#unexpected miniseries

[rooftop--runner]

I think I’m finally starting to get to the issues of Archie that aren’t just Saturday morning cartoon plots! (whether that’s for better or worse, I’m not sure yet)

[flemingology]

L is for the way you look at me ─ alexia putellas x reader

part 1 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!

in which: you meet Alexia through your work, but things take an unexpected turn

warnings: nothing i can think of, but there must be something with this being 9k words. so let me know if there's anything worth mentioning lol. fluffy though!

wc: 8.8k

an: put my whole writerussy in this series. it'll come out on a weekly basis, every sunday for the next 4 weeks. will run simultaneously with the rest of my christmas series! i hope you enjoy <3

Your tires kicked up some gravel as your car came to a halt on the parking spot next to the sports complex. You leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a deep sigh, letting the silence overcome you for a second. You bathed in the comfort of your own car and tried to come to your senses, before what would be one of the biggest moments in your professional career as an interior architect so far. Scratch that. Biggest moment, for sure. Nothing had ever been bigger or more important than this.

It was early January when you initially got the call from your boss. You were at home, working on some 3D blueprints for a new apartment complex that was being built in the city centre. Not your most exciting project, but that’s the price you paid for working in a metropolis like Barcelona. Deadlines coming thick and fast, it meant that you were severely overworked, but clients weren’t waiting. Residents weren’t waiting, either. So you worked. You worked early, worked late, worked at home, worked in the office. You’d always been career-oriented, though, so you were never going to complain, not with the opportunities your perseverance had given you already. But you wouldn’t have dared to dream about this next one, even in your wildest dreams.

Your phone shook you up from your thoughts, head deep in a few finishing touches on an elevator blueprint when your ringtone sounded through your apartment. You rolled and stretched your neck in a futile attempt to release some of the tension there, before picking up the device and bringing it to your ear.

“Y/n, I’m gonna get right down to business. I’ve got an opportunity for you that you’re not going to want to turn down.”

A combination of words you’d normally be very excited about, but with the amount of work you already had on your plate, you weren’t quite sure about that. Endless to-do lists were scattered around your apartment and you were already struggling to meet all the deadlines set, so taking something else up would definitely set you back for a good couple months on multiple projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath before you replied, solely a hum.

“Look, I know you’re busy. You have a whole load on your plate right now, but if you take this, I’ll take care of the rest. We will redistribute the work. But this is once in a lifetime. And I want my best employee on it.”

You were taken aback by his words, your boss never one to willingly move work around from employee to employee once a project had been started. Your interest was piqued, so you decided to bite.

“Alright, you got me. Shoot.”

“We’ve been asked to design a new training complex for the Barcelona Women’s team.”

-

The best part of 8 months later, here you finally were. Sat outside the complex, in your car, taking a couple more moments before throwing yourself in the deep end. You had worked relentlessly on this project. If you thought you were working hard before, you’d found a new gear that left all your previous years in your professional career in the dust. You were the only designer on the project, meaning that a lot of the work fell on your shoulders and yours only in the initial phases of the process.

You were fatigued, from a lack of sleep as much as physically. You couldn’t remember how many all-nighters you pulled in trying to get the design over the line by the deadline. You experienced heightened anxiety and stress over the course of multiple months, only adding to the already overbearingly heavy weight on your shoulders. You got obsessive with it, as you always did, danced on the brink of a burn-out at some points, but you promised yourself it would pay off. Nothing would ever come close to the feeling of professional success. And you hoped, for the love of God, that you could deliver tonight. That everyone was happy with the complex, that your tour would go seamlessly, and that you had another thing to tick off in your long bucket-list of working as an interior architect. You took a couple more composing breaths in the driver seat of your car, checking your appearance a final time and attempted yourself at a pep-talk before you opened the door of your car and stepped out into the heat of the Spanish capital.

You’d seen it before, given the tour to your imaginary guests more often than you could count, but now, in Barcelona’s glistening afternoon sun, it really came into its own. The complex stands tall, but it exudes a sense of openness. It’s large, commanding, but not intimidating. Towering windows scratch across its surface, a feature that you’d grown to love across your visits to the facility. It allows plenty of natural light to pour in, the building strategically positioned so it would catch most of the afternoon sun. The entrance is wide, inviting, but nothing short of impressive. A set of smooth, glass doors that reach high, transparent so they give you a view of the lobby. The first feeling that comes over you is relief. You had seen the structure plenty of times, but with the prospect of having to guide the clients around later, it’s reassuring that you still feel excited and accomplished about your work. You approach the building, deciding to wait for the rest of your clients by the entrance.

You didn’t have to wait long, two black Cupras soon arriving at the facility after you made your way over. You weren’t fully aware how many people of the club were going to be present, but you’d tried to prepare yourself. Nine people though, that was kind of cutting it. Five people exited the first vehicle, another four quickly following short out of the other. Nine. If you weren’t nervous before, you surely were then.

The introductions went by in a flurry, but you tried your absolute best to remember the name and functions of every suited or dressed man or woman that had just shook your hand. Joan, president of the club. Pere, head coach. Marc, financial director. Lucia, facilities manager. There was one amongst them, though, that didn’t need an introduction. Not to you. Not to anyone. And really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you that they brought a player. If anyone has to approve of the facilities, it’s the players themselves.

“Alexia. Nice to meet you.” “Y/n. Likewise.”

She gave you a firm handshake, her eyes holding yours just a second too long, and you swear, you could feel it—that spark, that something. But before you could question it, she’d already let go of your hand and joined the rest of her people. You were well aware who she was, well aware of what she meant in the world of football, but you weren’t taken aback. It was nothing more than a crossover between two people doing their jobs, and you weren’t gonna have someone like her intimidate you and throw you off your path for the rest of the afternoon. Not with the importance of this project for the future of your career.

You clapped your hands when everyone seemed to have taken their first looks at the building from the inside. “Okay! Shall we?” You mustered up the brightest smile you had in your locker, silently wishing that the nerves would settle down as soon as you got into your element inside.

“Okay, so, the main entrance. I didn’t want to have too much going on in here, more going for a calm atmosphere. Reception in the middle, and then there’s really only one hall here, leading you towards the rest of the facility.”

The entrance was, as you described, calm. It had some lounge seats here and there but you couldn’t imagine many people spending lots of time here, so you kept the extras limited. A few acknowledging and appreciating hums from your tiny crowd sent you on your way, your nerves slowly but surely ebbing away.

You slowly guided your guests towards the hallway, letting them take in the interior and space for as long as they wanted until they seemed ready to continue the tour. “On the left, first and foremost, the changing room. I thought it was handy for it to be near the entrance, as most of the players probably come straight here after arriving.”

You push open the double doors to the room, stepping aside and allowing the others to step in first. “As you can see, a large and accordingly illuminated space with rows of lockers, personalized for each player. Each locker has a charging station, storage for gear, and adjustable lighting, because who doesn’t hate bad lighting when trying to focus before a game?”

For the first time during the tour, someone spoke up then, and it wasn’t who you’d expect to take the floor first. “I’ll admit, I’m guilty of using mine as a mini closet sometimes. Good call with the extra storage.” Alexia’s admission caused some lighthearted laughs and chatter to rise from the small group of people, and you almost felt grateful for her comment. “I’m glad.” You mustered up a small but sincere smile, before turning back around and continuing your work.

You gestured towards the wall that wasn’t adorned with lockers. “The screens on here are meant for displaying tactics, team news, and whatever else you guys get up to on a day-to-day basis.” You were really coming into yourself and started to forget about the nerves of the moment. You were in your element, you were doing what you liked, what you had been doing for the past 7 years of your life. You weren’t gonna mess this up.

“Of course, showers are tucked around the corner. Communal shower room, as I’m sure you’re all familiar with. Physio beds, and everything else you would need for pre-activation before training are around the other corner. To integrate some options for relaxation, there are also some sofas in that room. I don’t know to which extent they will be used, but they’re there.”

Right as you were about to lead the group back out towards the next room, Pere spoke up. “I like the adjustable lighting. I think it’s something we struggled with at our previous facility. It was quite bright, and sometimes that’s not the vibe you want to create for your players. They need calm, especially after a training session. Good work on that one.” The man offered you a sincere smile and rested his hand on your shoulder for a split second, and you felt all warm inside at the acknowledgement of your work. You took it in your stride and continued the tour.

“Taking a left outside the locker room and moving down the hallway, it’ll take you into the tactical room. Meeting room, briefing room, whatever you want to call it. This room is more dimly lit, with one singular big screen on the wall for video analysis, powerpoint presentations, and so on. I think there’s about 30 seats, but I wasn’t quite sure on how many there would need to be, so if you need any more I can take care of those too.”

Pere and Alexia shared a look, before letting you know that 30 would be enough. “Now, moving on through the room, I designed a second section with more of a discussion place in mind. I opted for a round table, rather than a rectangular shape, because I feel like it invites more participation. A couple whiteboards here and there, but I’m sure you guys will find your own ways to use this room to your own liking.”

“There’s one thing, though, and I’m quite proud of that, if I may say so myself. One of these walls,” you started, tapping your finger on the back wall of the discussion room, “is a writable wall. You can write, pin notes, whatever you might need to brainstorm about your tactics.”

Pere’s voice sounded through the room as you finished your explanation. “So, Ale, no more scribbling on napkins during tactical meetings, huh?” You finally realized why one of your colleagues on the project was adamant about a certain type of soundproof walls for the room, because you were now grateful for the great acoustics as Alexia’s laugh sounded through the place. Suddenly, you noticed that one of the chairs around the table was slightly out of place. Your need for perfectionism rose up and as much as you wanted to leave it, to not fuss about a small detail like that, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, this chair is bothering me. Details matter, especially in places like these. Athletes notice more than they think they do.” You didn’t direct your statement towards anyone, but weren’t exactly surprised either when you heard Alexia’s voice in response. “We do? I just thought we used these rooms to throw our stuff around,” the Spaniard said with an amused, infuriatingly attractive smirk on her face. It was your turn to laugh now, and you weren’t the only one grateful anymore for the acoustics of the room.

You answered a couple questions and scribbled down a couple more suggestions from the rest of the staff, before making your way out of the discussion room and moving back towards the hallway. “Now, crossing the hallway, this is the treatment room.” There’s a calm atmosphere in the room, the soft hum of the lights the only sound as your clients take in their surroundings. “Plenty of massage tables in the middle of the room, some more space for pre-activation, shelves stretched across the walls with recovery tools. Around the corner, there’s a multifunctional hydrotherapy pool and an ice bath. These adjustable lights mimic natural daylight to help with recovery. I wanted to create a space where your body and mind can unwind together.”

“I imagine you will spend lots of your time here,” you smiled, gesturing towards one of the women that presented herself as one of the club’s physiotherapists.

“Yeah, this will be my safe haven. It’s great, honestly, better than I ever imagined. I was thinking whether there was something missing, but I can’t think of anything. You did great work.” You shot the woman, whose name you’d already forgotten, a bright smile and thanked her for the compliment. The moment was soon lost on you as you heard someone clear their throat.

“Yes, Alexia?” It was the first time you’d called the Barcelona captain by her first name that afternoon, and you were surprised at the ease it rolled off your tongue with. If Alexia was taken aback, she didn’t show it. “I’m gonna be annoying for a second. Wouldn’t it be tough for someone injured to reach that?” She pointed at the top shelves, where some of the recovery tools were stacked. You took a moment to yourself to think about her comment, before giving her a slight smile and nodding. “You’re right, thank you for noticing that.” You took out your notepad and scribbled something down, adding an exclamation mark or 5 to convey the importance of the task. The rest of the group had already moved back to the hallway, leaving you and Alexia to yourself for a little moment. You didn’t know where the flurry of confidence came from, but you grabbed it with both hands before it could slip away, leading to your next comment. “Good catch, captain.” Alexia grinned, a twinkle in her eyes as she met yours.

“You’re the expert, not me.” “Well, you’re the professional footballer amongst the two of us, so I think I could learn a thing or two still about the design of team facilities.” “You’re doing more than a good job so far. I’m positively surprised.”

You got pulled back to reality when you heard a laugh coming through the door from the hallway, reminding you of the fact that you were still working, still having to uphold a professional persona and make sure that the tour went well. This wasn’t the time and place to be making much small talk, let alone flirting. Could you even call it that? “Let’s move on, yeah?”

You lead your clients down the hall, opening the double doors that would lead to the gym. The space was just as you’d imagined it, and hearing the noises of appreciation from the people behind you, you knew you’d done a good job.

“I think this speaks for itself, really. Not entirely my area of expertise, not really one for dumbbells or barbells, but I think I got everything covered here,” you chuckled. “Resistance machines, cardio equipment, dumbbells, barbells and kettlebells. There’s also an area for stretching and functional training near the back of the room. I wanted this to be big, spacious, allowing lots of natural light in, because I know half of the training days are spent here. People tend to forget that.” 

“Dios mio, Pere, if I’m ever missing, just come find me in here. This place is a dream come true,” you heard Alexia say from across the room, letting her eyes rake over the abundance of equipment that was scattered all around the gym. You crossed the room and joined her, following her movements with your eyes as she explored more of the gym. “I think this wall here needs some more Barca colors, no?” You scoffed and shook your head slightly, but pulled out your notepad nonetheless. “Noted, but I think you’re biased. Lucky for you, I like your bias.” Alexia tilted her head at that. “Does that mean I get to say in the rest of the design too?” You knew what she was doing. And it was so wrong for you to be giving into it in this professional context, but the woman across from you was enticing and you couldn’t help but be flattered at the way she seemed to be flirting with you. “Now, don’t push your luck, Putellas.” With that, you turned on your heels and made your way back towards the front of the room, not wanting to give Alexia the satisfaction of seeing the crimson red color your cheeks had turned at the small interaction.

“Well, I think we’ve got one final room, then.” You lead your guests back through the doors of the gym. “Taking a right here, you’ll end up in the team lounge. A cozy space for bonding, relaxing, whatever you guys want to do here. There’s a coffee station, entertainment options like games and a big screen, beanbags scattered around the room, but you can fill it in the way you want, really. There’s lots of flexibility with this space.”

“A coffee station? That’s going to make you a lot of friends around here,” the ever-familiar voice behind you commented. “Honestly, the caffeine might be the most important design element in this building.”

You pointed at the seating arrangement. “I went for modular sofas so you can switch between team bonding sessions and personal space. As I said, I went for flexibility here.” Pere caught up to where you were walking and put his hand on your shoulder, just as he did earlier during the tour. “You thought of all the details, huh? Most people wouldn’t notice things like that.” You shrugged off the compliment. “It’s all in the details, I bet you know that just as well as I do.” The coach let out a warm laugh and you couldn’t help but feel accomplished, it meant the world to you that him and one of the most important players in his team felt right within the facility and were impressed with your designs.

“As for different rooms, that was it for the tour. The pitches are outside, but there’s nothing special about those. Feel free to check them out if you want. I’m gonna let you all wander around a bit now, and if you have any questions or remarks, please come to me. I’m all ears and I’m very open to feedback. I hope you’re all satisfied, though, because this project meant a lot to me and I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to have received this opportunity.”

What happened next, was the last thing you’d expected. The room went silent for a second, until you could hear a couple slow claps sounding through the room. They came from Alexia, who was ushering the other people in the room to give you an applause. Her colleagues followed shortly, and soon the room was filled with the sound of their clapping, all smiling brightly at you and sharing laughs with one another. You felt grateful, overwhelmed by your emotions, but you felt a huge weight fall off your shoulders at the acknowledgement.

It wasn’t until a couple minutes later, that Alexia found herself next to you again. Most of the people had wandered back through the corridors, checking out the rooms at their own pace. “So, how long did it take you to design this?” Alexia fell in step with you as you walked through the gym, mustering up ideas for the remark the Spaniard gave you earlier. “Uh, about 4 months for the main sections, and then a few extra weeks for the final touches. And then, a waiting game while it was being built. It’s a bit of a balancing act, you know?” Alexia smiled faintly at you before responding. “I imagine. It sounds like a lot, but it seems like you’ve got everything under control.” “I try to.”

It was about half an hour later, when you all found yourself back at the entrance. You received another couple compliments from several staff members that had come along, and it felt like every single one bolstered your outside a bit more and more, upping your confidence with each one, taking them all in your stride. You’d been nervous for this, had worked countless hours, days, weeks on this project, but it all felt worth it. It was the biggest project you’d ever worked on, but it turned out perfectly and you couldn’t have wished for a better outcome.

The sun had started to set over Barcelona now, golden hour casting the building in rays of orange. It felt symbolic, a perfect ending to what had been a greatly successful afternoon. Alexia had noticed your passion for your work throughout the tour, and it was safe to say that she admired it. “You care a lot about getting things right, don’t you?” “Of course. It’s important.” “It feels right… you being here. You doing this. I feel like you understand this place.”

Alexia’s words came right from the heart, her voice growing soft as she uttered the final couple words, and you felt a fuzzy feeling coursing through your body at the admission. You raised your eyes at her, curious where the sudden comment had come from. Alexia picked up on this, explaining herself further.

“Your dedication to your work, it just resonates with my dedication to mine. The team’s dedication. It feels good, this.” You weren’t sure what she was talking about anymore, whether that be the building, your commitment, or just this–– the situation you two found yourself in at the moment. You’d tried to keep up your professional demeanor throughout the tour, but the more heartfelt comments Alexia threw your way, the harder you found it to keep up the snarky remarks or shrugging off whatever she said.

“I don’t know the word… it’s like when you do something that makes sense, like…” “Purpose?” “Yeah, purpose.”

Alexia grew bashful quickly, a shy smile covering her face. “Sorry, my English isn’t quite there yet.” You waved away her apology and were grateful for the change of tone in the conversation, not quite sure you would be able to keep up your persona had she gotten much more open with you.

“Look, I have to go now. I can sense Pero is growing impatient in the car. But, look, uhm, I like how you understand this place. Would you maybe,” she clears her throat and looks down to the ground before finishing her sentence, “want to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

You should’ve expected it, really. The way she was throwing not-so-subtle flirty remarks at you throughout the tour, her demeanor growing in confidence the longer time went on, you should’ve known this was coming. Still, it swept you completely off your feet, and quite frankly, speechless. There wasn’t a single cell in your body that thought of denying her request. But somewhere, in the back of your mind, a little rational voice sounded, saying that you had to be professional. This was your work, her work, and mixing work and dates was never a good idea. So you took a deep breath, meeting her eyes again before you gave her the answer she probably wouldn’t have expected.

“Alexia, I’d love to. But, this is a professional work context.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you, a small smile hinting on one corner of her mouth, and you couldn’t help the confusion that came across you. “Guapa, you are the one assuming that we are going on a date. I proposed it just to, you know, discuss insights about the building.” Your cheeks burned bright red at her words, and there was no way to escape the situation now. The taller woman in front of you let out a laugh, throwing her head back and if it weren’t for the twinkle of adoration in her eyes when her gaze met yours again, you would’ve thought she was laughing at you. “No, I get you. But look, I’ll make it worth your while. Just give me one chance, okay? You can’t deny the… how do you say, chemistry?” You nodded bashfully at the Spaniard, knowing she was completely right. You had tried your hardest to remain professional, but it grew harder and harder not to open up more of yourself to the footballer. “Look, if you don’t want a coffee, how about you come to the game tomorrow? You’ve done so much for us, you should come see what you’ve worked for these past couple months. My family can’t make it this week, so I’ve got plenty of tickets for you and anyone else you want to bring.”

That sounded like a better suggestion, all in all. If anything, you could now paint it down as just a friendly invitation to thank you for your work, and you didn’t have to think of it as a date. Although, even with what you said, you weren’t opposed to that idea either. “That sounds fair. You owe me a good performance, though” you quipped back, not letting her off the hook that easily. She had made you blush, but you weren’t gonna let her walk over you like that. “Only if you come to dinner after.” And just like that, she’d turned the whole situation around again. Infuriating. Infuriatingly attractive. “We’ll see.”

-

You struggle on deciding what to wear that day. Torn between trying to look put-together and not wanting to look like you’re trying too hard, you eventually settle on something practical but nice– enough to look professional, but not too casual. Because in the end, it’s just a game, right? Just Alexia Putellas casually inviting you to see her in her element, no big deal. And dinner. Maybe.

The journey to the stadium went smoother than expected. You’d left more than early enough, and had just about beat the flurry of afternoon traffic, as you arrived at Estadi Johan Cruyff. This is as far as outsides of comfort zones went. This was not your usual surroundings. You were a homebody, either working or relaxing, you weren’t one for the big events. Let alone sporting events. You weren’t at home in this setting, but you couldn’t help but feel an excitement bubbling up inside you as you noticed the heaps of fans dressed in blaugrana jerseys, waving flags and scarves, all coming to see their idols on a sunbathed afternoon in the Spanish capital. Nerves bubble up the closer you get to the stadium, and you tried to ground yourself by taking a couple deep breaths before taking the plunge.

You’d remembered the instructions Alexia sent you over text on how to get to her friends and family box. She asked for your number at some point that day before, and brushed it off as practicality for today’s game, but you knew somewhere that that wasn’t the last time you’d hear of her. The moment you arrive in her box overwhelms you. There’s a couple other people, and you get a sudden burst of nerves thinking about having to introduce you as… well, as what? The interior architect of her new team facilities? You were well aware of how weird that sounded. But they paid you no mind, so you thanked your lucky stars when you found your seat without all too much fuss and settled down for the next couple hours.

The crowd, the noise, there was a buzzing atmosphere around the stadium and it was such a stark contrast to the environment you’d been in yesterday. The stadium felt alive. As much as you weren’t a football or sports fan in general, you finally understood why people liked going to games. You took in your environment, scanning the crowd. A man singing at the top of his lungs, seemingly the person that needed to get the chants going. A little girl in a jersey three sizes too big, on her father’s shoulders, holding a sign that said: “Alexia, mi heroina”. A group of teenagers finding their seats right underneath the box, faces painted with stripes, yelling things you didn’t quite understand, because God forbid you were consistent with your Spanish classes. A mixed smell of popcorn, churros and questionable hotdogs suddenly hit you like a wall. It was chaos, but it seemed like the people here thrived on it. Suddenly, you couldn’t believe having missed out on this element of the city for so long. Of course, you were well aware that Barcelona had two successful, thriving first teams. You just couldn’t be bothered. Now, though, it felt like your whole world had turned upside down at the revelation of how fun this was.

As much as Alexia insisted on you bringing someone, for your own company, you didn’t. It felt too much like using her, not wanting to overstep boundaries on this first meeting. Second, in theory. But now, as you were sat here in the stadium, crowd so loud their hum vibrated in your chest, maybe you wouldn’t have minded someone else here to share the experience with. Then again, bringing someone would’ve made this feel more like a… thing. And you didn’t know whether you were ready to accept this being a thing, yet. Your thoughts circled back to Alexia, the woman you were here for in the first place. Would she be nervous now? Of course not. She was in the locker room right now, already zoned in and focused. Professional. Unlike you, who was sitting here, overthinking what a stupid invitation to a game might mean. Still, there was something about being here– her stadium, her world, that made you feel closer to her. Like it was a glimpse into the pieces of herself she didn’t give away so easily. They were all here for her, but you were invited by her. It felt different.

What you didn’t expect, at all, was your phone to chime with a message from her.

From: Alexia You here yet?

You quickly typed back a response, figuring she didn’t have much time to be on her phone. They were due for warm-ups anytime soon now.

To: Alexia: Yeah, just found my seat. Thank you :) It’s chaos out here, damn

From: Alexia Good chaos. You’ll see. Enjoy it, I’ll find you after

It’s as if Alexia’s words had a soothing effect on you, because as soon as you tucked your phone back away you relaxed, sitting back against your seat and letting the experience roll over you.

The Barca girls came out for warm-ups, and you couldn’t help but admire them. The players moved across the pitch with this kind of effortless precision that made it all look simple, though you knew it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell who was who at first, not even you lack of football knowledge, but there were so many of them, a blur of navy shorts and bright orange bibs weaving in and out of each other as the ball zipped between them.

You weren’t looking for her. At least, you told yourself you weren’t. But somehow, your eyes kept finding her anyway. You caught a flash of blonde hair and noticed the distinctive way she carried herself on the pitch. She wasn’t doing anything else than the others– passing, moving, stretching. But she stood out. There was something about her, even from a distance, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was like your eyes gravitated towards her naturally, without you guiding them. 

The Alexia you’d walked the tour with, who’d thrown you teasing smiles and leaned a little too close when you said goodbye, was gone. Out here, she was something entirely different– serious, focused, untouchable. She hadn’t looked up once, her eyes not searching yours, and you would feel apprehensive about it if you didn’t remember the look she had in her eyes when she invited you. After all, why would she? She had a job to do. This was her thing, as much as yesterday was yours.

You weren’t the only one watching her, obviously. You could hear little bursts of her name from the fans sitting nearby, the occasional shriek of excitement when she touched the ball during a drill. She was theirs and they were hers in a way I couldn’t quite wrap my head around, but it was beautiful. Alexia is Barca and Barca is Alexia, right?

It wasn’t long then until the game started, you got lost in your own thoughts a little bit and you were now mere seconds away from kick-off. The pitch looked impossibly green under the floodlights– that were turned on way too early, but you guessed it was better to be safe than sorry. Players were scattered around it, waiting for the signal from the referee that they could get their game going. The energy of the crowd built like a wave, rolling through the stands. People were on their feet, clapping, yelling. You didn’t know the chants, but you felt a tingle inside of you urging you to clap along, the energy of the crowd too enticing not to.

As the whistle blew to signal kick-off, the energy in the stadium shifted. You didn’t expect it to hit you like that, the way the crowd seemed to breathe, shift, move as one organism. It was overwhelming in the best way. You weren’t here to watch anyone in particular, you told yourself. You were just going to enjoy the experience, the place, to see it all in action. But once again, as soon as the ball was in play, you found yourself watching her. Tracking the way she moved, the way she gracefully handled the ball, the way she always seemed two steps ahead of everyone else.

Out here, she was undeniable. There was a precision to the way she played, a quiet authority that made it impossible to look away. It wasn’t just that she was good– and realistically, that played a huge part, it was the way she made everything look so effortless, like she’d orchestrated the entire game in her head before anyone else knew what was happening.

You were deep into the first half when the play stalled, and for the first time all game, the noise of the crowd dulled in your ears. Alexia was in the middle of the action, barking instructions to her teammates– sharp, no-nonsense commands you couldn’t hear from up there but you could feel all the same. Her gestures were deliberate, decisive, and when she pointed towards the flank, her teammates took off without hesitation.

There was something magnetic about it, about the way she owned the field without ever raising her voice too much, the way her team fell in line like clockwork because she was the one pulling the strings. Captain’s armband snug around her bicep, confidence looked good on her. It wasn’t flashy or loud, but it was undeniable.

Your eyes lingered on her a little longer than they should have, when play resumed. The way her jersey clung to her shoulders and arms wasn’t helping either. You shifted in your seat, tearing your gaze away, but the thought was already there, uninvited and impossible to ignore. You’d listen to whatever she told you to do too.

Heat rushed to your face at the realization so quickly it nearly made you feel dizzy. Nope. Absolutely not. You took a deep breath and focused back on the game, on the fluid football that was being portrayed by the girls in blaugrana. Professional. You are professional. And you are definitely not thinking about what it would be like to hear that voice closer. Louder. DIrected at you.

Saved by the bell. Or the half-time whistle. Saved by something, thank God. That’s what you thought. As the players made their way toward the tunnel, your eyes found her again. She was talking to one of her teammates, gesturing animatedly about something, but just before she disappeared into the tunnel, she glanced towards her box. It was quick, so quick you almost missed it, but your heart skipped a beat anyway. You told yourself she wasn’t looking for you. Why would she?

During half-time, a kid sitting a couple rows in front of you caught your eye. He was shouting all of the players names, his little voice full of excitement. He was waving a jersey, one with the number 4 on the back, and even though they couldn’t hear him right now, tucked away in the building, it struck you how loved they all were. How much they all meant to these people. You caught yourself smiling at the kid’s enthusiasm. At the player’s impact. It was hard not to feel drawn into it.

The second half went by quicker than the first. You’d settled, and you were starting to feel more like yourself the more time went on. Barcelona scored thrice in the second half, effectively beating their opponents 3-0. Alexia hadn’t scored, but she’d assisted the final goal and you felt a weird sense of pride overcome you as her cross was headed in by one of her teammates. The final whistle pierced the air, and with it came an eruption of cheers from the stands. Another win, another three points, and they deserved every ounce of the applause raining down on them.

Alexia didn’t jump into the celebration like some of her teammates did, instead staying composed as she clapped for the fans along with her friends, her captain’s demeanor shining through even in victory. For a second, she looked toward the family box, her gaze skimming across the seats. You thought to yourself that she might be looking for you, but as soon as it arose, you brushed it away, even though your stomach fluttered at the thought.

And then, like she’d heard your internal thoughts, answering the unspoken question, she lifted a hand in a small wave. Subtle, unnoticeable for anyone that wasn’t watching, but it was definitely there. You gave her a small wave back, and you wondered if anyone had noticed the small interaction between the two of you. This wasn’t the time to raise any suspicions, and even though no one’s eyes were on you, you felt like a spotlight had just been shone directly on you. You thought that was gonna be it, but then she stepped away from the group of her teammates for a second, and made a phonecall motion with her hands. You gave her a thumbs up in response, in hindsight probably not the most flattering thing, but it would do the job.

It wasn’t long after the team disappeared back into the tunnel that your phone buzzed in the pocket of your jacket.

From: Alexia I’m gonna get a quick shower, but I want to see you :) Meet me outside by the parking lot in 20 minutes?

A bashful smile grew on your face as you read her text, the casual tone doing little to mask the effect it had on you.

To: Alexia Yes, of course! Just gotta tell me how to get there

Alexia sent you on your way with a couple directions and off you went, not bothering to wait another 20 minutes in your seat, trying to avoid any possibility of you being late in the parking lot. The chill of the evening air hit you as you stepped outside of the stadium, as if inside there was a personal bubble of warmth created for the team. You crossed the main parking lot, that was surprisingly quiet. Most fans still lingering inside or making their way out through the main exits.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the meeting spot, a secluded parking are for the players. It was even quieter there, and every little sound seemed amplified in your ears.

Alexia took 17 minutes after sending you her post-match text. Not that you had been counting, or anything. She stepped out of the building, freshly showered and dressed in a Barca tracksuit. Her confident and vibrant energy from the pitch faltered slightly, but you still warmed up at the sight of her. Her hair still damp from her shower, duffle bag slung over her shoulder, walking over to you with an easy stride, as if she’d done this a thousand times before. She broke out in a wide smile as she approached you.

“Hey,” she started, her voice low and warm, “thanks for waiting.” You chuckled and waved away her comment, a little awkward silence forming between the two of you that you tried not to get in your head about, before making a remark about the game. “You played well. All of you, really. It was… impressive to watch. Thank you for the ticket.”

“Are you saying that because you mean it, or because I’m standing here?” Alexia teased. She hadn’t changed a single thing from her demeanor yesterday, still as flirty and making teasing remarks. “Maybe both.” Alexia let out a soft laugh, and even without soundproof walls and good acoustics, it still wrapped around you like a warm blanket in the chilly evening air.

She grew sincere then, her eyes softening a bit. “Hey, thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.” You were taken aback a little by her words, a little sense of insecurity creeping through her voice. “Honestly, for a long time I wasn’t sure either, but I’m glad I did. It just… didn’t know if I should.” The Barcelona captain frowned at that, tilting her head slightly. “Why not?” You knew the question was coming, so you shrugged and gave her your response with a small smile on your face.

“Maybe because this feels… I don’t know, different? You’re… you.” “I’m me?” “You’re Alexia Putellas. Everyone in that stadium was looking at you tonight. And now here I am, standing in a parking lot with you, wondering why you’d want to see me of all people.” “And yet, here you are. Doesn’t that say something?”

You locked eyes for a moment, a brief pause in the conversation and the air between you both changed with unspoken words. Alexia’s expression softens further, her confident demeanor giving way for something vulnerable, something you hadn’t seen about her yet.

“Maybe I don’t want to be Alexia Putellas all the time, you know? It gets quite tiring.” Alexia said quietly. You were caught off guard, but composed yourself quickly. “That’s not an easy thing to ask with your career, captain.” You chuckled quietly, but grew quiet as you noticed the sincerity in her voice. “Look, I know we barely know each other. But I think you’re the kind of person who could see me for who I am, not just the name, the number or the captain’s armband. I feel drawn to you, and that doesn’t happen often. And I know you feel it too. I can tell by the way you look at me.”

“That’s… a lot, Alexia.” You hesitated, meeting her eyes again. “Thank you for being so open and honest with me. You’re right, I feel it too. But I don’t know if I’m the kind of person you think I am. I mean… you’re you, and…” you trailed off, but you were sure she understood what you were trying to say.

“And you’re you. That’s exactly why I’m standing here right now. Why I invited you today. Why I asked you to come to the parking lot.” Her words helped you ease a little further, but not all the apprehension had worn off and she could tell. “Tell you what, let me prove it to you. Dinner? No pressure. Just food, conversation, and maybe some embarrassing stories about my teammates.” A hopeful smile grew on her face after her words and you couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped your lips as you listened to her. “You know how to sell an offer, don’t you?”

“I’ve got plenty. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” “Hmm, I don’t know. Feels like you’re trying too hard to convince me.” “Trying too hard? I thought I was being charming!” “Debatable.” “Come on, let me in tonight. That’s all I’m asking for.” “Fine. But only because I’m curious about these embarrassing stories.” “Fair enough.”

-

The restaurant is small but elegant, tucked away in a quieter part of the city. Twinkling string lights frame the windows, and a gold sign with cursive lettering displays the name. It was perfect, really, and you could see why Alexia liked coming here, especially after busy days like today.

The warm lighting inside created the perfect cozy atmosphere that would allow you both to unwind from the day. There were candles on every table, casting soft shadows on the walls, and there was a tinge of jazz to be heard in the background. It’s intimate but not overly formal, just right for a dinner that was toeing the line between casual and romantic.

“You’ve got good taste in restaurants,” you said, after hanging your jacket over your chair and sitting down. “Good food is one of the few indulgences I allow myself during the season. Though I have to be careful not to overdo it.” You smirked, deciding that you could tease her a little further. “You mean you don’t carb-load on patatas bravas before every match?” Alexia laughed at that, throwing her head back slightly. “I wish. I’d run for ten minutes and then need a sub.”

You indulge yourself in the menu for a second, eventually settling on and ordering a seafood risotto and a glass of white wine. Alexia ordered grilled chicken with roasted vegetables, paired with a glass of red.

You feel hyper-aware of every small detail about Alexia while you wait for your food. The way she leans forward when she speaks, the gestures she makes with her hands, the warmth in her eyes. You’re overwhelmed, in the best possible way.

“So, Putellas, do you always bring strangers here, or should I feel special?” You challenged, taking a sip from the glass of wine that was just brought to you by one of the waiters. Alexia feigned annoyance, placing a hand over her chest where her heart was. Nonetheless, her face turned into a grin soon.

“Special. But don’t let it get to your head. I needed to bribe you into liking me somehow.” “Oh, so this is a bribe?” “What can I say? I’m better with my feet than my words”

Dinner goes by smoothly, and your conversation flows easily from one topic to the other. You cover your family, Alexia’s way into football, what she’s thinking of doing after football, your hobbies, your youth, but it’s when the topic of your work is being brought up that you grow apprehensive. Alexia noticed the unease that came from you after she brought it up, and tried to reassure you.

“You know, I like hearing about your work. It’s part of who you are,” she tried. If there was one thing that you’d not gotten over yet, it’s that you met Alexia through a work context. Deep down, there were more than rational thoughts telling you that that was completely okay, it happened all the time, but with how focused you are on your image and your professional career, you had a hard time dropping the apprehension. So you paused for a second, and then spoke up softly. “But that’s the thing. I feel like I need to keep it separate. Like if I start talking too much about it, I’ll ruin this… whatever this is.” Alexia leant forward at that, like she had the tendency to do quite often you’d grown to learn. “And what do you think this is?” You met her eyes, trying to feign indifference by shrugging. “I don’t know. Something new, something unexpected.”

“Well, maybe unexpected is good. You don’t have to keep everything separate, you know. I like knowing more about you. All of you.” “Careful, I might start talking about zoning laws and blueprints.” “I’ll risk it. Besides, more fuel for me to tease you with.”

There’s a little more hesitance in your eyes, and Alexia wants to get rid of it. “Tonight, I’m not Alexia Putellas. I’m Alexia, Ale. That’s all I want to be now.” And really, how could you stay professional with someone who looked at you like that, as if they’re seeing something no one else ever had?

“I don’t usually do this either, you know? Going for dinner with someone I barely know.” Alexia speaks up after a while of comfortable silence. “Then why now?” You asked, not sure whether you really wanted to hear the answer, knowing it would only put your further into a pit of unfamiliar feelings that was growing deeper and deeper with each passing minute of sitting across the infatuating Spanish captain. “Because you feel different. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I feel like you see me. Not the player, just me.”

The night went on without too many hiccups from then on. It was only when the time came to pay, that some more teasing was thrown around. “You’ve got that look on your face. You’re going to pay, aren’t you.” You cocked an eyebrow at the women across you who was sporting a bright smile. “You caught me.” You sighed, rolling your eyes briefly. “At least let me cover dessert.”

“How about this; you get dessert next time.” “Next time? You’re confident.” “Maybe. But I’m not doubting anything.”

As you step out the restaurant, Alexia offers you her jacket when she notices you shivering in the chilly air of Barcelona. Your fingers brush as she helps you into it, and for a moment, they linger. “This was nice. I’m glad you said yes.” Her voice barely above a whisper, as if the intimacy of the evening had softened her voice. “Me too. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but… I had a really great time. Sorry for my apprehension.” “Don’t apologise. And good, because I’d like to do this again. Soon.”

For a moment, Alexia looked at you, her eyes lingering on yours like she was memorizing something important. And then she leaned in, so slowly that you could feel your heart pound in anticipation. Her lips brushed your cheek, featherlight and warm, lingering just enough to make your breath hitch. It wasn’t hurried, it was deliberate, full of quiet meaning.

Your skin tingled where she’d kissed you, and a rush of warmth spread from your chest all the way to your fingertips. It was a simple gesture, nothing more than a small brush of her lips against your cheek, but it left you feeling all kinds of ways. Ways that you weren’t prepared for, and your growing adoration for her hit you in the face once more.

When she pulled back, Alexia’s eyes searched yours for a reaction, her own cheeks tinged pink in the glow of the streetlight. Your voice felt caught in your throat, but your heart spoke louder. You knew then, without a doubt, that this was more than just a fleeting connection.

[kwanisms]

Dinner & Dessert — c.jh

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➮ virgin!Jongho × experienced!Reader wc: 3.6k summary: Jongho takes Y/N out on a nice dinner date but they decide to have dessert back at Y/N's dorm room. genres/themes/au: light fluff, smut; best friends to lovers (bff2l), college setting; non idol au, bff au, college au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, reader is smaller than Jongho, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special tags: @bro-atz permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @suveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @simeonswhore @yangracha @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @chocolate-scoups @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene @certifiedmoa @nottkwiwin @juskz   ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @starlitmark @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @confusedmoonchild777 @burnsmepls @nebulousbookshelf

join my taglist! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry it's taken so long to get this out but here's the next part of the Jongho Corruption Kink Miniseries. Thank you to Bro for reading this for me cause I wasnt sure if it was any good. I don't have much else to say about this other than I cranked this out in a couple hours so I hope you like it! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: oral (f & m receiving), cum swallowing, praise (m receiving), slight body worship (f receiving), corruption kink, pussy drunk Jongho (man gets one taste and just goes feral), mild face fucking (f receiving), deepthroating, use of pet names (hers: baby, babe, angel; his: babe, baby), light fingering (f receiving), and I think that's all? Lemme know if I missed any!

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“I want you to teach me how to give oral.”

The words had caught you off guard as soon as they left your best friend boyfriend’s lips. Your lips parted in shock as you let the noodles from your meal slip off your fork while you fixed him with an incredulous stare.

Quickly, you glanced around before leaning in and meeting his gaze.

“We are in public, Jongho!” you hissed. He said nothing, merely blinking back at you like he hadn’t just said something inherently sexual and inappropriate for dinner conversation.

Not that you were opposed to this kind of behavior, you just didn’t expect it from your virgin best friend boyfriend. From you? Definitely but from him? Unexpected, but welcomed.

Ever since teaching him how to properly finger you, you’d seen an uptick in his eagerness and willingness to initiate sexual intimacy. Of course you’d never gone past touching one another as you didn’t want to pressure Jongho into doing anything he wasn’t ready for.

Clearly, he was ready for more.

“So?” he muttered, glancing down at his plate and back up as you set your utensil down and picked up your napkin. This was the last thing you expected when he asked you out for dinner.

Jongho had texted you right after class and asked if you wanted to get dinner. You initially had expected him to bring take out over, a pizza or some other favorite place but instead, he told you to be ready to leave in an hour and told you to dress up.

It wasn’t entirely like him to be so assertive but since you started seeing each other (among other things), Jongho’s confidence had seen a huge boost and you like to think you had a hand in that although you knew it was entirely on him. 

He’d shown up to your dorm looking less like your chaste best friend boyfriend and was instead oozing every ounce of sex appeal you knew he had. The ride to the restaurant had been silent mostly but it wasn’t awkward in the slightest and you were thankful that he was distracted by driving as it gave your eyes the chance to wander and appreciate everything they could take in.

Jongho had gone beyond your expectations, going so far as to make a reservation, meaning he had to have been planning this for at least a week. You were beyond impressed by his efforts. You remembered a conversation the two of you had a week or so ago where he assured you that what you had was more than just the physical stuff to him. He wanted more and you did, too. It was just hard to keep your hands to yourself sometimes.

So when he suddenly sprang this on you, to say you were shocked was an understatement.

Your lips threatened to turn into a smirk before you spoke.

“Well, at least you’re taking me out to dinner first,” you mused, making Jongho look down at his plate as the hostess walked by, guiding a couple to another table. He looked back up to meet your gaze. “So will you?” he asked softly, eyes shining with a curiosity that was both adorable but also played into your more carnal desire to corrupt your virginal boyfriend in every way possible.

You lifted your wine glass slowly, taking a sip and maintaining eye contact, setting it back down before answering him. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” you asked. Jongho inhaled and exhaled slowly before nodding fervently. You admired how hard he tried to keep his composure but you could tell under the facade, he was eager to have you under him again.

‘Cute.’

Jongho would be a liar if he said he wasn’t eager to have you under him again. Ever since he’d made you come with just his fingers, he’d wondered what it’d be like to have you come undone on his tongue. He thought about it far more than he cared to admit even to himself.

Ever since that first night, months ago, when you made him come in his pants, he’d been insatiable. Knowing you wanted him as much as he wanted you and then some gave him a much needed confidence boost. Sure, this relationship was about more than just sex but no one could blame him for wanting to be intimate with his best friend girlfriend.

As he held your gaze, hoping you’d say yes to his proposal, you toyed with your fork, no doubt contemplating his words rather than if you wanted to continue eating. He hoped you’d say yes. He was about to beg (not like he wasn’t entirely above it. Not when he was dying to get a taste) when you smiled that lovely smile that always managed to give him butterflies, make his brain turn to mush, and his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, he was down so bad.

Before you could respond, the server returned to the table and Jongho took the opportunity to end the night. “Could we get the check please?” he asked. The server nodded before looking between the two of you. “Were we thinking of any dessert?” he asked. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly, thanking him before he nodded and walked away to get your bill.

“We’ve got dessert at home.”

No sooner than you were back in your dorm did Jongho have your door shut, locked your back pressed against it, lips on yours as his hands wandered, grabbing the material of your dress and slowly bunching it up past your thighs. “Jjongie,” you murmured as his lips left yours to trail kisses down the side of your neck. “We should probably take these off,” you added, trying to undo the button on your jacket.

Jongho let out an animalistic growl, grabbing your hands and pinning them against the wall.

“I’m getting to it,” he mumbled, lips attaching to your neck once more but his hands keeping your wrists firmly against the wood of your door. “Well hurry up,” you teased as you tried to pull against his hold on your wrists. To your surprise, Jongho gave in easily, letting go of your wrists and opting instead to fumble with the buttons of your jacket.

Once he managed to undo them, the fabric just seemed to slide off you as your own hands worked quickly to unzip his own jacket and push it off him. You felt his hands trying to pull at your dress, a silent plea to remove it but you had other plans, instead taking a temporary lead and guiding him to your bed only for him to gently but firmly push you down onto it.

Before he could guide you further back, you grabbed him by the hips, holding him steady as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Let me take care of you first, baby,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper but more than loud enough in the silence of your dorm room for him to hear.

Wordlessly, Jongho’s hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin and down over your bottom lip. “A-are you sure?” he asked nervously. You smiled up at him, not breaking eye contact as you slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. “Yes,” you whispered again.

“I’m sure.” 

It didn’t take you long to pull his pants down just enough to expose his hard cock, hidden in the confines of his underwear. You carefully pressed your palm against it, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his boxers. You heard him inhale sharply and fought the urge to smirk. You’ve barely touched him and yet he was so responsive. You felt a small surge of pride over being able to have such an effect on him merely by touching him over his underwear.

Not wanting to keep him, or yourself, waiting, you ran your hand up, tucking the tips of your fingers under the waistband of his underwear and slowly pulling the material down until his cock sprang free, standing proudly and waiting for you to touch.

Tearing your gaze away from Jongho’s temporarily, you wrapped your hand around the base and gave him a tentative stroke, enjoying the way he let out a whimper. As much as you wanted to tease him about it, you chose not to, wanting to make him feel good.

Parting your lips, you took him by surprise by taking him into your mouth without any warning, making him gasp, one of his hands moving to your head, fingers tightening slightly in your hair. “Shit,” he hissed, breath already coming out raggedly.

Oh how you wanted to tease him for it so badly. Falling apart so quickly. ‘Another time.’

You sank slowly, taking more and more of him in your mouth, the weight of his cock heavy on your tongue. He tried to focus on his breathing, trying to keep his composure no doubt but you knew his resolve would crumble the moment you started bobbing your head.

And crumble it did.

No sooner than you started moving, did he let out a loud moan. Almost too loud. If anyone had been walking by your room at that exact moment, there would be no doubt in their mind what was going on behind the door. Not that you’d mind. You really didn’t care what your dorm neighbors thought.

The only thing that mattered was that your boyfriend, your oh-so-sweet and innocent boyfriend, was in your room, cock in your mouth, and the eagerness to learn how to please you after you got him off. It seemed only fair to show him what you could do first before teaching him what to do.

A preemptive reward if you will.

Each bob of your head had Jongho choking back a moan, resisting the urge to bite his fist to muffle the sounds even more than he was. You pulled back, his cock falling from your tongue to look up at him. Your hand took over temporarily as you looked up at him and spoke.

“Don’t hold back,” you said, voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t care who hears you.”

Jongho shook his head. “I don’t want your neighbors to complain,” he whispered, stifling a groan as your hand worked him even more. “Fuck them” you retorted. “I want to hear how good I make you feel, baby,” you added. Jongho studied your face for a moment, contemplating whether he should just toss his inhibitions aside but the decision was made for him when you took him back in your mouth, letting out an unrestrained moan.

You felt a swell of pride in your chest as you moved, each unrestrained moan a dulcet melody to your ears. You continued to move, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled back. Glancing up, you met his heated gaze, and felt that distinct throb between your legs. “Babe,” he moaned, gently stroking your hair. “Let me—” whatever he was about to say faltered as he let out a whine, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

You barely gave him a chance to recover as you sank further, taking his cock further until the head rested just in the back of your throat. Jongho let out a choked moan as you swallowed around him. “Fuck, baby, wait,” Jongho gasped, cock twitching in your mouth. You pulled back and looked up at him.

“I was about to cum,” he panted, making you smirk. “That’s the goal,” you said softly, licking your lips. “Just, give me a moment,” Jongho said breathlessly and you nodded, watching him regulate his breathing. The silence was punctuated only by his ragged breathing.

“Uhm, Y/N?” he finally spoke. You looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“Could I… try something?” His voice sounded so soft and full of curiosity. How could you deny his genuine curiosity? You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“Of course,” you replied sweetly. “What would you like to try?”

Of course, at that moment, your sweet boyfriend’s words failed him. “I-I… I w-wanted to…” You smiled up at him. “Take your time,” you cooed. “I’m not going anywhere. And don’t feel embarrassed for asking for anything. I’m happy to let you try anything you—”

“Could I fuck your face?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting to come out of his mouth but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Oh,” you said softly, caught off guard. Jongho’s face flushed in the low light of your room. “S-sorry,” he muttered quickly. “F-forget I said anything!” He started to pull his underwear up but you stopped him. “I told you that you have nothing to be embarrassed about, babe,” you said softly.

“If you want to try that, we certainly can.”

Jongho stared at you, eyes widening as you tugged his pants and underwear back down. “R-really?” he asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. ‘Cute.’ You nodded, a smile ever present on your face.

“Of course,” you replied. “If I tap your thigh twice, that means stop, okay?” you asked. He nodded excitedly. You licked your lips before parting them and allowing him to guide the head of his cock into your mouth. You breathed in slowly and nodded, letting him know you were ready.

The first thrust was shallow, almost as if he was testing the waters. You nodded again. He gave you another shallow thrust. You pulled back quickly. “Don’t worry about me,” you said softly. “Just go for it. I’ll stop you if I need to.”

The moment his cock was back in your mouth, Jongho did as you said and went for it. One hand held your head in place, giving you a few tentative thrusts before just letting go. Each thrust had the tip hitting the back of your throat, making lewd sounds fill the room. 

Jongho’s hand moved to the back of your head and you were taken by surprise as he pushed your head further, forcing the head of his cock into the back of your throat. You gagged, despite trying to fight it but he didn’t let up. Instead, he gave you another thrust, pushing further into your throat.

“Oh shit,” you heard him curse. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue and before he could pull you off him, you grabbed his hips, holding him firmly in place. “F-fuck, I’m gonna—”

His words were cut off by a moan as he came, load spilling down your throat. You held him still until you were sure he was done before pulling back, coughing slightly. “Oh shit, are you okay, angel?” Jongho asked quickly, taking your face in his hands and inspecting your face. You smiled at him.

“More than okay,” you answered, carefully pulling his underwear back up over his softening cock and zipping up his pants. Jongho pulled you into a kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue.

“Lie back,” he muttered against your lips, leaning over you as he spoke. You scooted backwards on your bed as Jongho climbed over you, lips pressing against yours as his hand bunched your dress up against your hip. “Can I remove this?” he asked softly. You nodded, letting out a soft giggle as his fingers skimmed against your bare skin as he hiked your dress up.

“Wait,” you said softly, grabbing his hands. Jongho looked up, meeting your gaze. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, searching your face. You cupped his cheek tenderly. “Take your time,” you muttered. “Don’t rush things.”

Jongho nodded, letting your dress fall against the bed, exposing only below your navel, giving him full view of your red lace panties. “Oh fuck,” he whispered. “You’re going to be the death of me, babe.” You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a smile as Jongho pressed a couple chaste kisses against your collar before glancing up at you, his hands slowly sliding down your chest, cupping your breasts briefly.

“I know I’m supposed to be learning to give oral,” he started, looking back up at you. “But could I please, take this off? Please, baby, please,” he murmured. “I really just wanna see your beautiful body.” 

Hearing the compliment from him made your cheeks grow warm. “Another time, okay? Let’s focus on the lesson,” you replied. Jongho sighed and nodded, slowly kissing down your body over the material of your dress until he reached your stomach. He looked up to meet your gaze.

“Now what?” he asked. “Take your time,” you started. “Just do what you feel comfortable doing.”

Without another word, you stifled a giggle as his kisses tickled your skin. “Should I take these off?” he asked, fingers toying with the lace of your panties. You nodded. “Go ahead.”

You lifted your hips as Jongho pulled the fabric down, removing them and tossing them aside. “Do I just…” he trailed off. “Just do what you feel comfortable doing. You’ve touched me before, if you want to start with that, I’m fine with that. I just want you to be comfortable,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as Jongho looked up at you from between your thighs.

“Or I could just…” he trailed off, spreading your lips before giving you a light lick, tongue flat against your clit. “Yeah,” you said breathily as he dove back in. “You could do that, too.”

“Remember what I told you before. Focus on the cli— ah!” you gasped as you felt his tip of his tongue pass over your clit, already sensitive from not getting any attention earlier. “Like that?” he asked, peeking at you as you fell back against the bed. “Y-yeah, like that,” you answered.

Jongho gave you a cheeky smile which you didn’t see and went back to it, diving back in. Each pass of his tongue over your aching clit had you moaning, the backs of your thighs resting against his shoulders as he buried his face between your legs.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” you asked between moans, one hand moving down to tangle in his dark locks. “Cause it sure seems like you know what you’re doing.” Jongho hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the pleasure. “I’m sure,” he finally managed to get out, licking his lips. “If I had, I think we’d already be past this,” he added.

“Oh?” you asked, lifting your head. “Where would we be, then?”

Jongho pulled back, slowly caressing your thigh. “With you on your stomach, my cock buried in your pussy,” he replied nonchalantly. Your jaw fell slack, surprised at the sudden surge of confidence exuding from your boyfriend. “Should we skip oral and go straight to that or—?” you asked, resisting the urge to smirk when Jongho frowned at you.

“No,” he answered. “I want to learn this,” he continued. You reached to take his chin in your hand. “You seem to have a pretty good handle on it,” you complimented. “But by all means, keep going. Make me cum all over that handsome face.”

Jongho didn’t wait for another invitation, pulling you to meet his face, his tongue continuing its assault on your clit. You’d had partners go down on you before but none of them had ever been this eager. It was like once he’d gotten a taste, there was no stopping Jongho until you came, which you weren’t complaining about, not when you were being pushed to the edge every time he kissed, licked, or sucked. You wondered if he’d watched something or read something for pointers.

Maybe that’s what spurred this whole thing on. Had he been doing ‘homework’ so to speak? And he wanted to take this next step and prove himself to you? Whatever his motivation, you weren’t sure nor could you care when your thighs were threatening to squeeze around his head.

“That’s it,” you gasped, resisting the urge to grind against his tongue. “Just like that, baby. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”

The praise did wonders for Jongho’s ego and it showed as his actions became more confident, making your back arch off the mattress as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Close,” you muttered. “I’m so close.” You heard him hum and felt two fingers toying with your slit before sinking into you.

Where the fuck did he learn that? No, when did he learn that? “Oh fuck, keep going, baby. You’re doing so good. How are you so good at this?” you hissed as his fingers curled inside you, pushing you over the edge and you gasped out a warning that you were about to cum.

You were grateful your boyfriend was so strong or you might have crushed his head. Instead, he held your thighs open as your orgasm washed over you, your hips moving to ride out your high until your body shook from overstimulation. “Okay, baby, that’s good,” you said breathlessly.

Jongho wiped his lips and chin on the back of his hand and grinned at you, clearly proud of his work. “How was that?” he asked, sounding just as proud as he looked. You lightly slapped his hand on your thigh and chuckled. “You passed. You got an A in fact.”

Jongho climbed over you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “An A, huh?” he asked softly. You hummed, nodding in response. “Hmm,” he murmured, giving you another kiss.

“How would I go about getting some extra credit then?” 

Your eyes opened and looked up at him. “Extra credit?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Jongho said softly, kissing you again, one of his hands sneaking between your bodies.

“Gotta turn that A into an A plus somehow.”

ⓘ DISCLAIMER :: MONSTER/ALIEN FUCKER ENTHUSIAST ⓘ ©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me. Content and support banners made by me using cafekitsune's template.

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite QL Couples* of 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

My only criteria was that the show had to have either aired entirely in 2024 or had the majority of its run in 2024. No other limits at all (except for tumblr's photo limit). Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do! I'd love to see what stuck out to everyone this year 💜

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

Without further ado, I'm going to kick things off with my favorite couples of the year!

♡ Tongrak and Mahasamut (Love Sea)

My darlings. My absolute loves. I knew Fort and Peat were going to deliver something special when Love Sea was announced and I am so glad that I was right. My love for them is as boundless as the sea that bonds them.

♡ Almond and Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

These two snuck up on me something serious. I never expected them to be this sweet and soft and bring such comfort to each other. They were my unexpected delight this year and I'm so happy I got to watch them fall in love.

♡ Yu and Ai (I Saw You in My Dream)

These two snuck up on me too, honestly. Never ever thought I would love them as much as I do considering how late I came into this show, but I cherish them very deeply. They're the sweetest childhood friends to lovers and they love each other so much. I don't think I've ever been prouder of a confession than when Yu finally confessed to Ai.

♡ Ken, Seiji, and Japan (Deep Night)

*Not a couple, but a THROUPLE! 2024 was a year of many, many BL blessings, one of the best of which was the fact that we got CANON POLY SIDES COURTESY OF CHEEWIN! We all hoped, we all prayed, we all looked at the workshop photos and thought 'surely we cannot be wrong', and when it came right down to it, we all got exactly what we wanted! I only wish that we'd gotten more of them.

KenSeijiPan you will always be famous.

♡ Ozone and Pie (Battle of the Writers)

Speaking of wanting more, I cannot believe it took this long for Mark Sorntast to get to kiss a boy on screen but damn, was it worth the wait. I want an entire spin-off of daddy Pie and his puppy Ozone because they were truly the best part of this show.

♡ X and Namping (Every You, Every Me)

Thanks to its format, Every You, Every Me gave us lots of great couples and fun dynamics but X and Namping were my favorites, even though their story ended tragically. The love was brief but it was beautiful and real.

♡ Meiji and Freya (Deep Night)

As if giving us canon poly wasn't enough, Cheewin also decided to bless us with milf yuri and then stacked one more blessing on top and gave them their own spin-off miniseries so we could have more time watching them fall in love. They're beautiful and I love them. This is how it feels to win.

♡ Yuan and Qian (Unknown)

I can't think of anything to say about these two that doesn't involve making dying animal noises and gesturing helplessly and maybe crying so just imagine me doing that to convey how I feel about this couple BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I GOT FAM THAT'S ALL I'M CAPABLE OF I'M SURE SOME OF YA'LL UNDERSTAND

♡ Tai x Kram (Two Worlds)

These are by far my favorite roles Max and Nat have played to date. The utter soulmates of it all. The every version of me will love every version of you in every universe of it all. Perfection. I only wish the show had been longer so their love really got a chance to breathe.

♡ Anin and Pin (The Loyal Pin)

Now, if a love ever got a chance to breathe, it was this love. They made you feel it. The yearning, the joy, the sweetness, all of it. We followed it all the way from childhood and it was such a satisfying experience. I will always have a soft spot for couples that are deranged about each other, however loudly or quietly they may go about it, and my girls are no exception.

♡ Phee and Non (Dead Friend Forever)

*scream singing* WE COULD'VE HAD IT ALLLLLLLL, ROLLING IN THE DEEEEEEEEP *cries on the floor*

♡ Tan and Fang (We Are)

AouBoom are never not a delight when they're on screen together, and TanFang were a delight in a veritable sea of delights. They got together early on and spent the rest of the show giving nothing but the best most delicious established couple goodness.

♡ Muenfah and Teerak (Your Sky)

At the time of writing we've only had these two for a few weeks but that's more than enough time for their adorable sweetness to land them on this list. They're darling. The relationship may be fake (for now) but the love is real.

♡ Sun and Junior (Caged Again)

The same goes for these two, and isn't that just the surprise of the year? HOW DID THE PANTHER AND PENGUIN TURN INTO PEOPLE SHOW END UP GIVING US SUCH AN ADORABLE COUPLE?

♡ Shao Peng and Zi Xiang (See Your Love)

They're just so soft and so gentle and they make each other feel heard and understood and I love them so much. Their boyfriend era may actually kill me.

♡ Jack and Joke (Jack & Joker)

*gently shakes Yin and War* Would giving us just a little more horny, loving boyfriend era and fewer horrors have been so hard? Do ya'll think you can get away with it because you're so pretty and so beloved?

Because they are. And they can actually. And they did. I adore them.

♡ Yak and Dee (Wandee Goodday)

One of my favorite things in this life is when a fake relationship slowly turns into a real relationship and two people who think they can be casual about each other are actually completely incapable of being so. Yak and Dee gave me exactly that and I love them for it.

♡ Oyei and Cher (Wandee Goodday)

Another side couple for which I would absolutely love a spin-off, but we did get to see them have their wedding (the first GMMTV wedding since the marriage equality bill was passed!) which is just as good. The love they have for each other, the support they give each other is top tier. They have my heart.

♡ God and Diew (Monster Next Door)

If I were to give an award for amazing communication between a couple, I would absolutely be giving it to these two. It was so refreshing to see them not only love and support each other, but talk and listen to each other. They were a delight.

♡ Myung Ha and Yeo Woon (Love for Love's Sake)

They were so sweet and so sad and they saved each other by loving each other so much that it broke reality and I just love them with my entire soul.

♡ San and Vee (Century of Love)

When this was airing I talked a lot about how it didn't actually matter whether Vee was Wad or not and that what mattered was San making a choice but for the record? Vee was totally Wad. He and San were SOULMATES!

♡ Neil and Sea (First Note of Love)

What if a couple was so gentle and soft that it made you wanna cry? What if they saved each other with music? What if they made each other brave?

♡ Moo and Kang (Only Boo!)

My darling boys. My sweetest most adorable boys who make me wanna curl into a ball and cry happy tears because I adore them so much. Moo's singular desire in this life part from becoming an idol is to save up enough money to marry Kang and NOW HE CAN AND I'M IN MY FEELINGS ABOUT IT EVEN MONTHS LATER.

♡ Karan and Achi (Cherry Magic Th)

They're perfect. In every conceivable way. Their love was just so lovely, it was such a joy. Everything about it and about them was so lovely to watch.

♡ Haruki x Jin (Our Youth)

These two have so much potential to hurt me. In fact, I'm almost certain that they will. But they just --*gestures helplessly*--you know? They hit exactly right for me.

[ereardon]

Snowed In || Saturday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else? 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 4.2K 

Masterlist here; Part one aka Friday here

You had spent seven years trying to reinvent yourself after college. Almost exactly three thousand miles between you and Stanford, and yet the ghost of who you had been haunted you. 

The funny best friend. The sidekick. The mousy girl in class. The overachiever. The one who wasn’t invited to parties. 

You had moved to New York after graduation and taken a job with a small newspaper, working your way up. Along the way you had gotten a haircut, figured out how to apply makeup with a wet beauty blender, how to dress for your small frame. You had traveled at every opportunity, made friends with people across the city, dated a hedge fund analyst and a bee farmer and a NYU professor. You had done everything you had wanted to do and more. 

But when you laid down to sleep at night, or first thing in the morning, all of that change escaped you. And your mind immediately flitted to the version of yourself that you had once been but no longer were. 

The girl Jake Seresin had known and loathed. 

***

The day was bright. Blinding. You groaned, rolling over, taking the covers with you, trying to shield your papery eyelids from the light streaming through the blinds. 

It was no use. You groaned, eyes flying open. 

Jake. 

For a split second you had forgotten that not ten feet away, Jake Seresin was hypothetically asleep on your couch. 

Slowly, you sat up, peering over the edge of the couch. But it was empty. The pillow and comforter that you had laid out the night before folded neatly and set in the corner. You frowned. And then the sound of the tap in the bathroom caught your attention. A moment later it stopped and Jake emerged from the bathroom into the hallway, wearing a pair of joggers and a fresh shirt, hair damp. He smiled. “Hey Finn.” 

That was it. Like he had forgotten how the two of you had left it the night before. 

“I made coffee. Hope that’s OK. But you don’t really have much else,” he said, sitting down on the ottoman. 

“Ugh, yeah, I meant to go to the store, but I never did.” 

Jake shrugged. “I think that’s our only option at this point.” 

You stood up, the pant legs of your silky pajamas pooling onto the cold hardwood floor as you crossed the room and placed one hand on the window. It was frosty. Blinding white from all the snow swirling in every direction. It made the air practically opaque. “Not it,” you replied, turning around with one finger pressed to the tip of your nose. 

Jake laughed. “Fuck it, fine, I’ll go.” 

You grinned. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be all bad. “You can go later if you want. I’m not a big breakfast person, anyway.” 

“Later is good.” Jake sat on the edge of the couch. “Listen, Finn. About last night.” 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted and Jake’s eyes widened. 

He laughed. A surprised chortle. “Jesus. Never thought I’d hear Ella Finnley apologize.” 

“People change, Seresin.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice softer. “That’s what I keep trying to tell you.” 

You looked him up and down. You had rarely thought of Jake Seresin in the almost ten years since the two of you graduated from Stanford. But when he did pop into your mind, it was almost always at the most random of times, triggered by a memory. The smell of a particular flavor of vodka that you remembered drinking at his fraternity house, or if someone on the street passed with a distinct Texas accent. The years had dulled your impression of him, coated him in a sepia film in your memory that automatically paired Jake Seresin with dickwad. 

Maybe, just maybe, you had been wrong. Or perhaps he had done what you had tried to do. 

Had he actually, fundamentally, changed for the better? 

“I’m going to shower,” you said, hooking one finger over your shoulder.  

“I’ll be here,” Jake said, looking around the studio apartment. The warm water helped wake you up, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the way Jake had looked when he said he had changed from your mind. There was something there that he had never embodied before. At least, not the Jake you had known. 

You turned off the tap, wrapping up in a white towel and sitting down on the edge of the tub, grabbing your phone and dialing a phone number you hadn’t touched in ages. 

She picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

“Suze,” you said, smiling. 

On the other end of the line, Suzannah whopped. “Ellie! Oh my God, it’s been forever! How are you?” 

“I’m good,” you whispered, trying not to be too loud. “Listen, I have a question for you.” 

“Everything OK?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I, um, Jake Seresin called me.” 

There was a pause. Then, “Why?” 

You sighed. “He, um, he asked to stay with me. Guess he was stuck at the airport with the storm that’s coming in.”

Suzannah wasn’t one to stay quiet for long. She had an opinion about everything, from the color of your nails to the best way to load a dishwasher to why Santorini is only for tourists. So silence from Suzannah was telling. 

“Suze?” you asked softly. 

“I’m here,” she said after a moment. “What did you tell him?” 

“He’s in my living room.” 

“Where the hell are you?” 

“The bathroom. Hiding.” 

She laughed. “You fucking idiot.” 

“Tell me why you guys broke up again.” 

“Ellie,” she sighed. “You of all people know.” 

You did. Jake had slept with not one but two of Suzannah’s sorority sisters while the two of them were on a break. But break in the Ross and Rachel definition of break. As in the two of them had parted ways for no more than three days before Jake had fucked the other girls. 

“Why’d you call, Finn?” she asked. “You already made the decision to let him in, obviously. So what are you looking for me to answer?” 

“Do you think people can change?” you asked. 

“Yeah, I do,” she replied. “By people do you mean Jake?” 

“Maybe.” 

Suzannah sighed. “You’re smart, Finn. Always have been. But you don’t trust people and that’s your fatal flaw. To answer your question, yes, I think Jake always had the ability to change. I don’t date losers, babe, you know that. Even back then.” 

I laughed lightly. “God, I miss you Suze.” 

“Call more,” she said. “And not just because you’re hiding in your bathroom from my ex-boyfriend.” 

“I feel like I’m twenty two again,” you replied. “Afraid to come out of the bathroom because you and Jake were fucking on the couch.” 

“Sorry about that.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “You need to go or else he’s going to think you have IBS or something.” Another pause. “Tell me something Finn, and don’t lie to me.” 

You sucked in a breath. With Suzannah, you never knew where the conversation was going to go. “OK?”

“Is he still hot?” 

You let out a snort. “Yes. Unfortunately.” 

“That’s what I thought. Damn men for just getting better with age while I look like a sickly Victorian child at the ripe age of twenty nine. Anyways, I love you, call me when you’re no longer a fugitive in your own home.” 

“Love you too, Suze.” You ended the call, shivering in the thin towel. When you realized you had left a change of clothes in the main part of the apartment instead of bringing something to the bathroom, you groaned.

Whipping open the door, you scampered down the long wooden hallway, shivering in the cold, rounding the corner on your tiptoes. Something hard hit you as your eyes were turned downward toward the floor. A solid mass smashed against your front and before you realized, you were falling to the ground, a small shriek echoing through the walls of your apartment as you and Jake tumbled to the floor in a heap of limbs, his fingers grasping for purchase on whatever he could. 

Which just happened to be on your bare ass where your towel rode up. 

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as the two of you smacked against the floor, your heads thankfully bouncing lightly against the cream colored rug to your left. 

Your eyes flew open as something heavy rolled over you, your knee pressing up into Jake’s crotch instinctively as his fingers touched your bare ass. 

“Oh my God!” Jake groaned, rolling over you as quickly as he had rolled on top, curling into a ball, hands cradling his crotch. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” you shrieked, kneeling next to him, gripping the towel around you with one hand, the other hovering over his pained body. “Did I get you?” 

Jake moaned, nodding his head. “Yeah, Finn, you got me.” 

You sat back on your heels. “Well you touched my ass so I think we’re even.” 

“Fuck,” he muttered, rolling onto his side. “Not even close, babe.” 

“Don’t babe me,” you said, standing up, making sure to keep your legs closed under the short towel. “You’re fine.” 

Jake grunted, pushing himself to sit as you rifled through the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a tight henley bodysuit. You brushed past him on your way back to the bathroom to change and Jake’s hand reached out, fingers circling your ankle. You gasped, looking down at him. He smirked. “It’s a nice ass.” 

“Oh fuck off, Seresin,” you muttered, tugging your ankle from his grip as he chuckled. “Your balls aren’t even sore are they?” you called down the hall. 

“Oh, they are!” 

“Dick,” you whispered to yourself, shutting the door.  

***

“Finn?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I turn the TV on?” 

You scowled. “What happened to independent reading time, Seresin?” 

After towelgate, you had emerged into the living room with a plan. To make time go faster, you and Jake would divide the day like elementary school. Breakfast coffee followed by gym class, per Jake’s suggestion, independent reading and a late lunch.

“And what the hell are we supposed to do for gym class when there’s a blizzard outside?” you asked. 

Jake shrugged. “Yoga?” 

The two of you had struggled through a yoga video that you screencast on your TV, and after Jake had obviously been staring at your ass in downward facing dog you smacked him on the arm. 

But an hour into reading and Jake was already calling it quits. 

He put his book, a worn copy of Wuthering Heights from your bookshelf, off to the side, kicking up his feet onto the coffee table. “Let’s play a game.” 

“Game time isn’t for an hour,” you replied, never taking your eyes off of your book, a new thriller by Ruth Ware. “God, are you sure you have a job? How do you focus on any work?” 

“I bounce around a lot,” he said. 

“Bounce around jobs a lot?” 

“Bounce around projects,” Jake clarified.

You looked up, eyebrows raised. “What are you, a drug dealer?” 

“Finn.” 

“What?” you asked, eyes flicking back to your book. “You never were great in school.” 

“Hey,” Jake cried. “I wasn’t great at Sawyer’s fiction seminar. Doesn’t mean I flunked out of any other class.” 

“You flunked out of Sawyer’s fiction?” You laughed. “God, that’s bad.” 

“It’s been nine years,” Jake said. “Can’t you let little things go?” 

“Nope,” you said, putting your book down. Outside, the snow had slowed so you could finally see through the opaque wall of flurries. “Fine, since you can’t sit still, why don’t you go to the bodega.” 

Jake frowned. “What do you need there?” 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

Jake looked around before turning back to face you, eyebrows raised. “A hammer?” 

“What the fuck would I need a hammer for?” 

“Why are you sending me to the hardware store during a snowstorm?” 

You bent in half laughing. “Wait, are you telling me you think a bodega is a hardware store?” 

“Well isn’t it?” 

“No,” you said, wiping under one eye. “It’s a fucking corner store. Bread, soda, beer. Chopped cheese. Midnight cigarettes.” 

“You don’t still smoke, do you?” he asked. 

“No, not anymore.” 

“Me neither.” 

You shook your head, standing up and grabbing your purse, pulling out a card. “Here, take this.” 

“No way.” Jake stood, pushing the gold Amex away from him. “I got this.” 

“Fine,” you said, sliding the card back into your wallet. “I don’t know, get us stuff to last another two days. Some pasta, maybe. Fruit so we don’t get scurvy.” 

“Scurvy in two days,” Jake muttered to himself, shrugging on a jacket, “that’s new information.” 

“Vodka,” you said. “And limes. I’m going to need to be drunk to deal with another day of being with you.” 

Jake turned toward the door, shaking his head. “Aren’t you a delight, Finn.” 

You tried to read while Jake was gone but every little sound in the hallway would make you look up. Finally, after five or so times of that happening, you gave up, setting the book down and sitting on the windowsill overlooking Fifth Ave. 

He was gone for a suspiciously long time. So long that at one point you almost pulled out your phone to call him, convinced he had gotten lost, when the doorbell rang. A minute later, you tugged open the door. 

Jake was covered in melted snow, huffing and puffing. He had two bags in each hand, and a bouquet of flowers under one arm. You frowned. “Flowers?” 

He stepped inside, tracking muddy water into the foyer of the apartment and you grimaced. “For you,” he said and your heart skipped a beat. Jake set down the bags, holding out the bouquet of white roses. “For letting me stay.” 

“Jake,” you whispered. 

He smiled. “Just take them, Finn,” he said softly. “For once in your life, let me do something for you.” 

“Fine,” you replied, taking the flowers and pressing them to your nose. They smelled clean and soft and you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had bought you flowers. You headed down the hall toward the kitchen. “Shoes off, Seresin. Stop tracking mud everywhere.” 

“I know,” Jake said and he was close, so close behind you that you could feel his breath on your exposed shoulder. “I’m getting something to wipe it up.” 

He reached around your body, grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser on the counter to your right, his chest brushing against your back before he pulled away. When he did, a rush of cold air hugged you tightly, reinforcing the fact that Jake was gone. 

Once all of the groceries were unpacked, you and Jake were settled at the dining room table eating two bodega sandwiches. 

“You’re like a kid who was left alone for the weekend, do you know that?” 

Jake looped up from his bacon egg and cheese. “What makes you say that?” 

“The groceries, Jake,” you replied. “Ice cream, cookie dough, Doritos, mac n cheese boxes? Seriously?” 

“I got fruit like you asked,” he said, taking the last bite of his sandwich and wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Besides, it’s a snowstorm. Don’t we get a free pass?” 

“Free pass for what?” 

Jake stood, clearing his plate and your empty one. He smirked. “A free pass to do whatever we want, Ella. Whatever you wouldn’t normally do. Nothing is off the table.”

“I can think of a few things that are.” 

***

Jake was better behaved with a full stomach. The two of you wrapped up reading time, and even played a game of Monopoly that you had found buried in your closet. Before long, it started to get dark, the sun sliding below the buildings until the sky was just a dark blanket peppered by the continuous snow. 

You flicked the news on. “More snow is expected to fall across parts of Manhattan and the wider Tristate tonight,” the newscaster said. “We could see up to another six inches overnight.” 

“Fuck,” you muttered, turning it off as Jake returned with two glasses. He handed one to you. “What is this?” 

“Vodka tonic,” he replied and you took a sip. “Since I know you’re trying to get me liquored up so I’ll have to sleep with you.” 

You sputtered, vodka spraying out of your mouth as Jake cackled, settling down onto the couch next to you. 

“Easy there,” he said, patting your knee, squeezing gently as you wiped at your mouth. 

“I think of the two of us, you’re the one that’s easy to get into bed, Seresin,” you murmured. His hand was still resting on your thigh. 

“Maybe so,” Jake said, his eyes never leaving yours. “The couch isn’t too comfortable, you were right.” 

“You’re not sleeping on the bed with me.” 

“What if I beg?” 

“Is that your kink? You want to have to beg for sex?” 

Jake leaned back, taking a sip of his drink, his hand still hot on your leg. “Sweetheart. I’ve never had to beg a day in my life.” 

You crossed your legs, letting his hand slip off. “Never say never, Seresin.” 

***

Somewhere between the third and fourth vodka soda was when things started to blur. Jake had brought the bottle out into the living room, along with a pack of tonic waters and a lime on a cutting board. At some point, you kicked off your slippers, tucking your feet up beneath you and Jake did the same, scooting closer on the couch, one arm stretched out over the tufted back. 

You leaned forward, reaching for more vodka, sliding a little and Jake’s arm shot out, catching you around the middle, suspending you in midair so you didn’t fall. 

Your faces were close together. He was basked in warm light from the candles on the mantle and the soft yellow lamp in the corner. He smelled good and cozy and for a second, you could almost forget that he was Jake Seresin. He was just a really attractive guy in your apartment looking at you like he never wanted to tear his eyes away. 

“How on earth are you single, Finn?” Jake asked, his fingers tightening around my side. His green eyes were clear and wide. 

You grabbed the vodka bottle, dumping some into my glass, and Jake finally released me. But his knee was pressed against my leg still, warm and inviting. “I don’t like dating,” you said. “Every guy is the same. He’s Midtown East and he has three cell phones or he lives in Fidi and he works twenty hours a day or God forbid he’s from Brooklyn and he wants me to take the L on the weekends. He’s an Upper West side dick whose mother will never approve of me. He’s an Upper East Side prick who would never look my way because I didn’t go to prep school. Or maybe he’s another Stanford alum, but even then I probably won't be good enough for him somehow.” 

“How could you not be good enough?” Jake whispered. 

“You overestimate me, Jake,” you replied. “And you overestimate the New York dating scene.” 

“You’re smart,” he said. “Beautiful. Charming in a really dickish, sarcastic way.” You laughed, head tossed back and Jake’s fingers on the back of the couch tickled your neck. “The whole package, El. Always have been.” 

“You didn’t like me in college, Seresin,” you replied. “What made you change your mind?” 

“Who said I didn’t like you in college?” 

“You did! The way you always gave me shit and how you always avoided me if we were waiting for Suzannah at the same time.”

Jake shook his head. “I didn’t hate you. I’ve never disliked you a day in my life, Ella.” 

“Then what?” you asked. “Why were you always so weird?” 

Jake paused. You watched his jaw tense. He set his cup down on a coaster on the table and stood up abruptly. “We need more liquor.” 

You frowned. “What? No, we still have vodka left.” 

“Then we need gin.” 

“I have gin.” 

“OK, tequila.” 

“Jake, what are you doing?” But he was already down the hall, pulling on his jacket, sliding into his boots. You scrambled off the couch. “Jake, wait!” But he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him. 

You stood in shock. What had just happened? After a few minutes, you tugged on a coat and a pair of boots, slipping your keys into your pocket. The hallway was dark and empty, no sign of Jake.  

Five floors later, you emerged in the lobby. “Ella!” Gerry the doorman looked up from behind the desk. “How are you sweetheart?” 

“Hi Gerry,” you said. “Did, um, did a guy rush out of here a few minutes ago?” 

He nodded. “Tall, blond, looks like a total player?” 

“Yeah, that’s him.” 

“He took a left, toward the park,” Gerry said. “Be safe, sweetheart. He looks like he’d break your heart.” 

“He’s just a friend.” 

Gerry nodded knowingly. “Friend. OK, doll. You be safe out there, it’s cold as all hell.” 

You smiled, bursting through the double glass doors, getting smacked in the face by a gust of air. It burrowed into your skin, freezing you whole and despite the heavy coat your teeth chattered as you took a hard left down Fifth. Washington Square Park was five blocks away, but no way Jake had already made it that far, right? 

No one else was out. Who would be so stupid as to go outside at nearly midnight in the middle of the worst blizzard in two decades? 

Apparently you. And Jake Seresin. 

You scampered across the intersection, crossing tenth street, hurrying as the wind gusted from one side, threatening to toss you into the nonexistent traffic on the avenue going downtown toward the park. 

Up ahead, you spotted the familiar Washington Arch that stood at the northern part of the park. Snowflakes dotted your eyelashes and you blinked, pressing them away into liquid, before opening your eyes wide, spotting a familiar head bobbing down the sidewalk. “Jake!” you called out, your voice getting picked up and carried away in the wind. “Jake!” 

Beneath your body, your feet scrambled along, pushing you closer. 

“Jake!” 

The man in the distance stopped and turned. The lights illuminating the arch highlighted him from behind. His jacket was too thin and as you approached you could see it was damp from snow, his hair sticking to his drawn face.

“Seresin,” you said, stepping closer until the two of you were only a few feet apart. “What the fuck? You’re like a shit baby daddy, going out for diapers and never coming back.” 

“Get it all out,” he said. “Whatever you think of me, Ella. It’s time to air the dirty laundry.” 

You frowned. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand what’s happening. One second we’re drunk and laughing and the next second you’re fucking running away and forcing me to chase you through a goddamn blizzard.” 

“You didn’t have to chase me.” 

“You left,” you said quietly. “What did you expect me to do?” 

“Let me leave,” Jake said. “If you think I’m such a bad person, what do you care if I stay or not?” 

“The real question is why did you hate me so much,” you whispered. “Back in the apartment. I asked why you hated me so much back then. And instead of answering, you made up some bullshit excuse about needing tequila. So answer, Jake. Or I’ll let you turn into an ice sculpture and I’ll sell you to 230 Fifth and their stupid fucking igloo bar as decoration.” 

“I don’t hate you, Ella,” Jake said, stepping closer. Even drenched in snow he was warm. A furnace. “I never hated you.” 

“So what was it then?” you demanded. “A Mr. Darcy thing? You ignored me and shut me out and gave me shit because you loved me?” 

“Maybe.” 

“What?” Stunned silence surrounded the two of you. If it was even possible, the snowflakes fell slower. As if they were suspended in the air. It was just you and Jake in the middle of Fifth Avenue in a snowglobe. You looked up at him, eyes wide. 

“Did you ever think, Ella, that maybe I called you for a reason?” Jake asked quietly. “That maybe, just maybe, I spent eight years wondering about what had happened to the one girl who had seen me for who I really was and never let me get away with it? That maybe, just maybe, I took your feedback to heart and tried to change. And now I’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” 

“For this,” Jake said, closing the distance between the two of you and sliding one hand around your neck, tipping your head back, bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @buckysteveloki-me  @eli2447 @bellaireland1981 @seresinslady @hookslove1592 @shotclock24seconds @fanficfandomlove @ryebecca @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @t8r-tots

[samiiy20]

♡Master list ♡

N/A: I don't know if I should call this a miniseries but it's an idea that's been on my mind for a while and I want to do it, so this is a compilation about the types of love you would have with boys. I hope to be able to share the next part with you soon and I hope you enjoy it.

˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆

Bang Chan

Right person, wrong time After a long time you meet the one you believe is the love of your life, but things begin to get complicated when they decide to follow their dreams and will have to decide what really matters to them. Love or your dreams?

˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆

Lee Minho

Lose My Breath Rivals to lovers When you thought it was finally your time to shine, fate plays against you by pairing you with the person you hate the most, making you have to work together to win a dance competition

˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆｡˚♡⋆

Seo Changbin

Childhood friends After a long period away from home you decide to return to face life where you left it, but you are not sure how to deal with new feelings with people from the past.

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Hwang Hyunjin

Soulmate It wasn't a coincidence, they both knew it since they saw each other for the first time. They were destined to be together, but fate will have unexpected tricks in store for them and they will have to decide between their happiness or that of others.

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Han Jisung

Friends to lovers After a humiliation you decide to vent your sorrows with your best friend by asking him for a favor without knowing that this will change the course of your friendship forever.

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Lee Felix

Second Chance It's a personal rule. Don't go back to old loves. It didn't matter how much you missed him or if you had to go out every night trying to fill that void in your chest, but what happens when fate decides to bring you together again?

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Kim Seungmin

Neighbors Life around you is calm, you have a stable job and good friends, but after a mishap at the office it seems that you are back where you started, but not everything seems to be bad when you meet a charming neighbor.

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Yang Jeongin (I.N)

Summer Love Your parents didn't know what to do with you, something was wrong but they didn't know how to help you so they decided that the best thing would be to take you to a place away from everyone, but what happens when you meet someone who seems to solve all your problems knowing that it wouldn't last forever?

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[ironstrange1991]

The Miniseries Masterlist

Do not copy, translate or repost my work anywhere. +18 Blog MINORS DNI

Synopsis: The reader is living her best life with her three Stephens when is confronted by a new reality: an unexpected pregnancy that could tear their relationship apart.

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship dynamics, jealousy, toxic relationship traits, sexual content. (Other warnings will be added in their appropriate chapters)

CHAPTER ONE: WHAT IT MEANS TO US

The reader is faced with an unexpected pregnancy and fears what this could mean for her unconventional relationship.

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT IT DOES TO US

As the first weeks go by, the reader tries to understand how she feels about being pregnant while the Stephens begin to be affected by it in a very intense way.

CHAPTER THREE (COMING SOON)

BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

BACK TO MULTIPLE STEPHENS MASTERLIST

Fanfic writers make their living from the interaction of their readers. Leave a comment, like and especially reblog the fanfics you read. It will give me motivation to keep writing.

I tag people on my fics, let me know if you want to be tagged.

[daecheonsa]

BIG LEAGUE CHEW is a pre-debut single by South Korean boy group DAM.NATION, released as a pre-single to their upcoming debut album, GOING DOWN. The track was released on December 1st, 2024, alongside a music video uploaded to OHJANG ENTERTAINMENT's official YouTube channel. BIG LEAGUE CHEW follows the precedent set by the group's previous pre-debut effort, 소년만화 (Boy Comics), similar in both sound and lyrical themes. Dropping the anime theme in favor of baseball metaphors, the members of DAM.NATION express an unwavering determination to succeed; no matter the cost. This sentiment matches what fans saw of the group in their miniseries 'GOD SAVE THE DAMNED' in October - be that for better, or for worse; if the visual media released so far for GOING DOWN wasn't enough, BIG LEAGUE CHEW and it's video seem to confirm the group as a five-piece. BIG LEAGUE CHEW failed to enter any major charts, though did attract some attention among idol fans online, who commented on the group's unexpected rock-inspired sound (a first for OHJANG, better known for a fresher, more innocent image) and the surprisingly high budget behind the group; both the song and music video being of high production quality. The members were also praised for their vocal performance; particularly SHOGO, HWIHUN and YONGHYUNG. In spite of a few positive reviews, BIG LEAGUE CHEW failed to make much of a splash, and generally passed by totally unnoticed until the release of GOING DOWN, after which it was performed on music shows alongside the title track . . .

001. BIG LEAGUE CHEW. Inspo Track. © OHJANG ENTERTAINMENT.

DAM.NATION : Going Down (Debut Album) 12.6.2024.

[krinsbez]

A Watership Down Meta/Headcanon/Rant

So, both @jaybutnotthebird and @stavarosthearcane have stated that, to their knowledge, I've not posted this on tumblr, and indicated that they would like to hear it, I'm posting it now!

So I don't recall if it was stated explicitly or was, like, a rumor, but everything about Gen. Woundwort makes so much more sense when you realize he's a hutch rabbit.

Why is he so enormous? Cuz he was bred to be big and fluffy, was fed flayrah everyday, and was taken to the vet if he got sick.

Why is he so afraid of humans? Because they were the first elil he ever encountered.

Why is everything he does in complete opposition to proper lapine culture and behavior? Because he grew up not knowing anything about it.

Efrafa is, in essence, an attempt to make a warren into a hutch.

OK got that? So, here's another thing to think about. Cowslip's Warren, or Strawberry's Warren, or the Warden of the Shining Wire, or whatever you want to call it...they also completely disregard traditional Lapine culture and behavior; they don't tell stories of El-ahrairah, they make weird poetry about the inevitability of death, they keep babbling about dignity, they make ART, etc. This, by the way, is why it and Efrafa come off as so viscerally wrong, because Mr. Adams went to the trouble of putting us in a rabbit headspace, so we can understand the full horror; it's not just Woundwort's tyranny or the farmer's snares, it's that they're unnatural and rabbits aren't meant to live that way.

Now, I know what you're thinking when I say that word, "unnatural", but put down the pitchfork.

Because Hazel and Co. do a LOT of things that is outside the realm of typical rabbit behavior:

Despite being Chief Rabbit, Hazel let's the others argue with and talk back to him.

They made friends with mice and a bird.

He adopted Cowslip's Warren's idea of using tree roots to create a big central chamber

Tales (the sequel short story collection) has them adopt a (obvs. less aggro) version of the Efrafan practice of having the Owsla run patrols

They busted out hutch rabbits.

They used a boat

Meanwhile, Sandleford, the Warren that our heroes fled, was apparently the epitome of a traditional Warren and of course they all died horribly.

So, what's the difference?

It goes back to the last lines of the first myth, part of which was used as the first animated film adaptation's tagline:

“All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed.”

(I bolded the important part)

Sandleford's Chief Rabbit (EDIT: The Threarah) decided he liked things as they were and refused to change, and his people died. Cowslip and Co. allow themselves to be farmed and treat death as an inevitability, and they're slowly going mad and dying one by one. Gen. Woundwort teaches his Owsla to respond to every situation by fighting, and they break and flee when the unexpected happens. The ordinary rabbits of Efrafa are forced to live like hutch rabbits and they're miserable and not having babies.

Hazel does weird stuff…but he does so because he's in a weird situation and has to adapt. He listens to the other's concerns and ideas, he keeps an open mind, he figures out what resources are available to him, and then figures out how he can use them to protect his people.

In short? Unlike Woundwort, Cowslip & Co., or the unnamed Chief Rabbit of Sandleford EDIT: The Threarah, he is cunning and full of tricks.

(I think one of the reasons the BBC miniseries from a few years back didn't hit right is that they failed to get this)

Anyways, thanks for coming to my TED Talk

[jessjad]

Unexpected

Series Masterlist

Summary: After a Halloweenparty Y/N actually didn't want to got to, her life seems to be turned around. The reason is a very stubborn Supe that seems to have her in his visier. Is it just a coincidance or more?

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!! Annoyance, forced situations, hurt/comfort, misogyny, kidnapping, violence, smut, maybe enemies to lovers? All chapters will have their own warning.

A/N: So, here it is. I had a lot of ideas for these two and it seems like we're getting more out of it than just a miniseries. I'll start posting as soon as I can, but schedule wise I can't promise anything right now. Which means that anyone who wants to be tagged has time to let me know.

I'll ad the Oneshot who inspired me as a prequel, but you can still read it as a standalone.

My Masterlist

Prequel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15 - Epiloge

Series complete!

[thenightfolknetwork]

As a person of evident good judgement, I'm sure you're familiar with the works of the late, great Sir Terry Pratchett. He has the rare skill of mixing philosophy and politics into his comedy, it's quite delightful.

One such example is in his novel 'Going Postal'. He introduces the idea that, “A man’s not dead while his name is still spoken.” It's a beautiful sentiment. But I must confess, some of the shine has worn off it for me in recent years.

I'll cut to the chase: I died of typhoid fever in 49CE. And I mean died. I was done and gone and passed, leaving no more ripples on the surface of the world than any other Joe Nobody. My name had been long forgotten, the stone marking my grave long since worn away.

And then, to my surprise, I returned.

It started slowly, a gradual stirring of awareness. Then, in a great crashing wave, I arrived – full and real and vibrant, as alive as I had been before my sickness.

I've since learnt that there was an archaeological dig near my old home a few years ago. They discovered the stone, deciphered it despite the wear. My name returned to the world - and I returned with it.

At first I was just being mentioned in academic circles, cited here and there. Nothing dramatic.

But then hen, a writer named a character after me in a miniseries about Roman Britain. My name was on millions of lips - apparently I'm something of a fan favourite.

But I've seen the programme and it's all wrong! The character is nothing like me, for starters. And the life they've painted… Well, it is a good effort, I suppose. But it is not my life.

This is to say nothing of the fan interpretation. They barely seem to care about the text of the show at all! They extrapolate wildly, especially about my relationship with a certain centurion. The two of us share barely more than a minute or two of screen time!

I don't mind being back, per se. I enjoyed being alive, and I'm enjoying being back - especially the chance to catch up on my reading.

How can I correct the people's misinterpretations of me and my life? Or should I just let it go and enjoy my resurgence - however long it might last?

First of all, reader, congratulations on returning to this plane of existence. Unexpected as this return might be, I'm glad you're still finding ways to enjoy this new lease on… not life, exactly, but something rather like it.

I can well imagine how frustrating it might be to see people attaching your name and identity to an otherwise fictional character. But I think emphasising that difference is the first step in coming to terms with the situation.

This writer has shown a remarkable commitment to authenticity by choosing the name of a real Roman Briton to use in their screenplay. But seeking to create authentic fiction is a very different ambition than seeking to create a fully accurate representation of past events and the people who lived them.

I wish I could tell you that the viewers of this programme will understand this difference. Many will, but it is an unfortunate truth that people often take historical dramas at face value and may not fully appreciate just how much of what they see has been at most tenuously inspired by historical research, and more likely invented whole cloth by the writers themselves.

But this is a misinterpretation of a television programme, not of you. These viewers are engaging with a piece of fiction, not with you as a real, historical person. This is especially true of those viewers who “extrapolate wildly” about the relationships between fictional character. They aren't misinterpreting you – they're creating their own fictions, inspired by the fiction they've consumed.

With that said, many fans of historical fiction are also interested in actual historical research. If you really want to educate people about life in Roman Britain, the fans of this programme might be a particularly receptive audience. You could try posting on social media about your experiences, using the events in the programme as a jumping off point for your discussion of real history.

Do tread carefully, though. You need to keep a clear distinction between yourself as a real, historical figure and the character who bears your name. You aren't trying to “correct” the television programme or criticise its portrayal, but rather offering your reflections as additional insights for anyone who might be interested.

Please remember though, you are under no obligation to engage with this fan community at all. I see no reason at all why you can't simply leave them to their extrapolations, and concentrate on enjoying yourself for as long as you're with us.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[brokehorrorfan]

Skybound has announced Creature from the Black Lagoon Lives, its second Universal Monsters comic following Dracula. The first will be published on April 20.

Set years after the events of Creature from the Black Lagoon, the four-issue miniseries is written by Dan Watters and Ram V, with art by Matthew Roberts and colors by Dave Stewart.

Several covers will be available: Cover A by Roberts, Cover B by Joshua Middleton, plus variants by DANI (1:10), Middleton (1:50), Alex Ross (1:75), and a blank sketch cover.

Years after the events of the original film, journalist Kate Marsden hunts for a notorious serial killer in the heart of the Amazon. Hot on the trail of this madman, she soon encounters an unexpected new threat—but is it friend or foe? Or is it simply... the Creature from the Black Lagoon?

[un-pearable]

not getting into fights on twitter is a very easy rule to avoid having a terrible night but i can’t not judge this . cmon. do we not understand the timeline here

1) overlapping productions in the flurry after Sonic The Hedgehog’s unexpected but very welcomed success. could not find a date for when Sonic CD transitioned from a Sonic the Hedgehog remake to a whole new game but safe to assume it was somewhere around the same time in 1992

2) developed in entirely separate countries after multiple iterations by two separate groups hoping to add a female character to the cast for marketing purposes. we are all well aware of madonna.

3) extremely different roles? what role of amy’s did sally steal considering neither of them had a role? both of these characters were created whole cloth for their own narrative contexts and genres: amy in sonic cd is specifically there as a damsel to incite part of the plot; sally’s first appearances in the initial miniseries and the first chronological episode already skew towards the ‘voice of reason’ and leadership position. while an argument can be made that their roles began to converge after the Classic era, it’s not sally who changed dramatically.

i love amy so fuckin much but pitting two fundamentally different characters against each out and just. ignoring the well-documented history of the franchise is baffling to me. if anything, characterizing amy as a ‘voice of reason’ leader-type like sally is the real character assasination. amy’s whole arc is centered around becoming a hero of her own and has never involved leadership until IDW - which takes pains to clarify that that role also didn’t fit her and was an obligation she willingly gave up to pursue her own heroism again. it’s reductive to read both sally AND amy in the way people who pit them against each other do. sally and amy existed simultaneously through two decades of shifting attitudes around female characters in children’s media. characters change. this is how franchises work

[ereardon]

Snowed In || Sunday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else? 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 4.4K 

Masterlist here; Part two aka Saturday here

Jake reeled back from your slap, his face pink from the cold and the heat of your palm as it smacked his perfect tanned skin. His clear green eyes were wide with shock. 

“Ella, I—”

“No.” You shook your head, hair whipping at your cheeks. “What the fuck, Jake? You can’t run down the street like an inmate who escaped from Alcatraz and then just kiss me. You can’t spend eight years hating me and making fun of me and then turn around and say actually, no, that was all a facade, it’s because I’m a five year old boy who doesn’t know how to say he has a crush.” 

You could feel heat rising to your face despite the cold and your voice echoed off the nearby buildings. The few people who were within spitting distance turned their heads at your raised voices. 

“Are you doing this to embarrass me?” you demanded and to your horror, a small tear rolled down your cheek. You were surprised it didn’t freeze as it trailed downward. “Pretend to like me so that I fall for your charm and then when it’s over you just leave? Or maybe if I come onto you then you’ll back away and mock me. Is that it, Jake?” 

“Honey, no, absolutely not.” Jake stepped closer, holding out one hand hesitantly before pressing it to your cheek, thumb sweeping away your tears. “Ella. I meant what I said. No ulterior motives.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

Jake sighed, running his hand through his hair. The rush of cold air hit your face hard as he removed his hand. You had to give it to him. He looked distraught. If Jake Seresin, golden boy, was even capable of looking that way. “I don’t blame you,” he said after a moment. His eyes searched yours. “I’m sorry, Finn. For letting you think that I spent the last decade hating you. Couldn't be further from the truth.” 

“What’s the truth, Jake?” you gasped, air freezing in your lungs on its way down. 

“I think you know,” he whispered. 

You shook your head, backing away. “No. If there’s one thing the last twenty four hours has shown me, it’s that I don’t know you at all.” 

And then you were turning around, taking off down the street, following the path you had just chased Jake down but in reverse, eyes watering from the speed and the freezing wind whipping at your face and Jake’s voice calling after you was just a whisper that got picked up and sailed away in a gust.

You burst through the double doors of your apartment building. Gerry looked up, surprise lacing his weathered face. “Miss Ella. Everything OK?” 

You shook your head, heading for the elevators. “Do you believe in timing, Gerry?” 

“Yes, I do,” he replied as you pressed the button, finger shaking. “Met my wife at a New Year’s Eve party forty-three years ago. She was there with someone else and I was too. But it didn’t matter. It was the right place and the right time and everything since then has worked out in our favor.” 

You looked up at him. “That’s not helping, Gerry.” 

He smiled. “So he loves you.” 

“Never said that.” 

“Don’t need to say it,” he replied. “I can see it in your face.” The sound of the doors flinging open turned both of your attentions. Jake stood, barely winded, cheeks pink, eyes wide. Gerry added, “I see it in his, too.” 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Gerry held out one hand, pressing it open. 

“Goodnight you two,” he said. “Stay warm.” 

You stepped inside. “Goodnight, Gerry.” 

Jake stepped forward slowly, entering the elevator, his eyes trained on you, your eyes glued to the buttons on the far right wall. It was an agonizing ride up in silence. The heat from Jake’s gaze alone was enough to thaw you and by the time the two of you had ridden up five floors you were a melted puddle. 

After you unlocked the door and stepped inside, Jake stood, hesitating, on the threshold. 

You frowned. “What?”

He sighed. “I’ll leave, Ella. I’ll get out of your hair. But I just need to say one more thing.” 

“Where would you go?” you demanded. “It’s midnight and the city is practically shut down, Seresin.” 

Jake put his hands in his pockets. “I bought a unit in One57 last month.”

Your jaw went slack. One57 was one of the unbelievable skyscrapers on 57th Street aka Billionaires’ Row. It’s the most expensive building in the city, towering over the base of Central Park. Your eyes narrowed. “You’re fucking with me.” 

“I’m not.” 

“How could you afford that?” you demanded. “You can’t even afford a hotel.”

Jake smiled sadly. “Ella. I never said I couldn’t afford a hotel. I said you were my only option.” 

“That wasn’t true then,” you replied. “You have a fucking twenty million dollar condo sitting forty blocks north of here that’s probably filled with furniture that you’re not allowed to touch.” 

“It was partially true,” Jake said. His voice was much calmer than yours. His eyes were soft. Begging. This was Jake Seresin begging, you realized. “I spent years thinking that you were the one that got away, Ella. I had to come back and make sure of it.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. “And?” 

Jake stepped closer, crossing the threshold into the apartment. “Ella Finnley. I’ve enjoyed myself more the last two days than I have in the last five years. I came back because I thought that maybe there was a chance you’d be able to see me more as more than the douchebag that I was in college. That maybe you would be willing to look past who we were and focus on who we are now. You don’t know this, but I never stopped thinking about you.”

All you could feel was your heartbeat in your chest, the pulsing in your fingertips and neck and near your ear. Was this really happening?

“You’re intelligent and you’re so fucking sarcastic and you don’t take anyone’s bullshit and I couldn’t believe that when you opened the door on Friday that it was really you and that someone else hadn’t scooped you up years ago. And I thought maybe this was it. Maybe this was my chance to be happy.” 

“You’re rich,” you whispered, the words still sinking in. “You’re telling me that you, Jake Seresin, aren’t fulfilled?” 

He shook his head. “None of that shit matters, Ella. The money, the cars, the nice restaurants, the fancy clothes. You get sick of it after a while. I’d rather come home to this apartment every single night and sit on that uncomfortable couch with you and watch you read romance novel after romance novel and eat ramen noodles than go home to an empty apartment overlooking the park. Any fucking day.” 

“Jake.”

“It’s OK,” he whispered. “You don’t feel the same and I get that. Maybe I was stupid to try.” 

You stepped forward, closing the gap between the two of you, your chest practically grazing his as you breathed unsteadily. He was so fucking beautiful that it made you uncomfortable. “You are stupid,” you replied and Jake grinned. “That was never a question."

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he murmured, “and you’ll never have to see me again if you just answer one question.” 

“What is it, Seresin?” 

“Do you believe I changed? If not for you, just in general? Because that’s all I ever wanted, Ella. To be the kind of guy who was good enough.” 

You looked at him. How many times had you snuck sidelong glances at Jake Seresin while he and Suzannah were together? He was hot, even back then. Bronzed, muscular but not beefy, sweet Southern accent rendering anything he said charming with a side of cocky. Maybe you had only told yourself that you hated him because it was better than admitting the alternative. 

That you wanted Jake Seresin. But he hadn’t been yours to have. 

And now here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance. Asking if you saw his growth and change. Admitting that he had spent years of his life bettering himself so that one day he could stand in front of you a changed man and receive a simple acknowledgement. 

“Ella,” Jake whispered. “Tell me to go and I’ll go. I think this was a mistake.” 

“The mistake would be leaving before you convinced me why I should give you a chance to start with.” 

Jake smiled. “Convince you, huh?” 

You nodded. “I don’t know if you know this about me, Seresin, but I’ve been known to be stubborn.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It is,” you said slowly, reveling in the way Jake’s gaze never left yours. “So go on, Seresin. Why should I believe anything you’ve said in the last thirty minutes? How do I know it’s not some elaborate prank?” 

“You don’t,” he said. “None of us do, Finn. Life is a big cosmic joke. I’m just doing what we’re all doing. Trying to find that one person to spend your life with. Trying to find the person who makes you excited to get out of bed, the person you can’t get out of your head. The one person who sees you after everything you’ve done and still sees your potential, even when it was a bad day. The person who wants to celebrate with you on the good ones, too. The person who has more faith in you than you have in yourself.” 

“That’s a lot to put on a person, Jake,” you whispered. 

“I know it is, honey,” he murmured, raising one hand, skimming it along your cheek. “I can’t expect you to feel all those ways about me. Especially since up until yesterday I think you hated me. But tell me the truth. Do you feel differently about me right now, standing here, compared to yesterday when I showed up at this same doorstep?” 

“Yes.” It was automatic, the way the word tumbled out of your mouth.

He grinned. “Then anything is possible, Finn.” 

“You mean falling in love with you, Seresin?” 

“Maybe.” 

You shook your head, laughing. “You’re still cocky.”

“I’m working on it,” he murmured, hand sliding from your cheek, fingers wrapping slowly around your neck, thumb pressed tightly under your ear. “What do you say, Finn? Want to give me a chance?” 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” you said softly, closing the gap between the two of you as Jake’s fingers on your neck tightened and suddenly his lips were on yours, his hand on your waist bending you backward from the force of his kiss. Jake swiveled you around, closing the door with one hand, pressing you against the wall both gently and firmly at the same time, his free hand locked behind your head, cushioning you. 

Jake slotted one thigh between your legs, pressing upwards gently until you found yourself moaning into his mouth as he grinned. “Fuck,” he murmurred, pulling back two inches, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about that.” 

“Ten minutes,” you replied. 

Jake pulled back further, shaking his head, tracking one thumb pad over your swollen bottom lip. “Ella. Try ten years.” 

“Jake,” you murmured. 

He shook his head. “It’s OK if you don’t feel the same way,” he said quietly. “But if you want to stop, tell me and we stop.” 

You reached out and grabbed his collar, tugging him back in. “Don’t stop.” 

And then Jake’s mouth was on yours, his hands roaming over your chest and settling on your waist, pulling you in tightly before reaching down and hoisting you into his arms as you giggled. You didn’t even care that Jake’s shoes were tracking dirty snow into the apartment or that your jacket was brushing against the comforter as Jake sat you down gently on the edge of the bed. He stepped back, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes and you did the same, pulling your sweater overhead, locking eyes with Jake as you unbuttoned your jeans, shimmying out of them before settling back on the bed in a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra. “Fuck,” he murmurred, closing the gap between the two of you, his mouth hot on your neck as his fingertips pressed against your side. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 

 “You going to compliment me all night, Seresin?” 

Jake pulled his lips from where they had slid down to the tops of your breasts. “Yes,” he said confidently. “And you’re going to like it.” 

You flushed. “Then at least take your pants off.” 

Jake smirked, standing up and unbuttoning his pants, sliding them off. With one hand he grabbed the back of his shirt behind his neck, tugging it overhead in a single motion. You couldn’t help it. You gasped. Jake Seresin looked like a marble carving that would sit in the Louvre. 

He was stunning. 

Jake leaned in, shifting you further onto the bed, his lips grazing your breasts before dipping lower, trailing a wet line of kisses down to your navel. “Like what you see?” 

“Shut up,” you groaned, but the words turned into a string of moans as Jake’s mouth landed on your panties, warm breath heating between your legs. He knelt on the floor next to the bed in his tight briefs, fingertips scraping along your sides, one hand squeezing your breast before he slid the silky material to the side, exposing your soaking core. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning back to admire you. 

“Jake,” you whined, and he felt his heart start to rapidly beat in his chest. 

“I got you,” he murmured, sinking down, pressing his lips to your core, tongue darting out, spreading flat against your folds, tasting you for the first time. He hummed against you and you wiggled, but his hands held your hips steady, tugging you forward, consuming you. He was everywhere: his mouth on your clit, his tongue in your folds, his fingertips dragging along your hip bone under one sank deep inside of your walls, curling at the top, beckoning you to come. 

And you did. Unraveling at his touch, your moans filling the air as Jake plunged his fingers inside of your wet cunt, tongue lapping at your folds until you cried out. “Fuck!” 

Jake stood, hands still on your thighs as your chest heaved. Finally you pushed yourself up onto your elbows. There was an obvious tent in Jake’s tight black briefs. 

You smirked. “Want some help with that?” 

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours harshly, with one arm scooting beneath you and tossing you to the top of the bed as you let out a yelp. “You’re going to be the death of me, Finn,” he murmured, lips suctioned to your neck as you lifted your hips, brushing your soaking core against his hips. He was hard and you were desperate for him, your hand reaching out and grabbing him. Jake’s head collapsed against your neck as you smoothed your fingers over his bulge. “Fuck, Ella,” he whispered, voice thick and husky. “God, I want to be inside you so badly.” 

You pulled your hand away, shimmying off your underwear. “I need you.” 

Jake sat up. His green eyes were wide. “Sweetheart. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words come out of your mouth.” 

“Don’t make me beg, Seresin,” you whispered. 

“Wouldn’t dare.” 

Jake crawled out of his boxers and you had to stifle a gasp. His cock was thick and long, practically dripping with anticipation. He pulled your legs so your hips were closer to where he was kneeling on the bed, running the tip of his cock along your folds as you whimpered. 

“Condom,” he muttered.

“Top drawer.” 

Jake leaned over, opening the box as you undid the hooks on your bra, flinging it onto the floor in the living room. He sat back, seamlessly rolling a condom over his cock, fisting himself a few times, eyes trained between your legs. Finally, Jake lifted his gaze to you, hand still sliding up and down his length as he panted. “I’ve thought about this so many times.” 

“Please,” you whispered and Jake hinged forward, sliding the head of his cock against your entrance until it hooked inside of you, pressing in slowly as you moaned. “God, yes, oh, fuck!”

“Doing so good,” he murmured as your legs spread further to accommodate him. “Almost there baby.” 

Jake pushed the final inch in, stuffing you full. Your eyes flew open. Jake had one hand pressed to your cheek, the other resting on your leg, pulling it higher over his hip. Your mouth opened as he pulled back, pushing into you again, setting a soft, delectable rhythm. It was just you and Jake and the sounds of your body slowly coming together and backing away, over and over as his cock brushed your inner walls, begging you to come against him. 

“God you feel so perfect,” he groaned, fingertips pressing your thigh back further, letting his cock slide deeper inside of you. “I could live in your pussy.” 

You cried out as Jake brushed against your g-spot. He shifted his hand to your clit, pressing down gently and your eyes widened, Jake’s hips snapping against yours as his fingertips swirled on your swollen clit. “Oh, my God,” you breathed.    

“Come for me, please,” he begged, chest glistening with sweat as he thrust harder into you. “Please, baby, need to feel you coming while I’m inside of you.” 

“Oh, oh fuck!” you screamed as Jake pressed down, hard, against your clit, your vision going white for a split second as you broke apart along his length, shuddering, cursing as Jake grabbed your hips, driving his cock against your fluttering walls. 

“Ella, oh fuck! Jesus Chris, I’m gonna come!” And then he was filling the condom inside of you, collapsing so his chest was pressed against yours, his hips stuttering as he tried to slow his rhythm. “Fucking hell,” Jake whispered, rolling off of you gently, tugging off the condom and disposing it. He turned back, running one hand up your side. “You’re perfect.” 

And even though you were two orgasms deep, it had been almost a year since you had been touched before Jake. So when you leaned in to kiss him and his cock twitched against your bare leg, you smiled, pulling away. 

“What’s that look, Finn,” he asked. 

“Lay back,” you whispered, raking your fingertips down Jake’s rock hard abdomen, his cock already hardening against his thigh. 

“Oh, shit,” Jake muttered as you leaned down, taking his length into your hand, dribbling a ball of split onto the tip, massaging it over the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb. He laid back, eyes squeezed shut as you took him into your mouth, Jake’s fingers buried in your hair as he gasped, releasing himself against your throat, filling your mouth. When you pulled back, swallowing, wiping one thumb over your lips, his eyes fluttered open and he shook his head. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” 

After showering, the two of you fell into a tangle on the bed. 

“This is so much better than the couch,” Jake whispered. 

“Go to sleep, Seresin,” you complained, his hand spread warm against your lower stomach. 

Jake pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

Sometime just before sunrise, you woke up and looked over. Jake looked peaceful, golden hair spread out on the white pillowcase, one arm slung over the side of the bed, slumping down toward the ground, bare back and ass cheek visible from where he had thrown the covers off. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be asleep, naked, next to Jake Seresin. That you would be able to tolerate being alone with him at all. 

But two days had changed everything. 

***

The sound of yelping woke you up a second time. The room was bright, light streaming in from the windows. You couldn’t tell yet if it was the brightness of snow or the winter sun blaring through. 

Next to you, the bed was empty. 

There was the yelp again, coming from the kitchen. Jake emerged a minute later wearing a pair of boxers but no shirt, carrying two cups of coffee. The minute he saw you sitting up, the covers pulled up around your bare chest, he grinned. “Morning Finn.” 

“What are you doing in there?” you asked. 

“Frying bacon,” Jake replied, setting down the coffee mugs on the nightstand to your right. Just as you raised your nose to sniff in the air, he grabbed your face with both hands, landing a kiss right on your lips. As if it was the most normal thing in the world. Like the two of you had woken up together for a hundred weekends in a row. When he pulled away, you felt your breath catch. Was this what it was supposed to be like? “Stay there,” he commanded. “And don’t you dare get dressed.” 

You leaned back, the sheets tucked beneath your arms, and grabbed one of the coffee cups as Jake scurried back to the kitchen. A few more yelps later and he emerged with a plate of bacon, two muffins and scrambled eggs. “Where did you get this?” you asked, picking up a piece of bacon and sliding it into your mouth. “Fuck that’s good.” 

“Snuck out while you were snoring.” 

You slapped his bicep and he chuckled. Jake was so muscular it didn’t even affect him. You let your fingers linger there for a moment before pulling them away. “I don’t snore.” 

“You do,” Jake said, a piece of bacon sticking out of his mouth. “It’s cute.” 

“No snoring is cute.” 

“Anything you do, Ella Finnley, is adorable.” A blush crept up your neck toward your face. You realized for a moment you had no makeup on. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this close to a man without makeup on. 

“Wait.” You frowned. “You went out this morning?” Jake nodded. “What about the snow?” 

“It’s gone.” 

“What!” You rushed out of bed, practically tripping on a corner of the rug, smashing your hands against the window. 

Jake was right. The streets which the night before had been layered with snow, were clear. Instead, they had been replaced by the usual threads of traffic: honking taxis and black town cars and every Toyota under the sun filled with Uber drivers. The sidewalks were congested once again. 

It was like the storm had never happened. 

You looked over at Jake, eyes wide. That was it. The magic of the snow was gone, replaced by the smell of the subway steam hot on the grates and hordes of pedestrians cluttering Fifth Avenue. 

Jake got out of bed, grabbing his henley shirt from where it was folded on his suitcase and handing it to you. You blushed, realizing for the first time that you were butt ass naked, standing in the middle of the room. The shirt was soft as you pulled it overhead and smelled like Jake: coffee, cinnamon, vetiver. The sleeves were long and you balled the excess fabric into your fists. 

This was the part of the movie where the princess turned back into a pumpkin. 

“Jake, I—”

“I’m staying,” he said, his words overlapping yours. 

“What?” 

“In New York. I’m leaving San Francisco,” he said. “That’s why I’m here. I’m moving my company’s headquarters out of the Bay and into the city.” 

“Company?” 

“I own FreeTek.” 

Your head felt heavy. Congested. FreeTek was one of those Forbes 100 companies. The kind with billion-dollar valuations and IPOs that they had billboards for in Times Square. It was a tech company that also helped to build schools in Africa and Central America. 

Your eyes boggled. Jake reached out, one hand cupping your neck gently. “Ella. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“We don’t even know each other, Jake,” you replied. “You’re just some guy that my roommate used to fuck.” 

He looked hurt, lips pressed into a line. “We know enough,” he said. “And what we don’t know, we’ll learn.” 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“It could be.” 

“Fuck, Seresin, I don’t know, OK. Two days ago I hated your guts.” You looked up at Jake and he chuckled. “One really good fuck can’t change everything.” 

“Really good, huh?” 

“Don’t be so proud,” you said. “It had been a while. I probably would have gone home with Raji, the bodega guy in about a week if you hadn’t come along.” 

“Does Raji kiss you like this?” And then Jake’s lips were on yours, his hands traveling down your back, pulling you in tight, holding your chest to his. 

When the two of you broke apart, he brushed the hair from your face before letting go, taking a step back. 

“I waited ten years, Finn,” he said softly. “What’s another week or another month?” 

“What do you think is going to happen in a week or a month?” you asked. 

Jake grinned. “You’ll realize the fairytale doesn’t end here, Ella. You and me, that’s how this story ends.” 

You shook your head, reaching out, wrapping your arms around Jake’s neck, tugging him in close. “God you’re a conceited dick, aren’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

You rolled your eyes as Jake smirked. “Alright, prince charming. Let’s go see this palatial apartment of yours.” 

Jake slipped his arms around your waist. “Is it bad I’m hoping there’s another storm so I can trap you inside again and have you all to myself for another weekend?” 

You looked outside. The sky was perfectly clear. Blue skies and small puffy clouds as far as the eye could see beyond the buildings. It was as if the snowstorm had never happened. 

And then, so fast if you had blinked you would have missed it, a snowflake drifted in your field of vision, hovering in the air outside your fifth-story window. 

You grinned. “Be careful what you wish for, Seresin.” 

Jake kissed the top of your head.   

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @buckysteveloki-me  @eli2447 @bellaireland1981 @seresinslady @hookslove1592 @shotclock24seconds @fanficfandomlove @ryebecca @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @t8r-tots

[misscrawfords]

Ok I keep seeing you reblogging things from the Count of Monte Cristo and I feel like I really need to watch this too??

I mean...... yes and no?

You absolutely need to read The Count of Monte Cristo - watch? Well.

There are two adaptations in the last year. The first was a French feature film which conveyed the insanity of the book pretty well and was very entertaining but also changed about 70% of the plot and missed out entire characters and plots. As you'd expect condensing a 1000 page novel into a feature film. I'd recommend it for the immaculate vibes but it's not faithful.

The second was a 8 hour miniseries in English created by French and Italian TV which has so far only been broadcast on Italian TV and I've no idea when it might be coming out in English. Honestly... I was disappointed. I watched it all but half of that was for the nostalgia of watching period drama in Italian and seeing all the Rai Uno adverts. The thing is, this adaptation is kind of like the opposite to the film. It does its best to be faithful to the plot (though it still condenses and omits a lot) but it takes it way too seriously and because it tries to fit everything in, it just sort of touches on every plot very superficially so I ended up struggling to care about any of it. All plot, no vibes. I think if you watched this miniseries you wouldn't really get the beauty of the novel!

So you should basically just commit to a 1000 page 19th century novel. (Listen. You can do this, Claire. I know you can do it. :P ) The Count of Monte Cristo has everything anyone could ever want from a novel:

sword fighting

philosophy

serial killer(s)

Napoleonic political intrigue

ridiculous disguises

bandits

star-crossed romance

tragedy

farce

surprise lesbians!

financial swindling

diamonds

drugs and opium trips

swashbuckling on the high seas

Parisian high society

mystery benefactors

priests who are priests

priests who aren't priests

war crimes

betrayal

revenge

opera

carnival

set all around the Mediterranean- a literary cruise

Orientalism (but also interesting POC representation - Alexandre Dumas was Black)

I rise up from the dead I do it all the time

It's honestly a CRAZY novel. Like Dickens, it was written in instalments and it just meanders around in different directions but everything actually does hang together really well with different plots coming together in unexpected ways. It is ultimately a serious novel about revenge and justice and how playing God corrupts a human being... but also, it's ridiculous and entertaining and just makes you want to keep reading!

I'm so obsessed that I put it down as the "book closest to my heart" on a questionnaire for a speed dating event I'm going to in a book shop this week! (Which is also a sentence that needs unpicking tbf.) I just need to remember not to monologue about it for ten minutes to unsuspecting punters... Thank you for giving me the opportunity!

[stray-kaz]

Masterlist

Fandom works! So much here...

All reader inserts are female.

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

T.L.C.

Girl Dad

Reds and Whites

Not Even a Candle

Reparations - 18+

Prologue   One   Two   Three   Four

Snow & Ice - 18+

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven   Eight   Nine   Ten   Eleven   Twelve   Thirteen

Frank Castle

Kiss Cam

A Touch of Crazy

Brothers In Arms

Frank Castle x Family headcanons

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

Time and Time and Time Again - 18+

A Baby Shower for Frankie

Two Pink Lines

Two to Tango - 18+

Baby Talk

Paper Ring

Blooded

The Opposite of Soft - 18+

Gone Off Half Cocked - 18+

Butterflies On Fire

A Stitch in Time

Look Where You’re Going

I Do

Matt Murdock

On Blind Faith - 18+

ONE   TWO   THREE   FOUR   FIVE   SIX   SEVEN   EIGHT   NINE   TEN

Headcanons

Steve Rogers

I Love You, But... - 18+

Shadow and Bone

Jesper Fahey

A Better Distraction - 18+ - Completed

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven   Eight   Nine   Ten   Eleven Twelve

Kiss & Tell

A Good Shot

Ruse

Little Lantsov

An Unexpected Prince - sequel to Little Lantsov

Tender

Trigger

Swap With Me - 18+

He’s A Criminal and He’s Mine

Safe Inside, Out of the Rain

Laundry Day

The Law of Loss

You’re The Reason I Hate Champagne

There Goes My Life - An Assortment

One Two Three Four Five Six

Mal Oretsev

Twice Wounded - sorta 18+

Nikolai Lantsov

Patched - 18+

All Patched Up - 18+ - sequel to Patched

Monkey in the Air

Daddy and The Fox

To Be His Queen - 18+

Kaz Brekker

Stray - request prompt

A Murder of Crows - Miniseries

Part One Part Two

Memento Mori - request prompt

Green - request prompt

Love is a Battlefield

Set, Charge, Boom

The Magpie Verses - Completed

Take Off The Mask , Caught , The Crow and The Magpie , Unmasked

Aleksander Morozova

Trouble Just Walked In - sorta 18+

Matthias Helvar

Scrubbed Clean

Tolya Yul-Bataar

Awoken

Top Gun: Maverick

Bob Floyd

A Soft Landing - 18+

Red Flag Week

Baby. On. Board.

Jake Seresin

Out of Bounds I, II, III, IV, V, VI - 18+

Bradley Bradshaw

Jukebox Jive

Lockwood and Co.

George Karim

Death and Doughnuts

A Personal Experiment - 18+

Stuck in the Middle With You - 18+ - requested

Oh Dear Baby - fic idea from @the-biscuit-agreement​

Oh How Time Flies - sequel to Oh Dear Baby​

Ghosts I Get, People Are Crazy

Anthony Lockwood

Between a Tree and a Lockwood - sorta 18+

Honey, I’m Home - 18+

Delirium

His Mistake

The Invitation

Walt de Ville

The Flower and The Serpent - 18+

one    two   three   four   five   six   seven   eight   nine   ten

Little Women (2019)

Laurie

Sugar & Spice - 18+

one

two

Zombies (Disney)

Zed Necrodopolis

Awkward Question

Betwixt

Midnight Resolution - 18+

Leo Grande

Three Day Hire - 18+

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven

A Very Grande Christmas

Austin!Elvis

Sky High

The School for Good and Evil

Rafal Mistral

The Sky Is Falling

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

Under The Blood Moon - 18+

The Heirloom and The Heir

Evil, Be Mine

You Shall Be Loved

Rhian Mistral

The Storian’s Favour

Back from the Brink

Bubbles

To Sleep and Not To Wake

Ben Hardy Characters

Billy / Four

Hold Me Close, Don’t Let Go - 18+

The Witcher

Istredd

Chasing Fire - 18+

One Piece Live Action

Roronoa Zoro

Buoyant

A Book and A Nap

Starless - 18+

First Kiss, Last Kiss

Keeping Watch - 18+

Double The Bounty - 18+ - Part One  Part Two

Sanji

Tall Blond Pacifier

Sand and Stars

Wind and Rain - 18+

Monkey D. Luffy

First Blushes

Usopp

In The Moment

OPLA Men

Dance With Me

Christmas Drabbles 2023

Scent of Pine - Shanks

Neatly Tied With A Bow - Mihawk

Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice - Sanji

The Perfect Excuse - Zoro

Fullmetal Alchemist

Edward Elric

Happy Birthday To You

Rest and Recuperation - 18+

Tale of the Nine Tailed

Lee Yeon

Need - 18+

Sweet Home

Cha Hyun-su

Sunshine Part One - 17+

Let Me Do It

A Shop For Killers

Jeong Jin-man

Breathing

Time - 18+

Misc.

Ready or Not - 18+

Original Writing

Top Drawer

Quiet Peace

The Hat - 18+

Pirate Intro

Sweetness

Bandaged

To The Sea, My Love, To The Sea

The Uncanny Counter

So Mun

Oops!

Love & Pragmatism

To Spar or Not to Spar

Wong Yeok

Illicit - 18+