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certaimromance · 1 month

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ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation Of Love.

Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer!reader

Summary: When you arrive at the police station to defend a client's innocence, you don't expect the man accusing her to be the same man you've been dating for months.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: mentions of crime and serial killers (normal warnings in the series). established relationship. aaron already divorced. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I just love Hotch and wanted to write something with him here. To me, he is definitely the kind of man who is so tired from work that he tries not to mention it on a date (of course, after all the trauma he has been through).

Also, I'm warning you that this is all very chaotic because I'm doing a lot of serious writing lately and I need pink love, comforting and even uncomfortable chaos to relax. So I've been re-watching the first season of the show (sorry, I'm just a girl and not a fan of the last few seasons🥲) and I want to salvage a little of the Hotch we were introduced to before so much misfortune befell him.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

It wasn't that you were annoying, particularly aggressive, or obsessed with being right, you just did your job to the best of your ability. Even if that meant being the villain of other people's stories and mentally going over every law to make sure it was obeyed.

The issue was that not everyone saw it the same way. In the workplace, where you managed, your exact memorization of the rules wasn't always appreciated if you were the one carrying the defense and doing everything to overthrow the other side's theories. For the same reason, you usually had to argue with cops, prosecutors, judges, and—on this occasion—even an FBI agent who wasn't happy with your presence.

You had in your hands an alleged confession of several murders delivered by your client under the coercion of the man who was interrogating her, without your presence there and with some pretty questionable methods to put her in an empty room without concrete evidence or an order from the judge. Unbelievably, it was a fairly common occurrence in your day-to-day work.

At least it was until the boss of the agent you were arguing with showed up and everything started to get complicated.

“What's going on here?”

The cross words and your intensity in emphasizing the injustice of the manipulation of the confession did not allow you to realize that there was someone else in the room. Much less that it was someone who looked exclusively at you until one of the police officers present cleared his throat.

“There has been a violation of the law.” You slowly turned to look behind you, and that's when you saw him.

Aaron stood stiffly, trying to look professional and serious, wearing a tie that matched your dress.

“There wasn't one, Hotch. We just got the confession.” Agent Morgan interjected into the silence provoked by the exchange of glances between you and his supervisor.

For the first time in the half hour you'd been there, you were completely silent. Even when two more agents showed up to try to defuse the situation, you didn't stop repeating the same arguments and insisting on your point. Now, however, you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

There was a long pause before Aaron spoke carefully. “I'll take care of clarifying the situation.”

Trying to remain serious and stoic, he led you to one of the station's offices with the excuse that he wanted to talk about the case quietly so as not to attract the attention of his team. The strange thing was that he called you by name in front of everyone, without anyone having introduced you before. Maybe one of you two would have noticed if you had been a little less attentive to the other and more attentive to how the situation looked in the other's eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as soon as he closed the door behind you, loosening the tension in his jaw a little, at least now it was just the two of you.

“Where's my 'Good to see you, sweetie. Please don't sue us' or anything like that?”

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, hoping you would take it seriously. Automatically and unconsciously, he had begun to move away from you and sat down on the other side of the desk, marking a distance between the two of you. Aaron had brought out his work side and you had hidden it at the mere sight of him.

“The woman your team pressured into confessing to a crime is my client.” You finally spoke in a serious tone, staring at him with some surprise. This wasn't the usual dynamic with him—you usually had a more relaxed side to him.

“Since when do you take cases like this?”

“Since it's been assigned to me.” You said, raising your shoulders. “One of the buffet partners is on vacation and left me to his clients, as I mentioned the other night.”

The other night when you were in his car, when he had his hand on your thigh as he drove home, when he smiled at you every chance he got to turn around and look at you. When the two of you weren't on completely different sidewalks and weren't supposed to act like strangers.

“This is pretty weird.” You said after watching him for a few seconds and noticing that he seemed lost in his memories. “I hope the agent I was arguing with isn't your friend. That would be awkward.”

Aaron looked at you, trying to figure out what could have happened before he showed up. He already knew you were a good lawyer, very capable and, above all, a good striker. It was too weird for him to think that you had been using your skills against his own team, against the friends he once wanted to introduce you to and that you had now met for the first time in the most unimaginable way.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look at me like I'm a ghost.”

His brow furrowed again.

He didn't want to say out loud that everything related to his work had ended badly and was completely destroyed, just like his ex-marriage and any attempt to fix it. He had always felt comfortable with you because your work was just as demanding but less dangerous than his. You usually handled family cases, divorces, estates, and coordinating child care. You were away from the blood, the killers, and all the atrocities he lived with.

“I'm worried about you being in the middle of this. It can be dangerous.” He showed his concern for you and had to hold back from holding your hand.

“You should worry more about the lawsuit.” You pointed out in a tone somewhere between teasing and serious. You didn't like him worrying too much. “I'm very good.”

“This is serious.” He finally let his guard down and placed his hand on your knee from under the table, giving it a gentle touch.

That was the man you know and love.

“Me too, it's my job.”

“And you're making my job harder.” He pointed out with a small smile in response to yours.

What were the chances of your love life and work life crossing paths like this? You thought they were pretty slim, which is why you steered clear of talking about work when you were together.

You were just about to answer when you heard a tap on the door and one of the agents who had been watching you during your discussion came over to give Aaron some information about the profile. You couldn't understand him very well because he seemed to be speaking in code because of your presence.

“I'll be there in a moment, Rossi. Get the team together and we'll talk.” Hotchner finished earnestly. You could still feel the warmth of his touch on your knee. “I'm just finishing up here.”

As soon as he left the office, you looked at Aaron with surprise.

“Is he who you always mention?” You asked, and he nodded. “I thought it was 'Rosie,' not 'Rossi,' and that he was a woman.”

“Now I understand why you grimace when I mention his name.” He replied with some amusement. “You were jealous.”

Yes, especially when you found out that they'd shared a room once.

“Don't mock me, I'm about to sue you.” You advertiste in a fake threatening tone, pointing a finger at him. “And I don't care how handsome you look right now, I'll do my job.”

“Me too.” He replied, trying to ignore your compliment to keep a serious expression on his face. “And you look pretty too, I like that dress.”

The love between you seemed to be bubbling anyway, and it was impossible to hide it when you had breakfast together just a few hours ago. You went from making him coffee to offering him a lawsuit if he didn't agree with you.

“I know, I'll use this dress while I debunk your profile theory.” You got up from your seat suddenly after taking your phone out of your bag. It was then that you looked him in the eye. “Are you going to release my client now or should I call the judge?”

“You're not going to take a suspect in five murders. I'm not going to let her off the hook.” He copied your action.

“Give me the evidence then, love.”

Oh, to call him that at that point was a cheap shot, especially when you were the one who won because he had no concrete evidence, only theories and his complex profile.

“But stay away from her anyway, she can be dangerous. My agents will keep an eye on her.” He snorted after a few seconds, trying to find an argument, but failing.

At that moment, you gave him a little smile, proud of yourself and what you had accomplished. “See you at dinner?”

“Sure.” He replied without being able to help but give you a small smile in return. “But I'll pick the place.”

“Well, that's an argument I'll let you win.” You put your phone back in your bag and took a couple of steps towards the door, stopping when you saw him coming after you. “Can I kiss my opponent?”

“This is pretty unprofessional.” He said, putting a hand on your waist and leaning you against the door. Without hesitation, he kissed you firmly on the lips.

After a few minutes, the two of you walked out of the office as if nothing had happened, and the professional scene continued. Your heels clicked towards the exit with your client at your side, while Aaron met with his team, trying to find new ways to solve the case and refine the profile. The only problem was that he happened to be working with people who were very detail-oriented.

And, gosh, it was impossible not to notice the traces of your lipstick on his lips.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #thomas gibson

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lucyandthepen · 8 months

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last young renegade | jjh

summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)

pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k

a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!

Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.

♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?

At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.

You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.

It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off.

While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.

Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.

Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.

You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.

♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡

When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.

You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.

He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.

“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”

“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”

“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”

“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”

“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”

“And? What did you say?”

“I said it was none of his damn business.”

Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.

Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.

He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.

The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.

Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.

You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately.

“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”

“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”

“You know you can’t! Give it back.”

“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”

Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.

“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.

“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”

“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”

“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”

“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”

“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”

“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”

“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.

All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.

There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.

His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.

“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”

Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.

“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”

There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’

“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”

“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”

“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”

Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.

“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”

“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”

“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”

“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.

It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.

The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.

Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.

He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.

You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.

You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.

His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.

He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.

“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”

“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”

“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”

“Won’t you be too busy?”

“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”

You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.

Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.

Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.

The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.

You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.

But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.

Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.

Then again, this isn’t all up to you.

You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.

His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.

He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.

“How did it go?”

“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”

“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.

You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.

“You love me, right?”

It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You know I do.”

“A lot, right?”

“A lot,” you confirm softly.

“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”

“Jaehyun—”

“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”

Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.

“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”

You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.

“I believe you.”

“And you trust me, right?”

“With my life.”

“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”

He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.

“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”

“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”

He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.

“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”

“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”

“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”

“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.

“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”

Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.

“You know I love you, right?”

You smile slightly. “No but?”

“No but,” he agrees.

The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.

“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”

When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.

Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.

Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.

And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.

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4dkellysworld · 25 days

Text

After deciding 'it is done'

This is more of a manifestation themed post (it's a draft from March when I spontaneously felt like writing it but didn't post it) because I felt like it but I'd appreciate if I didn't get any asks about manifestation* (unless I change my mind later) cos I'll share what I can and there's a lot of material available already! You can see my past post on this topic here. For more posts on it, see @4dbarbie-archive and realisophie's posts here and here and there's also some over at @ndjournal in the experience sharing tag.

*Also because I don't want to send mixed messages to the readers of this blog. I see conscious manifestation as a way to challenge & break limitations and concepts from the mind, not to get things in the world (kinda like Neo learning to bend the spoon in the Matrix if you get me lol). The latter will only pull you deeper into ego and the world, which isn't conducive to self-realization (if that's your goal) if you're focused on satisfying ego and the worldly life. If that makes sense and you resonate and agree with that, then we are on the same page but not everyone is and that's okay too, just do what feels right to you. Just sharing my reasoning :)

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I've been reading this book called Parallel Universes of Self because I read the author Frederick Dodson had an interesting reality shifting experience. I didn't expect to read info on manifestation but they are pretty much the same. I have a few books of his that I'm skimming through out of curiosity and there's some interesting stuff (I might share some other things later, he doesn't just talk about manifestation, but also consciousness, reality and even non-duality).

I thought I'd share the below excerpt because it's explained really well and might help some others. It's also a nice succinct summary of what Ada and Soph talked about for materialization/manifestation as well. I can remember pretty much 95% of the things I've ever "manifested" were from when I acted the way he described after I had decided "it is done". It's easier to do this for things you don't care about because you just end up forgetting about it entirely and then it shows up and you're like 'oh yeah!! nice'.

In the hours, days and weeks after simply rest in the new viewpoint, rest in the fulfilled reality. This means that you don’t try to “make it happen” because you have already claimed it as real. You don’t affirm, visualize, repeat or wait for it. You don’t hope for it to come in some future. Because you have claimed it as already real you don’t even think about it much either. You don’t ask when, how, where it will show up. Instead you simply do what offers itself to you throughout the day, and this will involve commonplace activities. Daily life continues in a natural manner without neediness or lack. Once in awhile you may want to re-feel the body sense of the chosen reality, and enjoy what you have claimed as true, but often not even that is necessary. Furthermore you needn’t be “acting as if” the desired reality is manifest, for that still implies separation. Simply cease to behave in a way that presupposes that it is not already so. You may refuse to ascribe relevance or importance to any events that seem to contradict your newly chosen reality. From the new viewpoint such events may still exist and come up but they are no longer relevant enough to be reacted to and interacted with. They may be the way things are at the moment, but they are no longer the way you are. The corresponding physical manifestation will appear when you stop needing it, chasing after it, looking for it but are instead willingly and lovingly identified with it…not for the sake of “making it manifest” *, but for the sake of experiencing its joy in the here, now and today. *Because trying to make it happen/manifest reinforces the idea/belief that it isn't

This is the same as what 4dbarbie said about getting ego out of the way or as Lester Levenson said, let go and let God. Just let it happen and stop trying to control the process because the more you try, the more you reinforce the fact that it isn't already so. Basically stop putting in effort once you know it is true, just continue knowing with calm and ease that it is the way you want it. Ada also said here:

If you have thoughts like "I need to say my affirmations", "I need to check my state", you're not living in the end but still desiring. When you're able to look at the thing you desire as being something that was once a dream, but now only a memory - you've entered the state of the wish fulfilled. When desire turns into identity, you know you've succeeded in fulfilling yourself.

Yes we're conditioned to think we need to work hard and put effort to earn things in the world but when it comes to manifesting, this sort of mentality will only sabotage and hinder your success. You can literally just decide you have it and then never look back. This sort of mindset can take a bit of time and practice to get used to because it is not something we're used to but the more you practice, the easier it gets.

Here is an excerpt from an astral projection book (I think it's from The Illusion of Method?) I thought was really apt at describing this too. He's talking about AP but you can apply it to manifesting or pretty much anything as well.

Unless you are masochistic, I ask you to reconsider the painful idea of obsessing about time. Bear in mind that results will come whenever they have to, and counting the minutes won't make the outcome arrive faster. It's best if you just forget about it, and accept that it is something that you can't control. You must be patient—most of the time the desired results arrive immediately after giving up control of time. If you are frustrated and/or are afraid of failure, then it means you believe you are in control—and this translates into the feeling that you are responsible for both positive and negative results. Well then, stop thinking that way! Exempting yourself from responsibility is the best course of action there is. As seen in the previous chapter, those who project on command are the ones who couldn’t care less about AP. But the more you obfuscate yourself, the lesser your chances of success —and trust me, you won’t want to get trapped in that vicious cycle. Astral projection works when you stop worrying about failure because you trust that it will happen, whether you “do” something or not.

It’s the same thing: just in the same way that being hasty for sleep to occur keeps us wakeful and alert, being expectant over the OBE will keep us caged in the physical body. If the mind is constantly thinking about the goal, it can easily enter a state of expectancy* and impatience. In such state, the mind is no longer relaxed because expectancy is a state of unrest. This form of tension is what hinders the outcome—thus, the key to being relaxed (i.e., essentially lacking mental tension) is to forget about the goal entirely. If you don’t have the goal in mind you don’t enter a state of expectancy, and therefore you are free from mental tension. *expectancy is the same energy as trying to make something happen.. reinforcing the idea/belief that it isn't so

So, exempt yourself from responsibility means there's nothing more to do because ego is not in control and can do nothing.

#writings #from my drafts

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etherealyoungk · 1 year

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third time's a charm - kim mingyu

summary: you and mingyu are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts for wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but life's not always fair and you and mingyu end up having to work together. a little bit of angst, spice, fluff, and mutual pining turns into a cute one-shot.

pairing: chef!mingyu x chef!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers kinda, fluff, angst, kissing, suggestive and suggestive language, implied smut, mentions of alcohol, use of curse words, and mingyu being an annoying ass but <3 he's so fine

word count: 6.5k // lowercase intended

a/n: a repost of my chef mingyu series as a one-shot. i had so much fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading it.

chef!mingyu and you are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but then one day you both get hired for a private event because the person who was getting married likes both of your food and couldn't choose. they asked if you both could maybe collaborate and work. you would have said no but the money was too good to lose out on. so here you are bickering with mingyu as you sit late at night in his restaurant trying to decide the menu for the wedding event. he'll just be so fucking cocky with a stupid smirk plastered on his face because he's just that confident about his skills and cooking and you both just can't seem to agree on anything.

"you're so annoying god, how am i supposed to work with you", you mumble. "come on baby, let's both put aside our differences and work like professionals hm", mingyu says.

"i swear if you stress me out i will kill you", you say. "ah don't worry, besides i know some ways we can destress", he says giving you a wink and making you almost choke on the water you were sipping on.

you both have to taste test the menu first before finalizing it so you head to Mingyu’s restaurant the next day and it’s just you two alone in the kitchen as you cook the dishes, mingyu is in charge of starters and mains while you were in charge of the two desserts. mingyu will not shy away from taunting you and just trying to flirt and mess with you because he's a jerk like that but fuck he looked so hot when he was in his element cooking. he tastes your dishes and will be surprised at how good it is. "it's pretty good", he admits. "duh what did you think", you reply annoyed. "thought it would taste like shit", he says and you smack his arm. "i told you not to get on my nerves", you warn and he just chuckles saying sorry as he licks the plate clean.

then on the day of the event somehow you ended up with missing ingredients so you had to make do with what you had, having a full panic attack as you try to stay calm and finish cooking in the time given. mingyu surprisingly wouldn't be a jerk that day and would come to help you re-plan your menu and dishes and once his service was over, he'd come and help you plate the desserts. finally done with the hectic day, you both head home and you end up crashing in mingyu's place because you had a little too much to drink. you would wake up wondering where the hell you were in the morning until you see a shirtless mingyu in front of you and the smell of something sweet in the air.

"are you awake baby? i didn't know if you liked pancakes or french toast so i made both", he says with a smile. you can't seem to remember anything from the night before but seeing mingyu shirtless and you in one of mingyu's shirts in his bed makes you start thinking things.

"did we...sleep together?", you ask and he just smirks. "why baby don't you remember?", he teases, putting the plate down on the table. "n-no", you mumble. "if you're teasing me i swear i will kill you", you say giving him a death stare. "i mean you were pretty much all over me last night", he says and your jaw drops. "liar". he shakes his head. "i had to lock the guest room and sleep because i was so scared", he adds and you roll your eyes. "but if you do want to sleep together, i'd be more than happy to oblige", he says with wink as he grins, leaning forward making your breath hitch. god, he was so annoying.

after you woke up in mingyu's bed that day you're just not able to stop thinking about him and it just annoys you even more because his stupid smirk is engraved in your mind. "if you want to sleep with me, i'd be happy to oblige?" that fucker. you mumble to yourself and head to the restaurant that day and try to tune out mingyu. but then just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse, it does. your ex-partner decided to give you a visit because they were 'missing you' and you're just even more ticked off because of the way they're pitying you and thinking your life sucks because they’re not with you anymore. the way they’d be just boasting about their life now and just thinking you didn't move on was infuriating.

"so did you move on from me? i know you loved me so the breakup must have hit you hard", they say, making you absolutely seeth with anger. who the hell did they think they were? just then you spot mingyu from the corner of your eye. you had forgotten you had asked him to come over because you had forgotten your wallet at his place and he offered to come to drop it off back to you that evening.

so you put on your fakest smile and do something stupid but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"baby, you're finally here!", you say loudly, walking over to mingyu as he comes up to you both. you latch your arm around mingyu's, leaning your head on his arm. "i was waiting for you", you add looking at mingyu as you bat your eyelashes at him. mingyu would just be so confused and literally, just be like wtf as he looks at you. you give him a small nudge with your elbow, as you side-eye your ex hoping he'll get the message and play along. and thankfully he does. he smiles, and his arm goes around your waist, pulling you closer than you already were. "were you waiting long? the traffic was horrible", he says. your ex just watches all this unfold. "oh, you should meet my boyfriend", you say as you look at your ex. they just gives you both a stiff smile. "we should head home soon hm, i have something special planned", mingyu adds, leaning in to kiss your cheek, catching you off guard. you ex excuses himself and finally heads off. you watch as he leaves, rolling your eyes.

"that asshole", you mutter. "who do they think there are huh, can't believe i actually dated a piece of shit like them", you add, clearly frustrated. a few more profanities leave your lips while mingyu just looks at you, amused at the situation he's been caught in. you don't even realize that you're still holding mingyu's hand until you feel him squeeze your hand ever so slightly. so you look down and look back up at him before letting go of his hand. not going to lie, he would be a bit :\ because of how fast you let go of his hand but he won't say anything.

"so i'm your boyfriend now hm", he says with that stupid smile as he raises an eyebrow. "noo", you defend and he'll pout. "kidding, anyways who was that guy?", he prompts. "my ex, that little shit", you say and mingyu can tell you're extremely annoyed. "here's your wallet", he says as he hands it to you, fetching it from his pocket. "thank you", you say, really grateful this time, because as annoying as he was, he was still a nice guy.

mingyu would offer to drive you home and you agree because it was raining and you didn't really have any other means of transportation so late at night. "i could really use a drink or two", you say as mingyu drives. so that's how you end up in a bar nearby, having a heart-to-heart conversation with mingyu - your rival in business and the guy to who you refused to believe you were attracted. and once again, you find yourself waking up in an unfamiliar bed, only to realize it's mingyu's bed...again. "fuck", you mutter as you try to get out of bed, but mingyu enters - shirtless of course.

"awake baby? i think i'm having deja-vu", he says, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you. "i'm sorry...you could have just dropped me home", you add. "but you basically passed out on the couch, how the hell was i supposed to drop you off home in that state", he counters. fair point. "okay im sorry. i'll treat you to lunch and dinner for letting me crash the night", you add and he smiles satisfied with the deal.

"so...do you remember what happened last night?", he adds, with a glint in his eyes. "hm what happened?", you ask, confused. you again have no recollection of the night before. he clicks his tongue. "im disappointed baby, i thought you would remember", he says as he walks up to the bed. "why...what happened?", you ask, unsure. "you really don't remember?", he frowns and shakes his head. "you don't remember asking me to sleep with you? i had to pry you off me", he says and you are horrified. "what…i would never....i didn't", you stutter. "hell you even tried to steal a few smooches". "stop lying i swear i will actually strangle you", you tell making him chuckle, showing his pretty smile. "no but you really did ask me to sleep with you baby", he says completely serious this time and you can feel your cheeks heat up because what the fuck. you really must've had too much to drink.

"it must've been a while since your last partner if you're so desperate for me", he'll tease. asshole. "i'll happily oblige if you ask me sober though", he adds with a wink making you whack him with the pillow.

you'll go home that day annoyed, hot, and bothered and won't be able to stop thinking about mingyu and his stupidly handsome face and body.

doesn't it suck to have the person you hate on your mind constantly? expect it wasn't exactly hate with mingyu. it was more how you just refused to believe you were attracted to him that made you think about him even more. not to mention you were business rivals, so you didn't want to do anything stupid.

it's been a few weeks and as much it pained you to admit it, you did wish mingyu stopped by but he hadn't in the last few weeks. and just as you were locking up and about to leave, you see a familiar figure strolling inside your restaurant - mingyu.

"what do you want?", you ask coldly, tired from the long day. "now is that how you greet a friend?", he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. you noticed how the shirt he was wearing just hugged his body and arms, showing off his biceps. and he was wearing glasses too. fuck he looked so hot tonight. you cleared your throat before speaking.

"im tired okay, what's up?", you repeat. "just came for dinner", he prompts and you're lost. "sorry what? we're closed", you say. "did someone forget they owe me lunch and dinner? how ungrateful", he says, shaking his head with a scoff. right, you promised him you'd treat him for letting you crash in his place.

"right...what do you want?", you ask. "i want you to cook me something that you love to eat", he asks. "i'll buy you something how's that?", you bargain. "no can do baby. or do you want the whole world to know that you're dying to sleep with me", he asks with a raised brow making you narrow your eyes at him. "you're such an ass", you mumble, purposely nudging your elbow into him as you walk ahead.

you lock up and mingyu would drive you back to your place where you decide to cook your favorite pasta for him. it was simple, easy to make, and super yummy too. mingyu would hang around in the kitchen as you started cooking, and maybe give you some unsolicited decor advice, making you roll your eyes. and you notice how mingyu's hands would just automatically start helping you gather ingredients or things - i guess that’s what happens when you cook for a living. you'd have to smack his hands off, telling him you'd manage to make him pout.

he'll lean back on the other end of the counter as you stand chopping some vegetables and doing some prep for the pasta. "so did your ex pay you a visit again?", mingyu asks, looking at you keenly. "that idiot did come in the morning again, and was asking where you were", you say. "what did you say?", "nothing, just that you had worked", you add. "but i don't think he'll come again, hopefully", you add.

"was he good in bed?", mingyu asks, like it's the most normal question in the world, catching you completely off guard. "excuse me? what kind of question is that?", you say, looking at him. "what, can't i know about your loser ex? i'm guessing he was pretty shit seeing as you've been dying to sleep with me", he adds with a smug smirk. as he pushes his glasses up. "what- firstly i am not dying to sleep with you and secondly i don't see why that actually matters to you", you say, getting annoyed. mingyu did an excellent job getting on your nerves.

"yeah so he was shit in bed", mingyu concludes when you avoid the question. "fuck you mingyu", you say, giving his a side eye. "oh, so you want me to? i'll gladly do it, just ask", he says nonchalantly. "like you're that good in bed either", you mumble to yourself but obviously mingyu heard you.

"is that a challenge baby? do you want me to show you", he asks with a raised brow. "whatever oh my god, just let me cook", you snap back at him, getting your focus back onto prepping for the pasta.

after a few seconds of silence, mingyu speaks up again. "baby if you need help, i'll be more than happy to. it feels awkward just standing here doing nothing", he asks again. "firstly, my name is -", you start, looking up to glance at mingyu. and maybe it was because you looked away for a second or because you were tired, your hand slipped and the knife sliced your finger. "OW", you yell, dropping the knife on the counter as you clutch your finger to your chest.

mingyu would be by your side in an instant. "what happened?", he asks and he gets his answer from the drops of blood on the countertop. "shit", he mutters. he can tell by the way your finger is bleeding that it's deep and bad cut. "where's your first aid kit", he asks urgently. "top shelf on the right", you mumble. he'll clear the countertop, pushing all the ingredients and chopping board to the side to make some space for you. you feel his hands on your waist as he gently hoists you up so you're now sitting on the countertop.

"here, let me see hm", he asks softly. you open your hands and hear him take in a sharp breath. it was pretty bad. you had cut not one, but two fingers and they were pretty deep slices, ouch. he'll wipe your finger with a wet cloth first. then he'll dab the disinfectant on, and you close your eyes because it burned like shit. "oww it hurts", you whine. "let me do it, i can manage mingyu", you huff but he won't let you. "don't - just let me help you".

he'll clean your other cuts and it just burns so bad you end up leaning your forehead on mingyu's shoulder, as he's standing in front of you. he'll gently bandage your fingers and make sure you were all okay. "done, you are okay baby?", he asks as you're still leaning your head against him. "hm", you manage to say. you lift your head up but you're still so close to mingyu, you gulp as you look at him. "sorry, i guess i was just tired", you tell softly. "you should have told me, we could have done this another time", he scolds. "i owed you though", you mumble, looking down. and i wanted to spend time with you.

"i'll be okay, it's no big deal", you add and you're hyper-aware of mingyu's hands resting on your thighs as he stares at you. "you're really stubborn you know", he adds making you scoff. "stubborn? me?? have you seen yourself, you're so damn cocky about everything", you counter. he won't say anything but he did love seeing you all feisty, he thought it was hot. "what can i say, i like being the best in everything i do", he counters, giving you a little smirk.

and you can't take it anymore. you couldn't take his stupid smile and how stupidly attracted you were to him. you couldn't take the tension anymore, so you just grabbed mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him. he would be caught off guard for a second but he'll smirk into the kiss, kissing you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss. you pull away.

"we shouldn't be doing this", you say breathlessly. "give me one good reason why we shouldn't", he responds as he captures your lips again, his other hand going to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. "fuck...because we're rivals and i'm supposed to hate you", you mumble between kisses. "let's just screw that and start over", he says as he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. but your mind is too fuzzy to care anymore. you look at him, his lips pink and plump from all the kissing. he starts to kiss your neck, making you gasp as your eyes flutter close. he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. "m-mingyu", you whisper. "hm tell me what you want baby", he groans softly, kissing up to your jawline as you grip his arm. "you're so annoying"softly, kissing up to your jawline. he moves his hand to remove his glasses when you stop him. "don't, i like how they look on you", you say, looking at him as you bite your lip. "oh really? how does it look on me?", he asks, fully knowing the answer but he just wanted to hear it from you. "makes you look so hot", you mumble against his lips, kissing him. he kisses you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss.

you don't know how you made it to your bed, as mingyu hovers over you, his shirt thrown somewhere to the side. "i'll fuck you so good that the only name you'll remember is mine", he taunts, whispering in your ear before kissing you again. his cheeks flushed and his hair falling over his face as he looks down at you. with such passion making you dizzy.

you stir awake and open your eyes to see mingyu soundly sleeping next to you. his arm is lazily around your waist, his hair falling over his hair in a cute mess. the events of last night are still clear in your head. what was going to happen now? what were the two of you?

you gently move, trying not to wake up mingyu, but he stirs slowly beside you, his arm tightening against your waist as he pulls you closer. "five more minutes", he mumbles and you can't really do anything to get out of his killer grip, so you lay there in his arms, admiring his pretty face.

"your five minutes are up", you say, pushing against his chest to get out of his hold, making mingyu open his eyes. "you're so mean", he mumbles, letting you get out of his grasp.

your clothes are scattered on the floor from the night before and you reach out for the closest thing near you - mingyu's shirt. you can definitely see him check you out as you are draped in his shirt as he shows his pretty grin to you. mingyu makes breakfast and soon you both part ways, having to attend to the restaurant.

that night, you crash in bed and you can't stop thinking about what happened between you both. what was going to happen? how could you possibly stay friends with him? would it be weird? and mostly, you were scared. you still didn't want to admit how you felt about him. and after last night's events, you were even more confused and unsure. so you do the worst thing anyone can do - try to avoid mingyu and pretend like it didn't happen.

it's easy at first because you're both busy with your work. but mingyu would leave you occasional texts to which you would just reply with short sentences, making up excuses that you were busy or tired if he asked if you were free for dinner or coffee. but then mingyu obviously picks up on your behavior and maybe starts to feel bad. and he decides to finally do something about it.

you wrap up for the night and are heading out the door when you bump into someone since you were looking at your phone as you walked. "ouch-oh", you let out upon seeing whom you had bumped into - mingyu.

"hi", you say, gaining your balance as you step back. "hi" he says as he looks at you. "what's up?", you ask. "i'm here to get my second treat from you", he adds and when you give him a confused look he elaborates. "did someone forget they owe me two meals?", he prompts with a raised eyebrow. this annoying asshole.

"thought you forgot about", you mumble under your breath. "how could i, what do you take me for hm", he teases making you glare at him. since you'd been avoiding him, you forgot how cocky and annoying he was, even though you hated to admit how much it turned you on and how much you found him insanely attractive.

"what do you want? i'll buy you dinner", you tell. "nope, you've to make me something", he tells, not budging. "fine i'll make you ramen", you tell. he raises his eyebrows. "are you flirting with me right now?", he asks. you simply push past him and walk ahead mumbling under your breath as he laughs and follows behind you.

you both are in your apartment now. taking a pot, you fill it with water and wait for it to boil as mingyu leans back against the counter. you're about to chop some green onions when mingyu steps in. "let me hm, don't want you cutting yourself again", he says as he takes the knife from you, chopping them neatly. you just hoped he didn't bring up what happened last time now because you would die on the spot if he did that.

"so...can i ask you why you've been avoiding me?", he finally asks. your leaning against the other side of the counter now as mingyu turns back to look at you. great, here we go.

"what do you mean, i haven't been avoiding you", you lie, trying to sound convincing but mingyu can see right through you. "don't lie baby, it's very obvious", he says crossing his arms across his chest, which only emphasized his biceps even more.

"is it because of what happened between us last time?", he asks as he looks at you. the way he looks at you and waits tells you that he did genuinely have feelings for you. you liked him too, he definitely made your heart jump. but you both were supposed to be rivals and you're feelings were complicated, and you didn't know how to say it.

"i'm not going to lie, i did feel bad. i thought there was a spark between us you know", he says. the water is boiling now but mingyu didn't move and neither did you.

"yeah, it was fine. just... let's just treat it like a one-night stand and move on okay. forget about it", you tell, dismissing the topic and your feelings completely, and you didn't miss the flash of hurt that reflected in mingyu's eyes.

you come forward to put the ramen in the water along with the flavoring packets as you try to ignore mingyu's presence next to you. "wow", he finally says. "so that's all it was to you? it didn't mean anything? because from what i remember i clearly felt something and so did you", he adds, not letting go of the topic.

"it's just something that happened-" "did you want it", he asks cutting you off. the ramen is still boiling but neither of you pays attention to it anymore. "i mean yeah but that doesn't need to define our relationship", you tell. "what are we now?", you ask.

"i don't know but i thought it could be the start of something. but seeing how you just thought about it as a one-night stand and have been ignoring me ever since tells me all i need to know", he tells as he runs a hand through his hair. you finally turn back your attention to the ramen, which is clearly been boiling for too long. turning off the stove, you serve some for yourself and mingyu and push the bowl toward him.

neither of you talk as you both eat, mingyu inhaling the noodles. you can tell he's pissed off but he still helps you clean up before leaves, only telling you thanks for the ramen as he steps out the door of your apartment.

that week mingyu doesn't text you or call. it was selfish of you to think that he would. but still, you unconsciously found yourself waiting for his text or his goofy face to pop by your restaurant. and that's when you realized you missed him. you really did like him alot. that night after a long day and a long week, you find yourself drinking alone in the corner of a cute restaurant, just drowning in your sorrows. you were pretty tipsy at this point and some random person decided to sit next to you, annoying you and was trying to make small talk with you.

"can you leave, please? i don't think i know you", you tell but they don't seem to listen. that's when you hear a familiar voice. "i think you need to go", the voice says and you look up. "who are you?" "they're my partner", you hear the voice say as the person gets up, walking off as the person glares at him.

the mystery person who just saved you takes a seat opposite you and you stare at him trying to figure out where you've seen him before. "you look like someone i know", you tell, taking another sip of your drink, only to find the glass empty as you ask for another drink. "yeah you look like this guy mingyu", you tell and he chuckles because it was, in fact, mingyu who was sitting in front of you.

after taking a few sips of your refreshed drink, you launch into an explanation about mingyu...to mingyu because you're too drunk to realize mingyu is in front of you and you just needed to get things off your chest.

"who's mingyu?", he asks. "this guy who's super annoying but also so attractive. and i just fucked up big time with him. we ended up sleeping together but then i just told him to forget about it basically. and now i'm just going to die single", you tell. mingyu smiles softly at that. " but how do you feel about him?", he asks, curious to know what you really felt and thought about him.

"i do like him, even though he's too cocky for his own good and annoying, he's pretty cool. i can't seem to think straight when i'm around him. i was just scared to admit my feelings after and screwed up, causing a mess. but i really really do like him", you tell, as you down your drink. mingyu stops your hand when you ask for another drink. "i think you've had enough for tonight baby, let's get you home", he says and soon he's driving you back home while you're passed out asleep in the passenger seat of his car.

you stir awake in bed, your head heavy from last night's drinking. you open your eyes and look around. since when did you have yellow walls? you look around and get up, realizing this isn't your room, but why does it seem vaguely familiar? just then a head peeps into the room - mingyu.

what the hell? he sees you awake and gives you that toothy, stupid, pretty smile. "you're awake i see", he tells, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "you should just move into my place hm i can see that you love it so much", he adds, being sarcastic and teasing you. "why am i here?", you ask, confused, not being able to recall how or why you even ended up in mingyu's house. you're just hoping you didn't do anything stupid last night.

"bad memory again baby?", he prompts and you give him a small glare.

"shit", you mumble under your breath as you wrack your brain and try to recall last nights events. "sorry i keep crashing at your place", you add, feeling guilty. "i made breakfast, eat before it get's cold", he says before retreating back to the dining hall. you follow him after a minute and you're about to just walk away.

"it's fine, i'll eat later", you say but mingyu just puts the plate in front of you, guiding you to a seat and pushing you down to sit. "you're really going to refuse my world famous french toast?", he asks.

you take a bite and nod because it was actually very yum. "how'd i end up here anyway?", you ask, looking at mingyu. "you texted me", he says and you wait for him to explain more. "or like left me a few really misspelled drunk texts which i had to put together to figure out where you were". then you remember. right, that's what i was doing, trying to forget about mingyu, yet here you were at his house.

"and then you passed out in my car when i was driving you home and you wouldn't wake up so i had to take you back to my place", he explains between bites of his toast. you cringe at the memory. "sorry", you mumble out.

later that week you still can't stop thinking about mingyu and even more so. he was just so sweet and charming. and you missed him. you're laying down in bed and it's late. you're staring at the ceiling and thinking about mingyu and your feelings. what was i so scared off? was i going to push away somehow just because i was unsure and scared, and maybe lose out on something because of that? and then regret it. you didn't want to. you'd done that plenty of times before and knew how it ended. so you get up. you were not going to make the same mistake with mingyu.

you threw on a hoodie and shoes and took the bus, making your way to mingyu's house. you run from the bus stop to his place, not caring if people gave you weird looks. you were just hoping that it wasn't too late and that mingyu would still listen and maybe give you a chance.

you run up the stairs not caring to wait for the elevator and ring his doorbell, leaning your hand against his door as you catch your breath. the door opens and you lose your balance, falling right into mingyu's arm. he catches you. "woah woah", he says seeing you. "y/n?", he asks, seeing you breathless. "are you okay? did something happen?", he asks again. you step inside, the door closing behind you.

"let me get you some water and-", "i like you too okay", you tell, catching him off guard and he just stares at you. "i like you a lot mingyu. i was just scared of my feelings and pushed you away and i was an idiot but now i realized now. i'm sorry about the other day, i shouldn't have said that but now i can see it, that i really like you", you continue in one breath as you look at mingyu.

mingyu falters, trying to hide the smile that so desperately wants to burst across his face. "damn, i didn't think you'd be so upfront about it", he tells as he smiles at you finally. "so you finally decided that you like me huh", he teases, taking a stride ahead as you take a step back until you're backed up against the door. mingyu stands in front of you, his arms on both sides of your body. he leans in ever so slightly. "y-yeah", you reply softly as you look at his lips.

mingyu smiles and you can't take it anymore. you lean forward and kiss him, melting right into his arms as his hands move to your waist, pulling you against him. god you had missed this. his lips were soft and they moved against yours making you dizzy. "i missed you", you whisper against his lips and he lets out a soft grunt. "me too baby but i knew you'd come around", he says. he sees your furrowed brows and realizes you didn't remember the drunk confession you had made to him.

"you don't remember? that night you called me over and like told me everything and confessed when you were drunk. i was just waiting for you to tell me when you were sober", he tells, kissing your jaw. "i really need to cut down on alcohol", you mutter and he chuckles. you find his lips again and kiss him. "you're really darn stubborn you know", mingyu tells you once he breaks away making you whack his arm.

he grins as he chases after your lips again, guiding you to the couch, pulling you on top of him, never once breaking away, making you breathless once again. "you now owe me another meal", he mumbles between kisses. "hm", you mumble, pecking his nose.

"be my boyfriend?", you ask, looking at him and he grins at that word. "whatever you want baby, i'm all yours", he tells as he kisses you again and you get lost in the feeling of his kisses and how his lips feel on yours.

it's been about three months since you and mingyu have been dating after you finally came to your senses and finally acknowledged your feelings about him. and honestly you were so happy. mingyu was sweet, funny, honest, passionate, and still annoyingly attractive but who were you to complain because you had him all to yourself now.

you're at mingyu's place because you're finally keeping your end of the deal and cooking another meal for him because you still owed mingyu one last meal, and he wasn't going to let you forget about it. after months of nagging and forgetting, remembering and nagging again, here you are, cooking him a meal.

"i really didn't think you'd make me cook for you again after i admitted how i felt like that's just petty", you tell. "we made a deal hm and it still has to be fulfilled", he counters. "i was glad you forgot about it...until now", you mumble and he chuckles.

you had prepared pork tonkatsu with some sides and you set everything on the table. "looks good", he says. "of course, this is like my specialty", you tell proudly with a smile. you watch as mingyu takes a bite and chews. "it's...better than i expected", he admits and you smile. "see, everyone loves it"

oh, and mingyu still loves to tease you about how you were 'playing hard to get' on purpose. "you know i still don't get why you hated me", he asks after dinner, where you both are sitting on the couch, having some cake mingyu bought.

"i didn't hate you", you defend. "liar, you totally hated me like i swear i saw lasers shooting from your eye the first time we met", he counters and you roll your eyes at his exaggeration.

"i just...i don't know, i thought you were so full of yourself and too cocky...and too good looking", you tell mumbling the last part. "hm what was that baby?", he prods, as he puts his plate down. "nothing", you tell. "speak up baby", "that you were too good looking oh my god", you tell, annoyed.

''you left out the most important part". "what?", you ask, confused. "that you were dying to sleep with me", he completes, with a stupid smirk.

"mingyu!", you exclaim, whacking his arm as he laughs. "i was not okay", you tell, putting down your plate too. "i just-" "was so desperate for me", he says, finishing the sentence for you, making you glare at him as he leans closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"you're so annoying", you huff. "only for you", he replies, as he leans in to kiss you and you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

"you need to cook me something next time", you mumble as you pull away. "hm whatever you want", he says as he chases after your lips again, making you melt in his embrace.

taglist: @joshuaahong @naaaaafla

i'd love to know what you thought :) reblogs appreciated <3

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joelmillers-whore · 11 months

Text

Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right?

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin.

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make.

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked.

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly.

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time.

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked.

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were.

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you.

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter.

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating.

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare.

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength.

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”.

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”.

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”.

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame.

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way.

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class.

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance.

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit.

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic.

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep.

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable.

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head.

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor.

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer.

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone.

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song.

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you.

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you.

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face.

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk.

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand.

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”.

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students.

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot.

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight.

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with.

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

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darlingofvalyria · 1 year

Text

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

"Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

"Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—" You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

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xomakara · 2 months

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Crossing Boundaries

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You are older than Wooyoung by two years and is best friends with his older brother, so you always saw Wooyoung as a younger brother. But Wooyoung wants to be so much more than a younger brother. PAIRING | Wooyoung x Reader GENRE/CONTENT | non-idol!Wooyoung, older!Reader, non-idol au, romance, fluff, smut, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex WARNINGS | A slightly older reader and younger man?? RATING | NSFW, explicit, mature, 18+ LENGTH | 8,033 words TAGLIST | — NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | The noona in me is happy and glad to write this. Maybe the filthiest I ever wrote lol. Couldn’t exactly push to 10k but 8k words is still good enough lol

"What's the occasion?" Wooyoung looks at you sprawled out on his bed.

"No occasion. Just needed someone to talk to." You replied after making yourself comfortable. "Your brother is goofing off who knows where and you're the only person that's here in Seoul. I have nothing better to do."

"Did you get dumped?" Wooyoung asked, watching your face. "Again?"

"I dumped him this time!" You say, deciding to let some of the frustration out. "My god he really has no fucking clue what he wants. He likes me, but thinks I'm not good enough for him? How many times do I have to hear that idiot saying those things before it finally sinks into his head that it's wrong?! I deserve someone that can give me the proper love and care! Not someone that doesn't even know how to express his feelings properly or treat me right!"

Wooyoung could be that man. Be the man that gives you proper love and care.

But he knows that you don't think of him in that way. You only see him as a little brother since you're his older brother's best friend. He didn't even care that you were older than him by two years. To him, age was just a number. So to him, there wasn't any reason why he shouldn't have fallen in love with you. You're the girl he wanted most when he was young, but never got because he was too scared to make a move on you.

"The guy is an idiot if he can't see how perfect you are for him." Wooyoung says, leaning back against his desk chair.

"Ugh, maybe I should stop dating people." You sigh. "Maybe I should stick to just reading books from now on. No dating needed at all. Reading about romance in a book is much easier and much less painful."

"Come on, noona. There are other men that would gladly date you." Wooyoung says.

"Are your roommates single?" You turned your head to look at him.

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow at you. “Thought you just said that you’re going to stop dating.”

"I need to find a really handsome guy." You said. “Just so I can get back at that stupid bastard and rub it in his face.”

"Sorry Y/N-noona," Wooyoung shrugged. "But both Hongjoong-hyung and Jongho have girlfriends. And I'm pretty sure my other friends are taken too."

"Fuck. Why do all the pretty men have to be taken?" You complained, burying your face into Wooyoung's pillow. "Even your brother isn't single."

"Like you'd ever date your best friend." Wooyoung snorted, earning himself a glare from you.

"I might have thought about it before." You admitted, returning a snort of your own. "You know there was a time where every girl wanted your brother back in high school."

"Even you?" He laughed, pinching your cheeks. "So why didn't you go after him then?"

"Because your brother only saw me as his best friend." You sighed. "It took him a long time before he realized that I was actually attracted to him. And then he rejected me. And now we laugh about it whenever we meet up together."

"And there starts your origin story of getting heartbroken and dumped every time. Every story will start with Y/N going out with a cute guy, crushing on them, and being rejected." Wooyoung mused.

"Mhm." You agreed. "One day though. One day, everything will work out for me."

"Keep dreaming." Wooyoung teased.

"Fine, fine. It won't happen soon though. Maybe I'll die alone and unfulfilled." You groaned. "You're such a buzzkill, Wooyoung."

"But the world would be dull without me." Wooyoung replied with a laugh.

You sat up in his bed, running a hand through your hair. "Let's go out and drink. I want to forget about all this shit."

"Hm?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow.

"Drink with me." You said, standing up and taking a step towards him.

"Alright, alright." Wooyoung relented. "Where do you want to go?"

"A bar nearby." You answered, feeling more excited than usual. "Something new, I've been to the same places over and over again."

"Alright." Wooyoung nods. "But don't be picking up random guys there! I'm not gonna deal with some drunk douchebag that's trying to get in your pants. If they try something I swear to god I'll-"

"Ohhh, is my Wooyoungie jealous already?" You asked with a chuckle. "Don't worry, this noona here won't be picking up any guys. Just come out with me and drink with me. You can even invite your roommates or friends. I don't care as long as I have a few drinks in me."

"Noona, you sure?" He eyed you suspiciously. "You're not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?"

"I'm positive." You assured him. "After breaking up with that idiot, I don't even want to deal with picking up guys anymore. That's the least of my worries. Now please come drink with me. Please?"

"Alright." Wooyoung said slowly. "I guess I'll go along with you this one time."

"Thank you!" You jumped up and down excitedly. "That's all I wanted to hear! You're the best Wooyoungie."

"Yeah, yeah." Wooyoung waved you away. "Let's go get drunk."

Wooyoung watched as you laughed at something Yunho was saying to you and he couldn't help but stare at the way your lips moved, forming each word and speaking with such confidence. He had seen you laughing before but never like this. Your eyes shone bright and it seemed like the whole room lit up when you did. Seeing you smile genuinely made him happy and he wished he could have frozen that moment right there.

"You like her." San suddenly stated, shocking him out of his daze.

"What?" Wooyoung asked, looking up at the person beside him.

"Y/N-noona." San repeated, narrowing his eyes. "The way you looked at her the last time we went out drinking, I knew it. You like her. A lot."

"You're delusional." Wooyoung shook his head. "She's my older brother's best friend. She's completely off limits."

"Off limits or not, you still like her." San said. "It's okay, you can admit it."

"There's nothing to admit." Wooyoung muttered, looking back at you and smiling slightly. "Nothing to tell anyone."

"Let me guess...She see's you as a little brother, huh? Is that it?" San gave him a disbelieving look.

"Stop it." Wooyoung sighed. "San, you're annoying me."

"Okay, okay." San said with a laugh. "I'll stop talking about your precious noona."

"Great." Wooyoung rolled his eyes before gesturing to you and Yunho. "Now that we have that settled, I think it's time for me to break up whatever is going on over there."

Your laughter was angelic to his ears. The sound calmed him and the sight of your genuine happiness warmed his heart. All he wanted to do was stay there forever, basking in the bliss that is your smile. How lucky his brother was to have you as a friend. What a treasure it was to have you around.

He had never felt this way about another woman. When he first met you back in elementary school, he didn't pay attention to you because you were a tomboy. But when you entered middle school and started to become more feminine, he started noticing you more and found himself admiring the confidence you carried in yourself. Whenever he hung out with you, he always felt relaxed and refreshed. He never had trouble talking to you and he loved hearing your stories. They were entertaining and very interesting.

In all honesty, he didn't think he'd fall in love with you, but once he realized he had feelings for you, it became impossible to deny it.

Ever since he realized his feelings for you, he's tried so hard to keep himself at a distance, because he didn't want to scare you away with his crush. He didn't want to force you to like him, so he continued acting normal around you, not giving you the chance to realize that he liked you. He figured that if you never knew how he felt about you, it would just give him an excuse to keep your friendship alive. To be close to you. To see your smile and listen to your voice. He enjoyed spending time with you. He liked talking to you.

When he had a chance to get closer to you, he always decided against it, thinking it was a bad idea. After all, you were his older brother's friend.

"Noona, you doing good?" Wooyoung asked you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

"Just a little buzzed, that's all." You managed to say without slurring your words. "Yunho and Mingi has been keeping an eye on me."

"Oh yeah?" Wooyoung grinned. "You're not picking them up, are you?"

"Nooooo~" You laughed, shooing him away playfully. "I said that I wasn't going to pick up guys and I mean it!"

"You're drunk aren't you? How many drinks have you had, noona?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Seven." You announced proudly. "Three beers and four shots."

"You really need to slow down." Wooyoung frowned, shaking his head.

"How about you let me buy you a beer, so you can drink with me?" You suggested.

"I refuse." Wooyoung refused to budge.

"How about you buy me a few drinks?" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"No." Wooyoung shook his head firmly.

"How about you take me home?" You suggested, batting your eyelashes at him.

Wooyoung had to take deep breaths to calm himself down at that statement. Of course he wanted to take you home. He wanted to take you home, kiss you senseless, bend you over the table, fuck you - nonono, he couldn't think like that! Not with you as his older brother's friend! It was wrong to have these thoughts. It was wrong to want this. This can never happen.

"Alright, alright." Wooyoung said, reaching for his wallet and pulling out money. "I’ll buy you some more drinks."

“Yay!” You happily clapped your hands, accepting the money from him and quickly getting up. You grabbed Wooyoung's hand, tugging him along behind you. "Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Wooyoung let you drag him towards the bar where a few of his friends were hanging out. You were practically pulling him by his arm. Luckily, none of them minded. In fact, everyone was amused by the situation. Some were outright staring at you and chuckling. You dragged Wooyoung to the counter, pointing at bottles and making drunken demands while grabbing the bartender's attention. After a few minutes of confusion and waiting, you finally got your drinks. You held the bottle in your hands, lifting it to your mouth. You finished the whole thing before putting the bottle back on the counter.

"Gimme another one." You demanded, putting your arm around Wooyoung's waist.

"Noona." Wooyoung grumbled, placing his hands on your shoulder. “I’m taking you home. You’re drunk.”

“Nooo~~~” You whined, pouting. “Come onnnn.”

Wooyoung sighed and reluctantly handed the bartender more money. “Just one more, please.” He ordered.

As soon as he walked back to you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You whispered, leaning into him.

“Shit…” Wooyoung breathed under his breath. He needed to end this now before things got out of control. He couldn't handle it, the way your face lit up, the way you leaned into him, the sweet smell of alcohol on your skin, your breath becoming heavy as you lean into him, the way your body presses against him…

He should've listened to his gut and told you to go home. Right now, his brain was screaming at him to move away from you and put space between the two of you, but his feet weren't listening to him. His body kept moving forward, like a magnet towards yours.

"Umm...yeah." He mumbled awkwardly. “We better get you home.”

"But..." You started.

"Noona." Wooyoung shook his head. "It's late and I'm not gonna let you drive home. Besides, I'm pretty sure your parents or even your sister won't be happy to find out that you came here alone and drank."

"You're probably right." You nodded before pouting. It took Wooyoung all his strength to not throw you over his shoulder. "You're still a buzzkiller."

“I know, I know. Let’s get you home.” Wooyoung agreed.

After saying your goodbyes to the rest of the group, Wooyoung guided you to the car. On the way to your house, you were almost asleep in the passenger seat. Wooyoung had to carry you to the door and place you inside the house. He carried you to your bedroom and placed you gently on the bed. You instantly fell asleep. He turned off the lights and left you sleeping peacefully.

After sending a quick message to your sister to let her know that you were home, Wooyoung left your house to go home. He was still unsettled and distracted by the thought of being near you. He hadn't gotten the chance to ask you if you had enjoyed the night. If you liked him. Maybe you were just playing along with him to tease him. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

You woke up with the worst hangover in history. You couldn't even remember what happened yesterday. Everything seemed blurry and surreal. Your head hurt, you felt nauseous and you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. But you also wanted to know why you were in your bed. You groaned and lifted your head up, attempting to sit up, only to hit your head back on the pillow.

"Son of a bitch." You swore angrily. "Fuck…"

Your phone rang and you answered it. "You have five minutes to tell me what the fuck you want or I'm hanging up."

You heard Wooyoung laugh on the other end. "Bad hangover, noona?"

"What did I do last night?" You groaned, wincing in pain.

"You were having fun, I guess." Wooyoung shrugged. "You drank too much, that's for sure."

"Did I pass out somewhere?" You asked curiously.

"No but you nearly fell asleep in my car." Wooyoung said. "I brought you home though."

"Thanks for saving my ass." You chuckled.

"Don't mention it." Wooyoung replied. "I'd do anything for you, noona."

"Anything?" You asked with a teasing tone.

"Oh no. What's going on in that head of yours?" Wooyoung joked.

"Coffeeeeee pleaseeee." You whined into the phone. "Now."

"Yeah, okay. Ten minutes. Go shower or something while you wait." Wooyoung chuckled.

After hanging up, you laid back down on your bed and closed your eyes. You felt like shit and Wooyoung was right, you did drink too much. You should've stopped after three beers, but you wanted to keep drinking. And when someone buys you more alcohol, it becomes really easy to continue drinking, even though you feel like shit.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognized yourself. Your hair was messed up, there were smudges of mascara and eyeliner around your eyes, your lips were chapped and there was dried saliva stuck on your teeth. You look disgusting and definitely not presentable. As much as you hated to admit it, you needed a shower. Badly.

You went to the bathroom and hopped into the shower. The hot water helped ease some of your headache, but didn't make the hungover feeling any better. You took your time washing your hair, shampooing and conditioning it. You massaged your scalp, closing your eyes and letting out a small moan of pleasure as the warm water poured onto your skin.

After showering, you threw on some clean sweats and a t-shirt. Then you made your way downstairs. You found Wooyoung talking to Aimee, your younger sister, in the kitchen. They were laughing at something.

"Where's my coffee, Wooyoungie?" You called out, walking towards them.

"Here, you drunk." Wooyoung slid the coffee cup to you as you settled yourself on the stool. "Do you feel any better?"

"I feel like shit." You mumbled, resting your head on the countertop.

"Awhh." Wooyoung pouted, trying to hide his smile.

"Who told you to drink so much, eonni?" Your younger sister shook her head. "Let me guess. Jaehyun broke up with you?"

"I broke up with him." You retorted.

"And you needed a big, stiff drink." Aimee smirked.

"You have no idea how true that is." You laughed.

"Hey, good riddance. That relationship was doomed to fail anyway." Aimee stated. "While I'm happy that you dumped him, I'm a bit sad because Jaehyun was such a gorgeous man."

"Hey, I'm a gorgeous man!" Wooyoung pointed at himself.

Aimee raised her eyebrows. "Keep telling yourself that, Wooyoung."

"I am gorgeous." Wooyoung proclaimed.

"Whatever, loser." Aimee rolled her eyes.

You couldn't help but think that Wooyoung and your sister looked cute together. They were the same age and they always seemed to get along well whenever they spent time together. It wasn't surprising to see that they both found each other attractive, despite their differences in appearance. Their personality and sense of humor made up for it.

A part of you wanted someone as caring and funny as Wooyoung in your life, but then again, your luck in men wasn't great and you never found anyone who could treat you right. It didn't stop you from dreaming though. One day, you promised yourself, you would meet someone and he would change your mind about love and relationships. You wouldn't settle anymore, you would wait for the right guy to come along.

"Well, I hope you feel better." Wooyoung spoke up, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

"Nothing much. Probably go hang out with your brother or something. But I'm kind of tired and want to go back to sleep." You admitted, rubbing your temples.

"Why don't you just stay in today?" Aimee suggested. "I have to head to the office today anyway so I'll pick up dinner after I get off."

"Are you sure?" You asked, tilting your head.

"Yeah, it's fine." Aimee smiled. "Plus, I'd rather have a girls night with my older sister."

"I'm not included?" Wooyoung pouted.

Aimee rolled her eyes. "You're not a girl, you weirdo." She shook her head. "Besides, don't you have to go or something? Don't you have work?"

"Of course, what do you take me for?" Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head.

"Go away, you two." You moaned, head on the countertop. "Your yapping isn't helping my hangover."

Wooyoung grinned widely. "How dare you."

You reached for the coffee and gulped it down quickly. When you finished, you yawned. "I'm gonna crash now." You mumbled. "Thanks for everything, Wooyoungie. Now go to work, make that money."

"Anytime, noona." Wooyoung gave you a hug before leaving the room.

As soon as he was gone, Aimee pulled you into a tight hug. "Good job dumping Jaehyun." She whispered into your ear. "I'm so proud of you, sis."

"He deserves it." You sighed. "How can someone say they like you but then say you're not good enough for him? What kind of bullshit is that?"

"You're right." Aimee nodded. "You deserve someone better."

You hugged your sister back tightly. "Do you have any single friends? Or ex-boyfriends?" You asked hopefully.

"No eonni, I don't." Aimee laughed. "But you and I both know someone who's single."

"Who?" You inquired.

"Wooyoung, duhhhh." Aimee teased.

"Wooyoung?" You repeated, slightly taken aback. "Our Wooyoung? The Wooyoung who just left our house? The cutie-pie Wooyoung who's been our childhood friend for years? That Wooyoung?"

"That Wooyoung." Aimee giggled.

"Weird." You frowned. "I mean…of course he's single. But why? He's such a great catch."

"Maybe he's waiting for the perfect girl." Aimee suggested.

"I don't believe that for one second." You shook your head. "But if he is, I'm sure he'll meet her soon."

"Or maybe he already has." Aimee mused, a smile on her face. "Maybe he's already found that special one and she just doesn't know it yet."

"Mhmm." You hummed in agreement.

"Let's hope he doesn't have to wait too long." Your sister shook her head and grabbed her purse, making her way to the front door. "I'm heading to work now. I'll see you later, okay eonni?"

"Sure thing." You waved goodbye to her.

"Text me what you want for dinner." She instructed and you replied with a thumbs up.

You watched as your sister left the house, shutting the door behind her. You made your way to the couch and sunk into the cushions, curling up into a ball. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering if your day would get any better.

For reasons unknown, you woke up feeling incredibly horny. You had no idea why this would be happening. You haven't gotten laid in quite a few months and when you were still with Jaehyun, the both of you never even had sex. So it was extremely strange to wake up feeling this way.

Okay maybe it was that steamy movie you watched while you were indisposed on the couch. Maybe watching the couple undress and finally having sex made you yearn for some action of your own.

It had to be. Yeah.

You glanced at the clock. It was only noon and you had an entire day ahead of you. Grabbing your phone, you noticed the text messages from Wooyoung that you missed from a few hours ago. Instead of replying to him, you just decided to call him.

"Noona?" Wooyoung greeted, answering the phone immediately. "You good?"

"Yeah, I just woke up again." You huffed. "Are you done with work?"

"Yeah, I'm heading over to your place right now."

"Why?" You questioned, sitting upright. "It's only noon."

"Because you didn't answer Aimee's calls or texts so she got worried." Wooyoung explained. "I felt bad and offered to check on you. Are you okay, noona?"

"How far are you?"

"Pulling up right now. I'm hanging up."

In a few seconds, you heard the keypad to your front door opening and Wooyoung walked inside, taking his shoes off at the entrance. God, he looked so handsome standing there with his slightly disheveled hair, his crisp white shirt and jeans combo making him look casual but still appealing.

You wondered what his body looked like under his clothes and suddenly your imagination started to run wild. Nonono, you couldn't think like that. He was your best friend's younger brother! No matter how attracted you were to him, he wasn't someone you should be sleeping with. You liked him like a little brother and nothing else.

At least, you hoped so.

You pushed the unwanted thoughts out of your mind and smiled as Wooyoung made his way over to you. "Are you okay?" He asked, crouching beside you. "Hangover still bad?"

"Not too bad." You shook your head. "Did you bring me anything?"

"Yeah, here." Wooyoung handed you a bottle of water and some ibuprofen pills. "Take these. You'll feel better in no time."

"Thanks, Wooyoung." You sighed, leaning against him. "How was work?"

"It went pretty well. Hongjoong told me to go home. When your sister called me, he told me to just leave and take care of you."

You nodded. "Sounds like a good friend."

"Definitely." Wooyoung chuckled. "Do you need anything else?"

"I do but I'm not sure if it's something you could help me with." You muttered.

"What's up?" Wooyoung tilted his head. "You could tell me."

You shook your head, your cheeks slightly heating up. "Nononono, you don't need to-"

"Shhh…" Wooyoung placed a finger on your lips, silencing you instantly. "Look, I won't judge you, noona. Whatever you want, I'll try my best to give it to you."

"That's not-"

"Just relax and talk to me." Wooyoung said softly. "Please?"

You looked up at him and thought for a moment. What exactly did you want from him? Would asking him to pleasure you turn things between you and him sexual? Would he actually agree to do it? Did you really want to ask him?

All these questions raced through your mind and you bit your lip nervously. In the end, you decided to throw caution to the wind and see where this would lead you. If it ended badly, you could always cut ties with Wooyoung and go back to being just best friends.

Hopefully.

"Don't judge me okay? Please don't hate me." You breathed, looking away from Wooyoung and staring at the ground. "This might sound weird and I'm sorry if it does."

"I won't hate you, noona." Wooyoung assured you. "Whatever you need, just ask me."

The silence stretched on until you began to wonder if Wooyoung was going to speak. Then he raised an eyebrow at you and nodded once. He leaned forward slightly, giving you space to talk.

"Well...I woke up feeling...fuck, this is embarrassing to say." You huffed. "So here goes."

You took a deep breath and swallowed, telling yourself to just spit it out. You took another deep breath and braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I..." You paused for a few moments, trying to find the right words to say. "I've been horny all morning. And I've never wanted someone so badly in my life."

Wooyoung gaped at you for a moment before covering his mouth with his hand, stifling his laughter. You stared at him in shock, your face turning bright red. Why did you just admit that? Of course he was gonna laugh. Why did you just open up to him?

"See? I knew it sounded weird!" You buried your face in your hands in embarrassment. "And now I've embarrassed myself even more."

"Calm down, noona." Wooyoung chuckled. "There's no need to be embarrassed."

You felt his hands softly gripping your thigh, stroking your skin lightly. You looked down at him and bit your lower lip anxiously. You weren't sure if he meant what he was doing as comforting or sexual.

"Sorry, I just..." You huffed, shaking your head. "I shouldn't be saying this. I shouldn't be thinking about this."

"I know, but-"

"-I'm just saying." You cut him off. "I'm not usually like this. Like, ever. And I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."

"Tell me what you want, noona." Wooyoung gently coaxed, stroking your thighs once more. "Tell me, show me how to please you."

You bit your lip nervously, feeling Wooyoung's eyes fixated on yours. You stared back at him, unsure of what to say. At the same time, you also felt empowered knowing that you could trust him with this. After all, you were opening up to him because you wanted him to know what you wanted. Right?

Right?

You gulped. "Fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this. Wooyoung..."

"Hmm? Tell me, noona." Wooyoung spoke softly, his voice somehow calming you down. "Show me how you want me to pleasure you."

"Wooyoung..." You whimpered, wanting him to kiss you but also not wanting to risk kissing him. Kissing him would make things...complicated.

"...say it. Just say it." Wooyoung repeated, running his fingers up and down your thigh. "Say whatever you want. Don't be afraid. Say it out loud."

You bit your lower lip and furrowed your brows. Fuck it all. You were just gonna go for it. You were just gonna fuck around with Wooyoung and see where this would take you. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

You grabbed his hand and placed it under your sweatpants, letting him fondle your already moist pussy through your underwear. "Fuck, I need you to finger me, eat me out. Touch me, make me come."

"Let's get rid of your sweatpants first." He let out a small chuckle. "Let's do this properly."

You let out a small moan as you felt him tug on your sweatpants, pushing them down below your hips. Your panties came next and after that, you were completely naked from the waist down. On his knees, he grabbed your hips and pulled you to sit on the edge of the couch cushions, positioning himself directly in front of you.

"Oh my god, Wooyoung..." You gasped, feeling his lips trailing small kisses up your thighs. You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his hair, encouraging him to continue.

"Tell me, noona." He asked softly, planting small kisses on your inner thighs. "What do you want?"

By no means was Wooyoung inexperienced when it came to sex. He'd gone out with quite a few women, which gave him plenty of experience. But the fact that he wanted you to tell him what to do made you feel empowered. Not only was he giving you what you wanted, he was listening to you as well. And you wanted him to know that you enjoyed having him do those things to you.

Your breathing quickened as Wooyoung continued to explore your body, kissing and licking along the sides of your thighs, brushing your folds with his tongue. You moaned as he trailed kisses along your inner thigh and began teasing your clit with his tongue. He was fucking amazing at it, using his tongue to flick the sensitive nub. With every pass, your moans grew louder and you gripped his hair tighter, encouraging him to do even more.

"Fuck..." You whispered hoarsely. "Please don't stop, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung replied with a smile. "Keep talking, noona. I want to hear what you're saying. Want to know if you're feeling good."

He continued to lick and suck on your clit while simultaneously teasing your hole with his tongue, slowly drawing your arousal to its peak. You kept your hands around his head, tugging at his hair and moaning loudly as he kept pleasuring you. His fingers ran through your wetness and brought them back to his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

Fuck, you wanted his fingers in your mouth. Wanted to lick them, suck them dry.

As if reading your mind, he lifted his fingers to your lips. "Noona, suck my fingers." He ordered.

Reluctantly, you parted your lips and closed your teeth around his digits. You sucked hard, pulling at his fingers with your mouth. He moaned in delight and tightened his grip on your hips, guiding his fingers back to your pussy.

You wiggled beneath him, letting him push one finger inside of you. The sensation of his digits stretching your insides almost made you cry out. He then inserted a second finger, adding a third one later on. His mouth never left your pussy, though, continuing to lick you mercilessly as he slid his fingers in and out of you. Every thrust was like fire coursing through your body. It was too much and you quickly began panting heavily. You could barely think straight anymore, everything but him, his touch, his hot breath on your pussy.

His tongue was magic and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. "Oh shit...Wooyoung, oh my god."

"Are you close, noona?" He asked you in between licks.

You whimpered, unable to form any words. All you wanted was to scream, yell out, tell him to hurry the fuck up and make you come. "Oh god...I...I can't...stop...oh god..."

Wooyoung increased his pace, sucking on your clit and rubbing his fingers against your walls. You couldn't help it. Soon enough, your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your entire body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body tensed as your juices coated Wooyoung's fingers and his lips. And then you collapsed back onto the couch, gasping for air. You could feel your body shaking from your orgasm and Wooyoung grinned proudly at you.

When your heartbeat returned to normal, you sat up and patted Wooyoung on the cheek. "Wow, Wooyoung. That was incredible."

"Did I do good, noona? Are you happy?" He smiled sweetly at you, patting his hand against your ass playfully.

"Mhm, I loved it." You replied, blushing. "Thank you for indulging me."

"I'll do anything you want, noona." Wooyoung assured you, wrapping his arms around you. "Whenever you want."

"That's good to know." You smiled, leaning into him. "So, wanna keep fooling around some more?"

"Is that what you want?" He asked you with a smirk. "To keep fooling around?"

"Hell yeah." You laughed. "Can we?"

"Anything for you, noona." He grinned.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of kissing. Eventually, you two had moved into the bedroom, the rest of your clothes strewn across the floor. Wooyoung's shirt and jeans were tossed to the side of the bed and you noticed that he was only wearing boxers. You stared at his abs, tracing your fingers along the line of his stomach muscles.

You kissed him deeply, knowing that kissing him was going to get complicated. But you didn't care. Who cares if things got complicated. You'll reach that hurdle eventually anyway. Right?

"My turn." You murmured against his lips. He sat on the edge of the bed as you dropped to your knees in front of him. "I wanna taste you, Wooyoung."

He moaned at your words, reaching down and running his hands through your hair. "You don't have to do this for me, noona..."

"But I want to. Please, Wooyoung?" You pleaded with him, licking your lips seductively. "Please let me taste you."

"You're not drunk, are you?" He teased, chuckling slightly.

You laughed as well, biting your bottom lip. "Nope, just trying to cure a hangover."

Wooyoung smirked. "Then taste me whenever you want, noona."

You wasted no time in sucking on his erection, wrapping your lips around him and sliding him deep into your throat. He groaned in pleasure, holding onto your hair tightly. You liked the rough feeling of his hands on your hair, like you belonged there, sucking him off.

With your free hand, you squeezed his balls gently, massaging them with your thumb. A moan escaped his lips as you slowly bobbed your head up and down, taking him deeper each time until his tip hit the back of your throat. You looked up at him and he let out another moan before grabbing onto your hair once again.

You hummed with satisfaction, knowing that he liked what you were doing to him. As you licked and sucked on his dick, you ran your fingers along his shaft, lightly playing with his sack and stroking his head. It wasn't long before he was pushing his hips up, forcing his cock further down your throat. This excited you and you held his cock tight, not wanting him to pull away.

"You're such a good girl." He praised you.

You giggled. "Good girls are rewarded."

Wooyoung chuckled. "Alright then, good girl. Be rewarded."

As soon as he said that, you felt his warm seed coat your throat. You gulped a little at the feeling of him coming down your throat and used your hands to massage his shaft and testicles, making sure to take every last drop of cum out of him. When he was finished, he collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. You crawled up next to him, placing soft kisses on his chest and shoulders.

You weren't satisfied yet. So you proceeded to start sucking on his nipples, causing him to moan in pleasure. "I want more, Wooyoung." You breathed.

"How much more?" He asked you teasingly. “You're so insatiable, aren't you?”

"You've got all day to please me." You responded slyly. "All night."

Wooyoung chuckled as you straddled him, grinding your wet pussy against his cock. "Hmm...Sounds tempting, noona."

"Will you satisfy me?" You asked him, watching as his eyes darkened with lust.

"Of course." He growled, pulling you towards him as he sat up. His hands wandered over your soft skin. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

His words made you shiver. You knew exactly what you wanted and now you were going to get it. And Wooyoung was going to give it to you. You could feel yourself growing moist at the thought of his big cock filling you.

"What would you like, noona?" He asked you seriously. "I'll do whatever you want."

"I want you inside me." You kissed him softly on the lips. "Give me your big cock."

"Yes, yes, baby." He groaned as you took his penis into your hands. "Put it in, noona."

You slowly slid him inside of you. "Fuuuck." You gasped. "That feels so good."

"Fuck yeah." Wooyoung moaned, staring into your eyes lovingly. "Feels good, right?"

"Mmhmm." You nodded, pressing your breasts against his chest as he thrust his hips upward, driving himself deeper into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind his back. The position felt amazing. You could easily grind your pussy against his dick as he pushed it in and out of you.

"It feels so good, noona." He moaned, resting his forehead against yours.

"Me too." You agreed, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Every inch feels so fucking good."

Wooyoung kissed you deeply, nibbling on your lower lip. "I'm glad, noona." He whispered, nipping on your earlobe. "God, you're beautiful. You're taking me in so well, noona. Feels so damn good."

Your body was starting to heat up again and you moaned when he bit down on your neck. "Ah! Ah!" You yelled out, closing your eyes and clenching around his shaft. "Oh, fuck."

"Tell me, noona." Wooyoung urged, licking your neck. "Say what you need."

"Ohhh, fuck." You cried out, digging your nails into his back. "Wooyoung...mmm..please..."

Wooyoung released your neck and slowly began thrusting his hips up, sliding his cock in and out of you. "Say it, noona." He moaned, lowering his head and suckling your breast. "Say what you want."

You pulled his hair roughly, moaning. "More, please, more..."

"You like this, don't you, noona?" He asked you, chuckling lightly. "Don't worry. I won't stop."

You shook your head, looking into his eyes. "No, please don't stop." You whined. "Just keep fucking me."

He thrust harder, sending shockwaves throughout your body. "I'll fuck you all day and all night, noona. Every single second. No matter when and where you want it, I'll give it to you." He promised you, rocking his hips faster and faster. "I want to feel your tight pussy around my cock. Tighten up around me, noona."

And you did just that. You tightened around his cock and moaned loudly, unable to contain your pleasure. "Oh god, fuck, Wooyoung...that's so good."

You both started moaning louder and louder as your orgasms hit you. And you didn't want it to end. Not now, not ever. And you swore that it wouldn't. You continued to rock your hips back and forth, wanting him to stay buried inside of you forever.

He slowed his thrusts only to position you onto your hands and knees. He grabbed hold of your hips, pushing them back against his waist as he rammed himself into you again.

"Holy shit." He exclaimed, panting heavily. "I can't believe how tight you are."

You whimpered as he gripped your hips tighter. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" He mumbled.

He ran a hand along your naked back, the other holding your hip. You closed your eyes and just enjoyed the sensation of being fucked, completely and utterly taken. Your body sagged against the mattress, pushing your ass back towards him and giving him even more access to your pussy. He couldn't get enough of you. You rocked your hips, thrusting back against him, meeting each of his hard thrusts with your own.

"Jesus Christ, noona." Wooyoung cursed under his breath. "This feels so good. So goddamn good."

"Do it, Wooyoung." You panted. "Fill me with your cum. Fill me with your cum."

He leaned forward and kissed and sucked on the back of your neck and shoulder as he thrust his hips up into you, emptying his entire load into your eager pussy. His entire body tensed as he came, the waves of his orgasm radiating through him. With every wave of his climax, you came closer to climaxing again and the feeling was mind-blowing. You'd never felt anything like it. You could feel his hot seed oozing out of your pussy and covering your walls. His cock stayed buried inside of you for a few moments longer before finally slipping out.

You collapsed on the bed, gasping for air as you tried to catch your breath. "Wooyoung...god, Wooyoung..."

He collapsed next to you, running his fingers through your hair. "Baby, you okay?" He asked you, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You nodded, grinning happily. "Didn't expect you to cum three times though."

"I didn't expect you to cum three times either." He smiled.

"Yeah, now I'm exhausted." You sighed.

"It's alright, baby. You can rest if you want." He assured you. "I've got you."

"Okay." You nodded, snuggling up close to him.

You quickly fell asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat.

The moonlight shone through the curtains and you groggily opened your eyes. For a brief moment, you thought you heard something but shook your head. No, there wasn't anyone else in the room. Only you and Wooyoung.

You yawned, looking down at Wooyoung who was lying beside you. A blanket covered both of your bodies and he snored peacefully against your chest.

You went and did it. You fucked your best friend's younger brother. Well, sort of. More like he fucked you but still.

But you didn't regret it. In fact, it was one of the best nights of your life. You didn't know why but something about it felt natural.

"Noona..." Wooyoung mumbled against your skin, interrupting your thoughts.

You glanced down at him, feeling his soft lips on your neck. He was facing away from you, sleeping soundly. Your heart fluttered as you brushed your fingertips across his back. Oh my god, you thought. You really love this man. You loved him way more than you should have.

Maybe you'd been in love with him this whole time and just now noticed it. Maybe he was attracted to you as well but chose not to admit it. Or maybe you're delusional. It was possible.

Whatever the case, you couldn't deny the strong connection you shared with Wooyoung. Whether you ended up dating each other or not, you knew you wouldn't regret tonight.

At least, not yet.

With a sigh, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. You looked at him again, feeling yourself growing warmer.

He was perfect. Asleep or awake, the boy was gorgeous.

"Wooyoung?"

"Hmm?" He sleepily moaned, shifting slightly in your embrace.

"Are you still sleeping?" You asked, worried. "Shouldn't you be heading home?"

"It's late." He mumbled, snuggling closer to your body and closing his eyes. "And I feel comfortable here. Just let me spend the night."

"What if my sister comes home?" You frowned. "Do you want her to catch us in bed together?"

"She won't. She told me earlier that she was going to her boyfriend's when I offered to take care of you." He chuckled lightly.

You ran your fingers through his hair. "And you didn't bother to tell me this?"

"If I did, you would have told me to go home. We wouldn't be having this conversation right now." He sighed, cupping your face. "Let's stay like this, okay? At least until morning."

"Fine." You huffed, wrapping your arms around him. "I'm not exactly complaining."

"Good." Wooyoung kissed your forehead before pressing his lips to yours gently.

"Wooyoung, what are we now? Because our relationship has definitely changed after today." You mused, tracing the curve of his jawline with your fingertip.

"We're more than just friends now." He said lightly, running his fingers down your arm. "There's nothing stopping us from dating now. You know this, right? We're both adults. What's stopping us?"

What was stopping you? Other than that tiny voice in the back of your head. You weren't ready to give up the friendship you shared with Wooyoung just yet. Dating him would complicate things way too much. You weren't ready to deal with a breakup or hurting him.

"Y/N," He called out and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip. That was the first time he called you by your name and not noona. "I want to be with you. I don't want to hide anything from you anymore. I want you to know everything about me. I want you to see me and not see just a kid that I used to be."

"Wooyoung..." Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. "How long have you felt this way?"

"Since forever." He sighed, moving to kiss your nose. "I've liked you for as long as I can remember. Always wanting to be near you, watch you, listen to you speak."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You pouted, lowering your head to look at him.

"Why should I?" He shrugged. "If you don't feel the same way, then I wouldn't want to pressure you into something you aren't comfortable doing."

"Wooyoung, I-"

"-want to date you, Y/N." He cut you off, grinning mischievously at you. "Not just for sex, although I want that too, but because I actually want to date you."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Huh?"

"I want to take you out. Spend time with you. Be with you. All the time. Not as just friends or you being my older brother's friend. I want to be with you. Love you." He lowered his voice, nibbling on your bottom lip. "Just you."

A surge of warmth flooded your body. "Really?" You asked quietly, smiling shyly at him. "You mean that?"

"Of course, baby.” He laughed lightly. "Who else do you think would say such stupid things to you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Some guy named Wooyoung." You quipped back.

"Ha ha, very funny." He groaned, cupping your cheek before capturing your lips in his.

"Wooyoung..." You whispered against his lips. "You know I love you, right?"

"Since when?" He whispered back, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your neck. "Noona, why haven't you said it to me sooner?"

"Because I wasn't sure if I loved you." You admitted, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze. "But now I am."

"Ahhh..." Wooyoung moaned softly. "I love you too, Y/N."

"Wait, I didn't hear you." You laughed, grabbing hold of his collar. "Say it again."

"Noona...I love you." He repeated himself, gazing at you with adoring eyes. "I love you."

You kissed him deeply, loving how responsive he was to your kisses. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, leaving trails of fire on your lips. Suddenly, you pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. "I love you too, Wooyoung."

"Fuck, Y/N..." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand. "My hyung is gonna kill me."

"Don't worry about him." You laughed. "He'll be happy that his best friend and his younger brother finally found happiness together."

"You really love me right?" He asked, his lips on your shoulder.

"More than you'll ever know." You replied softly, staring into his dark eyes. "I know I complain about my bad luck in men and that I just wanted someone to give me proper love and care. Guess he was right in front of me, all along."

"I'll make sure to treat you with love and care from now on." Wooyoung promised, pressing another kiss to your neck.

"Promise?" You giggled, biting his bottom lip.

"Absolutely." He smirked at you. "Y/N, you're the only woman I will ever want."

"Hmmm." You hummed, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Then let's just stay in bed all night...hmm?"

"Oh yeah, you're absolutely right." Wooyoung grinned, bringing you even closer to him. "We should stay in bed.”

#illusionnet #blossomnet #atzhouse #cromernet #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez fanfics #ateez stories #ateez smut #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut

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orleia--xe · 11 days

Note

HELLO HELLO—

May I request

Kenma / Semi / Kuroo helping reader with her period for the very first time

Kenma/ Iwaizumi's reaction upon finding a love letter in theur locker after practice from reader (the very first time that someone actually showed interest in them)

Take your time, there's really no rush 💥💥

But I could be your crush, like-! | ◈ K.K | I.H

| Summary: With the final bell for the day, he heads over to the lockers and atop his stuff, adorned with a letter...Hm..Unusual..Someone love letter in his lock? Are you sure it's right...?

| Genre: Fluff, school setting, requested by @avens0nly.

| Author's notes: This is mostly a stretch for me, requests are open for almost ANYTHING you want, read the rules though. This is pretty much a word vomit, but one that is pretty.

| Warnings: N/A. fangirls? pushing down the stairs (gently and very little. but don't do this irl to anyone). Some fanmade stuff and some personal headcanons, nothing too much. r/x l/x is your full name.

𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕞𝕒 𝕂𝕠𝕫𝕦𝕞𝕖

Quickly stretching his neck as he continued to be pulled by Kuroo as Kenma's fingers continued to work on his phone screen, pressing to defeat the boss to pass onto the next level.

As he continued to gently tap on his screen, as Kuroo kept talking with Yaku and pulled him to the lockers. Admitting, he'll open it within a few seconds, he busied his fingers again with the game on his phone.

Losing the first tie, as the loosing theme was played on the screen as Kenma glared at his phone, again starting it as he huffed and continued to angry tap on his screen to try an defeat the boss, right before s phone snatched out of his hand as Yaku sighed, Kuroo holding it above Kenma's reach,

"Ya! Hurry up, Kenma. We have practice." He told Kenma as Yaku patted Kenma's back, trying to get Kenma to soften his hard glare on Kuroo, telling him he'll get his phone within a second and ushered him to turn towards his locker.

Groaning, Kenma lazily fiddled with the lock to open the locker, and atop his messily put away uniform, stayed a perfectly tucked in....envelope.Very easily recognizable, a love letter. Kenma rolled his eyes, since his locker was right beside Kuroo's, he'd gotten one too many love letters by accidents which were meant for Kuroo.

So he picked it up, just slapping it in Kuroo's face who held it, grinning sheepishly as Kenma began changing into his practice uniform and jersey.. Jut as he pulled the res jersey down, Yaku held the letter back to him as Knema stared back at the two staring at him expectantly, "what?" he asked annoyed.

"It's not Kuroo's...It's for you." Yaku told him as Kenma, rolled his eyes, not believing the joke for a second as he looked at them with a face that definitely meant he did not believe them, "Seriously." Kuroo said, and that look on his face when he was being serious about something.

As Kenma gently plucked the letter form Yaku's hand and lookied at it, adorned with a pixelated kiss mark on top of it, which he thought was cute and a pixelated heart sticker and Kenma written with a cursive writing in golden, ochre yellow and black ink pens...a lot of effort was taken in to write this letter for him, huh? Kenma subtly smiled and Yaku noticed that, as he grinned at Kenma,

"Go away." Kenma suddenly looked up and told Yaku and Kuroo. As Kuroo demanded to stay, but Yaku thankfully pulled him away as Kuroo kept complaining. As Kenma looked down at it, opening the letter and pulling out the butterscotch smelling paper out, he liked it, it was one of his favourite flavour.

"Dear Kenma-san,

I write this letter in hopes of conveying my feelings for you. It might be overwhelming, so I apologize. I did not know what to say, but I agree that I adore you and your smile and your eyes and everything.

I see the efforts you put in to be with your friends when you want to, despite being an introvert. I see you play games on the bleachers right before volleyball practice. I wanted to say; I like you, a lot.

I understand if you don't, but I wanted to get it off my chest and so I thank you for holding my feelings for the time while,

Love, R.L."

He read, trying to control the smile reaching his cheeks, it was nice...Very nice, actually..He quickly ushered on his shirt perfectly, wore his sport shoes and ran to the volleyball court of the school, other members already there. Kuroo huffing in annoyance as Yaku winked to him subtly, smiling, before nodding to the bleachers...

As he looked up to see a cute person, waving down at him with a soft smile and a shy expression...He softly waved too, walking closer to the bleachers as she leaned down to hand a him a water-bottle.

You handed to everyone, actually. But as you bent down a bit to give it to him, his eyes fall on your ID card dangling down...

R.L: R/X L/X. Nekoma, 2nd year.

Besides the brooch of the school on the ID, like it had everyone's initials...Hm, he was too busy staring at your ID, that he didin't even get a word out as you were simply dragged away by your friend outside.Your friend was one of the players' cousins or something, Kenma wasn't sure, but she pulled you out with her, claiming she needed you for something, telling them they'll survive without a manager for a day or two more.

But who were you to give him such a cute letter, attend to his interests within a few seconds and a piece of paper and then leave him without anything else, suddenly catching his feelings within a few second??.. R.L....Hm, he'll find you later, won't he?

𝕀𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕫𝕦𝕞𝕚 ℍ𝕒𝕛𝕚𝕞𝕖

Iwaizumi, stood outside the gym with the Matsun and Makki, both clowning off and troubling Kunimi to teasing him or something as they all waited for Oikawa to be done with his fangirls.

Iwaizumi sighed and opened his own locker, as he peered in, in the middle of his uniform, books and others was a love letter, as he scoffed. 'Another one' he thought, pulling the letter out as Makki and Mattsun stared at it, with grins,

"OI!! SHITTYKAWA, ANOTHER LETTER FOR OUR BUGABOO~~" Makki said in a high-pitched and dramatic as Oikawa turned to them, smirking as he apologized to his fangirls and took his leave, taking the letter from Iwaizumi as usual Kunimi, Kindaichi, Mattsun and Makki peered it as Oikawa tore open the letter.

The letter decorated with turquoise and teal decorations to match the Aoba Johsai jerseys and colour, which the guys thought was pretty cute of the person to do so...Iwaizumi paid him no mind, continuing to remove his shoes to change them.

But as Oikawa unfolded the letter and began reading it, his smile, pride and smugness depleted, he became pouty as Makki and Mattsun cheered idiotically and loudly as Iwaizumi turned to them as Oikawa folded the letter and placed it neatly back in the simply decorated envelope, shoving it to Iwaizumi with a pouty expression,

"It's for you."

Iwaizumi stood there, frozen as he hands reached for the letters and almost snatched it as he read over the words quickly...Oh fuck...

Dear Iwa-chan,

May I call you that?? I apologize but I write this letter to explain my hidden feelings for you. What else is there to say except that I adore you more than anything. You're so smart and so confident in what you do. I hope to reveal my feelings to you if I could, sadly I'm a coward who can't explain my feelings...

This letter may not suffice, but I hope it can bridge the gap between us, if possible. I would like to be your friend and get to know you more, as we learn of our feelings...Though that may remain a dream, I desire for it to be the truth, but until then..I adore you,

Love, R.

In perfect handwriting in teal ink with slightly stain of it at the edge of the paper. Does not matter, how long has it been has his heart fluttered like this? How come HE had a secret admirer...Oh he needed to find out who was this person behind the letter.

As Makki and Mattsun whistled lowly and kept saying and confessing the words to each other, dramatically, while Oikawa scoffed and pouted. How sweet, as they began walking down the hallway of Aoba Johsai to head to the volleyball gym, just as a student, who was running, bumped shoulders with Iwaizumi..

You tripped, almost slipping as Iwaizumi caught your wrist, "Ac-Fu-sorry...sorry!!" you apologized, bowing a bit as you held back onto his wrist and the jacket sleeve, removing your hand as you smiled, running away as Iwaizumi smiled and waved, god you were cute.

As he looked down, he noticed tiny stains of teal on his sleeve, matching the love letter he received as he turned to catch your own cardigan you wore on top of your uniform slightly stained with teal ink at the sleeve...

Maybe he'll catch you later on this ink and this...adoration of yours, yeah?

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ohtobeleah · 9 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Nine: The Pomegranate Theory

Summary: Jakes still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening with your health. Doctor Ignatii oversteps? And you settle in while Jake helps you write some of your newest book.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4.3K

Author Note: My birthday present to you all is a new chapter of Was It Over. Once again I just wanted to say thank-you all so very much for all the love and support you have given me throughout this series. It truly means the world to me.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The Pomegranate truly is the perfect symbol when comparing the differences between men and women. The enjoyment of a pomegranate is something that cannot and shouldn’t be rushed. Instead, it's something that requires patience and gentle hands. With deliberation and commitment comes the reward of its sweet, sweet flesh.

When rushed, there is failure to collect all the seeds. Many men sacrifice the collection of its entirety for the sake of saving time. They'd rather risk the loss of a percentage of the fruit for immediate gratification. What we often fail to consider is that there may be a reason for the dissimilarities between men and women. We tend to point out that the majority of men don't have the same attention to detail that women do instead of focusing on our individual strengths, and how they can balance and support each other.

Instead, you chose, for the longest of times, to consider that your husband was willing to learn something that perhaps didn't come instinctively to him as it did to you. It's the energy you put into cutting and deseeding the metaphorical pomegranate that represented your marriage, but Jake never seemed to want to learn how to carefully harvest all those beautiful seeds.

You and Jake both collectively brought so much to your marriage, you both had something to learn from one another in order to grow. But choosing resentment when you decided to step away from the man you loved more than life itself was never an option.

Because resentment always leads to isolation:

“Okay small steps for me Y/n.” Doctor Ignatii asked as he held your arms and stood before you. Everything hurt, everything felt wrong. Everything was stiff and out of place, but the sooner you were up and walking even if it was only a few steps here and there–the quicker your recovery would be. Having a stroke wasn't exactly defined as a step in your cancer treatment plan. No, it came right out of the left field and took you, your mother and your doctors by total surprise. “That's it, small steps.”

“I don't think I should keep going, it feels wrong.” Your body didn't feel like your own, the ground underneath your no-slip socks felt uneven. Your feet felt like lead–heavy and weak at the same time. Your head had maintained a dull ache since you woke up post surgery that hadn’t gone away. Overall you just didn't feel like yourself and it showed.

“Your neurological pathways need time to re-adjust to normal.” Doctor Ignatii was hopeful you'd have a pretty smooth recovery, his worry about any deficits post stroke was at a pretty low concern level just based on how quickly they were able to react to the stroke itself. “Give yourself some time, I'll touch base with the plastics department and oncology to discuss your pre-op notes prior to your mastectomy.” Doctor Ignatii explained as Jake watched with crossed arms off to the side as you took a few uneasy steps around the room littered with Christmas lights and decorations for the holiday seasons. “It's gonna be a slow but steady recovery, we just wanna make sure prior to your mastectomy that your body can handle the additional stress it's placed under while in surgery. The fact you're taking baby steps right now is a really good sign.”

“Can I have a shower soon by any chance?” All you wanted was to not feel sticky and gross. “Is that in the realm of possibility any time soon?”

“Only if you try to walk to the bathroom.” Doctor Ignittii replied with a quick wit you appreciated, he wasn't treating you like a sudden gust of a strong wind your be knocked on your sare and you truly appreciated the vote of confidence from your doctor. “But sure, I don't have any problem with you showering, maybe ask for some help?” Doctor Ignatii gestured over to where Jake stood just watching over you. He kept his respective distance but his eyes never left yours. He’s yet to leave your side for more than twenty minutes to grab something to eat, drink and take a deep breath. He was still trying to process how quickly things had changed.

“Happy to help.” Jake teased as he sent you a wink, the half sided smirk was prevalent across his flustered but composed face. “Respectfully.”

“Respectfully–” You replied as you stood on your own, Doctor Ignatti had stepped aside to let you take the lead. “You need to call our children and let them know you haven't abandoned them at their grandmother's house.”

“I should do that, shouldn't I?” Jake sighed, he'd been avoiding the call all together. With it being Christmas Eve Eve and your surgery still going ahead as planned, it was a call Jake wasn't looking forward to making.

“I think it might be a good idea–” You slowly but surely sat down on the edge of your hospital bed, the IV poll you were gripping for dear life pumped against the side before Jake stepped a little closer to fix the tangled wires and cords. “Thanks.” You smiled softly as you watched him work.

“I'll let you know how our pre-op meeting goes, Mrs Seresin.” Doctor Ignatti interrupted with a quick tight lipped smile. “And–” Jake raised an eyebrow as your doctor paused in his tracks. “Although probably unsolicited, I've seen too many families come through these halls to know time is a fickle thing, if your kids aren't aware of your current situation, I favour the side of full transparency, no matter the age.”

You didn't know how to respond so you said nothing and settled on a simple nod with kind eyes to match. Jake however, wasn't as graceful with his snarky growl. He was the very embodiment of a protective German Shepherd with his guard up.

“It's a good thing we didn't ask for your opinion then isn't it.” Jake snapped, he didn't mean to take his insecurities out on the man who had if nothing else saved your life.he was still trying to figure out who this Jensen guy was. But he did and it made you frown with shock horror that such a snarky comment would come from your husband's mouth.

“You’re right, I overstepped.” Doctor Ignatti held it hands up as if to say he was sorry. “I apologise, I'll be back later with an update for you.” You said nothing, you simply chose to remain silent until your doctor had left the room and silence had once again fallen over you and Jake.

“I didn't mean–” Jake wanted to say he didn't mean to be so snappy. That he really didn't mean to bite the hand that saved his wife, But you

“You meant it.” The tone you used broke right through the exterior of Jake's hardened shell. Despite his inability to make it known that all Jake was trying to do in that very moment was show a united front on your decision to keep your family, your husband and subsequently your children in the dark about your current situation—he still helped you back into bed, tucked your legs under the Blau and fixed your pillows. “And he’s right you know, whether we want to hear it or not the kids probably need to know why you left so abruptly.” Jake's phone had been ringing off the hook since he left his mother's house. Jasmine was persistent regardless if Jake was answering or not. Constant texts, missed calls, updates on the kids she knew he was thankful for despite his missing in action status.

“You wanna tell the kids what’s going on?” You and Jake hadn’t really discussed it, he was following your lead on this one. Jake didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you’d set he wasn’t aware of, or had unintentionally forgotten about. He was holding off on everything, telling his sister what the hell was going on, telling his mother more than she ever deserved to know, telling the kids their mum was a little sick.

“No—no, I wanna tell the kids, for now, that I’m just a little sick and that’s why I needed you here more than they needed you over the next few days.” You explained your view. “I don't want them panicking about me, they're young, too young to need to know the severity of the situation.”

“Not telling them doesn't make the truth any less real, Honey–what if we tell them and–“ Jake never got a chance to finish his sentence, he never got a chance to say that if you didn’t want to tell your kids he’d support your decision regardless if he agreed or not before you interrupted to explain where you were coming from.

“They don't need to know Jake, I can't tell them, I can't tell my children that I might be dying alright I just can't.” You were a little more harsh than need be, but the emotional weight of the situation was taking a toll on you. “But I wasn’t about to bite my brain surgeon's head off for offering a valid opinion on a rough situation.”

“You know what?” Jake cooed as he reached out to touch your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin. The gentle touch brought you a solace you'd never truly understand as Jake's emerald eyes swirled with all the love and admiration in the world. “You’re right.” Jake didn't want to argue, not now, not when he could tell your emotions were running high and life seemed like it was against you. You needed him in your corner, for better or worse. “I’ll call Jas, I'll tell her what's going on, full God's honest truth and then we’ll tell the kids that you're just a little sick.”

“Just a little–” You replied with tears in your eyes, they were pooling at your lower lash line, ready to spill and open the flood gates. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you.” Jake listened as the pad of his thumb worked to catch the falling tears that cascaded down your cheek. “I should have–you needed to know.”

“I understand why you didn't.” Jake sighed as he sat by your bed side. “I wasn't–” he began to explain but shortly after changed what he was about to say. “I put myself in a position where I could lose you, and I shouldn't have, you and me and whatever our marriage is right now isn't the priority so just know I'm not saying this to fix that.” Jake cooed as he felt his eyes watering. “Right now all that matters is that we focus on you and your health and making sure you are the only priority.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“I got you one of those pant by numbers kits and some lego flowers I thought you might be able to do to fill the time.” Your mother wore a fake smile so painfully obvious that it made your heart want to burst inside your chest. This wasn't and hadn't been easy on her, carrying the burden of being the only one who knew about your diagnosis. Now, as Jake sat by your bedside, your mother wanted nothing more than to tell him how thankful she was that she now had someone else to carry the weight with.

But Mary wasn't about to do that, no. She wouldn't make the situation about her. But watching her little girl go through something she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy was brutal.

“That's really nice of you mum, you didn't have to do that.” Jake frowned momentarily when he heard you say that go to line. ‘You didn't have to do that.’ It was a sentence he hadn’t heard in a long time. You always used to say it, Jake just wasn't sure when you had stopped saying it to him. There wasn’t an awful lot of things he was going out of his way to do that would earn him a bashful or somewhat self deprecating response like that.

“I know, but I saw them at Target and thought they might keep you occupied.” Your mothers smile faded just slightly as she placed your presents under the small christmas tree that sat on the top of the small cupboard that could be used to house clothing and personal items patients brought with them. You hadn't paid much mind to unpacking, all you had managed was your toiletries. But your mother had gone above and beyond to make the space you were taking up residency in a little more homie. “How’re you feeling anyway?”

“I'm alright, a little stiff but Doctor Ignatii said that's to be expected, he’ll be back soon to help with the first few steps.” You knew your mother wasn't really prying about a health update, but more about a romantic one. Her eyes quickly darted to where Jake still sat holding your hand in his. He was afraid that if he let go that you'd disappear. Or worse. “A little shocked to find out my children are still in Texas but I'm sure given the circumstances I'll manage.”

“Well at least they're supervised and with family, that's all that matters.” Your mother replied as she pushed a little of your hair behind your ear. “Have you given any more thought about cutting your hair?”

“You were thinking about cutting your hair?” Jake finally managed the courage to jump into the conversation, he still felt like an intruder of some sort. He was still trying to process everything, the very idea that you were battling an aggressive form of breast cancer along with the fact you'd suffered a very recent stroke was all too much for his brain to comprehend.

“I'm gonna lose it all anyway.” You shrugged as you pressed your lips together in a thin line. “May as well get ahead of the curve and shave it all off before it falls out.” Hair holds memories, in some cultures it's even considered sacred. In some religions women cover their hair after marriage for only their husbands to see, others keep theirs pure and untreated by dyes. Some women of colour from countries across the world prefer to wear their hair in protective styles that give their hair longevity and life.

But you? You were losing yours. The keratin in your follicles had stopped reproducing, your follicles were dying off and snapping. It was a hard pill to swallow if you were being completely honest, but if shaving your hair off before you were subjected to looking like your daughters weird barbie doll was something that could help you maintain whatever dignity you had left, you were going to do it, regardless if you were slightly worried about your head being an odd shape. It beats you know, dying after all.

“Doctor Ignatii already took a pretty big chunk anyway from the surgery.” Your mother added. “Besides, it's a little more empowering to shave it yourself than losing it over time.” Jake understood, so he didn't argue. It was your choice at the end of the day. “Now, I'm not staying for too long, I thought I'd head back to yours, tidy up, make sure the house is in order for when you're able to go home.” Before you had a chance to argue or say she didn't have to, Jake was advocating on your behalf.

“Thanks Maz, that's perfect.” He smiled softly as the pad of his thumb rubbed against your hand. All you did was nod along in agreement, it did sound nice. Unnecessary in your humble opinion, but nice.

It wasn't long after that your mother was saying her goodbyes to the both of you for the day, being along with Jake wasn't awkward, but it did feel a little uneasy with so much still left to discuss. All the potential what if’s and could be’s.

“Can you please pass me my laptop?” You were the first one to break the silence that had fallen between the two of you, only the steady threthem of monitors could be heard amongst the thick silence.

“You still working on that book?” Jake asked rather tentatively, it was a touchy subject. If you said yes then that meant you hadn't had time to finish it before your due date. Jake knew he played more of a role in that then he’d like to admit, but the idea you were still working on the same book meant the separation truly hadnt boded well in your favour to focus on your career. For Jake however, it had opened up another career advancement. The Daggers.

“Uh yeah actually I am.” You sat up a little straighter in your bed and fixed up the blanket covering your legs. “I shelved it there for a little while.” The explanation truly was just that, you hadn't really had all that much time to work on a new publication while trying to raise three children on your own. “I picked it up again around August, just haven't made much progress with it with everything that's been going on.”

“Do you feel like sharing some exclusive details with your number one fan?” Jake was almost unashamed in his attempt at breaking down your walls. “Who knows, I might be able to inspire some creativity.”

“Oh you're my number one fan now are you?” You chuckled softly as you watched Jake reached into the drawer your mother had put your laptop and charger in. “And there isn't much creative freedom when it comes to writing a bibliography for true crime, unless you count ghoulish overkill and an absurd use of dark humour to cover up the truly graphic details of the world's most notorious crimes.” Jake smiled back at you as he held your laptop in one hand, the rose gold Mac with stickers randomly pleased all over the lid.

“Don't be fooled by the good looks Honey, I can read a sentence or two without stuttering.”

“Could've fooled me.” You fired back without hesitation as Jake faked a shot to the heart. “You really want me to read some to you?” Jake hadn't asked about your work in months. You'd stopped wondering if he cared about your career path before you decided to walk away from your marriage to focus on yourself. At the end of it all you left believing Jake had stopped caring about the things that made you simply you.

“Yeah, of course, I mean–it would be nice to read some new material, after all–the copies I have back in North Island are pretty much falling apart from how much I tend to flick through them.” Jake had never been a big true crime fan, that was until you published your first book.

“Wait, you have my books? Which ones?” The revelation made your heart skip a beat inside your chest, so much so that Jake saw it on the monitor. It made his cheeks flush a crimson red at the very thought he could still make you this flustered.

“Uh–” Jake started as he came back down to sit beside you, opening up your laptop and placing it on the small but practical table that could go over your legs. “I have all five.” Jake would read the dedication every night before he went to bed and every morning before he went to work. They were all slightly different but the sentiment remained the same. His favourite one to read was:

“Dedicated to the man who loves me so, thank you for your service, I love you with all my heart.”

Jake knew deep down, after all the two of you had gone through, after all the hurt he’d unintentionally caused with his emotional disconnect, that the dedication in your newest book wouldn't be for him. It would be for your children.

“You've never told me this before?” Jake should have told you, he should have been more open, more honest about his feelings. He shouldn't have lost sight of what was truly important to him and it definitely shouldn't have taken losing you to realise how important you were. Jake had never known female rage until he dealt and fought with a woman who was feeling undervalued, unappreciated and unwanted.

“I should have, I know that now.” It was only a small gesture at the bottom of Everest itself but Jake knew now was the time he had to really put the effort in, to show you he truly cared, that he really did love you in sickness and in health. “I'd really like to sit here and maybe I can read what you've written so far out loud so you can just rest–and if there's anything you wanna change, I can do it for you.”

“Oh you don’t have to—“ Your sentence trailed off into nothing as you looked into your husband’s eyes, searching for an ounce of hesitation or burden in them. But all you saw were those emerald green eyes staring back at you with all the love and warmth in the world. Jake wanted to do this, truly. “Sure, yeah if uh—I’d really like that.”

It felt nice to be taken care of, to be valued and loved. But it wasn’t enough to undo the damage that Jake had unintentionally caused. He was going to have to put the work in, fight for you as much as you had to fight for your life.

“Okay.” Jake smiled as he cleared his throat and turned the laptop his way. “Alright Honey, let’s go from the top shall we?”

“Take it away Mr. Ghost Writer.” You cooed as you settled into your hospital bed and found a comfortable position, if anything you were feeling rather tired. Maybe you’d be able to get some more sleep soon—that wasn’t such a bad idea.

“In the early hours of January 1996, after an evening spent celebrating at Club Bayview in the Perth suburb of Claremonth, 18-year-old Sarah Spiers called a taxi to nearby Mosman Park. But when the cab arrived, she’d already gone. Sarah was never seen again.” Jake read out loud as you listened and laid there wondering if this was all some Lavender Haze to mask the reality that your marriage was over:

Or really how Jake wanted the two of you to be. Together again, in sickness and in health.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Just tilt your head a little.” Jake was being as gentle as he ever could be. “Let me know if I'm hurtin’ you.” The steam from the shower filled the bathroom as you sat on the little shower stool. The hot water cascaded down your naked self taking all the grimy sticky remanence from surgery away with it.

“Feels perfect.” You sighed in relief at the feeling of being clean once again, Jake stood behind you washing your body with a small lofa in soft circular motions. Under the water with you. It wasn't awkward to see each other so exposed, however, given the circumstances, you felt incredibly vulnerable. “Can you get my neck a little more?” Jake obliged to your request and moved the soap free suds around your next. It felt surreal, otherworldly even after the last few days. You let the silence fall around you as you reveled in the sensation of Jake's hands roaming your naked body in a not so sexual way. It felt nice to be touched in such a way that made you feel safe.

“Jake–?” Your voice sounded softer than it did just a few moments ago, your eyes lingered over to the sink where in the corner of your eye, you could see the clippers you’d bought with you to the hospital in preparation for this very moment. Originally you were going to do it yourself, then, you thought perhaps you could ask your mother–but now, sitting under the stream of steady warm water with Jake helping to cleanse your weakened body post surgery– you knew you had to ask him.

“Yeah Honey?” Jake cooed as he washed your body, being ever so careful to not knock and bump the cords and wires that were still attached to your arms. Doctor Ignatii had assured Jake they could get wet–but he was still sus.

“Will–will you shave my head?” The silence that followed as deafening as you felt Jake's hands nearly came to a complete stop. “I just–I dont think I'm strong enough to do it myself.” Again, Jake's silence was all consuming. “You don't have to if you don't want to, I uh–i understand if it’s too big of an ask–I can always ask mu–” Before you could go off on a tangent, Jake was interrupting as he came around to kneel before you.

“No, no Honey, of course I'll help you.” Jake made sure to clarify. “It's just–it's just no one ever prepares you for your wife to ask you to do something like this.” You saw the sadness in Jake's eyes, the understanding and compassion. “But of course, yes, I'll do whatever you need me to and if being your barber is something you need then consider me the best in the biz.”

Your heart couldn't contain itself inside your chest as you reached out to caress Jake's scruffed cheek. For whatever reason, you couldn't stop the worlds from escaping your lips.

“I love you–” The Pomegranate truly is the perfect symbol when comparing the differences between men and women. The enjoyment of a pomegranate is something that cannot and shouldn’t be rushed. Instead, it's something that requires patience and gentle hands. With deliberation and commitment comes the reward of its sweet flesh.

Jake knew it was the environment, the situation and the fear of being slowly taken by disease, but he couldn't help but to lean in, cup your face and kiss you like he’d missed you everyday since you left him back in January. The slow pull of desire ached in Jake's chest as your tongue danced with his: and as he pulled away to let his forehead rest against yours? He allowed himself just a single moment of reprieve:

“I love you so much Honey–oh so much.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin angst #top gun series #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction

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strawhbrrries · 1 year

Text

Three gifts and a kiss

pairing: reader x softish!joel miller

summary: three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart.

warnings: implied age gap (never mentioned), use of pet names (darlin’), straight fluff, no use of Y/N *please let me know if i forgot anything*

author’s note: this is my first real writing piece, outside of fanfic i wrote on wattpad when i was twelve, so please be kind with criticism! as much as i love smut i was too nervous to write it for my first post so i hope the fluff does justice. i really do hope you enjoy it! *not proofread*

word count: 2145 words

“Shh. Stop your fussing. I am just braiding your hair.” You teased, separating the three strands of hair you were overlapping into more organized strands to work with.

“It hurts!” Ellie whined, laying her head back in your lap to emphasize her point, bringing one her hands up to rub the side of her head to soothe the pain she swore up and down was the worst thing she ever felt.

Ellie was sat on the floor in between your legs reading whatever she had picked up off the end table when she came barging in your house demanding for her hair to be branded, something about how she had never learned and needed to be taught. Which was a big load of bullshit, as proved by the fact you were just braiding her hair and she wasn’t learning shit, well only half a load of bullshit as she truly had never learned.

Jackson wasn’t necessarily a boring place for you before Ellie and Joel showed up, but it wasn’t the most entertaining either. Bartending has its perks but outside of it, all the days blended together and were a never ending boring hell. The foul mouthed child made your days way more interesting, finding every excuse under the sun to find her way into your home. Not that you minded, but a knock would be nice every now and then. You enjoyed her company more than you expected when Tommy informed you that the empty house next door would be filled. You had actual friends your age, but most had adult responsibilities that started earlier in the day than yours did, besides Ellie being over occasionally meant Joel visiting to bring her home. Those were your favorite days.

The first time you ever met the infamous Joel Miller, is forever ingrained in your mind. His footsteps rattling through the house and the deepness of his voice as he called out for Ellie, you mentally noted that he was the reason she never knocked.

“In here Joel!” Ellie called out from your bedroom just up the stairs, giving you a look that expressed all her frustration of him just showing up.

“C’mon, dinners ready.” His voice carried through the house, not once had he really raised his voice since he showed up. His footsteps on the stairs sent her into a flurry to grab her things and go.

The two finger knock on the door captured your attention, never in your twenty years of living had you seen a man so attractive and he became so much more attractive the second he nodded his head in your direction. You knew it had been a long time when such a simple action made warmth flood your body.

“I’ll see you later, Ellie, hopefully the garden will be a bit more grown in soon so we can mess around in it !” You smiled, smoothing out the shirt you were wearing to try and make yourself more presentable for your unexpected handsome visitor. “It’s Joel, right?”

“Yeah, sorry it took so long to meet.” He spoke back, no emotion present. You added to your, short, mental notes about the man that he seemed almost robotic.

“‘s okay. Ellie said you’ve been pretty busy, I enjoy having her around. It was nice to meet you!” You spoke enthusiastically to try and elicit a response from him but all he did was nod his head out the door and left with Ellie trailing behind him. A frown and disappointment soon took over the warmth he had originally brought.

Joel never went out of his way to acknowledge you, sure he nodded his head every time you served him at the bar but unlike your other regulars he had no interest in your stories and new recipes. However, you always went out of your way to acknowledge him in subtle ways; always sending some leftovers home with Ellie, leaving a brand new guitar on his porch after Ellie told you he had broken his other one (admittedly, not your most subtle move), and a record of Linda Ronstadt with the words “I don’t need this back :)” scribbled on a piece of paper taped to it.

The leftovers he appreciated, not that he ever expressed his gratitude to you about it. They were nice after a long shift on patrol, especially so because he didn’t have to cook nor did he have to interact with people at the mess hall. He spoke more to you, kinder to you, after you started sending leftovers home with Ellie. You found him, much like Ellie, barging in more often and on one occasion found him in your garden inspecting the produce you had planted for the season.

“You’ve got weeds.” He’d mumble, as if he was genius of the year for that observation. “Prolly some bugs too.” Joel placed a hand on his knee and got up off the ground, standing awkwardly as he had previously planned to have been gone before you caught him here.

“By all means, if you can find insecticide that won’t cost me a fortune I would be forever indebted to you.” A chuckle slipped out at the thought that THE Joel Miller was in your garden going on about weeds. Life was weird sometimes. Your words earned you the first smile you’ve seen from the man, you thought about it every night from then on out. Joel, unbeknownst to you, thought of your giggle and the pretty blue sundress you had been wearing when you stumbled upon him every night.

The guitar, that one stirred up some trouble in the imaginary relationship you thought was going on with you and Mr. Miller. Ellie had come to help you cook and also gossip about Joel, you didn’t mind either, when he came storming in the house. You and Ellie exchanged a knowing look, but neither could’ve predicted the storm that was going to brew.

“Ellie. Go home.” His voice was low and his face mean. Everyone knew Joel Miller was a mean man but to be the person it was directed at, even worse.

“Wha- I’m just helping!” Ellie tried to plead her case, motioning to the half cut vegetables she was cutting.

“Go.”

Ellie, reluctantly, left which left you with the seething older man standing in your kitchen. Instead of speaking, you simply turned around to the vegetables Ellie just left and started chopping in hopes that maybe he would leave and you didn’t have to be the brunt of whatever anger he had about something you didn’t even know about!

“What did you trade.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and he expected an answer about point five seconds ago.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Also not a question, also a statement, most certainly a lie. You knew exactly what he was asking about, it was an act of kindness and you didn’t want to be scolded for caring about him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaned over the kitchen table that sat in between the two of you and let out a sigh. “Let's cut to the chase, darlin’. What the fuck did you trade. Don’t fuck with me either ‘cus I know you’re smarter than that.”

“What I did or did not trade for the guitar is not your business, I was being nice, Joel. Hard for you to get used to, I know.” Your words came out a bit harsher than intended, you weren’t trying to be rude all you had intended to do was give him a new guitar after his had broken.

Instead of a rebuttal all you heard was his boots hitting the floor and the slam of your front door. You were too angry to cry, all you had tried to do was be kind. Had he been embarrassed? Embarrassed about what, that someone cares for him? You were too angry to chop, the fear of accidentally cutting off a finger was a bit too real at the moment, so you settled for half the usual vegetables.

You still put leftovers on his porch. No amount of anger, and sadness for what occurred, would stop you from caring about him.

He didn’t speak to you for eight days. Never showed up to coax Ellie home. Stopped playing his, new, guitar on the porch. For eight days he gave you the cold shoulder, it sucked. He only caved on the eighth day when he overheard your boss mention you had called out of work three days in a row, he couldn’t figure out why he cared but he did. He knocked on your door four times before you opened it.

“You look like shit.” His words robotic as ever.

“If you came to be rude, leave.” Your response was weak and quiet, your skin pale and visibly clammy. You had stressed yourself sick.

“What happened?” He brought his hand to your forehead and immediately felt the heat, surprised you hadn’t melted yet.

For the first time in over twenty years, Joel had taken care of someone. He slept in the uncomfortable chair that sat in the corner of your bedroom, refusing the bed or the couch. He reheated meals and even made some of his own to make sure you were fed, and hydrated. For the first time since you met, you felt that he truly cared. He even let his guard down enough to, begrudgingly almost so much he could’ve convinced someone he was forced to do it, lay with you when the blankets weren’t enough to fight off the shivers. Ellie teased him in the privacy of their home that he was developing a crush, and he was.

The Linda Ronstadt record was your most genius idea. When you had first met Ellie, she mentioned a cassette her and Joel listened to when they were first driving out here. You asked for the artist and her exact words were “I don't know. Linda blah blah blah.” The guitar incident was long forgotten so you figured gifts were pretty safe now. A coworker had mentioned trading a few records for some home cooked meals, and the stars aligned so perfectly that one of them happened to be the exact record Ellie had spoken about (or so you hoped).

Joel frequented your place more often, he found your company more appealing than his own, and you enjoyed it more than you let on. You had Ellie leave the record somewhere in his room to find after his patrol shift.

The now familiar sound of Joel’s boots hitting the floor as he took them off filled your living room. However, he was supposed to be on patrol and definitely not here in your house holding a Linda Ronstadt record.

“Darlin’ what’s with the gift?” He asked softly, or as soft as he possibly could. His body finding comfort next to yours on the couch, plucking the note you wrote off the record and tucking it away into the pocket of his flannel.

“Ellie said you liked her, someone at work was gettin’ rid of it. Figured you might like it.” A smile making itself home on your face, he thought it was the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. He’d gone soft.

“I don’t own a record player sweet girl.”

“You’ll have to visit more then. Or! Let me give you one!”

“I’ll just let you have it, hopefully the lyrics haven’t left my brain just yet and I can teach ‘em to ya.” He placed the record on the end table next to him and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Can’t believe I was such a hard ass on you, sweetest thing to ever grace my life.”

“I knew you’d come around eventually.” Looking up at him softly and caressing his cheek before placing the gentlest of kisses to his lips. “Thought you were supposed to be on patrol anyway.”

“Got someone to switch with me after I saw the record, had to come see my girl.” Joel responded, placing a kiss on your lips before trailing his thumb along your bottom lip.

Three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart. The leftovers no longer found their way onto his porch, as eventually it became your porch and the leftovers found themselves in a new fridge. The guitar was played and used to teach Ellie how to play, you often spent evenings on the porch listening to someone strum it. The record was always on repeat when Joel was home, until he accidentally dropped it on the floor consequently covering it in scratches unable to be played. As for the kisses, they never stopped and each one filled your body with butterflies that could burst out at any moment.

#joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedropascal #maddies fics

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merowkittie · 11 months

Text

Art Therapist!Reader x Task Force 141

Summary: Today we’ll get to look at the first client, John Price.

Notes: I should comment that I’m not sure if I want this to go in a platonic route or a romantic way so we’ll see from here. Might make the readers decide. <3

I hope i capture all of the boys good, because I’m still fairly new writing for the cod men.. sorry if they’re very ooc </3

Oh boy.. writing this took a minute and I’m so not impressed with this one but trust.. this will get better :)

Do reblog, like, and comment to lmk what you think about this!

Thank you, sweets! 🎀

Part One. Client One: John Price.

The clack of your heels were heard through the halls as you smiled brightly, excited to get to know one of your new clients.

You had two sheets on a clipboard in your arms, a notepad in the other and a tote bag in your left arm.

You had some things you’d like to discuss with him, comforts, favorite snacks and tea. These are important you know! You always got the jitters when you had a new client.

Walking into your small office you sat your bag down on the side of your chair, and placed the clipboard and notepad neatly on your desk.

A sigh left your mouth and you rolled your neck around, trying to crack it and find relief.

“Mm.. ok, where to start..?” You mumbled to yourself as you looked at your bag and nodded.

Starting to unload everything you put your thermal cup filled with peppermint tea on your desk, a sketchbook, coloring book, and coloring pencils neatly into a pile.

Next you pressed the button on your work phone to hear all of your new voice mails and put lights on, in the dimly lit room.

You had two lamps that brightened the room with a nice yellow hue and a flower lamp on your desk that shined a pink light.

“Ms. Kate left a voice message, it says, ‘Good morning, you said 9:30 but we’ll be there a bit earlier than that. He’s adamant about being early to things. John is a very— He’s a man that likes to stay on the move you know? Keep that in mind. He likes his hands full. Anyways, see you around 9:20– 25. Thank you, Again.’ —”

You laughed at her comment, knowing well you like to have your hands full too and can’t stay doing nothing for too long.

The time on your clock stated 9:15, so they’d be here soon. There wasn’t much else you needed to set up in your cozy office but you decided to fluff out the pillows on the couch across from your desk and prep your notes.

Finally, after you killed some time drawing in your sketchbook you heard a knock on your door. There was quiet chatter.

“Come in please!” You called out, closing your sketchbook and looking up towards the door.

In walked in who you assumed was Kate Laswell and behind her was a handsome gruff looking man. He was very well built, a nice beard and mustache and he looked around the same age as the woman. He also had a nice ass but you shook your head away from those thoughts.

Standing up your walked around your desk and grinned widely, you stated your name and then, “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. I’m very excited for todays session if you couldn’t tell..”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’m hoping this goes smoothly.” The man, who you’re sure is John, smiles at you and nods approvingly.

“Yes, you won’t give her a hard time right?” Kate jokes and he shakes his head and raises his eyebrows.

“She should be worried about Soap. That man is a twat sometimes.” You chuckled along with him and waved your hand dismissing that.

You pointed to the couch and asked them to have a seat so you could talk to them about basics first and grabbed your notepad and a pen, sitting in your chair.

“Before we start, I want to re-introduce myself. My name is y/n, and I’ve been doing art therapy for three years. I have a degree in arts and a degree in counseling/therapy.” You waved your hands around as you talked.

Kate and John nodded at your words as you spoke and they seemed pretty impressed with what you said.

“Kate Laswell, John Price. It’s nice to meet someone enthusiastic like you.”

You smiled at the comment and then let the two settle in on the couch. Tapping your fingers in your desk you spoke again.

“Ok so, I’m sure you may have questions that you wanted to ask personally! Some worries and concerns?” You tilted your head to the side and smiled, “Or would you like me to give you a brief explanation on what I strive to achieve with art therapy?”

“It’s be nice if you explained it better.. I feel like this is too childish for a man like me.” John commented.

“Mhm, I understand what you mean. A lot of people believe that but it’s all about what works for YOU. Art is a form of expression that anyone can use. Why not incorporate that into helping others and finding yourself too, Hm?” You aided.

It was a bit silent in the room after what you said. John nodded his head, his arms crossed over his chest and pursed his lips, turning to face Kate.

“I like you. Hopefully the boys will too. God knows we need this type of energy with the line of work we’re involved in.” Kate sighs, “I’ll take my leave, and be back around.. 10:30?”

“Yes! 10:30 or you can come around 10:25. Either works for me, If it works for you,” You got up and extended your hand, “Thank you, by the way. I live my life as optimistic as possible and like to bring that into the workplace.”

Kate nods and shakes your hand. Her hold is firm and strong, she’s a kind woman.

“John, play nice.” She said, facing the older man, before leaving and giving you a smile.

After she left you looked at Price and clapped your hands together.

“Well, now I have some personal questions for you. These are about boundaries but I hope you do know we might have to cross them once in a while ok?” You sat on top of your desk this time moving your notepad and pen onto your lap.

John folded his hands on his lap and looked at you in your eyes. It was silent for a moment yet again, though you didn’t mind. If he needed time to formulate his words you’d give him all the time in the world.

He opened his mouth then closed it, with a huff he said, “There’s not many boundaries I have, I’m sure you’re supposed to start slow when doing these sessions, yea?” you nodded, “So I believe you won’t be asking too much about me yet, so when the time comes.. I’ll be somewhat of an open book.”

He smiled at you slightly, tight lipped and tapped his fingers against his knuckles.

You took a breath in, then let it out. Humming at his words you write down on your note pad:

‘Price. Little to no boundaries at all. Open book maybe by the third sesh.’

His eyes watch your fingers as you’re writing, he’s a bit tense, not really knowing what to do. He can already imagine Simon being worse than he is right now.

“Ok so! I do have a question that Ms.Kate didn’t really specify, and I forgot to ask. Is there a problem that’s bugging any of you? Or is this just to maintain a good mind set— or close to an ok mind set?” You put your hands out, trying to elaborate in a more understanding way, “For example, keeping your anger in check, having an outlet to let out heavy emotional burdens.. those types of things?”

John ran his fingers through his beard and tapped his foot on the ground, thinking on what you said. He didn’t exactly have any thing bugging him, he’s been working in the military for well around 18+ years and that’ll get you used to the atrocities you see.

“I’m pretty sure Kate had the latter in mind when doing these sessions. I know I don’t have much bugging me, I’m about ready to retire sometimes,” he joked with a laugh, “It’d be nice to have an outlet from what we do every now and then.”

You laughed with him and nodded your head. His words resonated well with you. Anyone knew that working in the military/army would drain you. Could leave you mentally unwell after years.

So you strived to understand and learn each and every one of these men. To hopefully be able to aid them in different, helpful ways.

“Well, im glad you think so! Now, I actually have something I want you to do today. It’s very simple.”

Pulling out a coloring book and some color pencils, you held them out in front of you, “So, we won’t be doing anything too big— yet! I have a coloring book here that goes based off of mood. It’s also a journal. I want you to write in this everyday, starting today, ok?”

John raised his brows at you and you raised yours back. He scratched his beard and looked down at the coloring book with different mood faces on it. He took a copy of one book and a pack of coloring pencils you offered after.

You opened up the book to the first page and pointed to the happy face. Underneath the face were lines and a quote that asks you why you were feeling the emotion you were feeling.

“Currently I’m feeling happy, I’ll take a yellow pencil and color that face in.” You explained simply, “I’m feeling this way because I’ve had my favorite tea, my cat cuddled with me this morning, and I’m looking forward to my new clients.”

Once you finished you turned the book around and showed John. “That’s all you have to do. Nothing too long, but if you prefer to do that I don’t mind. Just don’t give me a word or two. I want one to three sentences.”

You watched as he began to do what you did. He colored in the neutral face with a brown colored pencil and underneath he wrote two sentences explaining why he felt that way.

For the rest of your session you introduced yourself more and had him give you tid bits about his life and line of work. In your mind you wanted to have this space be as personal but comfortable as possible.

You talked a bit about your life as well, giving him insight into your day to day life and how your other sessions go sometimes without disclosing private information about your other clients.

Soon enough the time came to when he had to leave and your session ended.

As Kate waited by the door, you put your hand out towards John, “I hope to see that book filled out. If anything is bothering you after today, write it down and we can go over it, yea?” He nodded his head shaking your hand, and let out a gruff ‘yes’.

He left with that and you were alone in your office thinking over this mornings events. It was slow paced and simple. You didn’t like unpacking a lot of information on the first day. Over time they’d get more comfortable and the art part of this would help them express how they felt without speaking. Actions are always far bigger than words.

You cracked your knuckles and went back to your chair, looking through your schedule planner, tomorrow you’d have a man by the name of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Huh, what a name.

Tag list: @speckledemerald @mxtokko

If you want to be notified when more parts of this series comes out please lmk and I will add you to the tag list <3

#reader insert #black reader #cod mw fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 price #john price x black reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #cod mw art therapy au ୨୧

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huggybearhughes43 · 5 months

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okay so i have an idea.. basically reader just broke up with someone and she went back to her hometown to get away from everything for a little bit, and she re found her old high school boyfriend (vince dunn) but now he was older more mature and like really hot 😜 and they would in secret “hang out” (iykyk😉) so they wouldn’t be caught by paparazzi (ALSO THIS CAN BE SMUT BUT IF YOU DONT WANNA WRITE IT AS SMUT THEN U DO WHATEVER U WANNA WRITE GIRLIE 😝()

More than anything

Vince Dunn X Fem! Reader

Warnings- none just fluff, past mentions of Vince being toxic in high school, lmk if you guys want a part two with smut

Summary- in the request :)

Word count- 624

My fingers fidget at my side as I contemplate actually doing it. I’m back in Lindsay, Ontario. It was off season, I knew that. I’m stood in front of Vince Dunns childhood home, the one I knew he stayed in when he wasn’t in his apartment in Seattle. I couldn’t lie, I missed him, his stupid smile, his pretty eyes. It might’ve been an act to just get back in my pants, it’s what he would’ve done in high school. But after the breakup two months ago, I had to see him again.

My shaky hands raise to knock on the door. I curse under my breath as I wait for someone to open the door, he didn’t know I was here. Hell, we hadn’t spoken in about five years, six years after we broke up our senior year. The last we had spoken was us catching up, nothing special. It wasn’t even in person, it was over text.

The door creaked open to reveal Vance. He was older, obviously, I knew he was going to look different. But what I didn’t know was how amazing he’d look. His curls were more defined, so were his cheekbones, and his jaw line. I was surprised he didn’t have a line of girls out his front door.

His eyes lit up at the sight of me. I figure I looked different as well. “Y/n…?” He smiled. God that smile, the smile I remember from every football game, every break in between classes, every hang out sesh after school. “Shit, I’ve missed you! I- I- fuck, come in.” He smiles, standing to the side to let me into the house.

That’s how me and Vince Dunn became friends again. For the first time since high school we actually laughed together, watched movies together, went on walks together. But what I forgot was that he was literally famous. People were taking photos from every corner of every road we walked on. In a week’s time our photos were plastered every where. “Vince Dunns new Girlfriend” “Who is Vince Dunns new girl?” “Vince Dunn spotted with new girl in his home town of Lindsay”.

Me and Vince were tired of it. Originally we planned to spend a day at the beach down at Sturgeon lake. But with all off these creeps taking photos, I didn’t feel like spending a day in public in a bikini knowing old men were probably taking photos. So instead Vince suggested to spend the day at his place in which I happily agreed to. Which leads to now, a pizza box on his coffee table as we’re cuddled up into a shared blanket, watching “The Haunting In Connecticut”. I had to force myself not to joke him at the fact that he remembered our favorite movie to watch together.

Vince’s arm was wrapped around my waist, his thumb rubbing at my side. We spoke about everything and nothing, catching up on our years spent apart. His voice had deepened and his jaw line had sharpened, everything that was new I couldn’t help but notice. It was like he was a new man, like hockey had changed him.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He softly whispers in my ear as he manages to wiggle himself to lay his head on my lap. I smile as my hand falls to his hair, combing my fingers through his curls. “Happy I came back to visit, hm?” I tease and his smile falters. “I’m just fucking with you,” I giggle “if I hadn’t missed you I wouldn’t have came here.” My fingers find their way to almost caress the side of his face. I naw at my bottom lip, staring at him.

“I’ve missed you more than anything.”

#smut #hockey smut #nhl #vince dunn smut #vince dunn

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rynwritesstuff · 1 year

Text

No Way to Say ‘Goodbye’

Kylo Ren x Reader

Warnings: Literally just so much unspoken love. Like, an insane amount of it.

Word Count: 830

Summary: You wake up with Kylo Ren.

Author’s Note: This is just a reminder that my requests ARE open for pretty much any of Adam’s characters! If you have any ideas, thoughts, or requests, feel free to send them my way :) Also, I am thinking of making a new taglist for my writing, so if you’d like to be tagged in my writing, let me know, and I’ll be sure to make that happen! - Ryn

“I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm, your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm. Yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new. In city and in forest, they smiled like me and you, but now it's come to distances and both of us must try. Your eyes are soft with sorrow, and hey, that's no way to say goodbye . . .” - Hey That’s No Way to Say Goodbye, Feist

It is early when Kylo Ren wakes and looks over to his left. You are sleeping beside him, your chest rising and falling steadily as you dream. He finds himself wondering what it is you’re dreaming about. If it’s good. If it’s calm. If it’s him.

He’s leaving today. That much is certain. He has to find the scavenger, turn her, bring her to the Dark Side. He’s not sure how long he’ll be gone for. Kylo reaches down and caresses your cheek, an action that he normally wouldn’t be caught doing during the day. If the two of you were on a planet, though, the sun wouldn’t even be up, so Kylo lets himself touch your cheek. Your hair is splayed out on his pillow, and you stir as he pulls his hand away.

This could be the end of everything, Kylo realizes as emotion rises behind his eyes. He doesn’t cry. He never cries, but he might right now. You just look so beautiful and soft and . . . Good.

You are good. A good lover, a good conversationalist, a good person. He’s the complete opposite, always so tied up with responsibilities and tasks that mean little to him. He doesn’t have time to be good.

Your eyes open slowly, and Kylo’s face is the first thing that you see. You smile instantly. Kylo isn’t sure why.

“Hey,” you say, reaching for his hand. “What time is it?”

“Five,” Kylo says. You hum, bringing his hand to your lips so that you can kiss his fingers. He swallows harshly. “When do you have to go?”

“Soon.”

You nod, looking away from his face so that you can focus on his hand. His hands are so lovely: Big and rough and strong. You bring it up to your cheek, silently asking him to touch the skin there.

He does.

“You should go,” Kylo breathes, voice barely above a whisper. He knows that his voice is on the verge of shaking. You nod, offering him a small smile.

“I know, love,” you say. Kylo rubs your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Will you call me while you’re away?”

“If you would like that,” he says. “Of course I would.”

You sit up, stretching and looking away. You knew this was coming, but you didn’t think it would be so soon. You thought he’d at least get you something to eat, something to drink, something to hold onto.

You go to stand and get re-dressed – you’re still naked from the night before – and Kylo catches your wrist. You look back at him.

“I . . . “ he starts.

There is so much he needs to tell you, like how he notices the way you stare at him during meetings, and how much you make him feel, and how deeply you have derailed his existence just by being yourself and having him in this way.

He closes his mouth.

You sigh, then pull away and grab your clothes. You get dressed slowly, and you feel his eyes on you the entire time. You grab Kylo’s undershirt, the one he was wearing last night, and slip it on over your uniform. “May I keep this?” you ask him.

“Yes.”

You nod, then pull the sleeves down over your wrists. “I’ll, um . . . I’ll go, then,” you say after you pull your boots on. Kylo stands quickly, still wearing only a pair of underwear, and steps in front of you. He looks at you desperately, wishing more than anything that you could simply read his mind so that he wouldn’t have to say it out loud–

“Please be safe while I’m gone,” Kylo says. You put your hands on his warm chest as he speaks. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

You smile softly, gently, and reach up to touch the scar on his cheek.

“Nothing will happen to me, love,” you say. “Don’t worry. Just bring the scavenger back with you, alright?”

Kylo nods.

“I will.”

You lean up and kiss him, then. It is deep. Passionate. Loving. It conveys all that the two of you are too afraid to say: I love you. I need you. Take care of yourself.

You pull away, tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, and offer him a smile.

“I’ll see you, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo nods, pulling his hands off of your hips as you take your hand off his cheek.

“Yes,” he says quietly. “Soon.”

#rynwritesstuff #kylo ren #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x yn #kylo ren fluff #kylo ren angst #star wars #star wars characters #star wars character #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fic #adcu fanfiction #adcu author #adam driver #adam driver fic

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aeithalian · 1 year

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As promised: Leto, Zeus, and parenting

I'M SORRY i know i said i'd get around to this two weeks ago but life got crazy but anyways HERE WE GO

I'm not the first to say this: we know virtually nothing about Leto and her parenting style. She makes a total of one appearance, is mentioned a couple times (mostly in the context of re-explaining Python's relevancy), and is only mentioned by another character besides Apollo once in the entire Riordanverse. For being the mother of one of the main characters, she is frustratingly underutilized as a character.

Yippee.

But, of course, I am going to dredge up every single reference to her parenting and personality as possible and determine just what kind of person and parent she is. Because here's my theory:

Apollo, while he is under expectations to be more like either Zeus or the other gods in terms of his parenting, probably takes more after Leto. So I think that if we can parse out Leto's personality and combine it with what we know of how Apollo parents, it gives us a good clue as to how Apollo and Artemis were raised.

First things first. Leto. Here's a list of things we know about her (aside from what happens in the myths):

Koios (her father) believes she would fight against Zeus due to the way he treated her after the twins were born (THoH)

Koios also considers her as one of the more peaceful Titans (THoH)

Leto seems to have an established life in a Florida condo (raising the question if she ever actually needed to reform or wasn't banished to Tartarus like the other Titans) (TDP)

Zeus and Leto used to have a much better relationship! (eg. the duet Apollo remembers them singing when he was a baby) (TDP)

Apollo writes a song for her every Mother's day (like the good momma's boy he is) (TDP)

Leto is willing to literally grovel in front of Zeus to save Apollo from his punishment (TDP)

Apollo (in a moment of mental haziness) can remember the impressions of Zeus and Artemis in his memory, but not Leto (TBM)

When calling to his godly family for help, Leto is the third (and last) person Apollo thinks of. Zeus is the first. (TON)

There's more to be said on the dichotomy between how Koios and Apollo perceive her, as well as Rick's nonexistent timeline skills, but that's pretty much all we know about her. That, and while she never had a traditional domain before the twins were born, she was later worshipped as a goddess of motherhood due to the large scope of influence her children had.

In summary, Leto:

Has a lot of reason to be angry with Zeus, but puts those feelings aside out of love for her children (and possibly because she remembers having that positive relationship with Zeus)

Is considered to be peaceful, but might not be (she might have condoned the murder of Niobe's children, among other stories). Regardless, she's considered gentle (by Hesiod, namely 👀 iykyk), and is one of the most celebrated mother figures in Ancient Greece aside from Demeter

Has a more distant relationship with her children for some reason (maybe the fact that she is a Titan and has lost favor with the gods, but based on how little Apollo mentions her compared to Zeus, he might not see her a lot)

We've never really met Leto, but based on this limited information, I think we can safely say that her personality probably includes traits such as gentleness, forgiveness, and responsiveness.

So, what does this tell us about how Apollo parents? Nothing, yet. So let's move on to Zeus.

NOBODY is surprised when I say this: Zeus sucks.

According to Apollo, Zeus very heavily utilizes what is called in psychology positive punishment, where a (typically unpleasant) stimulus is introduced in order to decrease a certain behavior that is seen by the punisher as undesirable. This is apparent every time Apollo talks about feeling the pain of Zeus' lightning bolts, or even when he compares Zeus to Nero and his Beast (the Beast being the stimulus that is introduced to keep Meg from rebelling).

Interestingly, the entirety of the ToA series and turning Apollo mortal could fall under the definition of negative punishment, where a stimulus (in this case, Apollo's godhood) is removed to decrease an undesirable behavior. However, turning Apollo mortal is still an introduction of a stimulus: pain.

See the similarities? Tangent aside, this is how Zeus parents. Restriction, then giving pain when the rules are broken, which then creates fear around those restrictions.

Let's give these firm definitions. Traditional psychology gives us four main parenting styles built around variances in how responsive and demanding a parent is. Take the image below:

Zeus is the easy one here: Authoritarian. I feel like we don't even need to discuss any further, he's quite literally a textbook definition. As king of the gods, he can't be responsive to everyone, but must demand much from his all-powerful subjects. The problem is that it bleeds into his parenting too much. He's ruling his children.

Leto is harder. Mostly because we just don't know enough about her, but I like to think she's got a higher level of responsiveness. Those types of parents are usually warmer, which goes along with Apollo's account of her and what we know from the myths about her gentle demeanor. So that narrows it down a bit, but her level of demandingness is harder to pin down. That's the issue when your children are immortal - you don't demand much from a child who is more powerful than you and matures fully within a week. I think Leto may lie somewhere in the middle of authoritative and permissive, but let's give her the benefit of the doubt. If she's the Titaness of motherhood, let's assume she's a great mom and say she's Authoritative.

Don't forget those, we'll come back to that.

The thing about parenting is that it's passed down from generations. We raise our children the way our parents raised us. That's why we call them "cycles" of abuse - because it keeps happening. That being said, I'm fairly confident that Apollo takes after Leto when it comes to parenting, because we see that he's already broken the cycle - even before we spent five books with Apollo, he's never outright harmed one of his own children the way we know Zeus did to him. So if he's not following Zeus' example, he's probably mimicking Leto's. Which then means he probably takes after her personality a bit, too, which was characterized by being gentle, forgiving, and responsive.

I don't know about you, but feels just like the Apollo we know.

Going back to the four parenting styles, you might be ready to call Apollo the Authoritative parent because it's the same as Leto's and call it a day. That's the point I was making, no? Wrong!

Yes, the ideal Apollo would be Authoritative. But, you know, we see him interact with his children, and he's just... not? What I think is that Apollo has gone through (or will go through) all four.

Authoritarian - This would be the first one he tries, because he might feel like he has to be like Zeus. There's one example of this with Koronis (yes, not really an example of parenting, but personality-wise, it's very Zeus-y), where he has Artemis kill her as a punishment for cheating. The story continues, blah blah blah, he fails to heal her but saves Asclepius by performing the first C-section. But I think that this is the moment where he choses to not be that kind of father. He gives Asclepius to Chiron as one of his first students, and from what we know of Apollo and Asclepius' relationship, it's good! Asclepius calls him "Dad" in BoO and wishes him the best - but it's still distant, in a sense. The apple fell pretty far from the tree, because acting like that, especially with the inner knowledge we have of Apollo from five books of content, never indicates Apollo being demanding and simultaneously lacking in any kind of responsiveness. So, in conclusion, Apollo has never consistently been Authoritarian, and being as such is in direct contradiction to his personality.

Uninvolved - This is what the gods (aside from Zeus, as king) are supposed to be, especially with their mortal children. If Apollo cannot be like his father, then he might as well try and be like all the other gods: being neither demanding nor responsive. We get hints of this with the Trophonius story - Trophonius' greed becomes his downfall, and Apollo does not intervene when called upon. Even without knowing what their relationship looked like before Agamethus died, it's pretty obvious that Apollo was absent on most accounts. We also see this example with other gods and their children - Poseidon and Percy, for one. Poseidon is never there, because this is what is expected and enforced by Zeus. Zeus, also, skews towards being Uninvolved with his mortal children - Jason met him once, people. But, again, this is pretty unlike Apollo to be able to maintain - he's simply too naturally responsive and empathetic to conform to this standard, and he confesses to the audience that he feels guilt around Trophonius' fate, indicating that being an Uninvolved parent was not something he found comfort and ease in.

Permissive - I believe that Apollo is most comfortable as a Permissive parent. But this goes along with something that I've always believed: Apollo doesn't necessarily parent his kids. I don't think many gods do (this goes along with another meta I want to do on godly maturity and how it relates to parenting, but I digress). Apollo is lacking in being demanding enough to properly parent his kids, but he makes up for it in overwhelming responsiveness. We know he's highly aware of other's needs, we see this a lot with his relationship with Meg, and this is something that he finds easy. He's sensitive and empathetic towards everyone, especially his own children, and (in the later books) has a great sense of what to say and when in order to get people to open up. But that lack of demanding is still there, and I think this is interesting for several reasons. It makes me wonder if Apollo does not demand from his children because he feels like he has not yet earned the right to. If it were me, and I had the face and body of a person the same age as my children, I would find it difficult to be the more mature person, too. But even at the end of the series, it doesn't look like he's making any moves towards being more demanding: when Rachel gives the prophecy to Will and Nico, he steps back into the Permissive parent role and indulges Will in what ends up being an incredibly dangerous quest to Tartarus (side note: this is one of the several reasons I found TSatS disappointing, because there are so many stones left unturned with how the premise could have allowed both Apollo and Will to realize that Apollo being a Permissive parent is not what Will needs). Yes, Permissive parents aren't bad parents, but especially with demigod kids who lack in proper parental figures that aren't Chiron, they might not necessarily be good parents either.

Authoritative - This is what Apollo has the potential to become, but it's going to take a huge wakeup call. The entirety of the ToA series is about Apollo learning that the way the gods have been doing things is not something he has to adhere to, and that he's allowed to utilize his natural instincts from Leto to be responsive. But being demanding is a whole new can of worms: Zeus is the only one who seems to be allowed to be demanding, but he does it without the responsiveness that makes it healthy. I think Apollo has yet to learn this - that you can demand from your kids and still be a good parent.

I wish there was more I could add. Artemis is a whole new rabbit hole that I'd love to go down, but alas, we know even less about her parenting styles because, well, she doesn't really have kids. Oops.

Alas, that's all I've got. The promised meta about Hermes and Apollo's relationship is coming soon!

Here's a masterlist of my other metas

#toa #riordanverse #trials of apollo #apollogists #meta #leto #zeus #apollo and parenting

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