#final post of this gorgeous serie of photos | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saerins · 5 months

Text

⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.

But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.

After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.

Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.

It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.

Because it’s dated a few weeks back.

The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you.

The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)

All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even

Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.

Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!

Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.

“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.

Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.

Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.

“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.

All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.

“Yikes.”

“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.

Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”

“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.

Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”

You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”

Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”

For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”

By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”

“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.

Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”

In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”

He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”

“But we didn’t amount to anything.”

“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.

“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”

Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”

It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.

“And?”

You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.

“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.

You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.

Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.

“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.

You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.

“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.

Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.

“You knew?”

“Yeah…”

“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.

He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.

And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.

“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”

Oh.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?

Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.

Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.

With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.

“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?

Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.

“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”

Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.

“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”

Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”

Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.

“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”

That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.

You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.

“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.

Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.

“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.

“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”

“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.

“We need to buy new pans.”

Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.

He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”

And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.

“Sae!”

“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)

Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.

You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?

Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”

You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”

Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”

Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.

“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”

There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”

And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.

“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”

As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.

Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”

And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(

You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.

Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.

Two days fly by way too quickly.

The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.

You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.

It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.

You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.

Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.

Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)

Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.

“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.

Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you.

Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).

The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.

So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.

At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.

“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.

On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.

“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.

He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.

“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?”

You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”

With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.

Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.

Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.

Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.

“Hey, Y/N?”

When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.

“Goodnight, Sae.”

Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.

For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)

But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.

When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.

Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.

Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.

Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.

By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.

But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes.

On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.

And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot.

You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.

Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.

Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.

Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.

There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)

Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.

He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.

You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?

“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.

You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.

And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.

That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?

So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?

Is it too much if you ask him about it?

“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”

A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”

You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.

There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.

“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”

It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @tsukishiro-yue2402 @kaiserkisser @pookiebearcave @dcvilxswish @saeskiss @whtflrr @arminseas @raphsimp @saharei @danibxe @lectris00 @comet-kun @ishitam67 @gskill @sweet2wthsblog *bolded: can’t tag you due to your settings >_<

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #blue lock #૪ aeri’s fics !

336 notes · View notes

eveningepiphany · 9 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 2

the girlies asked so I deliver!

read part one here, or check out my masterlist!

summary: after the accidental cafe run in, harry and y/n have wound up with each others numbers. and are quick to go from casual texting to organising another time to meet up. including a cafe trip and an unexpected ice creamery visit.

warnings: fluff, swearing, minor mentions of alcohol, nothing too heavy, just our lovely italyrry who is the sweetest ever.

a/n: thank you all so so much for the incredible amount of support on the first part of this official series. and also for your patience in waiting for me to hurry up and post an update. i know it’s been like 2 weeks since the first part, but I really wanted to give you something i took my time working on <3

———

There’s a certain type of disbelief that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s the kind that you feel straight to your core. That randomly dumps on you during the day like a bucket of water, and leaves your head spinning like that very bucket came crashing down with it.

It happens in a single moment, but lingers for a long time after the fact.

That’s exactly how you felt after harry texted you first. Because not even a few hours later after you’d exchanged numbers, he sent you through, not only a message, but a photo of all things.

One that made your heart swell with its endearing qualities.

A photo of a plate, filled with the food you’d told him earlier that day was one of your favourites.

Sent with a further little message below it,

Your favourite is currently up for grabs at the family gathering. H

The way he’d signed his intial off at the bottom had you nearly throw your phone across the room at how adorable it was.

Like as if you didn’t even know who you were texting.

Again it strewn your thought— is he aware the kind of mental effect this is having on you? Because you’re borderline going to need to phone for an ambulance.

You’re a simple person. A fangirl, to say the least. This shit, despite being able to say ‘I’ve met and talked with Harry Styles for more than 10 minutes’ does not just disappear.

And you had promised yourself not to tell anyone that this had happened— or was happening? Because there would be nothing worse than this somehow ending up online.

And not to treat him like a flighty deer instead of a grown man, but you would hate for that to place a kind of distrust in his hands.

However, all of that self-agreement doesn’t take away the nagging voice in your head that just wants to tell at the very least your immediate friends and family.

But you’re proud to say— after a long 2 minutes of pacing around your hotel room— you manage to craft a reply back.

Well, only after a few rough and undeniably embarrassing drafts that quickly get deleted out of the text bar.

You’re back to sitting on the floor against the bed frame, facing the window looking out on the gorgeous colours of the evening Italian sky.

Heart pounding, and you’re sure this scene from a third person perspective would look like it was pulled from a hallmark movie.

Girl fawning over man’s simple text. Kicking her feet in the glow of Italian sun, with a glass of wine on the floor next to her.

You stared at your finalised message and decided if you didn’t send it now, you would spiral into a never ending pit of doubt. And just end up overthinking the whole thing.

So you just did it. And now on the screen, under his blue message, was your own grey one.

there’s no way. it looks so good! im gonna see if it’s on my room service menu tbh. consider me inspired.

You bit your knuckles. Acting up like a fucking teenager. Waiting for the shock to subside before you actually get up to find the hotel menu.

After you replied back, you were sweating, honestly. Anxious at the fact you had just sent a text to Harry Styles. And unlike a conversation, that shit is permanent. So too bad if it comes off embarrassing.

Which of course, it didn’t on his end. Unbeknownst to you, he almost physically gleamed at sight of your name on his screen for the first time.

You’d nearly dropped your glass of wine when your phone vibrated up on the counter of the hotels kitchen where it was charging.

It’d been about half an hour from when you replied, you’d since ordered room service and sat in your bed to watch tv.

You made sure to place your glass elsewhere as you ran over to grab your phone.

If it wasn’t already all gone I’d save you some. Any luck with the room service?

You’d replied back swiftly, disregarding any kind of waiting to text back rule. You were all too eager to wait.

i managed to score some up from the room service. didn’t look as appetising as yours, but it was still enjoyed. x

And at this, he smiled, looking at the Italian sunset as he thought of you with a curiosity he recognised as all too unhealthy.

———

If you had told yourself two days ago in that cafe, that you have had several full conversations with harry after getting his number… you probably would have laughed.

Yet its not a joke of any kind. You can pinch yourself over and over again looking at those texts, but all you’ll end up with is a bruise and they will be just as real.

But as you read over the most recently received one, pinching would have not been enough of a reality check.

Maybe a frying pan? Probably would do the trick.

You scanned over his words, rubbing your eyes like you were tired and seeing shit— even though you’d been awake since 9am, which was 2 hours ago.

Unless you have plans, I’m going to try this cafe a friend recommended me a while back, if you wanted to tag along?

[ 1 attachment link]

And there’s simply no way that this is happening? But after 30 seconds without a follow up text telling you he’s accidentally sent this to the wrong person, you sit up straight.

Well, you’re not about to ask him if he’s serious right now, so you channel every fibre of casualness left within you and use it to construct a response.

id love to! I’ll get ready to go soon if you want to meet there before 12:30?

That works perfectly. did you need a lift, or are you in walking distance. I can pick you up if you need.

You almost keel over at his offer, and the absolute gentleman move he just made.

You also realise you didn’t even look where the cafe was. Because if Harry Styles asks you to go somewhere with him the answer should always be yes. Figure out the means of getting there and back later.

Either way you open the link and get taken to google maps, and the cafe in question is literally a 10 minute walk away from you.

im in walking distance, it’s about 10 minutes away. so I’ll just make my way there at about 12:15! thank you for the lovely offer though.

And you move as quickly as possible from your bed to your suitcase, ready to tear that thing apart for an outfit.

You don’t want to be over the top, but you have to go with something on the shorter side because it’s already in the high 20’s and it’s not even afternoon yet. So you lug out the many summer dresses you crammed in there, hoping that one of them will strike your interest.

Some get tossed back into your bag as you filter through them, not making the cut for a variety of reasons— like showing too much of your cleavage.

Yea, a good few of them get ruled out for that reason.

But eventually— and thank god, because you were starting to loose hope— you find one that is perfect for the occasion. It’s all types of flowy and comfortable, but still maintains the pretty connotation that summer dresses are known for.

Before putting it on, you go into the bathroom and do your morning routine— fixing your hair as a final step, but deciding to leave it out since there is hardly any wind outside to make it a mess. Plus it will suit the dress.

You somehow managed to take long enough that the next time you look at your phone you realise it’s nearing 12:15pm a lot faster than you expected. So you hustle to get the rest of your shit together, and make your way out the door.

The walk there is as peaceful as you could imagine, just the sounds of chatter from passer-by’s and birds lingering in trees dotting the sidewalk.

But on the inside you are still panicking. The last time you’d meet him in a cafe was a total surprise. This time it’s planned, and that leaves too much room for your brain to overthink it.

As you finally push through the doors of the cafe you had found your way to, a tiny bell above jingles. But you’re hardly focused on it as you look to the front counter.

Seeing the exact person you were here for already grabbing two drinks from a barista at what you can only assume is a pickup counter.

As he spins around, he catches your momentary surprise, complimented by flushed cheeks. To this he smiles and nods you over with his head.

He looked excited to see you. Like a longtime pair of friends meeting up again after a while apart.

Your feet kick back into gear at his nod, following him over to a table that’s tucked into the corner. He had his pleasing bag slung across the top of the chair.

“Hi lovely,” he says the minute you’re close enough to hear his deep voice.

“Hi Harry.” You smile, heart still beating too fast. The words feeling different as they get spoken from your mouth.

He walks the few steps around the table, closing the gap still between you— and he doesn’t wait for you to hug him, he just pulls you straight into the warmth of his arms.

Wrapping you up in a way that you can smell the cologne lingering on the dip of his neck into his shoulder.

His accent is muffled by your hair as he talks gently, “how’ve you been?”

The common question has your head reeling. In its simplicity is still sweetness.

You pull back, his eyes training on yours, looking keenly at you, awaiting an answer from your almost shy lips.

“I�� yes, I’ve been really good thank you.” You nod, how could you not be? Look where your standing, who you’re standing with.

“What about you…?” You ask, watching as the corners of his pink mouth upturn.

He’s freshly shaven, you notice, and your fingers twitch with the need to glide over the smooth skin of his cheek.

You resist as he answers, still relatively closer than you should be out in a public place.

“I’m doing well, even better now.” He raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin coming on his face.

He revels in blood that rushes into your cheeks, reddening them up like you’ve just run a mile.

“Oh, stop it. You’re a bloody flirt.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to play it off, and you also take a step back to seat yourself in the chair at the table he’d picked.

Maybe he was a flirt at most times. But from his perspective, with you in a dress like that? Not to sound like he’s drawing on the one direction lyrics, but as if you don’t know you’re beautiful.

I mean, sure, he thinks you’re aware that you’re pretty. But in the way it’s working him up, you seem to be clueless.

Because he’s almost stumbling on his words at the sight of you, soft fabric flowing seamlessly over your tan skin, cutting off above your knees leaving him with thoughts that he should not be having in a public space.

But at the same time, he tries to convince himself it’s nothing but a wholesome coincidental friendship. Even though if at any point tabloids get a hold of this, it will be very very far from that.

You’re watching as he looks a little caught up in thought, and you chuckle at it.

The sweet noise breaks him out of it, and he’s grateful for that. It was a rabbit hole he was happy to just not go down right now.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, going over to his own seat.

“Now, i need the full story of what happened with your friends luggage at the Singapore airport?”

You let out a laugh, a little surprised he even remembers to bring it up. You had been texting about travel, and told him the time your friend had her luggage lost in a layover between Singapore and London last month.

“I mean, where did it leave it off?” You had explained a partial amount of the story. But told him, if you’d planned another cafe trip it would be a lot easier to explain the ins and outs.

And he was overly excited to watch you tell the tale. Watch the way your hands moved as you animatedly told the story, and the way your eyes get a little lost in thought.

He caught tiny glimpses of it the first time you’d met, but he craved to watch it happen in full. Among other things.

You told him how you’d had 12 hour layover, but that you guys didn’t want to book a hotel since they were so expensive. But you were still meant to collect your luggage— and everyone else but your friend Bonnie got it back.

“She’s Scottish, crazy red hair and she is like a fire cracker. She was actually at the last show, in the front with us, but anyway— so she’s running around Singapore airport accosting all the staff with her stressed out and angry Scottish accent.”

You went back and forth with the many fuck arounds of that day, how you went from halfway across the airport to a misplaced baggage unit per a staffs advice, only for the lady at the front desk to say it wasn’t there— and to go back to the support centre.

“It was not funny at the time,” you said, “but fuck, looking back now it’s pretty good. And it makes a fun story to tell.”

“So where did she actually get her stuff back?” He asks, frowning with a curious smile.

“Oh, like 6 hours after we originally got off the plan. They’d told us to wait up at that little customer support place and after like another hour and a half, some really frazzled guy came running up with it.”

And you laughed at the image in your head, sweaty and looked terrified he’d gotten the wrong bag, “We asked where it had gotten lost, but he just asked if it was certainly ours, then when we said yes he nodded and practically ran the other way.”

Harry was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

“God, is that quite a story.”

“See why I said texting it would have been way too hard.” You amend, reaching for the deserted cup of tea you hadn’t even drank out of yet, taking a sip.

Exactly how you like it, and you smile. Watching him watch you drink it.

“Just how you like it, yea?” He asks to confirm. But also lost a little in the way the liquid seamlessly travels from the cup down your throat.

“Yea, perfect.” You nod, clutching the warm cup between your hands, tongue swiping out over your lips.

“Anyways, what about your own crazy travel stories. Since you’ve done plenty of it.” You prompt, unaware of his remaining gaze.

The afternoon went of just like that. Telling stories and sharing funny little anecdotes that had you laughing so hard that tears were about to spill from your waterline.

You slowly forget that it’s Harry Styles you’re sitting with. And of course that sounds weird. But it’s like there came a certain point in the afternoon where he just became simply Harry.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It had been a rather long time you sat in that same cafe with him. So much that the chairs, originally very comfortable, had started to become the opposite as time flew on.

“Are these chairs starting to hurt your ass too?” He asks, humour lacing his tone as he watches you adjust yourself in the chair for the third time in the last 10 minutes.

“Yea, the metal seats are lowkey not it.” At this he laughs, the way you word things somehow being more entertaining than most.

“Well, cmon, I already paid, we can go for a walk if you want?” He rises from his place, and you’ve never stood up quicker.

“Braving the Italian sun at its very brightest are we?” You joke, smiling as he grabs his bag and slings it over one of his broad shoulders.

“Could be a big regret, could also be very scenic.” He says as you grab both your empty cups.

“I forgot to put sunscreen on as well, so might have a different colour forehead to the rest of my body but… oh well.” he shurgs, following you over to the small bin by the cafe door.

You’re immediately thinking of the time he went to a show after going out golfing and he had a sunburnt head.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” And it takes you by surprise that the teasing words made it out of your mouth.

Yet, he seems happily indifferent to it, like it’s of course something you’d know, “Whatever you.”

Your laughing at his response as you hold the door open for him, exiting the cafe into the heat.

A tortured sigh is let out of you both at the swelter of it. The concrete pavement doing nothing but intensify it.

“I underestimate the weather every day here, I’m wearing too many layers of clothing to be dealing with this.”

“Take your hoodie off you dolt.”

He usually keeps layers on so that his tattoos are less visible. Since they’re often a dead giveaway of who he is. So his hands hesitates as they slip to the hem of his jumper.

“Don’t tell me you went out with just a jumper on, no other layers. In Italy?” You shake your head, still smiling as you slowly walk into the shaded part of the sidewalk.

“No— I did.” He laughs, “just m’tattoos usually garner some attention.”

He clarifies, “that sounded really egotistical, not the tattoos themselves, I meant people recognise me easier when they’re out.”

“Oh!” You stumble a little in your thought process. Feeling a little silly for not realising.

“I kind of like… forgot?” You say, coming to a stop as he eventually succumbs to the heat and peels the jumper over his head. Folding it up and popping it into his bag, glancing at you with a tiny breathe of relief at his new found ventilation. Hands moving to tousle with his hair in attempt to flatten it after pulling the jumper over it.

“I mean, i did. too honestly.” He agrees, continuing to walk forward.

You read into that a million different ways. But he makes sure you don’t get confused, “Y/N, don’t look so worried. I just mean you’re a very easy person to get… i dunno, lost in.”

Oh okay? How does one just casually continue putting one foot in front of the other after someone says something like that?

“You flatter me too much.” You roll your eyes, still as awful as ever at masking your shock or adoration for something someone’s said.

“Cmon, you’re just too humble i think.” He bumps you with his shoulder.

You’re laughing at him. But stop dead in your tracks as you stop something across the road.

“H.” You say, and he also comes to a halt. Taking a moment to process your use of his nickname. Like the way it so gently came from you.

Yet you sound almost dire, so he’s looking over where you are, scanning the sunny street for something that could possibly concern you?

For a moment he thinks it may be paparazzi, but this side of town is usually much better in regards to that.

He feels protective of you, “What? Are you okay?”

“There’s ice cream over there.” You say, hand coming up to cover your mouth a little.

A breath of relief fills his lungs, “i— you made it out like this was a life or death situation about t’unfold.”

Your expression turns to a grin, “no, i just love Italian ice creameries!”

“Can we please go and get some?” You glance back to him, and his own smile widens at your face. Gleaming with this unfiltered excitement over something so simplistic.

“Of course we can.” And you’re immediately grabbing his wrist to tug him across the road towards the shop.

“As if I could say no to you, anyway.” He laughs as he keeps up with your quick pace, clearly on a mission.

Once inside the store, with its pink and mint coloured walls and decor, you move to look at the collection of flavours.

The staples such as vanilla and strawberry, but then a small selection of more slightly diverse ones, like peanut butter brownie or salted caramel.

Their cookie dough ice cream looks amazing though, filled with chocolatey chunks of cookie. So you decide relatively fast that’s what you want.

And then you turn to Harry, whose eyes are still darting between flavours indecisively.

“What one do you want?” You ask, and he adverts his eyes to you.

“No I’ll order.” He shakes his head.

“No-no. Let me get this for you, please.” He goes to protest and you nudge him with your elbow, “don’t be stubborn. I want to get you something.”

“I— fine. But know you’re just as pushy as i am.” He scoffs with a laugh.

“I’ll get… maybe chocolate?” He points to it, and you nod.

The older lady at the counter is overly lovely, and you’re rattling off your order to her with a beaming smile.

Harry watches your interaction with her, and how you take a moment to compliment the heart covered apron she was wearing.

His heart trips over it’s own rhythm at the sight.

You pays and he still feels a little guilty, but figures he can make it up to you next time they go out by getting you a cookie or two with your tea.

You come back to his side with the two cones, stacked two scoops tall, and hand one to him.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to though.”

“It’s fine, Harry. Do you wanna find somewhere outside to sit?” You ask, turning to wave at the lady who served you as your slowly exiting the shop.

“Sure, i saw that little bench under a tree a couple shops down near that park.” He nods, taking his turn to lead the way there.

You shortly find the way there, sitting yourselves down on it, looking out onto a small playground with some kids swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide.

“Italian ice cream will forever be the best kind of ice cream.” You sigh out with pleasure, licking over the cool scoop.

He unwittingly is blushing at the sight, suddenly batting away mental images at the sight of your pink tongue jutting out of your mouth.

Shaking his head, he pushes them aside. “Definitely. You can tell it’s handmade.”

He busies his own tongue on his own ice cream, only stealing occasional glances to you at his side.

But he can’t help but tilt his cone to you, “Wanna try the chocolate?”

His offer comes as the equivalent of a brick to the head, but you’re invested in making yourself not seem psychotic.

So you nod nonchalantly, “i will, but I have a feeling that’s just because you want some of mine.”

“Mm, maybe I do a little.” He agrees, but any other coherent thought dies where it was in his head at you leaning over to his own cone. Your tongue running over the ice cream, collecting up its sweet residue.

You nod, “That’s so good.” Acting like you’ve got a normal internal monologue right now. Even though she’s hurling things at you that you can’t all process in such a short flash of time.

You just put your mouth where his has been! He is about to do the same thing! His eyes look a little blown out! What the fuck!

Pretty much what it sounds like up there, along with some alarm bells and screaming.

However you just gesture your cone to him, taking mental images of him mirroring what you did just before.

He hums a sound of enjoyment as he pulls back, glancing up at you, pinning you with his green gaze. “Good choice.”

You agree with a slight mumble, shaking your head momentarily to clear your thoughts. Ready to change the subject so you can internally recollect yourself.

“I only regret sitting out here since it’s melting so fucking fast.”

“I know,” he also settles quickly back into the normality of the moment, “i cant eat it quicker than the rate it’s melting.”

“It’s cold though, which is at least a win.”

Conversation trails on as normal while you finish off the ice cream. Discussing if biting the bottom off an ice cream cone is normal or not.

And before you know it you check your phone when you get a text from your mum, asking what time you’re able to call tonight.

She misses you heaps, you can tell. But despite the timezone difference you are making it work.

You also glance up at the time and realise it’s nearing 4pm. And you have just spent majority of the afternoon with Harry.

You also realise you’d agreed to have dinner with all of your friends in one of their hotel rooms tonight.

“Seems like it’s my turn to have to be the one to bail.” You say, popping your phone in your back pocket and looking back at Harry.

“That’s okay, love, what’s the plans for the evening.”

You explain that you’ll go over the the girls hotel room and probably just eat pizza, and then go back to your own room and call your mum for a bit.

He feels a little sad you even have to leave, which is odd, but he nods anyway, “That sounds fun. Solid plan.”

You reluctantly rise from your seat next to him. “So…” you take a tiny breath in, “am I the one picking the next cafe we go to?”

He beams internally at the fact you’re also trying to plan the next time you’re able to meet up with each other.

“I reckon so, Angel.” He stands as well, “I’m good for any day.”

Any plans he has can be rearranged for you.

“Alright!” You feel better immediately knowing you can see him again soon.

“Thanks for the ice cream too, by the way.” He says, walking back over to the pathway with you.

“It’s okay.” You smile, nervously being the one to give him a goodbye hug. A small flutter erupts in your stomach as his hands pull you flush to him around your lower back.

“I’ll see you soon, mkay?”

“Yea. Ill talk to you later.” You remind yourself that he’s easily accessible to talk to. You literally have his number.

“Bye H.” You give him a squeeze, pulling away with a smile, “Bye Y/N.” And you wave as you start the walk back to your hotel. Plenty of things to think about.

———

“Did you guys see the supposed pics of harry today on harryflorals? He was hanging out with someone apparently!” Nina asks everyone.

Only two of you hadn’t, including yourself.

She passes the phone first to you, and you frown.

“I know, looks like it’s taken on a potato.” She says, assuming your furrowed brows are due to the fact the image is really hard to get anything from.

Unless you know that park bench he’s ‘allegedly’ sitting on. And that the blurry figure next to him is almost certainly you— but no one else can tell.

“Yea… shit that is…” You pause, brain freezing a little, “bad quality.”

You hand her phone back. But caption of the post still festering in your head long after the moment is over.

HARRY *SUPPOSEDLY* WITH A GIRL IN ITALY TODAY! but this is the only pic we got 💔

———

ahh and that’s part two! I hope you guys are enjoying this, and I’m so excited to write more about these two. cant wait for you to see what’s in store for them.

thank you again for your patience while waiting for this second part, and to all the lovely people who requested this oneshot to be made into something more.

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @lquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

807 notes · View notes

leclercinvegas · 10 months

Text

FEARLESS - instagram au

who: mick schumacher x vettle!reader

author's note: tbh he is the whole reason i'm starting this series. tbh idk what era mick is in for this imagine, but just go with it. also some of my fav other people are in this cause i thought it would have been cute. pretend the last pic is mick instead of pierre

summary: everyone can see the spark between the childhood best friends.

warnings: none

mickschumacher posted!

liked by ynvettle, kevinmagnussen, and 273,466 others

mickschumacher: being home means angie playtime

view all 859 comments...

user1: awww his dog is so cute!

user2: i want to steal her

ynvettle: please tell angie i miss her so much.

mickschumacher: you were here literally 15 minutes ago

ynvettle: your point? im coming over again.

ynvettle posted!

liked by sebastianvettle, mickschumacher, and 12,348 others

ynvettle: cause she doesn't get your humor like i do

view all 237 comments...

landonorris: you got a dog, any reason why?

user3: shes literally so gorgeous

yourbestfriend: you're my dorothea

mickschumacher: where are my photo credits for 3 of these pictures.

ynvettle: up my butt

mickschumacher: very mature yn

ynvettle: why thank you mr schumacher

jackhughes: come back to the lake house

ynvettle: ill be there in 2 weeks dont worry and im bringing a friend if thats okay

jackhughes: most definitely, the more the merrier

user4: jack and mick meetup? are my worlds colliding?

trevorzegras: you better visit soon

ynvettle: well if you're at the lake house ill see you then you silly goose

jamie.drysdale: i miss you y/n

ynvettle: i miss you more jamjam

user5: since when has y/n known all these hockey players?

mickschumacher posted!

liked by ynvettle, jackhughes, trevorzegras and 341,436 others

mickschumacher: made some new friends and new memories too

view all 1253 comments...

jackhughes: please come back next summer

mickschumacher: @ynvettle look i made a good impression! i would love to come back!

ynvettle: i figured you would make a good impression. i dont know why you were so worried

user7: oh my god. lake house. mick and y/n. with y/n's friends. things are happening. idk what things are but they're happening

ynvettle: i had the time of my life with you. im so glad you got to meet everyone :)

user8: please tell me thats y/n in the firework picture. please.

sebastianvettle: staying safe i hope

mercedesamgf1: hope you're having fun mick!

trevorzegras: come back mick mouse please.

yourbestfriend: hm interesting choice of pictures mick

ynvettle added to their story!

ynvettle: wild hockey boys at candian gp

ynvettle posted!

liked by mickschumacher, jackhughes, and 23,698 others

ynvettle: come feel this magic i've been feeling since i met you, can't help it if there's no one else <3

comments are restricted

mickschumacher: its been years in the making

jackhughes: oh my god finally.

sebastainvettle: i knew this was going to happen at some point. @mickschumacher treat her well.

trevorzegras: please tell me mick mouse asked you and you didnt ask him

ynvettle: thats a secret that ill never tell

jamie.drysdale: i miss you again

ynvettle: ill come back soon or you could always come here jamjam

yourbestfriend: your friends to lovers dream has come true

mickschumacher: what??

ynvettle: why did you have to say that.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #imagines #prompt writing #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x yn #taylor swift #taylor swift fearless #friends to lovers

869 notes · View notes

gg-pedro · 3 months

Text

can you hear the music (ch. 6) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano, and you find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 5: joel loves you, and you let him. you could live a million more days like this.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, protective!joel, implied age gap, unprotected piv, ellie plays the piano, sweet smut, fingering, joel needs taking care of, bittersweet fluff, but almost entirely fluff, happy ending :)

words: 5.5k

a/n: grand finale! i hope i delivered for all of you. thank you endlessly, and from the bottom of my heart, for reading and supporting my stuff and this series. its been so incredibly fun and fulfilling. enjoy this!!

Life was sweet. Life was good.

You blinked and spring had become summer. The fields grew unruly with wild grass and baby’s breath, the sun shined longer. Clouds lingered, but they didn’t stay. Days were hot and saccharine.

You heard music everywhere. In the swallows outside your window at dawn, the rustle in the pear trees when the wind blew, in Joel’s voice when he hummed you to sleep. In the creaks in the floorboards that you had memorized as his footsteps, the hymns and nursery rhymes that kids sang, and in your old upright piano that was slowly losing falling out of tune.

It had been quiet for so long, but now it was loud– deafening at times. Impossible not to notice.

The best music of all, perhaps, was the songs Ellie was learning for the informal recital that you’d suggested she put on. And even sweeter than that was the way she’d changed since you first met. She no longer reminded you of a scared little girl, always choosing the fight over the flight. She was strong and bubbly and hilarious, and watching her find a reason to be proud of herself was even more rewarding than watching her become a talented musician.

The song selection was completely inappropriate, but it was perfect anyway: Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl (for her Joel, of course), the Jurassic Park theme, and finally, Ain’t Too Proud To Beg by the Temptations.

The two of you were conspiring against Joel for weeks now, planning the surprise for him and practicing whenever you got the chance.

You had a sneaking suspicion that he and Ellie were hiding something from you, too. Ellie was far too giddy when she saw the two of you together. She lingered a little too long after dinner, or when you were sleeping over, or when you’d planned a day to spend together.

If Ellie had one fault, it was that she was awful at keeping secrets.

After inviting you out on a horse ride through the outskirts of the perimeters of Jackson, Joel took a detour. He went northward, through the green woods and out into a clearing, and you were soon back at the white farmhouse.

It looked the same, aside from a little more wear on the outside from this year’s harsh winter and wet spring. The roof was still caving in and the doorway was still open. The ivy was thriving, twisting up towards the peak where the sun had worn away at the crisp white paint.

“You wanna see the inside?” Joel asked, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Is it safe?”

“I’m here, ain’t I?”

He helped you slide off the back of the mare, your hand slid instinctively into his as you walked up to the wrap around porch. Inside, the interior was fitted with dark hardwood and floral wallpaper that had started to fade and peel. In the front sitting room, the sun had bleached the upholstered arm chairs and faded the photos on the wall. Still, it was beautifully preserved, clear that this place was home to a lifetime of memories.

The breeze blowing in through the front door was warm as Joel took both of your hands into his. He was slightly tanned now, and patches of his salt and pepper hair looked more caramel. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when you looked at him– he was gorgeous, and you loved him, and he was yours.

“I know I can’t give you this,” he started quietly. “I wish I could, baby. I would if I could.”

“I’d never ask you for this, Joel,” you countered.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re sweet and you never ask for things, not even if you wanted to.” He brought up a hand to brush your hair behind your ears. He always said he liked it when it was out of the way, because he liked seeing your face. “I’m wanna ask you for somethin’, though”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I want you to move in. With us. Me and Ellie. Before you–”

“Joel–”

“–she really looks up to you, you’re good for her. It’d mean somethin’ to her, and to me. I know, I know, I’ve asked you a hundred times, but I’m askin’ for real this time,” he said, cutting you off once and for all.

“It wasn’t real all those other times?” You looked at him with a smile. “What would we be then, if we lived together? What would you call me?”

His partner. His wife? Just his, maybe.

You looked away from him for a moment, watching the sunlight as it poured through the windows and highlighted everything in orange. The shelves propped up against the walls were lined with books and picture frames and knicknacks. There was still a throw blanket draped over the couch. People had built a life here, and were likely forced to abandon it all.

When you looked back, Joel was reaching into his pocket to pull out something that was small and caught in the light. It was thin and shiny gold, a ring with three symmetric diamonds set into the band. He took your hand, dirt under your clipped fingernails and all, and slid it onto your ring finger.

“I’m not askin’ you to marry me. We can call it that, if that means anythin’ to you. I just want to give you somethin’ nice. A nice life where I can keep you safe. We can paint the house, fix it up inside a little. Give you somethin’ like this. I’ll call you anything you want.”

You laughed at the way Joel was dancing around his words, and the way that he continuously fidgeted with the ring on your finger. Always avoiding strings, giving you a way out before you even had the chance to get a word in. You wished you had found a way in all this time to make him understand your commitment to him, without a ring or a pretty house or any of it.

You just rested your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. His hands found the small of your waist and you melted into each other with a familiar rhythm. Light was striking your eyes as you pulled back, and you nodded.

A life. A nice one. Yes. A thousand times yes.

“A ring and all, hm?” you replied quietly, still wrapped up in him. “Yes. That’s my answer this time.”

He kissed your cheek, and you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “Okay. Okay, good. I love you.”

You leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around you from the side. “I love you, too.”

Again, you stared at the picture frames still hung on the wall. A full family– parents, kids, grandparents, all commemorated permanently in this house. You could have something like this, too. Not everything had come to an end when the world had fallen apart. People persisted. Love, connection, and happiness. It was still here, alive and humming in all of the places you had been.

You realized now, in Joel’s arms, that you had to start from scratch. Build up the beautiful life that was already budding before you. This was something you would fight for.

Fresh white paint slopped messily onto chipped brown walls, Joel in the corner of your eye with paint splattered on his own worn t-shirt.

You heard the sound of his footsteps padded by the sheets on the floor approaching you, even over the music that was flowing from the crank record player in the corner of the room. An old Frank Sinatra: Songs For Swiningin’ Lovers! record was spinning and skipping, songs from forever ago that made your heart feel a little heavier.

He grinned at you as he grabbed your waist, taking the paintbrush you held in your hand and holding it up out of your reach.

“Hey,” you warned when you broke the kiss, “I’m picking up your slack over here.”

He laughed and swiped his thumb over your cheek. “I see that. Got paint all over your pretty face.”

As you were about to protest, he kissed you again and his hands trailed down to your hips and ass. He tasted like cool silver and sparks of electricity. His beard scratched your face as he started to back you up to the wall. The paintbrush clattered to the floor.

The two of you had been systematically moving furniture and covering whatever else you could as you started the process of freshening up his and Ellie’s place. Your place, too. You’d all but cleared your own house out, and you felt your lives officially combining. The whole process of knowing Joel had been like passing right through him. Knowing him deeply– the good, the bad, and the ugly– until you could stand on the other side and look him in the eye and say that you loved all of it.

“You up for a break?” He offered with his mouth ghosting your collar.

“Painting’s gonna take forever if you keep this up,” you pointed out.

“Not my fault that y’look so damn good in overalls.”

You laughed, and he laughed, and he slung you over his shoulder before you could get another word in to carry you upstairs.

You shed your clothes like a second skin onto the floor, lying bare for each other in the sunlit bedroom you shared. Joel fucked you differently now. There was no desperation, no quickness, no fear that you were going to disappear beneath him. He fucked you sickeningly slow, torturously, like he had realized that it would last a lifetime. A lifetime of feeling you.

His tongue met all of your weak spots while his fingers breached your throbbing entrance. He pumped long, gratuitous beats with his ring and middle finger and you shook as the ridges and years of wear on his hands hit every pressure point that made you feel good.

Compliments and praise rolled off his tongue and reverberated into your body. Sweet girl. Pretty little thing. Feels good, huh? Beautiful. Tell me you feel good, baby. Just like that. Mine. Mine.

It felt like he could make you come with his voice alone.

He liked playing with you, though. Knew intimately how weak he made you. Still, you felt like you could give your most vulnerable self over to him and he would protect it with his life.

“Joel, Joel– so close–”

He paused his work, meeting your eyes between your parted thighs. “Not yet, darlin’, I’m gonna feel you come. Wanna feel it.”

Tilting your hips up to meet his, he hooked your legs on his shoulders and thrusted methodically inside of you. He stopped every once in a while to tease your clit, still crying for attention, with the wet head of his cock. You moved your hand down to touch yourself, rubbing fast circles against the spot, but he grabbed your hand away and insisted on stimulating you himself.

He treated you too well. Didn’t want you lifting a finger while he was taking care of you. With his free hand he felt you up all over, raising the hairs on your body and making you shiver. He loved watching what he did to you. Loved when you made him feel drunk and desperate.

The one thing you could give was grabbing his arm as you came, letting him feel your walls convulse and shudder around his cock. That was usually his trigger– he couldn’t stand it much longer as he watched you whine and moan around his name, repeating it over and over like a fiery prayer.

Oh, Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

Sweating and panting in the small room, already hot from the harsh summer, he laid there quietly with you. You could hear You Make Me Feel So Young still warbling from the record player as you ran your hand up and down his side.

Dark brown lashes met his skin as his eyes slipped shut. You couldn’t tell if he was getting old fast or just getting more comfortable with you, because it seemed like he was falling asleep next to you every chance he got.

You were glad. Setting all of your happiness and contentment being with him, you were glad that you made him feel safe– to watch those walls that he’d built up so high and impenetrable to slowly drop since you’d met him.

You propped yourself up to lean over and kiss the bridge of his nose. “Was this your plan all along? Tire both of us out so you had an excuse to stop painting for the day?”

He cracked an eye open, a smile spreading on his face. “M’not tired. You paint all you want, baby, I could watch you all day.”

“Mhm, making me do all the work, as per usual.” You shut your eyes and dropped your head against his chest.

“You’re too young to complain. I’m too old.”

“Not too old to fuck me like that, though?”

He laughed in a way that told you he was also rolling his eyes. “Never too old for that.”

“Touché, Miller.”

Your breathing started to even out and your skin felt temperate from the sun breaking through the curtains. Joel’s arms were firmly tucked around you and it almost felt like an instinct. He protected you, even if you didn’t want him to. Took care of you when he didn’t have to. Loved you just because he could.

You let him. You could live a million more days like this.

You painted more walls, filled old cracks, broke a pipe or two in the process. Joel was always there to fix things. It was messy and far from a perfect renovation, but it was home and that was enough.

Your personal passion project, however, was fixing up the backyard. With the lawn mowed and overgrown weeds under control, you were determined to start a garden. You picked a six by three patch of land towards the back, adjacent to the huge bur oak that provided a nice radius of shade for half the day until the sun shifted.

Joel had built the wooden perimeter for you and you had nurtured the rest. All it took was a morning of ripping up grass and a few seed packets from the town’s garden, and your plants were already starting to breach the soil and bloom. On a particularly warm afternoon, watering can in hand, you were worried that the zucchini was going to overtake the whole thing.

From the corner of your eye you saw Ellie slide out of the back door and stomp over to the shade of the oak tree, promptly laying down on the cool grass with a groan. Her hair, usually tied back in a practical ponytail, was sprawled out on the ground beneath her head.

Wordlessly, you dropped the watering can and sank down a few feet away, facing her.

“What’s up with you, kid?”

She huffed again, covering her eyes with her forearms. “My hair’s too fucking long,” she said at last. “Making everything hot. I wish I was bald.”

You laughed. “I’ll shave it off, if you want.”

She lifted her arm slightly to look over at you. “It’d look sick, right?”

“Yeah. Super metal,” you agreed. “You’d still be pretty bald by wintertime, though.”

She only groaned at that revelation.

“Do you know how to braid?” You asked, lying down on your back. The tree was rustling in the wind and the gaps in the leaves allowed thin beams of light through.

“Like, a regular braid? Kinda… falls out, though. Then I have to care about it.”

“French braids, then? The kind that goes up your whole head?”

“It’d look stupid,” she concluded. “I’m not seven.”

“No, c’mon. It’ll stay in for a few days, too. If it’s out of your face, you won’t even have to think about it.”

She sat up this time, running her fingers back and forth through the grass. “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you. Go get a brush and some hair ties.”

With simply surviving being Ellie’s number one priority for so long, you doubted she had ever put much mental energy into caring about how she looked. A hairstyle and clothes were surely an afterthought when living to see the next day had been so uncertain. But she was a teenage girl who had been at a comfortable distance from death for a while now, and she deserved to feel good about herself. Pretty, even.

So the two of you sat, her sat criss-crossed in front of you as you got to work on parting her hair into two and weaving tight plaits into each side. You tried to be as precise and methodical as possible without pulling too hard or making her sit there for too long. Her hair was long, thick and slightly wavy in the humidity.

You put both hands on her shoulders when you were done, admiring your work. “Better? Turn, let me see the front.”

She did as she was told, smoothing her hands over the braids that sat on her shoulders. “Yeah, this is better.”

“You look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You tilted your head and smiled at her. “If you like it, I’ll show you how to do it on yourself.”

She shrugged as she stood up, taking the brush and comb from your hands. “Dunno. Ponytails are like, a billion times easier.”

“If you say so.” You caught her wrist before she could turn to walk away. “Offer still stands. I’m always here for… girl stuff. I know a lot more about some things than Joel. Okay?”

“Yeah, girl stuff. Hair and periods and shit. Got it. Thanks.” She waved you off dismissively.

“I’m serious. Just know that,” you called after her.

“I heard you!” She yelled back, already halfway across the lawn.

Joel came home later than expected that night, long after the two of you had eaten dinner. He was half expecting you and Ellie to be in bed by then, so it came as a surprise when he shut the front door and heard back and forth bickering mixed with tearful laughter pouring out of Ellie’s bedroom.

Quietly, he made his way upstairs, lingering by her door that was slightly ajar. Warm, pink light seeped out of the space along with the familiar sound of her giggle.

With a fistful of your hair in her hand, trying and failing at her attempt to create a presentable french braid, you were winded from laughter.

“For how awful this looks, Ellie, I don’t know how you’re managing to scalp me.”

“I’m doing it like you showed me! Grab a chunk from here, put it together, put it over the middle. Chunk, together, middle. Chunk–”

She yanked on a thick strand of hair. “Jesus, ow.”

“Shut up, it looks great.”

Holding up a mirror to your hair, you shook your head.“It looks like I got in a fight with a rabid animal and lost.”

Ellie laughed again, her grip going weak as she flopped backwards onto her bed. Shaking out the rest of your hair, Joel watched you lay down next to her, trying to catch your breath as you wiped tears from your eyes. You looked at each other in the dim pink light, twin grins on your faces.

“Do you regret your offer now?” Ellie asked.

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

Joel pressed himself up against the wall in the hallway, smiling to himself. Things were so bad for so long. When things are bad enough for long enough, you think it’ll stay that way forever. You think it’ll never be good again. You think you’ve changed for the worse.

Joel often discounted himself, thinking that all that bad had done something irreversible to him– an insidious, evergreen thing that he wouldn’t be able to tear out of himself.

But you– Ellie– his girls, you washed that away in him every new day with you. Soothed burns from a lifetime ago, siphoned out poison that felt like it had eroded him entirely. Things could still be good. He could be good for the two of you, at least.

With time, everything heals. He was sure of it.

The only thing missing from your new home was a piano.

It was the last thing to move, and it took you, Joel, Tommy, and a few passersbys who were tired of watching the three of you struggle to carry it just a few houses down the street.

You were heartbroken when the move had thrown it badly out of tune. You could play, but you were hardly a professional, and you were at a loss as to how one was supposed to tune an 88-key piano.

Joel watched you sit in front of it, hands steepled in front of your face after you had attempted to transpose a few songs you knew into something that sounded mildly similar, but it was no use.

He put a hand on your back as you stabbed the keyboard in a few more places, fingers moving fluidly as you played different scales. The sound was twingy and grating.

“It’s alright, hon. We’ll fix it,” he murmured.

“It was already old to begin with. I should’ve known. You’d have to take the whole face off, tune each one… and with what, a wrench? I don’t even know what it’s supposed to sound like.”

Joel was quiet for a while, inspecting the front panel of the instrument as you continued to play out of tune melodies. “I’m pretty handy, ain’t I? It’s not rocket science. You know what it’s supposed to sound like, c’mon now. You know the thing like the back of your hand.”

When you didn’t respond, Joel left the room. You dropped your forehead onto the keyboard, cringing when it made a loud, angry sound. Maybe this was a sign. You should never have disturbed it. You had this one perfect thing, this piano that had fallen right into your lap when you had moved to Jackson. It had changed everything. It made you feel human again. It felt like a sign from the universe, one that reaffirmed the creeping fear that you could only have so many good things and that you certainly never deserved them all.

Joel pulled you from your stupor when he sat down on the bench next to you. He had a screwdriver in hand, silently putting himself to work on revealing the hammers and the pin block. You didn’t lift your head from your hands until he started tapping on middle C, then crudely turning the tuning pin with a striking wrench until the sound was clear and in tune.

“Stop, stop, don’t touch it– that's it,” you said with your hand on his wrist.

He nodded, and you weren’t even sure he recognized the wave of relief that washed over your expression. He just went onto the next, D, until you signaled for him to stop when you heard the correct sound.

Joel sat with you for hours as the two of you worked on it. You took over after a while, making him play different chords on his guitar to ensure the sounds were matching up on the black and white keys together. You were almost certainly driving the neighbors insane, hitting the same notes over and over again until muscle memory kicked in and it sounded like it was right.

It was an amateur's job, undoubtedly. Any trained musician would probably be horrified by your heavy handedness, your unreliable ear for the notes, Joel’s corroboration on the guitar– it wasn’t perfect. To you, though, it was. By the time you had adjusted every tuning pin, it sounded better than it ever had before.

Tired and driven a little crazy from the incessant noise, you and Joel sank down into the couch. The main panel still needed to be reattached, the floor cleaned from loose sheet music and tools, but it didn’t matter. He wrapped his left arm around you like he always did, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“Told you,” he chided.

“Thank you. I love you.”

You dropped your head into the warm crook of his neck, and he didn’t say anything back. He didn’t have to. He’d been telling you he loved you for the past three hours, in his own secret language that enveloped you and hummed quietly in the air. I’d do anything for you, it said, whether it be peeling your orange or fixing your old piano or falling on his own sword. For you, I would. I would I would I would.

“Don’t have to thank me, m’just glad you’re happy.”

You didn’t have much left to repay him with. You don’t think you’d ever be out of debt with him, for giving you everything. You would have to make it up to him.

With your piano renewed and that nagging empty feeling confidently shut out of your head, you and Ellie practiced together like mad. She was insistent on rehearsing the songs she had picked for her recital until they were entirely flawless.

You forced her to set a date to show Joel out of fear that she’d never come to a point where she felt satisfied with herself. He went out with Tommy that day, promising he’d bring something back for the two of you, which signaled that he would be gone for the afternoon and into the evening.

You braided Ellie’s hair, fixed up your new home together, and taught her how to bow at the end of her very informal performance. She was refreshingly giddy and excited, telling you over and over again how surprised Joel would be.

“He already knows you’re good, hon,” you reminded her.

“Yeah, but I’m like super fucking good now. Bet he doesn’t know what my dainty little lady fingers can do.”

You laughed, pulled her in close to your side, and agreed before she asked to practice one more time before he got home.

When you heard him at the door that remained permanently unlocked, you were in the middle of dragging two chairs from the kitchen into the living room to position by the piano. You greeted him, and he kissed you long and slow, grabbing you from behind.

“You look nice. Really pretty, darlin’. Why’re all the lights off? Am I forgetting somethin’?” He said, a hint of concern in his low voice.

You shook your head and pulled yourself away from him. “No. We have a surprise for you,” you revealed. “Go up and change into something nice. We’ll be down here.”

You could see the gears turning in Joel’s mind, leafing through his recollection of birthdays and anniversaries and any other thing he could think of that would warrant a surprise.

“Everything’s fine, Joel. Better than fine. Good. It’s just us.”

He put his hands up in surrender before disappearing up the stairs.

You sat next to Ellie on the piano bench, wrapping both of her hands up in yours. A single, loose french braid ran down her head and spilled over onto her shoulder. A few stubborn flyaways curled up around her temple and framed her face.

“You look perfect. You’ll be great. It’s Joel, anyway, you could play Baa Baa Black Sheep and he’d give you a standing ovation.” You smiled.

She nodded, smiling alongside you. “Yeah, I know.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, so you pulled her into a long hug before letting them fall. The universe worked in funny ways, you thought. You had Ellie to thank for bringing Joel here, and Maria for forcing her into trivial music lessons after music had become little more than obsolete after the world had come to a screeching halt.

But mostly, you wanted to thank her for showing her so much good. For reminding you that some things, the most important things, never really did fade.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Yeah… you’re welcome. For whatever I did.”

Joel came down the stairs slowly, evident that he was tired and his right side was bothering him again. He had a hand on the healed scar on his abdomen when he entered the living room, dressed in fresh jeans and a green button down.

“Surprise!” Ellie exclaimed. “You have to listen to my ‘recital.’ Just sit back and enjoy, old man.” She grinned.

“Oh man, this is a surprise. Y’all should’ve told me about this,” he said, making his way over to one of the kitchen chairs that were placed a few feet away from the piano. “I’m all ears. Play away, kiddo.”

You took your seat next to Joel, and he grabbed your hand to squeeze it. When you looked over to him as Ellie played the preamble to Uptown Girl, his eyes were a little shiny.

She played like a true pianist. You’d heard her set a million times, but the smile on Joel’s face made something heavy and light all at the same time catch in your chest. You couldn’t quite describe the feeling– pride? Contentment? Honest, pure happiness? Whatever it was, it felt good. You felt whole.

Joel couldn’t help but laugh at the 180 switch to the Jurassic Park Theme after giving her raucous applause for the first song. She giggled her way through it, too, and so did you. If she missed a beat or her finger slipped on a key, she just kept playing, nodding along with the fractured beat.

He was leaning back in his seat when she hit the first few notes of Ain’t Too Proud To Beg, but soon perked up.

“This is a good one, El. A good one, damn. The Stones covered this one, right?”

“Shut up, I’m concentrating,” she quipped.

I know you wanna leave me

But I refuse to let you go

If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy

I don’t mind, ‘cause you mean that much to me

You smiled, seizing your opportunity to grab him by the hand and pull him up and out of his seat. He humored you, taking you by the waist to sway around the living room with you.

Now I heard a cryin’ man is half a man

With no sense of pride

But if I have to cry to keep you

I don’t mind weepin’

If it’ll keep you by my side

Your laughter melted and swam in the air along with the music, nearly toppling each other over when he lifted your arm to spin you around. You both sang along with the tune of the music as Ellie played, and she glanced over her shoulder at the two of you with a smile spread wide across her face.

Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet darlin’

Please don’t leave me girl

Ain’t too proud to plead, baby, baby

Please don’t leave me girl

You pressed your back up against his frontside and he wrapped both arms around you from behind while he swayed along with you. You looked up over your shoulder, and he met you with a sweet kiss.

Both of you applauded wildly when Ellie finished, and she stood up to give a very haphazard bow, as you’d taught her.

“Sit back down, I wanna hear that one again. Man, you’re too good,” Joel said, coming over to her to ruffle the top of her head. “You killed it, darlin’. Keep goin’.”

Going for the encore, you and Joel rocked to the music in each other’s arms. You faced him this time, your arms resting on his shoulders while his found your waist again.

“You did good, baby. This is… I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“She’s here because of you. We both are, if you think about it.”

He nodded, his dark eyes glistening in the light again. “Yeah… don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

You kissed his lips, drawn out and lovingly, smiling against them. “You deserve the world, Joel Miller.”

He laughed quietly as he shook his head, fully pulling you into his arms. He dropped his head onto your shoulder and clung to the fabric of your shirt. “I love you. Just… so much.”

At last, you thought– maybe there was only one universe. Only one life. One chance to cry and sing, to love and be loved, to feel the ground beneath your feet and say I am here for a reason. I can be good. Get better. A hundred thousand days of sun, sleepless nights below heavenly stars, a few more cold winters to get through. I am here with him, in this universe, where we’ve both changed. Been able to know each other.

You had no clue if you’d get only one or if you’d get ten thousand more. If all of your lives would have Joel in them, finding him as your neighbor or your best friend or as a stranger across an ocean. You hoped you’d always find him, in one way or another.

But if all you got was this one– just this one hard, beautiful life, one chance to hear the music–

It would be enough for you.

112 notes · View notes

prolix-yuy · 9 months

Text

Chapter 1: I Once Had a Different Path

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader "Sugar"

Summary: It's only been a year.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: T, discussions of a bad relationship, drinking, little bit of angst, will be E in later chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: Welcome back to Westworld Whiskey! Almost the moment I finished Cognitive Dissonance the idea for this fic leapt into my head, and I've been trying to figure it all out since! The outpouring of love for this story makes me unreasonably giddy, and I am so excited to share what Jack and Sugar have been up to.

This story takes place exactly a year after the events of Cognitive Dissonance. Honestly, the Westworld timeline is confusing as heck, and so much happens that the public wouldn't know or see, so in terms of the show it's taking place after the fall of the Delos theme parks early in season 3. I'm taking some liberties with how Westworld and the world around it works, but we should all have a good time because of it. For those not as familiar with later seasons, the "real world" takes place in 2053 in a modern futuristic setting.

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

The glow of sun on your back, baking into your skin and spreading golden through your limbs, makes today feel like a really freaking good day. You’re wearing your favorite outfit, your shoes are comfy on your feet, and the air is just warm enough that you don’t have to wear a heavy jacket. When the door to the coffee shop schicks open, the uplifting scent of dark roast and cinnamon sugar practically dances on your tongue.

Strike that. A fantastic day.

Lacey is already at her favorite sitting spot, a low table with two high-backed armchairs jammed in a corner far from the automated baristas and hiss of milk froth. She catches sight and waves, bright peony pink in her chiffon dress. Curled in the chair she’s akin to neapolitan ice cream, and just as cool when she gestures to your waiting cup. Not before jumping up to give you a hug, though.

“I’m so glad to see you! It’s been too long!” she exclaims, a sentiment you’ve often heard from long-lost acquaintances but Lacey puts every ounce of honesty behind it. You give her another squeeze before settling in your proffered chair, cradling the thick retro ceramic mug in your hands.

“Well you’ve been pretty busy, Mrs. Hughes,” you sing-song, back, knocking your shoes off so you can settle more comfortably. “How was the honeymoon? The photos were gorgeous.”

You descend into vacation chatter, looking at photos on Lacey’s phone and laughing over whatever little anecdote she shares. The coffee buzzes pleasantly in your veins, bittersweet on your tongue. The sun streams in the café window and drapes warmth across your shoulders again.

It feels like the perfect day.

"How's married life treating you?"

Lacey smiles, bright enough to crinkle her whole face, and the radiance of it blooms in your chest.

"Not much different really, which is probably for the best," she says, taking another sip of her coffee. You're prepared to ask her something else, some follow-up question, when she reaches over and squeezes your hand.

"You look really good, too," she says, her eyes softening. "I know it was hard, with the wedding and everything going on with Eric at the same time, but...you look so much happier."

Your throat tightens, but it's a welcome feeling for once.

"I am. Much happier."

She’s right. It was hard. Once you were alone with your thoughts, your decision made, all of the terrifying reality had crashed down on you. You’d sobbed in your car, half curled in the driver's seat, trying to will yourself to go inside and face Eric.

It didn’t get any better once you finally did. The shouting, the accusations, the tears, and shockingly a chair kicked against the wall so hard it left an ugly dent. He never laid a hand on you, but the anger raked across your pounding heart, the cruelty sinking into your flesh like teeth. You grabbed just enough of your things to escape, his bellowing voice following you as your hands shook.

What the fuck do you mean you’re leaving?

What the hell did Lacey say to you?

Are you fucking serious?

After all I’ve done for us?

I can’t believe you’re being so selfish.

What has gotten into you?

The words echoed between your ears while you laid in your motel room bed, too raw and ashamed to call anyone for a place to stay. You woke stiff and silent and achingly alone, and regret welled in your throat.

Were you being stupid? Were you giving up the life you were supposed to have?

But then the day passed, hours spent driving aimlessly with the radio on low, long walks on bike paths lost in your thoughts. And while failure burned behind your eyes, the dreaded whispers of why didn’t you try harder creeping into your brain, the vice grip in your chest began to unwind. A lightness you hadn’t felt in years began lifting your shoulders, your head, even the corners of your mouth.

The neverending ache was finally gone.

You slept better that night, and in the morning you called Lacey. She drove out to pick you up, her tight embrace ushering in a new flood of tears.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” is all she says at first, rocking you back and forth like when you were both young and upset about a schoolyard fight. Then more pointed questions, her face hardening as you detail the slow descent into unhappiness you’d been hiding from her for years.

“He never did anything bad. I just…I couldn’t…” You struggled to voice all the fears that still lingered until she squeezed your hands.

“He didn’t have to treat you badly to not treat you the way you wanted. And if he can’t change, or doesn’t want to change, then this isn’t right for you.”

A fresh wave of tears followed the well-worn tracks down your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

She rubbed at your face with a crumpled tissue.

“Everything is going to be okay.’

It took a few days before the tornado of Lacey’s true feelings pulled to the forefront. Later she’d tell you she barely kept her cool while you cried in her living room, Alan instructing her to punch it out at the gym rather than overwhelm you. But barely settled into your temporary housing, she rang you in the middle of the day.

“We’re getting your stuff.”

“What…?”

“Eric is at work, Alan did a drive-by and checked. He’s waiting with the truck. I’m picking you up and we’re getting your things, then we’re going to leave your key on the table and never go back.”

She was chatting in low tones with Alan when you answered the door, face lined with concern. The stern expression melted into dismay when she took in your tired eyes and sloped shoulders.

“That motherfucker should be ashamed of himself for doing this to you,” she spits out, crushing you into a hug that almost suffocates you.

“Lace, I was the one…” you tried to say, but she cut you off with a sharp chop of her hand.

“I’ve got plenty to say about Eric and what I think about him when everything settles, but I’ll tell you this - I fucking hate him for making you feel like this. And we’re going to get your things and never see him again.”

So you did, emptying your drawers and shared closet - always less room allocated for you than him. Lacey shuffled through mail and tossed in anything that had your name on it in a bankers box. Later you’d have to disentangle your lives, but for now you could take solace in having your toiletries back, and placing your photos and family heirlooms safe in Alan’s truck. He helped move your grandmother’s hope chest into the truck bed, and silently drove as Lacey let you lean on her shoulder. Your childhood stuffed dog sat in your lap, and its gentle weight gave you a moment of relief.

Eric’s shouting through the phone later that night sliced across your chest, but only for a brief moment. You’d left the ring on the counter, and that thankfully shut him up.

The following months had been a blur of canceled engagements, severed services, broken agreements and bitter voicemails. Eric tried a few times to entice you back, forgiving you for having cold feet and wanting to get dinner, coffee, to talk. Your heart tugged at the softness in his voice.

We can still make this work.

But then the cold reality of the situation crept in. He wanted the picture-perfect life he thought he deserved. He wanted to have everything without working for it. And most of all, he wanted you to be grateful for him giving you everything he thought you deserved. Not what you wanted, but what he decided you should want.

That was never going to change.

Lacey and Alan helped where they could, but you didn’t want to taint the excitement of their upcoming nuptials. So you told them you were fine and signed a lease on a modest apartment while you picked out the barbs of Eric’s latest outburst. You picked out a dress for her wedding and were secretly grateful that she didn’t make you a bridesmaid. You didn’t think you’d be able to keep it together in front of all her family and friends. You drank too much champagne and considered a tumble with one of Alan’s single friends but instead threw up in your hotel room toilet and woke up fully clothed on top of the bed. The first thought that greeted you once you could see through your headache was, “Thank fuck I’m not getting married.”

The giggles were sharp against your sore stomach, but with that you finally felt something in you begin healing.

“...and I know I wasn’t around as much as I could have been, and it kills me that you were going through it alone, and on my bachelorette for crying out loud, how insensitive was that…”

Lacey’s diatribe brings you back to the café and your cooling coffee and Lacey’s earnest grip on your hand. You shush her with a few squeezes.

“You were a big part of why I finally got up the courage to leave. And I am so fucking glad I did,” you say, earning another smile that glitters with morning light.

“I think someone else also had some influence,” Lacey says, looking pointedly over her cup as she takes an innocent sip. Your brow furrows briefly before the implication of her tone slams into your chest.

Jack.

“That was a year ago…holy shit, today,” Lacey exclaims, twisting her wrist to verify on her smart watch.

“Wow, yeah,” you say weakly, swirling the dregs of coffee in your cup.

Yet again, Lacey isn’t wrong. Jack did open your eyes to a world that could offer the care and comfort you were yearning for. But you’d been forced to push memories of him to the back of your mind.

Weeks after the breakup, with Lacey lying on your brand new bed in your half-empty apartment, you told her about your weekend with the suave yet gentle cowboy. She interjected with excited “I knew it!” and “Holy shit yes!” exclamations as you recounted the cattle run, the innocent lie, the dinner, and the lust-filled night (heavily redacted, met with disappointment). Once the story was told you laid beside each other, silence stretching until she finally said, “I’m so happy Jack helped you realize you deserve more.”

So were you.

“Did you ever think about booking another weekend?” Lacey asks, placing her cup down so she can more fully watch you, playful smirk making you roll your eyes. “I mean, before all the stuff in the news about them.”

Guests injured in the park. A veil of silence and NDAs falling over Delos. An uncertain return.

You chew on your answer for a moment. It’s easy to chalk up not going back to the current state of the park, but in recent weeks you had been thinking more and more about Jack. Maybe it was some old movie you caught late at night, horses riding across gloriously wide plains. A cowboy hat or two you swore you saw in a crowd, only to be tricked by perspective and light. Strong, broad silhouettes that reminded you of large hands, a clever mouth, a warm embrace.

Tell her the truth.

“No,” you finally sigh, putting your cup down a little firmly.

You couldn’t.

“Why not?”

“It’s all fantasy, I’m not into that more than once.”

You couldn’t bear to see him again.

“Not even a little more fantasy with a certain cowboy?” Her eyes drop to your left hand, and you realize you’ve been slowly rotating the turquoise band she gave you on your ring finger. When you returned the engagement ring it became a comforting weight replacing what you’d given up. You fold them instead under Lacey’s watchful eye.

“It’s not real,” is the excuse you give.

He’s not real, and you can’t have him.

Lacey shrugs, looking at the time again and gathering up her coat.

“Real enough that you changed your whole life over it,” she observes, not unkindly. You stand up as she gathers her purse.

“It was a perfect weekend. Going back would have ruined it.”

Him not remembering you would have ruined it.

Lacey sighs but acquiesces, giving you a hug and confirming your next coffee date in a couple weeks. They’ve become a sweet schedule you look forward to more than you thought.

Once she breezes out the door, all summer blush and cosmopolitan chic, you join the line to get a coffee to go. The machine at work is dismal, and you’d much rather spend the four dollars. You enter your order on the cool blue holoscreen and step to the side to wait. The warmth of a good conversation bubbles in your veins, a beam of sunlight caressing your back. Even the brief memory of Jack you allow - his hands soft on your skin, the tender brush of his nose on your cheek, how safe you felt in his arms - fills your heart to bursting. A smile plumps your cheek. Today really is an exceptional day.

But oddly enough, your toes are wet.

Looking down, you can’t help but let out an exasperated, “Oh c’mon you idiot,” as you realize you didn’t put your shoes back on, and have now stepped in someone’s spilled beverage. So maybe not the perfect day, but you’re close enough to home to swing by and grab a new pair of socks. Shaking your head, you spin on your heel to retrieve your abandoned shoes.

You could have done it a breath sooner, or later, and never been the wiser. Or you could have kept your damn shoes on - do we live in a barn, your mother’s voice echoes in your ears - and avoided the issue in the first place. But today, on an exceptionally perfect day, you turn and take a step just as someone passes behind you, propelling your frame into their broader form. You almost bounce, but the stranger catches you by your shoulders, large firm palms wrapping around your biceps.

“Whoa there,” a deep voice says, laced with a southern drawl. It tickles something in your brain, neurons firing at memories close to the surface.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumble, stepping back to apologize properly to the man you almost bowled over. As your eyes begin their ascent the voice is clearer, sharp as a bullwhip crack.

“You okay Sugar?”

Your breath freezes in your throat, eyes snapping to the man’s face. He swims in your vision before the soft curl of his brown hair, the delicate trim of his mustache, the hawkish curve to his nose comes into focus. If that wasn’t enough for your short-circuiting brain to manage, his plush lips part in concern, deep chocolate eyes darting across your face.

Jack?

“I - oh,” he says, his grip tightening on your shoulders. You wrench back, stumbling a half step away, still locked on his face.

Jack Jack Jack Jack Jack

People are looking at you now, agape and struggling to pull in a full breath, your brain tumbling like Alice down the rabbit hole.

Can’t be.

Jack.

Not real.

Jack.

How?

Jack.

“I can explain…”

Then the whole world shifts, and you’re falling.

#jack whiskey daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #jack whisky daniels fanart #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman the golden circle fanfiction #westworld fanfiction #prolix fics

191 notes · View notes

heartandfangs · 2 years

Text

LEATHER & PLAID.

GENRE Roommates AU, Sub!Jake, Dom!Reader, Heavy Smut, One-shot

PAIRING f!Reader x Jake/Jaeyun

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY, BDSM, Cursing, Relationship insecurities, Light nipple play, Teasing, Edging, Bondage, Handjob, Pegging, Sex toys, Light degradation, Light choking, Crying, Aftercare, m!Receiving, Established relationship

WORD COUNT 3.8k

SUMMARY Jake– your ever mischievous, needy other half– quickly pulls you past the threshold you’ve yet to cross in your shared world of intimacy and hands over the tools you need to take him under. It's a world neither of you is entirely familiar with, but Jake is more than willing to step off the edge and fall into the abyss, so long as you're there to meet him at the end of it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE Well, it's about time I write a sub Jake fic. ✨ I hope you enjoy it, I know some of you out there will appreciate it!

I'm over the moon that it's the weekend AND THAT THE BOYS ARE FINALLY COMING BACK 🫠 The concepts look insane, and I'm still processing those crazy ass photos. They're all gorgeous and Jaeyun looks like an absolute doll 🙂🤚 The attack is RELENTLESS. I'M LITERALLY TEARING UP.

Also, I'm thinking of making this fic part of a sub series for the hyung line, so I’m gauging interest in it from you all since IOU is ongoing. I wanted to also say thank you for all the new followers and messages, I've been busy but I'm going through them today! As always, like/reblog this fic and leave me some feedback if you enjoyed it. 🖤⚰️

TAGLIST @skzenhalove, @axartia, @stbwe, @duolingofanaccount, @writingmochi, @thejjrl

Masterlist

Keep yourself hard for me by the time I come back– but don't you dare come.

The last text Jake received from you was from ten minutes ago, presumably before you started driving back home from work to where he desperately awaited you.

With one hand pumping his angry red cock, and the other hand shoved up his plaid shirt, toying with his nipples, Jake prayed you'd reach him in time.

It felt like for the past weeks– not that you noticed– he'd been suppressing the symptoms of his deep ache for you. It was the kind of ache that spread to every nerve of his body, consuming his thoughts and spurring him to take such daring risks.

So sue him for breaking down and sending you those clips of him during your work hours. They did their job, although he figured you'd be angry since they hampered your ability to do yours.

Jake would argue that it was for neglecting him the entire week, and maybe even the week before… but even if you hadn't, he probably would've pulled that same shit anyway.

Which one made you snap? The audio clip of him explicitly describing how he was beating his cock while smothering himself with the scent of your sheets? Or maybe the video of him slipping the diamond plug from his hole that he'd nestled into himself earlier, seeing him all pink and puckered, clenching around nothing?

Whichever it might've been, Jake was more than willing to risk it all, anticipating his tortuous release at your hands.

It had to be by you– only you.

The click of the apartment door being opened and the harsh clacking of your heels echoing off the walls had Jake thrumming with excitement. Your arrival was a record time, and he was beyond relieved you made it home safe, but he felt a bit guilty about it being at the expense of your safety. He would have to make up for the weight on his conscience, amongst other things.

Jake hiked his plaid shirt over the planes of his flushed chest and pushed back his dark bangs from his eyes, hoping to look as enticing as possible when you walked through that bedroom door.

Just as the door swung open, a shaky moan slipped from his mouth while he canted his hips up in the air. He was teasing his thumb over his slit, back and forth in the most delicious manner, the damp skin of his stomach illuminated by the warm lighting of your bedside lamp.

Somehow, seeing you dressed in your elegant noir suit accented with gold plated jewelry– eyes sharp with liner, glaring down at him– intimidated him in ways he hadn't expected. Everything about your attire displayed power; one day, he'd have to pay you a surprise visit at work that included taking you out to lunch and convincing you to take an extended break time with him in that fancy company lounge.

Today, he'd make you come to him.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Not only did you make me cut my work day short, but you chose my room to make a mess in?"

"I missed you," Jake dragged his veined hand up the planes of his abs then over his nipples, the other still wrapped around his length," Please, I'm so hard– couldn't wait 'till tonight."

With a shake of your head, you scrutinized him.

"I see that patience is still something we need to work on with you. You know better."

"Everyone cuts their Friday short anyways; I'll definitely make it worth your while. My cock's drooling so much for you..."

"Quit touching yourself," you warned, "Take your clothes off, then kneel on the bed."

Jake stared at you.

So you still wanted him?

"Don't make me wait."

Delighted, Jake shot up from the bed and pulled his plaid long sleeve off, discarding it onto a nearby chair; his jeans followed.

Nothing about you gave yourself away while watching him with such a stoic expression. You merely multiplied his sense of vulnerability tenfold, heart beating out of his chest as he obediently kneeled on your plush bed covers.

You crossed your arms and let him shift in discomfort under your gaze, his lean physique and arousal entirely on display for you.

"Show me what you were playing with in that video you sent me, Jake."

Blushing deeply, Jake leaned back onto his palms and spread his legs to reveal the diamond-encrusted toy plugged between his cheeks.

Intrigued, you kneeled onto the bed and reached out to trace the edges of the glistening diamond laid into black silicone.

"Huh, I didn't know you liked these sort of toys."

"It came in a set," He glanced up at you hopefully, teeth tugging on his bottom lip while your eyes widened, "And this plug vibrates if you hold down the diamond, but I haven't tried it yet because I wanted to wait to try it with you."

It irritated you to imagine Jake stuffing himself with his fingers alone each night for who knows how long just so the toy could fit properly. You gripped the edge of the toy and tugged on it slightly, curious as to how big it was.

Jake moaned softly, his cock twitching against his abdomen as his body automatically fought to keep it inside of him.

"Sorry," He tried to calm himself with several deep breaths until the plug finally popped out.

It was covered in his wetness and was in the form of a slim silicone tip; it rounded out a bit wider only to taper at the base. Its girth and length weren't as large as Jake's, but you were impressed he managed to use it on his own.

You slid it back inside of him so begrudgingly slow that Jake had to bite down a whimper. It was a little mesmerizing seeing how his hole stretched and accommodated the size.

So sexy.

You wanted to eat him up right then and there.

Licking your lips, you asked, "What else have you been hiding from me?"

Jake inclined his chin towards your feet where an inconspicuous black gift bag you failed to notice before sat. Raising a brow at him, you picked it up and set it on the bed, reaching inside to inspect the contents.

The first object you pulled out was a set of leather wrist cuffs and straps to be tethered to a bed frame; the second was thigh slings, padded on the inside and attached to a neck cushion along with straps to bind its wearer without the use of furniture.

A slight smirk graced your face at the choice, but your expression morphed into one of complete shock when you took out a lace strap-on.

It had an attractive onyx-colored dildo attached to it, not entirely phallic but rather a more streamlined sophisticated shape; it was curved and relatively slender– even pretty. Considering it would be Jake's first time, it might've been out of character for him to have gone all out on a nine-inch monster dildo instead.

So long as it was something he was comfortable with. Regardless, he sure didn't skimp on the quality of these purchases. You slid your grip along the glossy, dark surface, finding it to your taste.

"Just be honest with me if you don't want to try it," Jake blurted out, shaky eyes roving over your face, unable to endure your silence.

With one hand, you unbuttoned your blazer and shrugged it off, leaving you in a black silk camisole and impeccably pressed slacks.

"As if I'll let you off the hook for interrupting my work schedule." You took up the leather restraints and leaned over Jake, who looked both terrified and in awe– and yet, he relinquished all control to you.

Figuring out which limbs were supposed to go where came easy to you, and soon enough, you had Jake bound underneath you on his back, legs folded at the knees with the restraints supporting his bare thighs. The slings were connected to the padded cushion tucked behind his neck, and his wrists were cuffed over his head, anchored to the bed with just enough slack.

Although you didn't have first-hand experience with these toys, you had researched them in the past out of curiosity, which definitely helped. However, you were still wrapping your head around that Jake approached you about this first and not the other way around.

Checking to make sure his restraints weren't overly tight, you slipped two fingers beneath the ones at his wrist.

"Too tight, baby?"

"No, I love it," He admitted breathlessly.

Jake never looked more delectable to you at that moment.

"Listen closely, I have some rules to lay down," Jake nodded eagerly for you to continue, "I'm not allowing you to come until I say so. I'm going to tease you, edge you– and maybe fuck you if you're good. But you need to earn it, and I'm the only one who determines whether or not you have."

You tipped Jake's chin up towards you, "Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, sounding almost in a trance.

"Good," You nodded and sat back to admire your handiwork and his gorgeous body.

During the whole process, Jake had only grown more aroused at your slight rough handling, panting and twitching non-stop at your touches. Little did you realize that he was taking you in with complete adoration the entire time.

Jake was spread so prettily for you; his pre-cum dribbled from his tip down his swollen balls, spilling over the diamond plug onto your sheets. The deep flush in his cheeks spread across his skin in an all-consuming heat. He was even perspiring beneath his bangs, and you hadn't even started.

"I think you need a safeword, Jaeyun."

"Plaid," he replied immediately, as though he were just waiting for you to ask.

Of course.

You regarded Jake fondly while running the tips of your nails up the underside of his cock, making him mewl.

"Let's play."

Undoing your lover was always a pleasure to undertake.

"Oh Jaeyun," you drawled, sweetly twisting the soaked tip of his cock and then letting go just in time for his hips to desperately chase your touch– just to receive no reprieve. It was a sick cycle he'd been enduring for the past half hour. "I didn't think you could get any wetter."

You watched Jake's brows furrow, how he dropped his head back against your mattress in frustration, but his moans were all too telling of the immense pleasure he was experiencing.

"Please, ___, keep rubbing my cock," Jake whined.

You were still dressed from head to toe, and he should've felt mortified at being utterly nude in such a compromising situation, but he wasn't. He loved every bit of your attention and lived for it— he wasn't sure how he survived on days without you nearby.

But at this very moment, having you next to him didn't feel like enough. He wanted to be intoxicated by you and completely filled to the brim, unsure of where your body started and where his ended, breathing you in, feeling you, tasting you.

Did you feel the same at all?

Now, as you smugly traced the veins along his pulsing cock when all he wanted was for you to fist him until he was spent in every sense of the word.

"Think you've earned it already?"

"Yes— please!"

Admittedly, Jake had been a trooper up 'till now, but it was clear his endurance was dwindling, so you decided to turn things up a notch. Your thumb found the diamond button of the plug between his legs, and you held it down until it came alive inside him with a deep buzz.

"Fuuuck! Oh my god," Jake slurred, eyes fluttering.

You scratched down the dips of his pelvis teasingly, only to take his balls into your hand and knead them thoroughly, "That feels good, huh, baby boy?"

"Yes, yes— fuck, it feels like my insides are melting! Wait—"

You swiftly pulled the plug out of him, and he jerked harshly against his restraints with a groan, the luxurious straps digging into his beautiful tan skin.

"I want to play with you next time, Jaeyun. Don't hide these things from me anymore. Don't be shy to tell me what you want when you want it, when it's the right time, of course. Timing is everything, baby–", You gave a sharp slap to his balls, causing him to yelp, "– As I'm sure you're coming to understand."

"Yes, I do," He choked out as you swiped his damp hair from his forehead.

"We'll see about that."

Jake watched you slide your middle and ring finger past your lips to soak them with saliva, then press them past his tight ring of muscle. His toes curled at the welcome intrusion of your fingers, pleas devolving into lovely, incoherent noises. He was wonderfully tight, but you imagined he'd be even tighter if he hadn't prepared himself with that plug.

"Good, Jaeyun. Let me in," You urged when he tensed while you added a third finger to rub against his warm, plush insides. Leaning over his muscular torso, you caught his nipple between your teeth and gave it a light tug.

Jake bucked his hips against your stomach in a panic, his insides clenching around your fingers, wrists straining against the handcuffs. "Ahhh, fuck, I can't. I can't—"

"Shhh," You hushed, swiping your tongue over his abused nipple, the pads of your fingers searching against his walls for that sweet spot, "You can do it, baby; control yourself."

How the hell was Jake supposed to hold on when you were knuckle deep inside of him, torturing his nipples?

Every little thing you bestowed on him made him feel like he was in a dream, a pure fantasy that only someone of his depraved nature could've thought up. But he fought to meter his reactions the best he could because here you were, playing this game, indulging the darkest parts of himself.

Jake was tested when you curled your fingers against his sensitive prostate, and every nerve in his body lit up, making him feel like he was about to lose it all.

That was until you mercilessly gripped the base of his dick and kept him from coming— to his utter dismay.

He was left with no choice but to writhe beneath you, long-awaited pleasure slipping from his grasp like sand when you removed your fingers from his body and stepped away.

"No, no, no! Don't stop— ___, fuck me," he begged.

The emptiness you left Jake with was distressing; at this point, he wanted some part of you moving inside him, your tongue, your fingers– Anything, anything, anything.

"Learn to display some patience, or I just might leave you there tied up for the rest of the night."

Jake made pathetic noises of opposition in response.

Feeling your arousal soak through your trousers, you stripped out of your clothes and heels before stepping into the lace harness. Your pussy was sensitive and swollen to the touch; the mere brush of the lace and ribbon against your throbbing mound made you want to rut your hips against Jake's until you came.

The strap-on was definitely a foreign feeling you'd have to adjust to, but just the fact that Jake wanted you like this gave you enough confidence to face him. You fixed it around your hips and thighs efficiently, tying it in a secure bow below your waist. After, you snatched a bottle of water-based lube from your bedside drawer, spreading copious amounts of liquid along your length.

You caught Jake rolling his hips out of the corner of your eye, presumably trying to get some relief just by bouncing his cock against his abdomen.

"If you could see how silly you look right now, you'd be taking your sweet time to fuck yourself too. Behave, or else."

Even though Jake shied from you in shame, his pink cock twitched at your reprimand. He settled down momentarily, his chest heaving and glistening with sweat.

"... I'll literally do anything for you to fuck me right now, ___. Please, fill me up, put me out of my misery."

"Do as I say, and you'll get what you want."

"I swear I will—"

Upon taking hold of his jaw, you gently captured his plump lips– a slow tug here, a lick there– slipping your tongue against his taste buds. Jake moaned sweetly against your soft lips, returning your possessive kiss, jerking as he felt you press your slick cock between his ass.

Once you lined yourself up with his entrance, you eased in at an angle that slowly drew the air from Jake's lungs. With your hips flush against him, you filled him perfectly— before pistoning into him at a merciless pace.

Jake's moans pitched with each thrust, his dark eyes dilated and hazy due to the rough sensation of you inside him. His fingers dug into his palms, the handcuffs and thigh restraints keeping him in place as you had your way with him.

If he weren't under already, he definitely was now.

"Does it feel good, baby? Can you feel how deep I am inside you?" You punctuated with a sharp thrust to his prostate. Unable to form words, Jake's tongue merely lolled past his lips.

You reached deeper than your fingers had and felt much sweeter than any vibrations.

Jake began to arch his back, chest pressing up into the air. You gripped more of the flesh beneath his thighs, moaning at the way you could feel his insides tug on the dildo when you pulled out, just to slam right back in.

Although it was tricky maneuvering the strap-on since it wasn't part of your actual body, there was something in the switch of dynamics that aroused you mentally. Whatever it was, Jake clearly loved it as well, unable to get enough of it— or rather you.

"Your slutty little ploy worked, Jaeyun. I'm fucking the living daylights out of you, and your cock is a mess because of it."

Jake couldn't hide from the truth; the man was at your mercy in every sense. All he was meant for at that moment was to take everything you'd give him, using all of his senses and faculties— from salivating at how your tits bounced with every sharp slam of your hips to how your soft, elegant fingers slid through his own, pressing him deep into the cushions.

The scent of his favorite perfume of yours made him go insane while your intense gaze pinned him in place, reminding him that he was yours in more ways than one.

It was just you and him.

"Ah!"

Jake shuddered violently when you slammed all the way in and stayed still for a second before sweetly rolling your hips in a deep, circular rhythm.

Fuck.

Making his eyes roll back into his head, you hit the same spot that set his whole body alight earlier, the tip of your length rubbing on it repeatedly. Jake could hardly tell what was happening when heat rushed to his face, heart racing like crazy. He clenched continuously around your cock, not wanting to let you go.

"Haah—" Jake began to shake his head. "C-can't– I can't!"

"On the count of five," Your tone left no room for disagreement, your thrusts turning quick and shallow, "Five."

Oh my god.

Each second you counted out loud was excruciating.

"Four."

Jake struggled to keep his orgasm at bay, willing every nerve and muscle in his body to hold back.

"Three."

His lips parted wide in pleasure while strands of pre-cum dribbled from his length onto his stomach.

"Two."

His vision of you above him suddenly became clear; you appeared wholly absorbed in watching his every move with deadly intent. Blood surged to his cock– You always looked so hot when focused.

So fucking beautiful.

He held his breath, feeling like he was about to explode when you sneaked your hand across his skin to squeeze around his throat slowly.

"One– come."

Then his vision blurred completely, everything going completely dark. His insides pulsed– once, twice– his balls tightening so tight... and then he finally released it all with a slew of broken sobs. Several ropes of cum shot from his veiny cock before it began to ooze thickly down your blurring hand, seemingly never-ending.

He wailed your name, voice gravelly and desperate. You were stunned at the tears that spilled from the corners of his shut eyes. Automatically, your thumb swiped them away.

"That's it, Jaeyun. I'm right here; I've got you."

How his hole spasmed and his nipples drew to a peak enraptured you. Jake was gone and for longer than he usually was when orgasming. One could only wonder if it was all due to the combination of being penetrated and physically subdued by you.

Aftershocks wracked his body for several minutes, and you comforted him through it all.

"My messy baby boy," Jake shook as your fingers spread his creamy release across his abdomen and sighed warmly when you planted kisses on his damp cheek. "You did so well for me; you held out till the end, and I loved how you were so obedient. Such a good boy for me."

You quickly released him from his restraints, gently resting his arms and legs onto the bed, caressing his indented skin. Jake fussed when you left him to retrieve wet washcloths from the restroom, calling you back to him.

"I'm here," you returned and reassured him while cleansing his limp body with the warm cloth. When you finished, you stepped out of the harness and wiped yourself down with a clean cloth before retrieving an ice-cold water bottle from your mini-fridge.

"How do you feel? Drink," You urged, slowly sitting him up and tipping the water bottle towards his lips. He took several sips, his half-lidded eyes trained on you all the while.

Somehow, Jake looked simultaneously drained yet alive, a gleam reappearing in his eyes if that were possible.

"That was insane. I loved it so much. Thank you, baby," Jake tossed the bottle somewhere behind him on the sheets and pulled you against him by your waist. He was still blown out of his mind that you did this all for him, overwhelmed by your devotion. "You fucked me so good," he whispered hotly into your neck.

You tipped your head back, baring your neck to give Jake more access. His lips moved fervently across your skin, tongue lapping at every spot he marked with a kiss. He captured your lips once more, eagerly conveying his immense gratitude for you.

"I hope you learned your lesson—" A moan spilled from your throat when his hand traveled down between your dripping thighs.

"I did," The corners of Jake's mouth turned upwards, his thick fingers delving through your wetness, "You think I can earn some extra credit?"

913 notes · View notes

stillinthatweirdfaze · 5 months

Text

I usually don’t make posts like this bc sharing hobbies and interests on the internet makes me very very anxious for whatever reason but I really really wanna share this issue of the Dragon magazine I found at the thrift store yesterday!!!!!!!!

25th anniversary edition of the official D&D magazine !!!!! It is issue 284 and it came out in June 2001. Unfortunately it did not come with the advertised bonus CD rom when I bought it though :[

I’m gonna use this post to show off some of the stuff that’s in it that I really liked or found interestingggg :]

First off we have a full spread add for baulders gate 2, which is kinda funny considering the third one didn’t come out that long ago. I want to eat this ye oldie early 2000ds generic fantasy font I bet it tastes like burnt shortbread.

A little step by step on how the artist made the cover which I find like. Infinitely charming. Especially since this cover itself is so gorgeous. I hope Todd Lockwood is doing good today.

A full page add for an online anime fantasy rpg called Nexus the kingdom of the winds. OUGGGGEEEEE this art style,,,,,,, it takes me back to places it takes me back to like that one vampire anime and clanad and YouTube anime top tens. Fuck graphic design we should start putting sparkles and radial gradients on everything again.

an add for a series of sound effect cds for your games which I want so so bad I need to know what’s on these.

Two little sections where it seems people can submit photos and stories about themselves or their game members to be published. The Dm of the month one is genuinely heartwarming and cute. The thought of Steve seeing that he won made me smile. Also “Nubile dwarf chicks” and “chaotic secretive” is a great example of how early 2000nds out of pocket this issue can be sometimes. You can fucking smell the energy off the second image.

An extremely funny review of a previous dragon issue.

an add for Gen con 2001 and a schedule of upcoming conventions. If anyone went to these I would genuinely love to hear about them I love convention history a whole lot especially from around this time

A page in, apparently a series, about what ttrpg players value in a game written by Gary Gygax!!! If anyone has any previous or the final issues of this study please do share I really really wanna see them. Also the three genders: males, females, and newbies

Two stat blocks for some half dragon characters

A Draconic to English translation table that I wish I had as a preteen because I would have eaten it the fuck up. Also I cut it off but the last sentence on the bottom right is “please don’t disembowel the dwarf” which apparently is “martiver thric gixustratt tundar”

Add for a brand of miniatures and in what stores to find them. I wonder how many of these places are still open

An add for WOTZ game stores with the tagline “it’s where you play the game” and advertising “Hella Bandwith” and “scantily clad BABES.” I find it unreasonably funny that they are three pictures of the same exact woman, scantily clad babe, one (1), one singular babe.

Spell and magical item themed crossword

A full on campaign setting of the real city of London. I didn’t take pictures of all of it but it has a history section, locations, npcs, adventure hooks, and what even looks like a little blank dungeon layout of a mansion . I feel like putting real places as campaign settings has always been like, a thing, but I don’t see it too often. Its charming I like it.

A stat block and gorgeous illustration for a lesser dragon companion. The gradient circle in the back is my favorite argggg I wanna draw like this sometimes

A section on how to assemble your own monster models. Admittedly I know close to nothing about model making so this was an extremely fun read for me

A bunch of PC portraits of half dragons that are so so cool. You see a lot of stuff about people getting really specific designs about different hybrids like oh a dwarf tyfling looks different than an elf tyfling n that sort of stuff in the modern day but you don’t really see it canonized at all. So it’s really interesting to see that concept in an officially published D&D thing, even if it’s just a magazine. I really like the dwarf one a lot.

Possibly my favorite thing ever is this cartoon that reads like a fucking wizard tumblr shitpost. Like down to a fucking tea this is some shit the evil wizard blog would say and it makes me so so so happyyyyyyyyy. It’s the cadence that amazes me they got the tumblr wizard cadence exactly right. Im posting this shit on its own without shame bc I need people to see it. Pour me something whimsical and arcane bar wench.

A absolutely chefs kiss add for a ????? Pc????? Pc game????? Pc accessory??? I honestly can’t tell anyway enjoy your free ps2 polygonal hotted woman ass

And finally the thing that made me fuckin gasp out loud when I saw it, an add for the original year of our lord 2001 shitty D&D movie with special features and online sweepstakes to win a trip to Prague. Holy shit. God I love this game.

anyway that’s it, I plan to frame this thing and put it up somewhere. Ty for reading all my nerd shit. :,]

#D&D #dungeons and dragons #Dragons magazine #vintage fantasy #”vintage?” Not really but idk what else to put #2000s #early 2000s #Old d&d #D&D 3E #fantasy illustration #wotc #Uhhhhhhhh I think that’s it?#Motg #Baulders gate #baulders gate 2 #Nexus: the kingdom of the winds

17 notes · View notes

amberjazmyn · 6 months

Text

dr spencer reid one-shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - instagram part two

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - none

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - a series of instagram posts from usersdrsreid and ynreid.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i had so much fun writing the first part that i knew i had to do it again and just because i really love dr spencer reid

part one masterlist

- - -

liked by drsreid, derekmorgan, emilyprentiss, penelopegarcia, jenniferj and 456,789,50 others

ynreid what you don't see in the first photo is me laughing at spencer crying over the realisation that we now share the same last names

View all 839,45,10 comments

drsreidi knew i was gonna cry all day anyway love, so it's okay to laugh

derekmorgan i think we were all crying at one stage

drsreid derekmorgan apart from y.n lol, she didn't cry once derek and big props to her because i did at one stage think we had gotten her but, we never did

emilyprentiss this day was literally the best wedding i've ever attended omg

penelopegarcia hands down my favourite wedding in the world. congratulations you silly poms

aaronhotchner and i thought i had cried my tear ducts dry but nope

ashleyseaver omg you guys are so fucking cute!

ellegreenway lol, jj in the right-hand corner just screaming in joy

liked by ynreid, emilyprentiss and 783,149,67 others

drsreid the reason why i cried the entire day wasn't that i was "losing my freedom as a single man" or anything else like those snarky comments i see. i cried the whole day because i had waited so long for today to arrive that when it did, i couldn't grasp the fact that i was finally marrying the girl of my dreams.

i absolutely adore you mrs reid, more than words in any of the english or any other language dictionaries can explain. the reason why i cried all day was that i hadn't ever woken up as happy as i did this morning with the knowledge that i was going to be marrying my best friend. i cried all day because i got to fulfil the dream that your dad dreamt and made for you before he had the opportunity to see his gorgeous little girl get married to the love of her life. i cried all day because i didn't get to see my wife be walked down the aisle by her dad. i cried all day because we got to see aaronhotchner walk her down the aisle. i cried all day because finally got to vow my everlasting love to my soulmate. i cried all day because i finally got to fulfil my father-in-law's wish of marrying his little girl, just like he wanted me to do, that he had written down on his bucket list of "last things to do before i die". i love you so much mrs reid and i promise to love you every single day until i can no longer do it on earth.

View all 928,875,67 comments

ynreid it was a perfect day spence, even though daddy never got to be here physically <3

emilyprentiss best wedding ever!

aaronhotchner i'm forever grateful that i was able to hand y.n over to you, spencer. it was an honour and i'm so glad i got to honour her father and your father-in-law

penelopegarcia omg, i cried so hard when i realised that hotch was walking y.n down the aisle, my lord.

jenniferj bro, didn't think i'd tear up seeing hotch walk y.n down the aisle but, it did and then i couldn't stop crying.

davidrossi so glad i had the pleasure of officiating the ceremony. it was beautiful you two.

ellegreenway i'm so glad we got to be a part of it, spence.

ashleyseaver i'm still so frustrated that i ugly cried any time that the camera was in my direct eyeshot

ynreid ashleyseaver you still looked fucking gorgeous dear daughter! thank you for being one of my bridesmaids <3

liked by drsreid, aaronhotchner,derekmorgan and 456,781,90 others

ynreid did someone order a baby reid?

View all 543,836,77 comments

drsreid yeah, i think i ordered it a few months ago. it still hasn't arrived yet

ynreid drsreid how rude, cannot believe it's taking this long!

aaronhotchner you guys just got married and already you're popping out children!

derekmorgan i think i just choked on my saliva holy crap what?!

penelopegarcia i've only just emotionally recovered from the wedding and now you're telling me you guys are pregnant?!

jenniferj and now i'm sobbing

liked by ynreid, emilyprentiss, penelopegarcia and 932,581,50 others

drsreid say hello to sage eleanor emily reid everybody.

View all 37,98,08 comments

ynreid my two precious angels <3

emilyprentiss omg sage eleanor emily reid! only the cutest name ever!

penelopegarcia cutest goddaughter ever!

derekmorgan ok but like, who named sage?

drsreid derekmorgan y.n did actually, derek. sage was a traditional name in your family as was eleanor and then we wanted to honour one of you guys and we decided emily would be the perfect name. i cried instantly when she suggested we name our daughter after her grandpa's sister.

jenniferj best girl dad ever!

liked by drsreid, aaronhotchner, davidrossi and 894,142,99 others

ynreid spence, today is all about you and the amazing father you are to our little girl, sage eleanor emily. you love our daughter in ways that i could have only seen in dreams. you always make sure you give her all the attention in the world. you are sage's entire world and she is yours and it's plainly obvious. i am so grateful we get to parent our little pretty girl genius. i love you so much reid sr.

View all 874,619,12 comments

drsreid can you please stop making me cry bubs? i've been crying all day because of how loving you have been! i love you mrs reid

ynreid drsreid i love you more mr reid

aaronhotchner happy fathers day spencer <3

davidrossi happy father's day reid. sage is a beautiful girl, just like her beautiful parents

derekmorgan happy father's day pretty boy

ashleyseaver happy father's day, spencer! sagey has gotten so big!

liked by ynreid, emilyprentiss, aaronhotchner, derekmorgan, penelopegarcia and 876,912,34 others

drsreid happy mothers day mrs reid. you are the best mother to sage and we are so grateful to have you in our lives. it was almost magical to see the way your body changed during your pregnancy with our daughter. seeing you nurture her before and after she was born whilst still being a kick arse with the fbi always brings tears to my eyes and motivates me to be a better agent because you were born to be a natural mother and fbi agent and sage is the luckiest little girl in the world, just like i'm the luckiest husband in the world. sage eleanor emily and i love you every single day and every day is mother's day in this household!

View all 492,697,12 comments

ynreid i can see why you got me to cry today without even trying. it was payback for making you cry during our wedding, our entire pregnancy and when i named sage. touché mr reid, touché

drsreid ynreid i sincerely promise it was not as payback because it made me cry seeing you cry. it was not payback at all

emilyprentiss happy mother's day y.n. can't wait to see the reid fam tonight <3

ynreid emilyprentiss thank you em! spence and i can't either. sage is also very excited to see her godmother, it's the cutest thing <3

aaronhotchner happy mother's day my darling y.n <3

derekmorgan happy mother's day pretty girl <3

- - -

imagining spencer as a girl dad is everything in my dreams and therefore imagining mgg as well being a girl dad is everything of my dreams. i'd love either of them to become girl dads!

ok ily bye xx

wc; 1651

#criminal minds #fluff #fake instagram one shot #spencer reid as a girl dad #dr spencer reid x reader #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi #emily pretntiss #ashley seaver #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner

44 notes · View notes

discluded · 7 months

Note

I have come to realize I never understood the concept of a guy being dreamy until I got to know of Mile Phakphum. Man literally stepped out as an early 00's romcon lead but the worst part is he's not just a figment of someone's imagination a Gary Stu that is suppose to represent an ideal he is REAL and more DORKY and charming that you can imagine. What the actual F*ck.

nonny, you don't know the half of it...

every other day I describe him as a kdrama hero whose plotline would be so patently absurd I would be scoffing if someone wrote that script, yet ... it's not?! Like who the hell is an actual chaebol baby CEO model A-list actor musician who also looks like he'd be CAST to play a chaebol baby CEO model A-list actor musician too??? AND HAS A SOULMATE WHO IS ALSO MODEL A-LIST ACTOR FASHION DESIGNER WITH A DARK PAST CONNECTED TO HIM???

Like it's one thing to have sexy CEO vibes, but have you seen the profile pictures of actual fortune 500 CEOs? Let me tell you, Mile more looks like an actor cast to play a CEO and than a real CEO except apparently he's both now?! (Kinn canon Theerapankyul Industries CEO send tweet).

on the days I don't describe him as a kdrama character, i lie in the dark and cry as i think about how he's probably not real because he's a perfect boyfriend made up by Taylor Swift to be the main character in one of her songs. Is Wildest Dreams about Mile Phakphum? Did he only come into existence because she wrote a song?

I understand all those people who finally see them and are emotionally distressed they exist because I'm still not convinced Mile's real, and when I find out he is I'm going to...need to recalibrate reality. His existence makes me feel mentally ill in the way that I feel like we mass hallucinated his existence because there's no fucking way he can be real except a series of real-time photos and video and IG and FB posts prove he is.

did he not get the memo most chaebol babies and ceos are decidedly average looking? and the nerve of him to have a gorgeous soulmate too?? how dare he.

I need to go lie down.

#mile phakphum #mile phakphum's kdrama life

22 notes · View notes

vs120shound · 6 months

Text

Kasondra (correctly spelled finally) would reach for Benson & Hedges 100s as her "go-to" brand of cigarettes, but how breathtakingly gorgeous she appears here with Virginia Slims 120s Luxury Lights!

VIDEO OF THE WEEK 🚬 🚬 (SF HALL OF FAME) 🚬 NUMBER 9 IN THE SERIES!

For the Week of 102323-102923 ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ + | Five + "Stars"

From vs120shound staff | ★★★★★ (6 total: L)

Dual-Media 5-Post, 29-Pack Megapost!

Hard to Quantify Casondra's Beauty!

She is equal parts cuteness and prettiness. Throw in super sultriness and the ability to seduce on a moment's notice and with ease, and to bring down the unsuspecting fellow so mercilessly and thoroughly. Add her fine smoking style with Benson & Hedges, Marlboro 100s, Marlboro Lights and ML 100s as well as Virginia Slims 120s Luxury Lights. Do not discount her edgy personality -- alluring sweetness when the mood strikes and when it would serve her -- that conjures bitchiness, old-fashioned sarcasm and straight out dissing. Casondra, who was named Kasondra by her parent(s), is as complete of a package for a prototypical SF model/actress as can ever can ever have been desired. She is the total package. Casondra has few who can rival her at anything hoped for from a BHYSW (Beautiful Hot, Young Smoking Woman)!

. . . well, the mother of a young child nearly 15-20 years ago, Casondra was always in full control on the sets for Specialized Videos (Michigan, U.S.A.) and with taking direction from web-master/web producer Scott. Very little uncertainty floating around Casondra back in the day. Scrambling around was probably never a big part of her daily routines. Hoping she's still as confident and brimming with self-esteem now in 2023 as she exhibited in her SF modeling (acting) career. Got to figure she is just as attractive but in a different, more-glowing and mature way. She's closing in on 40 y.o. if not already past that threshold. She's at a different stage in her life. But we can wager that she is still smoking and most likely still with a heavy habit and gaining just as much pleasure from cigarettes as she showed during 2003-2010, which covered her prime time being an SF model. Casondra has moved on but she left a trail of her super-sexy smoking and we are forever grateful for her contributions. That could be why she slotted in at No. 6 in January 2023 for the vs120shound-release of the "unofficial" official Top-25 all-time favorite SF models list.

Previous and Most Definitive Post of Casondra within Our Network!

From Photo of The Day on lostlighter 23 on November 9, 2023 . . .

Casondra on YouTube!

From YT's webpage "Fdtccnnbrow" in 2022 in a video titled Specialized Videos Casondra Solo . . .

youtube

From YT's webpage "SmokingWorld117" in 2016 . . .

youtube

From YT's webpage "Bobby A Smoking Videos" with JodiMarie in 2021 (J-M with Newport 100s and Casondra with Marlboro 100s) . . .

youtube

From YT's webpage "Fdtccnnbrow" in May 2023 with an AI "upscaling" . . .

youtube

From YT's webpage "Bobby A Smoking Videos" in October 2023 . . .

youtube

#SF #Hot women who love smoking cigarettes #Smoking cigarettes #Smoking #The Video of The Week (Honorable Mention)!#The Video of The Week (HoF) . . . Hall of Fame!#Casondra of Specialized Videos (Michigan - U.S.A.)!#No. 6 on The List for the Top-25 all-time favorite SF models!

17 notes · View notes

gluteus-canis-familiaris · 6 months

Text

art post . 21

the very first BoB fanart I made a long time ago was of Winnix, but I only got as far as sketching their head shapes then chickened out completely from the sheer emotions lololol

but I have now redeemed myself!!! And I made it during October so I guess (???) it counts towards Inktober/Wartober though I've never had the discipline to participate properly in either of those ever

WHOLLY inspired by the unfairly gorgeous photo of the real Dick Winters that he decided to take once he finally got home to Lancaster, the King Of Rosy Cheeks: Mr. Norman Rockwell, and the What we have heard together series by @jouissants on Ao3 (hope it's ok to tag here! if not, will remedy immediately! and instead of leaving a comment there like a normal person I just have to say that those fics have become my absolute Gold Standard for Winnix, they ruined me, they were everything I didn't know I needed in life, and this art doesn't even do justice to how incredible that entire series is ughhh it left me a blubbering mess and I've just been trying to drag anyone who will listen to read it and join my despair ever since)

my very 2nd attempt at gouache :) enjoyed every second of it but as expected, I'm still happiest with the original sketches and am now regrettably too lazy to add in the details of their patches/pins/ribbons, but since I pictured this as their immediate post-war photos, they really, really deserve to be showing off all their achievements at this point huhuhu

I had the intention of making their uniforms dark green as they are in Ep 10. There was INTENTION at some point. That's all I can say about that...

#my art #band of brothers #dick winters #lewis nixon #WINNIX #how else do I tag this without scaring people #my life my death my silly rabbit #Totally Normal About Them #might as well tag Norman Rockwell #what an absolute goat dat guy #THIS IS MY TRIBUTE TO RON LIVINGSTON'S ROSY CHEEKS #I HATE THAT MAN HE DIDN'T HAVE TO DO THAT FOR THE SERIES #I DONT CARE IF IT WAS THE MAKEUP DEPARTMENTS DECISION

15 notes · View notes

floralcyanide · 1 year

Text

The Extra || Austin Butler x OC

Chapter Fifteen (final chapter)

Pairing: Austin Butler x OC

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 1390

>> it's been a while since I updated, I know!! I was possessed by the writing demon and managed to finish this chapter finally!! this isn't the last update though. there will be an epilogue. hopefully that'll be written soon (: I'm so grateful for everyone who has read The Extra and has stuck around to see it completed. thank you all so much for your support! I hope you enjoy this chapter even though I wrote it in like, an hour. (also sorry for weird formatting, I’m posting it from mobile lol)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Add yourself to the taglist HERE

July 2022

Today is the day Elvis is premiering at the Cannes Film Festival, and I'm terrified to put it in simple terms. Austin and I are currently in the car on the way there, and I'm trying my best not to chip my nail polish on the rings my stylist slipped on my fingers. I keep nervously messing with my jewelry, but I'm keeping my hands out of my hair for the most part. Austin notices my nervousness and gently takes my hand in his. I glance at him, and he's smiling softly at me, eyeing my outfit carefully.

"You look beautiful. I'm so excited for everyone to see how talented and gorgeous you are," Austin says.

You'd think after all these years, I would stop getting butterflies. But they roar in my stomach anyway. I smile back at Austin and focus on the scenery flashing by the backseat window. I would never have thought I'd be here. I'm still convinced I'm dreaming. There's no way I played a significant role in a big movie and am now on my way to a world-renowned film festival. But I am. In a shimmery rose gold gown, my hair delicately braided out of my eyes, and a face of glowing makeup, I have truly arrived. I'm who I'm finally supposed to be.

When the car slows to a stop, the nervousness peaks again, and I try my best not to tremble as I follow Austin out of the vehicle. I plaster a smile upon my face for the cameras and all but death grip Austin's hand as I finally plant both my feet on the ground. Flashes surround the both of us as we walk towards the carpet where the rest of the cast has also just arrived. It's been a little while since Austin and I saw the rest of the cast, as everyone had started new projects. So when Dacre opens his arm to offer me a hug, I accept it with a smile. We both flash grins for the paparazzi. Meanwhile, Austin wanders over to Priscilla, where they have some small talk. I observe as Austin motions toward me. He catches my gaze and beckons me to come to where he stands. I gulp nervously, having never properly met Priscilla Presley. We've had brief conversations over Zoom and the phone, but we've never seen each other face-to-face due to the pandemic. Until now.

"Priscilla, let me formally introduce you to Roman," Austin places his hand on the small of my back, gently pushing me toward the woman with flaming red hair and a brilliant smile.

"Hi," I say meekly, "It's good to finally meet you," I reach out a hand for her to shake, not knowing what to do.

Priscilla takes my hand and wraps it in both of hers, cameras flashing beside us at the gesture.

"I'm delighted to meet you as well. Austin talks about you all the time," she says.

"Oh," I glance at him with a small smile, "All good things, I hope."

"Wonderful things. From what he's told me, I have no doubt that your performance in the movie will be fantastic."

Priscilla is asked for more photos down the carpet, so she lets go of me with a final wave.

"You look starstruck. Never thought I'd see the day that happened," Austin says jokingly into my ear.

I roll my eyes, "Of course I am. She's Priscilla Presley!"

Austin shakes his head at me, laughing softly as he places his hand on my waist. We stood for photos for a while with each other and our costars. All my nerves slowly melt away until it's time for the screening to begin.

Austin and I are next to each other as the film begins. I grasp his hand. This is the first time anyone, including the cast, has seen the movie since editing finished. As the movie continues, I find myself enthralled with Austin's acting. He has truly outdone himself, and I couldn't be more proud. It's odd seeing myself on a big screen as a main character. I struggle to hold back tears when the final scene is on the screen. Baz did a great job pulling at heartstrings throughout the movie, especially at the end. When the film finishes, the theater erupts into applause. And it doesn't stop. Austin stands up along with Baz, and Austin pulls me up with him. Eyes are on us from every direction, and I feel incredibly seen, but in a good way. The applause lasts for over ten minutes. Tears well up in Austin's and my eyes, and a sense of pride swells in our chests. The underdogs in acting have now done something monumental and did a kickass job at it, too.

The after-party is as wild as you'd expect. I was swarmed several times by different people asking me questions, patting me on the back, and gushing about how good my acting was. I took every compliment the best I could, even if I still doubted my new talent at times. But I wasn't expecting what was about to happen at all.

"Roman Todd, right?"

I spin around from my place at the bar, a glass of champagne in my hand, "Yes?"

"I'm Matt Duffer," the man behind me offered a hand for me to shake, "I loved your performance."

"Thank you," I smile, trying to decipher where I recognize him from, "I wasn't expecting the role, but I'm glad to have played it."

"So I've heard," Matt returns my smile, "I'm impressed. It's not often an extra comes up so fast in the business."

"I'm just as shocked as you are," I say, taking a sip of my champagne, wondering where this conversation will go.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do next?"

I ponder for a moment before answering honestly, "I actually haven't."

Matt rubs his chin, "Well, my brother and I are about to start filming our show again. We're looking for a certain personality type for a new character. And you seem to fit that character from what I've gauged so far."

"Really? What show?" I furrow my eyebrows, somewhat surprised that a producer is interested in me.

"Just this little show on Netflix called Stranger Things. Ever heard of it?" Matt says jokingly.

My eyes widen, "Of course I have! You want me to be a character in the show?"

"I'm definitely keeping an eye on you for it. Here's my information," Matt says, fishing a card out of his pocket, "Call me when you want to meet and talk with my brother and me. We definitely would love to get to know you and have you audition for the role."

"Wow, okay. I'll contact you when I can for sure," I grin, trying not to seem giddy.

"Great," Matt returns my grin and bids me farewell, disappearing into the party crowd.

I down the rest of the champagne in one go and scan the room for anyone I recognize. I spot Luke walking up to the bar, and I nearly bolt over to him.

"Guess what," I tap his shoulder, excitement obviously etched on my face.

I shove the card in Luke's face, and his face contorts into a large smile after he quickly scans it.

"That's awesome, Ro! Have you told Austin yet?" Luke asks, his eyes glowing.

"You're the first person I spotted, so you're the first to know," I say.

"Let's go find him. He's gotta know right now!" Luke grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd.

We finally see Austin chatting with Baz and approach them.

"Guess what happened!" I gush when Austin turns to me.

"What?"

"One of the Duffer Brothers approached me, and he thinks I'd be a good fit for a new character on Stranger Things."

Austin's eyes widen with an equally wide smile, and he grabs my face in his hands, "Baby, I'm so proud of you."

"What a wonderful opportunity!" Baz says, "That show is very popular. It could open many doors for you."

"I think you've already helped open doors for me, Baz. Thank you," I say as Austin pulls away from me.

Baz looks at me proudly with a knowing gleam in his eye.

Maybe I'm not just an extra after all.

taglist: @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24 @alltheflowerstomav @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @cece05 @poppet05 @every-dayiwakeup @whore-for-hewitt @butlerslut @rosepresley @fangirl125reader @dre6ming

#austin butler #austin butler x oc #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis #elvis (2022)#austin butler elvis #austin!elvis #oc priscilla #elvis film #floralcyanide writes #the extra fanfic

69 notes · View notes