels there—hard with thick muscle but soft from the trail of hair that disappears under a band of denim. Jake shudders against you, and it seems to serve as a reminder that there is more of you for him to touch as well.

With your hair freed, a hand grasps your outer thigh where your dress has ridden up. Fingertips knead flesh as an arm snakes around your waist. A squeak of surprise gets stuck in your throat when that arm jerks forward, unexpectedly managing to inch your bottom closer to the edge of the counter.

There is so much happening, so much to absorb, and you don’t have a chance to mentally address the tick of uncertainty that never showed itself. Instead, you are simply full of the feeling that none of this scares you. Not a bit of it. Not the strength of his arm around you. Not the hand that has begun to slide up your thigh and under the hem of your dress to the swell of your ass. Not the pressing of his hips into the space between your legs. Not the heat he gives off that fights the chill of the room. Not his teeth nibbling your bottom lip, or the whimpers it draws forth that with anyone else would have you shrinking in embarrassment. You’re so far from afraid that you've crossed into happily addicted territory.

His mouth vanishes from yours to latch onto your neck. The sound you make at the new sensation has Jake’s hold on you tightening.

“All because of a—” you gasp from a teasing lick under your ear, “a snow globe?”

You’ve learned that Jake likes to leave trails of his kisses; mark after mark to show the places he’s been. It is between the kisses of this trail from your ear to your shoulder that you hear “Partly the snow globe,” after one kiss, “partly this dress,” after another, and then “mostly just because it’s you.”

Jake chuckles when you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck. You could let him continue on for hours—would, too—but a banging on the door snaps you out of your blissful haze.

Cursing, your spine straightens like a rod. “J-Just a second!” you yell, patting Jake’s shoulder. He hums into your sensitive skin, sending vibrations over your pulse. “Jake, I know you heard that. People want in.” There’s another knock, and another. Leaning back and placing your hands on his cheeks, you force Jake to look at you. “Time for you to leave.”

He holds his finger up. “One condition.”

“No conditions,” you say as you nudge him aside and hop off the counter. “There are women out there who have to pee.”

It’s a boom this time, leaving no question as to the person’s impatience. Twisting around, you glance over yourself in the mirror. Your lips are stolen, hair wild, and as you go about fixing it back into place, Jake’s arms wrap around your waist.

“Promise me we can continue this at home,” he says. “I don't want to stop.”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “Maybe…if you go.”

“Deal.” One more kiss lands on your shoulder before Jake is unbolting the door and jerking it open for whoever is on the other side. He peeks his head out, glances left and right, then looks back at you. “No one’s here.”

“You still have to go.” His face falls into a pout. “Don’t look at me like that. All of your friends are waiting for you, anyway.”

“They're waiting for you, too.”

“It's not my birthday. And I need to fix myself up a bit.”

Jake grins. Watching his reflection in the mirror, you see his eyes linger on your face and chest, enjoying the flush he caused that is more prominent under the fluorescents. They then make a slow line down your body, taking the time to appreciate your ass along the way. “That really is a great dress.”

Your flush deepens. “Go,” you demand, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He winks and then he’s gone.

A squeeze traps the air in your lungs. It caves in your chest, making the thumping of your heart all the more demanding of your attention, and you roll your eyes when it becomes clear that your body is reacting to you missing him. Two seconds apart and you already want him back, and now you feel like a giddy fool; a horny teenager around the first boy to ever truly want her.

Blowing out that trapped breath, you run your fingers through your hair to tame it. It doesn’t manage to return to its previous state, but there is nothing you can do about it. Neither can you remove that pink shade from your cheeks and chest despite the damp paper towel you blot over your skin. You look half-sexed, and it’s comically obvious. But maybe if you channel Jake Seresin energy and walk back to your friends’ table without looking guilty, they won’t look at you like you have something to be guilty of. Not guilty in a demeaning sense, of course, but guilty in a way that will have them shooting teasing looks at you right before Nat and Millie pull you away from the men for details of your actions.

That will have to be your plan, because there is no chance they won’t notice your altered appearance, especially when they immediately knew why you and Jake were disappearing to begin with.

Shaking your head, you tug at the bottom of your dress to make sure all of its seams line up with where they are supposed to be on your body. When you decide it’s about as good as it’s going to get, you head for the door and pull it open, but your path is blocked.

“Good thing he finally left,” Brit says. She steps forward and to avoid a collision you have to take a step back into the bathroom. “Now we have a chance to talk.”

---

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction

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unoislazy · 1 year ago

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BES College Au Headcanons

Characters included: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo, Akemi, Madame Kaji

There are some Mizu x Reader hints shoved in here

A/N: I’m just gonna stop saying what I plan to write next cause every time I do I suddenly either can’t write anymore or something ruins my plans entirely

Also there was an ask that went with this but It got lost in my inbox so I’m sorry to whoever asked but here you go!

Cutie Patootie

————————————————————

Mizu In College

-mizu barely does her homework

-why write things when train?

-she practically lives at the gym

-just cause it’s modern doesn’t mean she has to stop training

-you’d meet her through class

-you had to sit next to her and she was incredibly intimidating at first

-eventually, thanks to certain professors incessant need to give group work, you had to talk to her and realized she’s not as scary as she first seemed

-she’s not a huge party goer

-the one and only time she’d go to a party is because you invited her to go with you after you were invited by Taigen

-Taigen would essentially be a frat boy

-I know you saw how he was with those women who WERENT AKEMI in the first episode

-mizu wouldn’t be able to stand him

-despite not sticking around you the entire time Mizu would literally watch you like a hawk

-she doesn’t have many friends so she doesn’t really have any other reason to be there

-she’s just being a “good friend”

-she’s not a huge drinker either, but if she gets bored she’d take a few sips

-then a few more

-and maybe just a few more

-Taigen would invite you to a party and probably try and hit on you despite it being well known that him and akemi are together

-mizu, of course would’ve seen this, and swooped in no matter how far past tipsy she might’ve been

-she’s good at faking being sober

-100% would “fake” being your partner if it meant getting people to leave you alone

-Mizu is often still seen as a guy but given the time period I’d honestly think she’d go by any pronouns

-I don’t think she would necessarily care if people use he/him for her, but I think she’d prefer she/her

How they get food

-Ringo would complain about dining hall food, but in a very constructive way

-he’d stand in the hall talking at the lunch people (they wouldn’t be listening) about how to improve the meals

-he’d have to be dragged out before he’d talk their ears off

-mizu literally could care less, food is food, she doesn’t eat much anyways

-akemi door dashes, with the money she has? She can afford it

-Taigen probably leeches off akemi

Work Habits

-Mizu’s a HEAVY procrastinator

-Akemi does her work and often gets very good grades

-she has to make her dad proud

-Ringo studies but he gets lost VERY easily

-Taigen does his work but, much like Mizu, he practically lives at the gym so sometimes some things slide under his radar and affect his grade

-he’s scramble to make it up last minute and somehow still get credit

Professor Kaji?

-Madame Kaji as a professor is a funny thought to me

-she wouldn’t be, if anything she’d just work at a club considering that would’ve probably have been the modern day equivalent to a tea house such as hers

-but if she was she would’ve been super strict

-especially on the students who couldn’t give two shits about her class and make it obvious

-she’s have a very rigorous course

-but if she saw a student failing who she knew was actively trying, she’d lighten up a bit and offer actual help (unlike almost every real life professor ever)

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1for5 · 9 months ago

Text

TO ALL THE GIRLS I’VE LOVED BEFORE

paige bueckers x uconn student!reader

with caitlin clark, aubrey griffin, nika muhl, and emily engstler

───────── ⋆⋅🏀⋅⋆ ─────────

CHAPTER 1: Contracts and Parties

prologue ch 2

You know that feeling wherein a name is introduced to you, and you start seeing them all over the place? That is what Y/n is feeling, but it started when the incident with Paige happened. Yes, Paige was everywhere, whether it was on a poster or during school events. However, Y/n kept on seeing her every time you’re at the library, the halls, the cafeteria, and hell even the bar.

On a Wednesday morning, Y/n was free till after lunch. She had a chance to eat outside, especially since the weather was good. Y/n craved Japanese food–particularly Udon, and headed to a Japanese Restaurant. To no surprise, Paige had also just arrived at the restaurant. While waiting for a table, multiple buzzes came from Y/n’s phone.

Emily

Hey, can we talk?

About the letter.

Y/n had no intentions of talking to Emily, as she thought that it would end their friendship and maybe even have her sister dislike her, hence why she is ignoring Emily. When Y/n was signalled to sit down and check the menu, the tall blonde also sat at the seat in front of her. “So.. you going to ignore me or what?” Paige started talking. “We just don’t really talk.” Y/n shrugged, playing with the corner end of the menu. “Why are you seated in front of me?” Y/n added. “I am alone, and you’re alone so..” Paige said and scanned the menu.

It was awkwardly silent after Paige made the comment. “You won’t acknowledge the letter L/n?” Paige cut off the quiet noise. “You are not the only one I wrote a letter to, Bueckers. Don’t act so cocky. I only wrote the letter because you were my first kiss, and it was quite significant to me” Y/n called the waiter and ordered her food.

“So I'm not the only one? And it was all because of that truth or dare kiss? Damn you’re a player” Paige felt shocked. “Well no, that’s not it. I wrote these years ago. Each person at a different time. I wrote four.” Y/n explained, taking a sip of water.

“Four? Care to let me know?” Paige grew curious. “No way!” Y/n protested. “Well you could not tell me and I’ll tell the whole school that you like me..” Paige’s cocky smile grows.

“Excuse me? I am NOT delusional? And plus, no one cares anymore about anyone in college.” You scoffed. The food arrived, and you both thanked the waitress.

“Are you sure? You’re a head school writer too, people know you.” Paige giggled, and took a bite of her food. You rolled your eyes at her, giving a “Don’t test me” look.

“Fine, fine! Okay so of course you’re part of it, then Aubrey Griffin..” you start. “No way! She was my teammate before! But I agree, she is very fine.” Paige laughed.

“Mhm! Moving on.. I also wrote to Caitlin Clark.” You said, starting to get embarrassed. “I see your type. She was our schoolmate for like a year right? But. isn’t she straight?” Paige clarified.

“Oh. I didn’t know and still do not know. She’s very pretty though.” Y/n explained. “Okay next! Er.. Emily Engstler? Do you know her? She’s in the WNBA now.” Y/n continued.

“And another player.. But I know her! I know all things women's basketball. Wait wait.. isn’t she your sister’s girlfriend? Nika?” Paige gasped, and drank from her iced tea with shocked eyes.

“I mean Emily was my best friend, and she was the first person I liked. Didn’t show my feelings though.” Y/n stated. “It feels so damn awkward, and I certainly do not want to talk to Emily about my (then) feelings about her.. so I kinda just.. kissed you? I’m trying to ignore her.” Y/n added. “Damn, that’s crazy L/n. How’d you even become friends with Engstler?” The blonde asked.

“She was my neighbour, and we are 2 years apart, so we kinda related to each other. We were so close, until her and my sister became a thing. They still invited me to their dates but I would always still feel different.” Y/n continued, reminding herself of the friendship she had with Emily.

Paige then got an idea, which Y/n knew was going to be a bad one once she gave you that “I have this crazy idea that I like but you might not like however I want to convince you” look.

“You know that my ex, Mia Clarkson, our school mate even from grade school, fumed when someone told her you kissed me.” Paige started. “Probably. She was my best friend, but our friendship broke after that truth or dare kiss with you.” Y/n shared.

“No way! I never thought that she would have a “history” with you. Anyways, well.. What if we start fake dating? Emily would stop trying to reach you, and Mia would want to get back with me when she sees how I am with another girl!” Paige shared her idea, your head not believing that she just said those words.

“No way. I mean, really?” Y/n wasn’t convinced. “It would be great. When Mia sees us, she would come back to me in no time, especially with your history with her. And if Emily checks her social media apps, then she would see that we are in a relationship, which would give you that boundary.” Paige explained further.

Y/n thought for a while. This could either go so fast or so slow. She thought hard, and weighed the pros and cons. People may hate her, however, she could stay away from Emily for a while till she knows how to approach her. And this could give her new experiences too.

“Fine, deal. But we have to make a contract though.”

“Contract? What would we need a contract for?” Paige asked. “This will be my “first” relationship, and we need boundaries. I do not want my first relationship to have all of its firsts being fakes.” Y/n explained. “I get you. What do you want to put in the contract?” Paige got a paper from her oh so big gym bag. “You probably have your whole life in that bag! Anyways, first rule. I do not like kissing.” Y/n starts.

“How can we show affection then?” Paige followed up. “You can hug me. Oh! You can put your hands in my back pocket.” Y/n smiled. “What are you, an 80s kid?” Paige snickered. “Leave me alone, it's romantic!” Y/n defended herself. “Whatever. Okay next rule. You have to come to my games, and I can come to any programs you would want to bring me to.” Paige wrote on the paper.

“Okay. We would also have to post each other on social media. Not always, but at least make our relationship known.” Y/n took the paper from Paige and wrote the rule. “Deal. Oh! I will give you simple notes, Mia always asked me to give her, but I never did. She’ll go crazy if she sees me give you notes.” Paige said. “And.. You will have to come with me on the annual UCONN ski trip.” Paige added.

The UCONN ski trip? That’s like a day of easy room access for intimacy. Those who did not lose their virginities during high school lost their virginities during the ski trip. Y/n thought. “That’s three whole months from now! Would we even still be doing this by then?” Y/n questioned. “All couples go on the trip. We can just apply this rule if we are still doing this in three months' time.” Paige stated.

“Okay. Fine.” Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at Paige. “We almost forgot the most important rule. We can’t tell anyone, I mean anyone, about this agreement. It would shatter us both.” Y/n took the paper from Paige and wrote the rule with a big font.

“Deal.”

A week has gone by, and the “couple” has two events that they would have to go through: (1) UCONN party held by the women’s basketball team, and (2) a basketball practice game of the women’s team against the men’s. The party is on a Wednesday, as it is the last day of Midterms. The practice game is on a Friday. The game in fact is an annual “event” that many people look forward to, especially those who are fans of both the women’s and men’s team.

It is Wednesday afternoon, and Y/n is preparing for the party. She wore a UCONN t-shirt given by Paige, and simple jeans. Y/n was not sure if she should feel excited or nervous, as it will be the first time she and Paige will be seen together.

While putting on make up, Y/n got a text from Paige, saying that she is near. Paige is automatically the designated driver of the relationship, as Y/n has not earned a license yet. After minutes, she heard a car honk, which stated that Paige was there. She got her bag and headed out to meet Paige in the car.

“Hey, you ready for the party?” Paige asked once Y/n was able to settle down at the front seat of the car. “Yeah.” Y/n nervously smiled.

Arriving at the house where the party is, before opening the door, Y/n was tying her hair up, however, Paige quickly got the hair tie not letting Y/n put up her hair. “I prefer your hair down, and I will keep this scrunchie of yours” Paige placed her hand in the scrunchie. Y/n scoffed, “You better not lose it.” she said firmly, as it was her favourite tie, given to her by her sister Nika.

Paige nodded, and got her phone out. She opened her camera and asked Y/n to pose for her. Y/n placed her hands on her cheeks, and the camera took a shot. Paige smiled and made it her wallpaper. “Mmm. Smart. Let me take a picture of you too.” Y/n laughed while Paige was giving her poses for the wallpaper.

After the wallpapers had been set, they went on and headed inside the house. The whole UCONN women’s basketball team was there and approached Paige. “Paige! Thought you wouldn’t come! Oh! Who’s this pretty girl?” KK Arnold was the first to approach Y/n, the rest following and stating their hi(s) and hello(s). “Guys, I want you all to meet my girlfriend.” Paige announced loudly enough for the whole house to hear.

“No way! You bagged her?” Azzi jokes, which made Y/n laugh. “You are so so pretty!” Ice complimented Y/n. After a while, Y/n slowly got the hang of being the “center of attention.” The UCONN team made her feel like home, giving her stories about Paige and making funny jokes.

“Okay, enough of us talking. What made you like Paige?” Q asked Y/n. Y/n, however, did not know how to answer that, only knowing the person for only a week. “Well, she has this side of hers that she only showed me. Paige is really hard working, compassionate, funny, and a whole lot more.” Y/n did not completely lie. She and Paige had an agreement only they knew, and referring to the posters and sports posts, she knew Paige had an excellent personality especially on the court.

Paige smiled when Y/n was speaking, however, her eye saw the figure of Mia Clarkson, who signalled her to follow her to the bathroom.

“What do you need?” Paige asked Mia, closing the bathroom door. “Why are you with her?” Mia asked, clearly showing that she was jealous and mad. “That is none of your business” Paige said firmly, looking at herself in front of the mirror.

“Oh what’s this?” Mia then acknowledged the scrunchie being worn by Paige, and got it out of her hand. Mia then fixed her hair, and asked Paige if she “looked good tonight.” “You always look good.” The blonde slightly smiled. Mia smirked, and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Paige alone.

Paige did not know why she did not make a move, it was clear that Mia was already showing signs of interest again. She didn’t feel the “spark” she was hoping to feel, maybe it was just that it’s too early into the agreement, and Paige always reaches for that sense of accomplishment, which she wouldn’t have felt if she already made a move on Mia.

The blonde just shrugged it off, and headed back to her team and Y/n.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wlw #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader

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