#same pic but with the white hair instead

[olgipolgi]

𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷

𝓑𝔂 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 Minors DNI!)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐲! 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ── Sooo I originally uploaded this on my BBY boy’s birthday to celebrate it because he means the WORLD to me bro frrr. But it accidentally got deleted and I only found out about it after a month or sth sooo yeah…poop happens. Anyways enjoy my naugthy boii smut tysm ✨

Lover boy Yuuta who couldn’t forget you after your little escapade together. You were both on vacation and only had a few days left before you had to say your goodbyes and go back to your respective cities.

He gave you the warmest hug the day you two parted ways. His cute straw hat and the fluttering pink on his cheeks had you missing him already.

‘See you soon,’ His much bigger hand held yours. long fingers locking with your smaller ones. ‘Talk to me when you get home.’

You felt frustrated. Having to leave Yuu just a few days after meeting him…

He had the biggest warmest heart and the thickest cock to match, ate your ass like a god till you almost ripped his bedsheets and muttered the sweetest words when he cuddled you on the late summer nights..

‘come visit me soon. I’ll be missing you too…’ You planted a peck on the tip of his nose and smiled, eyes still lustfully glued to his dark ones.

Lover boy Yuuta who kept in close touch with you ever since then. He got more lovesick by the day and hornier by the night. Calling you more often and loosening you up mid convo. Asking you what you’re wearing, the fabric and color of your underwear. Teasing you about the nights he made you cum in tears, reminiding you of how much you whined and moaned, clawed at his back muscles and squirted on his stomach. The sound of his voice talking you into touching yourself, making you crave him more as he does the same. Your whines of dissatisfaction at his absence merge with his deep groans and hearty giggles.

‘Come on sweets…nghh don’t leave me hanging here…cum with me, sweetheart’ He strokes himself faster, making your shaky hands rub your heat.

‘Yuuta…need you so much, my pussy wants you so bad’

‘We’ll be together soon, promise you babe’

He cums and groans low, cursing at how bad he wishes it was your pussy lips squeezing him instead of his own hand.

Lover boy Yuuta who got so embarassed about the idea of sending you nude pictures of him. Not only is he self conscious about how big his cock is but he still wants his girlfriend to see him all soft and vulnerable for her.

You received a pic from him late at night. White towel wrapped around his waist, barely covering past his V-line. He took the pic with a cheeky smirk, big doe eyes shiny and his hair a slightly moist from the shower he just took.

Lover boy Yuuta who’s finally arrived at your homecity, waiting impatiently . You noticed him in his grey sweatpants, waving at you and holding his arms wide open for you to finally fall into. He pulled you in the tightest hug and squeezed your body closer to his, gently stroking your hair.

Lover boy Yuuta who’s been horny for days. His balls all tight and heavy, waiting to be milked dry inside your pretty pussy. He tried to be a sweetheart and give it some time before fucks you dumb, but you couldn’t help waiting and pulled him into your room, dropping to your knees in front of him and pulling his sweatpants lower.

Lover boy Yuuta who’s fuzzy and flustered, he makes sure that he’s not pressuring you into anything like the sweetheart he is, but your eyes bubbling with hearts and your glossy lips planting the wettest kisses on his cock soon shut him up.

‘Oh babe, you feel so good..’

He ruffles your hair and buries your face into his crotch. ‘Do something to me, my balls are so heavy for you, princess.’

Your nose digs into his trimmed pubes. He smells so good and feels so big in your little mouth. Your throat struggles to make space for him but you still take him in. Your teary eyes glance up at him, giving him a lovedrunk stare, fondling his balls softly in your palms.

You suck him off for hours, laying your head on his thigh and licking the sticky precum off his tip, eyes locked with his and nails gently teasing his gorgeous balls.

‘How you doing luv? feels good?’

He shivers and squeezes his thighs around your head, his length twitching and mouth half open in feverish desire.

‘D-Don’t wanna cum yet…wanna do it in your tight pussy’

‘She missed you too..come fuck her like you hate her’

He kisses you senseless, groping your ass and rubbing it back and forth on his hard-on. His moans vibrate against your lips, getting deeper and louder as does his frustration.

Lover boy Yuuta who’s fucking you stupid. His balls are bouncing up and down, bumping on your tiny asshole and making you cry in pleasure.

He keeps you still with one arm and pulls your hair back with the other, having your tits rub against his face.

He smacks your ass on repeat, his large hands leaving their imprint on your skin as you mewl for him to let you cum.

‘Mmmh gosh…fuck my brains out Yuuta!, Make me pregnant’ He holds your face and sticking his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes and lustfully hammering into your tummy.

‘F-fuck..your pussy drives me crazy…Don’t ever leave me..luv you so much, agh’

He holds your hands and props you on his lap, sloppily making out with you and pawing all over your skin. He suckles you tongue and licks your lips till they’re all puffy and soft. The blush on his cheeks never tones down, and his glistening eyes turned teary from so much arousal. His hips rutted faster, raspy moans almost supressing yours.

Lover boy Yuuta who’s covered you all over with his sticky cum; inside your pussy, your butt, your tummy, your face, spurting on your breasts and sucking your nipples till they turned sore and raw.

You skins felt so warm and sticky, gross fluids and sweat covering you both and room getting all hot and foggy from your gasps and moans. He tired you up so much you cried on his dick, begging him to give you some rest as your knees shaked senseless.

‘It’s okay sweetie, bear with me a little more…nghh missed you so much, my big cock still wants more, yeah?’

‘Mmmh Yuuta, hic…p-please wait a sec…it hurtss’

‘Shh, you’re my big girl…You’re strong enough to take me, nice and good’

He cums inside you once more, plugging your cunt with his middle finger and planting a playful kiss on your cheek.

‘Thank you, Yuuta..’ You smile at him softly. You stare at him, all amourous and melty. Tummy so full with your boyfriend’s cum and arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace.

He holds you tight and rests his head on yours.

‘You’ll thank me more tomorrow, sweet cheeks.’

[stvrkolya]

BUNGO STRAY DOGS — putting flowers in their hair

Genre: fluff, com?

Characters: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Poe, Nikolai, Fyodor

“One second! I said no moving!” You said placing flowers on Dazai's head on a boring sunday.

You were almost done but your boyfriend would keep wiggling purposely to annoy you. God knows how long you were there with him, decorating his scalp.

He didn't really care about the end result. All he knew was he was enjoying that little moment with you. It made him relax so well.

Soon enough you were done. There he was with little sunflowers all over his head. Admiring him with a chuckle, you handed him a mirror.

His eyes sparkled and he was about to touch his hair but you slapped it away lightly.

“Don't.” You frowned and strictly warned. Afterall you didn't want your masterpiece to get ruined.

He looked like fresh coffee with decoration of sunflower.

“I look prettier than the flowers in the vase! Thankyou my love.” He turned to look at you with a sweet smile that made your day.

“Hm, maybe I should keep you in that vase instead.” You joked, kissing the top of his head.

“The hell are you doing? It's been fifteen minutes already!” Chuuya groaned in boredom. You had made him sit in the same position for so long. His poor neck is hurting real bad.

“Almost done!” You quickly said. And took another ten minutes

“Finally done!” You cheered as you placed the last white daisy flower in the small braids you made.

“Cool cool now let me see.” He snatched the mirror from your hand which you were about to give him.

“THIS is what you were doing from so long?” He looked at you unbelievably.

“Cute, right?” You chuckled. You swear you could see his face turned a shade of crimson red.

“When can I get rid of these?” He asked, maintaining his tough guy personality.

“After a photo” You removed your phone to click a pic and he quickly started covering the camera.

“Y/n no-”

Ranpo wouldn't sit still if you hadn't given him his favourite candies.

He basically gave zero fucks about what you were doing with his hair. He couldn't care less as long as he got his favourite candy to suck.

You placed peach blossom flowers on his hair along with some small ribbons and Oh you swear to God he looked so coquette. Very demure, very mindful.

“Aha I'm done.” You clapped a little for yourself for how cutesy he looked. Very ladylike.

“Are those ribbons eatable? They look very strawberry flavoured.” And that was his first question.

“What? No-” You rolled your eyes as your pink princess didn't listen and bite one anyways only to throw you a disgusted look.

“This... isn't strawberry flavoured.”

“Yeah ofcourse Mr. Genius detective, those aren't for eating.”

“F-Flowers? On m-my hair? Why? I mean, it's my honour my sweet beloved, but why? What's the occasion?” Poe malfunctioned with redness.

“Nothing special. I just want to.” You smiled and made him sit.

The whole decoration process, he sat still like a doll to the point you had to ask if he's even breathing or not. The thing was he was kinda nervous to move even a bit and ruin your decorations.

You had to remind him to relax a little.

You were finally done putting small sunflowers on his head and yeah, he gave the perfect sunshine energy.

He looked at the mirror infront of him and smiled, his heart smiled more from joy though. He was just happy that you did all that pretty stuff on his head.

“I'll keep them in my hair as long as I can.” He said in pure bliss.

(Karl climbed up later and started chewing on your small flowers)

Nikolai was the one who insisted on putting flowers in his head.

One day he just suddenly comes home after work with roses that he painted red.

“Love, Look! I bought flowers! Can you place them in my hair? Please please pleaseeee”

How could you say no to that puppy face?

You unbraided his long braid and placed the rose flower crown on his hair that you made of the roses he gave you. And oh how angelic he looked.

Looking at your reaction, he chuckled.

“I know my beauty is jaw-dropping, Dove. Close your mouth or a fly's gonna settle there.” He said giggling and closing your mouth.

“Fedya, Can I place these lilies on your hair?” You asked, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible.

“Hm? Why?” Fyodor asked, not even lifting his eyes off his computer screen. The workaholic rat didn't really care about it.

“I uh... Just want to? Pretty please?” You pouted slightly.

“Fine I guess, If that's what will make you leave me alone for work later.” He sighed.

You started doing his bun and then placed lilies on his head. You had gender envy from this guy for five minutes straight. How can someone look so beautiful by being a rat species at this point than you?

“Seems like you're done Myshka.” He said, still not lifting his eyes off the screen.

“You look pretty.” You commented silently.

“Is that so? I suppose I'll keep my hair like this the whole day then.” He slightly looked at you and smiled a little that made you flushed as hell.

»»————୨୧————««

[slasherscream]

Wash Day

pairing:  jordan li x fem black!reader

"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.

Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."

You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."

"Brat." You laugh.

How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.

"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)

"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.

Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.

"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.

"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.

"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.

"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.

"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.

You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.

"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"

"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"

"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.

"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.

"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.

"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"

"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.

"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.

"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.

"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."

The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.

"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.

Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.

"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."

"I'm looking at them."

"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"

"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"

"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"

Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"

"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."

Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"

"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.

But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.

"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.

"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.

"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.

"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.

"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.

"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.

"My hair grew!"

"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.

"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."

"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.

"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.

"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"

"Got it."

Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.

"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.

You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.

"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.

You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"

"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.

She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."

"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.

"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.

"Who says it will take an hour?"

"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.

You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."

"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.

"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.

Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."

You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.

Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."

Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.

"What's so funny?"

"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.

"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.

"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."

He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.

"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.

"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."

Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.

"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.

"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.

"Is the city gonna let her?"

"No."

"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.

"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.

A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.

"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.

"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"

"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.

You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.

("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"

"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."

So that had decided that.)

"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"

"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.

They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.

"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.

You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"

"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.

"The back of my head? The head on my body?"

"Should I start over?"

"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"

"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."

"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."

"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"

"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.

"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.

"I said they were good!" You protest.

"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.

You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.

"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.

You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.

He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.

"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.

"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.

"Speak for yourself."

"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."

"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"

"Pussy?"

"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"

"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.

"No."

"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.

"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.

"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.

"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.

As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.

Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.

"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.

"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"

"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.

"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."

Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.

A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[xqllin]

winter warmth ¬ sakura haruka wc ~ 1.6k

why you decided it was a fun idea to play in the park when it's dark out while it's snowing, sakura cannot give an answer

you're both walking to the neighbourhood park, a skip in your step as you ramble on about this amazing cafe you visited the other day

he walks behind you, acting as the eyes on the back of your head in case anything happens, which even if it sounds unlikely, sakura isn't used to letting his guard down

as he's keeping an eye on you, his hand unconsciously reaches out to brush off the specks of white glittering in your hair, your face riddled with surprise because sakura doesn't usually initiate affection

you laugh lightly as sakura tries to come up with an excuse, his hand previously on your head now covering his flushed face, and you slow down a bit to match sakura's pace hoping to do the same

you lean closer to him, joking about how the snow blends in with one half of his hair and how you can't see where the snow is falling on, so you start ruffling his hair to shake off all the snow, sakura proceeds to swat at your hand like a cat who doesn't like to be pet

once you reach the park you squeal excitedly about how much the snow had piled up, whipping your head around to face sakura so you could suggest making some snow angels

though he isn't too keen on getting his clothes damp, he begrudgingly trudges to the open space of the park, claiming he's only doing this because he doesn't want to see you sulk and take away your smile

he spots you giggling on the ground, opening and closing your legs and swinging your arms in a same motion, making an 'angel' silhouette

you stand up carefully so as to not ruin your masterpiece while urging sakura to finish up his snow angel so you could snag a pic to post on your socials

however sakura wasn't as careful with his uprise, taking an unfortunate step right at the crotch of the angel so it ends up looking like it's third leg (sakura didn't get why you were laughing until he looked back from where he got up, but before he could retaliate you'd already snapped a pic and tagged him in your story)

out of the blue, you challenge him to go one round of the monkey bars in under 10 seconds, to which he rolls his eyes and scoffs, taking up the challenge because that's easy work for him

you start counting down as he grips onto the bars and swings to the next with ease, as he's halfway through you sneak up behind him and pinch his sides as a surprise

which earns you a swift kick in the chest and a shriek akin to a monkey, your butt landing on the soft snow, sakura quickly drops down and checks up on you, but you could only laugh at his panicked face, rubbing your chest to soothe the pain

"you... quit laughing..! did I hurt you?"

"that was a solid hit! but it's fine sakura, now i know how ticklish you are!"

"you just caught me off guard!"

and of course, it's not a snow day if there isn't a snowball fight

with sakura's back facing you, you take a large chunk of snow off the ground, patting it into the shape of a ball and aimed it right at him, snickering at his bewildered expression

he doesn't let you get away that easily so he flings a snowball back at you without controlling the power he put behind the shot, hitting you directly on the head

his initial concern fades away when you start laughing again and return the gesture with another snowball flying in his direction and a determined look for revenge on your face

things get a little heated when instead of propelling snow projectiles, you just start throwing snow at each other like it's water in hopes of landing a hit quicker than the other

you're running at sakura with as much snow your hand could possibly fit, with the intent of getting him back for giving you a full facial treatment of condensed water, but you unexpectedly slipped on a frozen puddle, losing your footing and full on crashing into sakura - who cushions your fall with his own body

he hears you mumble an apology as you prop yourself on your hands to support yourself and he expects you to get up, but you don't move, caging him in and he fears he may be claustrophobic under your intense gaze

it hurts to breathe, lungs constricting painfully from the cold air, and you both catch your breath on nature's bed of white

then he hears you utter, "how many times have you fell for me today haruka?", with a teasing look

you giggle at his blank expression, dual-colored eyes blinking up at you, you wipe some of the stray snow bits off his forehead with a gentle swipe

the sight before you is as beautiful as a painting, his hair splayed across the white canvas, chest rising up and down from all the exercise you both worked out, the tinge of pink dusting his face, either from the cold or his magical ability to heat up at any romantic gesture

you decide to pull more of his ability out by cupping his face, the coldness of your fingers shocks sakura out of his small trance, warming your hands even more when you bend down and plant a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose

but sakura thinks it's funny, because your record of face-planting in the snow was definitely higher than his

did it hurt when you fell from heaven as well? he internally cringes at the thought but its true because if his heart continues beating so fast that he goes into cardiac arrest and dies, you'd be the angel he'd see upon waking in heaven

the way the street lamp overhead illuminates the back of your head feels reminiscent to a halo, but he may just be seeing things, his pupils might as well have morphed into the shape of hearts and affected his vision

you smile to yourself as you finally get up off him, stretching your hand out to pull sakura up, who's still in his little fantasy to which you couldn't resist the urge to poke his cheek, snapping him back to reality and starting your journey back home together with sakura

the walk back was quiet, only the sound of blowing air coming from you warming your stiff hands, numb from the coldness, and you smile warmly when he wordlessly snakes his hand around to hold yours

his mind travels back to your question that he had failed to answer in the heat of the moment (he hopes you weren't put off by his silence), if he were being honest, he's fallen for you so many times he's lost count

just this morning when you sent him a good morning text with a selfie of your sleep-heavy face attached; when you showed up at his classroom today unexpectedly just to bring him your homemade lunch; all your unique voice quirks when you were rambling to him about cake and the weather and a manga you read recently that you think he'd enjoy

once you arrive at your doorstep, you turn around to say your goodbyes for today and promises for tomorrow, squeezing your intertwined hands tightly before pulling away

sakura gulps, hooking his finger around your pinky before you could pull away completely, causing you to look at him with your body half-facing the door with an expectant expression

"to answer your question from before, there's.. too many times i don't have a straight answer, but..", you hold his hands fully now, "you're the only person i fell for in my lifetime."

he feels a sense of relief when you look at him with a smile so bright it puts the sun to shame, perhaps you're the only sun he needs

his feet are glued to the ground when you move towards him, his eyes hyper-fixating on your every move, how you still hold onto his hand that may or may not have been shaking from his nerves

because why was admitting these feelings like stripping himself bare naked? but with you, it's like being offered a blanket for coverage so he could get used to feeling so exposed

it's as if fireworks were being set off in sakura's stomach when you lean in to give him a kiss and he fears for the future if something as measly as a peck on the cheek can get such a rise out of him

a lone snowflake falls right between your lips and his cheek, melting under the touch, almost like a seal marking the end of tonight, hiding away the events that happened between the both of you under blankets of snow

the kiss is light, barely ghosting his skin, and you linger a moment longer before moving away, he has to stop himself from chasing for more

once the door shuts, sakura makes his way back home, palm closing in itself so he keeps your warmth in his grasp

sakura reaches the door to his home, about to step in to the cold loneliness of his abode, almost like telepathy, it's as if you sensed how much sakura was missing you

a text comes through his phone (with a special ringtone so he never misses your messages), you're asking if he's got home safely, along with a goodnight wish and an exaggerated smooching sound as sakura plays the voicemail

sakura smiles, like a fool, a fool in love - that's what he is

notes ~ not me starting this in the middle of summer and procrastinating until now.. hopefully I'll be back on a writing roll soon :(( i don't like the ending but this has been in my drafts far too long

[ferrstappen]

Can I request petty jealous charles? He’s just quietly stewing in his anguish. I think it’s be funny if someone that he looks up to, like a musician or something, was flirting with his gf and this really upsets him. And he acts petty for a few days

a/n: sorry for the delay babeeee :( but here it issss. also this features Bad bunny bc I saw the pics of him arriving in Monaco and idk got the inspo. also we're going to pretend the last music challenge takes place after Monaco.

titi we don't care l Charles Leclerc

All eyes were on Monaco, and with good reason.

Engines roaring, cameras flashing, boat traffic (if that's a thing), Hollywood making their way from Cannes to the Principality, spotting old money meters away, most of them trying to get a word with Charles.

It was fine in the beginning, this wasn't the first Monaco GP you attended, but after the first free practice ended and Charles was grabbed from right to left, the Ferrari hospitality grabbing most of the attention of wealthy people, whispering how F1 was less exclusive by the day, too popularized, lousy celebrities getting an invite and they’d probably be present for Indy 500 and Le Mans. Shameful.

The same people were examining you, eyeing the “simple” Trina Turk dress and Bimba & Lola bag, gifted by Isa on your birthday, hanging from your arm, all before Charles PR manager approached to tell you he, the home hero, wouldn't be available until practices were over, too many press and meetings in between.

Then, a man with a glass of wine sat down next to you, telling you it was fucked up they wouldn't let the drivers prepare for what they were supposed to do, which was driving. Esta bien cabrón, those were his exact words.

He introduced himself as Benito, of course you knew him as Bad Bunny, his songs being everywhere and wasn't he dating Kendall Jenner?

He kept you entertained, bad mouthing the snotty people surrounding, stopping the conversation to greet people who approached him. Isa joined soon after, also shaking her head at the fact Carlos and Charles would have to spend almost the entire day worrying about media instead of resting and discussing strategies with the team for Sunday.

Conversation was easy, barely noticing the hospitality getting a bit more crowded, louder. It was the WhatsApp group with your girlfriends that got your attention, attaching pictures and asking what was going on between you and Bad Bunny. What?

Of course, Twitter was full of you laughing at something he said or before he pointed something funny or imitated a rich person making conversation on how quiet luxury was a trend now and how it wasn't fair for them, fucking Succession.

Suddenly, someone grabbed your waist from behind, making you jump because the only person allowed to grab you like that was supposed to be around somewhere, being interviewed or filming content, but you were wrong, a big grin appearing at the sight of Charles, full white and red, overall hanging on his waist and white Ferrari cap, hair fluffy from the heat and running his fingers through it.

"Bebé, I thought you'd be busy all the day," You kissed his lips, subtly squeezing his waist through the suit.

Yes, he was supposed to be busy until the day was over and you could head back home, but in-between interviews Charles checked his phone to the dismay of every PR worker in Ferrari, but his Twitter was filled with mentions of pictures. First they were pictures of you alone in the hospitality, Charles smiled knowing you were probably bored but stayed so he wouldn't be alone, but...

user1: Not Bad Bunny shooting his shot at Leclerc's girl 💀

user2: BENITO GET AWAY she's ms leclerc!!!11!

user3: damn, Charles Leclerc getting screwed by Ferrari and his girlfriend

user4: (y/n)'s probably bored af, Isa got to Monaco a couple of minutes ago and she's talking with Benito, big deal leave her alone she's there for Charles.

A strange feeling brewed in his stomach, he instantly knew he was jealous. Did he have a good reason? No, he trusted you and the relationship with his life, but he was obviously and painfully aware people wanted you; your good nature, gorgeous features, bright smile, perfectly shaped boobs... yes, it didn't sound fair when he left a trails of broken hearts and loving eyes everywhere he went, people being interested in F1 just because of his looks, but that was purely platonic, they didn't dare to make a move, but your case was different, he had seen with his own eyes how men tried to make their move right in front of him, he even made sure you always wore the gold necklace with a charm engraved with CL16 was visible.

Carlos, being part of the drivers' gossip network, eyed Charles' screen, whistling in a worried manner, telling him to be careful or he'd be listening to Bad Bunny songs about (y/n) on the radio.

"You know, there's pictures of Isa as well, look," Charles pointed out, annoyed by the teasing, but Carlos playfully dismissed him. "Hey, sorry but I have to get to the hospitality, I'm very overwhelmed and I need to see my girlfriend," Charles half lied; he wanted to see you, but just to let the second most streamed artist on Spotify know you were very loved and appreciated, and completely off limits.

Which takes him to the Ferrari hospitality.

"They gave us a couple of minutes before it's time for the last meeting," Charles tensed when noticing people were staring at him. "Why don't you wait at our lounge, bebé? It’s less crowded, Isa is there, Lorenzo and mum should be getting there soon,” he said in a hushed tone, but loud enough for the other man to hear. You nodded, getting up and collecting the small Bimba & Lola bag with some of the multiple passes and everything hanging from it.

"Oh, bebé, sorry. This is Benito, he was keeping me entertained," It was a bizarre situation, honestly, presenting a world-known singer to your boyfriend like he was a friend.

Charles squeezed your waist a bit tighter, shaking hands with the native from Puerto Rico. They exchanged a couple of words before someone approached the singer, making it easier for you to leave.

Charles was holding your hand a bit tighter than usual, maybe he was being protecting knowing people were watching every move. you asked him how the car felt, but he didn't give a real answer, just making a sound of approval.

That attitude carried on during the entire weekend, you thought it was the pressure of being home, past mistakes and bad luck haunting him. it ended when he crossed the finish line in first place, kissing you with tears on his eyes, relishing on being the home hero.

But two days later, he still had moments where he held his head a little taller, short answers and pretending he didn't hear you.

Charles knew he was being ridiculous, his fists tightening when some radio played a Bad Bunny song, even when one of them was voluntarily added by himself on a playlist, he had to take a deep breath. Irrational and disgusting behavior if you ask Charles, but he couldn't stop it. Not even when he saw you trying to hide the purple marks appearing on your hips.

He noticed your side of the bed dipped and light turned off, his back facing you as he pretended to be asleep, ignoring your soft chuckles. he didn't even flinch when your arms wrapped around his waist, placing your leg over his and loudly kissing his cheek.

"You are so cute when you're jealous," you told him, leaving another loud kiss, this time on his back.

"I'm not jealous!" He lied with a high-pitched voice, still not facing you.

"I know you are, but it's okay, it comes with having a girlfriend as incredible as me, you know?" This time Charles laughed, turning around and now placing his arms around your waist as yours moved to his neck.

"Shut up, he was flirting with you!" Charles argued.

"He was not! He actually saved me from a lot of creeps asking my name and whether I was free to grab a glass of wine or whatever,"

Charles knew that was the truth, he had witnessed it and was common talk between the drivers how their girlfriends and sisters were often approached by older men with not so good intentions.

Knowing he had no way to defend himself, he rolled his eyes at your giggles when your lips met his, but admiring him when he rolled on top of you, running your thumb through his cheeks.

[dat-town]

another social casualty

Characters: golden boy!Jaehyun & loner!female reader

Setting & genre: hurt/comfort, coming of age, high school au

Summary: One fears not being lovable, the other fears losing people. Two lonely souls find each other.

Warnings: mentions of academic, parental and peer pressure, loneliness, nosebleed, past friendship fallout, abandonment issues (MC’s father left), anxiety, medication, crying, the romance is very slow burn, it’s more like finding safe haven in each other?

Words: 8.8k

Author’s note: title from the 5SOS song, though i listened to a whole lot of Keshi and Conan Gray while writing this. heavily inspired by Jaehyun’s crazy academic background and how he said he was in a dark place before joining KOZ, i can’t find the entire list of his school activities but here and here are some. header pic of Jaehyun is from starry-eyed

@restlessmaknae you chose this as the one you would be most interested in from my list, so i hope it doesn’t disappoint!

i did not expect to finish this before 2024 ends but here it is. wishing all my readers a 2025 spent with joy, in health, happy new year! <3

→ BEFORE

Myung Jaehyun is a people pleaser.

You can tell because you used to be the same. Not anymore. Still, you can’t look away because it’s like watching a train wreck. Terrible because you can see the cracks in his personality but intriguing at the same time. Just how much a person can mold their own material to make them fit into pre-shaped places? How can they make themselves smaller if there’s not enough space for them? It’s rush hour metro effect: one can always bend and push and press enough to squeeze inside, to turn into something they are not. This is how you become part of the machine.

You have been there. Now you prefer to be an observer. Now you don’t fake laughs over things you don’t find funny just to not hurt somebody else’s feelings. Now you rather sit alone at the canteen during lunch hour instead of pretending to be somebody you’re not just to be welcomed at a popular table. Now you prefer to be invisible rather than seen and judged. Ghosts have it better off in high schools.

Myung Jaehyun doesn’t seem to know that yet.

The first time you really saw Jaehyun, the principal called him in front of the lined up classes during the school year starting ceremony and pinned a badge with the title ‘school president’ onto his uniform. You looked up from the creases of the back of your classmate’s white shirt in front of you to see a boy on the podium as rigid as the pole with the Korean flag. His dress jacket was perfectly ironed, necktie tucked in, no wrinkles in his entire attire. Not even a piece of hair was out of place. He stood there, in front of the entire school, tall and proud, as an example just like the principal called him while listing all his achievements. He was not only a straight A student, a member of the student council and the vice president of the Economics and Business Management club but he also proved his worth as part of the football team and representing the school in various regional writing competitions. The list went on and on, Principal Lee was really emphasizing just how much he wanted to have more students like him, dedicated and hard-working ones, at the school, but you tuned out everything after the first few sentences. Myung Jaehyun caught your attention not because of the way the silver badge shone on his chest or the way he kept his eyes strictly on one point ahead, mouth pressed in a firm line, but rather because of the way his fingers twitched by his sides. When you looked closer, you could tell he was picking at the skin around his nail, a nervous habit. Everything about him was proper and perfect except that.

Ever since then it hasn’t been hard to notice him. Although you don’t share a class, with all his clubs and one too many responsibilities he is kind of everywhere. He’s announcing details about the upcoming annual trip on the school radio, he’s on the top of the list that’s pinned in the school hall about the midterm results, he’s holding a trophy in a photograph for the vitrine in the hallways that lead up to the school gym.

It’s not like you’re watching him. There’s nothing weird or stalkerish in it. You’re not even like the girls who whisper scream his name when he walks by and wonder if they should ask him out. You just notice him and observe. You keep looking for flaws in his picture perfect demeanor. You look for signs that there’s a human beneath that machine he seems to be. You just watch him from a distance and you’re content with that.

Until he notices you too.

→ SEPTEMBER

It happens on a Friday evening, early in the new term, long after the last classes ended, so the school library is pretty empty. You don’t like crowds, so you prefer to visit when most students have already retreated. This way you can also avoid running into people you don’t want to meet. You greet the tired librarian by the door with a bow and with your bag hanging from your shoulder, you head straight towards the Literature section because of an essay you have to write. It isn’t due for a week more but you don’t like to leave things to the last minute purely because of the stress that rushing brings. You trace the spines of the books with your fingertip as you walk past them, searching for a specific author and when you find it, you grab it from the shelf. You press it to your chest and slip out on the other side of the aisle, ready to head back towards the librarian’s desk when you hear a sniffle. You look up, towards the source of the sound and see him.

Myung Jaehyun is sitting at one of the tables in the back, hunched over text books. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and it comes back red. It’s vivid like a blaring warning sign and your gut twists as the school president scrambles to hold off his nosebleed before it would get everywhere. His movements seem frantic, almost panicked as he fumbles with the zipper of his backpack but he freezes in spot when he notices you watching. With two fingers pressing his nose, blood splotches on the sleeve of his immaculate white shirt, he stares at you wide eyed, just as frozen in place as you are.

You’re startled. The moment your eyes meet, you feel his gaze burn. You cast your eyes down and take a step backwards, ready to leave and pretend nothing happened. Because nothing did. But then you halt, thinking better off it. You swiftly reach into the front pocket of your bag and take out a small packet of tissues and a piece of chocolate you always keep with yourself in case your blood sugar dipped. You can feel Myung Jaehyun’s eyes on you the entire time you walk up to his desk. Realistically speaking it doesn’t take more than a few seconds, it is six steps at max but it feels longer with his scalding attention on you. You’re not used to being watched, you’re a wallflower after all.

You put the tissues and chocolate down on the table and turn around to leave. You don’t wait for the boy’s reaction. You don’t even look at him. You don’t stop when he calls after you. You leave as quickly as you came. Blend back into the shadows where you like to be.

Myung Jaehyun doesn’t let you though.

Next week when you leave your classroom on Tuesday, he’s out in the corridor in front of the door, waiting. For you. There’s not much guessing about it since you are the last one in the class, everybody else having somewhere to run off and here you are, taking your time. You only falter for a moment when you step over the threshold and take in the sight of the school president in all his glory. Then you look down onto the laminated floor and turn down the corridor.

Jaehyun pushes himself away from the window frame he has been leaning against so far and catches up to you fast.

“Wait,” he calls after you, his voice is an echo of the sound he made back in the library.

Thinking back on it twists your gut uncomfortably as you remember the blood and how the boy looked at you like he never received kindness from a stranger. Much to your dislike, you slow your steps and eventually come to a halt when you realize you can’t just brush off the boy’s presence, so you decide it’s better to get over with. You look up at him questioningly, nails digging into the straps of your backpack as you wait.

“Can we talk?” Jaehyun asks, polite like anytime you heard him talk and he looks relieved that he doesn’t have to chase you down. His tie is a little crooked today but other than that there’s nothing out of place about him. Although from this close you see the dark circles under his eyes and can’t help but wonder how much he slept last night and the night before that. He has always had the best score but it didn’t stop him from running himself thin last week if the nosebleed is anything to go by.

“If you’re worried about what happened in the library, don’t. I won’t tell anybody,” you shrug because why would you? He certainly isn’t the first senior who drives himself over his own breaking point. You had heard stories about hospital IV dip visits, students fainting after handing in their papers and ‘vitamins’ passed around before exam week. The stakes are high. The competition to get into a Seoul university, especially a SKY one is cutthroat and you know that the school president aims for that. Everybody expects him to do so. With his list of achievements and history of high scores, it sounds viable. But at what price?

“It’s not that,” Myung Jaehyun protests but despite his words his shoulders visibly go slack with relief. You can tell that he cares a lot about his reputation and it sure would have left a stain if people knew that the all so perfect school president was human too, bleeding from academic pressure right on his homework. You grimace at the thought.

“You don’t owe me anything either,” you clarify because you never expected anything in return for being a decent human being and you don’t know what else he could possibly want.

“But…”

“Really. Just forget it,” you sigh, tired of arguing already. The boy looks conflicted under his wavy fringe, almost like a puppy before schooling his expression and clearing his throat.

“Thanks anyway,” he says before stepping out of your way, so you can keep going and you do. You move on with your life, watching from the sidelines as he receives praise for his participation in a regional essay contest and when the football team returns with another hard earned win.

Days pass in a blur. Like they always did. Just another day to get through. Just another week. Just another term. Gosh, you can’t wait for high school to end. You have had enough of seeing these people.

On Monday you make eye contact with Mijoo when you come out of a stall in the girls’ bathroom and she’s in front of the mirror fixing her already perfect makeup. She used to not do that, care too much about her appearance, not before she befriended Kim Soyeon. Now you awkwardly hold eye contact for one, two, three seconds and then she looks away. You’re the one who walks away just like you did before but it doesn’t make it easier. There’s something hollow and painful in your chest, still missing something you once had.

Three days later your mother asks you about school while you help clean the tables at the café. She asks about the midterms and if you’re still friends with ‘that ponytail girl’. The reminder feels like a slap and your throat closes up.

On Friday you skip out on lunch hour and spend it lying on the bench in the yard, staring at the sky. You’re caught like that when it starts to rain. You watch it through spread fingers as the first raindrops fall then close your eyes and smile. You have always loved the rain and even though it’s impractical to get soaked in the middle of the school day, you can always change into your PE clothes, you reason.

But then the rain stops. You can’t feel the cold drops on you even though you hear the rhythmic sound of them hitting the ground and you pry your eyes open only to see Myung Jaehyun standing above you with an umbrella held over you. You shoot up into a sitting position quickly, then stand up and smooth down your uniform. Not necessarily because you’re embarrassed but because you hate being a burden to others and while you didn’t ask for his help, based on his persistence from last time you know he wouldn’t have just left no matter what you told him. Hell, he even moves to shrug off his jacket before you stop him.

“It’s okay. I have a change of clothes inside,” you explain but there’s no arguing with the school president about walking you inside. You can tell he wants to ask you something but you don’t give him a chance to. Once you are between four walls, you mutter out a polite thanks and then head to your classroom.

→ OCTOBER

On another Friday evening, Myung Jaehyun asks if he can sit at your table in the near empty library. You don’t understand what he’s getting at, so you just shrug, still focused on your homework. When you steal a glance at the boy on the other side of the table, you see him go over pages of ink writing, highlighting certain parts. There’s torn and nipped skin around his thumb nail. You turn back to your workbook before he could notice that you were looking.

“Are you coming to the school trip?” The boy asks when half an hour later you start packing your bag. The question surprises you because he shouldn’t care. He doesn’t even know you.

“No,” you answer curtly, not going into details. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve always been a homebody and you don’t enjoy social interactions, especially not school-related ones. But Jaehyun is stubborn and curious a bit too much.

“Why not?” He asks and you sigh.

“It’s not really my scene. I don’t want to spend more time around my classmates than I have to,” you shrug nonchalantly but there must be something in your voice that gives you away because the boy furrows his brows in worry.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” you lie or well, not really. Technically, nothing really happened regarding the trip. But if things were like they were a year ago, you would be excited about going with Mijoo. Things just change, people too. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“You’re always alone,” Jaehyun says in a quiet voice in the library’s dead still silence. He says it like it was something you should be sad about. A part of you wants to question whether he had been stalking you to notice that but that would have been rich coming from you who had been watching him from afar all along, so you decide against it.

“Yes. I prefer that way,” you tell him instead and it’s true. Better alone than with fake friends. Yet, the boy can’t even seem to fathom the idea.

“You can’t mean that,” he mutters with widened eyes and it leaves you with something bitter in your gut.

Can’t you? Just because a pretty boy runs himself thin to get everybody’s appreciation, can’t you want some peace of mind alone?

“Not everybody needs constant validation,” you snap at him and it comes out harsher than intended. You can see the hurt mirrored in Jaehyun’s eyes but you don’t let yourself linger on it as you hoist your bag up to your shoulder. “Don’t make me your charity case.”

“I don’t… I’m not…”

The always so eloquent Myung Jaehyun seems speechless now but you don’t wait for him to figure out what he wants to deny more, whether he can at all. You leave him there at the table. You’re good at that: leaving. Better be the one doing it than being the one left behind.

It’s been four years since you last saw your father. A part of you misses him, or at least the idea of a reliable father. At first you had been angry at your mother for giving him an ultimatum but then realized that at the end of the day, it wasn’t her fault. It was your father who chose his gambling addiction over you. So maybe you were better off without him.

It was around that time too when you realized that being left short on money limited your future opportunities. Not that you ever dreamed about going abroad or attending the best schools in the country. You didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life and it sounded stupid, spending so much money on education just because everybody else was doing it around you. You started helping out your mom at the café then too, so she wouldn’t have to hire another part-timer and even though now, when things are better, your mother tries to convince you from time to time to go to after school studies instead of wiping tables and washing dishes, you don’t mind doing it. You can choose the melody coming from the old retro music box, help her come up with decoration ideas for holiday seasons and taste test new baked goods. You also take your role as her social media manager very seriously, posting aesthetic photos on Instagram periodically. It’s a simple life, a comfortable one and you’re content with it.

Your homeroom teacher not so much.

He called you into the teachers’ office to talk and you already knew why. It made it a bit easier to brace yourself for the impact of his words. Him asking about the reasons why you didn’t apply to any university. He doesn’t accept your answer and your satisfaction easily, he pushes relentlessly, telling you that you would regret it one day but you know it’s not about your future, it’s about the school’s yearly statistics. You tune out most of his speech, focusing on a loose thread of his worn knitted sweater, of the low hum of the coffee machine in the back and the printer coughing up papers. Then a familiar voice reaches your ear and you glance over the cubicle wall to see Myung Jaehyun with a punch of papers in his arm. His homeroom teacher pats him on the shoulder, proud, and for a moment you wonder how the boy feels about it.

“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Your own teacher chides and you avert your gaze back to the man but in your peripheral view, you can see the school president turn towards you just when Mr Hong clicks his tongue in annoyance. “It’s always the ones without fathers. They lack discipline.”

His words burn you deeper than expected. Him blaming something like this on your lack of father, on your mother’s loving care and hard work essentially. It makes you clench your hands in fists by your sides until you’re dismissed with a resigned promise to think about it.

When you finally leave the teachers’ office, Jaehyun waits outside. His eyes are gentle and a little sad but not pitying as he asks: 

“Are you okay?”

“I will be,” you nod because it’s not a big thing, you will get over it. Jaehyun doesn’t press and you’re grateful for that.

You don’t know when it happens and how. Letting down your guard around Myung Jaehyun of all people. It happens gradually like the trees changing their green leaves to more colourful attire. You’re very different: he cares too much about his grades and image and you care too little. He has all these big ambitions and you have none. He basks in glory in front of the school and you let out a sigh of relief when you can get over a day without anybody talking to you.

You have never stopped looking at Jaehyun though. You see him in the corridor, tall and proud and confident. You see him celebrated for his achievements on the school podium and even in the canteen surrounded by all his so-called friends and admirers. The difference is that lately he has been looking back. His gaze meets yours in the busy canteen when you sit at a table with strangers like you usually do if there’s no empty table. Your eyes meet in the hall when you arrive two minutes before the bell rings and he’s on gate duty. He never talks to you, never approaches you and it makes it easier to relax in his company, knowing that he wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to you.

He finds you in the almost empty library though, sits at your table in silence and minding his own business. He doesn’t bring up the trip again and you don’t call him out on his unusual behaviour either. You just exist in the same space, without judgement, without expectations. It’s actually quite nice.

It gives you the push to go up to him too when you see him alone at your usual table in the library on a Thursday late afternoon. As you get closer you see a brochure for Seoul National University open in front of him and that he’s reading a book about writing personal statements and study plans for college applications.

“So SNU?” You ask quietly enough not to startle him as you slip into the seat across from him.

Jaehyun looks up, his hair a bit messy, probably from running his hand through it more than usual but you like this look on him. Not being oh so perfect makes him seem more approachable.

“Yeah. What about you?” He inquires, trying to make a conversation probably because you didn’t hear the beginning of your conversation with your homeroom teacher back in the teachers’ office. You used to be nervous when people asked such loaded questions, afraid of disappointing them but once you accepted that their opinion didn’t matter more than yours, it all became easier.

“Oh, I won’t go to university.”

“What? Why?” The school president’s eyes widen in surprise as if he couldn’t even imagine that and maybe he can’t. With the competitive job market of Korea, people are made to feel like they worth nothing without a degree but you never dreamed of a white collared job, so you don’t care about that. There are many respectable ways to live without pursuing higher education.

“I don’t need a university degree to help out at my mom’s café,” you explain matter-of-factly and then out of curiosity you look up at Jaehyun, the boy who picks on his skin and works hard until he gets nosebleed, who is always number one and the teachers’ favourite yet never really smiles.  “Why? Is it really you who wants to go to SNU?”

“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be?” Jaehyun’s voice pitches higher than usual, his tone defensive. You quirk a brow, not deeming necessary to answer. It could be his parents, his teachers, the society. He must realize it too because he cast his eyes down and his fingers twitch nervously over the papers in front of him.

After a few minutes of silent shuffling around, his phone buzzes and he curses under his breath, hastily packing his bag.

“I have practice. Sorry,” he apologises, which must be a force of habit because it’s not like you agreed to hang out, nor it’s like he should be sorry for leaving early.

You just nod at him, thinking of the pressure he must have on him with all these responsibilities of which you barely see a fraction. And if you take a detour to pass by the football field on your way out of school, it’s only for you to know. You can’t help it, you get too curious for your own good sometimes and you wonder how the school president is when he plays. It’s easy to spot him when you stop to watch a bit. It’s just practice but you can see how hard he tries, how he pushes his own limits. Running and running until he can’t. He doesn’t seem to do anything half-heartedly. He’s like a flame, burning bright, but you wonder just how long could his passion last before he burns out.

“You know, for somebody who doesn't plan on going to university, you’re here a lot,” Jaehyun mentions one time after he opens his Ethics book. There’s a question hidden in his statement but you don’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

“My mom doesn’t let me help out on school days and I like it here better than in the empty house,” you admit because no matter how much you like being alone, an empty, cold house has a different feel. This way your mom also has the illusion that you have friends to hang out or study with after school and doesn’t worry about you that much. Half of the time you don’t even do homework, just grab a book and read.

Jaehyun hums and stays quiet for a while but you can tell he lingers, he hasn’t flipped a page in the book in front of him for ages. You wait patiently for him to speak up, for his gaze guiding to your features again, tentatively this time.

“Do you… really don’t mind being alone? Aren’t you like… afraid of not having anybody in your life? Of being lonely?” He questions and you aren’t sure what happened that prompted him to ask about that but you would be the last person to judge him after voicing out fears so human.

“I’m more afraid of losing myself while trying to make myself digestible for others and I don’t like the idea of people leaving. It’s easier to avoid that if you don’t get attached,” you answer the best you can without sharing too many details, too many scars of your past. It already feels a bit too much, a bit too personal. You aren’t exactly friends after all. He’s just a boy who sometimes sits at your table. It’s not like you would see each other after graduation, it’s safe.

“Digestible?” Jaehyun mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Everybody does it. They pretend to be somebody they aren’t, so others would like them,” you explain but the boy shakes his head, not exactly in disagreement though.

“You make it sound so bad. But what’s so wrong about only showing your better sides to other people?”

You don’t answer right away. Just look into Jaehyun’s eyes, letting your gaze linger over his dark circles and the bitten ends of his nails. You sigh, quietly.

“Isn’t it tiring? Being in somebody else’s skin just to be liked?”

Jaehyun could argue that it’s still his skin, that it’s just a better version of himself and you would let him. If he wanted to hide his flaws and imperfections, he has every right and you wouldn’t tell him not to do it because you know how scary it’s to bare yourself in front of somebody else and it’s not like you’re not hiding parts of yourself, it’s just easier to not have anybody around you close enough to see them.

→ NOVEMBER

CSAT exams are approaching fast: students get busier, teachers try to squeeze in just one more type of question in their classes and you can tell that everybody’s nerves are fizzled.  One would think that the school president with his consistently high scores is calm and prepared but you know Jaehyun better than to believe that facade. Still, you don’t expect to catch him on a call with his mother when you leave the football field’s bleachers. These days the school library is full of people day and night, too busy, too stressful, so you prefer killing time on the white painted benches as long as the weather’s not too cold. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, you just halt in your steps when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, unsure of what to do.

“Everything’s okay, mom. Yeah, you don’t have to worry, I’m doing fine.”

His voice is cheerful but you can tell that it’s fake. You can hear him let out a deep breath when he lowers the phone in his hand. He isn’t fine. He has been running himself paper thin. Barely eating, barely sleeping. His hands tremble as he takes the pills. Whether it’s supplements or medicine for stress you never asked. He says it’s only until the CSAT is over. He says it like it’s natural, like it’s a rite of passage everybody goes through.

When you step out of the wall’s cover and Jaehyun sees you, he momentarily tenses before relaxing. You have already seen him in moments of weakness, he knows he doesn’t have to pretend in front of you.

He walks you to the bus stop before going back to squeeze in one more hour of studying before his body would give up on him. You think about stopping him, about telling him not to overdo it but you know that he’s smart enough to know he’s burning the candle on both ends and it could end badly. It also feels unfair of you to tell him to stop when you could never understand his ambitions, so it’s easy for you to say so. So instead of arguing about principles, or trying to stop him knowing it’s useless, you push a bottle of C-vitamin rich juice drink into his hands next morning when you meet by the school gates. It’s you saying that he isn’t alone without saying it. Because the thing is, he never was alone, not physically. But one can be lonely even when dozens of people surround them.

The day of exams is a nerve wracking one, even for you, who doesn’t care about it much because your future doesn’t depend on these scores. You can’t even fathom the pressure and how it feels for those who base their dreams on this one day. Your head is hurting from being in the stuffy classroom solving Maths problems and answering questions about paragraphs from classics all day but instead of heading straight home, you watch as students file out of the school in batches and then one by one. When Jaehyun steps outside of the building, he seems deep in thought and his hands are full of exam papers he’s still reading through. He doesn’t even notice you at first, not until you pull on the sleeve of his jacket. When your eyes meet, you realize that he looks beyond tired and anxious. It breaks your heart a little.

“How do you feel?” You ask carefully, taking the exam papers from his hands and folding them neatly, ready to be packed away.

“I thought I would be relieved that it’s finally over but I keep going back re-thinking my answers, wondering what if I messed it up,” the school president sighs deeply, a shaky little sound and he looks so worried with furrowed forehead and nervously tapping fingers that you have this urge to wrap him in a warm blanket and make sure he can be without worries just a bit.

“There’s nothing you can do about it now though. Maybe you should focus on something else,” you suggest, gently as you hand him back the papers and the boy nods, his fingers brushing yours as he takes it back.

“Yeah, you’re right. The regional football championship is on the corner and I need to write an essay for the school paper. Then there’s…”

“No, I meant…” You cut his anxious rambling off a little frustratedly but when you have Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes on you, curious and confused, you suddenly feel awkwardness sweep into your bones at your silly little idea. Nevertheless, you push through it.  “If you’re free this weekend, would you come with me somewhere?”

“Sure. Where are we going?” The boy doesn’t even hesitate even though he does sound a bit doubtful for which you don’t blame him. It’s the first time you initiate any kind of planned program when it’s actually you who claims she just wants to be alone and doesn’t want to get close to anybody.

“You’ll see. I swear I’m not kidnapping you,” you clear your throat, a bit nervous now that Jaehyun’s full attention is on you so unabashedly. 

“Very reassuring,” he laughs but it’s a little forced sound, the weight of the day still pulling him down, exhaustion slowly wearing him down. So after agreeing on the details like the meeting location and exact time, you usher him to go home and get some sleep.

You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not even a friendly thing, it’s just a thing. A fun thing because you have never seen Jaehyun do anything just for fun. Almost like if it doesn’t count towards his final evaluation in life achievements, it wouldn’t make sense to do so. Or as if he wouldn’t deserve it, which is just sad. So you plan to take his mind off the CSAT results that should come out in a week or two and make sure that he relaxes a bit even if just for a few hours.

You meet up near the metro station and while you show the way, it’s admittedly a bit awkward at first, since neither of you is used to small talk between you. Luckily, the theatre where you bought tickets to a contemporary comedy isn’t far and Jaehyun’s reaction is positively taken aback when you lead him to the entrance.

“Do you like it?” You inquire tentatively, trying to assess his reaction but it’s not easy Jaehyun looks more dumbfounded than anything.

“Yeah, but… how did you know?” He blinks at you a little awed.

“You’re applying to SNU’s Literature and Theatre department. It wasn’t that big of a guess that you appreciate theatre plays,” you shrug, trying to play it off coolly as you line up for ticket inspection.

Since it’s a smaller, more local theatre you don’t look that out of place even though you’re definitely one of the youngests in the audience. Luckily, the play is as funny as the reviews claimed it to be, so you have a good time and from the looks of it, Jaehyun too. It’s the first time you see him smile, really smile without forcing it, and you wonder why he’s hiding it. It’s a beautiful thing.

When the play ends, the boy insists on treating you to dessert as a celebration for getting over with the exams in exchange for the theatre ticket and sitting in the warm, already winter-decorated place, munching on brownie, the remaining awkwardness melts away. For the first time you don’t talk about school-related or heavy matters but rather things like your favourite season, sweet cravings in the colder weather, books you read and your families. It’s new and unfamiliar, a little scary because you can tell you’re getting attached but it’s nice and you decide to focus on that. You let Jaehyun walk you home because it’s late and dark, he reasons and there’s no arguing with him.

“See you at school,” he bids his goodbye when you arrive at the building where you live just above your mother’s cozy little café.

“Yeah. Take care,” you smile shyly and you can see a slow grin make its way to Jaehyun’s lips too. It looks genuine, just how he looks at ease as if some weight was lifted from his shoulders. It’s a good look on him.

→ DECEMBER

Frost is already decorating your window in the mornings when the CSAT results are delivered. Students are buzzing with anticipation and nerves. Once the scores are out, everybody’s guessing whether it will be enough for their first pick or they should scramble for extra points somehow. Most people accept their results eventually and get ready for the holidays instead. You know that Jaehyun did well enough to be hopeful, though you know better than to congratulate too early because SKY universities have much more complex acceptable criteria than other public universities. Not to mention, you know that even with great CSAT scores and good GPA, the competition for scholarships starts even before universities would notify the students about acceptance.

When you see Mijoo cry her eyes out in the girls’ bathroom, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks, something heavy settles in your chest. You haven’t talked in a year and you avoided each other after you got into that argument about how you wanted to live your lives but it would have felt wrong to just walk out without a word. For the sake of your happy memories before the fallout, you could still try to comfort her if she needed it.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, fully ready to be sneered at and sent away but your former best friend looks up at you with red rimmed eyes and relief.

“I will survive,” she lets out a shuddering exhale, her voice breaking between syllables. “My points are not good enough for a scholarship at Hankuk, so even if I do get in, I can’t enroll. We don’t have that kind of money. Soyeon and the others dropped me the moment they found out.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and you mean it because even though you never wanted to go to university, you know how important it’s for Mijoo. More important than your friendship. And even though you have already warned her about what kind of person Soyeon is with her rich family and nicely paved future when they first started hanging out after hagwon, you don’t remind Mijoo that you told her so.

“No. I’m sorry,” she mutters and forces a hopeful smile looking at you. Slowly, you reciprocate it as you help her up. There is clearly something broken between you and it certainly can’t be fixed from one day to another but maybe it’s worth trying.

When Jaehyun asked about your winter break plans, you didn’t think he would make a visit at your mom’s café where you are now working most days. Usually it’s not you who interacts with customers, your mother and the part-timer handle it, so you’re quite surprised when Donghyun pokes his head into the kitchen and tells you that somebody is looking for you.

You’re confused but wipe your soapy hands and go outside only to see Jaehyun at one of the tables shyly waving at you. He wears a cute beanie that has snowflakes melting over the knitwear and his cheeks are tinted pink from the cold. But most importantly, he looks well rested.

“Hey,” you greet him when you reach his table and you can practically feel your mother’s curious gaze on you. “Donghyun said you were looking for me?”

“Uh, hi, yes. Actually I just asked if you were here but he said you would get you, so…” Jaehyun trails off with a casual shrug. “I hope it’s not weird that I’m here. I don’t want to be a bother.”

You hastily shake your head no.

“No! It’s okay, really. I hope you like it here,” you say and brush a piece of hair behind your ear a bit self-consciously. You love your mother’s place with your whole heart, so sharing it with him even if unintentionally feels a bit like sharing a part of yourself. But you don’t mind, you realize, not if it’s him.

“I do. Your mom makes a killer hot choco,” Jaehyun smiles softly and his compliment sounds so sincere, you can’t help but smile too.

“She will be delighted to hear that,” you note as you sneak a look at the boy’s mug which definitely has more marshmallows than the standard. You turn to look at the woman behind the counter but she just waves you off, not so subtly telling you to keep your friend company, the dirty dishes can wait.

So you end up sitting down by Jaehyun’s table, talking about how he spent Christmas with his family, visiting relatives in the countryside and bickering with his older brother while you tell him about your cozy Disney movie nights and eating too much of your mother’s holiday butter cake. It’s when Jaehyun leaves and you glance at his empty spot that you realize you would miss him after graduation and joke’s on you, really, because you were the one to first approach him. You should have known better if you weren’t ready for the consequences.

→ JANUARY

The days leading up to graduation are a rollercoaster of emotion.

“So what’s with you and the school president?” Mijoo asks playfully on one of the last days of school when you’re eating together in the canteen and she catches sight of the boy with other football players as she follows your line of sight.

“Nothing,” you claim, bewildered, quickly averting your eyes back to your food, scrambling to find some excuse but Mijoo doesn’t even listen.

“Yeah, sure. I know your mother’s café is good but he’s practically a regular now,” she huffs and you start regretting that you told her that. “And don’t tell me it’s because he’s tutoring your part-timer during his shifts.”

You close your mouth without saying anything because you were just about to bring up how Jaehyun and Donghyun seem to get along, the school president helping out the junior student with his English.

“Not to mention, you went to his last football match and you don’t even like sports,” Mijoo continues and yeah, that’s on you. You even dragged her along (not that she needed much of a convincing) because you didn’t want to go alone, to be so out of your element and the girl was just happy to spend time with you again.

“I was just… curious,” you mumble, poking your tofu cubes with your chopsticks on your plate.

Seeing Jaehyun on the field was like seeing a different side of him. You know thanks to his stories that he liked football since he was a kid and he appreciates the teamwork aspect of the sport but watching him play during a match felt special. Sure, he still looked focused and determined, a bit uptight like he did when it came to his academics but after the winning goal point, being huddled by his teammates, he looked so proud. It’s a look he never allows himself when it comes to his individual success because he’s too hard on himself, as if he didn’t deserve it, as if he still should have done better. So you’re glad that you went, that you could see him genuinely be happy with his team over the win. Still, you slipped away without congratulating him, letting the school crowd surround him because he was supposed to be in the center of the attention and you wanted no part of that. You didn’t think Jaehyun noticed you, not until he shyly asked how you liked the game the next time you met.

“You know,” Mijoo speaks up thoughtfully, humming against her utensils before putting them down the metal tray and looking you in the eyes.  “It’s okay to let people close. Even if it doesn’t last forever, wouldn’t that be still better than wondering about the what ifs?”

For the longest time you thought that no, it wouldn’t but you glance at Jaehyun and how he shines brighter than the Sun but hides so many moonlit parts of himself that you’re privileged to know and you think that maybe, just maybe it’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable with some people.

The last day of school brings so much snow that the entire school yard is covered in cloud-like white and even the teachers give up preaching about life lessons after lunch hour. A bunch of eighteen year olds run to the field as if you were still kids and it’s that moment when it dawns on you that maybe it’s really the last time you can be freely child-like without adult responsibilities would weigh you down. Maybe that’s why you don’t protest that much when Jaehyun finds you and drags you outside to join the fierce snowball battle. For once, you don’t care about the looks you might get, you don’t care about potentially being put in the center of attention just by being with him, you don’t care about what it means to your future and you have never felt lighter.

You have snow in your hair, cold sweeping into your bones through your soaked shoes and your cheeks still hurt from laughing when later Jaehyun suggests going to your mom’s for hot chocolate to warm up. You agree easily and follow him inside to get your stuff. You shake snow off your coat, trying to warm up your cold-bitten hands by rubbing them together when you notice that Jaehyun abruptly stopped beside you.

Confused, you turn back to look at him just to see him stare down at his phone, his smile long lost from his face. You’re not sure whether it’s your place to even ask what happened, not when Jaehyun finally meets your eyes and he looks like he just saw a ghost. All pale and eyes glossy.

“They…” He starts but his voice breaks before he could get the sentence out. “They rejected me.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded. You watch as a drop of snow slides down Jaehyun’s face, leaving a tear-like trace behind on his flushed face and your heart aches before you can really process what’s going on.

“SNU. I just got the rejection email,” the boy mutters and lets out a way too forced laughter. He reaches to his messy locks with trembling fingers, scattering snow everywhere as he takes a shaky breath and starts walking up and down anxiously.

You just stand there, frozen, your heart sinking at the sight of him. There’s frustration and disbelief and bitterness as a scoff scratches his throat. You can see him fighting tears, not wanting to fall apart, not here, not in front of you, maybe not ever.

It was his dream, getting into SNU, and everybody told him he could do it, that for him it would be easy and while it’s flattering, people’s trust in his abilities, it still put him on pedestal, under such pressure that it almost broke him and now you can see him being crushed down from the same weight.

You don’t know what makes you do that, from where you take the courage but suddenly you stand in front of him, stopping him in his pacing, and take his shaking hand in yours.

“How… how will I tell my parents? What‒” Jaehyun gasps for air and you can feel him squeeze your hand for support as he struggles to fill his lungs with oxygen. “What do I… do now? I don’t… I didn’t…”

“Shh,” you slide a hand over his nape, massaging the tight muscles there in a weak attempt to calm him down before he could drive himself into hyperventilation. He’s so tense from the sheer effort to not break down, tear drops clinging to his eyelashes, blurring his vision. “Just let go. It’s okay.”

“No,” Jaehyun pushes back, stubborn but he’s clinging to your hand like a lifeline.

“It is. It’s just me,” you insist because you don’t judge, not for this, never for something like this. “I’m here.”

That’s all it takes for Jaehyun to give in and his tears start falling. You can feel when tension leaves his body and he all but crashes into you, his broader form slumping against you with his forehead on your shoulder, crying into your neck. You put a hand over his back, rubbing soothing patterns against his spine.

You don’t know how long you stay there. You wait until Jaehyun’s quiet sobs die down and his breathing slowly normalizes, until he pulls away enough to look into your own teary eyes. You know you couldn’t say anything to calm the mess in his head because you can’t quite understand how much this lost opportunity means for him, so you don’t tell him frivolous things like how it’s not the end of the world.

“You will be okay,” you whisper, quiet and sacred like a wish. “You don’t have to figure out how, not right now.”

A week later you graduate.

Myung Jaehyun stands on the podium in front of the lines of students and seated parents. He has a pledge of honors students on his suit and a bouquet of flowers in hands, an offer from another still prestigious university in his inbox and his parents, proud, in the crowd. His speech makes you feel nostalgic and when your eyes meet, a small smile appears on his lips, imperfect but happy, so pretty. You watch him and feel yourself smile too. Maybe it’s not actually that bad; being seen.

→ AFTER

Contrary to what you expected, Jaehyun stays as a permanent fixture in your days even after graduation. He hangs out at the café, sometimes stays even after closing, helping you put the chairs onto the tables and watching you learn how to make coffee and latte art. Sometimes you go to theatre plays or to the cinema, he invites you out to help him buy a present for his mother and then buys you hotteok as thanks.

Then university starts and he gets busier but you can tell that he doesn’t let school work bury him under like it did in high school. It’s good for him, starting fresh in a place where nobody knows him and his perfect student reputation. It’s less pressure on him and he can form genuine friendships without the fear that he’s approached only because of his influence as school president or his diligent note taking.

“I met this guy in Sociology class and he just asked if I wanted to be friends out of the blue. He invited me to hang out with him and his friends over the weekend. It was so random but it felt nice,” he says one day, leaning against the mop in his hands. You hum, letting him know that you’re listening even while cleaning the countertop. Apparently he and Sungho bonded over football, so they made plans to play one of these days.

“That’s good. You love football,” you note lightheartedly when you move to take the mop from him, checking if he missed any spots but of course he didn’t.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun hums, fixing his hair now that his hands are free and he turns after you when you walk farther to put the cleaning tools away. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanna come along? To watch?”

You freeze, avoiding looking at the boy. You do want to watch him play but being with strangers isn’t really something you’re comfortable with, even if he’s there, even if he says they’re cool. Jaehyun knows you enough though and he can tell you hesitate, so he adds:

“You can bring Mijoo too if you want. And I’m thinking of inviting Donghyun too because Sungho also has younger friends.”

Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. At least you would know people other than Jaehyun too. Maybe it would be fun.

“I will think about it,” you promise and Jaehyun beams almost as if you already said yes. He’s humming along to the music from the radio while you make sure everything is ready for closing. These days your mother lets you do so a few days a week just as she’s more comfortable with the idea of actually employing you.

Once the lights are switched off and the door is closed, Jaehyun walks you to the staircase leading to the upper floors where you live and for some reason he looks nervous standing in front of you. You lift your hand to wave him goodbye and tell him to take care on his way home like always but he beats you to it with a rushed out question.

“Do you wanna go to the movies this Friday after your shift?”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply easily, without hesitation because it’s him, just him, and you’re comfortable with him even if he sometimes makes your heart beat irregularly. Like right now when he blinks, all puppy-like and licks his dry lips to clarify.

“I mean… like a date?”

“Oh,” you mumble and feel air punched out of your chest as you process the information along with the unsure tilt of Jaehyun’s words. He really does look nervous. You make him nervous.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to make things weird between us but sometimes it already feels like we’re dating and I have to stop myself from holding your hand or… khm, so like I just wanted to put it out there,” he stops his own rambling, eyes darting everywhere before finally settling on you, his words filling you with warmth. “That I like you.”

“Okay,” you let out a long exhale, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your light cardigan, then clear your throat. “What… what are we watching?”

“Wait, is that a yes? To the date?” Jaehyun asks with widened eyes and a grin so wide you can’t help but chuckle fondly.

“Yeah,” you nod shyly, pink painting your cheeks under the yellow hue of the lights. “And you can hold my hand.”

You were fine alone but if it’s Jaehyun, you don’t mind taking risks.

[willbyersabyss]

The Upside Down is stuck on multiple days, not just November 6th, 1983. I've already discussed this possibility a little bit, but I collected more evidence and I want to make a longer theory post about it!

The Wheeler house is stuck on November 6th, 1983, but do we know that about the rest of the Upside Down?

This was mentioned in another post I made, but Robin literally says it herself. She says Nancy's house is stuck, not the entire thing. This line could be hinting at the UD having different time appearances in different locations.

So let's get into the evidence:

The most damning evidence of this theory is that the Snow Ball decorations are in the UD. The Snow Ball takes place in December, not November. Even the cars in the parking lot are the same. The sparkly lights hanging inside can be seen as well. If the entire UD is stuck in the same time, there's zero explanation for the Snow Ball decorations appearing there.

Joyce already had problems with her magnets before so they want us to look at these damn magnets! In the UD Byers house, the big pink magnet is low down on the fridge, but it's on the top in the real world. The pair of magnets that are above the pink magnet are not there at all in the UD. It's possible that the magnets fell and got rearranged during that week with all the crazy stuff happening, but it's definitely something to consider.

What if the magnets are different because this wasn’t a 1983 version of the Byers house?

This might be a bit of a stretch but we know that Joyce was working the night Will went missing. If the UD is stuck on that night, why isn't Joyce's car in front of the store she works at? Little weird.

Here's another one. On the right in the real world, there's a black car with a white top. This car is in that exact place in the UD. Will was in 1984, so why is that car in the same place in 1983? This goes for all of Will's s2 visions. I won't put photos for all of them, but each vision looks identical to the 1984 version of Hawkins instead of 1983.

All except for one.

This is where it gets weird. You could say that Will's visions are identical to 1984 because they're Vecna visions, not the actual Upside Down. If that were the case, why is the UD different from both 1984 and 1983 in one of his visions?

Look. There's no laundry in this vision. The second image is from 1984 and there's laundry on the line. There's also laundry in the 1983 version. But none in the UD? To be fair, the second pic was a few days after the vision so it's possible that they did laundry between the two scenes. But I don't like simple explanations! It's weird!

Ok so why is the UD stuck on different days? It has to do with memory travel. I think multiple people have travelled into different memories and this altered the appearance of the UD.

Max's Snow Ball memory is the reason why the decorations appear in the UD. There's even foreshadowing for this in the original Snow Ball episode! Max has a hair pin with a stained glass rose on it. El also has a bracelet with a little flower. This is because they meet there later on the other side and fight Vecna who is represented by the stained glass window!

Look at the lyrics that play during Lucas and Max's first kiss. "It's you I can't replace" is a very telling lyric here. People can't be replicated in the UD, but buildings can. Max's memory didn't have any people when she travelled there. She literally can't replace or replicate Lucas.

The next line talks about feeling cold. What place is described as cold? The Upside Down. Right. Also the entire song is filled with "I'll be watching you" lines which are self explanatory. She was being watched by Vecna. This is proven right with the Mind Flayer transition a bit later!

So what if the Mind Flayer was there during the Snow Ball not only for Will, but Max? We know a red storm follows Vecna/Mind Flayer wherever he goes. The Mind Flayer might have been there because Vecna and Max were there in the future (past?) in her memory. This is why the storm appears around Max’s memory as she’s fighting Vecna.

Notice how Will gets pulled into a version of the arcade that looks normal with no people before he arrives in the Upside Down version. Yeah. Same thing happened to Max. She saw a happy, normal version of the Snow Ball for a few minutes until it started rotting and replicating the UD. Will's change only took a couple of seconds, but he's been in the UD before, so it doesn't take long to convince his mind that he's there.

The similarities here show that Will may have memory hopped like Max did at some point!

Look at this! The first image is Castle Byers in 1983. On the table to the right, there's a microscope in the UD version. That microscope isn't there in the 1983 version. You know when it is there? The 1982 memory Joyce recalls. The lion plushie also moved which either means 1. Will was cuddling it in the UD (cried typing this) or 2. the UD version is not the 1983 version.

After Joyce recalls the 1982 memory, the sheet blows aggressively in the wind. The wind isn't that strong elsewhere in this scene. What if that wind was Will travelling into a Castle Byers memory? When Max travelled to the Snow Ball, her hair also blew in the wind! (partially because Billy threw a door across the room but work with me here). I bet the version of Castle Byers in the UD is either the Joyce memory here or the memory of him building it with Jonathan.

What if each time they flipped to a memory of Will in s1, he was travelling into that memory and transforming the UD to replicate it? He kept trying to hide in a happy memory, but it always ended up rotten because of Vecna.

So when Will was initially kidnapped, he tried to go back to the Wheeler house memory to save himself. That’s why their house is stuck on that day but the rest of the UD isn’t.

It's also totally possible that some of the locations in the UD replicate future memory hopping. Maybe some characters in s5 will hide in a happy memory and alter the UD. Some parts of the UD could be from the future!

The Upside Down might be like a meeting place for memories and mind weirdness. Multiple connected mindscapes? One mindscape they're all tapping into? A random void-like dimension that they go to when they enter their own minds? Many possibilities! All I know is that the UD isn't stuck on one day and Max's Snow Ball memory definitely had something to do with that. Memory hopping changed that damn dimension!

[awwkie-dot-jar]

I think we don't talk enough about the implications of Val Velocity's main color being white. So I'm writing a short essay about it.

About Val Velocity's character design

I need to start this off with a brief rundown of the narrative of Danger Days. Danger Days is centered around themes of self expression, anti-conformism and anti-corporation. The killjoys are rebels who are fighting BL/ind, an evil company that seeks to control every aspect of an individuals' life. The Killjoys fight with their appearance just as much as they do with guns. They use their flamboyant, eccentric and colorful clothing as a way to challenge the sanitized, conformist society that BL/ind is promoting. The mask, which in other media is typically used to indicate hiding one's true self, in the context of Danger Days takes the opposite meaning: the Killjoys' customized masks are the ultimate tool of self-expression. Each member of the Fabulous Four, the original gang of Killjoys, has a color distinctive to them, which matches the color of their gun.

In the context of Danger Days, whites and greys are used to symbolize lack of identity and conformism. This is evident if we compare the original Killjoys to BL/ind agents.

Now we get to Val Velocity as a character. His story takes place several years after the Fabulous Four, have been killed. Val is the leader of a group called the Ultra Vs, and he's trying to continue the legacy of the Fabulous Four. We learn that he particularly looks up to their leader, Party Poison. This is reinforced by the fact that his own gun is yellow just like theirs. However, Val is fundamentally different than the former Killjoys. He's arrogant, and he fights because he craves violence and glory, rather than to actually stand up for what is right.

His design and attitude conveys this quite well in my opinion:

His palette is almost completely monochromatic. Hell, if he was placed amongst the BL/ind henchmen instead of the Killjoys in the pic below I wouldn't even bat an eye.

Val does not understand what the Fabulous Four standed for. He's not fighting BL/ind to protect people, or for the sake of freedom of self expression, or to fight conformism. In fact, Val's own sense of identity is shaky, as he's trying to follow the footsteps of someone else. Most of his identity revolves around trying to emulate Poison: even his own gun, which is almost as important as the mask to a Killjoy, is the same color as theirs. And the gun, something he has assimilated from someone else's identity, is one of the few things differentiating him from the BL/ind agents as far as color schemes go.

Val is not fighting for ideals, he's fighting because he craves violence. We see him hurting others with no remorse, often deliberately harming those who are weaker than him for the sake of it. In which way is his violence any better than BL/ind's?

The necklace with vampire fangs, arguably his most iconic design element, also plays into this. The Killjoys are fighting the Dracs, BL/ind agents who wear a mask with vampire fangs. In the context of Danger Days, his necklace is an open threat to the Dracs. His most prominent design element is a symbol of violence.

His palette being mostly white, in an universe where color is a synonym of resistence and self expression, is very telling. One would naturally assume that if he were to add color to his appearance during the story, it would be a sign of character growth. But the ttlotfk comics subvert that expectation, because when that moment comes it has exactly the opposite meaning:

Val, after spiraling into paranoia and mania, dyes his hair "Poison red" in an attempt to appropriate Poison's legacy. This is the ultimate act of lack of self identity. The first time Val has tried to add color to his appearance, what should have been an act of self-expression, is him attempting to "take" someone else's color. But he cannot be Poison, or overshadow his legacy. Val is only a caricature of who Poison was: aside from the gun, and the bright red hair, he has nothing in common with them. He doesn't have the morals, nor he fights for the same ideals.

I think Val, as a character, is meant to be a testament to how in every rebellion there will be people looking for an outlet for violence rather than fighting for a right cause.

[laurfilijames]

Hey! I don't know whether you've seen it. I've stumbled across this pic recently and it hit me like a wave. Look at his physique, his arms, his strong legs, those hips... imagine wrapping your legs around his omg.....

Will, you fucking handsome hot son of a bitch, marry me!! Now!!

Oh, I've seen it.

But no matter how many times I have, it still hits me like a god damn freight train 🫠💦

All of what you've described are the exact things that make my mouth water (among other things...) when I look at this photo of that man who disarms me without fail Every. Single. Time.

Now, let's indulge a little, shall we?

---

Will wiped the sweat from his brow with the dirty rag he'd just finished cleaning his hands with, the heat from the blazing afternoon sun making the oil change on his truck a little more of a grueling job than usual.

His white t-shirt clung to his damp back, his sweat soaking through it so much it made it transparent, and as you walked up behind him, you could make out every sculpted muscle that wove through his thick flesh.

Hearing you come up, he glanced behind him, smirking at you with a tilt of his head as he unlatched the rod that held open the hood of the truck and slammed it down.

“Almost done?” you asked, dragging a finger up the length of his back, watching his smile grow as you did.

“Mhm,” he hummed, turning toward you to gather you in his arms, giving you the hug you'd been waiting for all afternoon.

His large hands began to roam your body, slipping down your back and over the curve of your bum, squeezing your cheeks as a low growl rumbled through him.

You smiled at him when he peeled away from you slightly, but Will was quick to move his hands up to cradle your face and kiss you hard, your smile erased as a moan was coaxed out of you instead.

Keeping his lips locked with yours, he bent slightly and gripped under your thighs, scooping you up so you wrapped your legs around his strong waist. You smiled against his lips, your fingers dancing along the back of his neck as you pulled yourself closer to his body, rubbing your core on his stomach as he took a step toward the truck and planted you on the hood.

Will stood between your spread legs, leaning into you to kiss you more, his tongue delving into the heat of your mouth and rolling along yours in a way that made you feel drunk.

Your hands were everywhere they could be; your fingers raking through the short, blond strands of his wet hair, your nails digging into his shoulders before falling lower onto his biceps, feeling the flex of his toned arms under your palms as he continued to explore your body at the same time you did his.

“I came out to see if you needed anything…” you breathed, pausing your kissing enough to get your words out.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice rough and heavy with lust.

He tugged you so you moved further off the hood, relying solely on the support he provided you with his sturdy frame, edging his hips closer to yours where he rubbed himself against you so you could feel him through the materials that separated you.

“I need you.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 9

Roy Harper + sweat and Musk

Couldnt find a gif of roy, so heres a pic instead.

Still tired, I want a monster so bad, specifically the white one :/ How tf did this get so long, hello?

Reader is a speedster, cuz idk.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Roy Harper was hot, everyone on your team and outside of it knew that. From his cocky grin, to his long red hair tucked away into a red cap, and his stupidly thick muscular arms. You weren’t too bad to look at either, but where Roy’s bulk was in his arms, yours was in your legs. It came with the area of being a speedster, you all had some shapely legs that would catch eyes if you wore tight enough pants.

They used to call you White bolt, but like most heroes who had started out as sidekicks, you’d changed your name to Bizerk. It had started out as a title of sorts, given to you when you had ended up stuck in a different dimension, where the justice league called them the justice lords. Bizerk had started out as a name they called you, as you hadn’t existed in this dimension, leaving you as an unknown. It later became a name the public called you, but from them there had been love and hope.

You had been stuck in that dimension for a long time, having ended up there back when you had just turned 19, and you had only gotten back to your dimension in your mid-20s. It had been difficult to readjust to this dimension, where the justice league were still good and your friends were all alive and had missed you. You were still twitchy at times, and your moral compass was twisted, but that’s what made you fit with the outlaws so well.

Sadly, your relationship with your former teacher, Barry, was almost crumbled to dust as neither of you were who you were before, having both lost so much, seen so much, done things you didn’t want to do. Instead of being student and teacher, almost family like you once had been, you were now simply coworkers who might share a coffee after patrols, or you’d keep extra snacks around for fellow speedsters.

One thing that hadn’t changed too much though had been Roy. Sure, he was bigger now, buffer, he had almost left you unconscious with those arms of his when he had hugged you the first time, and again later when you two were alone and hed kissed you like he wanted to eat you alive. Before you had been scooped away to another dimension, you two had had a thing between you. There had never been a title on it, but you two always sought the other out and always found yourselves dry humping in an alleyway or sucking the other off between missions.

Apparently, he had spiralled into addiction, left the arrow name behind, had a kid, gotten out of addiction, then joined the outlaws, and so much more. There hadn’t really been much of a question on your part as you sided with the outlaws almost immediately, since that was where Roy, Kory, and later you found out Jason, the one robin you liked, was part of it too. So, now the outlaws had their own speedster who ran as fast if not faster than the rest of them, and didn’t have a problem spilling blood.

For a while, you and Roy didn’t talk about any of it, or the feelings you both still possessed years later. You weren’t young men who denied their sexuality like before, or who had the energy to pull a quickie just because you wanted too. You still could, of course, but neither of you seemed to find the same thrill as when you were younger. As you both toed around the inevitable, you resorted to less than stellar acts to satiate yourself.

You hadn’t gotten off well for years, as running around in a dimension as one of the few heroes against a regime didn’t leave much time. But now that you were home and safe, it was like your body was trying to catch up. You realized it might have started to become a problem when Roy had returned to your shared apartment, because you guys didn’t wanna be apart though neither said it in words, in a red tanktop and sweaty from the gym.

He had thrown his arms around your head as you had sat on the couch going through one of the many video games you had missed in your time away, and you had popped a stiffy almost immediately. Roy didn’t seem to notice how you tensed, as you always tensed from touch these days, but you felt drool pooling in your mouth as the scent of his sweat filled your senses.

Or maybe he had, as he started showing up more and more to your shared place, fresh from the gym or from a run, and he would always drape himself over you like some damsel in distress. It got so bad you almost started vibrating like only a speedster could, and you ended up resorting to nicking his musky laundry when he wasn’t home. Huffing that stupid red tank top of his, one you were sure he hadn’t washed for the past week even though hed worn in every day, you came hard enough that you didn’t stop buzzing around the edges for at least fifteen minutes.

You felt like a pervert as you snuck the tank top back into the laundry, trying hard to ignore how you were already hard and throbbing again. Being a speedster came with many positives, and depending on who you were, an almost non-existent refractory period was one of them. But for you, it was a curse, as no matter how many times you jerked off inhaling Roy’s potent laundry you still ached for more.

You felt like you were going crazy, as your inability to satisfy yourself left you agitated, and it spilled into your hero work. You hit enemies too hard, had much less patience, and couldn’t think straight, which had been your biggest strength in the other dimension. Even worse was the fact that Roy seemed to just love going around in that sleeveless getup of his, he had even started forgoing any layers under leaving his sweaty pits right in your face when hed pull you into his side after missions.

A less stable part of your brain told you just to kill him, because he was driving you up the wall like a half wild animal and you had no idea what to do. It ended with you trying to find different ways to work out your frustration, which ended up with you blasting music in your headphones as you pushed the leagues gym equipment to their limits.

None of your friends seemed to want to get close to you when you were in the mood you were in, maybe it was the murderous look on your face as you lifted weights or did an uncountable number of push-ups. You hadn’t even noticed Roy was there until you were packing up to go home, your entire body jittering and buzzing around the edges from exhaustion. Just as you were ready to hike home, Roy had hooked that deliciously stupid arm around your shoulder and declared you’d walk back together.

Maybe it was your frayed nerves, but he smelled even stronger today than usual, and the less stable part of your brain just wanted to shove him up against the wall and slobber all over his arms and pits like some kind of dog in heat. But you were stronger than that, that was until you guys stepped into your apartment and Roy shoved his face into your neck and inhaled loudly. You felt yourself give an almost painful throb at the groan he let out, your frazzled semblance of control slipping between your fingers like sand as he grunted how good you smelled.

What little restraint you both possessed seemed to finally snap, and soon your lips were mashed together, tongues rubbing and spit running down chins as clothes were pulled or even ripped off sweaty bodies. You had no idea whose bedroom you ended up in, you were too distracted by Roy grabbing your knees, pulling them open, and shoving his face into the crevice between your thighs and crotch.

The two of you moaned in unison, Roy from the powerful onslaught of musk that filled his senses, and you from the redhead’s wet tongue slobbering across the salty skin. His rough hands gripped the back of your knees, pushing them up further and further until your lower body was lifted off the bed, his tongue searching down until he could press it against your hole.

You groaned and panted, pulling at his hair was Roy ate you out with the gusto of a starving man finally given a meal. You could hear him huffing and smelling you as he did it too, seemingly just as lost in your musk as you were in his. Your orgasm slammed into you like a lightning bolt as he pulled your sack into his mouth, worshipping your balls and taking in the scent and taste of them. You didn’t even notice it approaching until you had white stripes across your sweaty torso.

You weren’t even soft for a whole thirty seconds before you were filling up again, especially as Roy’s tongue dragged up your body, licking up the streaks of white he had caused you to spill. Your lips met in another sloppy kiss, slick and wet noises filling the room as you hooked your arms around his head, wanting him closer than was humanly possible.

As you kissed Roy’s hand gripped your length, jerking it with a speed that had your hips jolting off the bed. So little was needed for you to cum again, spilling into his palm this time as he sucked on your tongue like it was a delectable treat. As he withdrew, he patted your muscular thigh with his clean hand, panting for you to roll over, which you did with no question asked.

His spit slick lips kissed up your back as he smeared your own essence against your spit slick hole, pushing two fingers in as he opened you up quicker than he might have any other day. You moaned, turning your head as you grabbed onto his head and twisted him enough that you could kiss him again. Two fingers soon became three, and your kiss became simply panting into the others mouth as you ground your hips back against his hand.

As he pulled his fingers out of your hole, you used your speed to grab him and flip him, throwing him onto his back so you could sit down on his aching almost purple length, the two of you both moaning though his sounded more cracked and broken than your own as he hadn’t cum even once. Roy was about to grip your hips, but you forced his arms above his head as you started to ride him.

Roy was about to ask what you were up too before you leaned down, letting the flat of your tongue run through his pits just like you had wanted to do for months. The redhead laughed and started moving his hips, thrusting up into you as he kissed at any skin of yours, he could reach, letting his tongue lick up any sweat he came across.

You ended up licking from his pits, up his neck, and into his mouth once more, Roy groaning in pleasure at the taste of his own salty sweat as your hips struck down on his own. Now that his hands were free, Roy quickly grabbed onto your hips and flipped you over, letting his thrusts turn rougher as you scratched and clawed at his back.

You were sure you had came multiple times as you two continued like a pair of rabbits, but your refractory period was so shot you didn’t even go soft. You knew Roy was about to finish as his thrusts slowed to a deep stomach-turning roll, his groans turning into higher moans as his jaw dropped. The flash of warmth inside you had you spilling against your chest again, clenching up around Roy in a way that had him jolting and grunting.

He flopped down on top of you, both of you even more sweaty and exhausted than before, and when he started lazily licking at your sweaty neck and you smacked at his shoulder. Roy chuckled softly as he leaned back, looking at you with the type of love you two had always felt. The kiss he gave you this time was full of love instead of lust, but soon the loving kisses wasn’t enough to ignore the disgusting messes you both were.

Roy almost looked as sad as you felt as you two had to go shower and put on new sheets on what you saw was Roy’s bed, but it had to be done as you didn’t want to sleep in that type of filth. In Roy’s words, you just had to get dirty again if that was an issue. As you were about to fall asleep, Roy kissed your shoulder and muttered that he loved you and wanted you to be his forever, which caused you to chuckle softly as you rolled over, so you were face to face. Kissing his lips softly, you muttered that you loved him too, and you wanted the same. With a grin, Roy pulled you close, and together you fell asleep, feeling exhausted but oh so satisfied.

[chiharuhashibira]

What about a shorts featuring your fave Kimetsu No Yaiba teacher?

But make it Professor X Student 👀

I'm a sucker for this genre *blush*😩

So let's go and start this out babes! Imma make the Fem!Reader an 18+ tho, not comfy to write about younger/minor XD With that, she's in college and the lads are his professors. Hence, a College AU!

I'll make one shots for Kyo, Ten, Giyu, and Nemi but post it once per day 🥵 Same title will be used but different CWs~ This is because i saw this pic down there and I gulped and... OMEGED!

So here's the first part~ Rengoku version!

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔: 𝑯𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐳𝐮𝐢 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐈𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Content Warnings: ProfessorXStudent/Age Gap/Suggestive/Curse Words/Matured Content/18+/Sexually Explicit

Minors DNI.

(Image is not mine, credits to the rightful owner)

🌸𝑲𝒚𝒐𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒐𝒌𝒖🌸

You have always adored your history professor, Kyojuro Rengoku. His dazzling eyes, flame-like hair, and ideal stature just can't help but draw you in, even though you know it's wrong. He's a professor, and you're a graduating student!

But he's nice and handsome, and he takes your breath away as always.

His voice, whenever you hear it, makes you wonder how he would sound when he pins you on the bed, moaning on your—

"Y/L/N-san? What's your answer?"

"Huh?!" You stood up, looked around, and saw that everyone was already staring at you. Apparently, Kyojuro has been calling you a few times to answer his question. But, for some reason, your horny-ass brain can't remember what that question was.

"Rengoku-sensei, sorry. Uh, what was the question again?"

Kyojuro crossed his arms, with his pecs and biceps getting obvious under his white shirt.

Kyojuro crossed his arms, with his pecs and biceps getting obvious under his white shirt. You gulped as you noticed the dismay in his eyes.

"Sit down." You sat down, watching as your history professor walked past you and called Muichiro instead.

The class ended with you awkwardly listening to the discussion, trying your best to stop your intrusive thoughts. All students have left the classroom, and you were also about to go when suddenly Kyojuro, who was still sitting at his desk, called you.

"Y/L/N-san, stay."

Your eyes widened, and you felt heat crawling up to your cheeks as you realised that him telling you to stay would also mean that you'd be alone with the man who makes your heart go crazy.

You turned to look at him and closed the door behind you once again. "Yes sensei."

Kyojuro was looking at the papers passed to him earlier; he seemed busy, so even if you were standing in front of him, you remained silent. You don't want to cause any more trouble because of what happened earlier.

You watched his fingers as they slowly ran on the sheet of paper, imagining how it would feel if they ran on your body instead. You flinched as you felt it getting hot down there with how dirty your thoughts were getting with each passing second.

Your breathing became heavier, and that kicked Kyojuro out of his trance. "Oh yes. Y/L/N-san. I wonder what happened earlier. You're always on top of this class. Your quiz also proves that. Is there any problem?"

Kyojuro sometimes doesn't act just as your prof; he also acts as your mentor and friend, so his concern now doesn't surprise you at all. Your pure-hearted professor just cares for you. But you'll know that his dismay would be fueled if he knew about your unpure thoughts about him.

"Rengoku-sensei, I'm okay. I was just distracted earlier. But I promise I'll make up for it tomorrow in class!"

"Distracted because of?"

You.You wanted to say that badly, but of course you couldn't, so you just muttered that it's personal. Kyojuro didn't inquire more, but he stood up and snatched your bag from your hand. His actions shocked you and left you stunned.

"Sensei?" you asked, confused.

"I'll drive you home."

Oh yes, Kyojuro lives right next to your apartment; that's why he knows where you live. But this is the very first time that the man has offered that.

"Sensei, you don't need to."

"I'm heading home early too, so why not?"

You gulped as Kyojuro picked up his jacket and draped it over his shoulder as he used his other hand to carry your bag. All your complaints were shoved down your throat as he finally went out of the classroom.

You followed him, walking a bit slower than he was to avoid commotion. If your classmates see that you're going home with your favourite professor, they might interpret it wrongly. But then Kyojuro took you to the faculty because he needed to say goodbye to his friends.

There, all your professors asked was why you were with him. "Oh well, we're neighbours! I might as well drive her home." He said casually that he got agreement from them.

--

The drive was not too silent, apparently; Kyojuro was chatty outside the uni! He kept on talking about his little brother, saying that he's as smart as you. Yes. You're listening, but still, you can't help but feel your body get hotter at the thought of you alone with him inside his car.

You pressed your thighs together under your skirt, and Kyojuro seemed to notice this.

"Do you want to pee?"

He asked that, which made you blush furiously as you shot him a look. He doesn't know how to hold back his words, and hearing them only made you feel worse about the embarrassing thoughts you've been having.

"Uh... no sensei."

"But you have been pressing your thighs together, and you seem to be uncomfortable."

WHY ON EARTH IS HE LOOKING AT MY THIGHS? You thought as you covered your thigh with your hands. A soft chuckle escaped from his lips, and that immediately sent you tingling. "You're a weird one." He said and finally continued driving.

You watched as Kyojuro drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He gulped, and you witnessed how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, which definitely made you bite your lip. You can usually calm yourself around him, but not today.

Perhaps it's because earlier today, while you were about to head to university early, Kyojuro walked out of his flat, only clad in his pants. You were astounded by the sight, but you tried to compose yourself, pretending not to see him. But then your history professor called you and greeted you good morning with his deep, raspy voice, different from his loud and jolly tone in class.

And so now you're here, sitting beside him inside his car while having those dirty thoughts.

"Y/L/N-san, do I have dirt on my face?"

"No sensei. I was just—"

"Sorry to pry, but am I the reason why you were distracted at class earlier?"

You didn't know how to respond to his question, so you just decided to shut up. But being the straightforward man he is, Kyojuro chuckled and spoke up once again, with that same low tone that he used earlier.

"I'm not a narcissist, but I'll take your reaction as a yes."

"How dare you—"

His chuckles cut you off, which made you smile.

"I'm just kidding, Y/L/N-sama. You're a beautiful woman, so why would you waste your time staring at your old history professor?"

You blushed when he called you beautiful, which also made you scoff. "What? Old? You look like you're just in your early 20s."

"Eh, I'm already 29."

"Hmmm, 9-year age gap?" You accidentally blurted out what you were thinking, which made Kyojuro clear his throat. You covered your mouth and looked outside the window, wishing that the man would just let that slide.

But then, it's Kyojuro, so...

"What's with the gap?"

"Nothing."

"However, that redness on your cheek certainly says something!"

Fuck. You whispered under your breath as you shifted on your seat.

"Oh! We're here."

He suddenly said that, which lifted the tension between the both of you. You turned to look at Kyojuro and saw his smile. "So, see you tomorrow?" He said, and you just nodded.

When Kyojuro opened the car door for you, your heart skipped a beat. You swear that the moment his fingers touched yours as he handed you the bag you'd almost forgotten was inside, you were instantly engulfed in a blaze of conflicting feelings.

You gulped and thanked him once again, but then he called you which stopped you in your tracks. "Y/L/N-san, it seems like I forgot my house key at school."

"Oh? Perhaps it's just inside the car, Rengoku-sensei?"

You went back to him and opened the car door for his back seat. "I'll check for you." You said, trying to help your teacher. You leaned down, searching his backseat. Suddenly, you felt something warm on your back, which made you blush. What the hell is he doing?

You turned to look back at him and saw that your history professor had draped his jacket around your waist. "Uh... Sorry, but you're..." He said while pointing at your skirt, which made you blush and stand, holding his jacket before it fell to the floor.

You bowed down, apologising for flashing at him accidentally. Though the dirty part of you wished that he really had seen. This time, it was Kyojuro who was blushing madly as he combed his hair with his fingers.

Oh, those fingers—you would really die for it. "Rengoku-san, it's late. Perhaps you would want to uh... stay in my flat? The lobby guy was absent earlier, so we can't really get your spare key. Let's just get them early in the morning tomorrow so you can prepare for work."

"You won't mind?"

"Of course."

--

You've found yourself panting as you move yourself grinding against Kyojuro's hard cock. He was holding you by the waist, digging his nails into your skin as pleasure engulfed him.

What just happened?

Flashback:

You opened the door inside your house, letting Kyojuro in. He made sure to take off his shoes before stepping inside, but you sat on the floor and offered to take them off for him. The man was astounded at first, but he just nodded in agreement.

You took off his shoes and placed them beside yours. You stood up without any concern when you felt a thug's hand on your skirt. You looked back and saw Kyojuro's hand pulling down on your skirt, but not in a dirty way. He was red once again, making you blush as well.

"You should be careful moving while wearing a skirt, Y/L/N-san." He said. Kyojuro lets go of the fabric and hands you his jacket again. You accepted it but teased him a bit, wishing that it would ease your situation.

"Eh, you won't be interested anyway, sensei."

You saw how Kyojuro gulped and looked away, and that enticed you more. So, you decided that you'd just give him a few more teases for the night.

You didn't expect that all of your teasing, a.k.a. seduction, would affect Kyojuro so much. You had to let the man shower in the bathroom first, handing him one of the bathrobes that you are lending to your visitors.

Inside the bathroom, Kyojuro was astounded at himself. One tease, and he was hard as fuck. He looked down at his hardness and at his reflection. He knows feeling this way isn't right, but he just can't stop it. You're irresistable!

Kyojuro showered in cold water, wishing that his erection would fade. And it did.

But then, when he went out, he saw you finish your bath as well, as you used the other bathroom in your flat. You were clad in shorts and a crop top shirt without a bra, which made him rethink his life decisions.

He hasn't seen you like this, and that definitely made him hard once more. You noticed his stare at you, so you tossed him a big pyjama that caught him off-guard. It landed on Kyojuro's face.

"Sensei, you're spacing out!"

He picked up the neglected clothing and went inside the bathroom without saying anything.

Kyojuro offered to cook for you, saying that he wanted to do so because you let him stay the night. You watched how skilled he is with knives. Kyojuro looks so wonderful, even if he's concentrating.

"Why were you distracted at my class, Y/L/N-san? I'm really curious. You were never like that."

He brought up the topic once again as he finished preparing your dinner. Kyojuro placed the food on the table and sat in front of you, waiting for your answer. So he isn't going to drop this off, huh?

"There's just a cute guy that has been lingering in my mind lately."

"Oh, so you're in love?" There was a tone of dismay in his voice, and you can't fathom why. You just shrugged your shoulders. Kyojuro was silent for a while until...

"But I don't like it when you're spacing out from my class. Being in love is not an excuse."

You finished your bowl quickly, trying to evade his scolding. "You cook great, sensei!"

"Don't change the topic." He was serious, and for you, it's probably because he loves his subject so much. You're unaware that a part of Kyojuro is jealous.

Yes. Even if he denies it, he's attracted to you. It's just that; he just confirmed it now. And now that it is clear to him, he doesn't want to share. He knows it's wrong to feel this but it's hard to deny it further.

You crossed your legs and leaned in closer to him. "Hmm, what if that cute guy was you, sensei?" You joked, wishing that he could also understand your hidden meaning.

And yes, Kyojuro did, but he shrugged it off. "What are you trying to imply? I'm your distraction?"

"I was just kid—"

His breathing had changed, and that made you stop talking.

"Why are you teasing me, Y/N?" Kyojuro's question and the way he called you by your first name surprised you. "Sensei?"

"Answer me."

"I... I... I like you, sensei!"

You finally blurted out that it made you scared. You knew that you shouldn't say that to a professor, but you still did it. You were expecting a few more scoldings, but to your astonishment, a smirk crept up on his lips.

"Come here then." He said, patting his lap. You gulped and obliged, sitting on his lap and facing him.

Kyojuro stared at you intensely, his eyes oozing with lust, an expression that you had never expected to see from him.

"Y/N. I'm still a man, and if you kept on teasing me, this would happen to you."

He smashed his lips against yours for a hungry kiss. You moaned against his mouth, pressing your breast against his chest as you felt yourself get wetter.

End of Flashback

You've found yourself panting as you move yourself grinding against Kyojuro's hard cock. He was holding you by the waist, digging his nails into your skin as pleasure engulfed him.

Kyojuro pulled out for a moment to take off your clothes, almost ripping them. You moaned as he bit playfully on your now-exposed tits. "Umai, you taste so good, baby." He said this, licking your nipples as he cupped your ass and squeezed it.

You tugged on his hair and rubbed your wet, clothed cunt against his hard cock. Kyojuro wanted to feel you more, so he made you stand up and pulled your shorts down with your pants. You also helped him free his hardened cock as you marvelled at how big it was. With its girth, you felt like wanting to just spread yourself for him.

Kyojuro pulled you down on his lap once again and positioned himself at your entrance. "Do you want to continue, baby?" He said with his deep voice, making you almost cum there and then. You nodded and slowly went down, taking in his length. A moan of pleasure escaped both of your lips as you pushed yourself to go down on him, balls deep.

"Uh fuck! So tight!" Kyojuro said it made you feel more aroused. Finally, at the end of a long day, his cock is inside yours, and you crave it so desperately.

"Move for me, Y/N."

Kyojuro said, more like ordered, taking control even if he is under you. So you did; you moved up and down on his cock, slowly at first, letting him adore your sight.

Kyojuro kissed you passionately again, with his tongue exploring your mouth. He thrust with your rhythm, making you feel a growing pleasure at the pit of your stomach. While fucking your cunt, your history professor suddenly carried you and placed you on the couch.

He lifted one of your thighs and thrust deeper than before, nearly knocking you unconscious with pleasure. Kyojuro used his other hand to play with your breast, making sure it wouldn't feel neglected as he fucked you hard.

"Sensei, I'm almost there!" You almost shouted, which made Kyojuro also feel his body heating up. He kissed you, making you shut up, and the movements of his hips became slower, but his cock went deeper into your womb as he finally released his cum within you.

Kyojuro fell over your body, and you embraced him. "Sensei..." you muttered between your pants. Kyojuro finally looked up at you with his owl eyes and kissed your cheek. He pulled out and used his discarded shirt to wipe you clean.

"Sorry, I came inside you, Y/N."

"I loved it, sensei."

Kyojuro smiled at you and carried you towards your bedroom. He placed you down and sat down beside you, not caring if both of you were still naked right now.

He pulled a blanket over your body and looked away.

"Y/N, I'm sorry if I let my emotions control me. I'm older than you. I'm also your professor."

"Why? Do you regret it, Kyojuro?" You said, making him look back at you. "What if the uni knows?"

"Why would we let them know?" You said that, running your fingers along his back. Kyojuro sighed and finally laid down beside you. "I always wanted you." He muttered, caressing your cheek. You blushed.

"I also do. So please, stop feeling guilty, Kyo."

"Yes baby." He said he was pulling you into another kiss.

And there, you decided to go out, keeping this sensitive detail from the university.

--

Days later, Kyojuro called you into his classroom again. He was sitting, patting his lap, in the same position as he did the night before you first made love.

"I guess it's time for your special class, Y/N."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔!

But yeaaah! If you don't like this kind of theme, don't read XD

So there, see you on the Tengen version~ I'll try to make them hotter if you like XD It'll be up this Monday so be on the lookout!

Reblogs, Comments, and Requests are highly appreciated! Love you!

MDNI!

Ja ne~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐳𝐮𝐢 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐈𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[softpascalito]

Pedro Pascal x Reader - Here with me

Summary: During his time in Morrocco, Pedro finds himself in need of reassurance. You are happy to help.

Relationships: Pedro Pascal x Reader

WC: ~1200

Tags/Warnings: RPF, Gender-Neutral Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pedro is a softie in this, the morroco pics made me do it, pedro pascals cream-colored hat, age differene (not specified), insecurities

AO3 LINK

Notes:

i hope yall like this! it is my first time posting a pedro work so id love to hear your thoughts on it <3 also watch me settle the six pack debate through the power of fanfiction.

_________________________________________________________

“I look stupid.” He muttered under his breath as he stood in front of the mirror. You weren't sure if he was talking to you or to himself. Still, you had caught every word.

“You do not look stupid.” “Fine, then I look- I don't know - bad.”

You sighed, finally turning your full attention towards the man you adored so much.

“You do not-” You crossed the bedroom in a few strides until you were behind him and could gently brush your hand over his back:” look stupid or bad-” He opened his mouth to protest but you immediately cut him off:” or whatever other similar attributes you have prepared.”

Pedro grumbled but it soon turned into a soft sigh as you carefully brushed the wrinkles out of his white tee and stood on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder, glancing at him in the mirror. He looked more than good, in your opinion. His skin was sunkissed, the colorful trunks went well with the basic shirt, he had put on some comfy sneakers and the light fedora he'd brought from Los Angeles. His hair was still a little messy after the shower you had shared and bits of it stuck out below his hat, making him all the more adorable.

You pressed a small kiss to his shoulder, just below his neck. The skin was soft and warm, having absorbed the sun throughout the long day you had spent exploring the streets of Morocco.

“You were so excited about bringing the hat when we packed, baby.” You mumbled to him, searching for his gaze through the mirror in front of you. He still didn't look at you, his eyes instead wandering over his body once more. Your lips were still on his skin and the vibrations of your voice carried into it as you spoke:” What's going on?” Pedro let out another small sigh:” Its nothing, I'm sorry. Just a long week.”

You knew shooting had been draining, the long hours combined with the physicality of the role and the heat- you admired how well he coped with it. Then again, maybe he didn't. Very gently, you stepped back and lowered your heels to the floor, returning to your normal height. You placed a hand on either side of his hips and slowly nudged him to turn around until he was fully facing you. Your left hand stayed on his hip while your right one wandered up to cup his face. He hadn't shaved in a while and you ran your thumb over his beard.

“What's going on?” You asked again, gazing up at him. You both knew he couldn't resist opening up to you. Not when you were looking at him like that. The words almost tumbled out of his mouth.“I just want to go somewhere without it ending up on social media. I want to go out with unwashed hair and a stained shirt and not worry about repeating an outfit or looking stupid or old or-” You shushed him gently, your hand still caressing his cheek.

“Baby, you can. Noone will mind, I promise.” He still looked doubtful. You didn't want to push him but at the same time you felt like you wanted to get to the bottom of this. You knew he needed the reassurance.

“You're afraid you'll look old?” He shrugged a little but it was accompanied by a small nod. So, that was it. “Can I ask something?” Your thumb had begun to draw circles on his cheek and he gave another silent nod.

“Are you scared that someone will think you're old?” You paused for a moment:” Or are you scared I will?”

His large brown eyes finally met yours and-

Oh.

Pedro barely had time to react as you leaned up and pressed a desperate kiss to his lips, trying to convey how much you adored him, making up for the words you couldn't find. He wrapped his arms around you, almost protectively and it suddenly occurred to you that he must've had that thought for a while.

“Pedrito, I- I don't think that.” You mumbled:” What makes you think I do? And don't say it was the stupid hat, you've worn that before.” He kissed you again, buying some time before he had to reply. “When we were at the beach a few weeks ago and I didn't have my reading glasses with me.” You knew exactly what he meant. And you immediately felt guilty. It had been a rare day off for the two of you and you'd decided to pack up some towels, books and snacks and spend the day at the beach. And then he had realized that he'd forgotten his reading glasses. And you had teased him about it.

“Baby, I didn't mean- Why didn't you say anything?” You asked quietly. You had pulled back a little more, to properly study his face. Just like you, he seemed to struggle with finding the right words. “I didn't want to make a whole deal about it. And I didn't- I didn't mind it. At first.” He explained gently. His voice was low and his gaze kept flickering away from your face:” I don't want you to miss out on things just because I, well, just because I'm older.” You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at that. Pedro stared at you like you had gone crazy:” What's so funny about that?” He demanded. You grinned up at him, your thumb still rubbing circles into his skin:” I'm not some rich Hollywood guy with a fancy yacht. I'm not going to trade you in for some young hunk with a six pack.”

You could tell he still tried to look a little mad but the corners of his lips curled a little as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his smile. That earned him another small laugh from you. “With this role, I might have a six pack soon, you know.” He teased as he finally looked down at you again. Your hand that had rested on his hips slowly moved under his shirt, finding his small, soft belly.

”As long as it makes for a comfortable pillow, I don't mind either.”

That elicited a small smile from Pedro. He watched your expression closely as you shifted, turning a little more serious. “I knew how old you were when we started dating. In fact, I'm pretty sure I knew before that.” You said gently:” I don't mind. I want to be with you. Siempre.” Your thumb had found the small, bald spot in his beard and rested in it for a moment. They fit perfectly. “Okay.” He whispered. And then it was his turn to try and convey an emotion he couldn't quite grasp with a kiss.

You understood.

After a while, you pulled back and studied his face for a moment, the way his eyes seemed a little watery, the shape of his nose, his slightly reddened lips. You smiled.

“If you wear the hat, I'll wear the dress.” It took him only a second to catch on:” The yellow one?” He asked, his face lighting up at the idea. ”The yellow one.” You confirmed.

You'd never seen him wear a hat with more pride.

[imiya]

Tilly & Finley Wild Manes Review

since i got a hold of these girlies lets investimigate- apologies for overexposure

first, individual pics of each of them. here's finley:

who is themed after a pool party, of course. when i bought her at target, the self checkout display called her Isla, which makes sense as a working name for her... island.

she is white with grey hooves and a muzzle. she has blue eyeshadow with green eyes and blonde eyebrows, matching her blonde hair with a purple streak.

i will color correct these photos for the wiki, but for now, here's the raw photo of her clothes

all of the clothes are unhemmed and simply printed-on fabric with two velcro connections. my finley also had a plastic tab keeping the front attatched (which i snipped so i could remove it). you can see her mermaid tail and flamingoes on her clothes. the clothing is very thin, i don't think it might fray any time soon, but it does seem lazy for a fashion horse toy. thankfully, the hair makes up for it, we'll get there later.

each of these horses came with a brush and a non-brush accessory. finley's is wearable! she has a visor made with this magenta translucent plastic. i didn't take any pictures of it on her, but it does indeed fit on her head.

she comes with this purple brush, which you can tell is hers because of the flamingo printed on it.

and now a quick tilly rundown...

she's a brown horse with a brown muzzle and hooves, red eyeshadow, yellow eyes, and blonde eyebrows. her hair is more of a dirty blonde than finley, and her color streak is described as "periwinkle". the self checkout register called her Serena, which... yeah, i can see why they may have changed that. a little on the nose.

as you can see by her brush's symbol, she's very clearly tennis-themed. her accessory is unfortunately not wearable, instead it's a water bottle with a tennis racket printed on

horse gotta hydrate

if that all wasn't clear enough, her outfit has a tennis racket on it, too! there is no hemming, the "collar" is printed on. her outfit looks like a blue polo and a teal skirt.

okay, now the part people actually wanted to see. what the heck the figures look like

it's gettin' hot in here, so take off all your clothes...

both finley and tilly have the same exact model! i assume the horses (ponies? horses. fillies?) all have the same bodies. i think i can feel a few spots where the plastic feels slightly more rubbery/pliable than the others, so i do fear we may see discoloration as time goes on.

all of the legs are articulated at the shoulder or "hip" (sorry horse fans, it's a knee or something?), but only the front left leg is articulated in multiple places.

thank you girls, finley has her leg fairly straightened out whereas tilly has it bent. i haven't noticed the joints being unusually difficult to maneuver or maintain position, which bodes well for pictures. i did have a little bit of trouble getting them to balance in my photobox (likely because the bottom bows inwards a bit), but the little extra range of motion is nice. you can also twist the joints a little bit, but not super extremely.

but can she sit?

sort of? i know horses don't really naturally "sit" very well, but she still looks goofy. her neck doesn't move forwards so it's not a very great-looking pose for her to hold, but she can balance like this on her own.

hey, look at me when i'm talkin to you

thanks. side view of her in that same pose.

her head can turn, it's on a ball join, i believe it's similar to the g4.5/g5 mlp joints but a little more restrictive. i intend to dismantle a finley for research, so ill be able to share that when the time comes. it can rotate and move up and down slightly.

more motion... one of the back legs is in a mid-walk position which made her a little awkward to balance. you can see the company name and "made in china" stamp on the inside of this leg.

it's not very clear in this image, but there's a stamp with numbers and letters on her stomach. i don't know what this means, as finley had the same code! you can also see the hooves have horseshoes with "WM" (wild manes) on them.

before we get into the manes of the wild manes, a quick little look at their eyes.

the paint looks great! it's not stippled like i've seen on a few other dolls recently. the eyes are also sculpted in, so we hopefully won't have wild misplacement like we do on the newer MLPs. they both have stars and two eye shines, and the eyelashes are the same. the only differences here are the colors.

okay. mane time.

the hair is SUPER soft. i agree with the replier who said it's Kiwi Nylon. i am very happy that the hair is so nice and hope that the others in this set are the same way! the way it's packaged in the box makes it so there are three or four rubber bands holding it in place, and it leaves the hair with the "memory" of that. i did wash and condition the hair in these photos, which also seemed to help with the small qualms i had with the hair right out of the box. it seemed a little oily and tilly had a doubled-over plug. finley didn't seem to have any rooting troubles!

all of the hair is a few rows up the back of the head with a section for bangs. you can see that they wove tilly's bangs with the longer hair that's part of her mane to hide the parting in her head, which is likely expected for a doll but a cool detail. her bangs are NOT gelled down!

here you can see five to six rows of hair on the back of the head. it's not a lot of surface area, but the hair seems thickly rooted for what it is!

here i've parted the mane on Finley so you can see the hair a little more clearly. it looks like the streaks of hair are only on the outside of the rooting.

i've been a little afraid to peel back finley's bangs lest they become unsalvagable, but here's finley's bangs peeled back.

there's still a few rows here. when i dismantle her, hopefully i can showcase her rooting pattern more clearly.

i think that's all the pictures i've taken of them so far... i got these girls at Target, and you can order them as well as Bailey and Cocoa off their site right now! i'll be updating the fandom wiki with pictures of the accessories and hopefully the rest of the girls are as high quality as these ones!

[yooniesim]

I'm sitting here thinking about a pretty age-old debate on simblr... the race of sims that have black hairstyles, particularly in cc preview pics.

I know it's been talked about repeatedly, but when it comes to cc previews for paid cc I think it's especially worth talking about. Some people say, well, the creator only uses a few different sim models each time, it's not like they're intending to be racist or something. It's just for convenience, because they're busy, they're hustling, they gotta pay their bills. They always use the same sim, so it's fine. But like... isn't that gross to y'all? Someone making money off of black hairstyles, but they can't even be assed to go in cas for 15 mins to make a black sim? Isn't that a prime example of appropriation of black culture for profit? Like the human aspect of us as a person is gone, it's just another part of us being advertised and sold. Black hair makes money, black hair cc is limited, it will sell and nothing else matters. It feels like black hairstyles are some kind of trend with them too, because none of these creators made them before it was possible to profit off of them... back then it was "too hard" just like now it's apparently "too hard" to make a different preview sim.

Also, it's not lost of me that when a creator does make a black sim for their previews, they're as light skinned and white looking as possible. Whether just by skintone, very eurocentric features (like they just gave a white sim slightly darker skin), vitiligo to make most of the skin light, or claiming the sim has albinism. And while some of this I'm sure is just finding that aesthetic more "pretty", I also think this has to do with potential sales. I'm going to be honest... besides engagement by black simblr itself, I've noticed a lot of posts I have get less engagement/reblogs if the sim in question has darker skin and darker hair. It's much more likely to pick up in the mainstream cc finds blogs/YouTube videos etc, if the content is for white sims or the sim has lighter skin and light hair. I don't care about engagement and simply make whatever sim I want to make, and since I do have that variety, it's how I noticed this strange trend. And with the volume of content paywall creators make, I think they noticed this too. Posts with lighter skinned sims get better engagement, and thus, make more money.

Have you ever noticed, even in paywalled cc packs, there will usually be a sort of token effect? One white sim, one ethnically ambiguous sim, one black sim. This is great if you're showing off something that will vary for different skintones- makeup and skin details, for example- but why is it always like this? And why is the variety usually only in previews for cc packs instead of solo items (like hairs)? It feels like it's all to sell better, to appeal to different demographics and say, hey, I didn't forget poc exist! Please pay for my content! It feels disgenuine, and since creators like this rarely engage with the community anymore besides paid content, it's hard to figure out whether they feel this way or not.

Personally, I don't care much what people do in their own games- I might look at them weird for a sec, but I move on, cos it's their issue not mine. But like many other aspects to this community, when it crosses over into paid content, it sparks my interest. It feels like everything, everything, is about maximizing profit now. And for the people that focus on that, that's their prerogative and all, I can't exactly stop them, but. It's just something I observed and wouldn't mind discussing with y'all.

(Note: I don't apply the "profiting off black culture" part to black creators, obviously. Also no hate to any creators that do this stuff. Be reasonable adults, please. I'm just discussing in a constructive criticism type of way.)