#and the fact that he just so casually added it to conversation without giving any details | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starry-eyes-love · 5 days

Text

Part 2 of Too Young to Die Mini Series

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Too Young to Die- Mini Series Part 2 out of 3.

Pairing | Massage Therapist Joel Miller x F!Reader with Autoimmune disease, no outbreak, AU.

Summary | Joel takes you on your first date, where you eat pizza and joke together. Quickly, Joel finds out what it looks like to deal with an unmanaged autoimmune disorder. Joel, never faltering, stays by your side the whole way. Fast-forward to three years later, and Joel still helps you deal with the complexities of your body as life changes forever.

Banner image by CAImages on Instagram, banners by @saradika-graphics

Word Count: 6.7K

Warnings | Series is: 18+, Smut, Minors DNI (but no smut in this part)

Language, joking, pizza eating with odd topping choices, hints of smut without any smut, kissing, illness, fainting, pregnancy, boyfriend! Joel, husband! Joel, age gap, no major descriptions of the reader except she is younger and has autoimmune disease.

A/N: This took me way too long to finish writing this part. I found that I kept adding more to the story. I love these two goofballs, so strap in for some fun and relaxing banter, with a few surprises along the way :)

Your first date with Joel went exceptionally well. Conversation flowed easily amongst you where there weren't any awkward moments. Joel teased you for liking pineapple on your pizza, and you teased him for liking anchovies.

“Darlin’, you just ruin perfectly good pizza if y’do all that.”

“Well, at least I don’t put dead fish on my pizza, Joel.”

“Look here. I don’t want to hear any more sass from you, considering you put pineapple on your pizza and add marinara sauce.”

Joel shook his head, clearly not thrilled with your pizza flavor choice. He also saw you dip your pizza into the ranch and then take a huge bite, humming to yourself at the flavor choice. Joel looked over at you, shocked like you were someone who had sprouted three heads.

“Darlin’, now you've gone and done it. Completely ruined the American way of eating pizza.” Joel was staring at you wide-eyed as you placed buffalo ranch sauce on top of your pizza. He was trying to figure out how a beautiful woman like yourself would have the oddest taste in food.

“Mr. Miller, I don't recall you being an expert at pizza toppings. If you were, the fact that you place anchovies on your pizza makes your entire argument invalid.”

Joel laughed out loud at your attitude and shook his head. He loved the easy banter between you two.

“You know, it's a good thing I find you cute, darlin', or I'd have to remind you just how much my argument has merit.”

“And what type of merit would that be, Mr. Miller, because there is none in this instance.”

“Well, baby, if you insist.” Joel sat up straight, placing his pizza slice down to continue. “Fish is healthy and nutritious; it gives you plenty of stamina for any extracurricular activities you want or need to do. Plus, it also makes certain things taste sweeter, too.”

“It doesn't make things taste sweeter, Joel; that's a lie. Pineapple is the one that makes things taste sweeter.”

“So, is that why you ordered pineapple on your pizza, darlin’? You wanted to make sure things tasted sweeter for me later?” Joel smirked at you, raising an eyebrow, knowing the offhanded sexual comment he had just made.

You sat in silence, feeling your cheeks flush a nice soft red. You had no idea that Joel was going to take it there, to a sexual place. You weren't mad at his flirtatious comment; you were just sexually flustered. It has been a long time since any man has given you any amount of attention. You found yourself shifting in your seat, trying to alleviate the slow throbbing that had started between your legs at the casual flirting and banter with Joel. When Joel saw this reaction, he knew that he had gotten under your skin, which was the purpose of his comment in the first place.

“Why ya squirming, baby?”

You just looked at Joel with a soft blush on your cheeks. You didn’t want to tell him that your stomach was in knots and that you were getting more and more turned on by him sitting in front of you.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, wondering if your discomfort was caused by his teasing or if you truly were in pain. The longer he looked at you, the more concerned he became. He could see that you were worrying your lip, eyes cast downward like you were focusing on something.

“Darlin', are you still with me?” Joel asked, seeing that you didn't answer his question, the one he just asked if your discomfort was due to feeling ill. You never heard him because you weren't listening. You were too focused on your hands, twirling your napkin between your fingers and fidgeting, overthinking things again. Will Joel even want me that way, or will he leave just like all the others?

“Hey, honey, I was just teasing about your pizza topping choice. Just joking, you can eat it any way you like, darlin’.” Joel touched your hand affectionately, trying to bring you back to the present.

“I know, it's just- what happens when all of this gets too hard?” You said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“What? What do you mean, too hard?” Joel was now sitting back and looking at you with a puzzled expression. He was trying to figure out why you suddenly changed your mood. Two seconds ago, Joel was teasing you about your pizza topping choice. You both were relaxed, enjoying each other's company, teasing each other back and forth. But now, the confident woman that Joel had seen just a few seconds ago was gone. He frowned at your sudden change, finding it difficult to remain optimistic about the night's events.

Joel didn't tell or show you he was nervous about tonight's date. He thought that you were beautiful, even though you were much younger. You were on a different path in life. You were 29, looking at living life and planning for your future, while Joel was 47, divorced, and looking towards retirement and potentially becoming a grandfather in the next ten years with two kids that were almost entirely grown up.

Joel has never attempted to date a woman 18 years younger than him; you were the first. Joel didn't know if you could relate to him or if he could relate to you. But the longer you interacted with him, the more he felt at ease. That was until he heard your comment about something being too complicated. It was unsettling to him, especially when his love life and family life were the true definition of what complicated meant.

“Joel, I mean, you, me, and all of this. What happens when all of this gets too complicated?” You were waving your arms around, motioning at the two of you and your surroundings.

“Oh, yeah, I see. Uh, I can understand how this can all be difficult for you or complicated.” Joel felt his heart sink in his chest; he needed to end this before it got any further and before you got any more embedded into his life to hurt him. If you weren't looking for a relationship, he should cut his losses and end it with you. If you didn't like complicated, then you wouldn't like him. His entire life was complicated. Joel had baggage and a lot of it. He didn't want to lead you on if you weren't looking for some type of commitment because he wasn’t looking for anything casual.

“Look, darlin’, if you're not sure, then maybe we should just-”

“I like you a lot, ok? I haven't dated in a while, but you make me feel safe. And no one has done that in a long time. No one ever wants the complications of me being sick, so I get it if you don't, but I want this to work. I don't want you to hurt me, though, when you find out I'm not enough.” You raced the words out, feeling embarrassed for getting this out in the open, but from your past experiences, you knew that, eventually, this conversation would come up. You figured now was the best time to discuss this topic, especially before Joel embedded himself into your life. You didn't think Joel would want a serious relationship with you, being an older man. He probably wasn't looking for commitment, marriage, or kids. Those were things that you knew you wanted. What you didn't want was a one-night stand or a casual hookup. You can't separate sex from love, and you weren't about to start now, no matter how sexy the man was in front of you. You have always liked older men but never had anyone even care to look at you until now.

Joel was amazed at your admission and the guts it took to tell someone that, especially on the first date. But he was also frustrated at you cutting yourself down, saying that you weren't enough when you were. While Joel didn't diminish your feelings, being sick didn't count as a difficulty to him. Could it be a slight hindrance at times? It could, but it wasn't a deal breaker for him. Joel was more of a homebody now anyway, not really into the whole party scene and going out all the time. He didn't care if plans changed. He wasn’t a 20-year-old boy.

Joel reached across the table with a small smile and took your hand. He whispered, “Baby, that's never gonna happen,” as he gently kissed the top of your hand.

“No? How- how come?” You whispered. Your heart was beating fast in your chest as Joel slowly moved his fingertips lightly up and down the inside of your palm. The feather-light touches sent tingles down your spine, especially when he kissed and lightly nipped your wrist.

Joel needed to calm your and his nerves. While he didn't want to have this conversation now, he knew it was better to get these feelings out in the open so both parties could decide how to move forward. That was one thing he learned from his previous marriage: to speak your mind when something bothers you.

Joel stopped moving his hand and looked into your eyes. He could see a mixture of shyness, arousal, and what he thought was also fear; not fear of being with him, but fear of him leaving you. You both were broken inside from past relationships, wanting someone to see you for who you were. Joel didn't know how the future would evolve for the two of you; he just knew that his heart was beating fast in his chest, and butterflies were in his stomach because of the beautiful woman in front of him—someone he desperately wanted to get to know.

“You wanna know why I know that, honey?”

You gently nodded your head.

“It's because I like you a lot, too,” Joel confessed, intertwining his fingers with yours and gently stroking his thumb on your hand. “Honey, I know you're sick, but that won't stop me. We'll figure it out. I haven't felt like this in a long time with a woman, and I’d be a damn fool if I didn't continue seeing you because of it. I don't want casual honey; I want an honest-to-God, committed relationship.”

Joel slowly reached forward and tucked a strand of your hair that fell out of your ponytail behind your ear. He gently cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “So stop fussin', ok? We'll figure it out; it's just you and me, alright?”

You nodded your head, exhaling the breath that you were holding. Joel squeezed your hand once more as he got up to go and throw away both of your trash. As you watched Joel walk away, you knew that you made an excellent decision by agreeing to go on this date with him. You just hoped he was telling you the truth.

After talking for the next hour, you decided to walk to a nearby park. As you slowly walked, Joel reached out and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. It felt so good to have him hold your hand. You could see that he was trying and wanted this to work as much as you did. It made your heart race and your head feel dizzy at the thought that someone actually and truly cared about you and wanted to be with you.

The two of you talked about Joel's life before he became a massage therapist. He told you that he was a construction worker who owned his own business before he hurt his back. After a year of treatment, including painful back surgery to remove a few bulged disks, Joel had to leave that line of work and sell his business to Tommy, his younger brother, who still manages it today in Texas.

“How did you end up in Minnesota, then?” You had asked as you both sat on a bench, eating ice cream from the small ice cream truck nearby.

“Well, that’s kinda a funny story, really,” Joel commented as he stole a bite of your chocolate ice cream, and then you stole a bite from his plain vanilla one. “My daughters, Sarah and Ellie, live in lower Michigan with their mother, my ex-wife.” He paused, seeing if this admission of being divorced and having kids would be an issue for you. When you looked at him curiously, seeing that you wanted him to continue, he told you the rest of the story.

“Well, Tess, my ex-wife, took a job in Michigan when I was 28 when we got divorced. At the time, she had completely signed custody of the girls over to me. When I hurt my back when I was 32, she took me back to court and requested custody changes.”

“What kind of custody changes?” You slowly placed your spoon down from your ice cream. The cold was starting to give you a headache, and you began to feel sick again with your autoimmune.

“Well, she felt I couldn't care for the girls properly because I was injured and healing from back surgery. According to her, I wasn’t working, yet I still owned my business and received paychecks from it. But still, to her, I wasn’t a father who could provide well enough for our girls, which was untrue.”

When Joel looked up at you, he was immediately concerned. You were starting to look pale on your face, and you were beginning to sweat. “She felt she was a better-fit parent to raise our girls, and the court sided with her.”

“What? How?” You couldn't understand how a judge would find him unfit as a parent just because he had back surgery and was injured.

“Well, that’s where it gets interesting. The man she was dating at the time, secretly dating, was the judge who ruled in her favor.”

“Oh my God, Joel. That is- that’s fucking horrible.” You reached out and gently squeezed his hand. You were trying to stay focused, but you kept having moments of dizziness mixed with horrible pain in your back and joints. Your body was suddenly starting to give you a flare-up of your autoimmune symptoms. You always hated it when your body did this, but right now, you were embarrassed because this was not what you wanted on your first date with Joel.

Joel noticed that you were getting worse and more pale in the face. You had officially removed your sweater, and he could see that you were sweating profusely.

“Honey, are you ok? You're not looking good.”

“No, I'm fine. I just need some water, and then I'll be okay.”

Joel got up and bought two bottles of water from the ice cream stand where you two were sitting. When he returned, he handed you one of the bottles and told you to drink. You murmured, “Thanks,” and then asked him to continue his story.

He smiled slightly at you as you murmured you were feeling a little better to him.

“Well, one thing led to another, and I sold my business and returned to school to get my massage therapist license. I wanted to help people with injuries or chronic diseases that make it difficult for them. I had a few back surgeries again along the way, three to be exact, all here in Minnesota with a specialist. I had to live here for an entire year after my last surgery. Tess said that if I were willing to live here full time, she would be okay with letting the girls come every other weekend, during holiday breaks, and then stay with me every summer. So that’s what I did; I moved here to see my girls.”

“Is Tess still seeing that judge, then?” You took your sweater and wiped your forehead. You were now getting horrible hot flashes. You knew that if your body didn't quit, you'd have to end your date sooner with Joel than you wanted.

“No, Tess found out that the judge was married, and he said that he wasn’t leaving his wife for her. Kind of a perfect ending to a shitty situation, if you ask me.”

Joel knew something was wrong when he saw your face lose color and sweat dripping from your forehead.

“Darlin', you don't look well.” Joel knew your autoimmune was unmanaged and that you’d report getting these horrible symptoms when it flared up. But he didn’t expect this to come on so suddenly like this, and it worried him.

This was life with your autoimmune disease. You lived with this disease every day, and sometimes days were good. Other days, like today, made living life very difficult. You had been hoping this flare-up of symptoms would pass, but something was wrong; you could feel it.

“Joel, I'm sorry, I-I don't feel very well. I think I need to go home. I'm so sorry I-”

“No, darlin', don't apologize, it's okay. Come on, I'll take ya home.”

“No, I drove. I can-”

“Darlin', I'm not letting you drive home looking as sick as you are. Now come on honey, I'll drive ya, and we can pick up your car later, okay?”

Joel stood up and walked around the other side of the picnic table, where you were seated. You were mad, hating that your body did this to you. You mumbled, “Great, you blew it again, woman. Finally, get a nice guy, and this crap happens; good luck getting him to go out again with you.”

Joel heard what you said, and it upset him to think that your getting sick would bother him. Yes, it did bother him that you were ill. But not because it messed up the date you two were having, but because of how you looked; he wasn't comfortable just leaving you alone. You were so pale in the face, and you were struggling to stand that Joel was more concerned that you may need to go to the emergency room before the night was over.

As soon as Joel was by your side, he helped you stand. He took in your features and saw how suddenly weak you had become. Your hands had visible tremors, and you kept wincing and grabbing your back.

“Hey, honey, can you look at me briefly.” Joel gently took your hand and was looking at you in the eyes. “First, I don’t care what other people have done before me, darlin’. I’m telling you that I want another date with you, alright?”

When you nodded your head, he continued. “But, more importantly, I'm uncomfortable just dropping you off at home. Is there someone I can call that can stay with you?”

Shaking your head, you mumbled, “No, Joel, I don't have any family around.”

“What about friends? I'm sure you have some friends that care about you enough that they would come and sit with you tonight.”

When he watched you look down, lip trembling at his question, Joel knew that he had majorly fucked up. You, indeed, were alone. This illness took special people away from you at your age. You reminded Joel of a cancer patient going through treatment, especially with how fast the illness symptoms came on. He remembered his mom being like that before she died of cancer. It broke his heart to think that you were struggling through life with this illness and that no one in these moments cared enough about you. He knew you had friends, as you talked about them earlier. But apparently, those friends were only surface-level friends, and when difficult moments like this happened, they were nowhere around.

“Oh baby, c’mere.”

Joel pulled you into his chest and held you for a moment. “How about this, darlin’, I’ll take you home and stay the night with you. Don't worry. I'll sleep on the couch or the floor if you don't have a couch.”

You just nodded, but as you turned to leave, something in the world must have happened because it felt like the Earth tilted on its axis. As soon as you took a step, your vision went blurry, your face hit the ground hard, and you didn’t remember anything after that. You had fainted.

As you turned to leave, Joel grabbed your water bottles and sweater. As soon as he turned back around, it was like slow motion happened for him. Joel watched you take two steps towards the exit, and then all color left your face as your eyes rolled back into your head. You fell to the ground like a ton of bricks. As soon as he saw that you were collapsing, he mumbled “shit” under his breath and then was moving fast to get to your side.

“Baby, come on. Open your eyes for me. Come on, baby, can you open your eyes? Darlin', look at me.” Joel was kneeling on the ground, lightly tapping your cheek. He was trying to get you to wake up after your fainting episode. As soon as you started to come back around, you began coughing horribly. Joel quickly turned you on your side, rubbing your back as you kept coughing.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I’m right here, slow breaths, come on now.” He was gently holding your head as you lay on your side, coughing and struggling to breathe after your fainting episode.

“Hey man- is she ok?” another man yelled, approaching the two of you.

“Yeah, maybe we need to call an ambulance,” a woman shouted as she quickly approached.

When he heard a third person add their two cents about the situation, Joel's patience had officially expired.

“Yeah, I saw the whole thing happen. She just collapsed, and her father rushed to her side,” another man yelled approaching.

“STOP,” Joel yelled. Glancing down, he saw you wince at everyone’s statements and try to hide your face. This was the last thing you needed: a crowd of people telling you what to do.

“I’m a medical professional, and I have it under control. I’m also her boyfriend, NOT her father, ok? She’s awake now, and she’s done coughing. She stated she didn’t feel well before she turned around. I was going to take her home, and then this happened.”

“Well, I still think she needs an ambulance called. I’m going to-”

“For the love of God, please leave me alone; I'm fine now,” you snapped, turning more on your side to cover your face. You were so embarrassed for fainting in front of Joel and for the crowd that was now gathering around you.

“We were just trying to help; no need to be rude,” one woman said, snapping at your comment.

“Thank you for your concern and help,” Joel said, looking at the woman who snapped at you. “I honestly thought for a moment that I may have needed to call an ambulance for her. But as you can see, she’s ok. I’ll look after her and take her in tonight if she needs to be seen. Is that alright, honey?”

You gently nodded your head, looking up at him. Joel was holding you close to him, helping you feel safe.

“Y’all go home now. We got it under control. Thanks for offerin’ to help.”

People were mumbling as they started to disperse. Joel and you never paid attention to what they were saying.

“Do you think that we can get you to sit up without you passing out on me again?”

Joel gently cupped your cheek, looking straight into your eyes with concern. He didn’t like seeing you sick like this. You gently nodded your head at him as you went to sit up.

“Easy. Nice and slow, sweetheart, don’t rush it.” When Joel saw your eyes start to cross again, he thought he should have let that lady call you an ambulance.

“Woah there honey, come on now, look at me. Do I gotta call an ambulance for you after all, 'cause I will darlin’?” Joel placed his hand on your cheek, looking at you in the eyes. He was shifting his eyes back and forth, looking to see how you were responding.

“I’m fine, Joel. Just give me a minute, ok. If I need an ambulance, I’ll call one myself.”

Joel shook his head, disagreeing with you. “Darlin’, I don’t think you’re qualified to make that determination and decision right now.”

You let out a long and exhausted sigh. To Joel's defense, he didn't know where you worked full-time when you were feeling ok.

“Joel, this is said with as much love and appreciation as I can right now, but fuck off, please. Believe it or not, I’m a Paramedic, and I know-”

“Paramedic or not, passing out and being dizzy doesn’t qualify you to treat yourself. You know this.” Joel hated reminding you of one of the biggest lessons in medicine: you don't treat yourself. He could see you were slightly annoyed and irritated with him and the other bystanders here. He decided that maybe a little humor might help lighten the tense mood.

“For the record, darlin’. I believe the proper term is ‘fuck me, please.’ And you say it when I’m doing just that.”

That made you smile and laugh at the ridiculous statement of telling off the one man still beside you. With a little bit of sass, you also added, “Yeah, and then when we’re finished, you'll moan; ah, fuck, my back.”

“Ah, there she is. There’s my sassy girl.” Joel was now laughing at your sassy attitude and statement that you just made.

Joel looked down at you tenderly. Even though you were ill, you were still so beautiful. Joel cupped your cheek, slowly running his thumb up and down your skin. He watched you bite your lip, looking from his eyes to his lips. Tension started to fill between you both. The air was thick with it. Joel moved his hand to the back of your head, gently cradling it. He placed his forehead against yours, exhaling slowly, trying to control himself. He envisioned you underneath him but knew he couldn't tonight, not with you feeling under the weather. But soon, he'd take you in his bed and show you how a real man cared about a woman. But right now, he could give you something else. Joel slowly leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, soft, and passionate.

When your lips parted slightly, he deepened the kiss, licking into your mouth and massaging his tongue against yours. When the kiss picked up in intensity, soon, you both were wrestling your tongues together, fighting to hold yourselves back. You let out a little whimper, moaning slightly into his mouth as your tongues continued to dance together. Eventually, when he pulled back, you found that you both were gasping for air.

“Baby, I'll take pain in my back any day if it means that I get to kiss you and hear you moan like that when I fuck you.”

“Joel, please-”

“Later baby, later. I promise when you're feeling better. Now, come on, let's get you home.”

You didn’t know how you lucked out and won the lottery with the man standing before you. But goddamn, you were the richest girl in the world, especially when he kissed you like that. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you return to his truck to take you home. You didn't know then, but that would be the last first date you'd ever be on.

3 Years Later

Joel was sitting in his office, finishing up some much-overdue paperwork. He glanced up when he heard you enter, giving you a warm smile at seeing you. But when you didn't return it, he knew something was wrong. You looked exhausted, like you hadn't slept much, yet today was your day off.

“Are you ready to go, babe?” You were not trying to sound irritated, but you failed miserably.

You were uncomfortable, 32 weeks pregnant with Joel's child, a daughter, and she had spent all day kicking you hard in your internal organs. You were tired and frustrated, really not in the mood for grocery shopping with your husband. So when you got up to Joel's desk, you leaned back against it, placing your hand on your swelling stomach. You were trying to ease some of your discomfort. But as you did, you felt your daughter pick up with the constant kicks again. Usually, her kicks would give you comfort and joy, but not today. Today, your feet were aching, your back was hurting, and you were exhausted. You just wanted to lay down and rest today, but every time you attempted to, your daughter would give you hard, steady kicks against your internal organs.

“I’m almost done, sweetheart, then we'll go.” Joel smiled, quickly finishing up with his final notes from today.

Next week was Joel's 50th birthday, so this weekend, you wanted to throw him an outdoor barbeque with his closest friends and family to celebrate his birthday. You wanted to go shopping tonight for all the supplies for this weekend, and Joel agreed to go with you to help you pick out the items he wanted. He was looking forward to the barbeque, and you were too about three months ago when you first planned it. Now, you weren't too keen on the idea of hosting 30 people in your backyard when you were 32 weeks pregnant.

You let out another long sigh, feeling the weight of life once again kick the hell out of you. You reminded yourself that this is what you wanted, a baby to grow inside you. But right at this moment, you wanted to go back to the night Joel fucked you to conceive this little fire pistol and hit your husband right in the nuts.

“You know there, little one, you can stop kicking Mama so damn hard for once, and just quiet down, please.” You slowly rubbed your belly where you were feeling a fluttering of kicks. When Joel heard your discomfort, he immediately put his pen down and sat back in his chair.

“Baby, come here.”

You slowly shuffled over to your husband, standing between his widened legs, then gently leaned yourself back against his desk. As soon as you took up your proper standing position, Joel immediately took his hands and gently held each side of your belly, feeling his daughter kick both of you.

“Shh there, baby girl, don’t be so hard on your mama. Daddy missed you today.” Joel slowly leaned forward and kissed your belly several times while his daughter kicked.

You had a huge baby belly at 32 weeks pregnant and in your last trimester. If people looked at you from behind, they'd never know you were pregnant. But from the front, it looked like you swallowed a giant basketball. So, to put it mildly, you were exhausted.

Joel and you had been married for almost two years when you popped positive on a pregnancy test. You both weren’t trying for a baby. She came to you as a surprise, and you were so happy to have her. You had stopped your birth control the night of your wedding, hoping to get pregnant. But after two years and a lot of tests, you had given up on the ability to have kids. The doctors said that your body wasn’t accepting pregnancy because of your autoimmune disease. So you went on with life thinking that you couldn’t get pregnant at all. Then, by some miracle, the first night that you and Joel spent in the new house that you had built, he fucked you on every available surface, knocking you up somewhere between the kitchen counter and the coffee table. But now, as you rapidly approached your due date, you found yourself struggling with horrible exhaustion with the simple things in life like walking. You were lucky that your autoimmune disease had calmed down so much during pregnancy, a hidden fail-safe that most people didn’t know about. The problem was delivery day was rapidly approaching, and you were scared about what would happen with your autoimmune after your daughter came out. But today, you didn't concern yourself with those fears, as you were exhausted at the fact that she wouldn’t let you hardly sleep last night nor relax anytime today.

“Babe, what’s the matter?” Joel had stopped kissing your stomach and was now cautiously looking at his wife. You were breathing fast with your eyes closed.

“Honey, are you ok?” Again, you did not respond. Joel called your name, but you never opened your eyes. Your eyes were closed as your breathing became erratic.

“Hey, come on, look at me. Baby, open your eyes and look at me.”

“Jesus Joel, what?”

Joel's heart was in his throat at your lack of responding to him for a moment. He still didn't like how you were breathing, but at least now you were looking at him. He could see that you were frustrated, so he ignored that you snapped at him.

“Honey, talk to me, what's the matter?” Joel slowly rubbed your belly as he felt your daughter kick again. Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and exhaustion being evident.

“I’m fine, it's just, it’s hard today, alright?” You placed your head in your hands as you felt your pregnancy hormones take over, and a light sob escaped your mouth.

Pregnancy hormones were complex every day, but today, they were awful. You hated the constant need of wanting your husband to be inside of you. You were horny for him, sex being something you haven't done in a few weeks again because of scheduling conflicts. But your daughter was constantly beating every organ inside of you, turning your need for your husband into something you couldn't do yet again. You were so exhausted today and just feeling so overwhelmed with life.

“Woah there, Angel, come on, talk to me. Baby, why are you crying? Are you getting contractions, honey?” Joel lowered his hand, trying to feel if contractions were starting anywhere on your belly.

“No, it's just she’s been kicking like this all day.”

When Joel realized your tears were out of the pain of kicks, and not contractions, and mostly frustration, he felt himself calm down. Joel gently rubbed your belly, trying to calm your daughter down.

“She's been kicking you all day like this, hasn't she?”

“Yes,” you winced as your daughter sucker punched the heck out of your ribs once again, causing you to wince and call out in pain.

“Woah, there, little lady, that was a powerful kick. How about we save those punches for when boys wanna come around later in life, huh? Give your mama a break and let her rest.”

Joel crouched down and kissed your belly again, talking to his daughter and trying to get her to quiet down for you. When he felt a strong kick against his mouth, he sat back and then scolded her.

“Excuse me there, Baby Miller, but kicking your daddy hard in the mouth isn't very nice. We'll have none of that behavior, young lady, ya hear me?”

“God, Joel, I love our daughter, but today, these kicks fucking hurt. I thought maybe you’d want me after shopping, but how do people do this?” You exhaled again as your daughter kicked your ribs on your other side, not as hard, but still a firm kick.

Joel slowly stood up and gently lifted your chin. When he spoke his next sentence, he wanted you to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Darlin’, don’t you ever question if I fucking want you, ya hear me. Baby, I always want you, day or night; it doesn't matter. And for the record, it isn’t me who needs any prep time to get in the mood; it's you. But with kicks like this, I’m assuming it’s a no again for any intimate time, which is okay.”

Joel raised his hands defensively, ensuring you understood that he didn’t expect anything from you. But when he turned to walk across the room to grab his raincoat, you mumbled sarcastically under your breath. “No, the real reason is I look like a stupid whale; that’s why you don’t want me.”

Hearing what you said, Joel immediately spun around and glared at you. He was upset you were talking down to yourself and how you looked. You were his wife, who was carrying his child, and god dammit, you weren't a whale, and he did want you. You were a sexy, beautiful, attractive woman, even while pregnant. Joel loved you, but your constant put-downs of yourself were starting to tick him off.

“What was that? What did y’say?”

“Nothin’,” you mumbled, knowing that Joel heard you criticize yourself. You knew you should have just kept your mouth shut.

Joel slowly approached you and placed his coat on the chair. You looked down, slowly biting your lip.

“No, little girl, eyes up here.” Joel gently grabbed your chin and tilted your head up. When your eyes met his, you saw that they were impossibly dark, pupils were blown wide with lust.

“First, darlin', you ain't a whale, so none of that. And second, you're my wife who's pregnant with my daughter; that's sexy by itself, baby. And for the record, I fucking want you.” Joel grabbed your ass and gave it a firm squeeze while slowly thrusting his hips against your closed heat. You could feel that he was already hard, but he didn’t rip off your clothes. That’s not what you needed right now, and you both knew that.

Joel slowly reached out and started stroking your belly lightly while gently tilting your head to give you a slow, tender kiss. However, very quickly you were the one to deepen the kiss, nipping his lower lip and shoving your tongue in his mouth. Joel growled at your heated kiss, struggling to keep his composure with you.

“Darlin', if we don't slow down, I won't be held responsible for what I will do. Do not tease me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth.

But you didn't want to listen, nipping Joel again on the lip, trying to provoke a heated reaction from him. As he went to give you a gentle tap on your ass and to rip your pants off, you let out a sudden cry in pain.

“Fuck, shit, ow.”

“Ok, darlin', enough horsing around, what's happening?” Joel snapped at you, no longer wanting to play this game of you not communicating with him when he could see your discomfort.

“It's your damn child kicking my freaking cervix Joel. God, why is she doing this today?”

“I don't know, baby, but how about we head home? I'll give you a massage and try to get her to calm down. You're stressed mama, and that's unhealthy for you and our daughter. Now come on, up we go.”

Joel made good on his promise to take you home and help you relax. About five minutes after he began massaging your belly, your daughter finally calmed down. Apparently, she just wanted a little attention from her daddy. About fifteen minutes after she settled in, you finally fell asleep, exhaustion winning. As Joel looked down at your resting form, all swollen and pregnant with his child, he smiled. Life was extraordinary, giving him the chance to have a family again, but this time when he was older and almost 50.

Joel made dinner and let you sleep the rest of the night. Later, as he lay next to your sleeping form, he felt his heart swell with affection and love for you. He reached out and gently touched your belly, feeling his daughter was finally calm and asleep. He stared at you in the dark, until his eyes felt heavy with sleep and he found himself drifting off to thoughts of you. Joel didn't care what people thought about whether he should be with you at such an older age. Joel was damn happy that you were in his life, and to believe that this all started because of a simple debate about pineapple on your pizza. And that was the best 50th birthday present ever: the chance to have happiness once again.

End Part 2

81 notes · View notes

randoimago · 1 year

Note

Aah, can I also request some letters for RK800 and RK900? M, S and Y, please!

Alphabet Headcanons

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Character(s): RK800 (Connor), RK900 (Nines)

Type of Request: Alphabet Headcanons

Note(s): Calling RK900 Nines just because I like that better than his model number!

M - Memory (what is their favourite memory with you?)

Connor

A favorite memory he thinks fondly of from time-to-time is when he went on a walk in the park with you. It's simple and the moment was on the casual side rather than romantic, but he noticed how relaxed and happy you looked.

The smile on your face and seeing you stress-free is kept in his memory banks. Sometimes, he finds himself smiling at the memory popping up out of nowhere.

Nines

It was after a chase with finding a deviant android, one that murdered for the sake of enjoying it than defense. Nines saw you retreat to the roof of the building and he followed you, curious as to what your intentions were. You ended up just talking, mentioning similar cases with humans. Nines added to your comments with logic and how faulty programming caused this.

Nothing romantic happened at all, but hours were spent just talking under the night sky and Nines ends up going back to that moment quite a bit, it was the first moment that he really felt that he got to see you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Connor

I feel like Connor would be very protective over you once he's reached deviancy. He realizes his feelings and doesn't like the idea of you being hurt in any way, but he also has to stop himself from rushing to your side every time because he knows that level of protectiveness could upset you too.

Connor would prefer to not resort to violence so he tries to be charming and sly as he gets you out of any uncomfortable situations. That doesn't mean he won't punch someone for you, but he is better with his words. And as such, he's very good with giving you compliments and cheering you up in those situations too.

He usually views other's well-being over his own so having his S/O take care of him makes him happy. He does remind you that it's unnecessary to comfort him, but the smile on his face shows that he very much enjoys it.

Nines

He doesn't realize his protectiveness to his S/O. Nines sees you in danger and he ignores his programming giving him a percentage of your safety as he goes to immediately help you without a thought.

He knows he's strong and physically capable to keep you safe, but then he sees you in emotion turmoil. Nines convinces himself that he's calming you so your performance doesn't jeopardize his, but he is fast to find information and read your tells to make sure you are okay.

Nines would never ask that you protect him. He's a machine and can't feel pain. But if you defend him in conversation or even just stay by his side when he needs you (not that he'd say he needs you) then that causes some system errors that he doesn't quite know how to handle.

Y - Yearning (how do they cope when they are missing you? are they alright with being without you for an extended period of time or would they prefer to be with you every day of their life without exception?)

Connor

Definitely is a bit of a puppy when it comes to his S/O being away. He tries to not let it affect his performance, but Hank is quick to call him out on it. He ends up getting his coin out more often or trying to find ways to occupy his mind as a small timer is going on in the back of his programming for when you'll be back.

Very much would prefer you to be around him all the time, but he also knows that would be unreasonable and illogical to ask for, so he just awaits for your return.

Nines

Nothing seems to change for Nines when his S/O is gone for a while. He still performs highly and functions just fine. Nothing really seems wrong except for the fact that he acts more like a machine while you're away.

He does miss you, but he can't let it get in the way of his work. Would request that you not leave so often or not be gone for too long as he wants to make sure you're by his side and not in danger of being hurt.

#kats alphabet headcanons #detroit become human x reader #dbh x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh nines x reader #rk800 x reader #rk900 x reader #connor x reader #nines x reader

458 notes · View notes

whatitsdecending · 7 months

Text

Chokehold: Pt. IV

Vessel x Reader x Noah Sebastian

Things have already become a little messy as you spend more time in the UK. Lies being made and overwhelming thoughts are occupying your mind, despite the need for that to not even exist.

A/N: I did not realize how quickly two weeks just flew by since I last updated… so here’s a longer part with some drama for all of you<3

Word Count: 6.3k

Content warning: instances of extreme anxiety and overthinking, distressing situations, sexual tendencies, harassment, violence

—————————

“Hey pretty girl, I’ve been waiting for you to call.” Hearing his voice on the other end nearly blindsided you. Although you were the one to initiate the call, him actually picking up is what had you nervous.

“Hey Noah.” You responded, running your hand under the water coming from the faucet to check the temperature. You heard the sound of him shuffling around, presumably in his bed due to what time it’d currently be in LA.

“Are you taking a bath right now?” He asked, you could hear the tone of his voice perk up. You roll your eyes, typical Noah. “What are you getting ready for?”

You sink into the warm water and sighed when it hit your sore cunt, knowing you’re going to be feeling all of that for the rest of the day and into tomorrow. “Nothing, I just needed to take a bath. So what’s up with the sudden urge to talk to me?” His chuckle echoed through your phone speakers and bounced around the bathroom walls, not even giving you a chance before you find yourself smiling at it.

“I miss you that’s why.” He eventually says. “How did that technology detox go? Feeling less whacked out on it?” You snorted as you remembered the excuse you told Noah yesterday after the plane landed, technology detox… how convincing.

“Yeah… feeling like I should read more now and empower my brain with that rather than a screen.” You cupped water in your hands and splashed it onto your shoulders, not wanting to fully sink into the tub because you know you’d never get out.

“Don’t you read enough already?” Noah’s serious tone wrapped around you like a glove. One of the many things that irked you a bit about him was how much he enjoyed poking fun at your hobby for reading. He’d never been the one to just sit down with one of the books you recommended and actually see why you liked it so much. “I think you need to get out of your apartment more. Maybe come spend some time out in LA with me?”

There it was.

You squeezed your eyes shut. He was so quick to say it too, he couldn’t at least ask how you’ve been first? You didn’t know how to respond and once again found yourself fumbling to put a sentence together. Your best choice would be to tell him the truth, every single piece of it too. But yet something nagged at you from the back of your mind, does he really deserve the truth?

“You’re a little late for that Noah.” You responded, taking the folded cloth on the edge of the tub and adding body wash to it and began to gently clean yourself.

“Of course I am, let me guess you’re away at your parents house?” Well, if you insist. The smile that tugged at your lips was devilish, knowing that this will become much easier without him having a clue.

“I am. I spent my technology detox catching up with them.” You hoped you were sounding convincing enough for Noah. He’s gotten pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to him, so you grit your teeth as you await his response.

A chuckle from the line filled the silence. “That’s good to hear, Y/N. I know you were missing them. Chicago is still looking nice this time of year?”

You laughed at his attempts to make such casual conversation with you, any kind of conversing the two of you did ended with him fucking you senseless. “It’s nice, a little cold. It’s snowing here too.” You looked out the window that was tucked away a bit in the bathroom, giving some form of privacy despite the fact that Vessel had no neighbors. The snow had stopped falling sometime ago but the white dust that covered every piece of nature outside was relaxing to stare at, especially now that Noah had brought up being home.

Home. You mentally punched yourself in the gut over the fact that you just hopped on a plane to go all the way to London to stay with a man you’d only seen in person once, but constantly forgot to make trips back home to see your parents. You didn't even tell them you were coming here… That’s going to have to be another phone call you make today.

“I’m sure the snow is nice right now.” Noah snickered a little over the line until you heard another voice that sounded like Jolly calling for him. “Ahh duty calls, I must help Jolly move some shit around.”

“Tell him I said hi please!” You say enthusiastically.

“I will, but I better go before he comes in here and drags me out of my bed. Talk later?” The hope in his voice at the end is what made you want to sink into the water and never return.

“Of course Noah. Now go help Jolly out before he kills you.” You laughed a bit at the end as you could hear the door opening to Noah’s room, Jolly’s voice ringing out as he grew impatient. There was a little bit of a scuffle and some mumbled arguing then the call ended. You stared at your phone that rested on the ledge next to the tub now that it's gone silent, leaving the distant sounds of Vessel cooking in the kitchen to bring you back to reality.

You rested your head back against the tub and took a deep breath. For some reason you could not shake the anxiety that racked your body after the call with Noah, it came out of nowhere and made your chest feel tight. You took long and deep breaths, knowing this method usually helped when it came to your anxiety. But this time it made you feel worse.

The thoughts you tried to hold back hit you all at once. What the hell are you doing here? Why did you say yes? You have feelings for Vessel, but were they really enough for you to come all the way here? And if Noah had asked you before he did, would this be a completely different situation? Most certainly it’d be very different, but you didn’t even want to think about that.

You stared blankly at the water that has gone from warm to a cooler temperature and left your fingers pruned. Your foot moved through the water and you watched how swiftly it moved through the liquid, it was easy. If only your life could be like that, an ease to move through. But at this point it feels like you're moving through setting concrete.

And what if Vessel only wanted you here because he was bored and wanted something to do until he went back on tour? What if all those small things he did for you was just a facade? The second he leaves for tour is the second he stops caring about you, the second that all this gets thrown away and you’re left struggling once again to find the type of affection he gave you. He could so easily walk out of your life like so many have done before, what could possibly make him any different?

Hands gripped your arms tightly, pulling you out from the trance you’d put yourself in. Your eyes burned underneath the water when you opened them and your lungs screamed at you for air. Your body was pulled up from the position it had sunk into, allowing for you to take a deep breath and wipe the water from your eyes. Vessel was yelling but it sounded muffled to you, his eyes were wide with fear as you watched his mouth to try to figure out what he was saying.

“…Y/N please just focus on me.” You perked up once your ears had unclogged themselves and his voice was finally audible. “Jesus Christ you gave me a fucking heart attack.” His hand gripped tightly on your forearm, seemingly holding you up from slipping back under.

“What happened?” You asked. The confusion you felt from how you even ended up like that in the first place was all that came to mind as you tried piecing everything together.

Vessel sighed and pushed your hair behind your ear. “I don’t know. I came up here to tell you dinner was ready, when you didn’t answer I got a bad feeling and walked in on you just under the water and not moving.” He sounded terrified and looked like it too, he had tears threatening to break from his eyes as he spoke. “Why? Why would you try to do this to yourself?”

“I-’’ You didn’t know how to answer that. “I didn't intend for that to happen.” The look on his face broke your heart. He looked like he was so afraid to lose you, and in that moment you hated yourself for all that had run through your mind just moments before. His eyes searched yours for more than what you were giving him, he eventually gave up and sighed, pulling you to him and kissing your forehead.

“We can talk about that whenever you're ready.” He says quietly, holding you as tightly as he could. “Let’s get you out before you start turning blue again.” He lightheartedly said, standing up with his hands still wrapped around your arms which brings you to stand with him. He guided you to step out of the tub and onto the mat on the floor, taking the towel that was set aside for you and wrapping it around your body. He had you sit down on the toilet so he could towel dry your hair, his torso was pushed against your back as he carefully ran the towel through the strands.

“I can do this myself, Ves.” You say as he searched for a comb.

“You’re a delicacy at the moment. Anyways, I don’t mind it one bit.” He rummaged through the drawers and cabinets, looking for where you put your comb.

“Middle drawer on the left, it’s purple.” He happily pulled the drawer open and grabbed the comb, admiring the shade of purple that it was. He came back to you and gently ran it through your hair, being careful not to tug too hard when it came to any knots that formed. He focused until each strand was pristine and knot free, placing a kiss on the back of your head as a way to appreciate his work.

“What drawer do you keep your pajamas in?” He asked as he went towards the bedroom.

“Oh Ves please, you do not need to do any more for me.” You stood to protest him, following him out of the bathroom and into the room. “I promise you I will not break in half if you don’t help me with everything. You’ve done a lot already.” Your hand wrapped around his arm, squeezing it gently to reassure him. His eyes focused on your fingers that rested on his skin. He took a deep shaky breath, then stepped away from the drawers to let you find your pajamas.

You found your favorite t-shirt to sleep in; a very large gray shirt with a dinosaur couple on it sharing a spaghetti noodle like in Lady and The Tramp. You threw the towel that was wrapped around you onto the floor, pulling the shirt over your head and searching for a pair of boxers you loved to wear.

Picking up the towel to put it back to hang up in the bathroom, you could feel him watching your every movement. As you walked back into the room his eyes were stuck on you and not leaving anytime soon. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed against his chest as he watched.

“So what did you make for dinner?” You asked, ignoring the fact that he would not take his eyes off of you.

He stood up straight and cleared his throat, eyes finally moving elsewhere. “I made potato soup. I thought the weather today made it a perfect soup for dinner kind of day.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Little do you know… I love potato soup.” His eyes lit up so bright when you said that, almost like a kid who just walked into a candy store. “But will yours be as good as my mom’s?”

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” Vessel motioned you to leave the room first, quickly following behind you. The aromas coming from the kitchen were enough to make your stomach grumble loudly. Perhaps not eating all day wasn’t the smartest idea, but that just meant you could savor this dinner as much as you wanted to.

You stepped into the kitchen and let out a gasp at the sight in front of you; Vessel had gone out of his way to make the little table in the corner look like you were about to dine in a fancy restaurant. He covered the wooden table with a white cloth, pulled out some china that looked like it’d never been used before. There was a bottle of wine on the table waiting to be poured into the glasses nearby. You glanced down at what you were wearing and felt a tad embarrassed, maybe that’s why he wanted to choose your pajamas…

“You like it?” He asks.

“I love it,” you respond, walking to one of the chairs to take a seat. Before you could even reach for the back of it, Vessel had pulled it out for you and waited for you to sit before pushing it back to the table. “Did you really do all of this for me?”

He smiled as he walked away to grab the pot of soup. “Maybe.” He filled a bowl for you and then for himself, settling down across from you with an expectant expression on his face. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

“I was waiting for you before I started, I never eat until whoever is in my company is ready to.” You say taking the spoon and picking up the thick liquid, taking a quick whiff of it before putting it in your mouth. His eyes were on you again as you let your tastebuds decide whether it was better than mom’s or not. “Hmm.”

Vessel raised a brow as you teased. “Did I beat your mum’s recipe or not?”

“Woah, slow down there pretty boy. Give me some time to decide.” You chuckled while taking another scoop of the soup to your mouth and tasting it again. It felt like you were a food critic and Vessel was the chef whose reputation depended on your word, you honestly found it adorable. “I’ll give it a 9.5/10.” His face lit up as he smiled wide, finally digging into the food himself.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you ate. The slight tension that was between the two of you after the bathtub incident had gone away, at least you felt like it wouldn’t exactly be the main topic of conversation at the dinner table. But, you remained silent anyways, not wanting the word bath to come out of his mouth.

—————————

Two days have passed since then, no word about it has been spoken between you guys. Vessel seemed to not want to start that conversation and just leave it to you to bring it up whenever you're ready, if you’d ever be ready.

You spent a lot of time cooped up in his house, sitting in silence with a book in hand and enjoying each other's company. It was really nice. A refreshing feeling in your life compared to every other failed attempt at something you would even consider a “relationship”.

He’d cook for you and you’d watch, putting random songs on that made him laugh each time he’d turn around and notice you dancing around. You’d stand behind him and place your hands on his hips, moving them around to try and get him to dance along as he laughed even harder at your attempt.

That was one of the things you were really starting to like about him; his laugh. The way his nose scrunched up and how tight his eyes would close as he let out the most genuine, hearty laugh you’ve ever heard. The times where he’d just make absolutely no noise and stand there bent over with his hands on his knees after you did something stupid were your favorite.

It was something you knew you couldn’t deny for longer, how you felt for Vessel. It was becoming so obvious to yourself now and more than likely he picked up on it too, certainly he had feelings for you as well and he was not afraid to show you that he did. But there was that part of you that was slightly afraid to admit it and show him the same.

Your eyes flickered from the words on the pages in front of you when Vessel’s phone lit up on the table beside him, a sigh coming from him as it disrupted the focus he had on the book he read. You went back to yours, realizing that you’ve completely lost where you even remembered reading last.

You rested your head back against the couch and put the book in your lap, looking over at Vessel as he smirked at his phone while typing away. You watched curiously as he paused, seemingly waiting for a response, then quickly typing again. He glanced at you while you watched and a smile now sat on his face. “How do you feel about clubbing?”

You perked up in interest. “Did it a bit when I was younger, why?”

“Just got a text from III asking if we’d want to join him and the others at a club tonight.” He sat back on his side of the couch, mimicking how you were currently sitting. “He kinda wants to meet you. As does II and IV…”

“They know about me?” You ask in surprise.

He rolled his eyes. “Well duh, Y/N. They’re my closest friends, of course they know about the beautiful American girl staying in my house.” He ended his sentence with a wink that made you blush.

“As long as I get to meet your friends and spend time with you, I think clubbing sounds like fun.” You smiled and then laughed as the thought hit you. “And maybe I’ll be able to get your ass to dance with me.”

“I’m always in the middle of making food when you try, would you rather I let it burn so I could dance with you?” Vessel is quick to sass you as he stands up and stretches. “I’ll call an Uber at 9, does that give you enough time to get ready?”

You glanced at your phone to check the time, it was only 7 o’clock. “That gives me plenty.” You hopped up from your spot on the couch, walking past Vessel and giving him a kiss on the cheek that flushed immediately after your touch.

As you headed back to the room to get ready, you couldn’t remember if you packed any clothes you’d consider clubbing attire. When you used to go all the time as a teen with all your friends, you’d pick the sluttiest thing in your closet, which would always help you get into the club despite the bouncer’s suspicion on your fake ID.

You rummaged through the closet, looking for your dresses you knew you’d packed. And nothing. Absolutely nothing. Instead of giving up hope on your past self for packing everything, you go to the dresser drawer where you had put away the skirts you took with you.

The gasp that escaped you when you realized you had packed the one skirt you’d been dying to wear came into view; it was a black leather mini skirt that zipped up on the side. You threw it onto the bed as you ran back to the closet, searching for the perfect top to go with it. You settled for a black lace bodysuit that was long sleeved and decided putting on your platform calf boots would complete the outfit well.

You never got the chance to dress up and look nice anymore, so you decided it was best to go all out. Even if you were going to be in a dark club where the only people who would be able to see your makeup would have to be standing nose to nose with you. At least you knew Vessel might like it.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror and started your makeup, taking a little bit of time to try and make sure you didn’t fuck up the eyeliner and your eyebrows too much. It was refreshing getting ready like this and feeling like your younger self again. It didn’t take long for your makeup to come out the way you wanted it to, a good sign that tonight was going to be a great one.

Finding your phone, you check the time; 8:45, not bad for being rusty in your makeup abilities. You grabbed a small purse you like to use occasionally and put your wallet and phone inside.

“Ves?” You called out as you spritzed your perfume on.

“Yeah?” His voice echoed back from his room.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” You left your room and entered his room, eyes growing wide once you saw what he was wearing; black skinny jeans paired with a black t-shirt and leather jacket, his black boots completing the attire. “Are we that emo or what?” Despite the chuckle that came from you, it was hard to take your eyes off of him and how fucking attractive he looked. He turned around and did a double take at you, his eyes wandering over every part of your outfit and face.

“Funny thing is, we’re all just going to be a group of emos.” He smirked as his eyes glanced at the amount of your thighs that were exposed by the skirt for the millionth time. “I’ll order an Uber now since I’m all good to go, and also let III know that we’re heading out.” Vessel stepped closer to you as he tapped away on his phone, after a minute he put it back in his pocket and noticed how close he’d accidentally got to you. His eyes lingered on yours again as he pushed your hair behind your ears, his fingers trailing along your jawline and lifting your chin a bit to examine your makeup. “You look good, really good.”

Your cheeks heated up as he kept his fingers on your chin, his thumb ran over your bottom lip with a little force. “Are you trying to smudge my lipstick?” You asked, lightly swatting his hand away.

A smirk curled at his lips. “I’m just testing it to see if it’ll stay after a makeout or two.” He grinned cheekily as you shoved at his chest making him stumble back a tad. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the notification coming from the Uber informing you that they had arrived.

You followed Vessel downstairs, letting him lead the way to the car waiting outside for the two of you. The Uber rolled down the window and double checked that she was picking up the right people, after Vessel confirmed it was right he opened the back door for you to get inside, letting you settle before shutting it behind you.

The Uber turned in her seat and looked at your outfit. “My dear you are beautiful, I love the top.” You smiled wide at her compliment and thanked her, returning the compliment on her brighter hair color.

Vessel joined you in the backseat and the driver pulled off, putting on some music for you to listen to. Vessel’s hand rested on your thigh as he stared out the window, you watched him as the passing lamp posts illuminated his face ever so often and he would tap his fingers along with the beat of the song playing on the radio. You placed your hand on top of his, pushing your fingers between his and encasing his hand with yours. The size difference was a little silly, especially since yours was on top, but it didn’t matter to you.

The drive took only thirty minutes from his house to the club that was in the middle of London. It was pretty packed already, a line was extended out the door as a bouncer slowly let people in.

“You can drop us off here,” Vessel says. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Thank you honey!” You say as you got out of the car and waved to the sweet driver. Vessel’s hand rested on your hip as he guided you to the sidewalks, his eyes scanning around for the familiar sight of his friends. The brisk air hitting your bare thighs sent shivers up your spine as you found yourself trying to look for them too, but realizing you had no idea what they looked like.

You noticed the group of three guys standing together, one waving over at the two of you and the others in a conversation with one another. Vessel’s pace quickened a bit as you grew closer to the group, watching as the tallest of them was giving Vessel a thumbs up the entire time.

“Gentlemen.” Vessel says sarcastically, earning a glare from the one who stood more eye level with you. “This is Y/N.” He motioned to you. “Y/N, this is III, II and IV, my bandmates.” The tallest out of the four of them and the one giving Ves a thumbs up was III, a bright smile on his face as he reached to shake your hand. The shortest (and probably the one who looked the most innocent) was II, he took your hand in his and kissed it after saying a hello. IV is who you stood eye level with but only because of the shoes you were wearing. Instead of taking your hand in his, he opted for pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m a hugger, sorry.” He says as he felt you tense up a bit, not expecting a hug.

You just smiled and hugged him back. “That’s alright, hugs are never a bad thing.” IV pulled away with a grin on his face and turned his attention to your outfit, he gave you the “okay” symbol with his hand and a nod of approval.

“Let’s get inside as soon as possible before you freeze.” II pointed out the fact that you were shivering, leaving Vessel to swiftly put his jacket over your shoulders and wrap his arm around you to pull you into him. “I was waiting for you to do that for her.”

“Shut up.” Vessel said as he turned to the line. It had shortened quite a bit since you’d arrived, now only a couple of people stood waiting to be let in. Thank goodness because it was really cold out and you needed a drink.

Luckily the bouncer just glanced at all of your IDs and let you inside, he clearly had enough of dealing with people for the night and at this point did not care who he let in. III had taken over leading the group through the club as he had a clear path splayed out in front of him of where he wanted to go. He stopped at a larger booth towards the middle of the club that was pushed further away from where the dance floor was in comparison to some other booths. He flung himself in and sat in the middle, letting II and IV fill in next to him. Vessel motioned for you to sit and he followed, squishing you a bit against his shoulders and IV’s.

A waiter had come over and III was shouting an order for shots over the loud music, giving him a thumbs up as he walked away. You sat back and listened as the boys caught up with each other, constantly yelling back and forth with Vessel occasionally leaning against you in order to hear II a little better.

Once the first round of shots arrived, you had become part of the conversation as it moved onto concerts, a topic you were very familiar with. You all cheered each other with your shots, then threw it back into your mouth. The liquor burned at your esophagus as you did your best not to make any faces at it. After not drinking as much as you used to, you weren’t exactly that great at hiding the fact that you hated tequila.

“Are you not one that likes tequila?” III shouts to you.

“I’m not one to do tequila shots.” You laugh at yourself, the others join you. Vessel draped his arm over your shoulders, his fingers traced delicate patterns on the fabric of your body suit. His face was close to yours, as you felt his lips grazing against your cheek.

The boys cheered on the waiter as he brought two more rounds of shots for the table. Vessel laughed at them as they downed them with ease, you on the other hand watched in jealousy. You brought two shot glasses to sit in front of you, taking one in your hand and throwing it back. The burning wasn’t as bad as the first time, but it still made you make a face.

“You’re keeping them down at least, that’s a good sign.” II shouted from across the table. “Please do not throw up. I don't want to see that.”

You shook your head. “Oh I don’t throw up anymore. Too many years of partying has turned my stomach to steel when it comes to most alcohols.”

“Most.” IV teased. You gave him a good shove as you raised the next shot to your lips, this third one going down a lot easier. “See you just needed to warm up a bit, miss party girl.”

“That’s exactly right.” You said, leaning back to rest against Vessel’s chest. He held you close with one hand that pressed gently against your stomach, you both sat and listened to the conversation the others had. It was interesting to see how they interacted in a regular setting compared to on stage, their personalities were so different but yet at the same time, you could see their stage presences shine at some points.

The first notes of the song that you always had to dance to when you were in a club began to play: S&M by Rihanna. You were a basic woman, you hear Rihanna come on you have to dance along to it. You sat back up quickly, turning to push at Vessel to get him out the booth.

“Move I need to go dance.” You say, shoving him closer to the edge.

“You like this song?” He asks with a smug look on his face, leaving the booth and putting a hand out for you to take.

“I love it, actually.” You say as you stand up. “And you’re going to dance with me.” Your grip tightened on his hand and you pulled him to the dance floor, where many people crowded around and danced to the beat of the song. Pushing your way through a bit until you found a spot you liked, letting go of Vessel’s hand so you could move around. The alcohol in your system really had you feeling yourself and the confidence boost it had given you was like no other, allowing you to move your hips around like no one was watching.

Your eyes flickered up to meet with Vessel’s, noticing they were fixated on you as you danced around. You smirked as you took one step forward and pressed your body against his, taking his hands to rest on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his face closer to yours, your nose brushing against his.

In one sudden gesture, Vessel had flipped you around and pressed his chest into your back. His one hand now resting on your lower stomach, and the other? He couldn’t help but place it around your neck. Your eyes closed at the light pressure he was applying on it, a new found butterfly fluttering around in your stomach from the sensation.

The song ended and transitioned into another one that wasn’t as fun to dance to. You pulled Vessel off the floor and back to the booth, noticing another round of shots on the table. You laughed at how pleased III looked with himself and choice of liquor.

“Are you ever going to order an actual drink?” You shout at him, noticing that II and IV had separate drinks they were sipping at.

“No! Those aren’t as fun.” He protested.

You shook your head. “Well you have fun with that, I’m going to find the restroom.” They all waved you off, except for Vessel who landed a smack on your ass as you walked away.

The restrooms weren’t too hard to find as the bright neon sign practically blinded you no matter where you stood in the club. You only went in there to check on your makeup, specifically because of Vessel choking you a bit as you danced. Your eyes teared up some and you couldn’t help but wonder if it messed up your eyeliner at all. Standing at the mirrors you checked your eyes closely, noticing nothing smudged. Perfect. Your hair got a little messed up though, but nothing that didn’t add to the intensity of your look already.

Your ears were ringing from being around the loud music and your throat felt a little scratchy, probably from the amount of yelling you’ve been doing trying to have a conversation with the group. Perhaps a club wasn’t the best choice for your first time meeting Vessel’s band… oh well you were having a great time and couldn’t really care about the practicality of it all.

Once you were satisfied with yourself, you left the bathroom and returned to the loud club. Squeezing past multiple people making out along the back wall and eyeing the small group of people doing lines, you accidentally bumped into someone while you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You shout to the man, hoping you didn’t spill anything he was holding. He turned around and the expression on his face went from annoyed to elated.

“Is alrigh’ darlin’.” He slurred, patting your shoulder. You gave him a smile and went to head to the booth, when you realized he would not let you move from in front of him. “Where… do ya think you’re goin’? Come dance with me…” His hand gripped your shoulder tightly as he pulled you towards the dance floor.

“No, I’m not interested. I need to get back to my friends.” You pry at his hand that was seemingly glued to you, his grip was that strong. “Man let go of me!” That only spurred him to drag your body to be pressed uncomfortably tight against him, the smell of alcohol poisoning your airways as he breathed heavily on you.

A loud smack and a sharp pain rang from your ass as his hand came down hard against it, giving it a painful squeeze afterwards. You were quick to react; shoving him away as hard as you could muster and then landing a hard blow on his face with your fist. The people around you gasped as he fell to the floor covering his nose that was bleeding profusely. Your arm raised again as you stepped over him, about to give him another for good measure, until a hand wrapped around your fist. You turn around and see that Vessel was standing behind you, his eyes burning into you.

“Good god woman.” II said as he stood by Vessel’s side, analyzing the damage you did.

III and IV came over and pulled us away. “Security is coming, we gotta bounce.” Vessel kept you close as you followed the others out the back door of the club and into the freezing night. You walked a few blocks until it was decided security wouldn’t go that far looking for you.

“What the hell happened?” Vessel was the first to speak, his voice remaining calm as he could tell you were shaken up.

“Um-” You begin, but cut yourself off as you hissed at the pain that started to radiate from your fist. “I was coming back from the restroom when I accidentally bumped into that guy. I said sorry and tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. He had such a tight grip on my shoulder and he wanted me to dance with him. He then held me super tight against his body and smacked my ass hard, I’m probably going to have a bruise.” You glanced at your hand that had a splatter of the man’s blood on it. “So I just punched him.”

Vessel held your hand gently as he examined it, careful to not press too hard against your bruising knuckles. “You okay?” He whispered.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay once I take some pain meds.” You shrug.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern and his eyes burrowed deep into yours. “I didn’t mean like that.” It clicked in your mind, he was asking about how you were mentally. You glanced at the others that stood around, clearly worried about you as well. All you could do was shrug in response, not exactly feeling like breaking down crying in the middle of a London alley right now.

Vessel nodded and glanced at the boys over his shoulder, giving some sort of unspoken message to them. “Let’s get you back home then, yeah?”

You smiled at him. “That would be wonderful.”

#bad omens #noah sebastian #sleep token #vessel

69 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 1 month

Note

how would Steve try and describe human relationships to mermaid reader? and what would her reaction be?

also I love the fact that she has her own “room”.

Miss G?

Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader from Sun, Salt, and Shield

Headcanon below the cut! (It got soooooo rambly, but is very cute.)

Well, only Steve calls you 'Doll,' and though Tony will not stop calling you 'Grariel,' eventually you're called 'Miss G' instead--added bonus that you roll around on your Segway with Hollywood-huge sunglasses.

'Miss G' sounds like a celebrity and fancy. You don't understand that distinction yet, but Tony and Steve like it.

Oof, does Steve know how to describe relationships to humans? He's so awkward. He would start with simple things: couples enjoy doing activities together, spending time with each other and other couples or people, often times they touch casually (tricky to explain that word in limited english), and they...kiss.

Important things Steve would mention is that your teeth are very sharp (and numerous) compared to humans. Respectfully, he teaches you to smile without opening your mouth, and does warn that, though he's a fast healer and tougher than most, he will bleed if your teeth catch any part of him ::cough::.

Tony sank a pressure chamber into the bottom of the pool, so you can sleep there comfortably. Rarely, he'll let Steve take one of the Divers and camp out on the ocean floor where you live. Sometimes that makes Steve a little sick for a day or two after, but he never mentions that to you.

This is sorta dumb, and Steve thought it was downright offensive at first, but Tony left all the pool toys in the corner of the room and slowly teaches you to play with all of them. You're quite dense, so you need like ten foam noodles to 'float' you on the surface, but it's very fun.

You find the beach ball is endlessly entertaining, mainly because you swim so fast and can hit it so hard that the ball ricochets off the ceiling like a higher level of Pong. You've popped nearly a dozen of them, but Tony just buys them in bulk.

So, back to relationship and Steve's explanation.

The most heart-warming thing Steve teaches you is the hug. So simple. So reminiscent of your first meeting. If you lay your head on his chest, your face can remain underwater to breathe and hold onto Steve indefinitely, and he's tried. The longest he's gone is five straight hours of just you two holding each other, brushing his thumb over your cheek, giving you soft back rubs, getting gentle back scratches from you, and loving every second.

Sometimes he just talks to you, even when he knows you can't understand most of the words. It's shocking how much gets across by emotion and intonation alone. You squeeze him a little tighter when he's telling you a sad story, and you rub your forehead into his sternum when he laughs at something.

Turns out, Tony used F.R.I.D.A.Y. to compile 'essential human visuals' into a slide-show, and Steve will explain pictures like prompts. That's helped a great deal because it gives him somewhere to start a conversation and lets him see how interested you are in what's happening on the screen. The light of the projector took some adjusting for your eyes, and then was too low for Steve to make out very much, so he now has his own special glasses, like Tony's, that show him an enhanced version of the slides.

Okay, okay, but I gotta say, the absolute most random and best thing ever was you trying to find Steve's room in the compound on your own. Tony gave you the room number--which you don't actually know how numbers work yet, but you go by memorizing the shapes--and then got engrossed by some other work. You hopped up onto your Segway, shades on, Atlantian breathing mask on to keep your mouth and throat in salt water, and you zoomed right through those double doors and past you 'guard.' They aren't there to keep you in, after all, but you did scare the shit out of them.

Off you fly down the main hall, back the other way, straight into the elevator, and you wait patiently, listening to horribly boring music and flicking your fin rapidly with nerves.

The buttons are confusing.

So. You press all of them.

Zippity doo-dah, round and round the halls you go, smiling (with your lips together) at the multiple people you almost run over, getting waylaid by the view of distant mountains from one window, and diligently starting to understand that the shapes Tony showed you repeat everywhere. You're looking for the correct order to them.

It takes over 45 minutes of going between 0 and 20 miles per hour to find the right combination on a little plaque, and it takes only the very tip of your nail to depress the squishy button below the plaque.

You're growing quite fond of the squishy buttons. Some of them are hard but light up. The surface is fun.

Steve is wiping white foam from a fresh shave off his jaw when the door swings open, and you do a spin on your wheels, spreading your fingers like the showy jazz-hands in one of the pictures about stage plays--musicals, they're called--better than elevators, you hope.

You get the ten cent tour of his little apartment and sit on a couch for the first time. Very exciting. Fabric is delightfully strange.

There's talk of a beach vacation, one where you and Steve might get to race along the shore, you in the surf and him on the sand.

You aren't sure whether you'll let him win or not.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

a/n: yeah...i don't even know, gang.

#ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #mermaid!reader #mermaid au #deep sea mermaid #steve rogers fluff

28 notes · View notes

mae-gi-writes · 10 months

Text

dial 199 | jeon wonwoo

In which you think you’re past saving, but the person on the other end of the line manages to pull you out of your dark waters.

Genre: angst, suicidal thoughts, reader is showing signs of depression.

If you believe you have symptoms and need to consult someone, please take that courage and do so. I swear life gets better.

———

“Hello, how may I help you?”

The gruff male voice at the other end of the line sounded raspy, as though the guy had just woken up from sleep. Or maybe you had interrupted him in mid-doze.

Your fingers tightened over the receiver. From your spot on the bench, nobody would see you amidst the darkness of the campus. It was practically midnight, after all.

“Is this WGU?” You managed to whisper in half-shame ad half embarrassment.

You were glad this wasn’t an in-person service because by god you would’ve never stepped foot in their office. But as desperate ass you were, you had no choice.

“Yes, this is WGU, also known as the “We Got You” committee. Anything I can help with?” The voice on the other end softened slightly, “are you in a safe space where you can talk without being interrupted?”

“I—“ you debated on lying, and decided against it, “actually I’m in the middle of the courtyard. I’m still on campus.”

“In the dark?”

“Yes. Not wise I know. But I couldn’t risk calling from my house, my housemates are there,” your throat ran dry. You swallowed thickly, “and honestly I just didn’t feel comfortable knowing that they might hear.”

“That’s understandable. How can I help?”

He said it so casually, as though he was a mere employee at a grocery store helping you pick out a shade of lipstick. Your grip on your phone was so tight your knuckles turned white.

You took a deep breath. Exhaled softly through your mouth. Then, spoke once more.

“I—This is confidential right? And nothing that I speak about will go beyond this conversation?”

“You do not have to give me your name nor do you have to give me any details. Everything is, and will stay, anonymous and confidential,” he then added, “unless you want to tell me. But that’s up to you.”

“Okay,” you bit your lip, “okay. So uhm—what shall I call you? Sir?”

“Call me Woo,” he said, “that’s what my friends call me.”

“Ah okay, uh, Mr. Woo—“

“Just Woo will do.”

“Uhm yes so, Woo—“ you stumbled over your words, “I—I’m really sorry to be calling at such a late hour, first of all.”

“That’s fine. I’m on the night shift anyway so you’re right on time.” You heard him shifting, “tell me, what’s been on your mind? Anything I can help with?”

“Well, the thing is—“ you felt the hard lump in your throat, the one that you couldn’t swallow, “I—I have a problem. I’ve been feeling very…how to say this? Negative, lately.”

“Negative? Can you try to explain what that means?”

“Like, very overwhelmed and just tired. I can’t seem to focus in class and my mind’s all over the place. My brain can’t stop thinking and I’m so homesick that I barely go out and—“

The tears came out by then, flooding over and taking you by surprise as you tried to silence your sobs. Woo waited at the other end of the line as you silently cried into the receiver, shoulders shaking and lips trembling every time your chest shuddered with emotion. It ripped through you like a cord that had snapped and suddenly you found yourself crying for so many reasons; the stress that came with midterms, the fact that all your other friends seemed to have settled and not you, the fact that maybe you were never going to fit in. The fact that you missed home more than you could imagine.

There were so many things, so many reasons to be angry at the world. And as you cried and cried and cried, you wondered briefly whether Woo had known he was going to sign up for this when he decided to join the WGU community. Probably not.

The poor boy was probably regretting all of his decisions right then, right now.

“Miss? Are you okay?” His familiar baritone seeped back through the receiver, which you kept a desperate clutch on like it was your lifeline, “I’m still here,” you gasped out.

“Alright we’re going to talk about all the things you just mentioned, okay? But first I want you to do something for me,” he instructed in a manner so calm you found yourself listening, “you’re going to take a super deep breath. And then breathe in. And then you’re going to hold it for as long as you can. Ready?”

He breathed in and you did the same, listening to the sound of air getting sucked into his chest before you held on tight. The air burned through your lungs and somehow, everything went quiet.

“Breathe out,” he murmured, and you followed.

You did that two more times before you managed to find your breath. It stuttered, it spun and sobs kept bubbling up your throat. But Woo drew your focus back in, not letting you get distracted just for one second.

When you finally managed to come down from whatever chaotic minefield in your brain, Woo murmured out, “feel better?”

“A little bit,” you admitted somewhat shyly.

You didn’t know this man. Yet he felt so comfortable to talk to, so reassuring.

“You want to try and re-explain what you’re really struggling with?” He asked tentatively, in a manner that felt so ope and non-judge mental.

“I think,” you bit at your lip, squeezed your eyes shut and let the words fall from your mouth in a whisper, “I think I might be depressed.”

There was a pause. Before he said, “okay, can you elaborate a bit more? What makes you think that?”

“Well, I—I’m always thinking of negative things and even when I try to cheer myself up I can’t. I want to go out and hang out with friends, but I can’t because I feel like—like nobody wants me there anyway, or that it doesn’t matter if I’m there or not. I don’t make a difference,” your shoulders lift in a shrug, capturing a sob mid-way, “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and I’m constantly questioning why the heck am I here, am I still alive when maybe, maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Thank you,” Woo said, “that must’ve been hard.”

You laughed, though it was more to mask the fact that what he said was true. It had been the hardest thing you’d ever done.

“Sometimes, when you’re in that negative headspace, you tend to overthink and over feel quite a lot. It’s a normal reaction when you’re stuck in your head,” he started out, “and, by the way, I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. It’s—I know how it feels like. I’ve been there, too. And the thing is, it’s so hard to get out of your own head sometimes. It feels like drowning.”

Yes. It did feel like drowning. You nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see you, “yeah, it does feel a bit like drowning.”

“And it feels lonely, because you’re the only one who knows what it really feels like. You’re the only one trying to catch your breath. Everyone just seems to be going on with their lives and you’re there, wishing for someone to see you.”

“Yeah, sounds about right. I just—“ you sigh, “there’s no point in living if people don’t even know I exist.”

“You want someone to care, after all. Even if you want to be alone.”

“It’s complicated. I want someone to see me, but then again I don’t want to be a burden.”

“We were made to be burdens. People have to rely on other people to live,” Woo said softly, “and it’s okay to be a burden once in a while because that’s what makes us human. We’re not superheroes.”

Relying on other people meant to tell people what was hidden in the grooves of your heart and honestly, you weren’t sure whether you wanted to share that with them. Those deep, dark secrets that made your insides churn just at the thought. Who would entertain such thought? They’d merely brand you as crazy and drop you off at the psychiatrists as quickly as you’d come.

You didn’t want that. If you were to find professional help, you’d do it on your own.

But you weren’t ready. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“Look, I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to be better as soon as you reach out. That’s not how it works,” Woo said, “but imagine that you have with you a super big guard dog. It’s all black and people don’t really like it. Actually, they’re scared of it.”

You tried following his suggestion. Your guard dog would be a husky, despite the fact that Woo said he’d be all black. Maybe an all-black husky?

“Okay,” you whispered into the receiver, holding it closer to you on instinct.

“Great. Now this dog. People fear it and normally you don’t mind it’s presence. Actually, you never really wanted a dog but he suddenly showed up one day. As a pup. So who were you to resist him right?”

You weren’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but you hummed in agreement anyway.

“That dog takes up a lot of your free time, and at some point he might become so big that it overwhelms you,” Woo said, “isn’t it a bit like what you’re feeling right now?”

You blinked. Somehow, that kind of made sense. You replayed his words in your head and felt your brain clear a little, like mist suddenly evaporating in the dead of night.

Your fingers loosened on the phone. Somehow, air seemed to go through your lungs a little easier. Your heart felt a little lighter.

A black guard dog filled with negative emotions. That was what you ultimately carried around. Woo had found the perfect metaphor to make you realize that this wasn’t entirely you. It was something that perhaps was uncontrollable and yet, could be controlled to some extent.

It didn’t have to rule your life. It didn’t have to rule your emotions. It didn’t have to make you sad all the time and angry at the world for not understanding the tremors inside you.

The words felt like butter as they left your mouth. It felt like a breath of fresh air the next time you spoke, “thank you.”

“Did that potentially bring down your sadness by at least one percent?”

“It really did,” the faintest of smiles played along your lips, “thank you.”

“No need. That’s what we do after all. I’m glad you’re feeling a little better.”

“Well I still feel like I should thank you anyway, because—“ you paused, “you’re the only one who actually listened.”

He chuckled but didn’t say anything more. You sat there for a few long, drawn out moments, wondering how just five minutes ago you were practically a ball of unrestrained feelings that seemed on the verge of breaking. And now there was a soothing calm that made your mind pause, that made everything still and steady until it was easy enough to breath again.

It was almost as though you’d managed to break out of the water, breathing in fresh air like your life depended on it.

“Thank you,” you said again, “thank you so much.”

“Just remember me next time, if ever you call.” Woo teased, “if someone else answers the phone you can say that you’re used to talking to Woo. They’ll transfer you straight over.”

“Are you on shift the whole night?”

“Until five in the morning.”

“You don’t have classes the next day?”

“Thank god no. I don’t think I would’ve survived. I have a free day tomorrow until four in the afternoon, so it’s not that bad.”

“That sounds nice. I have an eight in the morning. English Lit.”

“Wha—the wonder of people choosing morning classes will always be a mystery to me.”

“The logic is that you can get everything out of the way quicker so you don’t have to linger around on campus for nothing.”

He hummed, “I do agree, that sounds smart.”

“I should probably go to bed though, it’s late,” you check your watch as you spoke, eyes rounding at the clock showing one in the morning, “oh shit. I’m really going to struggle tomorrow.”

“Do you really have to wake up early?”

“Well yeah, otherwise I’ll miss my bus and I’ll have to catch up.”

“Maybe it’s good that you get to sleep in, don’t you think?” He prompted, “don’t you deserve that much, after the night you just had?”

A knot of anxiety settled in your stomach, “but—then I—“

“No buts,” he cut you off, “you deserve that much, Y/N. Trust me. You deserve to take a break and enjoy just being.”

there was a moment of silence as you pondered over his suggestion and your mind was already assessing the pros and cons, only for you to shut them all up and say, “you’re right. I think I deserve that much.”

“Good. Now will you do me a favor? Go home and get some sleep?”

“I will.”

“Alright. You’ll be okay, right?”

“I will,” you softened, “Thanks a lot, Woo.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight Woo.”

It wasn’t until you were halfway to your house that you realized you’d never told him your name.

———

Wonwoo watched you go from his perch on the streetlight lamp. It wasn’t the steadiest of landing points but this was the best way to watch your figure walk without catching attention. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound, especially at this hour where everything could happen.

His wings brushed against his back as he kept gazing at your retreating figure in the distance, the softest of smiles gracing his face, “you’ll be alright, Y/N.”

———

A/N: Hoped you liked this little one shot, inspired from true events. I’ve been feeling severely under the weather to the point that it’s taken two days of reality away from me and I wish it never happens again. This is a gentle reminder to all of you to take care of yourselves, and that someone out there is always going to care, and to want to listen.

Love you all, friends <;3

98 notes · View notes

astrology-bf · 9 days

Text

May DWC Day 1: Appearance

@daily-writing-challenge

Ardbert Hylfyst wasn't a man to take things on faith.

Perhaps he'd been so, once. Before the Flood. Back when he still had the luxury of indulging in the naivete of a fresh adventurer.

But he'd learned wisdom since then: nothing could be trusted, least of all the words of the Ascians. So while he'd listened to the man in white as he told them of the Source, the Scions, and the Warrior of Light, Ardbert took all of it in with a grain of salt. Especially when it came to the last thing.

"Ifan Kaleid", the Warrior of Light. Hydaelyn's chief instrument on the Source.

It wasn't that Ardbert didn't believe Elidibus' recounting. What piqued his curiosity was the fact that one mere man could be viewed as such an obstacle to the Ascians, even with the Mothercrystal's blessing. What about this person in particular made them so dangerous? He wouldn't get an answer from the Ascians, that was for sure. Even if any among them knew exactly what made this “Ifan” such a threat, they wouldn’t communicate their weakness to a mere tool - which Ardbert knew he and his friends most definitely were.

So he’d resolved to simply go and see the Warrior of Light for himself.

It hadn’t taken Ardbert any difficulty to track him down, as Ifan’s residence in Ishgard was common knowledge. Actually observing him without being suspicious was another matter, so Ardbert had to wait for an opportune moment before he could get a decent look. So here he was; leaning against a wall, gazing over at the white-clad hyur speaking to the levemetes in Foundation.

He didn’t seem special. Nothing about Ifan screamed “mighty hero”. He was a little on the short side, in fact, though Ardbert could hardly criticize from a mere five fulms and nine ilms himself. Handsome enough, he supposed, taking note of Ifan’s faintly roguish features. Ardbert blinked as Ifan gestured whilst in conversation, struck by how similarly his fingers moved to Lammit’s when she cast a spell - that same manual grace. Then Ifan let out a loud laugh, and Ardbert's ears tingled at the surprising edge of roughness on an otherwise fairly musical voice.

Ardbert didn’t realize he was staring at Ifan as the mage concluded his conversation, giving the levemete a smile and a gentle wave before turning to leave. As he did so, he happened to glance over in the warrior’s direction.

Their eyes met.

Shit.

Ardbert mentally smacked himself. He hurriedly averted his gaze in as casual a manner as he could, affecting a neutral expression. With any luck, Ifan would just find Ardbert a little strange, shrug, and walk awa–

“Need help, friend?”

Bugger. Shit.

“Uh… no. Just, uh….” Ardbert began as he turned his gaze towards the mage. Ifan had approached him and stood a few fulms away with a slightly airy smile on his face, regarding Ardbert with curiosity. The warrior was struck by the deep shade of Ifan's eyes. Like ocean water. It took him a moment to remember that Ifan had asked him a question.

The levemete counter. You’re waiting for the levemete counter.

“Just wanted to get a good look at the Warrior of Light, is all.”

Ardbert Hylfyst, you absolute fucking–

Ifan blinked in surprise. Then he chuckled. “Heh. Fan of me, are you? I can’t say the adventurers wanting to ‘get a good look at me’ are usually as experienced as you seem to be.” He said, gesturing again to indicate Ardbert’s bearing.

“A fan. Yeah, you could say that.” Ardbert replied with a nod, opting to take Ifan’s assumption in stride - not like he could think of a better excuse right now, anyway. “Sorry to be awkward about it, but you know how it is. Meeting your heroes and all that.” he added with an intentionally nervous laugh. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about you, Warrior.”

“You can just call me Ifan.” The mage extended his hand for Ardbert to shake, a smile on his lips. “What about you?”

Again, the warrior was struck by the hue of Ifan’s eyes. There was a faint… sadness, there. And hardness. Ardbert continued to stare even as he reached out to grasp Ifan’s hand firmly and shook it before answering.

You practiced this. Arbert. Your name is Arbert.

“Ardbert.”

You’re an idiot.

“Ardbert. Nice to meet you." Ifan greeted, returning the handshake with equal vigor. "You're an adventurer, aye? Are you new in town?"

“Could say that. A few friends and I are doing a job here and there, stopped by the city. When I heard the Warrior of Light was here, well... You get the picture.” Ardbert replied as casually as he could manage, crossing his arms and leaning back against the stone.

“And?” Ifan asked, tilting his head and looking at Ardbert expectantly.

“And…?”

“Do I pass muster?” A note of teasing crept into Ifan’s tone. Ardbert felt his breath catch a little for some reason.

“...Hard to say.” Ardbert answered at length as he shifted his weight. “You can’t exactly get to know a man speaking to him in the street. Need at least three drinks at a good inn, in my experience.” he added as a joke.

“True enough.” Ifan laughed. Ardbert found himself smiling a little at the sound. “Well, I guess that settles it.”

Ardbert’s smile faded. “...Settles what?” he asked, suspicious.

Ifan gestured again towards the direction of the Brume. “Three drinks, right? A lot of people would question calling the Forgotten Knight ‘a good inn’, but I’m fond of it.”

“You’re… offering me a drink?” Ardbert repeated with obvious incredulity.

“You said you wanted to get to know me better, right? I’d planned on having a drink regardless, and you seem to be decent company.” Ifan answered with a grin. “Or am I too much of a myth in your mind to let me treat you to a round?”

He had come to satisfy his curiosity, that was true. But there was a difference between observing him and what Ifan was offering; a private conversation where Ardbert would likely be expected to offer details about himself. And the more he revealed, the more likely it was that he’d slip up and clue Ifan into who the warrior truly was.

It’s too dangerous. Too dangerous by half.

…But…

How long had it been since Ardbert had just… had a drink? In a tavern. A real tavern. It was less the alcohol and more what such an act meant to him; being able to pull up a chair with a friend and put life on hold for a little while. To folk with busy lives, as adventurers often had, it was more than a balm - it was necessary for your own sanity.

“...Fuck it. Why not?” Ardbert replied, hefting himself up off the wall and giving Ifan a grin in return. “Especially since you’re buying.”

“A better incentive I’ve yet to find.” Ifan said with a wink and a tap to the side of his nose. Then he paused. “...Normally I wouldn’t be so forward, mind. You just seem…” He glanced back at Ardbert. “Earnest.”

Ardbert’s eyebrows rose slightly. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, and a nervous little laugh escaped his lips. “...You’re a lot stranger than the stories, I’ll say. But I won’t count my luck.” he said with a smirk. “Lead the way.

#maydwc2024 #writing #ffxiv #wolbert #ffxiv oc #ifan kaleid #ardbert hylfyst

19 notes · View notes

steveharrington · 1 year

Note

can u elaborate abt s4 not feeling like st? i don't disagree but i'm curious what ur thoughts are. i also felt s3 really didn't feel like st, like it's such a tonal shift from the first two seasons (and it has a LOT of issues) but i kind of love it anyway so.

before i try to put it into words i have to issue a disclaimer so here we go: i’m not trying to suggest that stranger things was ever like an indie show or underground or had a small fanbase at all, i know that it’s been insanely popular ever since s1 like i fully acknowledge that. however. s4, to me, feels like it was written to maximize online buzz instead of prioritizing the story, more so than any other season, and it worked which makes the fanbase feel different.

the first three seasons were obviously insanely popular and they did have these big moments that became referenced to death. i mean s1 alone spurred the whole barb obsession, the pink dress blonde wig el halloween costumes, the recreations of joyce’s light wall, the eggo jokes, plus people just went crazy like inviting david harbour to their weddings and shit. but that was all…natural. prettymuchit’s eric striffler talked about this in their stranger things commentary track so i’m ripping from him but he essentially said, in reference to s1, it’s insanely impressive how effortlessly the show managed to create iconic imagery that feels like it’s from an 80s movie in 2016. the duffers know that, so every season they ramp it up more and more to try to capitalize off that success. and sometimes i don’t mind it! i know people took issue with steve & dustin in s3, complained that their dynamic was being strung along just for memes or whatever, but to me their bond still felt genuine and authentic in that season so i personally was cool with it.

s4 just feels…rushed. which is insane because they had 3 years to work on it. purely speculating here, i think perhaps the duffers and netflix knew that it’d been forever and people were starting to forget stranger things, so all those rewrites and added content were kinda written with the idea of maximizing viewership in mind. that’s how we get ideas like: creating a fan favorite character whose imminent death is shoved down your throat so hard that the actual moment just rings hollow, shock killing and then un-killing max, bringing stancy back out of nowhere, starting and then dropping multiple storylines as the season progressed, giving el and hopper the exact same storylines they had in season two, having brenner take up insane amounts of screen time, etc etc etc. just…bad choices! and bad choices that you can tell were manufactured to either go viral (eddie and max) or start debate (stancy) while basically forfeiting the quality of the show in the process.

okay here’s where i’m gonna get bitchy. again i know the shows always been popular, and i like eddie, but eddie….took away a lot of the fun of the fanbase. and this is coming from someone who writes eddie fic!! i love him!! but i hate when any one specific character just completely monopolizes all content and conversation about a show, and among casual fans eddie completely 100% did this. you cannot see a single tweet about ST without thousands of replies all being like “is eddie coming back??? is eddie alive?????” and it just annoys me! i don’t like it! it makes the fan reaction and aftermath of this season just…different than the others and a lot less fun.

i think for me the different vibe all comes down to the fact that i didn’t like season 4. i was really disappointed after i finished it and honestly very sad i remember texting em being like “i don’t want to admit i’m disappointed because then that makes it real” but it’s been 5 months now and i can fully say: i was disappointed. it wasn’t what i was expecting, it wasn’t what i wanted, it was just not the quality of the show i know and love! which again is all subjective! and there’s a lot of good moments from it, but s4 just doesn’t hold a candle to the other 3 and it’s somehow impossibly made me …. not excited for s5. which i didn’t think was something that could happen!!

#answered #anon #long post

77 notes · View notes

mrvlbimbo · 2 years

Text

A Series of Nights pt 3

Night three (Steve finds out)

Pt 2

“Ohmygod, we slept together,” she gasped out, scrambling up from her position and grabbing his shoulders excitedly.

“I think I’d remember that,” he chuckled, not sure what she was getting at. His foul mood was nowhere to be seen that morning, which was a nice change of pace.

“No dumbass, we slept. Like for the first time in a month I got a decent night's rest,” she explained, shaking his shoulders. Her eyes were lit up with excitement and he couldn’t help but laugh again.

AKA

partners awkwardly share a bed because its the only way for them to make the nightmares go away, chaos ensues

The following weeks were characterized by success, both in DEA business and outside of work. The three partners had become quick friends and they were able to appreciate the government’s assault on the narcos while sipping down beers and filing meaningless paperwork.

Things were going well with Murphy and his wife finally getting settled into the new country and Javier and his other partner were practically roommates at this point. The whole ordeal was odd, but it let them to rest so they didn’t dig any deeper.

Things were going great, until they weren’t. The guy responsible for the government’s involvement was Rodrigo Lara. Everyone knew he couldn’t stay in the country long because the narcos were after him. And as they anticipated, he was killed the day he was set to leave the country.

It shocked the DEA agents. Not because they were surprised, but it ripped the sense of progress and stability they had felt previously right out from under their feet.

The nights had been good for the past few weeks. Casually and wordlessly sneaking into each other's beds and waking to find the other gone before morning. But things were different the night after assassination.

Neither of them had the nerve to cross the perimeter of the door to their own apartment and step out into the world after what had happened. So they both paced the living areas of their respective homes. Hours ticked by and their resolve faded, wanting the company but not knowing what there possibly could be left to say.

Javier was the first to break, hastily stepping out of his apartment without bothering to put a shirt on or fix his hand tousled hair. He didn’t knock because he didn’t have to, the door swung open as soon as he was in front of it.

“I can’t sleep,” he commented, leaning on the door frame awkwardly as he waited to be let in.

“Yeah. I know,” she replied quickly, ushering him inside and leading him to the couch.

He sat down, acutely aware that her soft touch had not left him. Her hand was now gliding over his arm and shoulder in a comforting wave. “It’s Steve’s fault,” he muttered, referring to the assassination.

“That doesn’t make it any easier though?” she questioned but it was clearly rhetorical. She knew for a fact that it didn't matter who he blamed, the loss would still eat at his soul.

He groaned in frustration and leaned into her, letting her arms wrap around his shoulders. “I can’t sleep. I just don’t want to be alone I guess,”

“Why didn’t you call one of your lady friends?” she asked, it was an invasive question but it was genuine. His reputation for late night meetings with hookers wasn’t a secret by any means. And there was a comfort they could provide that she wasn’t inclined to give away so easily.

“You’re my friend and you’re a lady so by that logic, I did call one of my lady friends,” he replied, a sly smirk on his face adding to his playful nature.

She tried to ignore the implication of what he had just said.“So what do you want?” she continued with a sigh, bringing the conversation back to why exactly he showed up at her apartment now of all times.

“Can we just lay down?” he pleaded, her soft gaze breaking his hesitancy down to nothing at last.

She laid back onto the couch and offered her open arms to him. He crawled between her legs and rested his head on her stomach, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She carded a hand through his hair and hummed softly. “Don’t go soft on me, Peña,” she teased, tugging at the roots of his hair to get his attention.

“Too late,” he grumbled with a weak laugh, nuzzling his head into her shirt with a dopey grin on his face.

After an unspecified amount of hours of whispered jokes and incoherent mumbling, they both fell asleep for the most part. Javier, being a more sound sleeper, managed not to wake to their disheveled partner barging through the door with a gun.

“Javi isn’t in his apartment,” Steve spoke breathlessly, as he rushed through the door.

“Shhh,” she whispered harshly, waving her finger around and motioning to the sound asleep man.

“Oh,” Steve gasped dumbfounded. His expression said it all. The fear in his eyes instantly resided and was replaced with a look of almost confusion. He knew what he was seeing but he wasn’t sure what any of it meant. His look of confusion quickly morphed into a smirk, raising his brows at the two agents tangled in each other's limbs.

“Be quiet,” she hissed, eyes widening when the other man stirred.

His arms around her waist tightened and he tilted his head up and opened his eyes to meet hers. “Morning,” he rasped, pushing himself up so he was hovering over her.

“Uhm we have company,” she squeaked, pushing him off of her and scrambling to the far edge of the couch.

“Hi partners. Seems like you two had a good night. I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry,” he drawled apologetically before rushing back out of the apartment as quick as he came.

“Murphy. Sit your ass down,” Javier yelled after him.

He reluctantly came back and sat on the chair next to the couch. “Nothing to talk about really. I’m not gonna tell on ya’,” he assured, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“We’re sleeping together,” Javier offered, before leaving the room with a laugh. He reveled in the way his female partner tensed up and whipped her head around to yell at him.

“No we’re not, don’t tell him that. You’re not funny!” she shouted, having half the mind to chase him down and slap him. But she decided against it since Steve was waiting patiently for an explanation to what he had seen. “I haven’t been able to sleep since I got this assignment, Murphy. I know it’s weird but it works,” she continued.

“So you’re doing it? It’s really no big deal,” he rambled, wanting to get out of the tense situation as soon as possible.

“No we’re not doing it,” she snapped, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips as she rubbed a hand over her face. Sure, they would laugh about this later, but right now she was running high on adrenaline. Fear that she would be found out, and her actions would be twisted into something they weren't. For Javier it would be an accomplishment, but for her it would mean disgrace around the office. Even when nothing had happened, she would never be able to escape the rumor.

“You don’t have to sound so disgusted,” Javier added, appearing from the doorway to the hall. The two of them were silent, waiting for him to speak again since he was the one who interrupted. “I borrowed your toothbrush by the way,” he finished, striding over to the couch to sit back down next to her. He reluctantly left plenty of space due to the current allegations they were facing.

“I like to keep my bed warm, what can I say,” she joked, trying to offer an explanation but getting caught up and saying something else that sounded like an innuendo.

Javier laughed at that comment, clapping a hand on Steve’s back and muttering, “Really it’s nothing. I get nightmares and it’s nice to not be alone at night.”

Steve squinted skeptically, looking them both over to discern any signs they were lying. Once he was satisfied he left, still highly confused about the whole thing but more focused on getting on with his day.

As soon as Steve was out the door the other man took it as his cue to start chuckling. She was having none of his nonsense and decided to launch a throw pillow at him. It hit him square in the face and although it didn’t hurt it certainly caught him off guard. In retaliation he grabbed the same pillow and hit her over the head with it, grinning as she glared up at him.

“Leave,” she growled, poking him in the chest and putting a good bit of force behind her finger to get the point across.

He put his hands up in surrender and sauntered out of the apartment. “See you at work,” he said before closing the door.

She couldn’t help the full faced smile that she gave at his silly antics. That was another thing she brushed off and tried to forget about as she got ready for work.

Pt 4

#javier pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

87 notes · View notes

nedjsmlfavs · 1 year

Text

Centerfold aka How Adrien Got His Nickname

Paper magazines were a rare breed these days, so when Alya walked into class to find Marinette sitting there, flipping through one, she couldn’t help but be curious.

“Whatcha got there, M?”

“Latest issue of La Belle,” Marinette replied, holding out the magazine.

Alya took it, flipping through pages of fashion spreads as Marinette explained, “It’s a fashion magazine specifically for teen and children’s lines.”

“I can see that,” Alya murmured, her attention focused on the seemingly endless collection of high-fashion photos. She might not have Marinette’s eye for this stuff, but it was still fun to look at all of the different outfits. Then she reached the center of the magazine and all thoughts of fashion fled.

A slow, devious smile spread across Alya’s face as she turned her attention towards the blond sitting in front of them, happily talking with Nino, oblivious to the danger at his back.

“Hey, Adrien,” Alya said, her tone deceptively casual.

Both Adrien and Nino turned to look at her. Adrien with innocent curiosity, Nino with narrow-eyed apprehension.

“What’s up?” Adrien asked, smiling at her without even a hint of fear.

Alya smiled back and held up the magazine, turning it around to display the latest Garbiel ad, featuring Adrien in all of his modeling glory.

“Looks like you’re this issue’s centerfold.”

Instead of flushing or showing any other tell-tale signs of embarrassment, Adrien simply frowned, his expression puzzled as he said, “Yeah, of course I am? Marketing always tries to make me the centerfold. Best way to get eyes on the goods.”

There was a moment’s pause as the group processed this. Then Nino groaned, slapping a hand against his face while Marinette turned bright crimson, robbed of her ability to speak.

Alya, on the other hand, looks like Christmas had come early.

“Reeeealy?” she said, drawing the word out, her eyes gleaming.

Adrien nodded. “Oh yeah! I’ve probably been the centerfold for La Belle a dozen times by now! Every time we can pull it off, there’s a clear bump in sales! It’s actually pretty neat! Father likes to keep copies of all of Gabriel’s ads, so I can probably dig them up if you wanted to see them? I’m not sure how well the older ones will hold up, but I think I’ve gotten pretty good at-”

“Adrien, stop talking,” Nino commanded, giving his best friend his now standard how-are-you-this-sheltered look. A look that Adrien immediately recognized. As soon as he did, all of his cheer vanished, replaced by apprehension. He glanced between Alya, Marinette, and Nino, finally registering the expressions on their faces. Marinette’s embarrassment, Nino’s resignation, and Alya’s suddenly terrifying delight.

“Oh no, what did I miss this time?” he asked, shoulder’s slumping.

Nino sighed and leaned over, whispering a quick explanation into Adrien’s ear. Then he pulled back and watched in amusement as Adrien’s face slowly turned an impressive shade of scarlet.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Adrien glanced back up at Alya, giving her his best kitten eyes as he pleaded, “Soooo, can we forget this conversation?”

Alya laughed, reaching out to pat him on his head as she said, “Not a chance, Centerfold. Not a chance.”

I have Alya use this nickname for Adrien all the time, but I've never shared where it comes from. I'm hoping to work this into a bigger story one day, but for now, here you go. He is, initially, mortified by the nickname, but that quickly gets replaced by exhilaration when he registers that he's just experienced a Standard Teen Bonding Activity. The fact that Alya has a nickname for him and almost no one else is soon a badge of pride for our cat-loving dork. His only request is that she never, ever use it in front of his father or Nathalie, which she immediately agrees to. She wouldn't have done that anyway.

#adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #nino is a good friend #alya is a good friend #my writing #ml leak free #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupen chang

23 notes · View notes

a-musing-mixologist · 2 months

Note

as dark as the recent time seems to have been, pirates know to celebrate whenever their adventures are a success and celebration is eventually taken from sharing it with everyone on deck underneath it, candles in odd shapes still lightening the captain's bed chambers. the air is filled by the scent of boze and herbs, the sound of glass clicking gently as golden liquid are poured again. it all feel so light that law decides tonight might be a good time for a somewhat agreed on gift. thsi time, without any mock or tease.

as he watches the other two men being focused on their conversation, he moves to pull out the corset he made with so much focus and passion for a particular redhead some time ago, by now having added a few smaller details just to add to the pirate's style further. he wrapped it in a black satin fabric, walking overcasually to take place to kid's right again, leading to the youngest being centered between the two man. inked fingers bend dark spikes back before adjusting the collar of his tanktop, casually dropping it on kid's chest.

"a gift, i've made it myself but consider it from the both of us. we think you would look quite good in it. no tease this time, maybe just a somewhat selfish desire of ours to encourage you to try out something different when it comes to your wardrobe here and then." his voice is smooth like honey, drink brought back to his lips as he gives killer a short knowing gaze before relaxing back into soft pillows of the seats.

Taking another swig of ale, he laughs easily. They'd taken down a rather powerful group of Marines and sent their vessel to the bottom of the sea. It had actually been quite some time since they'd had a real naval battle, and the Victoria proved she was still a force to be reckoned with as they sailed further and further into the New World. "Huh?" He sets his mug down, quirking a brow at his boyfriend as Law plops something down on him.

It has a bit of weight to it, much heavier than Law's last... present. "Selfish desires, hmm?" Gold hues fix on the surgeon before flicking to his partner, who only grins. Both of them, is it? He's probably in trouble, as if the sticky-sweet tone of Law's voice wasn't proof enough. Pale fingers toy with the soft material, and he can feel two sets of eyes on him. Bastards. Licking his lips he unwraps the parcel, finding a well-crafted leather corset in his trademark colors, complete with curling flame motifs.

Killer leans against him, beard tickling against his neck. "We thought it'd look good on ya," he purrs, muscled arms slipping around him. "Law put quite a bit o' effort into it, as ya can see." Sapphire gaze meets gold as Killer smirks at the surgeon around his redhead. "I can help ya get into it, if ya want."

He doesn't actually need very much convincing for this particular accessory, in fact he fancies it, and it's only the way the two are staring at him that causes a faint heat to color his cheeks. He rises to his feet with a growl, extracting himself from Killer's arms. "Fine! I've been meaning to change things up a bit." He sheds the feathered coat, black vest, and waist wrap, allowing the blond to assist him with the new piece. It fits perfectly around his muscular torso, tight-fitting without restraining his movement while very much accenting his chest. Not something he has a problem with.

"Fits amazing. Thanks for your 'selfishness', dear heart." His gaze fixes on Law. Of course he'd have gotten his measurements somehow, he knows how much the surgeon enjoys studying him. "So what do you think?" He smirks, striking a pose. "This what you imagined?"

#🌷Answered || Kid #herztakt #🌷🐯Magnetic Heart #hehehe

5 notes · View notes

peachsayshi · 2 years

Note

Hello my love and brain rot partner hehhe as requested here is my humble request

May i pretty please have some “The way you love me” Gojo jealous hcs? Hehehe I enjoyed that waaaay too much

NOTE: Thank you, lovely! ❤️ I am so sorry this took me so long but I didn’t want to give away any spoilers just in case! Hahaha Again, I have added the keep reading tab because this turned out longer than expected. This one is for all of you who read The Way You Love Me - some more of Gojo being jealous ;)

Jealous Gojo x Reader

minors and ageless blogs dni

Gojo who met Haru for the first time and didn’t realize just how uncomfortable it would be for him to watch you dote all over your boyfriend.

Gojo who clenches his jaw every time you tease Haru with soft kisses, and wondered to himself what it would feel like to have your pretty lips brush his skin instead.

Gojo who rolled his eyes every time you forgave Haru because he was busy astonishing you with his romantic grand gestures. He can’t help but scoff to himself, because don’t you realize that he would willingly spoil you out of affection, without having to bribe you for your forgiveness? The man would hand you the world on a gold platter if you merely asked him to.

Gojo who picks up on the fact that you’re the only one who keeps the conversation flowing while he and Haru exchange weary glances at each. Your friend doesn’t trust him one bit, and there was something about Haru that always rubbed him the wrong way.

Gojo who found satisfaction in the unspoken truth that Haru was intimidated by him. He’s thought about the many ways he could lure you from under this trance, but your eyes never radiated with such beauty when you looked at him.

Gojo who should be happy for you, but wonders if you can also feel the spark that ignites when you’re alone together. Do you ever think about the possibility of what it would be like to cross these boundaries?

Gojo who made it a habit to fuck strangers as a distraction in order to subdue the jealousy that was starting to drive him crazy.

Gojo who happily accepted the narrative of you thinking he was a playboy because he didn’t want to admit the truth. He let you make your comments, your assumptions, but you had no idea that the only he person he pictured when he came…was you.

Gojo who thought it would get easier after you broke up, but forgetting that his friend was an absolute knock out who always drew the eyes of many men.

Gojo who recognized that you never noticed their stares and would randomly place his arm around your shoulder, or brush his knuckles across your cheek in public to deter the others from admiring you with any suggestive thoughts.

Gojo who always had an excuse ready when you asked him what he was doing. “You’re the perfect arm rest…” / “Sorry, there was something on your face..” - but his subtle actions were enough to paint a more intimate picture between you both.

Gojo who would get frustrated when you sought him out for advice on dating but put aside his own annoyance because he just wanted to see you smile again after your break up.

Gojo who swallowed hard as you nervously checked yourself out in the most sinful dress he’s ever seen you wear, ignoring the way the blood rushed between his legs when you asked him for his opinion.

Gojo who stated: “You look hot, but I think the guy might get the wrong idea…”, and he watches your face fall as your brows scrunch with confusion. “What do you mean?”, you ask.

Gojo who bluntly replies with: “That’s a “fuck me” dress, right?” so casually that he almost relishes in the horrifying look on your face. He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, “I’m just being honest here…”

Gojo who exhales happily when you decide to change into a pair of jeans and a loose white blouse instead, but later that night jacks off to the idea of fucking you with the dress still on.

Gojo who spent years coming terms with his own jealousy but did everything in his power to ensure that it never trickled into your friendship.

You meant the world to him, and he wasn’t willing to lose you over his own vices.

#the way you love me #peach and friends.🍑🧡#kat.🧡#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo hc’s #Satoru gojo hc’s #Satoru gojo hcs #satoru gojo headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

103 notes · View notes

greenandhazy · 2 years

Text

Going over the dialogue between Thomas and Guy, I think it's really important how the script makes a point of the fact that, while Guy initiates most of their interactions, Thomas still plays a role in continuing them, and in some cases moving them along towards more private, or at least casual, terms.

Their first scene is an interesting exception, in that Thomas is the one who seems to initiate it. I've always thought the line "I'm the butler, sir. Please tell me if there's anything you need" is odd because--well, Thomas has already let Guy into the house, taken him around, served him at dinner and now brought him a drink. It's safe to say Guy knows he's the butler at this point, and the line is v much not delivered in the snide, condescending way he instructed Matthew at dinner in the first season. it reads to me as a little added reassurance; Guy has thus far proven himself the most polite out of the three film people staying at the house, and Thomas rewards him, almost, by making sure Guy knows he's allowed to ask for things. Then there's Guy's misstep--there's a very slight pause when Thomas doesn't know what to say, and Guy corrects himself before he can decide.

Second scene, in the Great Hall--Thomas gives basically his whole resume and adds "there's not much I can't tell you about how to run a house" with a smile. Think how different that scene would read if he had said "Oh, the usual way, sir. I started as a hallboy and worked my way up. If you'll excuse me, I have to oversee the dinner preparations" (sub that last sentence with "Did you need something?" or any other polite, distant buterlism).

Jumping to the pantry scene. Thomas does open with the polite butlerism of "can I help you, sir?" but when Guy tells him to call him by his first name, he forgoes the professional responses--"I doubt my employer would approve of that, sir," "that's too modern for Downton Abbey, sir" or even "if you insist... Guy... was there something you needed?"--and goes for "What's your real name?" which is just-- it's flirty. It's flirtatious. I could just barely tolerate a reading of it as platonic teasing, but "professional" or "awkward/uncomfortable" or trying to chase Guy out it 1000% is not. And in the next natural pause he asks "Do you know what you'll do next?" which again, is conversational and does not steer them back towards professional, "stay in your lane and get the hell out of my office" waters. (I would also argue "your career won't fold," while not necessarily an invitation to chat more the way the others are, is at the very least an unnecessary pleasantry that Thomas threw in just to be friendly. He interrupted Guy to say it and he didn't have to.)

The only conversation that Thomas doesn't extend on his own initiative is the one on the gallery. Guy stops him, and then there's a more natural back and forth with Thomas mostly responding to his cues--although, again, I think he's speaking in a warmer and kinder tone than he has to. (We've seen Thomas talk to people he doesn't like, including guests, including members of the family who could threaten his job or make him uncomfortable so much easier than an actor Lord Grantham is already predisposed to dislike, and he is not shy about being rude or sarcastic when he wants to be.) Also, of these four relevant scenes, we see Guy end two of them--in the library and the pantry--and one cuts off before they part. In this one, there's a natural lull in the conversation and Thomas, without waiting for Guy's cue, just says "sir" and walks off. So we see he is comfortable dropping a butlerlism and leaving when he wants to.

I could see multiple different readings on when Thomas actually starts to treat Guy as a romantic prospect, ranging from "he was starting a slow flirtation in the library, he just got caught off guard by Guy being too bold right off the bat" to "the penny didn't drop until the lapel pat" but I do think it's clear that he has a more deliberate, congenial relationship with Guy than pretty much any upstairs guest we've seen him interact with since... s1e2? (or ever, given how those early interactions actually ended...)

#thomas barrow #guy dexter #downton abbey #spoilers

74 notes · View notes

nxiousxpsistence · 11 months

Text

it's over, they're all over

I've let them all go.

Yesterday was yet another Pride day in London and on Pride, nothing can make me sad. That's why it was good timing to have that convo where I literally let go of my crush after holding on to these warm feelings for a month or so - wait, exactly one month!

I found him after the march and we had a couple of drinks and talked. My intention was to lay it all on the table and gauge his reactions. Before I could say anything though, he hit me with "I've been upset over this. I get upset over things like this!." I spent the next half hour trying to understand what got him upset.

Apparently he felt like a male "pervert" perving over a femme who was not interested.

It was more like him starting something without my consent. I didn't put the binary into it, he did.

And it was just bc I didn't respond to him for about 6 hours and I hit him with "I need time to think if we can find a common ground" in the morning when HE texted me "Are we not speaking BRO?".

Forgetting how he left me on read for days on end and I never made a big deal out of it bc I didn't want to keep in contact constantly. Apparently he thought it was him being aloof and me chasing him, giving him the space just so I could bag him. Like what?

I tried to make him understand that it wasn't the original boundary-shattering but how he and I handled it in the hours following. He failed to respect my agency and my space at every step of the way. The initial attempt made me feel uncomfortable, the convo that came after didn't reduce that discomfort and, in fact, added to it.

For one, he literally said "Oh, I've been expecting this, this is too familiar." This is possibly the only notion I hate with my whole heart. It renders me without any will or means to reply. Should I try to persuade you otherwise or should I say "Yeah, you must be a genius!." There's an element of trust at stake here, too. I can't really put my trust in another person's way of thinking if they are in the habit of jumping to conclusions without enough information AND submitting to their impatience to assume the worst about themselves and myself. Like Super Hans says, I can't really depend on this way of thinking in a combat situation.

Apparently what he thought was that I must have got back together with my ex, who wouldn't want me talking to other ppl. Where exactly is my agency and my authority in that? Am I just a putty in ppl's hands and have I got no willpower to do as I please? Also, why are you trying to get closer to someone who you think can actually be dragged into things rather than following their own agency?

Towards the end of the conversation, it was pretty clear to me that we wouldn't be able to make each other understand our respective positions and I told him as much. I explained how I knew the pieces didn't and wouldn't fit and this is actually a good thing that'll save us a lot of heartache.

I think it was the toxic doublethink I got from him that put me off further. Half of the convo assumed what happened the night before was purely a misunderstanding, while the other half questioned why he wouldn't be able to use sexual innuendos while talking to me, an asexual. This way of thinking is DANGEROUS, not only for whomever he chooses to be with but for himself, also.

When you start questioning if something could be anything other than what it actually was, there's no fighting that.

He couldn't answer me when I flat out asked "Was it suggestive or not?." Because it fucking was. And him trying to convince me that it wasn't (while claiming he should be able to say suggestive stuff to me) was an even bigger red flag than the original suggestiveness. Hope he got that.

I was only shocked when he talked about how I approached him sexually and how if he'd done that, that would've been an issue with me. What he's talking about is this 4 sentences I uttered to him, explaining that I'd want a casual relationship, no strings attached, with hopefully some sexy times. That's it. It was me offering him my consent - NOT to have sex right there and there, but maybe to start talking about it, what we want, and what gives us joy and what makes us tick? How is it that our personal spaces should be available at all times to be invaded by others? Why would somebody open themselves up to hurt like this?

I was so careful not to touch him when I knew he wasn't there for it even as we were lying side by side on the same bed. It was only once that I said I wanted to touch him and he only consented to me cuddling him from behind - and that's exactly what I did, nothing more. So he did see how I approached this. He knew I wanted him badly and I was keeping a respectful distance even when we were in the same house. He knew how to do it, he just chose not to.

This was also shocking bc I realised how intricate my understanding of physical intimacy was. It was never straightforward and I knew that. But I never thought it would involve me having to fight against these linear, seemingly compulsory, and frankly childish impositions of what I need to tolerate. I don't have to tolerate shit and if somebody assumes that they do, I can't convince them otherwise. I found myself trying to explain the layers of my own sexuality which I'd got together over decades and I didn't enjoy it about a month into a situationship. Even him putting me in that position was off-putting.

He just wouldn't accept why his usual way of going about things wouldn't work on me.

This led to a painful realisation. I literally told him that if I'd been 5 years younger, I'd have taken this all in, performed the role of a good femme girlfriend, his efforts to convince me his intentions had been pure succeeding and me narrowing myself down more as we went along. It would've been a 2-year relationship AT LEAST and it'd end with him and me cursing each other for all the trauma we'd caused. I said, "I'm not in the business of depending on things changing, they never do."

It saddens me to think this is how ppl are taught to start relationships - based on wishful thinking. Mine is magickal thinking, there's a difference.

Then, he talked about how rude I was, saying he'd never do that to anyone. I said, "You mean telling sb when you don't want something?." He said, well pretty much. Apparently if he were me, he'd string me along without me knowing what he actually wanted. I'm not going to berate anyone for this, everyone has their own way, but this feels so fake and so pretentious and control freak-y to me. 1) Why would I subject myself to something I don't want to subject myself to? 2) Why could I not be courageous enough to tell ppl the truth without offending them or berating them? Why is it a no-go to say no to stuff?

It's funny bc I had told him that nothing true and real could hurt me. It apparently went over his head.

Once we had the convo, we went to the afterparty, tried to get in and couldn't, so we had a drink somewhere else. It was good as I felt things were back to normal. Like I can now have a conversation with him if I see him around.

BUT there were just 3 sentences (this is a lot isn't it?) that showed me there was no way back.

"You smoke too much, smoke less." He has no idea how much or how frequently I smoke. What is it to anybody if my way of living doesn't hurt them directly? Again and louder for the ones in the back - my life invites no intrusion.

"I don't like you when you're drunk." Then don't be around me when I'm drunk, it's easy. And if he's not comfortable with something, he can easily let me know. Holding on to it and saying it right after I "broke it up" surely isn't a good look.

"You'll get back together with your ex." Again do I have no agency? Do my words hold no truth? Why would I get myself into SOMETHING I DON'T WANT TO BE IN? This is the biggest red flag as he literally believes he can find himself in situations he doesn't want to be in. Why?

This last point is also significant bc I have this suspicion that this will be the foregone conclusion the whole community around us will have. It'll be a point of conversation how I've been flirting w sb else and my ex flirting with multiple ppl and we still live together - "Oh, they'll get back together." I understand ppl talk and I don't mind it - I know we have an interesting and somewhat "impossible" story - but I'd like to have the power to not be around anyone who'll enjoy holding on to their presumptions about me than what I actually have to say. I'd rather remain a mystery for the narrow-minded.

I am so proud of myself for keeping an eye on myself through all this. My inner child is happy. She feels protected. I'm happier now that it's over than I'd be when it went ahead.

Now I'll have 2 weeks for myself to talk to my feelings, see where they are, and persuade them that yearning for him is the better way to go than having him. I think I'll manage.

Again - I love myself and my love for you more than I love you and it's amazing.

#anaisgotnothingonme #lifeshrinksandexpansinproportiontoonescourage #somebreakupsarenecessary #navigatingthedatingscene

0 notes

weebswrites · 2 years

Text

Lucifer x GN! Reader - It’s Mutual pt.1 (trust me)

A series I’m starting !! Will be a slow burn Lucifer x MC, friends to lovers, smut down the line but not for a while (with a cw before of course). Send me a request or message if you’d like to be added to a tag list!

Status: WIP

WC: 1527

----------

Lucifer definitely doesn’t eavesdrop on your conversations with Simeon. Not all of them, anyway. He’s just so curious if you feel the same. It’s unlike him to do this, stand outside your door, ear pressed to the mahogany wood as he focuses completely on the sound of your voice.

“I can’t stop thinking about him, Simeon. It’s becoming a problem” you laughed a bit, and his heart stopped. Could you mean him? Then it sunk, instant fear filling his heart that you meant one of his brothers

“I can tell, MC. The way you talk about him says it all. You have such a pure love for him” the angel responded, using eloquent words as always. His education in the Celestial realm shining through even centuries after its completion, “how was the meeting today?”

His heart felt like it exploded out of his chest. The meeting with him? He didn't think you had any other meetings that day...

‘Who could have thought a human like them could stir these feelings in me’ he thought, ‘Diavolo was the only other one in our meeting today, and they couldn’t have feelings for him, right?’

He held his breath and listened for your response

“Every time I looked at him it felt like my heart was going to give out” you began, knowing Simeon was the one person you could dump your deepest feelings to without judgment - for a demon or otherwise, “His eyes are more addictive than oxygen, and his smile. His smile! It’s so rare, and usually for Diavolo, but even when it’s a fake one he puts on to make Diavolo happy it makes my heart melt”

Simeon laughed, teasing you with a “gross”

You laughed in unison and rolled your eyes, “I know! I had no idea I was going to come down here and fall head over heels in love with one of the strongest demons in the Devildom” you paused, “I mean, have you seen his arms? And those back muscles? He’s strong in more ways than one” you wiggled your eyebrows and shoulders at your best friend, who scrunched up his nose at the thought

“MC, yuck! You’re the one who dreams about fucking him, not me” he teased you, using the secret you’d told him in utmost. secrecy. against you. and so casually!

“Simeon!! I told you that in confidence” you jokingly scorned him, lightly punching his arm

The punch you delivered Simeon would have been much, much harder if you knew the subject of your conversation was outside the door listening.

Lucifer was hardly conscious at this point. You definitely, undeniably felt the same about him. Down to the sinful thoughts. The thoughts about you in his bed, screaming his name as he made you his in the most definite way he knew how. His mind could hardly process the information. He knew he should leave before he accidentally made a noise, or you and Simeon left and caught him, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Until one of you confessed, this was the most he was going to get as far as romantic intimacy went - and as much as his subconscious knew he should walk away, his heart wouldn’t let him

“You should tell him”

“Oh my god, no” you instantly replied, “There’s no way he feels the same, and I don’t want to make it awkward between us. If I have to live with being in love with him for the rest of my life, so be it”

“MC, please. You’re being unreasonable” he always helped you see the bigger picture, but you'd convinced yourself Lucifer didn’t feel the same

“No, I’m not. He’s Lucifer. I know we’re good friends, but I doubt he’d even have time for a relationship, much less want one with a human” you presented the facts that had almost become a mantra for you, helping you restrain from grabbing his face and kissing him like you often fought the urge to do

“What if I could tell you for a fact that he feels the same” Simeon smirked, and your heart skipped a beat

“What? How?”

Lucifer’s heart also skipped a beat. ‘Does he know? He can’t, I haven’t told anyone about my feelings for them. Unless he picked up on them…angels are more perceptive about things like that than demons are. Shit, maybe he does know’ his mind raced, but he shut them down to listen closer

“I could ask. Subtly, of course. But you know how good I am at getting information out of people…and demons”.

“He’d never tell you, no matter how good you are” you persisted, convinced that the eldest brother could never return your feelings, “Even if he did until he tells me himself I won’t believe it. I can’t. It’s Lucifer, he’s too hard to read”

“Don’t you trust me, MC?” he reached a hand out and put it over yours, “I can find out for you. Then at least you’ll know, and if he doesn’t feel the same you can try to move on if that’s what you want”

You paused for a moment to think. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, might as well try to find out. It's not like my feelings are going away any time soon. Thanks, Simeon”

“What are best friends for?” he smiled, “I have to talk to him tomorrow anyways about some paperwork, so I’ll slip it into conversation and let you know”

“Tomorrow - that’s so soon. What if he doesn’t like me? Oh god if he doesn’t like me back I’ll die. Maybe this is a bad idea” you began to spiral

“MC, stop” he put his hands on your shoulders, holding your gaze with his eyes

“You’re going to be okay. This is going to be okay. I have a really good feeling about this, just trust me” he explained in the soft voice he used to comfort you, and you nodded, pressing your forehead against his

You sighed, “You’re right. Knowing will give me clarity, and then I can go from there” something about the way he said he had a good feeling gave you hope, and you smiled with a new confidence

“Exactly” he smiled and kissed your cheek, “Well, Luke is waiting for me, so I better head out, but I’ll text you,” he said, standing up from the bed

Lucifer quickly turned and walked down the hall, trying to maintain an air of normalcy in case he ran into one of his brothers. Luckily, he didn’t. He reached his office and closed the door, instantly sinking into the cold leather of his desk chair.

“Fuck” he let out the breath he’d been holding into the profanity, a hand running through his hair (something he only did when deep in thought)

He sat for a minute, staring into space, before quickly standing up. He walked to the mini-fridge you’d gifted him and took a tea from the door. Originally he’d thought it such a useless gift, why would one need to keep drinks in their office - and food? Humans really were something else.

You’d had to stock it for him, filling it with drinks you liked that reminded you of him, as well as a few snack items that would last a while. That way when he stayed up late he had no excuse not to stay hydrated and fed. A gift for him and for you, really.

He twisted the green top off the bottle and took a sip, cold liquid sliding down his throat. His eyes fell shut, and he took a deep breath. Opening them, he walked to his bedside record player and selected your favorite record from his shelf. It was a piece from the human world, “Symphony No. 9 For The New World”, composed by Antonín Dvořák. He’d never heard of it, obviously, but it’d grown on him.

The music quietly filled the room, and he sat back down, allowing himself some time for his mind to race.

They like me. They love me, even. They love me back. I… I can date them. If they want, that is. But I can. I can tell them how much I love them, how their E/C eyes shine in the sunlight, how their smile makes me feel whole, how their voice is more addictive than the cursed vinyls I love. I could tell them now…’ he paused for a moment, genuinely considering throwing all caution to the wind and confessing to you. ‘What’s the worst that could happen? Well, they could say no. But why would they, I heard what they said to Simeon’ he paused again

“I can’t” he spoke aloud. Lucifer found the resolutions he spoke into the universe he was better at keeping than the ones he thought. As if someone could hear him and hold him to his decree. “I’ll at least wait until Simeon talks to me tomorrow. I can’t risk losing them for a silly impulse”. Satisfied with this, he placed the now condensating bottle of tea on a coster, also from you, and went back to his work. Tomorrow would come soon enough

—————

A/N: aaaaa let me know what you guys think! also plot wise I am very open to collaboration, so let me know if you guys think of anything ~juicy~ and we can talk :)

also did anyone catch the surprise guest reference >:) hehehe

the classical music I mentioned is my fav symphony lol shameless insert. I’m getting a degree in music, what can I say 😌

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hc #lucifer fic #lucifer x mc

161 notes · View notes