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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

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Midnight kisses

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Jackson celebrates the New Year’s Eve, and you're thinking about finally confessing to your crush how much you like him. but Joel Miller, the object of your affections, might have other plans in mind. (based on this adorable request!!)

Tags: FLUFF my beloved 🥰, Joel is very flirty in this one, lots of crushinggg, just old sweet mutual pining (also they're both lovesick idiots)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk, jealousy, age difference

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: i had a lot of fun with this one 🥰 thank you so much once again for the request, dear, i hope you'll like what i came up with. (btw this was supposed to be a short fic but it seems i'm unable to write one 😔) still i hope yall will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The party was in a full swing.

You didn’t expect anything else from the Jackson community. Ever since you arrived here, you were astounded by the effort that the people living in this small town were making to create a life as normal and joyous as possible – for their children and themselves. And today, on New Year’s Eve, they outdid themselves. There was food, music and drinks – almost as if the apocalypse outside those walls never happened.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping on your beverage while you waited for your friend, Angie, to arrive. Dancing alone didn’t sound like an appealing idea, so while you waited for her, you opted for some people-watching – though if you were honest with yourself, it was more like ‘person-watching’.

Your eyes strayed to a figure on the opposite side of the room for like a twentieth time, but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Because there stood a man who still, even after more than a year of knowing him, made the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Joel Miller.

He looked really good in a clean flannel and fitting jeans, you conceded. His hair was slightly wet, like he washed it just before coming to the party, and combed a little to the back, making the silver strands in his hair and beard shine in the low lights. You found yourself unable to look away or get rid of that stupid grin on your face that lingered when Joel smiled lopsidedly at something his brother said. The muscles in his arm bulged when he lifted his glass to take a sip, and you watched the lines of his neck when his throat bobbed...

“You’re ogling,” murmured a voice next to your ear, and you jumped a little in surprise. Next to you stood Angie, smirking at you.

“Jesus, Angie.” You put your hand on your chest, your heart pounding rapidly. “A ’hello’ would be nice.”

Your friend knew, of course, about your massive crush on Joel Miller, and you thought more than a year of pining on your part would cause her to grow bored of all the jokes and teasing that she threw your way. Apparently, you were wrong.

“Hello,” she said, then sat down on the other chair and leaned closer to you with a wide smile. “You’re ogling. In a room full of people, may I add.”

“I’m not,” you murmured defensibly, but your face grew warm at the realization that she caught you. “How long have you been standing here, anyway?”

“Like half a minute. By the way, you’re also drooling.”

“I’m not!” you repeated, now in an irritated whisper. You knew you weren’t drooling, but still had to refrain yourself from wiping your mouth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “Stop making things up.”

“You should just go talk to him.” Angie casually nodded in Joel’s direction. “He didn’t come with a date, sooo…”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”

“Uh, duh!” Angie flicked you on the forehead, and you hissed. “For you to make a move. You can… oh, I know!” she bounced in her seat excitedly and clapped her hands. “Ask him to dance with you!”

You almost snorted. “Joel Miller dancing? Sure. He wouldn’t agree even if he did like me.”

“He does like you. Jesus, you flirt with each other all the time.” The smile disappeared from her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. And maybe dead.”

“There’s no flirting, I told you.” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at the object of your affection. “He talks in this way to everyone.”

“He never called me ‘darling’,” Angie retorted. “Or gave me his jacket when we got caught up in the rain.”

You smiled softly at the memory, but that just made you feel even more hopeless, because since that day, you weren’t able to have a normal conversation with the man you liked so much.

“What do I do?” you whined, leaning on the table. “He’s so beautiful. And he for sure doesn’t see me that way.”

“Are you drunk already? You said you didn’t want a repeat from–”

“–from last year, yeah,” you finished for her and sighed. “I’m not drunk, just feeling down. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell him I like him, Angie.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.” Your friend nudged you gently. “You can just inconspicuously take him under one of the mistletoe and go ‘oh, what’s that?’, and then…”

“What mistletoe?” you asked, only now looking up at the ceiling where familiar-looking leaves were tied with a string to the support beams under the ceiling and above the doors. “Why is there mistletoe hanging?” you asked skeptically. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party.”

“I think they haven’t taken it down since last week.” Angie shrugged, but then grinned at you. “Don’t you think it’s a sign, though? So many places to kiss your crush under~...”

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” she mocked in a low voice. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know, babe,” you whined, and sighed heavily again. “You know what, maybe I should just forget it. Let’s go have fun, dance, and later throw up from all the food and…”

Suddenly, Angie interrupted you with a high noise in her throat. You gave her a questioning look and she looked at you with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes.

“He’s coming here.”

“What?!” You automatically turned around before Angie hissed for you not to look, and sure enough, there was Joel Miller, making his way through the crowd with his eyes locked on you. “Oh my god,” you breathed, clutching at your friend’s hand. “He must’ve seen us talking. What do I do?”

“You sit there and look smoking hot, and let him flirt with you,” she answered with confidence you didn’t feel. “And maybe you won’t even need to ask for the kiss, maybe he’ll do it for–” Her eyes darted above your shoulder. “Oh, hey, Miller.”

You gulped and took a deep breath before turning around and– oh, God, he looked even better up close.

Angie kicked you lightly under the table when you didn’t say anything, and you cleared your throat, smiling up at the man you were so crazy about. “Uhm, hi, Jo– Mr Miller.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, sugar?” He had kind of a boyish smile on his face that made him look younger and even more handsome, which in turn made your stomach fill with warmth. He sat down next to you, and his eyes scanned you down and back up, slowly, lingering on your legs and curves just for a second longer. “You look lovely.” He then glanced at Angie, sending her a nod. “Both of you.”

“Really?” you beamed, and Angie kicked your ankle again, making you wince. “Uhm, thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.”

A trace of smirk ran across his face, but it was gone before you could make sure it was really there in the first place.

“Are you enjoyin’ the party?” he asked casually, hiding one hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Your eyes followed his movement before you caught yourself.

“Y-yeah, it’s nice. A little too loud for me, but really nice.”

“Maybe you wanna step outside for a bit, then?” Joel nodded in the direction of the deck in the back, and your heart started beating faster.

Did he want to be alone with you? Or was just being polite and preferred to talk somewhere quieter, and you were getting your hopes up unnecessarily? You hoped it was the first, that he genuinely enjoyed chatting with you as much as you did with him – but you never knew with a man like Joel Miller. He was an enigma, sometimes serious and so stoic that you couldn’t for the world figure out what was going on in his head, and other times charming and teasing, making you weak in the knees when he was looking at you with that fiery glint in his eyes…

“Sugar?” Joel asked, lifting his eyebrows with what seemed to be amusement, and you cursed yourself mentally for spacing out.

“Sorry, I… Yes, let’s– sure, let’s go.”

All of you stood up and you looked over your shoulder at Angie with a panicked face, but instead of reassuring you, she sent you a quick, sly grin.

“You two go ahead,” she chirped. “I’m gonna go look for my date.”

“Angie–” you whispered, giving her a look, but the woman just winked and turned around, disappearing into the crowd of dancing people. “Angie!”

Before you could go after her, you felt a big, warm hand on the small of your back, and your entire body tensed. Joel leaned over to your ear, whispering in a low voice.

“Shall we?”

“Yeah,” you squealed, so quietly he probably didn’t hear it over the loud music. “Sure.”

Your legs moved on their own, going where he guided you. The walk to the terrace in the back lasted no longer than fifteen seconds, but it felt like hours had passed. You were very aware of the light pressure of his fingertips on your back, with only one layer of material separating your skin from his, and the nerves of feeling him so close behind you were making you walk stiffly and oddly – though, miraculously, he didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t like how loud the music is, either,” Joel said after you two exited the main room, and he closed the door. Then he glanced at you again, his eyes flicking to your bare legs just for a second longer. “Are you cold?”

“No,” you answered truthfully. Not only was it nice to feel the cool air after sitting in a stuffy room with a crowd of people for so long, but also you still felt warm from Joel’s closeness. “I’m alright.” Joel nodded absentmindedly, and you squinted. “Did you want to talk about something or…”

“Nah, just wanted to escape for a minute.” He rubbed his beard and shrugged, but there was tightness to his body language. “Not much to do in there except for drinkin’.”

“And dancing,” you cut in.

Joel glanced at you, and the lazy smirk returned onto his features.

“You like to dance, sweet girl?” he asked, and you felt your face growing hot when you heard his tone. Low, drawling and oh, so delicious.

“If the party is good, yes, I guess so.” Then you remembered what Angie suggested earlier, and you took a shaky breath, mustering all the courage you had in you. “We… if you want, we could dance a little later, if they play something nice…?”

But the hot nerves in your chest turned to cold disappointment when Joel started to shake his head with a chuckle. “Nah, darlin’. Sorry, I don’t… I’m no dancer.”

“Noone here is,” you retorted, a bit hurt by how quick his rejection was. “It’s just for fun.”

“I know better ways to have fun than t’make an idiot of myself in front of bunch of people.”

“Like what?”

Of course, you just had to ask.

Joel smirked, as if he was just waiting for it, and took a step forward, forcing you to take one backwards. His brown eyes bored into yours, making you weak in your knees, and you promptly turned your gaze away, not able to withstand the tension in the air. With a cough, you walked up to the wooden railing, pretending that you weren’t feeling sheepish at all.

“For one, talkin’ here with you is fun enough for me.”

You forced yourself to look at Joel when you heard it, just to see if he’s joking, but the man appeared genuine. He leaned against the rails, his hand right next to your shoulder, and you couldn’t get rid of the thought of how easy it’d be for him to cage you in this spot with his strong arms, how he’d make your entire body tremble…

But you weren’t quite sure yet if he was being sweet or just tried to mess with you, so you decided that a teasing response would be the best course of action.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged lightly. “I’d still like to find someone to dance with tonight.”

At that, Joel’s hand gripped the railing tighter and his body stiffened. You had to hide a triumphant smirk on your face, pleased that you managed to throw him off his game – whatever it was that he was playing.

“One of your friends?” In your peripheral vision you saw him lifting his eyebrows with the faintest of scowls. “Or one of those shady guys sittin’ at the bar, staring at pretty girls like you? ’Cause they’re no good for you, darlin’.”

“Oh, really?” you scoffed and lifted your chin, feeling touched that Joel was acting so protective – (and maybe even… jealous?) – about what you said. “You were the one that didn’t want to dance. What do you know about what’s good for me, anyway?”

“Those guys won’t treat you right. They just want a girl to spend the night with, and you deserve better than that.”

He was right, of course, but it didn’t mean you were going to openly give him his due. You made an acknowledging noise, not really sure what to say, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a quiet, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who’d take real good care of you, darlin’. Not some drunk out of their ass idiot.”

“Are you drunk, Mr Miller?” you asked, not looking at him in fear he’ll see how red his words made you, though you could still see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“No.”

“You act like you are.”

“C’mon, sugar, look at me.” He took your chin between his fingers and your body went rigid. His warm gaze met yours for just a second, and he tilted his head forward a little. “Do I look drunk?”

“A little.” You turned your head away, but he tsked and guided your chin back.

“In the eyes, darlin’.” You gulped at his words, and his dark, brown irises twinkled in the fairy lights dangling from the roof and walls. “And call me Joel, please.”

His chest was almost touching yours, and you felt the wooden railing digging into your lower back, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Joel was so close, and your breath hitched in your throat when you got enveloped in his earthy smell, with a tinge of bonfire and… was that cologne? For some reason the discovery that he used cologne for tonight made your heart flutter.

But as much as you loved every second of being so close to him, you remembered that you weren’t alone on the terrace. There was a pair of people talking – well, now kissing, judging by the sound of it – and your eyes darted to the side to see if they were looking at you both. “Come on, there are people here. It’s not…”

The man clicked his tongue in disapproval and moved slightly closer, now practically pinning you against the railing with his body, and you squealed unwillingly when he, once again, made you look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

And God, if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen or heard. It was unfair how much power his gaze and tone wielded over you.

“Okay,” you managed to whimper, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards, creating that adorable dimple in his cheek.

“And my name, sugar.”

You didn't know why you were complying so easily, but something about the softness and tenderness in his voice made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you, of that you were absolutely sure.

“Okay, Joel.”

His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip with the softest of touches, making your legs almost turn to jelly. It made you want to say his name again, though in a much more needy tone.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel murmured with a smirk, never looking away.

Lord, have mercy.

You were so grateful for the wooden rails behind your back, because you were sure you’d collapse any second now if he kept looking at you like that.

“I… Joel…”

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he murmured without taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Your brain was mush at this point, but even if you could formulate any words, you doubt you’d ask him to step away. So you settled on shaking your head slightly, to which Joel nodded. “Lemme know immediately if it changes, darlin’.”

How could you be so blind? All you could think about was that Angie was right – there was no way Joel Miller wasn’t flirting with you. Maybe he even liked you. Maybe – just maybe – he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

“Didn’t you wanna… get back to the party?”

You didn’t make any move to get away yourself, however, not wanting him to drop the arm with which he was holding your chin. The material of his shirt was bulging over the lines of his biceps, and it felt really nice to stand so close to him.

“I’m in no rush.” Joel’s voice dipped, and your insides tightened. “You?”

“No, but–”

“Here you are, you ol’ fucker!”

Joel took a step back, and you both turned to see his younger brother walking clumsily through the door with a big, drunken grin on his face. You cleared your throat, still breathless and blushed, but both Millers didn’t pay you any mind anymore.

“Tommy.” Joel’s face was like made out of stone, but his eyes were betraying how irritated he was with the interruption.

“You thought you’d manage to get away, ya old dog?” Tommy hooked an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and finally looked at you to send you a wink. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta borrow ‘im for a second. He has a date to get to.”

It took you a couple of seconds to register that yes, you heard him right. A heavy veil of hurt and disbelief slowly fell down on you, and your eyes started to prickle as you looked from Tommy to Joel.

“A date?”

He had a date. Why then did he talk and act this way with you, making you feel like you ever had a chance with him?

“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Tommy said to Joel instead of answering you, and tugged the other man back inside, but Joel didn’t move. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get lucky tonight!”

That you couldn’t listen to.

Trying to hide how painful his words were to you, you ducked your head and tried to slip past the brothers, desperate to get out of here. A hand – which felt so achingly familiar now – shot out and grabbed your elbow before you could escape. You lifted your tearful eyes only to meet Joel’s sorrowful ones.

“Darlin’, wait. It’s not…”

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, tearing your gaze away. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, anyway.”

Joel looked like he wanted to say something else, but you couldn’t bear being in his and Tommy’s presence any longer. You slipped out of his grasp, quickly coming back inside and navigating your way to the bathrooms.

He had a date for tonight. And still he flirted with you and touched you so lovingly, and… and almost…

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think you ever had a chance.

You dashed into the bathroom and quickly opened the first free stall you saw, then shut it behind you. There you just slumped against the wall and wrapped your arms around yourself, giving in to the flow of your tears, but trying not to make a sound.

You felt so foolish for letting yourself fall under Joel Miller’s spell, for ignoring that he obviously couldn’t be interested in someone like you.

He probably saw you as a dumb child. No wonder he’d prefer someone else, probably a woman closer to his own age.

But why did he have to be so cruel, to lead you on and hint that…

No, you realized. It was your own damn fault for letting your heart justify his every action towards you.

Almost ten minutes must’ve passed before you got a grip on yourself and decided to go find Angie. You needed to talk to someone, preferably distract yourself from the unpleasant situation you had to experience, and maybe try to salvage the evening somehow. With that in mind you took a couple of breaths, wiped your eyes and then hesitantly exited the bathroom.

You only managed to take a couple of steps, however, before your eyes were drawn to a familiar and beautiful side profile. You wished you didn’t know his face so well, because then you wouldn’t see Joel whispering something to a stunning woman you didn’t know at the far end of the room. She was hanging off his arm, bright eyes and a million-dollars smile directed solely at him. Joel appeared to be looking around, but a few seconds later he put his hand on the small of the woman’s back – just as he did earlier with you – and started walking. Neither of them looked your way before exiting through the front door and leaving the party.

As well as a gaping hole in your heart.

*****

A few minutes later you managed to find Angie. You were a mess at this point, barely able to stop yourself from sobbing. It was truly pathetic.

“I don’t know her name. But I saw them leaving, and she was hanging off his arm and–” you choked on your words and gave a humorless laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m so sorry, hon.” Angie looked at you sadly. “We can ditch the party if you want. Go to my place and watch some movies,” she suggested gently, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no. I’m fine, really, I… I think I'll just go home. But you should stay with your girlfriend.” Angie looked like she was about to protest, but you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m okay. I’m just gonna go straight back home and lock myself inside with a bowl of ice-cream. Or go to sleep.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“I… I think I need to.” You gave her a weak, sad smile, and stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? You have fun, I don’t want to ruin your night, too.”

“You’re not ruining anythi–”

“I mean… this. All of this stuff with,” you swallowed heavily, “him.”

Angie still seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded after a while. “Alright. But come and get me if you feel worse.”

“I promise. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded, then went towards the side exit and out into the snowy night without looking back. You didn’t want to stay here and watch as all those happy couples share sweet kisses at midnight, thus reminding you of your heartbreak.

This time you had your coat on, but it was far too thin for this kind of weather. You wrapped it tighter around yourself and hid your hands in the pockets, starting to make your way home. It was a bit far from the main square, but you needed to get away from the music and laughter of the partygoers as quickly as possible.

Alas, you only managed to walk one street away when out of nowhere, a big hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait.”

You turned around and took a step backwards at the same time, freeing your arm with a strong tug. The words full of anger were ready to spill out of your mouth, but that was until you saw who stood in front of you with a painful expression.

The last person you expected to see here.

“Joel?” You whispered surprisedly and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. Not that strange woman you saw him with, at least. “What are you doing here?”

“I was lookin’ for you,” he rasped between gasps, like he ran all the way here. “You weren’t at the party.”

“Why were you… What are you doing here?” you repeated more coldly, the sight of him only making your fresh heartache so much more noticeable. “I thought you left.”

“M’so sorry.” Joel’s beautiful dark eyes were full of sadness and weariness. “I would have never left you if I could help it, darlin’.”

He took half a step forward and lifted his hand slightly to graze yours with his icy-cold fingertips. You weren’t wearing any gloves either, so his touch sent a jolt up your arm. You looked down at it, but gently moved your hand away. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you have a… date?”

“No.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. You avoided his eyes and instead watched as snowflakes landed and melted in his hair. “No, it was Tommy… You saw how drunk he was, and he wanted to set me up, insisted on talking to that girl, but I…”

“You should get back to her, then,” you said dryly, really not having strength to even hide how hurtful his mere presence was. You went past him, hiding your neck in your coat. “I don’t want to keep you from–”

“Darlin’, wait.” Joel grabbed your arm again, though still gently and without any force. “Listen, she was nice, but I told her that I can’t get involved in anythin’, because I…” He faltered slightly when you looked him in the eyes, for the first time since your talk on the terrace. “There is… it’s– fuck.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “There is someone else,” he finally spoke, his voice almost trembling, and looked at you again, “that I’m madly in love with. And it’s you.”

Through the open door to the party someone shouted what sounded like the time, but it was all happening in the background of your mind. All you could focus on was Joel, standing so close to you and looking almost scared as he waited for your reaction.

Cold crept up your limbs and up to your cheeks while you tried to digest what the hell you just heard, but as if held by the invisible force of his gaze, you couldn’t move an inch.

“...what?”

“I… really, really like you,” Joel whispered, his dark and sad eyes drilling into your unbelieving ones. “I went to this party just to see you, darlin’. And I’d never chose to spend the evenin’ with anyone else but you. I’m so sorry I left you like that and…”

He then gulped and very slowly lifted his hand to your face, not fully cupping your cheek but hovering just above it. He searched your eyes, but when you didn’t back away, he touched your skin carefully, and an involuntary sigh escaped you as your eyes fluttered closed.

You never thought one could be touched with such care and fondness. No one has ever treated you like that before, like you were made of the most precious glass.

“You can tell me to fuck off,” Joel whispered, and you opened your eyes to find his face a little closer than before. “I just thought that maybe… if you would maybe, too…”

He was getting flustered again, and it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. It must’ve been close to midnight now, because you noticed that the music stopped and the racket inside the building was at its peak, though it was hard to distinguish the words people were shouting when your heartbeat was almost deafening in your ears.

“But I saw you leaving with that woman.” You had to make sure you were on the same page with him before you did something idiotic. Again. “You aren’t…?”

“No,” Joel breathed a quiet chuckle and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while his eyes danced across your face. “It’s only ever been you, darlin’.”

Then he must’ve heard something – his head turned to the side to look at where the party was still going on, before his eyes returned to you, and you felt his thumb swiping your cheek in an oh, so tender manner.

“May I?” he asked in a whisper, so close that his breath skimmed your parted lips. You hoped he was asking about what you thought, but this time wasn’t brave enough to ask and clarify.

So you just nodded.

And Joel leaned in, without any hurry, and kissed you.

It was fitting, you supposed, that only a couple of seconds later the clock chimed midnight, and shrieks of laughter and cheers filled the air while the people still present at the party celebrated loudly. You couldn’t care less, however, because in that moment, your entire world was Joel. His – still cold – hand caressed your scorching cheek, and the other found its place on your hip. The smell of him, the warmth with which his body radiated, and the feeling of his lips, rougher in touch than you’ve imagined, but still soft in movement – all of it together was almost overwhelming.

You parted after a while with blissful sighs, though didn’t move away – Joel still held you close, his forehead pressed to yours, and eyes shut tightly, as if he was in pain. He took a trembling breath when you touched his jaw with your icy fingers.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded in a murmur, taking you aback. “Sugar, if you don’t… Please, tell me to stop.”

You shook your head and held onto him tighter before he even finished.

“Please, don’t stop.”

Your lips clashed again, tongues meeting and dancing together, and it was the closest you’ve ever felt to any type of heaven in this cruel, forsaken world. Joel pulled you flush against him and kissed you again, more forcefully this time, tangling his fingers in your hair. You let out an involuntary moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound immediately, not giving you a split second of respite.

“I wanted to do it a year ago,” Joel muttered between the kisses, before he took your face in his hands to look you in the eyes properly. He smiled, that same adorable and boyish smile, when he saw how breathless and flushed you were. “Wanted to kiss you so much, sugar, but,” he obviously fought back a laugh at this point, his eyes crinkling, “you got wasted and puked your guts out just before midnight.”

“Oh my god.” You didn’t know he saw it, particularly the moment when all the alcohol you consumed a year ago refused to stay in your stomach. “I wasn’t– I don’t usually… I got drunk ‘cause I saw Sheryll kissing you on the cheek,” you admitted with embarrassment, feeling your skin growing even hotter. “I thought you and her were together at that point…”

“But why did you get drunk because of it, sweet girl?” Joel mused, brushing his nose against yours and obviously teasing you. You snorted and shook your head.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You playfully pushed him away lightly, but he tightened his grip around you, not letting you step away.

“You’re an asshole sometimes,” you whispered, making Joel chuckle. “Fine. I really wanted to kiss you, too. Happy?”

He smiled and kissed you again, softly and passionately this time, cradling your cheek in his palm.

“Very,” he whispered against your lips and dragged his nose up to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Very much, baby.”

Your heart fluttered with joy at his affectionate tone. Joel pulled away, his hands leaving your body to cover your own, situated on his jaw and arm.

“Now, what do you say we head back inside?” he asked with a disarming smile, brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. “And maybe you’ll let me ask you for a dance?”

You didn’t give an answer, but the joyous kiss you pressed to his lips – which, with your enthusiasm, almost made both of you topple over into the snow – spoke for itself.

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller fluff

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perseephoneee · 5 months

Note

PLEASE do something super fluffy with kol mikealson

i love ur work sm!!

babe you're making my day. hope this is something akin to what you wanted.

"you're red." "shut up." "like actually vermillion." (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: kissing?? also hatred towards bed and breakfasts

a/n: i forgot how much i love writing for kol. sorry for the large writing break...hope this makes up for it?

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You hate Kol Mikaelson.

He’s cocky, impulsive, and constantly getting you into danger that you would never find for yourself. He also relentlessly flirts with you until you’re warm and deeply frustrated. He’s complicated enough that you wish he wasn’t a part of your life so it could resume a sense of normalcy.

Getting caught up in Mikaelson drama was never your plan. You just happened to make the mistake of working as a bartender at Russo’s—where they frequented. Klaus took a liking to you, and the rest is history. Being a human that’s friends with vampires is like poking a bear; not recommended nor convenient.

This recent conflict was forgettable but proved to be a disruption to your life. One of them annoyed someone, and that someone wanted revenge, and now apparently you were in danger, and so on and so forth. You have repeatedly debated sending an invoice to the Mikaelson compound for restitution. You don’t think Klaus would find it very funny.

You almost forgot about your life being in danger until you were forced to go on the run with the youngest brother, Kol. Kol, who insisted on driving you nuts. You kept trying to tune him out in the car, listening to the radio or focusing on the trees speeding past your window. Still, he was relentless and wouldn’t leave you alone for a minute. Plus, he was a horribly reckless driver, and you were gripping the door so tightly that you might hurt a muscle any minute.

“I’ve lived for a very long time, but I’ve never visited Fes,” Kol said, one hand on the wheel as the other tapped on the door. You barely spared him a glance. “Would you visit Fes?”

“Not even sure what Fes is,” you answered through gritted teeth, suppressing a yelp as Kol took a turn obnoxiously fast.

“City in Morocco considered its cultural capital.”

“You sound like a Google search,” you scoffed, sparing him half a glance. Long enough of a glance for Kol to give you a toothy grin, his canines glinting in the sunlight.

“I like knowing things,” he states, squinting at you. “I don’t know much about you. Tell me something.”

“No.”

“Please?” he begged, every bit a kid enjoying picking on the new kid on the playground. You fixed him with a dead stare.

“I hate your driving.” That caused him to laugh, which made him throw his head back and speed up even more. You clutched the handle and clenched your teeth till you felt your whole body would seize up. Kol eventually took pity on you and slowed down. It was enough for you to relax…slightly. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere. Anywhere. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Brilliant. I’m going to die out here,” you sighed, sinking deeper into the leather seat.

“Nonsense. Nik would dagger me if I let that happen, and I’m very tired of being daggered.”

“Not because you care about me or want me to live?” you jested, quirking a brow at him.

“Now, why would I care about you at all?”

You pretended it didn’t sting, even though it felt impossible for you to care about Kol. Still, hearing him say it felt a bit like a slap in the face. You just turned more out the window, ignoring him. You didn’t notice the sharp look he sent you, as if he regretted what he said.

Instead, you notice a sign advertising a Black Bear Diner. You perk up immediately, tapping the window and looking back at Kol.

“There. Stop there.”

“That piece of garbage?”

“Yes! Stop the car!” you shouted, regretting your words when Kol slammed on the brakes. “Stop the car slowly, you asswipe.”

“You should’ve clarified that,” he smirked. You jumped out of the car, ran towards the restaurant, and experienced euphoria when the smell of waffles and fresh coffee hit your senses. Kol walked up slowly, hands in his pockets. The sun was obnoxious out here, but there were enough trees in the area to not make it feel like a desert. You could even see the mountain in the background in all its snowcapped glory.

The inside of the diner was a welcome breeze on your damp skin. It wasn’t very crowded, and you got seated immediately as you happily flipped through your plastic menu. Kol looked slightly uncomfortable sitting in the diner, but you ignored him. You were getting pretty good at ignoring him.

“I used to go here all the time with my family,” you said, flipping to the drinks page of your menu. “Not this exact location…but this chain. I went to it when I first moved to my hometown.”

“It’s barely gourmet.”

“Fuck gourmet, I want comfort. I want to feel like home,” you laughed, closing your menu. “Don’t you want that?”

“Home?” Kol inquired. “Not sure what that is anymore.”

Your lips turned down in a frown, but you offered nothing else. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, and you wouldn’t force him. The waiter came over to take your orders, and you happily ordered a black coffee, orange juice, and a waffle platter. After they left, you started packing your bag with the tiny jams and creamers they had out on the table. Kol just looked at you in disdain.

“You are pathetic.”

“Rent is expensive, groceries are expensive, give me a break,” you snorted, taking a few sugar packets for good measure before you stopped looting. Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his seat. His leg bounced from anxiety, and his fingers tapped the table in a paradiddle pattern, just left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right over and over again. He looked shockingly young, like the boy before he turned, and not the man he paraded as. For a split second, you could see yourself having a crush on him in high school if he was one of your peers. You erased that thought as soon as it came. “Can I ask a question?” you leaned forward on the table, arms folded in front of you. “Why are you guys always protecting me? I’m definitely a liability.”

“I think my brother just wants to sleep with you,” Kol sighed. You snorted, biting your bottom lip to subvert your laughter. Honestly…you have managed to weasel your way into our family—like a parasite.”

“Aw, your words are so kind,” you rolled your eyes, kicking Kol under the table. He just kicked you right back, wearing a smirk. “And I would never sleep with your brother.”

“Why’s that?” Kol questioned, crossing his arms.

“His face is weird,” you answered. Kol put his head in his hands in laughter, and you joined him a second later. You weren’t sure if that was the reason, but it was the first thing that came to mind, and you didn’t think to change it. Plus, it made Kol laugh, which kind of made you happy. The arrival of your waffles made you even happier.

“Bloody hell, you’re going to eat all of that?” Kol looked shocked, eyes flicking between you and your waffles. He had ordered a much smaller plate than yours. Yours likely could’ve been a party platter.

“Yes, and I will do it with pride.”

You did eat all of it, and enjoyed Kol’s expression the whole time. He looked so disturbed it made up for it. You also drank all your coffee, orange juice, and free water refills. Your plan was to eat enough to enter hibernation. You even think Kol was a little impressed at some point. Kol asked the waiter for the nearest hotel, and they pointed you to a place three miles down the road that would likely have openings. By the time you left the diner, it was starting to get cold as the sun was setting. You could hear crickets; you probably would’ve gotten fireflies if you were more south. Kol drove surprisingly slow towards the hotel, which you attributed to his worry that going fast would cause you to throw up your entire waffle extravaganza. He slowed down even more when you came up to the “hotel”—which was actually just a bed and breakfast. An extremely cutesy bed and breakfast.

The inside of the building was somehow worse than the outside.

The outside had small-town charm. The inside was where doilies went to die.

Both you and Kol exchanged glances as he went up to ring the bell. You counted seven cat portraits before a portly woman came out with a cheeky smile. She wore a linen frock and a floral dress right out of the 1960s.

“Well, good evening,” she smiled. “What can I do for you?” She had a thick Minnesotan accent, and her smile made her eyes. Overall, she radiated friendliness.

“We’d like a room?” you inquired, leaning against the counter.

“Oh, you betcha! Lucky for you, I got the best suite in the house available. It’s perfect for you two lovebirds,” she chirped. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, uh, we’re not together…,” you coughed. You turned to look at Kol, who just shrugged his shoulders. Completely useless. “Do you have a double?”

“Unfortunately, all our doubles are booked for our birding convention. I might have a futon available to bring to your room?”

“Perfect,” Kol smiled, finally interjecting. “We’ll take that.”

“Splendid! Here are your keys, and I’ll have you sign in there.”

You brought your one bag with you up the stairs and to the right to a room at the end of the hall. The wallpaper was mocking you at every turn, a plethora of orchids and pinks staring at you, along with the eyes of fifty million felines. You were certain Dolores Umbridge was hiding somewhere amongst the foliage. The room was less pink but still reminiscent of something in a senior home. The bed was the nicest part: a large four-poster with mahogany bedposts. The wallpaper was sage color with pictures of ferns. The ensuite bathroom had a clawfoot tub and gold décor. A painting of a young boy eating ice cream was on the wall. You immediately took it off the wall and turned it around so you didn’t have to look at it all night.

“It’s a little…”

“Cozy?” Kol interjected, closing the door behind you two.

“I was going to say tight.”

“It is the lovebird suite, darling,” Kol whispered in your ear, a smirk in his voice. A shiver ran down your spine.

“I’ll take the futon.”

“I doubt you could fit a futon in here,” Kol scoffed. He was right. There was really only room for the bed and bedside tables. Whoever designed this room intended to spend a lot of time in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought. You tapped your foot in thought before eventually sighing in defeat.

“Just…don’t get too handsy,” you shrugged, glaring at the vampire’s ever-present smirk.

“Handsy? You must think me a rascal,” Kol cooed, stepping closer into your space. The room was tight, which meant you were backed against the wall. You felt like a rabbit being targeted by a fox, his mischievous grin and wandering eyes taking all of you in. Your eyes were drawn to how he licked his lips, and suddenly, your blood pressure spiked. Heat crawled up your neck, and you knew that Kol noticed. He always managed to notice.

“Knock it off, Mikaelson,” you hissed, tilting your head up defiantly.

“You’re actually red,” Kol chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“…Shut up,” you slapped his hand away, maneuvering your way from his grasp.

“Like actually vermillion,” he laughed, and you gave him an unsavory gesture as you escaped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Back against the door, you breathed out, groaning into your hands. You pushed off the door, getting ready for bed in an effort to put this night behind you. You cleaned up, brushed your teeth, and put on pajamas. In hot weather, you usually just wear a T-shirt and shorts to bed. Your t-shirt said, ‘I got lobotomized at Freddy Fazbear’s,’ something idiotic that you couldn’t even fully be ashamed of. When you exited, Kol was lying on top of the covers on his phone, having changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked up when you exited, snorting as he read the shirt. “You have an odd sense of humor.”

“It’s too evolved for you to understand,” you rolled your eyes, getting in on the other side of the bed and leaving space between the two of you. Kol smelled sweet, like vanilla, and it was slowly suffocating you. You both sat in silence for a second before Kol disrupted it.

“Y/N,”

“No.”

“Darling,” he purred, inching closer to you.

“What, Kol,” you turned to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“You like me,” he said. It was not a question, just something he exclaimed. You scoffed.

“I do not.”

“You do. It’s why you blush vermillion when I call you things like darling,” he smiled, propping himself up on his elbow as he lay on his side to stare at you.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“So, if I kissed you…you wouldn’t care,” Kol inquired, voice soft as he sat up slightly. You felt your heart skip a beat, and Kol’s mouth turned up slightly when he heard it. You knew you just proved his point, but you refused to concede.

“I wouldn’t care,” you whispered, holding his gaze.

“So, when I do this,” Kol leaned up, kissing your cheek, his lips burning your skin. He kissed right under your jaw, finally on your pulse point. “…it doesn’t matter?”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself. “It doesn’t matter,” you choke out, but all you’re doing is spurring Kol on. You’re a hare caught in his trap, and you can’t even find it in yourself to hate it. Kol sucks on your pulse point, nipping lightly and moving down your neck, one hand coming up to tilt your head more to the side for easier access. His touch was shockingly gentle as if he was giving you an out. Your will was thinning by the minute, though, and eventually, you grabbed his hand, causing him to stop.

“Darling—” he starts, but you cut him off by kissing his lips, soft but passionate. For once, you’ve taken him off guard, and a sense of pride spurs through you as you part, kissing the corner of his mouth and looking at him through thick lashes.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice breathy. “For you…” You’re not sure exactly what you’re asking, but you know there’s a line you’ve crossed that you can’t return from. Kol’s thumb brushes your cheek, so gentle from the reckless, hotheaded vampire you are acquainted with. A grin crosses his face.

“It means everything,” he smiles, kissing you again, fingers tangling in your hair. Your hands find his arms, sighing as he deepens the kiss. You’re on fire, every single part of you, and you’re sure that Kol can feel your racing heart and hot skin. You like kissing him, though, and you realize you like him a lot.

“Kol?” you breathe. “Don’t sleep on the futon.”

“For you? I would never,” he grins, kissing you again. You make sure to put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door for later.

…

Afterwards.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you up.

“I guess Nik won’t be able to sleep with you now.”

“Kol.”

“Because I’ll be the only one sleeping with you.”

“Go to sleep.”

There’s a shuffling of blankets as his arm wraps tighter around you, his breath hot on your neck.

“You’re going to be stuck with me forever,” he whispers.

You smile. “I’m okay with that.”

taglist:: @rafecameronswhore

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson fluff #the originals #vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #vampire diaries imagine #fan fiction #my writing

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americas1suiteheart · 10 months

Text

Better Off As Lovers

Patrick Stump x Reader

This was also posted on Ao3 if you prefer that platform, this whole text is the link. :)

[Summary; You and Patrick have been friends since middle school and have been going to tours with him and the band to watch their shows. At one of the shows, Patrick decides to play one unreleased song he just so happened to write for you to confess his feelings. (I dunno this is kinda the summary but I'm also dumb as shit and can't make a correct summary).

[Notes; I felt like writing a little something for him as I've been wanting to for a while now, and here it is! And honestly, guys, if I end up wring more Patrick x Reader fics they're all most likely to be song fics or fics based off of some of the music videos, sorry but man I'm a sucker for song fics.

[Warnings; Some cursing and some bickering back and forth between Pete and Y/n over stupid stuff. Really really cheesy and unrealistic ig. Also Y/n is kind of really fucking stupid as well, but for the sake of the fic.

[Word Count: 4,068 (This is literally the longest fic I've ever written oh my gods.)

<Playing- Bang The Doldrums by Fall Out Boy>

1:32 ────ㅇ────── 3:31

God, why are these tour bus seats so uncomfortable? You'd figure that because they were meant for people to sleep in, they would be more comfortable.

You get up and stretch, heading to the cupboard where the band keeps all of the snacks to look for your hidden stash in the back.

"Where the hell are they?" You say, muttering to yourself.

You continue to scrounge through the cabinet to try and find your two twin packs of Twinkies, only to give up and walk to where the boys were hanging out.

"Hey, did any of you guys eat my Twinkies?" You call out as you walk to where you can hear the boys talking; a curtain was the only thing acting as a door for the area.

Just as you open the curtain to the "room" (aka the six loft beds that were separated by just a curtain), you see Pete and Joe munching on your beloved creme-filled cakes.

"Are you kidding me?" You say, your mouth agape and eyebrows raised.

"I told you guys so."

The two boys look at each other and then at you, a twinge of fear apparent on their faces, the creme filling on the corners of their mouths, and the wrappers thrown onto the floor.

"You two so totally owe me two boxes of Twinkies, I mean it! One box from each of you two! How did you find them?! I hid them!" You flail your arms about towards the boys, the guilt becoming more apparent on Joe's face.

Pete and Joe shuffle in their spots, licking their fingers and corners of their mouths to get the creme off from their messy way of eating.

"Honestly, you're kinda bad at hiding stuff; it wasn't that hard to find them," Pete says with a shrug.

Patrick kicks his shin from where he was sitting from across, earning a hiss of pain and a dirty look from Peter.

"I'm gonna eat all of your fucking Blow-Pops." You say, leaving the sleeping area and heading back to the snack cupboard. You can hear Pete's shouts, telling you not to touch them.

Opening the cupboard, you immediately spot a party-size pack of Blow-Pops with a large piece of duct tape stuck on to the bag, big bold letters drawn with a black Sharpie reading 'PETE'S LOLLIPOPS!!! DON'T TOUCH!!!'

Pete really liked those things, and he would individually count them to keep track of how many he had, so that way, if someone decided to take one or two of them, he would know. Which is kind of insane of him now that you think about it. Actually, scratch that, Pete was insane—PERIOD!

You grab the bag and grab three handfuls of lollipops, shoving them into your hoodie pockets and putting the bag back into the cupboard.

"Give them back, Y/n!" Pete says, grabbing your shoulders just enough to keep you from moving.

"Hell no! Buy me back my Twinkies and then I might just give you all of them back." You say putting one hand into your pocket to take out a Blow-Pop.

"Those Twinkies were practically begging to be eaten by someone, man; come on, those were in there for days without being touched."

You unwrap the lollipop, pulling your hand up to pop it into your mouth, Pete's mouth falling agape as you do so.

"Was that one of the apple ones..."

You nod your head, taking it out of your mouth. "And I've still got more. And as I said, I'm not giving them back until you buy me back, my Twinkies,"

"God, fine! But promise not to eat anymore until we get to a gas station! Especially not the Apple ones!"

"Will do," You pop the Blow-Pop back into your mouth as he lets go of your shoulders, looking defeated as he walks back to the room all of the others were still in.

You smile to yourself, sitting back into the seat you were originally in.

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

You and the boys get out of the bus, heading into the gas station as the drivers fuel up. You immediately head for the drink section, looking for a can of Arizona tea.

What the hell man, where are they?

You continue to look for another minute or so until you finally give up, heading to the soda section where Patrick was.

You had somewhat of a crush on Patrick. You always have to be honest.

You went to high school with Patrick, so you've known him since sophomore year. You had a lot of classes with him too and often hung out with each other both inside and outside of school, making you closer to Patrick than you were to any of the other kids and considering him your best friend.

When he first started playing with Joe and Pete and officially being in a band with them, you started going over to practices with him, getting to know the two better, and when Andy joined the band, it was the same with him.

Now that you think about it, you have no clue how liking him could have been avoided. He's sweet and smart—a little awkward at times too, but nonetheless an incredible guy.

I mean, the whole reason why you started looking into learning some music technology was so that you could be with him more often. A lot of what you started doing was to get to hang out with him more often.

"Boo!" You say, grabbing Patrick's arm gently.

"N/n, there you are," Patrick says, turning around to look at you, holding out two cans of Arizona tea to you.

"What the hell, I just spent like, two minutes looking for these; where the heck did you find them?" You chuckle, taking one of the cans.

"I'll never tell.." Patrick chuckles, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Well, thank you Patrick. I appreciate your kind gesture very much."

Andy and Joe run by you and Patrick, with Pete doing the same shortly afterwards. Some screams and laughs came with that as well. You could see the cashier trying their best to make it through all the noise, with a look on their face that could only be explained as exhaustion and frustration, clearly not wanting to be at work.

You look at Patrick and sigh, knowing that you'll have to yell at the three once again as if they were children, regardless of the fact they were all older than you and Patrick.

You walk to the snack aisle, where you can see Joe and Andy crouching down, assumingly hiding from Pete for whatever reason, and walk up behind them. Andy had a bag of skittles in his hand and a sprite in the other, while Joe carried a twin pack of Twinkies—just as you asked him for—and a bag of chips and diet coke in his arms.

"What are we hiding from?" You whisper to the two, who jump slightly and look back in response.

"Pete," Andy replies quietly.

"Well, we've gotta go; you guys will have to finish this up some other time, preferably when we aren't in a public place."

You hear footsteps from behind and stand up, turning around to see Pete walking slowly, putting a finger up to his lips as to say "don't say anything," and you shake your head and mouth, "No."

"Come on guys, go check out we need to get back on the road," you say, turning back to Andy and Joe.

Pete groans and fully stands up, Andy and Joe doing the same.

"God, you're such a grump all the time, no fun," Pete says, walking up to the cashier.

Patrick comes up from behind you, putting his hand on your back. "Is everyone ready to go?"

You blush from the contact, nodding your head in response, and walk to the register where the boys were checking out.

"No, I paid the last time. It's Andy's turn to pay now, remember?" Pete argues. The cashier looked like he was about to snap; if it was a cartoon, steam would probably be coming out of his ears right now.

"I'll pay, fine dude, just chill out," Andy says, pulling out his wallet and handing the cashier his credit card.

The cashier puts their items into a plastic bag, and Andy grabs it and leaves with the other two.

You and Patrick walk to the register, putting your items down on the counter.

"Sorry about them by the way, they get rowdy sometimes," Patrick says, attempting to break the awkwardness by making small talk, leading it to get worse.

"Your total is $9.34," the cashier says with a deadpan look on his face.

The two of you pull out your cards and look at each other. "Let me pay for it, please; you had paid the last time, and it was almost 20 dollars," Patrick says with puppy eyes.

God, this guy always knows how to get his way with that look.

"Alright then, Pat. Thank you," You thank him, putting your card away.

Patrick pays and the cashier puts our stuff into a plastic bag, handing it to him, with him thanking the guy and telling him to have a good day.

You two walk back into the bus, and Patrick places the bag on the couch in the lounge.

"Do you want both of these in the mini fridge?" Patrick asks, taking one of the tea cans out of the bag.

"I'll have one now and save the other for later, if you can put one in though, that'd be awesome."

Patrick nods and puts one can and one of his sodas in the mini fridge plugged in next to the counter where the broken toaster sat. Now that you think about it, how long has that thing been broken? Why haven't any of us bothered to replace it?

You open one of the cans, walking into the bunk area, and sit on your bunk at the top, letting your feet dangle above the middle bunk.

"Y/n, here you go," Joe says, handing me two twin packs of Twinkies.

"Thanks, Joe. Here are your Blow-Pops back dickhead," you say, taking the wrapped cakes and taking all of the blow pops out of your pocket, handing them to Pete, who was sitting next to Joe.

"Jesus, dude, how many of my fucking Blow-Pops did you take?" Pete exclaims.

"A couple handfuls, I think," you reply, taking a drink of your tea.

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

"Alright guys, we've got a couple more songs to play; are you ready?" Pete shouts into his mic, earning cheers from throughout the crowd.

The boys continue playing a couple more songs.

The band had been playing for an hour and a half now, playing some of their newer songs from the newest album they were working on, those of which you had the pleasure of getting to listen to before they played them for others, as well as songs from Take This To Your Grave and From Under The Cork Tree. The crowd was singing the lyrics along with the band, enjoying all of it.

"This is the last song for tonight and is another one from the album that we're currently working on; this one me and Patrick worked on together is called Bang The Doldrums!" Pete says, wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead.

Patrick adjusts the strap of his guitar slightly, walking up to the mic. Him and Joe begin to play together, with the rest of the band joining in.

You listen to it for a bit, you hadn't recognised the name but you figured that they had probably changed it.

'I wrote a goodbye note in lipstick on your arm when you passed out,'

What the hell? I haven't heard this one yet.

'I couldn't bring myself to call, except to call it quits,'

This is great; why hadn't they shown me this one? They all sound amazing.

Patrick looks at me as he sings the next verse; his face tinted a slight red, maybe from how out of breath he was getting? God, he always looked so pretty like that.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You listen to the lyrics; why did he look at me like that in that exact verse? Maybe I'm just going crazy.

'Racing through the city, windows down, in the back of yellow-checkered cars,'

You continued to listen, enjoying the sound of the way they were playing.

Then once again, Patrick looks at you, looking less nervous and giving a slight smile as he sings the same verse.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You can feel your face rapidly becoming warm, oh?

You think for a bit, your mouth slightly agape as you stand still. You just hope what you think is happening and what he's implying is actually what it is. No, no way. You guys have just been friends since high school; there's no way.

'..in the back of yellow-checkered cars. You're wrong, are we all wrong?

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers!'

The song ends, and the band thanks the crowd before exiting the stage, allowing the stage technicians to begin striking and taking everything down.

You were still standing there as the crowd began to clear out. Shit, you should get to the boys. What do I do about how Patrick looked at me? What if I ask him about it and I'm totally wrong? Oh god, I'm screwed.

You begin to head to the door that lead to the backstage lounge, a security guard protecting it from letting anyone else in. The guard immediately notices you and lets you in.

You nervously walk to the same area that the boys were in, knocking on the door and hearing Joe shout, "Come in!"

You open the door and smile at the boys, who were sitting down, drinking water and using towels to dry themselves off.

Where's Pat?

"Hey guys! You sounded awesome tonight, what was with that last song though? I'd never heard it before." You greet, sitting down on one of the metal pull-out chairs across from everyone else.

"Thanks! We were going to show you Bang The Doldrums when we were first working on it, but about halfway through writing it Patrick had said something about waiting to play it at a gig instead, something about surprising you, I dunno," Pete says in response, taking a chug of his water bottle.

"Where is Patrick, by the way?" You ask, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

"I think he went to go and look for you actually; try ringing him or go and look for him; he's somewhere around here," Andy says.

"Shit really? I'll go try to find him now. Do you guys need anything that could be outside of this room?"

"Can you get us some more water? I'm still totally parched man," Pete asks, taking the towel he had on his shoulder to wipe his face off.

You nod and get up, leaving the room and closing the door to go and look for Patrick.

How on earth do you know where every place in this theater would be? This place is huge..

After searching around, you finally decide to go outside to check if he was in the tour bus by chance, only to see him sitting on a curb next to the door hidden from all of the different fans still exiting the venue.

"Pat? What're you doin' out here without a sweater on? It's freezing right now." You speak out, walking to where he was and sitting to the left of him.

"Oh, I went to look for you, and when I came out here, it was way cooler than it was in the theater, so I stayed out here to cool off a little bit," Patrick says, straightening his back and looking at you.

You nod in a way of understanding.

"How'd you like the show, though?" Patrick says, after a few seconds of silence.

"It was great! You guys never have a boring gig; everyone was loving it. What was the last song about though? I had never heard you guys play it up until just now." You say excitedly.

Patrick shifts slightly, looking away from you as his face flushes, now looking slightly embarrassed.

"I mean, it's not that it sounded bad or anything; it sounded great, but, during that chorus, you kept looking at me and, well," You say awkwardly, avoiding saying what you actually wanted to say.

It stayed silent for a couple of seconds before Patrick broke it.

"Sorry about that, I don't know if it made you weirded out or anything." Patrick says quietly.

"'Weirded out?' Pat I don't think you can really do anything to weird me out honestly. I didn't mind the contact all that much really." You lightly laugh, quietly mumbling the last part.

After saying that, you notice Patrick relax a bit, as if he were relieved and a little bit of a weight was off his shoulders.

"Y/n, can I tell you something?" Patrick says looking down at his shoes, his voice shaky.

"Yeah, of course," You reply, anxious for his words, yet somehow excited at the same time, wondering what they might be.

"This is going to sound so stupid, gosh. Um," Patrick chuckles, trying to calm his nerves as he twiddles his thumbs together, then proceeding with what he was saying. "I uh, would you hate me if I said that I really liked you, and not in a friend sort of way but um,"

You stay quiet for a few seconds, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. You're glad that it was dim in the little corner you two were sitting at so that he wouldn't see how red your face was turning.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anythi-" Patrick apologises before getting cut off by you.

"Patrick, don't be sorry," You say.

Patrick furrows his brows, creasing his forehead slightly, turning to look at you with confusion clear on his face.

"You have absolutely no idea how long I've waited for you to say something along the lines of that," You continue, grinning widely.

Patrick's face softened, a small smile appearing onto his face.

"So, does that mean that, well, you know," He says, looking at some cracks in the concrete, kicking at a pebble aside.

"Yeah, it means exactly that, Trick," You put your hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention back.

He looks back at you, smiling, his eyes that you looked into so often seemed to shine brighter underneath the dim light that the venue had over the door in the back that barely showed any light where you two were sitting.

Patrick brings a hand to your face, caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch, doing the same as he did.

His eyes glance at your lips for a millisecond, quickly returning to your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" Patrick asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod your head and lean in as he does, fluttering your eyes closed.

Patrick closes the gap between the both of you, his breath warm. The kiss is soft and sweet, not pressed too hard against each other but still with passion. Your lips seemed to fit perfectly with his, as if they were made specifically for the both of you and just the both of you alone.

You two pull away, pressing your foreheads together, panting ever so slightly from the lack of oxygen the both of you got during the kiss.

There was a peaceful silence for a few seconds, you swear that if it weren't for the muffled music and talking of the crowd outside Patrick would've been able to hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"God, if I knew this would be the outcome I would've told you years ago," Patrick chuckles lightly.

You smile, now realizing that this wasn't a dream and that your best friend since high school really confessed what you dreamed he would for years now. That you two really kissed and it wasn't some guy that you pretended to love in hopes of letting your feelings for Patrick disappear, and you were so glad that your mind and heart didn't let that happen.

"Oh my god finally, you two are idiots," Pete says, standing on the steps that lead to the door to get backstage.

You and Patrick quickly pull away from each other, your face burning up quickly.

"What the hell do you mean 'finally'?" You say, looking at Pete in confusion.

"We've been waiting for you two idiots to finally say something to each other for years now,"

You look at Pete for a few seconds, the cogs in your head turning.

"What?"

"I mean, you two were so painfully obvious, I'm honestly surprised that you two didn't figure it out way earlier man. Oh! Wait, wait, who confessed first? Was it you Y/n?"

Joe and Andy walk out and stand next to Pete.

"Did it finally happen? Who said it first, do you know?" Joe asks.

You and Patrick stare at each other, completely baffled.

"Was it Patrick?" Andy asks.

You flush even more, looking back at the three, then quickly looking away.

"It was totally Patrick, I called it! Come on pay up you two,"

Joe and Pete groan, taking out their wallets.

"Did you guys place bets on us?" Patrick asks, getting completely ignored by them.

"How much was it again, I don't remember it's been like 5 years now," Pete asks, looking at Andy.

"I think it was either ten or twenty,"

"Can we just say it was ten? I don't have a twenty or two tens on me and I don't want to go to the ATM tomorrow morning." Joe says, rummaging through his wallet.

"Sure that works," Pete and Joe both hand Andy one ten dollar bill each.

"What the hell, was Andy the only one that thought I would confess?" Patrick says. He seemed more upset at the fact that Pete and Joe put their bets on you confessing first rather than him.

"Come inside, it's freezing out here and we still haven't gotten our waters yet," Pete says, holding the door open for Andy and Joe.

You get up and gesture for Patrick to do the same, walking to the doorway.

"I fucking hate you and I hope you know that," You whisper to Pete jokingly, proceeding inside with Patrick and Pete behind you.

"Love you too N/n.." Pete says sarcastically, walking to the table where a load of plastic water bottles were, grabbing three of them.

"I hate him," You say, looking at Pete walk away and disappear into the room the three were in before.

"Me too sometimes but honestly if it weren't for him I probably would have never said anything," Patrick looks at you.

"What do you mean?"

"He's the one that organized the whole plan of playing Bang The Doldrums and not showing it to you until earlier during the show," Patrick answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Huh, he told me you said something about not showing me until now. You know, maybe I don't hate him as much anymore now."

Patrick laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to the table, grabbing two bottles for himself and you.

You smile to yourself, looking at your entangled hands then at him as he walked you to the room the boys were in.

You couldn't have been happier in all the years of your life up until now, and you wouldn't change or trade it for anything in the world. You were happy that you finally got to be like this with Patrick, the boy that was always so nice to everyone no matter what, the boy that knew exactly what to say if anyone was ever down, the boy that never left you no matter how difficult or bad it got.

This was the boy that you fell in love with since the moment you saw him, and he loved you back.

3:13 ─────────ㅇ─ 3:31

This took me forever to finish, and thank gods that I hyper fixated on FOB again (more than many times throughout the making of this fic,) because if not it wouldn't have ever gotten finished. I think I might end up writing more fics for Patrick, let me know if you would like for that to happen, send in some requests if you would like as well! Thank you for reading this seriously, regardless if your new or if you've been a follower since I started posting my fics on here, I appreciate you all for continuing to read my stuff because it makes me truly feel like I'm getting better and that people enjoy my stuff.

#patrick stump #patrick stumph #patrick stump x reader #patrick stump imagines #fob x reader #fall out boy #fall out boy x reader #fob #infinity on high #post hiatus fob #song fic #Y/n is kinda stupid #one of those oblivious towards one another types of fics i dunno man im a sucker for that shit #kinda cheesy but sweet ig #if you were looking for something more realistic then you wont ever get that with band fic i dont know what you expected man #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley

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hotgirlgraps · 1 year

Note

hook x female reader??? reader is ricky starks' cousin and hook falls madly in love with her by is super shy around her at first so he does little cute things like offer her some chips, let her touch his hair, etc

Loved writing this for you! I hope you love it!

Warnings: I mean he’s so shy and sweet and a total simp if that’s a warning?? angst between him and ricky over you 🤭

There was someone he hadn’t seen before following Ricky around. He caught sight of you once and kept stealing glances multiple times after that. He didn’t want to get caught staring so he kept his hood low over his eyes but he couldn’t help himself.

He felt a little nervous when Ricky spotted him leaning up against the wall pretending to look at something on his phone after he snatched his eyes away from you. Ricky headed towards him and you followed, stopping in front of him.

“Hey man” Ricky says as he throws his arm around your shoulders. “This is my cousin, Y/N. She just got signed.” Ricky states proudly. “Y/N, this is hook.”

You were already familiar with him but never saw him in person. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t intimidatingly attractive, what with his dark eyes that stared directly into yours and the smooth, easy smile that spread across his lips, exposing a dimple. He gave you a little wave, feeling awkward when he did it but he tried to avoid that.

“Hey” he grins.

“Hi” you beam back.

You stared back at each other for a couple seconds before Ricky unwrapped his arm from your shoulders. “Hooks been a good friend of mine for a while now. You’ll probably be seeing him around a lot when he’s not hibernating” he teased, earning hooks head to drop.

“Looking forward to that.” You softly spoke, and he felt his cheeks slightly burn when you did.

“Come on, I’m hungry” Ricky said, and that’s when hooks ears perked up. “I was about to go to catering too” he says as he pushes himself off the wall. Ricky waved him along and you tried not to show that you were feeling a little excited that he was tagging along.

He walked beside you, stuffing his phone in his pocket as his arm brushed yours thanks to how narrow the hallway was. “So you’re showing her around?” Hook asks Ricky.

“Yeah, introducing her to people and all that.” He says as you walk between the two of them. “She’s pretty much met everyone except for you. Figured you were lurking in the shadows like you always do when I couldn’t find you last week” he chuckled, making you do the same.

Now he wished he wouldn’t have been sitting in the locker room listening to music after his match last week. Maybe he would’ve met you sooner.

“Damn I hate that.” He says before he actually realized it. That was supposed to stay in his head. Thankfully it didn’t seem like Ricky or you caught it.

“You can go sit down. I’ll bring you something. Hook, you want anything?” Ricky asked as you entered catering.

“Nah man, I’m good.” He shakes his head as he sits down at the first table. You slowly take the seat across from him.

“So” you smile at him, and apparently that smile was contagious. “You’re nicer than you seem on tv”

His heart might have fluttered at the fact that you already knew who he was. He probably should’ve expected that but he didn’t.

“Yeah, I think I am, at least.” He chuckles as he runs his hands through his wild hair. “You uh, gonna be in the ring soon?” He was making conversation, aiming to learn a little more about you, but trying to be discreet about that.

“Next week” you nod, clearly proud to say that. “I’ll be making my debut and I’m so excited. But I’m also nervous.”

“I was too.” He tells you. “I remember calling my mom right before I had my first match and telling her how my heart felt like it was gonna explode. But when you get out there, it’s different. You kind of forget how nervous you were and snap into it. And when it’s over all you want is to do it again.”

You listened intently, taking note of the way he spoke and the eye contact he held the entire time, barely even blinking.

Just then Ricky came back with three slices of pizza, passing them out. “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry, I know you’re always hungry so shut up and eat.” He tells hook who drops his head to hide the laugh.

Ricky sits down next to you and takes a bite, chewing rather aggressively. “You don’t have to eat like that.” You glare when he smacks his lips. “Just eat like a normal person for once.”

Hook chuckled as he took a bite of his pizza.

“I went and got you pizza so quit complaining and eat.” Ricky says with a mouth full. You rolled your eyes but took a bite and felt thankful since you were so hungry.

“So” Ricky breaks the silence after a few moments. “Y/N tell you she’s about to have her first match next week?” He looks at hook who’s eyes keep trying to go back to you but he fights against it and nods. “Yeah, she did.”

“I feel sorry for anyone who steps in the ring with her man. You should see the shit she can do.”

That’s when hook did look back at you and caught the smile across your lips when he said, “I imagine so.”

A couple minutes later, after you were all finished eating, Ricky looked at the time. “Shit, my match is starting soon.” He says. “Come on, I’ll show you where the viewing room is. You can wait for me back there.”

You nodded but wished you didn’t have to leave. You stood up and offered hook a single wave and a smile before you left. He nodded his head and sat there after the seats in front of him were empty, wishing they weren’t.

You were sitting in the viewing room waiting for Ricky’s match to start when the door opened, and to your surprise, in came hook.

“Hey” you greeted him and slid over, making room on the couch.

“Hey” he nodded, sitting down with a little distance between you. “I didn’t have anywhere else to be. My match isn’t for another hour so, I figured I’d watch Ricky’s match too.”

You nodded back, dropping your head to keep from smiling too hard. He adjusted the collar of his hoodie and leaned back against the cushions, then you heard the sound of a bag crumpling and saw that he had pulled a bag of Doritos out of his hoodie pocket.

He ate three before he became self conscious about how loud his chewing sounded. He glanced over at you with your eyes on the screen but you were aware of his gaze.

“You want some chips?” He asked, extending the small bag.

You looked down at it, but shook your head. “Those are my favorite but I’m good. Thank you though.”

He wanted to finish them but he felt so awkward being the only one eating so he folded the bag and stuffed it back in his pocket.

He kept stealing glances of you, wanting to ask you so many questions but he couldn’t get the words out. You were watching the screen with a bunch of questions of your own on the tip of your tongue. You were just a little more confident than he was.

“So I’ve always wondered this, but do you style your hair like that or do you let it just do whatever?” You asked without looking at him. A dust of pink blushed his cheeks and he looked down when he felt it.

“Usually yeah, I just let it do what it wants.” He says as he runs his hands through it. He glanced back over to see you watching as he ran his hands through it and fluffed the roots.

“Can I touch it?” You chuckled, cause it sounded weird to ask. But you always wondered if it was soft and fluffy or if it was more like porcupine spikes.

He smirked and tilted his head towards you, silently giving you the answer.

“Soft” you said as you ran your hand over the ends.

“Did you think it wasn’t?”

“Sometimes it looks a little spiky.” You tell him, and he couldn’t help but to laugh at that.

Just then, Ricky came through the door and you both realized you didn’t even know the match had ended. He stopped as soon as he saw you and hook sitting next to each other and a strange look played on his face.

“Hey again, hook” he deadpanned.

Hook could tell that him being in the room alone with you wasn’t sitting right with Ricky and he wasn’t sure what to say about that. He nodded and stood up. Ricky eyed him for a minute before his eyes fell on you.

“I was gonna let you know I’m going to the weight room if you wanted to come.” But you shook your head.

“Actually I’d rather just stay in here and watch the rest of the show.” You only wanted to see hooks match but you weren’t going to tell Ricky that.

“Alright.” He eyed you. “Well, why don’t you come with me then?” He turned his attention to hook. There was an insinuation to that and it didn’t take a genius to tell it.

“I have a match soon or I would.”

“Your match isn’t for another forty-five minutes. C’mon.” He said, wrapping his arm around his shoulders, giving him no choice as he lead him out the room.

“So, you and my little cousin are getting along it looks like.” Ricky says as they enter the weight room. Hook nods slowly, picking up on the weird energy.

“Yeah, she’s cool.” He casually stated as he grabs a dumbbell and started curling his arm.

“Yeah” Ricky says as he sits on the weight bench, but doesn’t bother actually using it. Hook avoids his stern gaze and keeps his attention on his mini workout.

“She’s a nice girl.” Ricky says, holding his sights on hook. “She’s always been good as gold. She doesn’t need to ruin that now.”

Hook stilled, but didn’t look over at Ricky. “What does that mean?” He asked.

“It means she doesn’t need any distractions. I saw the way you were looking at her. I’m not stupid.”

He thought he’d been discreet but apparently not enough.

“I was just being nice.” He lied, and Ricky clearly didn’t buy it.

“The last thing she needs is to get all tangled up in a fling with anyone in this company. She needs to focus on her career. She’s just getting started and I’m not gonna let you get in the way of that.”

“Why would I do that?” His eyes finally meet Ricky’s. “I mean, I don’t even like her like that, but even if I did and I wanted to be with her, I would never hold her back from anything!”

“I know you, tyler.” Ricky’s use of hooks real name took him back a little bit. “You must’ve forgot that. I know how you are with women.”

“How am I?” Tyler dropped the dumbbell. “I wanna know too, cause I don’t see the issue with me and your cousin even if we did wanna start hanging out or something. What have I ever done wrong? I never disrespect women. I’ve never even been with one the whole time I’ve been in AEW so how would you know how I am with them?”

Ricky’s mouth clamped shut for a moment.

“Exactly.” Tyler stood up, about to leave the weight room before Ricky called after him.

“She’s my cousin, man. My baby cousin. I just don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“Who would hurt her?” Hook spun around. “I sure as hell wouldn’t. And besides, you think I don’t already know that? You think I don’t already know you would beat my ass if I ever hurt her? I get that, but you don’t even have to worry about it because like I told you, I don’t like her like that. I just wanna be her friend and no, I’m not gonna hurt her regardless.”

Ricky eyed hook for a moment after before he nodded stiffly. Hook nodded back as a silent understanding that the conversation was over.

From that point on youd noticed that he was a little more distant than he was that first day you met him. He didn’t talk much when you tried to make conversation with him, unlike before and it confused you.

You had your first match and Ricky was waiting in the gorilla for you when you came back, engulfing you in a hug. “That was awesome, you did fucking fantastic!” He proudly said.

“Thank you” you breathlessly say back. “I’m gonna go shower now, but I’ll meet you in catering.”

And he let you head towards the showers but as you were about to walk around the corner, hook appeared. He looked a little taken back when he saw you and you didn’t know if you should’ve tried to talk to him or not since he’d been giving you short replies so much lately but you did manage to smile at him.

“Congratulations” he says as he pulls one AirPod out of his ear. “I saw it from the viewing room. You did great.”

You smiled from ear to ear and that alone made his heart flutter in his chest. His hands were clammy like they had been getting around you and he wiped them over his green shorts.

“Thank you” you say. “And you were right. I wasn’t nervous when I actually got in the ring”

He nods back. “I told you”

There was a moment of silence and it was making him nervous himself. He felt himself shying away from your soft, wide eyes as he looked down at his feet.

“You have a match?” You asked when you looked at his taped up hands.

“Yeah, in a little bit.” He nods.

“Well I’ll be watching then.” You smile up at him. “Good luck.” You say before you brush past him, running your hand down his bicep.

“Thank you.” He muttered when you were already gone.

You caught him in catering the next week and took the seat across from him. He didn’t notice you because he was looking at his phone but when he felt the tip of your boot tap his under the table he looked up and his lips tipped up in a smile.

“Oh, hey” he said as he pulled the AirPod out of his ear.

“Hey” you smiled back. He looked around the room, no sign of Ricky.

“You’re alone for once” he chuckled.

“Yeah, Ricky has a match right now. I didn’t feel like sitting in the viewing room all by myself so, here I am”

He nodded back and locked his phone. “Feeling a little better about this whole thing yet?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m ready for my next match but it’s not until next week. I just wanna get back in the ring already, it’s so exciting.”

He has to cover his mouth with his fist to hide the smile on his face as he watches your eyes light up.

“What about you?” You asked. “Do you have a match tonight?”

“Nah, just waiting for my dad so we can head back to the hotel, really.”

“I get that.” You say as you look down at his knuckles tapping against the tables. “I have to wait for Ricky too.”

He nods back and you both fell silent again, until you broke it when you said, “where is the weight room at? I asked Ricky to show me but he never did. I wanna do a couple workouts. I can’t just sit around the arena for hours.” You chuckled.

“It’s uh, down the hall to the right, and then down that hall to the left, and then across that hall.”

You blinked twice at him and he smirked before he pushed the seat back. “I’ll show you” he said as he stood up.

You entered the weight room after taking a bunch of weird and confusing turns and he followed you over to the benches, where you grabbed a dumbbell and held it straight out in your hand.

“So” you said as you stared at his reflection in the mirror you were facing. “Ricky told me you and him talked about me.”

His face instantly flushed when he heard that, hands clamming up in his pocket.

“What did you talk about?”

He wasn’t sure if you already knew and we’re just getting him to tell you or if you really didn’t know. He shifted on his feet and ran his sweaty hand through his hair.

“Uh, nothing really. Just kind of talked. I don’t know.” He shrugged, feeling the nerves set in when your eyes caught his in the mirror.

“Well he’s under the impression that we need to stay away from each other for some reason. Told me I didn’t need to get too close to you, or something, I wasn’t really listening. Didn’t really care. I just told him I can do what I want and I like you, so if I want to be your friend, then I can be your friend.”

He was a little taken back to hear that, but he hid that fact.

“Is that what he was telling you? To stay away from me?” Your eyes stayed on his reflection as he dropped his head.

“Uh, yeah, kind of.”

You scoffed. “He’s always done that to me. He doesn’t want me around anyone. He thinks I’m gonna be influenced to do something bad, like I can’t make choices of my own.”

“He’s just looking out for you, but I get it. If I had a little cousin here, I’d probably feel the same way.” He picks his head up.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say before you set the dumbbell down and turn to face him. “Anything else you two talked about?”

That’s when it was clear to him that you knew the whole conversation. You just wanted him to tell you about it, and he was way too shy to have that kind of confidence even if he wanted to.

“Uh, I mean, kind of but-“ he had to look away from you, or he was gonna be tongue tied.

“Wanna know what him and I talked about?” You decided to ask, catching his attention. “We talked about how he thinks you look at me a certain way and I do the same thing with you. And how he doesn’t think you and I should even be friends but, you know what I told him?”

He swallowed thickly, “what?”

“I told him that if you wanted me, I’d say yes.”

He was astonished and absolutely speechless. His eyes were wide as he stared back at you, so many words rolling around in his brain but nothing came out.

“So, I’m just putting that out there for you.” You smirked as you reached down and grabbed the dumbbell again.

It took him a minute to regain his composure for him to realize the ball was in his court and he was being presented with something that’s been running through his mind for a while now.

Ricky, probably not too happy, but he didn’t think about that when he walked up to you and grabbed the dumbbell from your hand, setting it down on the bench.

His heart was hammering but it was sure when you smiled up at him. His clammy hand grabbed your soft one ever so gently before he tilted his head to the side slightly and leaned in a little closer.

“You really mean that?” His voice was barely above a raspy whisper, and you nodded simply before you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “I do.” You whisper back before he placed a tender, slow kiss to your lips.

“Your cousin might kill me later.” He smirked against you, making you chuckle.

“Not a chance” you whispered back, pulling him closer against you.

#hook aew #hook #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #tyler senerchia #hook nation rise #send hook

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hapan-in-exile · 2 months

Text

WIP Wednesday - Tales from the Dark Garden

New Mandalorian x Reader one shot from me

Hey there 👋 I’ve been traveling a lot lately and I won't be back home for a while yet…but, I kinda can’t believe how much I have missed writing and spending time with my characters. Made me realize how deeply I appreciate this creative outlet!! Thank you Tumblr

While I'm at the airport, I thought I'd post something in the works since I haven't been active in a few weeks. For folks who are reading my serialized Mando fic, don't worry—I did not abandon it!

The last installment I wrote for Hapan in Exile was all smut. It was also my most popular post! Give the people what they want? And apparently, now I can’t get enough of writing erotica. Sooooo…

I’m working on a one-shot set in the same universe as my ongoing series. A sort of non-canon spinoff that's just smut.

No plot. No character development. Just sex. I'm making fanfics of my own fanfic, basically. Very meta!

Below is a snippet of the first installment. Hope you enjoy!

I should be back to posting regularly in Aug. If I can get some time to finish this up in coffee shops while traveling, I will! That honestly sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon 😌 ✨

Tales from the Dark Garden 18+

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says disinterestedly, sliding the pile of neatly stacked credits into his waiting palm. “Please extend my gratitude to Boss Set’ki for his generous and timely payment.”

You watch him tuck the metallic ingots into one of the leather pouches sewn to his belt—right between the buckle and a string of explosive charges. There’s a dull thunk when the butt of his rifle knocks against the table’s edge as he turns to leave.

It's quite the arsenal. The bounty hunter certainly cast an imposing figure.

It’s a miracle those shoulders made it through the hatch.

You’d heard rumors from the other girls at Dark Garden about the fearsome Mandalorian who visited Mistress Anassa. This just happened to be one of those delightful twists gifted by the universe, where the real thing exceeds expectations. He was terrifying. And sexy as hell.

That first moment when you’d opened the door to see him standing there in full plate Beskar was a shock to the senses that would have reduced a younger Thuli into a stream of inane babbling.

Good thing you had a lot of practice controlling your expression—the demands of professional decorum, after all. It would ruin your Mistress’s reputation if you started drooling over the customers.

The armor suited him. It accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, the strength in his forearms, and his powerfully muscular thighs. The belt slung low around his tapered waist, and the quilted canvas hinted at the taut abdominals concealed beneath.

All the adrenaline that surged through your body at the sight of his weaponry had immediately transformed into excitement, raw and primal.

This man made you feel…

Sweet gods, divine and merciful.

“Of course,” you smile, leaning forward to place your elbows over the polished tabletop so that your breasts rise enticingly. Lacing your fingers together, you gently rest your chin atop your knuckles. “I will happily deliver your compliments to my master.”

The Beskar gleamed in the candlelight despite an ashy layer of soot. From the state of him, he might have come straight from the lower levels where he’d tracked his quarry. Your eyes linger over the blood splattered across his helmet, sending a shiver of panic down your spine. What sort of violence had this man committed mere hours ago?

Arousal surges within you, fear and wanting intertwined.

The gore and grime are a stark contrast to the lush surroundings. Draped in silk tapestries, with thick woolen rugs and brocade pillows, your shuttle interior was designed to be a sanctuary from the vulgar world outside.

But you suspect the Mandalorian wrapped brutality around him as tightly as the cloak hanging from his neck. It would take a woman of considerable charm to remove either.

Which is why Anassa chose you.

“It is my honor to serve, Master Set’ki,” you reply, rising artfully from your chair and gesturing toward the lounge where you’ve laid out a modest tea service. “And my duty to please.”

The Mandalorian pauses midstep on his way to the door.

“Excuse me?” he asks, curiosity peaked.

Shrugging out of your robe, the silken fabric pools at your feet. You kneel onto the plush carpet before pulling back, sitting on your heels, and reaching for the enameled pot. “My master thought you would enjoy the companionship. A chance to indulge in softer luxuries before you return to the Outer Rim.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet gives away nothing, but you can feel his eyes tracing over you.

Looking up at him through dark lashes, you explain, “The use of this ship—and myself—are yours for the night.”

Despite the layers of cloth and metal, when he folds his arms across his chest, you see the muscles in his back ripple. He looked powerfully, almost aggressively masculine. Like someone who took what he wanted.

And right now, he’s imagining taking you.

The fear is still there, but by now, it had sharpened to anticipation so intense that it ached.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says firmly. Yet, his words did not match his actions. Instead of continuing on his path toward the door, he turns to face you, uncrossing his arms to hold them at his sides.

Is he simply nervous? Sometimes, warriors hardened on the battlefield liked to yield dominance in the bedroom. Maybe you should try throwing him against a wall and climbing him like a tree.

No. If submission was his preference, Anassa would have chosen someone else—Katlin with her barbed whips or Bat’ya with her cruel tongue.

You need to coax him without pushing. The subtle art of persuasion.

Let’s start with coy seduction.

Turning to look at him from over your shoulder, you toss your hair just so, sending shimmering waves down your back. You twist gracefully at the waist until your bodice gapes, revealing the generous contours of your body.

“Think of it as a reward,” your voice is supple as the velvet cushions surrounding you on the floor. “Someone to take care of you. My only desire is your comfort and pleasure.”

With that, you pour the tea and walk over to him, proferring a cup.

“That is indeed generous,” the Mandalorian cocks his head. “But I usually find more comfort in solitude.”

Yet, again, he makes no attempt to leave, accepting the cup from your hand graciously. Worn leather caresses your skin as your fingers brush against each other, reaching around the warm porcelain. The jaw of his helmet lifts, and you catch a glimpse of bronze skin and coarse black hair while he raises the cup to his lips.

Surprisingly full lips.

What did he mean by offering resistance? Was this a challenge? Some test of your professional acumen?

A skilled courtesan is, above all else, a student of human nature and hidden desires. She must know what her clients want before they speak the words. Before they know it themselves. This Mandalorian wanted to be…tempted.

Timidity would yield nothing.

You arch an eyebrow, “I have never known a man who preferred solitude to my company.” Then, you stare directly into the jet-black surface of his helmet’s visor. Meeting his gaze, you place a delicate hand over his chest plate and fill your voice with honey, “Let tonight be a rare exception to the usual.”

The Beskar feels cool against your palm and the pads of your fingertips. You hadn’t realized how flushed you’d become with your heart beating this fast. The insistent yearning between your thighs matches each pulse coursing through your veins.

“I am here to satisfy your needs. Whatever the Mandalorian desires is his for the taking.”

While the bounty hunter remains stubbornly silent, you can hear his breathing grow shallow through the modulator.

Having made your supplication, you draw back. “If it is tranquility the Mandalorian desires, perhaps I could play the valachord or sing for him?”

“Sing?” he huffs, sounding amused. It’s funny, hearing the smirk on his lips.

Well, at least he’s not completely immune to your charm.

“Pleasure takes many forms,” you say, flashing him a demure smile. “As such, we courtesans are skilled in many arts. I’ve been told my voice is exceedingly lovely. And I know all the Twelve Ballads of Kiergaard.”

You shift onto the edge of a thick cushion to pour yourself some tea. When you raise the cup to your lips, the look of elegant femininity slips—just for a moment, so he can see the earnest hunger filling your gaze. You fix him with your most smoldering stare, “Though I can certainly think of other ways to please you with my mouth.”

The tea tastes bitter on your tongue, but you hardly notice, waiting for his reaction.

The Mandalorian says nothing as he pulls the rifle over his head, settling it against the door frame. He walks over in a slow saunter that makes his hips dip and sway. Slowly, he extends his hand to take your face in his leather fingers, lifting up your chin.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?”

Your breath catches in your throat. A wave of arousal courses through your body, emanating from your clenching belly until it ripples over every surface of your skin, pinching your nipples.

“If the Mandalorian—” but he cuts off whatever beguiling line you intended.

“I thought this was about what I wanted?” he demands.

Suddenly, you’re too flustered to speak, confused by the sudden shift in dynamic. All his polite reticence had been an act. He was done testing you. He wanted to assert dominance.

In answer, you lower your gaze.

“That’s right,” he says cooly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re remembering what you’re for.” The Mandalorian takes the cup from your hands and tosses it aside. “There’s no more need to talk. Don’t open your mouth unless I tell you.”

Then he reaches down to his belt and unbuckles it.

And to think you worried he’d be too self-conscious for roleplay. This is going to be so good.

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

to be continued...

#work in progress #wip wednesday #no plot just mando smut #mando smut #sexy mando #sexymando #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #star wars smut #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian smut #mando x reader

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vidavalor · 4 months

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So I'm on a bit of a roll from just having finished some writing (probably post in the next day or two), so have some random thoughts!

Legit can't remember whether or not your linguistic analysis of Bildad the Shuhite touched on 'cobbler' as Cockney rhyming slang for either testicles (as in 'kick in the...') or nonsense (as in 'load of old cobblers') -- the latter meaning especially feels kind of appropriate!

What kind of 'madeleine memories' might an amnesiac Aziraphale get from a roast beef sandwich???

Do you think actual madeleines are likely to appear on screen in some capacity in S3?

Tiramisu has coffee, chocolate and alcohol, and thus feels like a VERY Ineffable-Husbands-speak dessert :D

Was poking around the Royal Albert Hall website for research purposes and found this: https://www.royalalberthall.com/tickets/tours-and-exhibitions/afternoon-tea/ Not quite as hyper-fancy as the Ritz, perhaps, but lots of little bits of Ineffable-speak meaningfulness in the food as well as being potentially a lovely little engagement celebration date???

Ehehehe

Hi, luv. Looking forward to reading your new writing! So many goodies to ponder here! 😍I actually have some madeleines today. And good coffee. It's raining here and ah, this is all a heavenly combination. 😊 Throwing this under a cut because your mention of tiramisu led me to write about two, related words in Ineffable Husbands Speak that I've noticed repeated: might and found...

We'll do the sea ties to insinuate while we're at it... 🐟

1- Cobbler: I need to do a whole thing on cobbler actually and will add & credit the findings you shared to you. I mainly just wanted to quickly make a post about how cobbler connects to sherry but there's actually a whole web of overlapping words they're using. It also ties to the root kob-- which quite literally means "good omens." 😊 I'll put a longer post on cobbler on the list.

2- Roast beef sandwich madeleine memories?:

*Bildad voice* You tell me... 😉

3- Madeleines on screen in S3?: I'm not expecting it but it would be fun. Would actually also go with the theme of the literal-and-the-figurative, especially with the food, so I guess it might actually be more likely than some other things. I mainly just want Aziraphale to eat something because he had a sherry and a couple of sips of tea in the present in S2 and that's why everything went sideways, really. That angel needs a sandwich in the worst way and in both ways that you can read that sentence.

4- Tiramisu: Yes. It actually also has one of my favorite meanings for any food, as it means a "pick-me-up" in Italian, which is very cute, no? It is very Ineffable Husbands-y for the reasons you mentioned and now you've got me going on about a word that we haven't heard them say lol but I can connect it to two words that they have said, so...

Tiramisu (originally from "tireme su") is thought to have been invented by the owner of a brothel in Treviso sometime around 1800. This innovative Mrs. Sandwich would offer it to clients as an aphrodisiac or as an after-treat and it was basically considered the Viagra of the 1800s in Italy. Coffee, alcohol, chocolate, as you pointed out... food + seamstressing = no way this isn't an Ineffable Husbands Speak thing.

It is perishable, as we know, and it was invented in a time before mainstream refrigeration so it originally wasn't as available outside of bigger cities, which is why it was often offered at the end of a client session as well, before the clients were sent home-- yeah, medicinal tiramisu was a thing. 😲 The actual origins of the dessert apparently weren't really discussed publicly until sometime around the 1980s as, once it became easier to keep things chilled, generations of Italian ladies were making tiramisu constantly and it got a bit awkward to acknowledge that all these adorable old nonnas for generations were passing down how to make this sexy dessert that was created in the first place by a lady bordello owner for, um, reasons...

But tiramisu would, by The Ineffable Husbands' wordplay rules, mix the origins and meanings of the word with its phonetic soundings in English and, as we've seen, French... so, it would also be spoken as: "tier a me sous."

A tier is an arrangement of things in an order and, also, in keeping with our amusing seamstressing origins of the dessert, rows of overlapping trim on a dress. Sous (the last s is silent) means under and/or below in French. In that way, expressing a desire for some tiramisu is expressing a desire for a tier in which you are sous your partner.

[Sidebar but this is reminding me that the sous vide style of cooking translates literally from French as "under/below the vacuum" and... I feel like Crowley does not have the willpower to have never not connected this to Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets in some way 😂... *doesn't look up from his book* "Oh, the Whickber Street Monthly Whatzit's getting takeaway? Gonna get the sous vide chicken this time, angel?"]

Tiramisu means a "pick me up"-- a mood-booster-- but "pick me up" is also obviously both tongue-in-cheek expression of wanting to be seduced and a request to be quite literally picked up, as in lifted off the floor... which is how you know that tiramisu is likely a dessert that Crowley thinks is the tops.

Since we're taking apart a word not in the series, I'll give you two others that tie to it that on their little vocab list: might and found.

There are at least two scenes that I've noticed so far where one of them is using the word might as innuendo in reference to Aziraphale. Might falls into the category of words like wily, thwart, smitten, etc..-- words that are amusing in how they have wildly different, often contradicting, definitions, and where at least one definition is a bit suggestive, allowing them to use it around angels or demons or in public with one definition on the surface and the flirtier one underneath.

On the one hand, might is the past tense of may and involves gentle suggestions or polite requests asking permission. On the other hand, the word might also has a real oomph when used in its other definition, which is to express the strength and power of a nation, a natural force, or a person.

It's basically Aziraphale in a word-- unfailingly polite and gentle on one level and full of raw strength on another.

The other word is found, which can be, uh, found lol, in the Crowley-penned Aziraphale entry in 'Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings...'. The sentence is actually constructed around the inclusion of 'found' and what makes that extra-amusing is that it suggests Crowley was eager to get the word in there, likely because of its nautical definition.

In seafaring terms, for a ship to be described as found is a very positive thing and, to be defined as such, it must meet both of two requirements:

The ship must be both well-equipped (*cough*) and, equally important, fully stocked.

A person who is stocked or stocky is, as we know, one who is broader, more shoulders and chest than height, and of a fuller and thicker build in thighs and arms. Someone like Aziraphale, who is physically strong and brawny and who would not have much difficulty picking up what would be being thrown down if Crowley were to order a tiramisu for dessert, if ya get mah drift...

Insinuate: To subtly introduce slowly into hearts and minds; to maneuver someone or something into a desired position; to thrust in, push in, or wind one's way into; to introduce with torturous slowness; and, of course, the best one: to hint at obliquely (ha!)

The sinu part of the word comes from sinus, a word that I've *achoo* been cursing all damn week because the gorgeous trees and plants are trying to kill me but which is Latin for all sorts of things a lot more pleasant than 'the part of the head that is often pounding during Spring.'

English-language writers of the dreamy sort-- the poets who call rainstorms "tempests", like a certain red-headed demon we know-- would also use sinus back in the day to describe a gulf, a bay, or "the arm of the sea", as well as any hole or cavity in the Earth.

Insinuate = In sinu ate. In the sea, eating. 😂

Why ever [eve/"temptation"/"sin"] would [wood] Aziraphale insinuate that Crowley might [mmm strong] possibly [which shares roots with potent] want [to want; also contains ant, the humans in the insect analogy] something [so/sew, me, thin; opposite of might]? = the actual dessert isn't invented yet in this scene in 1601 but seems like Crowley wants to get tiramisu'd something fierce...

5- Royal Albert Hall: Love this idea. It reminds me of how The British Museum also has an afternoon tea but how they've met in the cafe and how they've probably both wanted to get tea there. While I was on the Royal Albert Hall website, I was laughing over the copy on the menu for the box service, especially the *very* rare modern use of rhubarb in this way:

Choose from a wide range of canapés, sandwiches and sharing plates, finishing your meal with sweet treats. All food is prepared with the finest seasonal ingredients and is always presented with signature rhubarb style.

Aziraphale, back away from the copywriters... 😂

Cheers as always for the amusing stuff to think about @jotun-philosopher 💕

Original posts regarding fish, madeleines and memory, for anyone who might read this and is confuzzled and wondering wtf we're on about:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziracrow #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands speak #etymology

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showmey0urfangs · 3 months

Note

eagerly awaiting your thoughts on the finale & season as a whole queen, whenever you might be ready to share them! i watched ep 8 and have just been staring at my ceiling lol.

Hi Anon! Actually, I got to see the finale a few weeks back but I couldn't discuss it until it aired for obvious reasons. I was very curious to see how the rest of the fandom would react to it. As you've probably guessed, I'm not crazy about it, though there are some moments that I really enjoyed.

My main gripe with this episode is that by changing the book plot point and making Lestat the one who saves Louis while Armand was apparently intent on both he and Claudia dying, it creates a massive plot hole where Armand's motivations make even less sense than they did at the end of ep 6 (I talked about this in more details in another ask). Now Armand doesn't kill Claudia because he wants Louis more than anything in the world and he sees Claudia as competition (which she never even was in this version but okay). Now he wants to kill both of them, and he does this because...he's a villain who does villainous things muahaha! Who the fuck knows, tune in next season to find out...maybe

It points to the same sloppy writing that is recurrent throughout this entire season. The writers introduce major deviations from the books—which, great we love that, imo the show does best when it creates its own fresh new storylines, as evidenced by ep 5 and most of present-day Dubai—but then they turn around and still try to shoehorn in the same story beats from the book and it just doesn't work anymore, so the whole thing ends up feeling incoherent and contradictory.

Do I think Armand would have any qualms about killing Louis under different circumstances, absolutely not! My pookie hunts down and dismembers rogue fledglings as a pastime. In fact, the only reason he doesn't obliterate Louis and Claudia to ashes the minute they set foot in Paris is precisely because he falls for Louis and becomes so obsessed with Louis that he would do anything to have him.

If they were gonna change that plot point by removing Loumand's love story entirely then commit all the way and at least give us another plausible motivation for Armand putting on a whole ass fake trial and pretending he could not prevent it™ when his intent was to kill Louis anyway. What was the pretence for if not for Louis' benefit? What was the aim of his big machiavellic plan if it was not to get rid of Claudia and the coven in one fell swoop so that he and Louis could be together? Who the fuck knows, tune in next season to find out...maybe.

I also have a problem with the final twist/reveal. The way the show frames it, it doesn't come down to Louis finding out that Armand had a hand in Claudia's death. He already knew that, though not the full extent of it—because he's a dumb dumb who believed that Armand was oh so helpless next to the fierce vampire Sam. No, what pisses Louis off the most is the reveal that Armand didn't save him at the trial (although Armand still does free him from the coffin even though he's the one who wanted him killed in the first place, go figure).

But you see, Lestat loves Louis the mostest because at least HE saved Louis from the revenge trial...that he planned and rehearsed for months. So ShackLestat, as we're calling him, gets a bit of a rushed impromptu redemption arc with a tender hug and a kiss while Armand is thrown into a concrete wall and sent packing.

The final reveal is not about Claudia, it was never about [her]. The reason Louis resents Lestat in 1949 and pulls his little CW teen drama stunt in Magnus's tower hasn't changed; Lestat still crossed an ocean to rehearse a play that would burn his daughter alive and still stood by as said daughter was burnt to death. Armand is still the POS who sold them out. That hasn't changed much either. The decision of who Louis forgives comes down to who rescued him—which of his two toxic husbands was the better knight in dusty armour that chose him over Claudia. But who tf cares right? Loustat reunion everybody, yay! 🎉

I have so many other discrepancies and inconsistencies I could talk about, but at this point, I've made peace with the choices the show made. It's clear that the strikes had a huge impact on the writing and the overall quality the show might have had in a more ideal scenario. Hopefully, s3 will fare better, especially since RoJo—just like he keeps reminding us in every interview—will be writing about a character that he actually gives a fuck about for a change. 🙃

#fl❀'s asks #interview with the vampire #iwtv #iwtv season 2

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okkalo · 1 year

Text

the waiting game

sae x reader

genre(s): angst

tw: none

ive been writing too much fluff recently so

you’ve known sae for years now. you knew him before he left for spain for the first time, the days where he was only interested in soccer and his little brother. you became one of his only friends, seeing how he pushed everyone else away without a thought.

you got to know a different side of sae no one else got to see as a kid. the side of him that showed his care for his younger brother, the side of him tried his best to hide his embarrassment from losing a trade (he traded a quater for two nickels. he thought he had won the trade until you had to tell him he didn’t). you also got to see the side of him that held his dreams above anything else, that side was your favorite.

it didn’t take you long to fall for him. the problem being that he was soon to leave. the situation drove you to chase him down before soccer practice, wanting to confess before he left for good. you easily caught up to him, dragging him to a more secluded place.

“i know you leave soon,” you start out, nervous under his full attention, “and-and i know this might be selfish of me but—.”

“save it.” he cut off.

“w-what? that’s rude, y’know!” bewildered, you tried to bite back, embarrassment evident on your face.

“i know what you’re about to say. save it for when i come back for you,” he finished, his bored eyes piercing into yours.

and so you saved it and waited, ignoring the ache your heart gave from the lack of his presence.

and you waited.

he finally came back. sure, it had been awhile but your feelings never did wear off. not after he told you he’d be coming back for you. and that he did.

he arrived with a knock at your door. you weren’t aware of when he would be back, so seeing him all of a sudden took you by surprise. the bigger surprise is when he’d shown up with tears welled up in his eyes. you immediately welcomed him in to an embrace.

he had told you about the fight with rin, how his brother thought he was a loser and that sae had lost his cool, saying things he couldn’t take back. you listened, rubbing his back through it all.

was it wrong to think of how he didn’t even smile when he saw you? the way he used to? after all these years?

you did your best to live off the thoughts, ignoring the way he left in a blur once again. ignoring the way he told you to wait once again before you confessed.

and so, you waited.

this time you saw him a week after the u-20 game with blue lock. you figured that he was so hung up over the loss to even meet with you. this time you didn’t hug him hello, his demeanor different from the one you once loved.

“my parents want you over for a dinner sometime,” he mentioned, which drew your attention back to the topic at hand.

“don’t think i can,” you replied, eyes avoiding his. you could. you just don’t think you could keep trying to put yourself in the life of sae itoshi.

“are you stupid? did you think i forgot about your habit to look away when you lie?” he gruffed, something in your heart hurting in the way he said it so casually. “what’s wrong?”

“sae…i might be selfish for this but—.”

“save it.” there it was.

“sae i don’t feel the same as i used to.” you stated firmly, eyes meeting back up with his, this time more glassy. he stood silent, shock apparent in his raised brows. “m-maybe it’s because—.”

“what?” he exhaled out an unknown breathe that caught in his throat. it was clear he was still hung up on your declaration.

“i don’t know. i’ve just gotten tired of waiting,” you state, voice breaking the more you spoke. you watched as he reacted, scared to say anymore with a shaky voice. his disbelief soon turned to furrowed brows, making him seem angry.

it’s not like he put in enough effort to be mad in the first place.

it’s not like he was the one who had to wait.

his response finally came in the form of a scoff. he knew what would happen if he said anything else, flashbacks throwing him back to the fight with his brother. he settled for a simple, “alright.” he wasted no time in getting up from his spot from across of you, making big and quick steps to leave your house with a light slam of the door.

even though he had left the house, the tension he brought still stayed. and you sat in silence, letting the scene take over your mind. did he really not care enough to make more of a deal about it? should you be grateful that was all he said?

even though you hadn’t felt the same way you had used to you still felt the wound he had left behind.

the waiting game was now over, at least.

unedited thanks for reading!

#bllk #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock drabbles #bllk drabbles #blue lock sae itoshi #blue lock sae #bllk sae #bllk sae itoshi #blue lock angst #bllk angst #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader

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newtthetranswriter · 10 months

Note

Mike schimt x reader but

as bodyguard!mike x shy!reader

I’m not the best at requesting things so I hope this helps

Word count: 2040

Paring: Mike Schmidt x Gn! Reader

Summary: After Freddy Fazbear’s, Mike takes a job as a local singer’s bodyguard.

A/n: Thank you for requesting, I enjoyed writing this for you. I hope this is what you were hoping for,but it’s the idea I got from seeing Bodyguard. Anyway keep requesting and have a good day. Just remember to Hydrate or Diedrate.

Shortly after the events that happened at Freddy Fazbear’s, Mike desperately needed a new job. Sure he could still keep an eye on the place but after all that happened to him and the fact that he almost lost Abby, he decided finding a different job was for the best. Luckily while looking for work he saw a job posting for a bodyguard position. It wasn’t the best job but the details were simple in it was keeping any eye on a local singer who had a somewhat of a large fan base, and had recently started receiving some unsettling messages and just wanted some extra protection. Upon considering it he figured why not as the chance of animatronics being the culprit was pretty slim, so he applied and waited for a response.

About a week later he received a call offering him the position and requesting he meet with his new boss at Sparky’s dinner. After taking Abby to school he went back home dressed in his best outfit and headed out to meet with the person he would now be protecting. When he entered the dinner and moved to the booth he was directed to by the nerd waiter, he was shocked to see a person wearing a beanie and sunglasses paired with a large coat covering their figure.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Y/n.” he said to the figure as they turned to him quickly and looked back at the table. They gave a small nod, motioning him to sit down with them. “So are you Y/n?” Mike received a nod in response. It didn’t take long to figure out that this person was extremely shy and it probably took a lot for them to have even agreed to hire a bodyguard, let alone become popular enough to need one. “Can I ask what it is you would like me to do as your bodyguard?”

Y/n nodded their head before seemingly realizing they would need to speak to this new person. “I just need you to come with me to my shows on the weekends and keep the creeps away. Nothing has happened yet, but I’d rather be safe. Plus some guy has been sending me mail that says some messed up shit, and I think that if I have someone with me when I go to shows he might stop.” They explained quietly. If Mike hadn’t spent so long with Abby who spoke rather quietly for a while he probably wouldn't have been able to understand what was said, but he understood.

“Not to sound ungrateful for the job, but why get a bodyguard instead of going to the police?” He asked genuinely confused, if some guy was making threats shouldn’t the police do something.

Y/n turned away and mumbled a response before looking at the confused man in front of them. “They won’t do anything. I’ve tried but because there is no proof they are real threats they say there’s nothing they can do.” They spoke a little louder this time.

Mike continued to ask questions about the job, and about Y/n. He learned quickly that they were the lead singer of a local cover band who played at clubs and stuff around. It seemed many people truly enjoyed their music and they apparently had a larger following on the internet as well. Mike also learned that Y/n was always pretty shy and it was their bandmates who pushed them to get a bodyguard. With some sound knowledge of his new job he bid his boss farewell, agreeing to meet them two hours before their next show that friday.

Friday came quicker than he thought it would. But as the time to meet with his boss came closer he realized he had no one to watch Abby while he was working. Everyone he tried was busy and he cursed himself for waiting until the last minute to find a babysitter for his sister. Running out of time he decided she would have to go with him and hopefully beagle to wait backstage during the show. “Abby come on grab your bag and a blanket, you’re coming to work with me tonight.” Mike shouted as he scrambled to find his keys.

The young girl quickly grabbed her backpack and blanket excited to see what fun job her brother had now. “What is your job now?” She asked as she got in the car.

“Just keeping someone safe while they sing for some people. While we are there, either color or sleep, don't go running around, I won't be able to watch you.” he said looking at Abby in the rearview mirror. Receiving a nod he smiled and then headed to the location he was meeting with Y/n at.

When they arrived they went around the back of the club to the employee entrance Mike had been told to go through. He texted Y/n, informing them that he was there and needed to be let in. After only a few minutes, he was greeted by a familiar face opening the door. Y/n greeted him and motioned for him to come inside quickly, noticing the young girl following behind.

“And who is this?” They questioned after greeting Mike. Y/n reached their hand out for Abby to shack.

Before Mike could respond Abby spoke up. “I’m Abby, my brother forgot to find a babysitter before today and didn’t want to leave me home alone.” She said, shaking the kind stranger's hand.

“Sorry about this, I hope it’s okay. I totally forgot to find a sitter and it wasn’t a good idea to leave her home, if it’s okay she can just sit in the back and draw or sleep, she won’t be a problem.” Mike went on explaining why he brought his sister to his first day on the job.

Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand she can sit in the dressing room, I’ll have some of the kitchen staff bring in some food for her as well.” Y/n explained before guiding the pair to the fitting room.

After getting Abby settled in the dressing room, Mike sat and watched as Y/n and their band practiced, enjoying the music and completely amazed at how well the different genres of music flowed and worked together. The band played anything from My Chemical Romance to Bon Jovi, even some older country music. It wasn’t necessarily the kind of music you would think would fit a club but after rehearsal Y/n had explained that all kinds of people visited the club and over time requested most of the songs they played in their sets now, and so it evolved into this crazy mixture of music from every genre.

A few hours later Y/n’s band had finished their performance and decided to enjoy the rest of the night while a different group performed. Mike decided that since he noticed Y/n head to the bathroom he would quickly go in the back to check on Abby. When he got to the dressing room he saw Abby asleep on one of the chairs and headed back out to keep an eye on Y/n. Reaching the busy club he spotted Y/n trying to get a drink from the bar. Keyword there being trying, there was an older man who kept talking to them, completely ignoring the fact they were trying desperately to ignore him.

Seeing this as one of the things he was hired to help stop he approached the pair. “Excuse me Sir, but I’m gonna have to ask you to leave them alone. They're not interested and I would hate to cause a scene.” Hearing his voice Y/n moved to stand behind Mike.

The man that had been bugging Y/n turned to Mike. “And why do you think such a pretty thing isn’t interested in me? What are you their boytoy coming to protect them?” The man sneered at Mike. He then reached his hand out to grab Y/n’s arm. “I think we were having a pleasant chat.”

Spotting the hand reaching for Y/n, Mike quickly threw a powerful punch into the man’s face, receiving a resounding crack as his nose broke under the force. “They aren’t interested in you because you’re a creep. And I’m just here to keep creepy bags of trash from making them uncomfortable.” With that Mike quickly guided Y/n back to the dressing room apologizing for punching the guy even if he deserved it.

Once in the safety of the dressing room, Y/n couldn’t help but cry. “Thank you for stopping that guy, he just kept on insisting that he buy me a drink when all I was trying to do was get some water.” They said quietly, having noticed Abby asleep when they came in. Even though they had barely known Mike for a week they couldn’t help but to fall into his chest hugging him thanks.

Realizing how distressed Y/n was Mike made a decision. “How about you tell your bandmates that I’m gonna give you a ride home, that way you can get out of here and not deal with any more crazy people tonight.” He offered gently running a hand down their back in a comforting way.

Y/n nodded in agreement accepting the offer and then quickly texted their friends explaining what happened and that Mike would be taking them home. After that Mike gently woke Abby, grabbing her bag and blanket. He guided a half asleep Abby, and Y/n out to his car. He got Y/n’s address from them and proceeded to take them home before going home to sleep himself.

After a few months of working for Y/n, Mike grew closer to them and found himself hanging out with them even when it wasn’t for work. They had become great friends, and instances like the first night he worked for Y/n happened less and less. It also seemed their band’s fans ahad noticed him not only at the clubs they performed but the online fan base began to notice him in videos and were asking for answers. They all wanted to know who the guy always hanging around Y/n was and why he just suddenly appeared. Don’t even get them started on the theories, most of which were that Mike was Y/n’s boyfriend and they were trying to keep it quiet.

With the growing speculation, Y/n decided (more like the band told them) that they need to address this with their fans, and asked Mike to join them for a quick Youtube video. Mike met up with Y/n at their apartment, ready to address the concerns. After setting up the cameras Y/n had Mike wait out of shot before starting the video.

“S-sso we have seen your questions about the guy who can be seen near the stage in all of our videos over the past months, and have decided It’s time to tell you guys the truth. So without further ado this is Mike, My bodyguard.” Y/n motioned for Mike to sit next to them. He gave a small wave to the camera and a quiet hi. “He’s been working for me for a few months because someone was making threats and he’s been at all the shows to make sure nothing happens to me, and he has saved me from so many creeps in that time.” Y/n smiled. “And with the pressure from my Bandmates, and you guys of course I’ve decided to introduce him.”

They recorded for probably twenty more minutes answering some questions that had been asked over the past few months before signing off and sending the video to be edited. Deciding to not let the day go to waste, Mike Invited Y/n out for lunch and a movie. Maybe he started as just their bodyguard but he was slowly becoming more. If the fans were right about him being Y/n’s boyfriend was unclear right now but it was starting to look like that would soon change. Though they wouldn’t tell them that yet.

#fnaf movie x reader #fnaf x reader #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #mike x reader #gn!reader

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fanfics-for-you · 5 days

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what's in a name? || Patrick Verona (TTIHAY) x gn!reader (Modern!College!AU)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ✨️Patrick Verona✨️

Summary: Patrick Verona is apparently the most intimidating guy on campus. You just want to get by, pass your classes, and get to your actual dreams. When you casually approach him one day and decidedly are not scared of him, Patrick has some questions.

TWs: light language, use of Y/N (only like twice), second person POV (you, yours).

[[A/N: This is basically under the concept that you approach Patrick first, and aren't really as afraid of him as anybody else. He's intrigued. Also this is a college AU, because I am in college and I think it's weird to write about high school lmao. ALSO,,, I know this is incredibly niche and a dead tag, but... I watched the movie recently and was violently possessed to write this. The parasites in me what to continue this universe, but idk. Anyway. Enjoy :)]]

You were exhausted. Totally and completely exhausted.

You'd stayed up all night for your chem quiz, and still, didn't think you did great on it. Which made your day ever so worse. So, when you went to the library, and someone was sitting in the spot you always sat in, you halfway wanted to cry and halfway wanted to rip your hair out. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be a big deal, but today it was. So, with a certainty that rivaled a lawyer in court, you stomped over to the chair.

For a moment, the guy didn't even look at you. He kept staring at his friend, a surprisingly 'metal' dressing guy who was talking avidly about something.

You cleared your throat.

That's when they both looked at you.

You were entirely focused on the one in your seat. A taller guy with built shoulders, curly hair and a sharp jaw. In normal circumstances, you'd probably think he was hot. Today was not normal circumstances.

The man raised an eyebrow.

Okay, so maybe it was a little normal circumstances, but that wasn't relevant.

"What are you doing?"

The man answered, simply -maybe a little confused, "Sitting?"

"That's my spot," you clarified, pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" the man pretended to start getting up before pausing -speaking sarcastically, "-Oh wait, I've just remembered, this is public property."

Mindlessly noting that he had an accent that you couldn't quite place, you rolled your eyes, "I sit there everyday. Just give me the spot."

"You weren't sitting here all day," he pointed out, "-or else I wouldn't be here."

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, "I was busy failing a chem test, now get up."

His eyes skimmed over your face, thoughtfully, "Do you know who I am?"

"Why-" you sighed out, frustrated, "-would I know who you are?"

Even despite the comment, he did seem familiar somehow but you weren't going to tell him that.

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, and didn't say anything. You felt like you were going to explode in fiery flames.

You groaned, "Oh my god. There are thousands of seats on campus, just go sit somewhere else."

"Exactly," the man countered, "-why don't you sit somewhere else?"

"Because-" you huffed out a breath, "-that's my spot."

"And why is this spot so important to you?" He shuffled slightly, moving his hands along the cracks of the seat, "-You got something good stashed in 'ere?"

"Dear god," you huffed out a breath in defeat, "-Whatever. Enjoy your seat, asshole."

And with that, you spun on your heel and pulled yourself deeper into the library. Taking a breath in, you pulled yourself into a seat not too far from the original, but you were around the corner so you wouldn't have to look at his stupid face. You soured just at the thought.

You pulled open your chem book, and read through it -trying to figure out which ones you definitely missed, that way you could get the ballpark for what your grade might be. You really needed to know, to make sure your GPA stayed in the range for your dream university.

But, in the middle of it, you heard someone plop into the chair in front of you (it was a group of chairs, like for a group of people if necessary).

Before looking up, you spoke -sharply, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Your eyes shot up at that familiar accent, and you frowned.

"You got the seat," you pointed out, bitterly, "-What the hell do you want now?"

"Your name," he answered simply.

You blinked, (what?) before settling back into your seat and flipping to the next page, "Yeah, no."

The man seemed to move forward, and unwillingly your eyes flickered to him (his curls moving with the motion), "Why not?"

"I don't give my name out to strangers," you retorted -flicking your eyes down to your book, "-especially not assholes."

"Don't know if I can change who I am," he smirked, "-but, I can work on the stranger part."

You frowned, eyeing him particularly, "Seriously, what do you want?"

"I already told you," he replied, fidgeting with something in his hands (you weren't paying attention), "-I'm Patrick, by the way."

"Well," you exhaled, sharply, and ignored his name, "-you're not getting it."

"Well," he repeated with the same sort of grin, "-I'll just have to work on that too, then."

You looked up at him again and squinted at him -trying to read him somehow. All he did was grin at you, a charming kind, of course, that made crinkles on his cheeks. You ignored the flutter in your chest that it gave you and darted your eyes back down to your book.

The next day, you were in better spirits. After studying for an entirely different class, you were pretty sure you aced that test. So, you weren't as pissed, thankfully. Until you went into the library to sit between classes like you always did.

You paused in your step and frowned.

The guy (Patrick, your mind treacherously noted) was sitting by your chair, mindlessly tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair. He wasn't in your chair, thankfully, but still, he was in the one beside it. Pointedly close.

You huffed out a breath, and moved toward the chairs, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," he repeated.

You raised an eyebrow.

He seemed to take that as a repeat of the question -before saying, confidently (too confidently), "I'm studying for a test."

"You don't seem like the studying type," you retorted, throwing yourself into the chair and pulling out your laptop -realizing it was no use to try and get him to leave.

Patrick pointed out, "You don't even know me."

"And I don't intend to," you replied with ease, flicking your eyes to meet his, "-your point?"

He grinned the same bright one from before, amused maybe. Your heart skipped a beat, so you dropped your eyes back down to your laptop. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to look away.

"What's your major?" He asked, thoughtfully.

"I won't tell you my name," you leveled, scrolling through your online schedule for homework, "-but you think I'll tell you my major?"

"Well," he reasoned, "-a name is much more identifiable, but your major," he shrugged, "-not so much."

You eyed him again for a second, before saying, "What if you just want to look up my classes and hunt me down?"

Patrick smiled again, before asking, "What is your next class?"

"Why?" You ask, pointedly, "-So you can force me into talking to you again?"

"Preferably," he replied, grinning cheekily.

You raised an eyebrow, and bit your lip to pull down a smile that begged to quirk up, "I'm not telling you that either."

"What if I just follow you when you leave?" He questioned, curiously, "-Figure it out myself?"

"And what if I-" you smiled at him -patronizingly, "-call the campus police?"

He raised both eyebrows as if to say 'touché' without saying it out loud. You bit down another smile and moved back to your computer -pulling out your planner and jotting down dates.

"Your pissiness," he suddenly spoke, "-Are you often filled with boiling hatred?"

"No," you sigh out, before shooting him another patronizing smile, "-that's special just for you."

He laughed then, and something warm zinged down to your toes (you ignored it), "Do you seriously not know me?"

"Do you know how many Patricks exist in the world?" you point out, "-No, I don't know you."

"So you do remember my name," he smirked, patting along his lap with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but didn't say a word.

It ended up like that for the rest of the time, Patrick shooting questions now and then, and you shutting them down. His stupid smirk and low, rumbly, accented voice, you hated that he actually seemed kinda nice -all things considered.

But, as you stood up to leave, you decided on something.

"Literature," you said simply, gathering up everything into your bag.

He paused, shooting up his eyebrows, "What?"

"My next class," you answered, nonchalantly pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "-Intro to Literature."

Patrick grinned, bright and shiny, "Gen Ed?"

"Yeah," you answered, moving to put the last few things in your bag.

"Can I walk you?"

Your eyes snapped to him then, curiously -detailing the rather honest look, before answering solidly, "No."

He burst into laughter then, throwing his head back against the chair -you mindlessly watched his curls fall back with the motion and then snapped your eyes away.

"Same time tomorrow then?" He asked, still laughing a little bit (something in you twinkled).

"Nope," you exhale a breath, ignoring the disappointment that swirled into your chest, "-I'm not on campus tomorrow."

He seemed to falter for a second, "Do you live on campus?"

You raised a solid eyebrow, you really think I'd tell you that?

"Right, yeah, okay," Patrick conceded, holding up his hands in faux surrender, "-What days are you on campus?"

You paused, pressing your lips together, but something in you did it, "Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays."

He grinned a little brighter, "Are you here around the same time on Mondays?"

Something in your chest flipped, but even still, you answered, "That's what you have to figure out. Not me."

And then, you spun on your heel and walked out of the library. His laughter trailed out behind you, and if you had a small little smile on your face at the noise, that was only for you to know.

Monday came, and you woke up early and made your way to campus -the first class of the day was at the crack of dawn. You physically despised it, but so is the schedule of a college student. Plus, you still worked, so the earlier the better for your schedule -didn't mean it didn't suck though.

Sipping on your drink, you wandered back toward the cafeteria -crossing the main connecting area, where everything led to. There was a baseball game going on, not an official one by the looks of it, in the grass. Your eyes hinged on the game for a few seconds, the echoes of laughter shooting toward your ears. It looked fun, but you weren't too invested in being outside for that long. Before you could look away though, your eyes caught on a familiar frame.

Patrick.

His hair was tied back, and he was wearing a pretty bland tank top (just grey), with some typical jeans. With his hair pulled back, you could see his jaw more distinctively -the sharp lines clear from even this far away. (Not that you were looking.) The sun bore down on them but all of the players seemed to be happily distracted. And you kinda were too.

You pursed your lips, for a moment, and looked forward again after a breath, heading toward the cafeteria again confidently.

Before you could get very far, though, you heard a familiar accent.

"Hey!" He yelled, a little distant -footsteps following his voice, "-Hey!"

At first, you weren't sure if he was talking to you, so you kept moving.

"Shit, I don't know what to call you," he called out, breathless and much, much closer.

You spun on your heels with furrowed brows, and met his eyes over a few people's heads. The grin that swallowed his face whole should've been criminal, bright and twinkly and... charming.

Before you could say anything, he was by your side with heavy breaths -assumedly from playing baseball and getting over to you. Leaning over slightly, he leveled out heavy breaths. You were almost concerned enough to offer him water, but he seemed to settle himself before you could.

"Hi," he echoed, "-'Ve been looking for you all morning, what time did you get here?"

You blinked, all morning?

"I get here early, 7, and immediately go to class," you answered, a little blankly (looking for you, looking for you, looking for you).

"Oh," he paused, "-I got here at 8. There's classes at 7?"

"Obviously," you respond, because you did in fact just say it.

"Did you-" Patrick started, before pursing his lips together, "-Are you going to the library now?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "No, I'm going to the cafeteria to eat between classes. Why?"

"I'm actually quite hungry myself," he avoided the question, "-Do you mind if I tag along?"

"What about your game?" You furrowed your eyebrows even further -eyeing him curiously.

"'S just to fill time," he explained, "-It's nothing serious. They're sure to find someone to fill in for me."

You flicker your eyes along his face, trying to read him. What's your prerogative?

After a moment, you come up with nothing and instead, just turn on your heel -leading the way to the cafeteria.

"I'm taking that as a yes, then?" Patrick called out from behind you, catching up and matching your stride with ease (despite you making no move to slow down).

You decidedly don't answer him, and say something focused elsewhere -eyeing him as you walk forward, "Do you always stalk people this much?"

Patrick laughed, catching your eye with his warm brown ones (they were almost sparkly under the sun of the day), "Only the ones that blindly hate me."

You pressed your lips together in a flat line (trying not to give anything away), "I didn't say that I hated you."

His face lit up at the words (and you couldn't decide if you regretted it or not), "Well, you could've convinced me."

You roll your eyes, and keep walking forward, "Not telling you my personal information isn't... hating you."

"I'm not sure not introducing yourself is exactly anything but hatred," he argued back, fluidly.

"I just told you that I don't hate you," you point out, "-so it isn't."

"Does that mean you'll eventually tell me your name?" Patrick asked, curiously.

You turned to him, flicked your eyes over him, and then looked forward again, "Maybe on good behavior."

He burst into laughter, brown eyes set on your face, "You're quite an enigma, you know that?"

"And you're not half the mystery you portray," you fire back, naturally, with the flow of the conversation.

He grinned at that, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite label, "You know, I don't think I've met a person like you. You're fearless in like a-" he motioned with his hands, "-casual way."

"I'm not fearless," you argue, approaching the door to the cafeteria, "-I'm just confident."

"Do they not go hand-in-hand?" Patrick offers, getting to the door before you and promptly holding it open for you -unflinchingly.

Something warm stirs in your stomach at the gesture (and his woodsy scent that brushes your nose as you walk past him), but you ignore it, "You can be certain and still be afraid."

"But knowing you're right doesn't necessarily mean-" Patrick followed you in, matching your stride again, as if it's natural, "-that you're confident."

You furrow your eyebrows, genuinely intrigued, "What do you mean?"

He paused, maybe a little shocked by your attentiveness, "Plenty of people know they're right and still concede to someone else because they don't want to fight it. You-" he pointed at you, "-will fight it."

"Well," you purse your lips, avoiding his eye contact, "-maybe I'm only like this with you."

"You," Patrick paused, "-You're not this fiery ball of rage with anyone else?"

You eye him for a second, before saying flatly, "Maybe."

"All of this seething hatred and impressive indifference just for me?" He grins, the big teeth-showing kind, "-I'm touched really. Because I am special to you in some weird kinda twisted way-"

Before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh at his words -just a quick one. Barely there.

But you could still see the delight smooth along his face, and just knew he caught it.

"How much of that have you been holding back?" He tilted his head curiously, before continuing to push it, smirking, "-Oh I bet you think I'm hilarious."

Your heart skipped a beat at the smirk, and you simply pressed your lips together and turned on your heel to the food counter. There wasn't even a second before you heard footsteps following you.

"You're not denying it, you know," he called after you, close on your tail.

You peer over the selection of food, eyeing the different items thoughtfully, "But I didn't confirm it either."

"Still not denying it," Patrick hummed, sing-songy.

"You know," you turn to him (mindlessly noting that he is very close), sharply, "-someone can have one good joke and still be unfunny."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes set on yours -challenging, "Then tell me why it came out like you were holding it back?"

You blinked at him, once and then twice, the sudden closeness sent a shock through your brain and the challenging tone of his voice nearly gave you full-body shivers. You can't find words to say, and you can nearly see it processing on Patrick's face (the way that he had made your mind melt for a moment), so you turn to the counter and point at something random for them to pick out for you.

The woman eyes the two of you suspiciously, but still diligently pulls out a to-go plate and piles the... mashed potatoes onto it.

"Oh my god," he finally says after a moment (you ignore it).

You go through a few other items, and the woman gathers them onto the plate. You pay, grab your plate-

"You like me," Patrick retorts, and you're not even looking at him but you can tell he's got a shit-eating grin.

Your brain malfunctions for a moment, but you step toward the tables and fire back (on autopilot), "I won't even tell you my name."

He's hot on your trail, following you diligently, "You're avoiding the question."

You spin to him, and reply -sharply, "You didn't ask a question."

His eyes flicker along your face, taking you in (you want to squirm but you steel yourself in place -your eyes now challenging), and then he grins so bright that you'd need sunglasses in any other scenario.

"Oh, you're really into me," he continues, low, gravelly, accented voice rumbling through your ears.

You screw up your face into something defiant, roll your eyes, and turn back to slide into a table. Patrick follows you like a lost puppy. Well, an incredibly arrogant lost puppy.

"You're still not denying it," he slides into the chair beside you and you hate the way your brain swims at the woodsy smell that brushes your nose.

"'Thought you were hungry," you say, simply (avoiding the question and decidedly not denying).

"It was very obviously a ploy," Patrick chimed back, with natural ease -tilting his head slightly and looking at you with twinkling eyes, "-They had pizza out there for all the players. I've already eaten."

Your fork froze for a millisecond (even still, you were sure he caught it), and after a moment, you pulled it to your lips. Maybe conquering both of your lack of response and the way your mind lit up at the idea of 'he just wanted to see me'.

His smile and eyes seemed to soften slightly, as he leaned his head down to catch your eye and guide it back up to your natural gaze (your heart skipped a beat). His brown eyes were soft and if you were honest, maybe a little affectionate.

"What's your name?" He finally said after a soft few moments.

And just like that, for you, the moment snapped, and you rolled your eyes -turning back to your food.

"Oh, come on," Patrick tried to catch your gaze again, "-Look, I'll tell you. Patrick Verona. That's my name-"

You bit down a smile, as he motioned to you with his hands.

"-Now, your turn, tell me yours."

You raised an eyebrow.

Patrick let out a half-laugh, before leaning forward slightly on the table -not quite a breath away, but certainly closer.

"You're so stubborn," he laughed, "-I'll beg. You want me to beg?"

You can't help but let the smile slip onto your lips then, "Why would you beg for my name?"

"Because I want it," he pointed out, still grinning "-Because I want to know you, and personally, I think it should start with a name."

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you let your fork hang there on the path to your face. You took a moment, scampered your eyes along his face (dark brown eyes so incredibly soft, curls coming down from where he put them up in individual tendrils). Your resolve was weakening, it was really and truly broken under Patrick Verona's hand.

Stupid pretty boys-

"Y/N," you said finally (quieter than intended), immediately pulling a bite to your mouth.

Patrick blinked, "What?"

"'S my name," you explain -shortly, moving a hand in front of your mouth as you chew, "-Y/N."

His eyes lit up at the words, that stupid charming grin smoothing onto his face as he repeated, softer than expected, "Y/N."

You shove down the fluster that begs to climb up your cheeks at his accented voice saying your name. It's something you'd never really thought about but now that it's said, you probably should've thought about it.

Patrick leaned back in his chair, eyes still set on you. He was still grinning, as he said simply, "Suits you."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He raises his hands in faux surrender, laughing to himself, "Jesus, you're a true ball of rage, you know 'at?"

"I'm not-" you huff out, and take a deep breath in, "-I'm not mad."

"Defensive then," he mends, "-You act as though I'm about to strike any minute."

You pursed your lips, "Whose to say you aren't?"

"Me," Patrick laughs, "-This entire conversation. The way I've acted around you since the beginning-"

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your lips, "-you were an asshole once."

He groaned, but something like amusement was twinkling in his eyes, "You are the most stubborn human being on this earth-"

"You took my spot," you interrupt, sturdy.

"-It's public property," Patrick argued back, "-and how was I supposed to know it was yours before I sat in it?"

You paused, for a moment, before saying, "You couldn't. But, you could have given it to me when I asked."

"And then we wouldn't be here," he explained, now fully grinning, "-and wouldn't that just be such a bore."

Your eyes swam over his face a moment, Patrick Verona. And his dumb persistence. And his stupid handsome face-

God.

You let out a long sigh, picking around at your food. Eyes watching the swirl of your fork, you debate a few different things to say. Finally, after a few spare seconds, you made up your mind.

"Yeah," you hum, flickering your eyes up to his, "-it would."

Patrick grinned, big and bright and twinkly (you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest). His eyes, the deep brown that if you weren't careful you could stare at for way too long, were soft but still sort of happy, eager. Definitely eager.

And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to-

"I told you I could work on the 'stranger' thing," he suddenly said, smirking, "-You never should've doubted me."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You said-" Patrick explained, "-you don't give your name out to strangers. And I said I could work on that part-"

You level a look at him.

"-And look, I did," he continued, before adding with a smirk, "-I have successfully escaped the cavernous barrier, deeper than the ocean I'd say, that walls you off from any poor soul who wishes to know you-"

"You're really pushing it, Verona," you chime back, fiery (but not quite all the way).

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, like he said nothing at all to warrant the reaction, "-You can't tell me that it's not like pulling teeth getting to know you. Or trying to anyway-"

You press your lips onto a flat line, "Wow, you must be a sort of masochist, then?

He faltered for a second, before laughing a little, "Oh absolutely, I chase the high of you ignoring me for 2 hours straight every day."

You rolled your eyes, biting down a smile, "I despise you."

"Better that than indifferent," he responded with ease, "-I prefer you feeling something rather than nothing at all."

"Oh my god-"

It continued like that, a back and forth, as you finish eating your mediocre cafeteria lunch. The silence is sparse but not uncomfortable when Patrick isn't running his mouth, that is. It was nice. Insanely nice. You'd probably never had as much fun on this campus as you did with him, just in general, but...

"Same time Wednesday?" He poses with a cheeky grin, leaning onto one hand against the table -closer to you than before.

You felt something warm swirl into your stomach, as your eyes flickered over his face. He was still smiling, like he wasn't able to stop when he was here with you. And something in you never wanted to see it go away anyway.

So, with a slight head tilt and a brighter grin than what you'd let slip past all day, you repeated.

"Same time Wednesday."

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pb-dot · 3 months

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Film Friday: Interstella 5555

The process I employ to figure out what movie to cover on this little column of mine is more of an art than a science. Some times it has me scrolling mindlessly through my letterboxd or netflix history looking for a movie I feel strongly enough about to write about. Other times, I decide to listen to Alive 2007 and realize Daft Punk is one of the best musical acts of all time. So, with that in mind, let's talk about that time they made a movie.

As one might expect for an almost feature-length movie to the 2001 Daft Punk album Discovery, Interstella follows the story of a group of alien musicians who find themselves abducted by extrasolar interlopers, shortly revealed to be humans who takes our blue-skinned friends to earth. Once there, the Interstella gang are brainwashed and disguised as humans in order to work for a skeezy producer slash symphonic orchestra conductor, later revealed to have struck a Faustian bargain with some sort of space satan for eternal life and riches provided he can sacrifice 5555 golden records, and the artists who produced them with it.

It's not the most complex story once you get over the novelty of the reverse alien abduction and space satanism bits, but that is perhaps inevitable, considering this movie has no spoken dialog apart from the odd line or lyrics that is meant to be diegetic. Secondary protagonist who I have dubbed as "guitar spaceship guy," for example, sings Digital Love to himself while cleaning said guitar-shaped spaceship and day-dreaming of the alien band's bass player before receiving his call to action.

The movie probably shines the hardest when there's lot of mechanical stuff going on. The sequence when the Interstella crew gets their brainwashing and humanface disguises, the mechanical beats Harder, Faster, Better, Stronger makes it seem like a How It's Made episode from a much MUCH darker timeline.

It's also interesting to me how the brainwashing does seem to take just fine, but the crew, now under the name Crescendolls, seem morose, still every bit as able to make killer tracks as in their pre-abduction days, but without the clear and apparent joy. Granted, the hardships of being a Commercial Super Hit Artist does probably play into it, but even before that, there's a profound malcontent in them. I almost find myself wishing there was some expository dialog here to explore this. Do they know on some level that they don't belong on earth? That they're being made to do the thing they once loved wholeheartedly for someone else's gain?

It's hard not to speculate on the auteur side of this. The context that Discovery was a departure album from Daft Punk's established house music style, and arguably their entry into the attention of wider pop culture, is similarly hard to ignore. Considering Daft Punk adopted their now-iconic robot mask personae at the same time, it's not hard to read a fear of becoming part of the Pop Machine in Interstella 5555.

If I can now only take a brief digression to talk about the music. Discovery is one of my favorite albums of all time. Filing off the rough edges and at times consciously abrasive soundscapes from earlier releases makes for a compulsively listenable album. I'm particularly fond of how Daft Punk uses vocal performance, primarily through samples as a musical element. The sample of Barry Manilow's paranoid cuckold anthem Who's Been Sleeping In My Bed in Superheroes is somehow both basically incomprehensible and instantly iconic, and the thought of having ears keen enough and musical intuition sharp enough to pick up on it in the first place is one of those genius moves that I understand, but could not replicate for all the gold in the world.

If Interstella 5555 has any flaws, apart from annoyingly being 5 minutes too short to be classified as a feature length film at 65 minutes, it's probably the slightly disposable tragedy of Guitar Spaceship Guy, who's doomed but heroic quest to save Interstella 5555 arguably could have been cut in its entirety. His infatuation with Interstella's bass player plays out in this structurally sound but kind of lifeless romance by the songs Digital Love and Something About Us, and the fact that GSG and Bass Player Lady doesn't actually know each other becomes impossible to ignore. His dying... dream sharing or whatever else is going on there feels like it's following a character arc that isn't there. Bass Player Lady doesn't know him, and crucially, he doesn't know her. It's all parasocial, and he dies shortly thereafter. It's not to say something beautiful couldn't grow from this, and I think that's what they're getting at with the Something About Us sequence, but it does feel like mourning what Didn't Happen, and if we're getting started on that we'll be here all day so let us move on.

Speaking of flaws, the movie does drag a little in the third act. Part of this is the Act 2 Climax feeling more fitting for that sort of thing than the actual climax. It is admittedly a little sweet that the plot resolves when immortal conductor guy's plot is discovered and humanity reacts by rightfully pointing out that a crime has been committed, and hasten to help the Interstella gang find their way home, that's not normally how these plots go, but the slight nuance given to the abduction/humans are the villains plot is very heartening. Seeing our blue alien friends seen off as beloved heroes feels very correct, and similarly, their rediscovery of the joy of music and new role as interplanetary ambassadors is one of those "fuck yeah a better world is possible" things that I'll take a million times over more cynical Dark Forest scenarios.

Speaking of drag, though, the Too Long segment, feels a bit like a lengthy coda to the story we don't need, which is, coincidentally what I think about the song's role on the album as well. All the same, it must be said that while the final showdown by immortal conductor's guy in psychedelic FTL space is pretty cool, and while it still doesn't work for me, Guitar Spaceship Guy helping out the Crescendolls one final time from beyond the grave does endear me ever so slightly to that whole subplot.

Interstella 5555 is an interesting watch, it's clearly a project of way more creative freedom than most animated fare is allowed to be, and it's wild that I can say the phrase "it's also exciting that the movie straight out states that Mozart, Ella Fitzgerald and... I believe Flea of Red Hot Chilli Peppers (?) all were sacrificed to Space Satan." This isn't important to the plot at all, but I feel it just needed to be said. So in short, check it out. Among it's many strengths, the soundtrack kicks some serious ass.

#daft punk #interstella 5555 #film friday

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destiny-in-the-universe · 4 months

Text

Internverse (RC9GN AU) [Name Subject to Change]

Lovely timezone, my dreamers!

So, I blame the constant brainrot I have somehow developed for a ridiculously dead fandom (but we continue to exist lol). The idea, however, is not entirely my own and I do have to give credit where its due (it simply wouldn't be possible without @7-inches-of-satanic-panic having made a post about it and i simply decided to write something for it!)

Now, to explain this AU- canon divergent storyline- it mostly follows McFist and Viceroy (it was Viceroy pfft) coming up with a new plan on capturing the ninja which leads to them creating an internship program in an attempt to unmask the city's 'vigilante'. By the power of well-placed plot logic, and because well, it'd honestly fit the theme- Randy's accepted as an intern and begins working at McFist Industries as he's using the opportunity to figure out the evil duo's next steps but of course, the question remains: what happens if he gets caught?

Unable to easily back out, Randy is left having to complete the internship and if he happens to be enjoying himself a little, that would be a lie- what are you talking about?

Now everything after this is my own interpretation!

Everything takes a sudden turn because Randy isn't exactly the most qualified, but at the same time- i feel he does have some range of skills that McFist and Viceroy could be interested in. ADHD! Randy taking an interest in math for instance? Absolutely, but now he's literally interning for his archenemies and for the time being, the Sorcerer isn't as major of a villain as he would be in the canon; anyway, moving on-

Randy doesn't really seem to find anything amiss and mostly spends his time interning under Viceroy as McFist is, well, McFist- but things get interesting when he (Randy) ends up in the radar of McFist who's a bit suspicious and comes to the conclusion that Randy might be the Ninja due to the type of slang he uses- (which becomes dismissed by Viceroy because apparently Randy is a bit clumsy, and how could someone like that ever be the Ninja, amirite? /lh)

Though I also like to imagine at least Randy and Viceroy bond because, well, who wouldn't be slightly interested in the new technology Viceroy's developed for video games? Honestly- this might be partially inspired by me having read other AU's where Viceroy sort of adopts Randy and I will get my dues with this pfft, but anyway-

At some point, things get tense because Randy mysteriously vanishes when a robot attacks the city, and now has to come up with a plausible excuse to why he left McFist Industries-

(author's cut: i might either write this as a long one-shot or it's going to be a multi-chaptered work where it explores dynamics a little bit more and may gain more 'lore' behind it so to speak)

Headcanons + Thoughts

~ To fit the theme a little, Randy is something of a math prodigy- though it's not something he made an effort in showing before and it's due to this he's accepted into the internship program

~ Personally the program is only meant to last the course of a single month since it's mostly to unravel the Ninja's identity, but things kind of... derail- because Randy does have his skills and Viceroy's curious

~ Randy is peak ADHD in this; I can cover everything about it in a separate post (but basically- he can't sit still for longer than five minutes and is always fidgeting with something)

~ McFist isn't a total idiot and he suspects something strange about Randy, but it's mostly him realizing that Randy uses the same sort of slang as the Ninja- even attempting to bring this idea to Viceroy, though it's not enough

~ All of the expenses are paid for- including lodging in order to make the internship seem more legitimate (and it is, it's also a ploy to capture the Ninja but no one needs to know that)

~ Bash and Randy? We'll see where this goes, but they'll definitely have interactions with Bash being McFist's stepson and well, Randy's interning so they're bound to see each other repeatedly

~ the Sorcerer isn't an overarching element in this as he would be in canon, but he might get cameos- or it's something introduced in the second half of the series to keep things interesting, genuinely we'll have to see

~ if there is going to be reveal, I honestly want the suddenly dawning realization that the Ninja is a teenager- that it's not something to be taken lightly, and while McFist may honestly ignore it, Viceroy certainly will not (and that's all I'm saying on the matter right now)

~ what lesson am i going to be using for this? i'm honestly on the fence of whether i use a preexisting one, or if this is going to be something entirely new Randy's facing-

~ for the sake of how things are going to run, Randy's family is absent during this- i do think he either lives with another relative (half-credit to @7-inches-of-satanic-panic since it's possible it could be an aunt acting as his surrogate mom? or the hc i've talked about before- that his parents are just constantly working and busy, and tend to neglect Randy a lot)

Under-the-Cut Information (+ Thoughts)

I am definitely treating this as a more lighthearted story, but there's going to be serious elements because there isn't a single way that Randy's completely fine being the Ninja and sure, he does love it, though there's got to be an emotional toll happening he isn't realizing (we've seen this in canon, it isn't out of the realm of possibility)

I do want to say that I am using neurodivergent and LGBTQ+ headcanons and elements in this piece, and if that's going to be a problem- please, find something else to read

I'm going to explore the depth of Randy's personality as he genuinely should've gotten more development and I felt his character had a weird... switch during the second season-? Like, it still felt like him but he also could be a massive jerk for seemingly no reason and then regret his actions as if this isn't the most adhd coded kid i have ever seen in my life, it would explain a lot

might play around with character designs? i'm not sure yet honestly-

currently the au will be titled intern randy au until further notice, so if you want to follow the story- the tag is #internrandyau

That is all I've got for now!

Mod Danny (They/Them)

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machiavellli · 4 months

Text

I watched the two first episodes of 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓐𝓬𝓸𝓵𝔂𝓽𝓮 and I got thoughts:

SPOILERS BELOW

First of all I just would like to say that most of the negative reviews that I saw where pretty thrown around just beacuse haters can’t help themself. So I don’t think this is the “worst sw product ever1!1!”, but I do got some (constructive) criticism myself and I want to express MY opinions (I am allowed to have and share them).

Let’s start with the positive aspects of this show

Fighting scenes and choreographies:

I was really impressed by the actions sequences. I’m glad that at least in this aspect Star Wars (after whatever happened in the sequels) is putting more effort in creating more impressive fighting scenes, but in the specific lightsaber fights!

Even if, yes, the lightsabers haven’t been used as much as I hoped, I still found this fighting style really mesmerizing. Now I’m not a martial art expert, so I won’t comment on that, but I just want to say that I do find this style way more appropriate than actually using a lightsaber all the time. It just makes sense for a Jedi of that time to minimize their usage of their weapon. They are at a high point of history, there is no war, just (apparent) peace.

I was afraid that the jumps would weird me out, but I gotta say that I liked them!!

How they showcased the temple and the characterization of the Jedi:

First thing first: ANOTHER LIVE ACTION TEMPLE OTHER THAN THE ONE IN THE CAPITAL???? Miracle!!! (Even if the interior design was questionable but I think they are just very isolated jedis and that’s their style? Idk man, there was literal sand in a corner tho??)

I appreciated how they showed Jedis as humans.

Sol is a jedi at heart yes, he is clearly suffering at the idea of his former padwan in such position, but he stays focused. Also I do get the comparison with Qui Gon, especially at the end of episode 2 when he tries to stick to the hunt, going against the council decision, but he still follows their leading in the end. But anyway, do not attack my new Star Wars father figure‼️

Yord also has his heart in the right place, I’m sure of it, he just wishes to help, but it’s clear that in this desperate search for perfection (brotha quoted the code by memory and was ironing his clothes for AN OUTSIDE MISSION💀 ) he might be losing what being a Jedi actually means. He always being the one to reach his lightsaber first :(( I’m really interested in seeing his development!

Jecki my smart girl, please humble Yord more often, that was the funniest part in the two episodes. I just want to say that her being 18 and going on her FIRST mission is so special and heartbreaking for me, just think the comparison with Ahsoka becoming a soldier at 14.

I also really liked the fact that the two Jedis killed got killed by their own compassion. Perfect.

Osha character:

Maybe it’s obvious, maybe not, but IN MY OPINION (so far) she is the best written character of the whole show (this actually comes from a critic that I have about the writing of the show, but it’s not the case for this character!)

Maybe it’s also that she is genuinely so sweet for me, I DONT KNOW I GET THIS VIBE FROM HER OKAY?? But she is the character I enjoyed the most in those first two episodes.

It’s just that I feel like we got to see only one side of the other characters, while with Osha she already feels like a well rounded character. We see her in various situations, in various states of mind, from the fear and then the calm of meeting her former master, to being taken by the negative feelings, the rage, she still preserves from her past. It was a great spectrum.

Also she was standing way more out as her own character than any one else in the show (see writing criticism below) and I liked that.

The actress was often carrying the show when put side to side with the other characters. (I’m under the impression that not everyone was giving their best performance tbh…but Amandla Stenberg was great!)

Really interested to see how the whole trauma/I just found my presumed dead twin alive/the Jedis I left are back thing will play out of her.

Also shoutout to Star Wars for continuing the tradition of the main character with a new cute droid. Gotta be one of my favourite tropes 🙏

Love this duo<333

In between opinions

I’m not going to comment on the plot YET, I find that it’s too early, but I was surprised by the decision of reveling the twin plot right away?

I was expecting it to be one the main thing that they would dance around for the whole series, but maybe I was under the wrong impression. It’s just that it felt rushed. But that’s a problem that comes down the fact that those episodes are TOO SHORT!!

I wasn’t also pleased by the fact that MASTER Indara died with that tiny knife in her chest. Like okay, maybe it was directly through the heart, but still: it doesn’t feel justified. Star Wars needs to decide a common trajectory, we can have people that survive a light saber in their stomach and others that die from far less concerning attacks. Also Osha surviving a terrible crash without a scratch?? Uhm.

Fire in space, gotta be my favorite mistake in space fiction products🙏 (I know that math and physics ain’t USA favorite subjects but cmonnnnnn, even Star Trek did this and uh😭😭). But anyway, I wouldn’t count it as this big mistake that everyone is freaking out about, because again, it’s common (somehow), and also was need for the trauma moment. 👍

But…25 MILIONS for episode, 12’500$ PER SECOND. We could have done better uh🧍‍♀️

And on this last bitter tone…

Negative aspects (it was bound to happen sorry)

The writing:

I have two main bones to pick at:

The quality of the lines,

Every character (besides Osha) is missing a speech pattern, some characterization…

I personally found the their speech to be not as cured as I was hoping for a show that had 4 years of development.

“Attach me with all of your strength” I literally heard in my head: 🦗🦗🦗

Sorry but some of Mae lines especially weren’t it (kinda funny when I actually enjoyed Osha’s)

Also yes, the characters were missing characterization through the dialogue, which is pretty crucial when you are showcasing brand the characters that no one knows. I just wished they weren’t so flat in that aspect.

I especially had a weird feeling with Sol, I do like him, but some of the lines weren’t it. I think it was also a bit the delivery, but I don’t want to attack the actor.

I wish their words were more expressive. Painted by their personality.

The poem was okay, this one ⬇️

I found it cute, but nothing too crazy

(Also side note that I don’t know where to put: the little twin looked like the Snapchat baby filter. Idk you can’t change my mind😭)

Also the pace of the storytelling per se: it felt rushed but at the same time slow, because I’m sorry but the delivering was a tad boring. I was expecting more.

To sum up: I was expecting more (I’ll say this till the end 180M budget) from the writing 🧍‍♀️

Costumes:

Before you all attack me: I did liked them, but with that budget I was expecting more. Let me explain

I really liked that they changed clothes when they went outside, leaving the white and yellow for the more ceremonials acts (like studying) for then changing for the outside. I loved that touch. In particular Yord attire in his first scenes was so good

I like their outfit so much (I hope the dope Padawan returns btw🧎‍♀️)

But, because there is a but, there is something weird about their clothings.

Now, I know that I am a prequels apologist and all, but you see how well clothes fit there:

They look realistic here, garments that have been actually worn

It’s just that their clothes look like they are sitting on them (have you in mind when people say “oh this foundation is sitting on my face” yeah in that sense, in the sense that doesn’t melt well)

NOOO IVE FINISHED THE GIFS LIMIT. TUMBLR UGH- (no more cool gifs guys😔)

It’s not a huge problem, but I wanted to say it regardless.

The set and lighting:

It’s just that for that type of budget and for that amount of time I was expecting some cinematic level of show. Maybe my bad (again), but the set looked often plastic and the lighting wasn’t really helping either.

Some scenes were well done: the ones in the Coruscant temple, the shore and in the bar/restaurant at the beginning were well done.

But especially the set in the second episode did not impress me at all.

Final thoughts:

Thanks Star Wars for making BTS canon🙏🙏 (THE TATTOO TOOK ME OUT OK?)

It’s hard to judge on just those two episodes, I feel like they haven’t told much, but for now I can only say that I will keep watching, without expecting too much (even if I should given the cost of the show).

I was interested in this project because I was excited to see the high republic in live action, but I don’t think this show will portray the typical high republic type of Jedis, something in between. I just hope that for once they will treat the jedi nicely because they can’t ever take a break in this franchise uh😭

Also I got a question…because if the Sith have been extinct for a millennium, according to the Jedi in the movies, by the time of the phantom menace…how will all of this play out??

Will they all die and the Jedis will just hide the evidence? But what about Yoda (or Yaddle)? Okay that he is chilling away but doesn’t make much sense…anyway I think I’ll have my answer by the end of the show.

Overall vote: 6/10 (a tad more than sufficient, I’m not feeling generous tonight🧍‍♀️)

It’s not a bad show, absolutely, I was just expecting more. It still has time to redeem itself!

#MY OPINIONS‼️‼️#(you don’t have to agree!)#this took more than I anticipated #I probably missed some stuff but anyway…#the acolyte #Star Wars #acolyte

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