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215-luv · 1 year

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AKAASHI & TSUKISHIMA WHEN YOU’RE IN AN UNCOMFORTABLE SITUATION

(tw: cursing, attempted assault)

AKAASHI

it was really unexpected of him to act this way—not when everyone sees him as a composed person especially with the way he handles the volleyball team’s team captain, bokuto kotaro. so, when people saw the way his calm demeanor drops the moment his eyes take sight of some third year dude being handsy with you, it’s over.

keiji was in the middle of volleyball practice with the team and as usual, you were there to watch him from afar. your peace, however, was interrupted when a senior who you were kind of familiar with approaches you out of the blue. you recognized him as the student council president, however, you couldn’t recall his name. since you were the only person in the gym who seemed approachable, he asked about the coach and told you he was practically there to talk to the team captain about some collaboration for all clubs in the school. since almost everyone in the school knows that you frequently visit the gym, he knew you were someone who was familiar with the ropes of the team, so he initiated a conversation with you.

to be honest, the whole interaction with him didn’t stain you with a bad feeling at all. he was actually really polite and didn’t show any ulterior move towards you. soon enough, the initial topic of the conversation regarding the clubs slipped away as it turned to a talk about your similar interests. he was an easy going guy, and he introduces himself to you with his name, kento, and to your surprise he already knew yours before you could introduce yourself.

too basked in your conversation with the council president, the both of you seem to didn’t get a hold of the time. you were pulled out of your conversation when you hear the cheers of the team, signaling the end of practice, and you were oblivious to the unusual look your boyfriend has been giving you from across the court.

and, well, it seems the team has noticed the distant look on keiji’s face as he eyes the seemingly fun interaction you’re currently having with kento. he swears it’s been like that the whole duration of the practice—but it’s not like he’s jealous about it, of course. there’s no way he’ll act irrationally about some little conversation you’re having with the student council president. he might have approached you about something related to school, of course, he wouldn’t think of any other reason why kento would approach you other than that. but why are the two of you laughing so much? why are you smiling so brightly? oh dear god, this is driving him crazy. the gears on his brain were rapidly functioning with a feeling of discomfort in him that he couldn’t fathom why he’s feeling that way. his overthinking was eating him alive and he so desperately wanted to push it all away because he feels like he doesn’t have any reason to feel uncomfortable at all.

“isn’t that yamazaki kento? the student council president?” keiji hears konoha murmur to komi, who was nodding in response, eyes suspiciously eyeing the boy you were still talking with.

bokuto’s eyes practically widens, “yamazaki kento? so his last name is yamazaki? i swear i heard him introducing himself by his first name to keiji’s s/o a while ago.”

what?

keiji didn’t hear that right, did he?

“huh? they’re that close already?”

no, what the fuck—because why is keiji feeling this way? why does he feel his stomach churning in discomfort. he shouldn’t feel this way at all. you were simply talking to someone, let alone making new friends. he didn’t want to make you feel like he’s stopping you from doing so simply because he’s getting a bad feeling about all of this.

the side glances and stares from the team doesn’t make things much better for keiji. his mind is full of endless thoughts, but the blank look on his face tells another story.

he tries to keep his composure, he swears. he’s calm, he promises. he’s okay, you’re okay. he trusts this yamazaki kento, he’s the student council president for pete’s sake.

everything felt so odd for keiji that he could barely register his feelings or how he should feel about the situation. from the look of his teammates, however, this was a bad thing. and honestly, he already knew it was from the beginning.

“well..” bokuto trails off, eyes pointing towards you and yamazaki kento with a frown, “not sure what to feel about that, but it looks like they’re having fun so i guess there’s no harm in that.”

konoha snorts, “psh, yeah, too much fun.”

“konoha, shut the fuck up.”

yeah, konoha, shut the fuck up. keiji practically screams in his mind—an unusual thing of him to do. a bitter taste lingers in his mouth as he glares at the wing spiker.

moments of awkward silence passes, as if the team is waiting for any reaction from the setter. and finally, keiji sighs, thinking that he should put an end to this conversation before things get worse.

“i have no idea why all of you are making unnecessary comments about this. it’s really nothing to make a fuss about, honestly.” he says, eyeing the team with a cold gaze that greatly hides the uneasiness he’s feeling deep inside.

“gee, he’s a good actor” komi murmurs next to konoha with an amusing look. bokuto hears it and hardly nudges his torso in panic.

bokuto clears his throat with a dry laugh, “well, yamazaki kento is an honorable council president, after all! it’s no doubt he’s talking to your dear s/o because of their amazing and outstanding role in this school—“

“yeah, well, you might want to think about that again,” konoha cuts him off with a cough, lowly pointing a thumb at the other end of the court where you’re located at. everyone swiftly turns their head towards that direction.

and as if keiji is met with his worst nightmare, to his horror, he sees the so-called honorable student council president subtly holding your arm, his body stepping closer towards you—as if the distance between you isn’t enough.

okay, what the hell? keiji is damn sure that you and this guy just met, so why is he being so touchy with you? why is he letting you call him by his first name? is he that dense? is his head okay? doesn’t he know that your boyfriend is literally standing a few distances away, eyeing him with a glare?

and there, keiji sees it. he swears it’s his breaking point.

you took a step back, trying to put some distance between you and yamazaki kento.

but then this prick takes a step forward, knowing damn well you’re trying to distance yourself from him.

there it is. keiji notices, you’re uncomfortable. your body language says it all. now, the endless thoughts in his mind is replaced with pure anger.

keiji’s pissed.

“okay, what the fuck?” bokuto comments, “first, he’s on first name basis with akaashi’s s/o, now, he’s being all handsy wi—wait, akaashi, where are you go—oh, shit. holy shit! it’s happening. he’s pissed alright. konoha, go get your damn camera!”

from the other side of the court, resided you and yamazaki kento.

you swore things were going well. you and the guy had a lot of things to agree on. but why is he suddenly being all handsy with you? what’s the purpose of him holding your arm as if he’s known you for years? you just met him! hell, you didn’t even know who he was before he introduced himself.

also, it was so weird of him to know your name beforehand. the feeling of ease has been eaten away by anxiety as you did your best to kindly give yamazaki the hint of your discomfort.

your lips forms into an uneasy smile, “u-uhm, would it be alright for you to move away a bit? we’re too—“

“too close?” yamazaki kento continues with a smirk plastered on his face and your stomach churns.

the guy now raises both his hands, subtly holding the sides of your arms while he eyes you intensely and you panic.

your breathing turns uneven, “w-what are you do—“

as if the air was knocked out of your lungs, an arm aggressively pushes the guy away from you, creating as much distance between you two. the air suddenly feels lighter—all the more when you see your boyfriend standing infront of you, his warm hands replacing themselves on the sides of your arms. his hold on you was much more gentle, more comforting and warm. you never felt so relieved your whole life.

“keiji,” you breathed out with a relieved look on your face. and keiji was quick to pull you in his arms to an embrace, not giving a damn about the student council president on the floor from the impact of his push.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, his lips lingering on your forehead, “you’re okay. i’m here. you’re safe with me, darling.”

thank god keiji’s intuition was always right.

TSUKISHIMA

kei is always one who has a lot of things to say—most especially the mean things. it’s simply who he is and he doesn’t give a damn if he attracts a lot of enemies because of that trait of his. when it comes to you however, he doesn’t seem to get himself to act mean towards you—his significant other. he’s head over heels for you, it’s a fact. and it’s sure as hell that the whole school knows about that. the infamous, cold-hearted guy falls inlove with a down to earth, kind person. how cliché—but it’s cute, isn’t it?

it was training camp, and karasuno, along with other teams from different regions in japan were present. you were one of the people who volunteered to help with the team since this year’s training camp would involve more schools to join, therefore they needed the help.

and so, as the kind person you are, you willingly joined the team for their training camp. plus, you would be able to see kei more. the idea of traveling afar and meeting a lot of people gave you the feeling of excitement—the complete opposite of your boyfriend, who thought of everyone else but you a nuisance.

you barely were able to recover from shock when you’ve arrived at the destination. the gym was huge, filled with so many faces that some you were familiar with, but most of them you don’t recognize at all. kiyoko was snickering at the shocked look you and yachi had while some of karasuno had their jaws on the floor.

you were too busy gaping at the huge gym in awe that you weren’t able to register a tall presence approaching you. his fingers raises to flick your forehead with a tiny sound—the action nearly scaring the wits out of you.

you tilt your chin up to meet eyes with your boyfriend. you give him a glare and he replies with a tiny smirk.

“are you surprised?” he asks you, his tone giving off the vibe that he’s teasing you.

you huffed, “of course i am, kei. it’s my first time after all.”

“well, you’re going to be met with even more surprises the longer you stay.” your boyfriend says, raising a hand to place it at the top of your head, “good luck with that.”

“yeah, sure. thank you for your concern, kei.”

you have your regrets.

a day has passed and you realized you wanted to take back your insincerity when you thanked him for wishing you a good luck.

“what’s a ‘lil mouse like doin’ you here? are ya lost?”

fuck. scratch all that, you needed to escape. now.

it’s a funny situation, really. kiyoko has instructed you to fill up the team’s water bottles. and you’ve successfully done so, your mission was done. everything was going so well. you thought you wouldn’t come across any problem along the way because you were just simply told to fill the bottles with water.

however, as you were on your way back, you bumped into an unfamiliar face—a tall guy who you assume to be one of the players from some school based on the shirt he’s wearing.

you apologized for bumping into him, and the basket filled with bottles that you were holding were so heavy you wanted to rush back to the gym as much as possible.

the guy, on the other hand, had other plans.

as soon as you were about to walk past by him, he raises his arm to block your away, and your head swiftly faces him in surprise. suddenly, the basket on your grip feels heavier.

you gulp, “y-yes?”

“what’s a ‘lil mouse like doin’ you here? are ya lost?” the guy smirks, eyes moving up and down your body. suddenly, you feel sick in the stomach.

you try your best to get out of here as soon as possible, making sure not to offend the guy because god, he looked like he could do something to you any second.

you released a forced laugh, “haha, just doing some duties for the team. i have to go now—“

“hol’ up. why are ya leavin’ so soon, darlin’?” the guy now blocks your way with his whole body, his tall figure blocking the light from you as you’re covered with his shadow. you wanted to cry, why is he being so persistent? you should have asked kiyoko or yachi to come with you.

you sure are met with a surprise. kei was absolutely right and you’re surely damned. dear god, where’s kei when you need him?

“where are they?”

kei agitatedly questions the team managers as soon as the team gets back to the bench after ending another match. it has been nearly twenty minutes and you haven’t returned—which worried kei although he tried his best not to cause a huge fuss about it.

“i asked them to fill the bottles for the team,” kiyoko answers, “however, i’m not sure what’s taking them so long. i’m starting to get worried.”

kei immediately furrows his eyebrows, “they went there alone? you mean to say no one accompanied them?”

fuck, he’s mad. the whole team screams in their heads. they all inwardly panic. all of them stood there stiff while glancing at one another, unable to say anything as it might fuel the anger inside kei even more.

yachi shudders, “w-what if—“

“don’t.” kei glares at her, stopping her from whatever she’s about to say because he’s sure it would only make the discomfort he’s feeling even worse. poor yachi squeaks at the glare he sent her, but he couldn’t care—not when you’re taking too long to go back. he swears his heart begins to beat rapidly every second he doesn’t see you.

“tsukishima..” sugawara tries to console him, he had an uneasy look on his face while slowly approaching the middle blocker.

“we’ll find them right now, we don’t have any matches lef—ah, and there he goes,” suga trails off, watching as the blonde walks out of the gym without a word to find you.

“no need to tell him what to do, i guess.”

the rest of the team then decides to split up to find you, hoping that you’re safe and sound.

back to where you were, near the area of where the water fountain was—you still stood there frozen, holding the heavy basket of water bottles.

the guy who’s practically towering over you lowers himself so he could get a better glimpse of you—the action making you take an immediate step backward as the close distance between you two made you uncomfortable. you gulped, refusing to look at him in the eye. he was so close that you could feel the sensation of his warm breath, making you feel nauseous.

“pretty bird.” the guy chuckles.

from the corner of your eye, you could see his hand raising itself to the side of your head. you flinch when his fingers were close to hover themselves over your hair strands.

and then, in a swift motion, a hand grabs the guy’s wrist, halting him from touching you. you jump in surprise.

“wh—“

“touch even a strand of their hair, and i’ll make sure you won’t have the hands to do so.”

that voice. your eyes widens, the uneasiness in your stomach dissipating as soon as you see your boyfriend standing close next to you.

kei quickly squeezes himself between you and the guy so he’s blocking sight of you from the weirdo. he grabs hold of your hand from behind, giving it a tight squeeze in assurance—then he takes the heavy basket from your grip. you couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. you were practically shaking, and you hadn’t realized that until kei came to the rescue.

“you’re here.” you whisper quietly under your breath, only for your boyfriend to hear, “thank you, kei.”

once again, you feel your boyfriend squeezing your hand, the action giving you the right amount of warmth and comfort. despite his gentle advancements towards you, it was evident that he’s practically fuming.

kei was overflowing with anger.

the veins on the side of his neck were popping and evident. his eyes were narrowed and his lips were turned to a tight frown.

“so?” kei looks at the guy infront of him, his golden eyes piercing and cold, “do we have a deal?”

and just like that, the guy walks away with a huff.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #akaashi x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu comfort #akaashi fluff #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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egcdeath · 2 years

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clean sheet

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: nothing stirs the pot like your ex-husband, gossipy soccer moms, and a weekend-long soccer tournament. (part two of spectator sport)

word count: 7.7k

warnings: canon divergent: no apocalypse, implied past emotional abuse, jealousy/misunderstanding, kinda angsty in the beginning but verrrry fluffy at the end, insecurities, there was only one bed, mutual pining, sarah and chloe being menaces as usual

author’s note: this past week has been extremely rough. like, ao3 author’s note apologizing for being gone rough, so i’m just as surprised as you are that i was able to write 7,000 words of a part two to spectator sport. enjoy!

part 3 / series masterlist

Tournament season was nothing short of an absolute pain in the ass. It was a pain in the ass when you were married and able to evenly split your responsibilities, and it’s even more of a pain in the ass now that your ex-husband has decided to participate minimally in all soccer related ventures.

To be completely honest, it seemed like it wasn’t just soccer ventures your ex wasn’t too enthused to partake in, as Nathan had ditched most of his fatherly duties whenever a new, younger girlfriend was in the picture. But that was neither here nor there.

Despite Nathan taking Chloe to her past few games this season—you were completely swamped with work and you had practically gotten on your knees and begged for him to take her to them—he didn’t seem to have any interest in assisting you with tournaments.

That was fine and good. You knew about the events far enough in advance to move some meetings around, block off some time, and cross your fingers and hope that nothing came up unexpectedly in the days prior to your game. Although, what you couldn’t account for was your car completely breaking down on your way back from a bagel shop the morning before you were meant to be on the road for the next three hours.

But alas, the universe had its way of kicking you when you were already down, leaving you biting back tears in the passenger seat of a tow truck as you attempted to figure out a Plan B.

“Please, Nathaniel,” you pleaded over the phone, pacing back and forth in your bedroom as you tried your absolute best to hold the last bits of your composure together.

“I’ve been at her last three games,” it was impossible to miss the sneer in his voice as if his own daughter was the biggest burden in the world. “And where have you been? It’s practically been a month.”

“Where have I been?” you laughed out of anger and at the absurdity of his words. You knew that he knew for a fact that you’d been drowning in work. “Nathaniel. You know how my work has been. Please just do this one thing for your child. It’s the fucking weekend. It’s not like you’re doing anything else.”

“It’s always work with you. You know, this is why I couldn’t be with you anymore. You were always so selfish with your time and inconsiderate with mine,” he sighed dismissively. “And for the record, Claire and I have a reservation tonight. So I am doing something else.”

It was staggering how minimized and powerless he made you feel after every interaction despite how little he actually was in your life. Every time you interacted with the man you thanked whatever forces out there that you somehow found it in yourself to leave.

You huffed and blinked away tears, hugging yourself to attempt to bring yourself some sort of comfort. After signing the papers, you told yourself you would never waste one single tear on the man again. You wouldn’t let a little argument like this change that promise.

“Can I at least borrow your car?” you sounded so meek and desperate, but you were running out of options, and with every passing minute you had less and less options.

Instead of responding, Nathan simply laughed at you before ending the call. Humiliated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt about the whole situation.

You angrily wiped away the hot tears that had slipped down your face without your permission and sighed as you evaluated what options you had left. You could take an Uber, but it would be ridiculously expensive. You could rent a car, but Chloe was bound to get stains and dirt tracked throughout the vehicle. Anything else was far too short notice.

You flopped down onto your bed and screamed into your pillow. The stress from your overfilled work week combined with an extremely inconvenient situation was taking its toll on you, but you needed to figure something out.

Maybe you could carpool with someone. Although, you weren’t sure who was still in town, as most of the families liked to leave at the ass crack of dawn. If that wasn’t enough, you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to sit in a small contained space with some of those families for a prolonged period of time.

Maybe you could ‘borrow’ Nathan’s car regardless of what he said. You were sure his new girlfriend had a car–if she was even old enough to drive one–and they could certainly take that car to their ever-important reservation tonight. Although, maybe getting a grand theft auto charge in order to make it to a soccer tournament wasn't your greatest idea.

You were deep in the eye of a brainstorm when a soft little knock rapped against your door, seconds before Chloe peeked her head in.

“Hi mom,” she greeted, completely unaware of the extent of your conundrum. “Sarah can’t find her cleats and wanted to know if she could borrow one of mine. Where do you keep my old ones?”

Joel.

Oh shit, Joel.

Joel who you’d accidentally ghosted after the promise of a date. With work and ex-spousal drama, you hadn’t even had a moment to think about the date. A knot tied in your stomach as you thought about how you’d treated him. He probably thought you were icing him out on purpose.

“They should be downstairs in the front closet under the coats,” you informed her. “You almost ready to go?”

“What does it look like?” she retorted sassily, doing a little spin for you to show off her full soccer attire.

“Alright,” you chuckled, trying to keep it together for just a while longer. “Go find those cleats.”

With that, she was off, and you were alone with just one option.

You dialed the number that you’d only texted once, and bit your lip as the phone rang out. The knot in your stomach tied and untied with each ring of the phone, nausea rattling you as you thought about all the ways he could answer. He’d probably be pissed that you were only reaching out to him now, only when you needed something from him. He’d probably tell you off, just like Nathan, and laugh at you over the phone over the mere prospect of hitching a ride with him.

After three rings, Joel finally picked up, saying your name aloud, as if he was genuinely surprised to be hearing from you.

“Joel, I’m so sorry,” you took a deep breath and attempted to hold back the wave of emotions coming over you. This stupid stressful morning. This stupid stressful month. And stupid you for leaving a good man waiting for you. A good man who was probably moments away from becoming a bad man, like every other one that seemed to appear in your life.

“My car broke down this morning and I don’t have any other way to get to the tournament. Is there any way we can carpool? I’ll literally pay you to take us. I’ll drive Sarah to school for the rest of the school year. Hell, I’ll take her to games too. Just… please.” It felt like you were talking a million miles a minute.

“Hey, take a breath,” he said, clearly picking up on the frantic energy you were radiating through the phone. “We’re heading out in about twenty minutes. We’ll swing by your place. And don’t worry about all that other stuff, okay? Just take a big breath. I’ll see you soon.”

You were flooded with relief as you spoke your gratitude and hung up. It almost felt odd to not have someone go off on you for waiting so last minute to reach out for help, or for not reaching out to them after you said that you would. You were puzzled, and not completely sure what you did to deserve someone like Joel in your life, but you were grateful to have him regardless. Especially now that he was coming to save the day.

Sure enough, around twenty minutes later, a pickup truck arrived in front of your house, and Chloe was sprinting to go sit with her friend in the backseat, still overjoyed from the news that she would be traveling with her friend.

Timidly, you entered the car, still anticipating a stern lecture or even a scolding for being a shitty mom, and an even worse potential partner. “I really can’t thank you enough for this, Joel,” you expressed before he had the chance to speak, hoping that if you expressed your gratitude before he had the chance to yell at you, the blow would be lessened. You kept your eyes down as you sat down and set your overnight bag in front of you.

“Of course. You know, I still owe you a favor after that dinner fiasco,” he glanced over at you and smiled, and some of that fear you had been holding onto began to melt away. Although, you blanched at the mention of the date that you were meant to go on, but hadn’t had the chance to do so. Yet, there didn’t seem to be any malice behind Joel’s words.

“I guess we’re even?” you offered, looking over at the man to attempt to read him as he slung his arm around the back of the headrest and looked through the rearview mirror as he pulled out.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, almost… dejectedly? Maybe you were reading into it too much. After all, his attention was split between you and getting out of your driveway safely.

Regardless of what anyone was feeling, your journey began with the girls in the back chatting amongst themselves and a slightly weighted silence between the two of you in the front while the sound of radio filled in for the lack of conversation between you and Joel.

You spent the majority of the ride looking out your window, deep in thought. You tried not to let Nathan get under your skin all that often, but maybe he was right about the way you spent your time. You’d practically thrown away your shot at any relationship with the man next to you, simply because you were too busy and forgot about a promise you’d made.

You tried to focus on the excited chatter in the seat behind you, and less on the venomous words Nathan had given you over the years, but it was a difficult task. Paired with the fact that you were still waiting for the shoe to drop and Joel to go off on you, it wasn’t the most pleasant time.

After about an hour of driving (and in your case, brooding), you had to make a stop at the gas station, as the truck was running low on fuel. You reached for your wallet and grabbed a twenty dollar bill, then passed it back to the girls behind you. “Go get some snacks for us?”

“Of course!” Chloe cheered, hopping out of the car and racing Sarah into the entrance of the gas station.

Joel was definitely going to go off on you now that the kids were gone. You held your breath as you got out of the car, leaning against the hood of the vehicle as Joel stood by the pump, his eyes fixed on his vehicle.

“I can’t tell you just how sorry I am. About not reaching out to you to go out sometime, and for having to ask you so last minute to take us to the tournament. I’ve just been absolutely swamped with work, and Natha-“

“You’re fine,” Joel cut you off as he acknowledged your apology, keeping his gaze trained on the car. Here it comes. “You don’t need to apologize. Sometimes life just throws a bunch of shit at us at once.”

You nodded in agreement, your breathing picking up as you waited for the condescension or lecture to begin. Yet… it never came. You weren’t sure if he was as upset as you suspected, but Joel was certainly feeling more than he was willing to let on. The lack of eye contact and his slightly off responses told you that much.

“Is everything okay?” you finally asked, trailing off. “You’ve barely said a word all trip.”

“Everything is fine. I’m just tired,” he rubbed his forehead with his hand.

“Well, if you’re tired, I can drive us the rest of the way over and you can sleep. That way you’ll be rested for the game,” you offered, taking a daring step towards him, and setting your hand on his bicep—a peace treaty of sorts. And maybe a hint that you were still interested in whatever sparks had been evident before.

Joel immediately stiffened under your touch, and subtly rejected the motion. He glanced over at you for just a moment before looking back down at the gas pump and shut his eyes. “That’d be great. I’m really exhausted.”

While you could believe that maybe Joel was just tired, there had to be more to the story. The way he rejected your subtle touch and the way he just couldn’t seem to meet your eyes told you that much. Perhaps you underestimated just how hurt he was by you not making plans with him, although it wasn’t like he’d reached out to you to set something up. In fact, the last time you heard from him was the night before the girls’ game following their team dinner.

“Of course. Go ahead and get back in the car, I can take everything from here.”

The rest of the ride wasn’t too long, but you were happy to contribute after asking for such a last minute favor. You drove straight to the grounds that the team was playing on that afternoon, as you were already pushing it on time, and certainly did not have time to go check into your hotel yet.

Your kids jogged off to greet their team and warm up with them, leaving you alone with Joel once again as you grabbed fold-out chairs from the back of his truck.

“You feeling any better now after sleeping?” you asked, turning to look at him and inspect his face for any suspicious expressions.

“Yeah, definitely,” he affirmed, but his words didn’t exactly match what it was you had observed. He closed his trunk and began to walk away, and you followed after him, feeling a bit like a lost puppy.

“Joel, really. You can tell me what’s wrong,” you practically pleaded, part of you still waiting for the moment he would tell you off.

“I already told you,” his tone was defensive, and when he turned back to look at you, the agitation was clearly painted on his face. “Nothing is wrong.”

You were taken aback, but understood that you had crossed some sort of boundary in your continuous pressing of what was wrong. You felt more like a kicked puppy than a lost one as you walked out to the fields behind Joel, setting your chair up close to him, but with a little more distance between the two of you than what you would have preferred.

You didn’t talk much during the game, outside of cheering for your daughters and momentarily celebrating when one of them pulled something impressive off.

Although you didn’t interact much, it still felt nice to be back at a game after being gone for the past few weeks. And honestly, it felt even more nice to be back in Joel’s presence after those weeks, even if it was clear that something had shifted between the two of you.

When the second game began, you were surprised to come back from your short leg-stretch walk to find another chair placed next to Joel’s—and a woman happily chatting his ear off.

A pang of jealousy struck your gut as you observed the two of them. It was no secret that most of the moms (and some of the dads) on the team (and other teams) saw the same things in Joel that you did. But you had absolutely no right to feel jealous, considering the way you’d basically led him on, and you had absolutely no reason to believe that there was anything romantic going on between them.

But you felt unwell anyway.

You urged yourself not to look at them for too long, instead focusing on the game in front of you, but the sounds of their voices and the way their conversation easily flowed was far too distracting. Just the rotten cherry on top of an already shitty day.

You felt ridiculous and childish sitting there with jealousy burning deeply in your stomach as you mentally ran through all of the things you could have done differently. Maybe if you’d texted Joel the night of your dinner and found a day where you both weren’t busy to go out together, or if you’d just said no to taking on a few extra hours, you’d be the one giggling and playing with your hair as you chatted up Joel.

It was official: you couldn’t torture yourself with staying one more moment with the two of them. Instead, you shot out of your uncomfortable little chair, and hauled your jealous little ass over to the concession stand. If you couldn’t go back in time and fix all the mistakes you’d made leading up to today, at least you could stuff your face full of peanut M&Ms until you felt better.

As you focused on tearing the yellow plastic with a little more force than what was necessary, you completely missed Alice—one of the more gossipy mothers on the team—approaching you.

“Hey babe,” she greeted cheerily. “We haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Where’ve you been?”

Your mouth was currently filled with candy, so it took you a second to respond. “Work,” you said in between chewing. “I barely had time to breathe, let alone bring Chloe to her games, so I had to basically beg on my knees for a little help from her father. Speaking of which, how was Nathan?”

“Oh,” Alice paused and looked off to the side, a little too guiltily for your liking. “Yeah, he was fine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, brows furrowed at her strange reaction.

“Yeah! He was great. It’s just…” she trailed off and offered you an awkward smile. “We thought you two were maybe back together. You know, with the whole co-parenting thing.”

Your eye twitched. So the parents of the team were gossiping and theorizing about your love life. Great. That’s probably what was wrong with Joel—word had gotten back to him that you and Nathan were playing house again. No wonder he was putting such distance between you.

“Babe,” you tried not to let the annoyance you were experiencing reflect too much into your tone, “why would you tell people we were back together? Bringing your own child to their sports events is not exactly groundbreaking or relationship material.”

You were now gritting your teeth as the irritation really started to sink in. Joel probably didn’t reach out to you for your date since these fucking real housewives you were surrounded by had decided to spread baseless rumors about you from the moment your ex had stepped onto the sideline.

You were wrong. This was the rotten cherry on top of the absolute dogshit milkshake of a day you’d had.

“I’m sorry,” Alice didn’t sound as remorseful as you wish she did. You knew that deep down, she was enjoying this little game and would be more than happy to spread this information back to her friends. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s fine, the damage is done,” you sighed, shoving a handful of candy in your mouth.

“Have you seen Joel and Cindy, though? They’re so cute together!”

It was now clearer than ever that Alice was only interacting with you to stir the pot, so you simply put on the best fake smile you could muster and nodded. “Adorable. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go sit back down. I haven’t seen Chloe play in a few weeks, and she was doing so well in the last game, I’m sure she’s doing great now too!”

You didn’t wait for a response before walking off, attempting to suppress all of the feelings you were having with this new information you’d been given. In the three weeks you’d been gone, Alice had convinced the team that you and Nathan were back together, and Joel had already moved on. If you hadn’t cared so much about Chloe’s passions, you would’ve had her quit on the spot. You simply could not handle any more of this soccer parent culture.

Sitting back down in your seat, you offered Joel an M&M, to which he politely declined. You wondered if there was a way for you to casually explain that you and Nathan were not and would not ever be an item again, but then again, it seemed like with Cindy in the picture, the ship of making anything work with you two had sailed.

You attempted to focus on your daughter, who unsurprisingly was doing quite well in the game. You were glad that no matter how shitty your day was turning out, your kin was at least having a better day—and having fun doing it.

You simply went through the motions through the rest of the day, squeezing your daughter tight with a hug when all of the games for the day were finished and telling Sarah about how great of a job she did, then falling back into a somewhat uncomfortable silence on your drive to the hotel.

Checking in had proved to be… a bit of an odd situation. As you pocketed your room keys, Chloe made an odd offer—her and Sarah would share a room while you and Joel would share your own.

It shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did when your daughters proposed that you and Joel share a room so that they could have a sleepover, but it caught you off guard regardless.

You were hesitant for several obvious reasons, but their room was adjoined to yours, and there was a perfectly nice pull-out bed in the sofa, which meant there was absolutely no need to share a bed with Joel. After some consideration and discussion with the man who would be your roommate for the night, you ultimately settled on allowing it. You would take the sofa. Joel would take the bed.

Besides, it’s not like he’d be spending the majority of the night in the room. After a short conversation, he was getting dressed and going off to dinner with Cindy.

You tried not to feel bad for yourself for too long. You’d already spent the majority of the day feeling bad for yourself, whether it was for the shitty situations you found yourself in, or the way the moms on your team treated your love life like their favorite reality show.

Knocking on the door adjacent to your own, you were happy to see Chloe crack open her door.

“Hi girls,” you greeted. “What do you say to a pajama party?”

“Yes!” Chloe squealed, swinging her door wide open. Conveniently, they were already dressed the part, and were seemingly ready to wind down after a long day of physical activity.

After ordering an absurd amount of room service and having nothing short of a feast with your favorite pre-teens, the three of you sat on the floor under a blanket fort you’d constructed as you played Uno with some random network romcom playing in the background.

It felt like after a long day of holding your breath, you could finally let go of it, winding down with your two favorite children.

“Do you feel like you had a good day today?” you asked, placing a green three on top of the pile of cards.

“Yeah! I missed having you and my dad together at our games,” Sarah remarked, drawing a card.

Chloe nodded in agreement, setting down one of her own cards. “You really spice up our games. I think Joel yells a little louder at us when you’re here. He was pretty quiet when dad was bringing me.”

You tried not to let your emotions show on your face too much in front of the children, but it was undeniably sweet that you being around brightened Joel’s light, even now, when things were a little more awkward between the two of you. You simply hummed as you set down your card.

“Yeah, he kept asking me if I knew where you were,” Sarah drew a card then placed the card back down on the pile. “I think he missed you.”

So maybe Joel wasn’t as mad at you as you thought he was. Asking where you were had to be a good sign, right? Maybe it really just boiled down to him thinking you were back together with your ex-husband, and him not wanting to cross any boundaries.

“I think you’re our good luck charm. Did you see how well we played today?” Chloe asked, discarding a card. “Uno.”

“I think you guys are just good,” you set down a card. “Uno.”

“I dunno, when you were gone we kept losing,” Sarah set down a skip, causing Chloe to exclaim in frustration.

“Our friendship is over,” Chloe announced to Sarah for what must’ve been the third time that night.

“Mean it this time?” she teased.

“I swear!” the pair broke out into giggles as you set down your final card.

“We need to team up on you! How is it that you keep winning?” Sarah asked, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“She’s a dirty cheater,” Chloe tutted. “Just ask her why we don’t play Monopoly anymore. Right, mom?”

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “It was a rough patch. I keep winning Uno because you two keep targeting each other. What happened to team work?”

“No such thing in Uno,” Sarah shrugged.

You laughed aloud, feeling some of your stress melting away with the motion, “you guys are too funny.”

Chloe yawned and reached for the pile in the middle of your little circle. “You can’t compliment your way out of this, cheater.”

“Ugh, whatever. I didn’t realize I raised such a sore loser.”

“Takes one to know one!” Chloe jeered.

“Sure,” you chuckled. “Well, I think it's this cheater’s bedtime. Can I help you guys undo the pillow fort?”

The girls agreed, and you helped take down the mess of blankets, chairs, and pillows as they began to wind down and settle into bed.

“Goodnight, girls,” you bid farewell as you approached the adjoining door. “If you need anything, just come on over, okay? Sweet dreams,” you blew kisses to both of them before going back over to your side of the room.

When you made it back to your room, Joel was already in bed, the soft light of the television illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room. The light from the screen and his pajamas were doing him all sorts of favors, making him look like he walked straight out of your domestic fantasy.

“When did you get back?” you asked as you grabbed your phone charger from your bag and approached the pull-out bed.

“Like, an hour ago,” he shrugged, leaning back against the headboard.

“You should’ve come over and played Uno with us,” you suggested, attempting to get cozy in your makeshift bed as you pulled the threadbare hotel blanket over your legs. “We had a little fort and everything.”

“Didn’t wanna intrude on your girls’ night,” he mumbled sleepily, hugging a pillow as he adjusted himself in bed.

“We would’ve been happy to have you,” you muttered, trying your best to relax in the rather uncomfortable makeshift bed.

Joel simply grunted in response, his eyes now shut. You could only assume that sleep set in quickly, and you’d now lost him to dreamland.

You stared up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Part of you wished that this whole day was just an awful dream, and that you’d wake up the morning after the team dinner at Joel’s house, able to do everything all over again.

Rolling onto your side, you hoped that the shitty pull-out bed would become even slightly more comfortable, but your hope was to no avail. You sighed softly and closed your eyes, wondering if you started counting sheep, if it’d be any easier to fall asleep.

About fifteen sheep in, Joel’s soft voice calling your name pulled you out of whatever sleepy daze you’d been in.

“Hey, are you sleeping yet?” he practically whispered.

“No,” you responded, voice far above a whisper. “The floor would probably be more comfortable than this.”

“I told you you shouldn’t have taken the pull-out bed,” he goaded.

“You wanna get down here and sleep on it for me?”

“No. Well… Would it help you sleep better?”

“Joel,” you huffed.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you listened as the bedsheets began to rustle.

“No, no, don’t do that. Your body needs an actual bed after all that hard manual labor you do. Lay back down.”

“Not if you can’t fall asleep because of that shitty bed. Trust me, I’ve slept in worse conditions.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Now I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.”

Joel paused for a second, and you assumed he’d finally given up. Good.

Until he called your name once again. “Come up here and get a good night’s rest.”

“No,” you argued, though your sleepy brain was practically begging you to move to the comfier location. “You need it more than me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You snickered, “whatever you want it to mean.”

Silence on his end once again. Time to start herding your sheep.

“Why don’t we just share? There’s probably room for three of me on this bed.”

A bold proposition from a man who got back from a date only a few hours ago. A bold proposition that you were probably a bit too enthusiastic to take.

“Fine,” you huffed. “Only to get you off my ass.”

Every part of your body was thanking you as you slipped out of the shitty couch-bed and padded over to the empty side of the real bed. Tentatively, you got in bed and under the sheets, making sure to keep yourself on your side and keeping your back facing his.

“Goodnight, Joel.” you finally whispered.

“Goodnight,” he softly said your name, and you imagined the look on his face. Maybe in a different world, one where you’d gone on a date with him when the offer was on the table, you’d be in bed with him without the argument, with his arm wrapped around your waist as he wrapped you in a warm embrace, or with him hovering above you as you attempted to keep quiet in a hotel filled with guests who were more than willing to speculate about you.

It was nice to have someone in bed with you again. Even if all you had was the heat radiating off of the man next to you, and the sound of his deep breaths as he fell deeper and deeper into sleep. Despite all that had gone wrong in the day, and whatever Joel’s situation was with his date, somehow laying in bed with someone else made you feel at ease.

You didn’t have to count any more sheep to fall asleep that night.

When you woke up, Joel was already out of bed, pulling on a hat and slipping on his shoes. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he commented as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “Wanna get complimentary breakfast before it goes away?”

You stretched out as you listened to the proposition, wondering if the phantom feeling of an arm around your waist during the night was real or just a dream. “You know me so well.”

Somehow, the tension between the two of you didn’t feel so heavy that morning. Maybe sleeping in bed together had helped to break the ice, or maybe some other variable was at play. Regardless, you were happy to feel like your relationship had gone back to what it had been a month ago, even if Joel really was beginning to form something with Cindy.

The hotel lobby wasn’t too busy when you and Joel went down. You were certainly grateful, as the fact that you had just rolled out of bed and gone to breakfast was more than obvious to anyone who’d looked at you for more than two seconds.

You were stirring endless circles into your coffee when Joel sat down across from you, sighing as he leaned back into his chair.

“Sleep well?” he asked before taking a hearty sip of his own coffee.

You held back a laugh and exchanged it for the slightest hint of a smile. If only he knew just how well you slept. “I guess,” you admitted. “I always sleep well in hotel beds.”

You were completely uncertain of how to address the bed-sized elephant in the room, or if it was even a good idea to do so. But the lack of coffee in your system and the remnants of sleep clouding your brain had lowered your inhibitions significantly, causing the next words to tumble out of your mouth.

“Thank you for letting me join you,” you involuntarily held your breath after saying so, too afraid to openly wait for his reaction.

“Of course,” he hummed, beginning to stab at some of the food on his plate. “I couldn’t just let you break your back on that couch-bed.”

“Well I appreciate it,” you began to pick at some of your own food, the two of you falling into a far more comfortable silence. Obviously something had shifted between the time of the game and now, but you couldn’t quite place it. Since you were already in the mood to address elephants in the room, you had no issue blurting, “How was your date last night?”

“Date?” Joel looked up from his scrambled eggs with a furrowed brow.

“With Cindy? From the other team?” you took a bite of toast and didn’t back down from the loaded eye contact going on between the two of you.

“Well, it wasn’t a date. Cindy’s married. Happily, I might add. Just catching up with a family friend.”

You were slightly taken aback, but not necessarily in a bad way. Suddenly, you felt silly for all the energy you’d wasted the day prior feeling jealous and bad for yourself, when you didn’t even know the full story.

“Well, what about Nathan? Is he a family friend?” it came out defensive, and you couldn’t particularly blame him for it. Finally some proof that this was what that weird tension had been all about.

Maybe if your mind was slightly more clear, you’d find it cute that you were both a little jealous over each other. Maybe you really hadn’t thrown away your chance at this thing the way you’d thought you did.

“No! I told you, I’ve been swamped with work. Like, getting home so late that I only see Chloe in the mornings and when I tuck her into bed, late. She needed to go to her games, and I knew there was only one person I could possibly guilt trip into bringing her. But I would rather marry the actual incarnation of Satan himself before spending another day with her father.”

“Oh,” Joel said quietly, lifting his disposable cup to his lips and seeming rather deep in thought.

“But you thought I was with him this whole time?”

“I guess?”

“And you still invited me into your bed?” you pressed, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“There was nothing inherently romantic or… sexual about that. I just didn’t want you to wake up in pain,” he set down his cup, but continued staring you down.

You shrugged. Solid answer, although you certainly wouldn’t be opposed to either alternative scenarios.

“But even if there was, it’s only because you deserve better than that man. And from what I’ve seen, pretty much any man is better than him.”

“Including you?” you pressed.

“What do you think?” the little smirk he was obviously trying to fight only egged you on.

“I think I agree with you. Except, I don’t love that you just assumed something about my relationship status because one of those human rumor mills told you it. Next time, you wait until you hear it from me, okay?”

“I normally would’ve, I guess I’m just so used to things not working out with me, my brain was just looking for a reason why this wouldn’t work out either.”

“To be fair, not contacting you after saying I’d go out with you is pretty solid grounds for thinking we wouldn’t work out. But at least let me take you on a date before we try to figure out if we’ll work out or not.”

“You still want to go on that date?” Joel asked, sounding more astonished than you would’ve expected.

“What do you think?” you winked, tossing his words right back at him.

Just as your exchange began to wrap up, you were joined by two sleepy kids, who most certainly heard part of your conversation about going on a date. You couldn’t even bother with feeling mortified, too high on the knowledge that you had yet another shot with Joel.

“How was your sleepover?” you asked the girls without missing a beat.

“Fun. We missed you, though,” Chloe sighed as she buttered up a bagel.

“Yeah, Uno’s not the same without you,” Sarah added as she began to cut up her pancakes.

“I’m flattered, girls. We’ll have to have an Uno tournament sometime and get Joel on it too. Mostly so he can witness me beating everyone’s ass at it.”

“Language, mom. And we all know you’re a cheater.”

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”

“I don’t know, I kinda believe it,” Joel teased.

“Not you too, Joel! You’re supposed to be on my side,” you laughed.

Your table fell into comfortable conversation for the rest of breakfast before you had to send the girls off to go get ready for their games. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to check if you were still dreaming after waking up in this domestic paradise following the terrible day you’d had yesterday, but even if it was a dream, you weren’t sure you wanted to wake up.

The rest of the tournament went smoothly, with the ice sufficiently broken between you and Joel, and you even joining in on his conversations with Cindy as the three of you sat together. The girls’ team ultimately won, leading to some very happy passengers as you drove back home. As you exited Joel’s car, you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and a whispered promise of going out with him soon. To think, when you’d started your weekend, you never would have believed it would end in this manner.

——

“Mom, hurry!” Chloe yelled up the stairs at you, sounding a little more impatient than what you would’ve liked.

You could understand where she was coming from. Following the end of the soccer season, Joel had been quite busy, and Chloe hadn’t been able to see her closest friend outside of school hours for quite some time. If you were Chloe, you’d probably be anxious to see Sarah too.

Hurrying down the stairs with a newfound sense of urgency, you gave your daughter a little side hug.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” you apologized, understanding her urgency a little too well.

“Don’t be sorry. Just be efficient,” she pulled away from you and checked out your clothing. Sure, it was 6 PM and you were already in your pajamas. Sue you for wanting to come back home after a long day at work and put on your softest cat-printed pajama pants. “That’s a good outfit.”

“Oh, thank you. I was actually invited to Paris Fashion Week, but-“

“You can tell me in the car!” she exclaimed as she scurried off, with you following behind the little slippery bastard.

In the car, Chloe seemed to be acting a little… suspicious. Although, you didn’t pay much mind to it, making small talk on the short drive over to her friend’s house. Her friend whose father you still hadn’t found time to go out with.

“Oh yeah, being here reminded me that Joel had something to tell you,” Chloe announced as you pulled into their driveway. “Come in with me?”

By now, you were slightly suspicious, but the idea of having some sort of confrontation by Joel about you not following through on your word once again overrode your suspicions of your child.

As Chloe rang the doorbell, Sarah swung the door open, smiling at her friend, then up at you.

“Hi, come on in!” she said sweetly, opening the door all the way and leading you inside.

As you walked in, your eyes caught on a makeshift pillow fort—one that oddly resembled the one you’d helped the girls make during their tournament. Cute.

“My dad’s inside. He wants to talk to you. See you later, bye!” Sarah talked quickly, and even quicker than her speech, she disappeared up the stairs with your daughter.

Something was definitely up.

You approached the fort with trepidation, and slowly pulled up a flap, where you found Joel dressed similarly to you in a loose shirt and plaid pajama pants, comfortably splayed out on his back while he seemed to be playing Candy Crush on his phone.

“Oh, hey,” you said awkwardly. “The girls said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Oh, hey,” he parroted back, seeming even more taken aback by your presence as he immediately sat up. “Uh, I actually didn’t know you were coming over?”

Oh.

It was always something with your kids. They knew how to scheme, and they knew how to scheme well.

“That’s fine,” you laughed to yourself about the situation. “I was gonna head out anyway. It was good to see you, and for the record, you clean up pretty well,” you teased, alluding to your similar mid-evening pajamas.

“Wait!” he said quickly, nearly cutting you off. “Sorry, wait. Don’t go yet. Unless you have somewhere else to be…?”

You shook your head and shrugged.

“I mean, obviously our kids set us up again, but we also haven’t followed through on that date yet. So maybe we can do it now?”

“Maybe,” you hummed as you sat down next to him on a mountain of pillows. “What would you want to do?” you asked, gently tapping his leg with your fuzzy-sock clad foot. (Chloe didn’t need to know that what was taking you so long was finding these god-forsaken socks.)

“Well, I’ve been wanting to take you out to some snobby, fancy restaurant,” he began.

“Oh?” you voiced, brows raised.

“But I don’t really think that’s either of our speeds.”

“Agreed. I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I’m liking it so far.”

“We also probably shouldn’t leave the girls home alone at night,” he continued to think out loud, his soft eyes never leaving your own. You almost felt like you were caught in a trance by them.

“So what do you suggest we do, Joel?” you asked.

“Well, we have this wonderful pillow fort already at our disposal. Maybe we can order some food and watch a movie?”

“I think sitting in a pillow fort while eating food and watching a movie is my love language. That sounds lovely.”

You two smiled at each other, and you could hear your heartbeat pound in your ears as a warm feeling filled your chest. It had been far too long since you’d felt any semblance of this feeling.

An abundance of Thai food and an argument over what movie to watch later, you were curled up like a cat beside Joel admiring the look of his face under the lighting of the fairy lights that were hung up throughout the little fort.

“Ugh, why haven’t we done this sooner?” you asked, lifting your head out of the dip of his shoulder.

“We’re both too busy,” he murmured, looking away from the television screen to look over at you.

“I’ll literally take sick time off just to do this again,” you remarked.

“I think that’s just the Thai food talking.”

“It was fucking amazing.”

“Told you.”

“But it’s not just the Thai food. I really like you a lot, Joel. I like spending time with you. I like talking to you and arguing about whether a shitty romcom or shitty action movie is better. I like doing mundane shit with you, like putting up fairy lights in a fort to enhance our ‘fort experience’. I like cuddling with you. Has anyone ever told you that you’re basically a human furnace? Anyway, I hate the fact that our daughters had to make an elaborate scheme just to get us together. I wanna make more time for you, because you deserve it. But like, only if you also wanna spend more time with me,” you confessed.

“Of course I want to spend more time with you. And in the spirit of honesty, I really do have the time, sometimes. I guess I just worry that you wouldn’t want to spend your free time with me.”

“Joel, I would sit and watch paint dry on a wall if you were there with me. From the moment you entered my life, you’ve made everything a little better. If I have the time, I’m never gonna say no to being with you.”

He paused for a moment as he seemed to process that information, only coming back with a quiet, “Can I kiss you?”

You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him like no one you’d ever kissed before. It felt like the Fourth of July in your stomach as a moment you felt you’d been waiting for all your life finally came to fruition.

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and felt warm all over. You could go out on a limb and say that as far as dates go, this one was pretty successful, and to think, if it wasn’t for your daughters’ intervention, none of this would’ve happened.

Yeah, you definitely needed to treat them to something.

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poeticpascal · 1 year

Text

White Lies (Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: violence, Joel kills 3 dudes (what murdaaah?), descriptions of blood and wounds, stitches, Joel feels guilt and shame but is also very soppy and very in love, fuff and angst all tangled up, descriptions of chronic pain

A/n: I have had a bloody nightmare the last few weeks with suspected endometriosis, which is what inspired me to write this. In my head, reader has endo and the medicine is some sort of contraception or strong painkillers to help her manage it. But it isn't explicitly mentioned so you can imagine whatever you most relate to. Please do let me know what you think, and as always, requests are open!

It’s a harsh winter, even by Boston’s standards.

The QZ is coated in a veil of thick snow, the blizzard that took hold weeks ago now bruising the streets with an icy fist.

Joel pulls his coat tighter around himself, grateful at least for the cover the snowstorm offered, the skies foggy and grey. He can slip through the alleyways much quicker, much quieter beneath the frost. His footsteps are erased almost as soon as he leaves them, and when things get messy, he can soothe his wounds in the freeze.

Which is good, because things get messy a lot.

Not that he’d tell you that. You were too pure, too gentle; not unlike the snow that paints your doorframe now.

No, Joel keeps those things from you. The world has been unkind enough, and if he has one purpose now, it’s to protect that sweetness of yours. To collect it, each golden ray of sunshine that so easily radiates from you, to give it back and let you bask in the warmth of your own soul.

No one deserves it more than you do. Least not him, and yet you’d given him more love, more sweetness, than he could ever dream of.

That’s why he told you he was working a late shift today - sewage, he thinks he said - rather than where he actually is at 3am, catching his death in an old littered alleyway.

He occasionally shifts to avoid the silver moonlight dripping from the gaps in the fire-escape stairs above him. Tonight’s meeting should be a simple one, free from FEDRA’s strict patrols; he’d done this long enough now to know when, and where, was safest for these things.

He stays on high alert, though. Just in case.

Marco’s late. He isn’t known for being the most competent of dealers, but Joel was getting desperate now, and he was the only crook in the QZ who could get what he needed. He was a small man, a bit pathetic looking, really. But he was smart, and he had connections that even Joel couldn’t make for all his smuggling and dealing.

So when Joel’s supplier told him he couldn’t help him anymore, he didn’t have a choice. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

“Miller, there ya’ are.” Joel’s snapped out of his thoughts, his looming regret of this whole situation, as Marco strolls down the alley. He grins, in the same cocky way he always did, the sort of grin a man who couldn’t win a fight but has enough men who could wrapped around his finger, doing the dirty work for him.

Joel insisted he come alone. Not because he couldn’t handle his goons; he knew he could. Maybe. But it would cause a scene, and draw attention, to something he very much wanted to keep under wraps.

He’s semi-surprised to see the two men walking behind Marco. Deep down, he’d had some faith that the dealer would stick to his word.

“Quiet the fuck down,” Joel warns, seething through his teeth as his eyes search the alley behind them, making sure they hadn’t been heard. “Who are your friends?”

Marco follows Joel’s gaze towards his companions. “They’re just here to observe.”

The men are the same height as Joel, maybe a little taller. He recognises both from the sleazy speakeasies that lie beneath the floors of the QZ. Where the bad guys go.

One is bald, with a jagged scar carved across his cheek and over his eye. He’s scowling, unlike Marco and the other man, who looks somewhat softer with thick hair grown to his shoulders and brown eyes that stayed on Joel like bedrock.

“That’s not what we agreed,’ Joel growls.

There’s tension in the air, thick, and they must feel it too because Marco’s henchmen each have a hand hovering near their sides, where silver blades reflect the white of the snow.

“I recall us also agreeing that you’d get your meds in return for the money. But we’re doing things a little differently today.” Joel remains stoic, though his eyes turn dark and angry, the moon’s light no longer illuminating his features. Marco tiptoes slowly towards him, getting so close that Joel can feel his breath and raising a hand to pick a piece of lint from his flannel shirt. “I want my money. But you might have to wait a little longer for your meds.”

Joel reacts then, squaring up to him, stepping forward and clenching his fists. The other men wrap their hands around their blades, anticipating a fight. Marco just laughs.

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, though they all know he understood what was going on.

“You’re gonna give me the amount we agreed. And then, you’re gonna speak to one of your guard friends, and cut me a deal. Then you might get your meds.”

Joel’s anger swells inside him like a beast, his previous care to stay hidden long gone as he imagines driving his fist into Marco’s smug, son of a bitch face again and again and again.

He has to think this through, though. He needs those meds. Marco can see the cogs turning. “Just give me the money, Miller. Don’t make this difficult. You can’t take three of us.”

“No?” Joel retorts, already decided in what he’d do next. “I don’t think it’s worth findin’ out. Give me the meds.”

Marco sighs, dropping his head and stepping away from Joel, leaving him to face his men. “Shame, Joel. You really coulda helped us.”

He nods to his men, who immediately draw their blades and attack. The first lands a punch on his face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the railing. Before he can recover, the other has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat, tries to think. The cold steel of the rail stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle one of the men - the softer one - to the ground with him.

Marco only stands and watches as Joel throws his weight onto the man and smashes his head into the stone floor. The other grabs his shoulder, spinning him round but Joel’s prepared this time and he dodges the swat of his knife. Instead he throws a punch into his stomach, making him double over which gives Joel the opportunity to grab the knife strapped to his calf and drive it through the bald man’s throat. He stumbles, collapsing to the floor with a choked cry, and Joel turns back just in time to see the other man trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. Joel stands first, easily pushing the man to the ground, and stomping on his head with as much force as his steel-toed boots would let him. Both men stay down.

Marco has regressed into the darkness of the alley, and he looks somehow smaller than usual. He’s pathetic, and if this was any other job, he’d laugh. But this wasn’t a laughing matter, and there was only one target for him; the medication.

The smaller man reaches into his pocket, searching for his gun, but Joel anticipates the move and has already reached him and thrown him against the wall before he can find it. His movements strain the wound in his abdomen, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel it.

Joel’s fist pins Marco to the wall by his throat, making him splutter and flail like a fish out of water.

“Where are the fuckin’ pills, Marco?” He just continues to flail, trying to pull Joel’s hand off of him with both of his own, to no effect. Joel scoffs, throwing him to the floor and dragging his knife out of the now dead henchman’s neck. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I’ve got no use for ya.” He uses his shirt to clean the blade, the flannel already soaked in blood, his own.

“For fuck sake, Marco whines, slightly out of breath. “They’re at my place.”

“There anyone else there?” Joel asks, so nonchalantly that it almost sounds like a passing thought.

“No, no one there. But you’ll need me to get you in.”

Joel looks up again, the now-clean knife held in his fist with a vice-like grip. He stalks towards Marco, ignoring his desperate pleas.

“Shouldn’t be a problem-”

With that, he stabs him in the chest, letting him choke and gasp on the floor and searching his pockets for a key. He finds it, and does a quick, final survey of the alleyway. The once perfectly settled snow is disturbed, kicked up in the fight, and deeply stained with blood.

Joel curses, but leaves, only now noticing the burning pain from his torso. He leans against the wall, now stood out in the street, open; but there are no guards. He doesn’t think he’d care. Instead he grabs a fistful of the snow around his feet, packs it into the wound, hissing at the sharp pain of the ice but quickly feeling relief as it numbs him.

This was going to be a long night.

—------------------

It’s another couple of hours or so before he returns. There were, in fact, people at Marco’s place - but Joel knew that would be the case anyway. They weren’t a problem.

He’d showered in Marco’s flat, after taking out the men hanging out in there. Protecting it, he assumed. And he’d found a med pack that let him stitch up the wound to some degree; it was a hack job, but it should do the trick. He’d had worse.

The most important thing was that he found the meds.

The old door of your place creaks as he steps inside, quickly closing it behind him before the cold could enter. It’s futile, really; the wooden pillars are rotten, decaying so badly that the wind sweeps through the cracks with ease, and he can see dustings of snow on the floor around your windows. But he tries anyway.

“Joel?”

There you are.

It’s scary, honestly, what your voice does to him. Even so quiet, so distant from the bedroom upstairs, it lifts the weight from his shoulders that he thought he’d carry forever.

“I’m here, baby. I’m comin’.” He pulls off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the door just how you like, and heads upstairs. His bloodied shirt is long gone, buried in some forgotten corner of the QZ, where he has a collection of discarded items by now.

You don’t reply, he doesn’t expect you to. He reaches your bedroom, gently opening the door and sighing at the sight of you lying there, curled up between mountains of sheets and pillows.

He’d almost think you look peaceful if he didn’t know how much pain you’re in.

“Oh, honey,” he laments, crossing the distance from the door to you and kneeling down beside your head. You open your eyes, though they’re weighed down by exhaustion, and a small smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of the man before you.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting a gentle hand poke out from the duvet and brush his jaw. He can’t help but grin back at you, the total mess that took place just hours ago wiped from his mind completely, and he leans into your touch.

The both of you just stay like that for a moment, your thumb sweeping across his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you wince, and no matter how much you try to hide it, he can see the wave of pain inflict your body.

“I’ve got your tablets, sweetheart.” He reaches into his pocket, a desperation to his actions now; he hates seeing you like this. You just nod, pushing a meek but honest “thank you” past your lips, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it. His heart swells.

Joel presses out one tablet and hands it to you, then picks up the glass of water that stands on your side table, making a mental note to replace it later. You take the pill, grabbing hold of his hand before he can pull it away, and give it a gentle squeeze. He follows your lead and tips the water to your lips once you’ve placed the tablet on your tongue, gently helping you swallow and squeezing your hand right back.

A look of relief washes over your face, and he finally lets himself relax. He stands, letting go of your hand and leaning over to kiss your forehead, before pulling off the clothes he’d taken from Marco’s wardrobe and climbing in beside you.

He only knew heaven in these moments with you, late at night, when your hands reach for him beneath the sheets and your head nuzzles into his neck. It’s no different tonight; he’s quiet, unsure if you’d fallen asleep in those few seconds, and as much as he wishes you’d rest, he can’t deny the way his lips curl when he feels your gentle touch wrap around him.

“How was today? Doing the sewage?”

Joel swallows. “Yeah, yeah. It was fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” His arms envelop you, holding you tight against him, one hand drawing gentle circles on your back. He’s lost in the bliss for a moment, letting it wash over him in waves, when your hand brushes his haphazard and you freeze. So does he.

“Joel,” you say; it’s still a whisper, but not the tired kind you’d given him earlier. It’s like you’re too scared to ask. “What’s that?”

He panics, holding you tighter, trying to think. He can’t believe himself for not remembering to cover it, to make sure you didn’t see.

“There was an accident today. I did some building work before I went to sewage, a pipe fell. Nicked me real bad-” you gasp, forcing yourself to sit up with shaky arms. Joel immediately pulls you back down, his hands grasping your face, staring into your eyes like they held the world inside them. It’s dark, but they glimmer, and he just hopes you can’t see his fear.

“No no. It’s fine, baby. I’m fine. Got seen by the doc, got a couple ‘a stitches. Says i’ll be all good by tomorrow.”

“By tomorrow? Joel that doesn’t sound right-”

He interrupts you. He hates this. “I promise, baby. That’s what she said. I promise.” He wipes a thumb across your cheek, and the way you seem to settle, to believe him, makes him ache. He hates this.

You nuzzle back into his side, placated. You trust him, endlessly, and he hates that he abuses that trust just as much as he needs to protect you. A means to an end, he thinks.

The two of you are silent for a few moments, your hand lay gentle over his wound. Like you’re trying to heal it. He thinks it’s working.

“Thank you for picking up my medicine,” you say.

“It’s okay.” His words are quiet, muffled; he’s got his face buried in your hair now, revelling in your scent, and really, he doesn’t want to talk about this with you. He doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already has.

You’re still oblivious, though. Still sweet.

“I’m so glad you can make my rations cover it. I don’t know what I’d do if they made them more expensive.”

Oh, babygirl, he thinks.

Because your rations don’t cover your medicine. Neither did his. Even combined, they’d hardly cover a drink in the bar these days. He’d seen you work and work and work, in spite of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen and tortured your bones until you could hardly stand up anymore, and he saw the way they laughed in your face and turned you away when you tried to get the help you needed. When you tried to trade your labour for medicine. You were nothing to them.

So he told you he could barter the price down. That it was best if he goes from now on, to make sure you’re not taken advantage of. He takes your rations, stuffs them right back in the savings pot you keep above the shelves in your kitchen, and leaves to make whatever underground deals he needs to in order to get those meds. And you didn’t know a thing.

He must’ve been quiet for a while, because you continue. “And I’m glad you don’t do those scary things anymore.”

That gets his attention. “Scary things?”

“Yeah. Like, the smuggling and stuff.” You take a breath, tighten your arms around his waist. “I mean, I know why you did it. I’m glad you were able to look after yourself.”

Joel curses to himself, unable to wipe the tears that brimmed in his eyes as you spoke, because that would mean letting go of you.

“But I’m also glad you don’t do that anymore. You go out, and you work, even the horrible sewage shifts like tonight.” You giggle, but Joel can’t even force himself to smile. Shame consumes him.

“I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels like shit.

If you notice his stillness, you don’t mention it. That alone makes his heart ache; you’d always been so understanding, so careful to make sure he’s okay while knowing exactly how to handle his feelings.

It’s odd, really, how fiercely you protect one another. He doesn’t let the darkness of the world so much as touch you, and you extract the horrors from his veins like a vacuum, making him forget the damage was ever even there.

His eyes flitter down, watching you drift asleep, finally at peace and free from pain. He exhales.

He’d never feel good about lying to you. But some things, he thinks, are worth it.

You are worth it.

And so he brushes away the hair that’s fallen over your eyes, trying to fight the droopiness of his own so he can keep them on you for just a second longer. But sleep overtakes him, and the only reason he lets himself fall into dreamland, is because he knows he’ll find you there, too.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #my writing #poeticbarnes #poeticbarnes writes

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wosoluver · 11 days

Text

Happier than ever Part I

Kika Nazareth x reader, Barça Femeni x reader, Katie McCabe x ex-girlfriend!reader

Other players masterlist

-> Bilie Eilish x woso prompts

is paired up with this social media!au

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

You made me hate this city.

Don't say it isn't fair

You clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable

You had woken up by your phone being swarmed by notifications of accounts tagging you in videos everywhere.

Worried that something bad had happened, you quickly went to check it.

By your own mistake, you had ended up seeing the video of your ex, having a good laugh about her 'last relationship'. a.k.a you.

It's like she was clueless of how guilty she was. You hadn't tried to blame her either. You ended things, and spared yourself from the chaotic situation that conversation would have entailed.

You call me again, drunk in your Benz

Driving home under the influence

You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath

'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends

flashback

"Katie, call me when you get this, please. Or just send me a text or something. Let me know if you're coming home." you said sadly into the phone. Your eyes red from the tears they shed.

You two had gotten into an argument when you said you were choosing to stay in for the night.

She exploded on you.

"You never want to do anything!" - "We clearly aren't compatible!" - "I don't even know why we're together!"

Her words replayed at the back of your mind, but suddenly you're were distracted by the sound of your ringtone. And you picked up immediately.

"Hey don't worry-fuck" and you heard the loud sound of car horns, at the other end of the line.

"What's going on!?"

"I'm on my way home okay? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Wait, are you drunk driving again?"

"Oh, save it! I just had a few drinks. We can talk when I get there-"

By the end of her sentence, you had hung up. Sat on the couch, you were desperately crying into your own hands.

The feeling that it was time to do what you had been avoiding for a while now, sunk in.

You decided to go for a shower, it would help calm you down, a little. When you walked back in the room, Katie was laying spread out on the bed.

"Where were you?" you let out a shaky breath, tears threatening to start falling once again.

"Relax, just went out with the girls." her face held a carefree expression, like your feelings were purely over exaggerated.

"You walked out without saying anything."

A big groan left her lips. "Don't start, am already home."

"That is not the problem! And clearly you don't understand that.

Now days, when we have an argument you leave without saying anything. I have no clue if you're okay. I'm lucky if I get a heads up from Kyra or Viv!

And you're risking yourself and others, by getting behind the wheel intoxicated!"

"I'm sorry, yeah?" throwing her hands up in the air. "Let's sleep-"

"No! You aren't sorry." you said getting your pillow from the other side of the bed. "I'm sleeping on the couch."

end of flashback

I don't relate to you, no

'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty

You made me hate this city

You let go of her. It was a pain to still be in the same team.

You just wanted out.

The city you had once fallen in love with, now seemed so bleak.

Your 'friends' were her friends. You couldn't escape it.

Avoiding the conversation on why you two weren't together, was becoming impossible.

Although they knew a bit about their friend's behavior.

You had confined into Laia, the only friend you had from back home.

But didn't bother to talk about with the others.

By now, Katie had given them her own version.

The thing was, you didn't want to make them choose a side. Or become a reason for the team to divided, and out of sync.

You decided to ask for a transfer, and you were lucky, that because of Mariona transferring, you had a ticket to Barcelona.

And I don't talk shit about you on the internet

Never told anyone anything bad

'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

And all that you did was make me fucking sad

You were willing to keep in how you felt and the situations that happened.

Believing that you two were simply opposites and that's why it hadn't worked out.

You wanted to keep a somewhat neutral memory of her.

It had been almost two months since moving here, but you hadn't shared anything on the matter.

You brushed your teeth slower than usual.

Bracing yourself for any questions that came up.

You look at your own reflection in the mirror. "You can do this".

You're better now. You're back to Spain, you have a team that has taken you in like one of their own, friends.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Bon dia." you said walking into the changing room. Only some of the girls had already arrived.

"Y/n! Good morning." said Kika, with her usual big smile on. She sat next to you. As new players, you ended up with lockers next to each others.

You gave her a tight lip smile.

"What's wrong?" her face twisted in confusion.

Along with her and Mapi, you were always cheery in the mornings.

"Nothing, just a little under the weather."

"Is that why you didn't answer my texts?"

"Sorry, I think it's on the 'don't disturb mode'. What was it about?"

"If you're still up to hang out after training? There's this cafe that I wanna go to."

Right there you let out a breath you held without noticing. She probably had no idea of what was going on online.

"Yeah,"

"Good morning, nena." said Alexia grabbing your attention.

"Ale, I'm twenty four." you reminded her, but she had already made it a habit.

Despite being almost in your mid twenties, the older woman had noted to herself from the first day, your bright and sweet nature. And from then on, had taken you under her wing.

"No use, she's still going to call you that." said Mapi.

"Sometimes, she still calls me 'cucumber girl'." Patri joined in. "I hate it."

You realized, you stressed over nothing. Maybe outside of the Arsenal fan bubble, this wasn't relevant at all. And although that was true, there was another reason for it.

Without your knowledge, Alexia had instructed everyone, that no one was to bring that subject up.

Laia had made sure to pass the message on.

You were there to start over, and they would make sure to support you on it.

Barça was your family now.

After training you decided to check your phone. See if things had died out a bit. You were being observed closely, without your knowledge.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, huh? She clearly didn't deserve you." said Ona, with a kind smile.

She unlike everyone else here, had seen from up close, how problematic the Irish player could be.

You gave her a silent nod, although you were thankful for her words.

"Ready to go?" Kika said, closing her locker and grabbing her keys.

"Yeah, let me bid the girls goodbye."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"So, how are you liking Barcelona?" you asked her sipping on your coffee.

"It's a lot like Portugal. How about you?"

"It's a lot like Sevilla."

"You don't say!" teasing you sarcastically. "I was talking about London."

"First of all, I'm never going to miss that damn weather." laughing a bit. "Secondly, I'm better off as you may know."

"What?"

"You know, the ex situation." but she looked genuinely confused.

"Does that have anything to do with Alexia saying we weren't allowed to ask you a lot of questions about Arsenal?"

You were the one surprised now. "She did that?"

"Don't tell her I said anything! I really want to be friends with her." she got a laugh out of you, as per usual. "She cares about you, we all do."

"It was a relief, not being the talk of the town, but I'm fine about it."

Her eyes were set on you questionably.

"Right, let me fill you in..."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

So don't waste the time I don't have

And don't try to make me feel bad

Three days later, the host of a female football centered podcast, got in contact, to ask if I would like to come on. I was unsure if I should.

"What do you guys think?"

"Fuck being the bigger person. Say your peace." said Kika.

"If she didn't want this to be a thing, she should have kept her mouth shut." Ale cut in, sounding very protective.

"Agreed." spoke Ingrid, Mapi nodding along with her girlfriend.

but after they had cheered you onto going, you made up your mind.

It be good for you and your fresh start in the spanish league, and what would likely be the height of your career.

You ruined everything good

Always said you were misunderstood

Made all my moments your own

Did you feel bad throwing that out there? A bit.

You could never understand, how people can be a shit person and while being unaware of their shitty behavior.

She was wrong to assume you would keep your head down again.

Just fucking leave time alone.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

I know this probably goes without saying, but this is pure fiction and no hate to Katie, I like her, but I needed a player to be the ex.

This will have a part 2 of Kika and reader.

I know I had other ones to get done, but I couldn't help doing this one!

Like & share pls!

#woso x reader #kika nazareth x reader #kika nazareth #barca femini x reader

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phyrestartr · 1 year

Text

The Intern | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader

#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now)

Note: I can't write anything without making it into a series lol I'm writing another part right now leave me alone!!!

-- The Intern --

[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]

Miguel didn't take interns. He hated them, actually; the way they'd needle him with too many annoying questions, the times they tried flexing their unimpressive knowledge of genetics, the way they'd fail to flirt and catch his eye–all of it ticked him off, made him snap and snuff out their bright, curious flames. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to make future scientists lose steam. But he had a limit, and these day, it was hit way too fucking often.

That didn't change when the tours came through. Actually, between his wife pushing his buttons and the young, bright-eyed scientists eyeing him over, everything just pissed him off more, shortened the limit exponentially.

And he saw you there, listening to someone with a better temper talk. You didn't look all too impressed. You were maybe a little bored, actually. Your eyes swept across the room in wide arcs, looking for something interesting to land on. That was a feeling Miguel could relate to all too well.

But your eyes eventually landed on him, somehow. You pursed your lips slowly, like it'd make too much noise otherwise, while your cheeks lifted in amusement. You glanced back to the speaker and back to Miguel, eyebrows gesturing too perfectly: get a load of this guy, eh?

Miguel's expressionless mask slipped for a moment, and he twitched a smirk. He shook his head and looked back to his work.

He did, however, glance at you on your way out. You didn't look back at him.

–

He and Dana agreed to separate. It'd be a momentary thing, a way to work out the kinks in their marriage without more random accusations and hurtful words being thrown at each other on the daily. Miguel didn't want that. He didn't want Gabi to be subject to it, most of all.

The separation calmed things down quite a bit, down to the point where Miguel wondered why they were arguing so much in the first place; until Dana did a very Dana thing and decided, for some reason, she couldn't take care of Gabi by herself while they were separated. Probably a ploy to get them back together under the same roof. Probably a scheme to manipulate the situation.

But Miguel could play hardball, too.

He'd pick Gabi up every day after school, and take her to the lab, but sequestered off in the cafeteria where a security guard was always present. She'd get to snack, she'd do her homework, and Miguel could work knowing she was safe. Not ideal, and maybe a little lonely for her, but easy.

Checking up on her was another good excuse to walk away from his work, too. And one of the times he passed by, in desperate need of a cup of coffee and boost from his little girl's warm smile, he saw someone sitting with her.

He watched for a moment as he stirred his coffee. Then, he realized it was you, that random intern from the tour a few months back. You were sat across from her, munching on whatever your late lunch was, and nodding emphatically to whatever his little girl was going on about. Her arms gestured wide and her giggle resonated brightly in the room, drawing some annoyed glances and cooing comments, but you didn't miss a beat, matching her laughter and big gestures. It was nice.

Miguel's shoulders relaxed a little for once.

He saw you there more days than not. And the days you weren't there, he often spied Gabi looking around, no doubt wondering where you were. It hurt his heart a bit to see her pout, truth be told, and he started to realize he should probably get to know you if you were inadvertently babysitting his kid.

So, the next time he found you there, he walked over.

You were beside her this time, both hunched over her usual tablet full of homework. You were the one gesturing wildly this time, talking too much with your hands as you explained fractions and common denominations and the sort in a way that truly only kids could tolerate and understand. Miguel had to put an end to it if he wanted to talk with you.

"So, for this one, the little bitch on the bottom is–"

"Sorry, 'little bitch'?" Miguel interjected, smirking when you jumped and Gabi gasped in delight. "Don't think that's proper terminology. Just a hunch."

"Daddy!" Gabi called, happily turning in her seat to hug her father. Miguel's mean smile softened into something kinder and gentler.

"Hey, mija. Doing your homework, huh?" He asked as he brushed back his girl's hair. "He's not giving you all the answers, is he?"

You balked before interrupting yourself. "Woah, hey, no, no, no, I'm makin' her do the stuff 'n the things, don’t worry 'bout it." Woah. Okay. That was a heavy Nueva York accent. Not what Miguel expected.

"Yeah! I'm doing all the work! Mr.(Name)'s just helping when I get stuck 'n stuff!" Gabi's brows knitted together in concern. "Don't get mad at him!"

"Yeah, don't get mad at me, Doc–she’s a smart kid, she don’t even need me to do this stuff for her, y’know?”

“Well, I already knew that.” Miguel smirked as you huffed. He sat down on the other side of Gabriella and peered across her tablet at you. “You’re an intern, right? You were at the–”

“The tour, yeah.” You nodded a bit and propped your elbow up on the table before resting your cheek against your palm to watch Gabi solve her equations. “Saw you, too. You looked pretty pissed.”

“Intern day isn’t my favourite day,” Miguel offered with an unbothered shrug.

“Yeah, I figured. You looked like you wanted to light ‘em on fire."

"I could've, but then I'd be out a free part-time babysitter."

You laughed lightly, and Miguel caught the charming dip of dimples light up your face. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? Guess I ain't mad at that. Gabi's a good kid, reminds me of my niece."

Miguel raised his brows a bit. A niece. "Huh. Guess that explains a lot."

"Dunno what you mean by that, but I'm gonna hope it's a good thing."

Miguel smiled a bit. "It's a good thing."

You smiled, too, though a bit more smug and proud. "Yeah? Good." You glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed, the cute tilt to your lips suddenly vanishing.

Gabi caught on and sent a powerful pout your way. "Already?"

"Yeah, sorry, chica. Gotta get back to work." You stood up and offered your hand to Miguel. "Didn't introduce myself. I'm (Name)."

Hm. Miguel liked how that sounded.

"Miguel. Miguel O'hara." But you probably already knew that, though you had the decency not to point it out.

"Nice to meetcha, Doc."

You shook his hand and ruffled up Gabi's hair before seeing yourself out, a sudden haste in your scrambling steps as you checked the time again. Hah. You must've been late for something.

"He's nice," Gabi said. Miguel's eyes fell back to her.

"You think so?" He's not bad-looking, either. "You're okay with him? You feel safe?"

"Ah-huh, ah-huh. He's not mean." Her big brown eyes sparkled up at Miguel, then. "I like 'im! Are you gonna be friends with him?"

Miguel glanced back your way, surprised to see you standing by the elevators and glancing back at him. You looked away when you got caught, but turned back again with a little wave, like you’d realized turning away looked awkward and suspicious and had to rectify it.

A light smirk tugged at Miguel’s lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

–

It started with chatting at lunch. Then, it turned into light touches on the shoulder and your thieving hands plucking whatever sort of drink or snack Miguel held in tired hands. And then, well, it just got worse.

Miguel growled into your ear as he held you pinned against the wall, his hips slamming up against yours, driving himself deep into your core. To your credit, you held your voice well, only letting the slightest peeps and squeaks out when the older man happened to hit your soft spot in his wild momentum. It’s not that it would’ve mattered, though; the Halloween party’s music blared too loudly in the cafeteria for anyone to hear you getting fucked braindead in Miguel’s office.

“Mmmmnnn–Doc, wait, wait, ow, ow, ow–” Your thighs constricted around his waist in a panic as you hissed and dug your blunt nails into his massive shoulders.

Miguel paused his cruel tempo and finally took a second to breathe. “I–what? You okay?” He asked, brushing some of your messy hair from your face. The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement as he was reminded of the dried fake blood trailing down your mouth, and the glue-on fangs you had set to your canines. You looked quite cute as a fucked-out vampire intern, he had to admit.

You nodded weakly as you panted. “Y-Yeah, ‘m good, you’re good.” You tilted your head back and bonked it on the wall behind you, no doubt influenced by the alcohol in your veins. “This wall sucks. Hurts my back.”

Ah. Miguel probably shouldn’t care. This was just a fling, some stress-relief from his frustrating marriage.

But he was too weak, apparently. “Tch. Picky,” Miguel scolded into your ear before pulling you off the wall.

“Picky?” You repeated, clinging to him desperately.

“Incredibly picky.” He walked a few steps, carrying you with his cock still buried deep inside of you, and rested you on his pristine desk instead. “Better?”

You sighed and pulled your shirt down more while you both got situated. “Yuh-huh.” You looked at him with that infuriating, lazy smile and wriggled your hips against him. “Continue.”

Miguel’s eye twitched. He couldn’t help but feel like he was accidentally subservient to you for that split second. He was supposed to be in control, not you.

“Smug brat,” Miguel scoffed before hoisting your legs over his shoulders and pistoning into you cruelly.

His core ached with want as you arched beautifully off his desk, and through the buzz of booze, he admired you; your own heavy cock wept against your stomach as your diaphragm stuttered with each needy dive into your messy heat. Your face flushed a captivating crimson while your eyes fluttered and shone with unspent tears clinging to your lash line. Then, your stupid costume teeth bit into your lower lip as your voice started to break free from its restraints and pushed by your bobbing Adam’s apple, letting new whimpers and clipped moans fill his office.

“Doc,” you whined, screwing your eyes closed and fisting your hand around your length. “Doc–”

Oh. Oh no. You were cute. Really cute in the way you started letting out bubbling praise and babbled wants, in the way your free hand clawed at his arm to just touch him and hold him while your high threatened to push you off the edge and into that endless spiral. Miguel hadn’t felt this wanted in a long, long time. He hadn’t been showered in praise, told how good he was, given someone’s full attention for even longer.

He couldn’t remember the first time he came first, either.

Because he did, with his teeth clenching, his thrusts breaking down into something erratic and out of tempo, he spilled inside of you. Electricity pulsed through every synapse of his nerves, bringing a wash of cool, prickling energy to his palms and curling fingers as he gripped on you harder, tighter, jamming himself inside of you with a reckless abandon.

“D-Did you–?” You asked. Miguel caught your gaze, and another gush emptied out of him–your eyes, wide and doe-like in surprised amazement, were too captivating, too endearing. And when you realized that, yes, you’d made him cum first, you were quick to reach the same peak.

Miguel was the one to moan this time. Your body clenched down around him in desperation to hold him still while your own white-hot bliss ripped through you. Pearly strands of white roped across your trembling hand and your stomach, one after the other, until there was nothing left to give. But with a sharp slap to your ass, Miguel found there was just a little more you could both give.

“Good boy,” Miguel mumbled, voice thick and full where it trilled. He gave you another good spank. “Good boy.”

Miguel slowed his hips gradually, slowly catching his breath in tandem with your wild panting as the afterglow stayed where the too-hot sear faded. His nerves relaxed with his body. His mind soon followed suit, too, which was a problem and a relief; a problem because he didn’t feel a shred of guilt, but relief in the realization of how simple this exchange was. Just sex. With someone he could tolerate.

“Shit,” you breathed. You glanced down at the mess you’d become, and grimaced. “C-Can a good boy get a, uh, a tissue or, like, five?”

Miguel rolled his eyes. He popped open one of the drawers to his desk and pulled out a tissue box and set it beside you before, like the bastard he was, he pulled out of you without warning and watched your hole clench around nothing before glossy whiteness oozed out of you. He ignored your sharp complaints in favour of enjoying the show and meanly stuffing his cum back into you before, for a third time, giving you a slap on the rear like you were a good ol’ used truck.

Miguel snatched the first tissue to clean himself up and tossed it away, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his clothes out like nothing happened, before turning and walking away.

“Hey, wh–seriously?!” You cried (or whined, or complained) at his back.

Miguel smirked to himself before calling over his shoulder, “Make sure you clean my desk up, too. I’ll get you kicked out of the program if it’s not in perfect condition tomorrow morning.”

But he almost crumbled under your sweet, cooing pleas for him to come back, to stay a little longer, but thankfully, a whirlwind of petty insults were thrown at his back when he reached the door. And he found the strength to keep going, to subject you to his little game.

A cruel game of torturing his favourite intern.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #smut

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

Text

Various CRPs x Reader who knew then before their incidents

Prize request 3/5 for @coldsushisworld ! I hope you enjoy!

Characters in this post: Jeff, Puppeteer, Eyeless Jack, Masky and Ben Drowned

Notes: Reader is GN! Some of these may be shorter or vaguer than others but that's simply because my brains is a little foggy on the details of things!

CW: Mentions of suicide in Puppeteers part, mentions of death and murder in.. well almost all the characters..!

MASKY

JEFF

Similar to Ben's part, you find out what happened. Your parents didnt tell you all of the details that happened the night Jeff went missing, and you'd later find out why when you got older. From the man himself, actually. I enjoy the idea that between the actual canon event of the source and my take hes mellow out.. just a bit, at least hes not going to take you down the second he gets the chance. It's been.. years, you thought he had died at some point actually. Hes loud and arrogant, but for one reason or another he trusts you. You havent turned him yet, and that's saying something. Sometimes things are just like how they were before; the two of you are joking with each other and sharing stories. You don't see him often due to him just.. dropping off and doing who knows what.. but he always comes back to you eventually

BEN DROWNED

You were both childhood friends. The day Ben died, you were told he had moved away. You didnt find out what happened until years later, when you started asking around. When fate brings you both back together everything feels. Wrong. Hes a ghost, and primarily confined to technology- currently hes worked himself into your computer, proving himself to still be the mischievous guy he was in life by subtly messing with your files.. but you grew up, and he didnt. Despite still being friends, there just wasn't enough for the two of you to relate to anymore. In a way it reminds me of Anohana (need to rewatch it but I recommend it). If Ben notices the rift he doesnt say anything

The terrible thing is that you dont know what happened to him. One day he was here and the next? Gone. On top of that, are you even aware that he doesnt seem to.. remember all that much about you? It's almost as if hes an entirely different person. Out of all the characters, your relationship with Masky needs to be rebuilt from the ground, simply because it didnt exactly exist before. You were friends with Tim, of course. To you, you're trying to jog his memory and do things you two have done before. To him, you look.. desperate. Overtime you do both grow closer but the relationship will never be like how it was before, and you're going to have to readjust to this new situation- though is that not the case with the rest of these characters?

EYELESS JACK

You had heard on the news what happened at his college. It looked like there was a massacre, and your friend was no where in sight. Even before Jack became eyeless, he was still.. closed off and reserved. However reunited with him he seems to have sunk deeper into that, even trying to get you out of his life again because of.. what was happening to him and what was changing. Your insistence almost breaks the both of you, but despite everything you manage to safely reenter his life. His new eating habits.. are something.. and that's assuming he even tells you.. he probably would, out of guilt for keeping it from you and just guilt in general for needing to conform to his new diet. It's very strained and tense for a long time in the beginning, even if you're the most open minded person. Jack's not going to let it be easy

PUPPETEER

You were.. friendly with each other before everything. But you weren't exactly all that close. Of course when you found about how he took his life, you felt horrible. But life goes on. You move on, and go on with your life plans... and you were doing good at that, before a figure appears in your room one night. Its terrifying, actually, and if it didnt start talking to you like you were an old school friend you would have tried to make a run for it. Maybe it was the shock that kept you in place? Of course, the figure was.. him.. he doesn't seem to recognize the name you knew him as, in fact you cant tell how much he actually remembers. He basically just invites himself to live with you, not all that bothered with the idea that you might not want that. Hes.. kind of a dick, actually, but hes charming enough for you to keep him around. Having conversations with him is interesting, as well. Hes usually respectful enough but theres some level of... sass.. that keeps you invested. Hes so much like how he was before, but also not. Hes still there but it's like hes been flipped on his head

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer imagine #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned x you #ben drowned imagine #masky x reader #masky x you #masky imagine #eyeless jack imagine #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #puppeteer imagine #puppeteer x reader #puppeteer x you

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love-quinn · 3 months

Text

— MADE WITH LOVE

summary —you're desperate to give spencer a good birthday. things don't quite work as planned, but he doesn't mind.

warnings — none

pairing — spencer agnew x fem!reader

pronouns — none (you/yours)

featuring — spencer agnew

word count — 963

note — happy birthday spencer i tried to pump this out but lowkey college is being wild rn. i hope you guys enjoy <333 i'm still not 100% in the rythym of writing for him yet but i am doing my bestest.

Spencer Agnew was the perfect boyfriend.

He was endlessly sweet, he always knew how to cheer you up in any situation, and he made sure to remember all the little details about yourself that he told you. Spencer prided himself on knowing you better than anyone else. The two of you had been dating for a little over a year and during your birthday he had gone to great lengths to make sure that you had the best day possible.

You had started dating right before his birthday the year earlier, so you had gotten him a gift and the two of you had ordered pizza at his place. You really liked Spencer, and you had at the time, but you’d only been dating for a few weeks so you kept it lowkey, mostly to save money.

But this year, you were determined to give him a really good night. He had work, so he’d promised that he’d swing by yours and you would see each other that night. You’d organized everything.He’d asked if you would keep it more lowkey, so you were going to be spending the night together in your apartment.

You had fully deep cleaned, every cranny and crevice of your apartment was sparkling. You had a small collection of gifts for him; a few new shirts, a few things related to video games and movies and a nice home cooked meal. You had hit the grocery store and gotten everything you needed, ready to pour your absolute heart and soul into this meal.

The only problem was, you were currently locked out of your apartment.

Your lock had been sticking for months now. Your super refused to do anything to fix it since you’d first brought it up and luckily for you it hadn’t happened while you’d been at your place alone. The few times it had happened, Spencer had been over and had been there to let you back in or you were on your way out and by the time you got back in it had managed to sort itself out.

This time, you were barefoot in your hallway trying to fight off tears. Your phone was inside and Spencer was due over in an hour. You’d mostly finished with dinner but that meant there were things on the counter that were going to be completely cold by the time you managed to get back in.

You had your keys in your hand, you knew better than to ever leave your apartment without your keys, but it just stuck in the lock and refused to turn. You sat in the hallway in your socks, head against the wall and tried to stop yourself from crying.

Spencer was endlessly patient and he showed that you loved him every single day, regardless of whether or not you were able to see each other in person. All you wanted was to show the same love back to him.

“Babe?”

He was crouched in front of you in the hall, talking quietly, boots scooching into your field of vision. “Hey, what’s up?”

You shook your head, wiping your eyes of the tears that had slipped out despite your resolution. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I wanted to do something nice for you but then I left something in my car and when I got back the door wouldn’t budge.”

Spencer held your hands in his and pulled you to your feet. “You want me to give it a try?” You nodded. Spencer pulled out his keys and tried his key to your apartment, it got stuck immediately.

You let out a frustrated huff, dropping his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said again. All you had wanted to do was to give Spencer a nice night on his birthday and you’d managed to screw it up. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t usually cry so easily, but you’d worked really hard and now it was all for nothing.

“Hey,” he reached out hesitantly, wanting to make sure that it was okay that he touched you. When you didn’t pull away, he put one hand in yours and the other on your shoulder. “Is there anything in there that you need desperately?” He asked. “Like, you don’t have stuff in the oven or your outside door open?”

You shook your head. He squeezed your hand. “You haven’t done anything wrong, you have nothing to apologize for. I love you, and I’m sorry that things aren’t really working out the way that you planned.”

You sniffed. “I love you too,” you said, a smile edging its way onto your face. At seeing you brighten his smile widened.

He leaned forward and kissed you softly, smiling against your mouth. “Are you hungry?” He asked. You nodded. “Come on, we’re gonna go get dinner now, and if your door isn’t working by the time we get home I’m gonna go beat your superintendent’s door down.”

You giggled softly, still feeling guilty that the night had been ruined. “I’m in my pajamas, Spence.”

Spencer looked down like he hadn’t even noticed; you’d planned on changing before he got to your place. “That’s the beauty of modern society, babe,” he said, squeezing your hand and leading you down the hallway. He held up his keys, jingling them in front of your face. “Don’t even have to leave your car. Just you, me and a pile of chicken wings.” He kissed you chastely, dragging you playfully down the hallway. “The perfect night.” You knew he was overselling it to make you feel better, and you appreciated it.

You stopped, your hand tugging on his. “Hey,” he turned and looked at you expectantly. “Happy birthday.”

He beamed at you, and you didn’t feel quite so bad anymore.

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew fic #smosh x reader

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 9 months

Note

9. "If I'm desperate it's all for you." For Nanami?

Last Call {Nanami Kento}

When the battle in Shibuya reaches its peak, Nanami decides to give you one last call just in case

A/n: so... since the request wasn't really specific, I took it upon myself to figure out the rest of the plot.

Pairing: Nanami x sorcerer!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of character death, mentions of anxiety and panic that are purely related to the situation,

Truth be told, neither you nor Nanami had expected the events of Shibuya to go that far. Having Gojo there had once been a comfort but now that he was gone, it was pretty much obvious that it was a life or death situation for many sorcerers and normal people.

But you had faith in both yourself and the rest of the sorcerers that were going to be there despite originally being somewhat conflicted about the participation of the students.

Nanami didn't say anything. You knew how he was, confident that the whole thing would end up in a matter of seconds. Everyone believed the same thing. Until Gojo was sealed.

There was a moment when you thought you should probably call Nanami after the news broke. "Just to hear his voice." You kept repeating to yourself, trying to prevent the panic and anxiety from settling in. He was a grade 1 sorcered after all, of course he would get the short end of the stick.

You nesorcver ended up doing it because you had to deal with some curses.

With your own battle having come to an end and with no further orders from above, you waited, keeping an eye on the rest of the sorcerers, helping whenever you could.

"I'm going in."

His voice startled you, almost making you flinch. You didn't have to turn around to unerstand that he was beyond frustrated. It was clear from the sharp tone in his voice even though Nanami always spoke in such a gentle and soft way to you.

When you turned around, he was standing right behind you, leaving little to no space between the two of you. Under different circumstances he wouldn't have done something like that but you needed that level of comfort and so did he.

"In?" You knew what he meant but the denial had started settling in; that this was far from over. It wasn't about defeating a couple of curses, lifting the veils and hoping to find Gojo hidden under some cardboard boxes.

"The next battles require at least grade 1 sorcerers." He said, looking down at you as you fixed his shirt and hair slightly. His chest was heaving, his own battle with Shigemo having just ended.

"I am grade 1." You quickly responded.

"We're packed."

"Nanami-"

"I have taken Ijichi to a safe place. Join him and wait for reenforcements."

"Excuse me?"

You knew what he was doing. Disclosing information to keep you safe even though one more person would make the situation slightly better. You knew he didn't want to offend your abilities or belittle you. He just wanted you safe but still... it hurt.

"Please, sweetheart, do it for me." Hearing Nanami like that was odd to say the least. He was pleading, begging you to stay safe without even attempting to 'argue'.

"Additional help won't hurt." Nanami turned his head to the side, a desperate attempt to keep his cool. He would fall down on his knees to beg you if he had to.

"Please."

"Instead of being desperate to keep me safe, you should be begging for help. Who knows what else they've got in store?"

"If I am desperate it is all for you, so please. Hide."

"And let everyone else suffer?"

"I'll suffer." He breathed out. "I will suffer if I come back and you're not alive."

Nanami never came back.

Tags: @vera-deville

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento angst #nanami angst #nanami x reader angst #nanami kento x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #jjk x reader #jjk #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #writing #anime and manga #anime #manga #jujustu kaisen

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rebouks · 1 year

Text

Brynn: You are much more silent than usual today-.. are you going to miss me?

Wyatt was going to miss Brynn a great deal, but telling her that seemed harder than it ought to be, so he said naught instead.

Brynn: You are not comfortable being happy?

Wyatt squinted, something Brynn had learnt he tended to do when she was on the right track.

Brynn: Maybe you should not fight yourself.

Wyatt: Maybe you only know I feel that way because you’re the same.

And as she tended to do when he was right, Brynn dodged Wyatt’s comment.

Brynn: Do you think I stay, if you asked me to?

Wyatt: I don’t think you want me to ask that.

Brynn: No, I don’t…

Wyatt: Do you want to stay though..?

Brynn: I not sure it’s a good idea to leave home-.. not for a man I spend only a few weeks with.

Wyatt’s brow creased, though he quickly rearranged his face; she had a point, whether he liked it or not.

Brynn: Does that hurt your feelings?

Wyatt: No…

Brynn hummed and tugged on Wyatt’s hand, forcing him to stop and face her. It was obvious he was lying. He wanted to know whether this was just a holiday fling to her, or something more, but every time he even thought about doing so it felt like someone had rammed cotton wool down his throat. He’d promised himself he’d be more honest, but it wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped…

Wyatt: What exactly would you be leaving behind? I doubt you’ve exactly made anything for yourself there-.. not with Gael’s arm to cling to.

Wyatt instantly regretted being so blunt as Brynn frowned slightly, a flash of sadness darting across her features.

Brynn: That is a cruel thing to say, no?

Wyatt: Maybe-.. though I’ve a feeling I’m right, so I’m not taking it back.

Brynn narrowed her eyes, he was right, of course. She had nothing of her own in San Myshuno. Everything she owned, down to the clothes on her back, had been paid for by Gael. She’d never thought about leaving before, she had everything she ever needed, technically-.. but spending time with someone who wasn’t afraid to interrogate her about such matters finally made her question her innermost protests, rather than burying them.

She didn’t like Gael, she didn’t like his friends or his apartment, she didn’t want him to propose, didn’t want to marry him, didn’t want to carry his children. It wasn’t ever supposed to be permanent; she wanted a life of her own…

Wyatt: Well?

Brynn: I not argue with you on my last day here.

Wyatt: We’re not arguing, are we?

Brynn: Exactly!

Wyatt ran his hand through his hair and sighed, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He needed more. He was desperate to know how she felt before she left, desperate to know how she’d gotten herself into this situation, whether she wanted out or not. He thought she did, but for once, he wasn’t sure of himself.

Wyatt: I just meant-…

He huffed as Brynn leapt on his back with a chuckle, that was the end of that then. He’d never realised until now how socially inept he was with women-.. no, intimacy; but Brynn didn’t seem to mind, maybe she could relate. He was willing to bet she knew what he was struggling with. It almost seemed as though she were goading him into being honest, like he craved to be.

Brynn: Let’s find somewhere nice-.. if you tell me what you meant, maybe I tell you a story.

He shook his head and snorted, amused; that was definitely what she was doing, wasn’t it?

Wyatt had done a lot of terrible things over the years. Amongst countless other felonies he’d taken more than a few lives - some with his bare hands - but no crime he’d committed had ever caused his heart to beat as erratically as it did now. Against his “better” judgement and despite his pounding chest, he’d held Brynn close and told her how he felt.

He told her how much he’d enjoyed spending time with her, how pleased he’d be if she stayed, and how curious he was about her situation back in San Myshuno. Brynn had softened upon hearing his words, appreciative of his honesty; and in return, she’d told him how she and Gael met…

Brynn hadn’t left Del Sol to begin with, choosing instead to remain employed by Varius, which had eventually been taken over by new management. Never embroiled in Ashton’s more nefarious business ventures, the casino and its franchise hadn’t suffered much, remaining completely operational as a result.

Gael was in town for family and work, hauled to the top floor by some of his rather more enthusiastic associates. Clearly uncomfortable, she’d taken him aside and entertained him in a different manner-.. she’d clocked him eyeing a handsome waiter surreptitiously, felt him recoil from her touch; he might’ve fooled his colleagues, but he hadn’t fooled her. Enjoying an easy night full of free drinks and cheesy jokes, she’d thought nothing of his proposition to attend an upcoming event with him the following weekend.

The event Gael had invited her to was a wedding – his brother’s wedding – and Brynn had suddenly found herself referred to as his girlfriend. She’d thought it quite funny at the time, what an odd man, paying an erotic dancer to pose as one’s partner. The money was good though, and it was much more enjoyable than working in some stuffy club, even one as fancy as Varius.

But as things do, one thing led to another and before Brynn could second guess herself, she’d agreed to move to San Myshuno and stay with Gael permanently. Genesis had seen her arse about Brynn’s newfound source of income, her friends Ace and Robert had moved away, Del Sol was smoggy and garish, held memories she’d rather forget; why wouldn’t she move back to San My? She’d have her own room in a spacious apartment, she wouldn’t have to work, Gael said he’d pay for her to finish school; it seemed like a good idea at the time, like she could have whatever she wanted.

Except she couldn’t. Gael was a controlling - albeit kind - man, terrified of being discovered by his peers. He told her where to go and when, what to wear, what to say, and how to act. He’d take her phone from her if she’d get distracted at one of his precious galas, force her to attend wellness retreats with his colleagues’ insipid girlfriends and wives whilst he and his friends smacked tiny balls with silly sticks, drag her on family vacations to hot countries where she’d get accosted by mosquitoes and prickly heat.

He’d bemoan her lack of enthusiasm when she wasn’t her usual self, but it’d been so many years that Brynn didn’t even know who she was anymore. He’d felt guilty then, promising she could pick their next destination; that it’d be just the two of them, no pretending.

Brynn had never imagined bumping into Wyatt again, but she’d often thought of him, wondering what he’d done after that fateful phone call. She’d almost felt proud of him, in a way-.. it wasn’t easy to turn against your upbringing like that, against your friends, against yourself. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt and he hadn’t taken it for granted, which was more than could be said for a lot of men she’d trusted in the past.

Having landed herself in hot water more times than she could count over the years, Brynn had learnt to be wary of her gut, but she couldn’t deny being drawn to Wyatt; she admired the change in him, despite the fact he seemed unaware of it himself. It was freeing to spend time with someone who didn’t expect her to act a certain way, someone who knew where she’d come from and what she’d been through, yet didn’t appear to judge her poorly for it. He’d done terrible things and so had she; it was nice, being on an even playing field for once.

Brynn had subsequently returned home more disheartened than ever, completely uninterested in her so-called life with Gael. She’d hoped Wyatt would call, hoped she’d get a taste of that freedom in her self-imposed cage, hoped something would magically change. But it hadn’t.

Wyatt: So, you’re not happy anymore?

Brynn: I am very happy here, with you-.. but that scares me.

Wyatt: Why?

Brynn: Because it means I have to confront the fact that I am not happy at home, and that is something I have never done before. I always find someone to take me in, but is always with conditions, I am never free-.. never happy.

Wyatt: Are you safe at least..?

Brynn: It is painfully boring, sharing a home with Gael, but he is not exactly aggressive.

Wyatt scowled; not exactly? That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, he ought to strangle-..

Brynn: I not want you to get involved, I think I would like to do something on my own for once.

Wyat: Okay…

Brynn: I put my foot down and leave, even if it means I have nothing. I not want to run to anyone else, including you.

Wyatt: That’s why you don’t want to stay?

Brynn nodded, it would’ve been easier to tell Gael to stuff it and stay here, but that was what she always did; fall into someone else’s hands. Being with Wyatt was different though, it made her want to choose him because she wanted to, because she could, not because she needed to. If that meant she had to throw everything away and strike out on her own first – even though she had no idea how to – then so be it.

Though he was glad to know the truth, Wyatt was less than thrilled with Brynn’s plan; but she craved true freedom, and after everything she’d endured – in part due to his own transgressions – he figured he owed her as much.

Wyatt: I won’t stop you then…

Brynn: This is why I love you-.. you help set me free in the end, like I to you.

Wyatt: You love me?

Brynn: You love me too, no?

Wyatt dipped his head in agreement. He wasn’t sure how it’d happened so quickly, but there wasn’t much point denying it any longer.

Brynn: Say it…

Wyatt: I love you too.

Brynn: Is not so hard, right?

Wyatt scoffed quietly and shook his head.

Wyatt: I don’t know-.. I’m sweating.

Brynn: [laughs] Ew-.. me too though.

Previous // Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #wyatt shaw #brynn franz #hnnnnng #lookit them.. telling the truth to each other n talking properly n shit #maybe they've been replaced by aliens 🤷‍♀️#there's so much to unpack here..#but i think the two most important things are that wyatt actually allowed some real gods honest emotion to come outta his mouth #for the first time in like forever..#and that even if we don't agree with brynn - past future or present - she should get the chance to decide her own fate for once #and he GETS it #;-;#this is why she cried on the mountain.. cos for the first time in forever she felt free #stood on top of the world like that she realised she's the captain.. n even if jumping off the ship is scary #maybe she'll find some land #u kno #maybe even a slightly reformed wyatt too ¯\(°_o)/¯#bwuhh #neway.. u asked for this essay so i hope u enjoyed it 😆

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starsandhughes · 2 years

Text

Bloody Faces, Bloody Hearts

request: “I would love to see trevor zegras prompt 30 if you want to write it”

prompt 30: “you’re hurt just let me help you”

parings: trevor zegras x reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

warnings: injuries, crying, underage drinking, kinda describing a panic attack, pain medication mention, angst to fluff, fighting, arguing

word count: 2.3k (i love writing angst) UNEDITED

(A/N i didn’t specify the team or other player bc i didn’t wanna slander anyone)

Your ever so lovely boyfriend, Trevor, was getting into a lot of fights as of late. But in the span of 5 days, he managed to not only have a physical fight on the ice, but also got into a huge argumentative fight with you.

You were sitting on the couch at Trevor and Jamie’s place trying to collect yourself. You and Trevor got into a screaming match over him going out and coming home late almost every day for two weeks and not making any time to spend with you. You didn’t care about practices, or him going on long roadies, hell you even came with on short ones when you could get out of work. Hockey isn’t, and never will be, the problem. The problem is that you went three days without seeing him other than when he got into bed next to you.

“I think I should go home.”

“What?” Trevor asked. “You are home, what do you mean ‘I think I should go home’?”

“I mean I think I should go home to Michigan for a few days. See my mom, maybe stop by UMich to see Luke. I think we need some time apart to cool down and you need to get your priorities straight.”

He had some words to say about that, but you weren’t listening. He was repeating that you’re his priority in various ways, and the more you packed the more desperate he got.

“So prove it Trevor!” you cried. “This isn’t a breakup. I am not breaking up with you. But maybe you’ll know how it feels to come home everyday without seeing the love of your life and realize you’ve been taking me for granted.”

Your voice got softer as you went on and you reached up with one hand to cup his cheek, “I love you, okay? Always. I just used two Fault in Our Stars terms so you know I mean it.” He laughed lightly at that and brought his hand up to where yours was to hold it.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I love you, too. I’ll see you later.”

It took you almost two days to reach UMich, but you thought having some “not really-but might as well be-little brother” time with Luke would do you some good. The Hughes family is how you and Trevor met, and they were more of your family thank your actual blood one.

‘Hello?’ Luke answered the phone.

“Lukey Moosey! Do you have plans tonight?”

‘No? Why, what’s up?’

“Your favorite person ever just booked a hotel right outside of campus and is stealing you for the night!”

You tried to say this with as much heart and excitement you could muster, but the youngest Hughes saw straight through you.

‘Something happened,’ he said, as more of a statement than a question. You sighed as your response. ‘Is it a “you’re wearing Quinn’s hoodie and we’re drinking” kind of something happened or a “disney movies and pout” kind of something happened?’

“I just drove two days to come home, what do you think?”

‘Don’t get tequila.’

“Jack scarred me too much for me to ever drink tequila again, don’t worry. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

You got a hotel for you and Luke to spend the night in because you didn’t want his teammates around when you just need some Luke time. Plus, you’d rather only be responsible for one teen underage drinking.

Luke nursed a beer while you drank a vodka margarita you made in the bathroom as you told him everything that has happened with you and Trevor.

Luke listened, and spoke as well, to help you sort out your priorities and issues with the situation, and did his little brother duties swimmingly.

You two sat up against the headboard of the hotel bed and put on a Spider-Man movie after you both caught up with everything non-Trevor related in your lives. You leaned your head against his shoulder and pulled your knees up to lay them near his chest.

“Thanks, Luke,” you said low.

He wrapped an arm around you, “any time, y/n/n.”

For the rest of your undisclosed amount of time in Michigan, you spent it at your parent’s house, with some time with your second set of parents mixed in.

The latter is where you were currently sitting on the couch watching the Pregame for the Ducks game. Yeah, you were in a fight with Trevor, but you were still going to root for him.

They had the lead in the middle of second period at 2-0. The other team was becoming more defensive in their playing, as well as more aggressive. And your boyfriend had a tendency to be on the other side of someone’s aggression.

There was a fight. Gloves dropped, punches thrown, blood on faces. And Trevor was not getting as many hits in as the other player.

Fights happen. This isn’t the first Trevor has been in and it certainly won’t be the last. But this one was different. This one was worse. This one was the most violent brawl you’ve ever seen in a hockey game.

Their fight moved down the ice closer to the goal. The other played punched Trevor in the face so hard that he flew back, slammed his head on the goal post, and crumbled to the ground, bending his ankle in an unnatural way.

You suddenly felt extremely hot. Your body felt as if it were burning, your brain was threatening to drop down through your throat and bring you to the ground with it. You stood up when the fight got bad, and your legs gave out when they said he was unconscious.

“Oh my god,” Ellen gasped. You didn’t know if it was in reference to you or Trevor.

“He- he’s…”

Ellen put her arm around you and hushed you softly, “They’ll take good care of him, it’ll be alright.”

You shook your head, “No. No, I should be there. I have to go.”

“Y/N, you’re not in the right mind to drive right now,” Ellen told you.

“I’m not driving. I’m taking the next flight out and I’ll pick up my car from the airport later, I need to be there now.”

Jim and Ellen insisted on driving you to the airport and keeping your car safe at their house. You took the last seat on the flight to Anaheim that took off in the next three hours, and that’s when you finally called Jamie. You got worried when he picked up and said nothing.

“Is it bad?” you whimpered.

‘It’s not great, but it could be worse,’ Jamie answered honestly.

“I have a flight in three hours. I don’t know how I’ll get to you at 3am, but I’m coming.”

‘I’ll see if Mason can pick you up.’

Your flight was agonizingly long, but the wait to board was even worse. Anxiety still flooded your body despite how much anxiety medication you took. Nothing would cure it until you saw Trevor.

Jamie texted you that they were back home from the hospital, because it was bad enough to warrant a trip instead of the PT’s taking care of it, so that was where the very tired Mason dropped you off.

You quickly thanked him and ran out with your suitcase clattering behind you. You carefully unlocked the door and found Jamie dozing off on the couch still fully dressed. You set your suitcase by the door and crept over to the sleeping boy.

“Jamie,” you whispered as you gently rocked him awake.

He inhaled a deep and slow breath when he stirred and blinked tiredly at you, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you breathed out a laugh. “What’s the damage?”

“Minor concussion, bruised rib, and a torn ligament in his ankle.”

You winced, “So not great.”

“No, not even close,” he responded, stretching out the ‘o’ sound in no.

You sat in silence for a moment. You knew Trevor was likely asleep, and he needed rest so you weren’t about to go wake him up.

“He asked about you,” Jamie said, looking down at the floor. “The concussion was causing some slight amnesia, and he didn’t remember that you left. I just kept telling him it was hard to get ahold of you and that you were coming. I don’t know what I would’ve done if the memory didn’t come back and you weren’t here.”

You pursed your lips together to refrain from making a choked cry.

“He’s been a mess, y/n. The first thing he did was check for Quinn’s sweatshirt, and he broke down when he saw that you took it.”

“Me leaving didn’t give him enough of a clue that it was serious?”

“I think it just… solidified it, you know? You bring it out when things are bad for you; when you just need a big brother. I think he would’ve gone after you if you went to Vancouver,” he joked.

You stayed silent. You weren’t going to apologize for sometimes needing your family.

“I shouldn’t have left,” was what you got out.

“Yes you should have. I was spending more time with you than he was. You had every right.”

That’s when you broke down in tears. No— tears isn’t the right term, these were wracked sobs coming out of you. Jamie wrapped you in his arms and shushed you as he rubbed your back.

“I need to wake him up for pain meds, and I’m sure he’ll be a lot more cooperative if you do it,” Jamie offered.

“Will you come with me?”

Jamie got up with you and placed a comforting hand on your back as you trekked down the hall to your and Trevor’s room. You carefully sat down on the edge of the bed next to his chest and rubbed your hand up and down his back to wake him up.

“Z,” you singsonged. “Z baby I need you to wake up.”

Trevor grumbled into his pillow and tried to turn over, but was stopped by a sharp pain from his bruised rib. You winced at his cry and helped ease him down on his back against the pile of pillows supporting him.

“Y/N…?” Trevor asked sleepily.

You nodded and combed your fingers through his hair. His cheek was heavily bruised and he had a cut with a butterfly stitch across his eyebrow. For how much the other guy was hitting him, you were surprised his entire face wasn’t purple.

“It’s time for you to take some more pain meds,” you said low.

“You’re here,” he gapped. His eyes were wide, and you couldn’t help but think he looked like Bambi.

“Of course I’m here,” you smiled softly, still petting his hair.

“But you left. I wasn’t- I wasn’t expec… expecting…”

“Easy there, Zegras. Don’t need you having a brain aneurysm over me being in our bedroom,” you tried to laugh.

“You’re here.”

“And you need pain-“

“You’re-“

“Z, we will talk about this but I need you to give me a moment. You need to take your pain medication.”

Trevor must’ve seen the desperate pleading in your eyes through the soft lamp light because he immediately stopped talking. He bit his lip and nodded at you. He put his arms behind him and tried to prop himself up so that he could swallow the pills, but he cried out and collapsed back down. When you reached to help him, he pushed your arms back and slowly shook his head.

“I can do it myself,” he grunted.

“You’re hurt. Just let me help you,” you said.

You two locked eyes for a moment before he nodded again. You heard the door click close, a signal that Jamie had left. You put a hand between his back shoulder blades to slowly lift him up, and helped you push himself back to sit against the headboard with minimal wincing. He quickly took the water and pills you handed him and scooted himself back down a little to be be halfway sitting up instead.

You started to stroke his hair again and he closed his eyes, breathing synced with your fingers combing up and down through his hair. You were silently crying and praying to every god imaginable that you didn’t make a sound, but this was to no avail.

“Oh, hey no,” Trevor rushed out. He cupped your cheek with one hand and linked his fingers together with yours with the other.

“You didn’t get up,” you squeaked out. “You went down, and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. My ears were ringing, my head was spinning, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’m okay,” he whispered, rubbing circles with his thumb across your cheek bone.

“My mind blacked out when they said you were unconscious. I was standing one second, and Ellen was putting a straw in my mouth to drink ice water the next. And I didn’t know anything until-“

Trevor pulled your face down to his level and slammed his lips onto yours to cut you off. When your lips parted, your foreheads were brought together, with Trevor whispering for you to breathe slow with him, thumb back to caressing your cheek.

“I wasn’t out for too long. Troy and Mason helped me off the ice, and Jimmy rushed over to the arena and rode with me to the hospital. Gibby drove Jimmy’s car to the hospital, and we took him home. Everything is okay,” he breathed out. His voice was soft, low, and steady— a wonderful combination to calm you down.

“I was so scared,” you whimpered.

“I know, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Come here,” he motioned for you to lay down next to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said.

“You can lay on my chest, it’s okay,” he assured.

You crawled into bed next to him and rested your head on his chest. Your hand came up to lay where you could feel his steady heart and you closed your eyes.

“I love you,” you told him.

“I love you, too.”

And with a kiss to the top of your head, you were out.

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jamie drysdale #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl players #anaheim ducks #trevor zegras angst

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qierxing · 2 years

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Hear me out, Yandere twst isekai au, during the masquerade event. Imagine the drama with RSA and Rollo when you add the whole yandere aspect- just a random thought I had while rereading it tho

oooh that's fun, although I will say I don't really read in depth with future event spoilers, but I do have a general gist of how the event went down from hearsay. that said most of this may not be accurate bc I haven't played the story lmao (speaking of RSA, I have a WIP in the works with yandere heartslabyul & chenya in the isekai au >:3c) tw/cw: twst spoilers from jpn server, immolation/arson, graphic descriptions

As much as you wanted to see the City of Flowers, you did not want to see the student council president of Noble Bell College.

For many reasons, of course. There is the fact that being magic less and also quite literally from another world has its implications, and you don't want to subject yourself to Rollo's piercing gaze when he learns of this. And...even if he was beloved by others, you cannot say the same. His backstory is tragic of course, but there's something in his eyes that make you squirm. As if you were a sinful criminal before a judge, awaiting your verdict.

It is for these reasons that you linger in the back of the group, hoping desperately his cold sharp jaded eyes will pass over you in introductions. You don't even gaze at him directly, opting to instead focus on the mobs behind him. And yet, for all your efforts, his gaze still focuses on your face when he speaks of formalities and activities the following days will have.

So you decide to stay out of his way as much as possible. Screw what Crowley told you, you were not going to be a part of another mess that was about to go down. Instead of showing up to the group sessions that was meant to promote friendly relations between NRC and NBA, you indulge Grim's bad habits and ditch to hang around the quaint city. The cafes around here are relaxing to be in, and it's too easy to lose yourself in the calm atmosphere of sipping coffee and nibbling on madelines. You're ordering a plate of macarons when someone sits at the table you and Grim have situated yourselves in.

Your heart drops when you stare at an irritated Rollo Flamme crossing his arms across from you.

"Care to explain why you haven't showed up to to our activities, Prefect?"

The others give you confused looks when you're dragged in by Rollo's firm hand on your wrist. No matter how much you tug, it doesn't budge and he has the nerve to sit you in your chair like a child. And instead of trying to keep a modicum of discretion, he sits in the very chair right next to you, separating you from Grim. It's very obvious that he looks distastefully down on your furry companion, although if it's because he's a mage or because he's right by your side at all times, is something you've yet to discern.

It escalates, somehow. Somehow. He's always one step away no matter what you try to do to shake him off, always claiming that you must remain under supervision to make sure you weren't off causing trouble--as if Grim wasn't always left to his own devices as soon as Rollo put a hand to your back and ushers you to the hallways.

The holy fire that sweeps the place is unbearably hot. Not only that, you're separated from the others, pressed against the raging pyromaniac. Some have said being burned alive is somewhat similar to being frozen to death. With the heat, numbness takes over first; then an itching that urges the body to tear at the skin, to get rid of the terrible sensation. You would say that it was worse than that. Burnt flesh has a very particular smell, after all. These flames, which Rollo claims to be the height of purification, was like a rash that no ointment could sooth, forever branded into the very cells of your body.

Before you could take your nails and claw them down your throat in desperation, the heat is gone, replacing your skin with a low, raw ache. When you open your eyes again, it's not fire that greets you but Chenya and Neige's worried faces. "What...the hell...took you so long..." is the last thing you can get out before you straight up faint into Chenya's arms.

When you wake up again, it's pandemonium. You can barely understand who is saying what and what is going on. RSA came to the rescue of NRC? Yes yes, you already knew this, can someone explain why you weren't in a hospital bed, but instead in a shiny canopy bed that looks too expensive to be lying in?!

"My, my, they awake! Callooh, callay!" You scream at Chenya's head suddenly popping into existence directly above you. He snickers as you try to swipe at his head as it bobs just out of your reach.

"You--! Don't do that!" His eyes twinkle with mischief as the rest of his body materializes, still hovering parallel to yours on the bed.

"I think you guys should let the young'un rest, instead of burbling all this info to them, y'know?" The cheshire cat grins widely at the disgruntled NRC students. They reluctantly acknowledge his statement, leaving you to an empty room.

Well, a mostly empty room.

Chenya's face turns serious as he floats closer to you. "You should know, prefect, that the priest lad is also here."

At your confused look, he shrugs, body starting to de-materialize. "He wouldn't leave, no matter what Riddle and his crew would threaten. It's up to you on what you wanna do."

His chuckles echo in the air as his head disappears.

"If you decide to see him, that is."

#asks #anon #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader

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sidekickjoey · 2 months

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Thoughts on S5E5 The Witches of Pennbrook, re: Jack and Eric's plot.

Disclaimer: It's a silly Halloween episode. Kids were hyped up on Halloween candy tuning in for some TGIF fun, and I 100% think that's why this episode has some iffy logic and writing at times. I'll give the pod that. However, beyond the silliness, I think this episode is MASSIVE for the friendship between Eric and Jack, as well as a big testament to Eric's character as a whole moving forward, and I really think Pod Meets World missed an opportunity to dive into both aspects here.

Here's why:

This episode plays out two important lessons. The first involves Eric, playing the role of a friend who has to decide what's more important: putting a friend's wellbeing first, or sacrificing that friend's wellbeing for the sake of their larger friendship. It's a pretty common dilemma for teens, but also I think anyone who's been friends with someone not in a great relationship can relate as well. You don't know if it's your place to step in or how they'd react, and you feel a lot of guilt because you want your friend to be happy but your immediate actions/feelings point to the contrary in their mind. Eric was really happy Jack found someone and also excited he wouldn't feel so left out anymore, but the second he realized that Millie was ill-intentioned, his good heart (that we've seen from S1-S4) told him to put Jack's wellbeing first. He was desperate to show Jack she was a threat and putting him in a bad situation so he could get out of it. His sadness when told to back off was that guilt/worry forming. It's a testament to Eric's character that he chose to not let the guilt/worry eat him alive and didn't blame Jack or act like he was being a jerk, instead going out to protect him regardless of outcome. It's also a testament to his character that he reacted so kindly about the situation when Jack came to his senses, acting like putting Jack first was a no-brainer in his mind instead of laying into Jack for his poor judgment. THAT is important -- albeit tied up in a more comical rather than emotional bow, but still important nonetheless, and something that pretty much sets the groundwork for their friendship moving forward.

The second scenario, Jack's, displays another pretty common situation/lesson. Jack shows how easily we take for granted when our friends look out for us, or how blind we can be to how much people truly care about us. Jack was so caught up in his relationship with Millie and his larger inability to fit in that he completely missed Eric being an incredible companion and friend right by his side. He threw himself into relentlessly protecting this one ounce of happiness that he thought he found because he was scared to let it go, and in doing so, he just cast aside his friend and went way-too-in way-too-fast. It isn't until he's in trouble and Eric looks out for him to save him that he notices what he has and how poorly he acted. This is a good lesson on why it's not good to let yourself fall into that trap, but also an example of how easily it is to get sucked into it. How we're human, it happens. It's also one of the first most prominent times we see Eric be Jack's moral compass, which is a theme that definitely continues into the later seasons and beyond that to Girl Meets World.

Even if you don't go into anything beyond friendship for the two, if you just examine their friendship for what it was here, I think this was a big episode for them. I wish these two lessons/themes hadn't been outshined by the silliness of Halloween for the Pod Meets World crew. They are a nod to the core of Boy Meets World that, contrary to belief, still runs through Season 5's tone shift.

#boy meets world #jeric #pod meets world #jack hunter #eric matthews #I had some thoughts sorry lol #the witches of pennbrook

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do-you-know-this-adhd-character · 4 months

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Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

SPECIFICALLY THE VERSION FROM DUCKTALES (2017)

Evidence below the cut!

There were two submissions for this one!

Submission 1: honestly i'm surprised dewey hasn't been submitted yet bc he's like. "classic adhd personality type". he's hyperactive, impulsive, easily distracted, and HATES being bored. the official character bio describes him as "quick to throw himself into dangerous situations without thinking" and in the pilot episode gets distracted mid-conversation ("stop! scrooge was trying to keep me out of trouble, but i was so caught up in- why is there a lamp on the floor?") what REALLY sealed the deal for this headcanon, however, was the rsd he displays, bc this kid desperately wants to be loved by everyone and is absolutely crushed when that doesn't happen. his dream world is a high school musical-type high school where he's the mascot and star (nightmare on killmotor street); he had a panic attack because he tried playing a heel in a wrestling match and the crowd kept booing him (rumble for ragnarok); and in one episode started crying bc he thought he disappointed his mom (raiders of the doomsday vault). (speaking of his mom, there's loosely enough evidence to point to her being adhd too, and you know what they say about it running in families.)

Submission 2:

i could go on for AGESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS about dewey and the adhd headcanon. i am going to write a bunch of stuff, but it probably won't turn out very well (i write worse when i'm passionate about something lmao) why i see him as adhd: he has EXTREME rejection sensetivity dysphoria, which to me is most apparent in the money tree and boxing episodes (which i have inconveniently forgotten the names of). he requires attention and love to feel fulfilled, and will go to great lengths to be praised. he hates failure and the idea of being a dissapointment, so he goes to great lengths to prove his worth. he tends to be stupidly stubborn, not backing out of something even if it would put him in serious danger. he's also very impulsive -- jumps into dangerous situations without thinking about the consequence, all that matters is that it's exciting! he's SUPER energetic, and a small detail i noticed is that he doesn't seem to fall asleep easily? he's very chatty, there's an entire episode where he gets involved in a gang of sky pirates because he really, really wanted to talk about a hat he found. a lot of his decisions are irrational or generally just based on strong emotions?? he's definetly more of a thinker than a feeler. ("stop assuming i know things, ok? baseline, assume i know NOTHING!") he exaggerates his emotions or the severity of situations a lot. very easily distracted (or at least pays attention to the wrong thing? like, when they're offered to test out godhood, when they're told they're going to do "god auditions", dewey seems to miss out the "god" part and just does a dance routine (his reaction to realising he messed up is too funny to me, and his dance was actually really good imo) he's constantly breaking into song, uses his name as a pun almost constantly, and has a catchphrase he uses regularly. it's his 'character trait' (i'm not entirely sure how this relates to adhd but like. it makes sense to me) WAY too curious for his own good. generally just really hyperactive? goofs off when it's not really appropriate. i feel like there has been moments where he's been shown stimming before. (ik huey has for sure i'm not totally certain about dewey tho) also he's voiced by BEN SCHWARTZ. that guy seems to want to voice adhd-hi characters that are represented with the colour blue. ICONIC anyways that's all for my silly rambling. dewey and huey are the ultimate adhd autism solidarity duo btw

#poll #noncanon adhd character #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dewey duck #dewey ducktales #ducktales dewey #very long evidence for this one #love it #sorry im still worn out from yesterday not much to put here #idk if people even read these tag rambles lol #i just did it on the first couple and now i Have To #you understand.

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nishithedevil · 10 months

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wow i didn't expect this to get so much attention so uh here's part 2 :D

Capital Prince and District Princess

Lucy Gray x gn capital reader

part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5

When I entered through the door, the sweet aroma of my grandma’s cooked dinner filled my senses. Returning home from the chilly outdoors and being greeted by the comforting and appetising aroma of delectable homemade food was an unparalleled joy.

Tigris greeted me at our door, helping me remove my coat. “How was your first day? Corio told me you both became mentors. How exciting! I want to hear all about it.” She said excitedly while placing my coat on the rack next to Corio’s.

"Yeah, we did," I began as we strolled toward the dining room table, with Corio and Grandma already seated, anticipating our arrival. "And I did something quite foolish, but it turns out to be quite significant”.

All eyes were on me, the anticipation evident, as we paused before commencing our meal. Taking a bite, relishing the flavors for a moment, I finally responded, “I went to greet my tribute, and you won’t believe how badly they treat them. And all because they are from a lower class! It’s ridiculous! They placed them in a zoo cage, treating them like animals, and callously laughed as if they were devoid of human feelings and emotions!”

I sit up and push my chair back, my hands coming down onto the table, still holding the fork in one. A gasp escapes Tigris’ lips, meanwhile Corio doesn’t even bat an eye, wiping his mouth gently with a napkin.

Tigris puts her hand on mine, a silent gesture to make me sit down again and continue eating.And I proceed to do just that, disheartened by the extent of cruelty even within my own family. Grandma on the other hand was most likely already been through enough to be used to this kind of behavior from the capital towards the districts. I reassure myself that it's for this very reason that she, along with Corio, remains silent, choosing to focus on her meal without uttering a word.

I make an effort to consume my meal swiftly, eager to escape the sombre atmosphere. As soon as I finish, I head down to my room, shutting the door behind me, no longer wishing to dwell in their melancholic mood.

Emerging from the shower, I see Tigris seated on my bed, patiently anticipating my return.

"Tigris, you startled me," I exclaim, making my way toward her while drying my hair with a towel. She gestures to the spot beside her on the bed, prompting me to join her. Without hesitation, I comply, leaving my towel on an empty chair beside my bed.

“I know how awful this all must seem Y/N, believe me I despise the hunger games as much as you do. But there’s nothing we can do except try to help your tribute win. I know Corio has no purpose in this, so I entrust it to you to ensure your person gets to live," she implores, and I can detect the desperation in her voice.

I gaze at her, contemplating how someone could emerge so sweet and caring in the midst of a harsh family like ours. Perhaps it's because she isn't related to my late father, a figure who scarcely deserves that title.

I grab her hands in mine and look at her before speaking, “Trust me Tigris, I’ve been wracking my brain for ideas on how to help her survive. But I need to get to know her more. Understanding her resilience gives me insight into the feasibility of her survival in this challenging situation.” I let out honestly, my heart aching at the thought of watching that sweet girl die in a savage murder.

Hearing her sigh, she nods and stands up. Giving my hands a squeeze before she turns to the door to leave me. She puts her hand on the door handle and turns her head around, “I’ll always support you, no matter what decision you make.” She says before finally leaving me with only my thoughts to keep me company.

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

The next day, our morning classes were the same. The same people, the same lectures, the same teachers, the same exercises, like there’s nothing wrong in the world. That made me almost gag at how normal these people view this kind of genocide.

At lunch I take more than I usually do, two of everything and a bit more. I sat down in a pretty blind spot, a table for only two people, next to a wall that people pass by without batting an eye on it. Opening my bag, I take out the other tiny one I packed with me just for this, and I put all the food in napkins and inside it. Thankfully, I was right, no one batted an eye at me.

As I put the food bag into my school bag, Sejanus comes opposite of me, a tray in hand, “Mind if I sit? I don’t know where Corio is”. I nod at him, gesturing with my hand for him to take the empty seat opposite me, and he gladly does, setting his tray down in front of him.

He began to eat, taking a few bites out of his selected food, then asked, “What did you do with the extra food you got?”. I look at him confused, how the hell did he notice that? Was he next to me? No, I know I managed to get in line between people who we have no mutual knowledge of. But then how…?

“I saw you before I got in line, and got curious as to why you were getting more food than one person could manage to eat in one sitting.” He shrugs, like it’s nothing, just his curiosity asking.

Before I could say anything, he continued, “It’s for your tribute, right? Lucy Gray was it? I saw you on television yesterday, and that stunt you pulled. You know, the only reason I’m a mentor is because my dad threw money at some people and managed to make me one. To my best friend. God, it’s so bad being capital. Everything is worse than I already thought they were.” He continues eating, but I see him leave a plate with a few sandwiches, which made me think if he’s going to do the same thing I’m doing. Then we continue eating in silence, without a word agreeing that we’re going to the cage together after.

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On our way there, Corio joined us, wanting to see his tribute face to face for the first time and see what he was dealing with, despite probably not caring much, in my opinion.

When we arrived, Sejanus hurried a bit further from us, yelling his friend’s name, then waving food at him through the bars. That made the situation look even worse, and it made me internally cringe. Meanwhile Corio only straightened himself and walked a bit to the side from me.

I shrugged and went straight to Lucy Gray, who saw me coming when I was only a few steps away from the cage, and got up from the uncomfortable rock she was sitting on. “So you did come back.” She smiles as I pull my bag forward and start unzipping it to give her the food.

She looked at me with a calm composure.

When she took the napkins, she turned to Jessup and called him over, “Here, take some.” she offered him, but he rejected her. Instead of giving up though, Lucy Gray pushed on, “Don’t pretend like we both didn’t hear your stomach growling earlier. Take it”. He obliged and took the food, then huffed and went back to his spot on the rock. Corio and I watched them intently.

“Hey, what happened to his neck?” Corio asks Lucy Gray when Jessup left. I turned to her, awaiting an answer too, to the bizarre mark behind his ear. “He got bit by a bat on the way here. He was trying to let me sleep. God, I just hope it doesn’t get infected.” she says, sympathy pouring out of her words.

She then fully opened the napkin revealing all the food I got. “This is quite a lot of food. How’d you manage?” she asked as she crouched down to eat. I crouched down with her. Taking a bite of her sandwich, I looked at her with a small smile and shrugged, “I have my ways.”

She hummed at that, and after another bite she remarked, “Quite the rebel, aren’t you?” and I laughed at that, “Oh yeah, I’m bad news, sweetheart.” to which she followed suit and laughed along. But then we hear a clunking sound and we turn around to see a classmate of mine playing with the thirst of her tribute. Keeping her water bottle a bit out of reach for him as she laughed.

“Y’know, one thing we learned in district 12 is that hunger is a weapon. Your friend over there knows it" she emphasises as she points with her finger at them, with the same hand that is holding her half eaten sandwich.

"She's not my friend,” I reply with a deadpan expression, “She’s just poison with perfect teeth.” I groan out.

I get closer to the cage, grabbing a hold of one of the bars, to which Lucy Gray also leans in. I whisper, “Are you going to be sharing everything I give you with Jessup?”

She leans away a little before answering me. “But why? To strengthen my abilities in that domain and overpower him? Not exactly my forte".

Corio apparently overheard our little conversation and leaned next to me, whispering to Lucy Gray a bit angrily, "Y/N likes you for some reason, and they might be able to actually help you, try making suggestions to the Gamemakers. The audience might start sending you gifts, food, water, to keep you going. You just have to sing for them".

"I don't sing when I'm told, I sing when I have something to say. And I've seen your arena, there's nowhere to hide" she bites back, and I’m impressed. I haven’t seen anyone stand up to Corio other than me and Tigris like this.

Corio just groans and starts distancing himself from the cage. I hear him whisper under his breath some vulgar insults, but I shrug them off since thankfully, Lucy Gray didn’t hear them as she continued eating the last bites of her sandwich

"They say you get more money if you get more people to watch, and you say you wanna help me, which is it?" She rubs her hands to get a few crumbs off and then looks up at me. “No no, I do want to help you, honest.” I reply, “Corio is the one who wants the money, I’m starting to get worried he might turn into our father and that won’t do anyone any good.”

When she finished the sandwich, she opened the other napkins to see what else I got. When she saw a few cookies, she offered me one. I lifted my hand about to decline her offer but she shook her head and made me take it. “I saw how you were looking at me when I was eating. It’s fine, take it.”

In a surge of confidence, I blurt out, “That’s not why I was looking at you, Lucy Gray.” But despite my efforts, a blush creeps on my neck making me suddenly very hot. Lucy Gray on the other hand, didn’t seem startled, like I expected, but a smirk did appear on her lips as she looked at me up and down and leaned in closer. I followed unconsciously.

We both take a bite of the cookie, and she commented out of the blue, “I always thought there was more than enough food at the capital.” That makes me chuckle and think back on my childhood. A particular story pops into my head which makes me smile a little, but that was enough to feed into Lucy Gray’s curiosity.

"Y'know, one time during the war I ate a whole jar of paste, just to stop the pain in my stomach" I finally say. She takes a bite of her cookie and hums, “An’ how was it?” Now I take a bite, thinking about it and then causally shrug, "Pasty." I reply, which makes her laugh again.

Her laugh is so contagious and such a beautiful sound, just like her voice. I could fall asleep to the sound of her laughing and it would feel like I was on cloud 9, drifting through heaven without worries nor problems.

I realise she isn’t looking at me anymore, but behind her, at a little girl sleeping on her partner’s shoulder, and when reality crashes down it’s the saddest image you can see. "So sweet and young,” Lucy Gray begins, “reminds me of my cousin Maude Ivory. I can't stand them thinking about me like this" she looks down at that comment with a saddened expression on her face. That made me even more disturbed by the situation.

"I'm sorry" I say, extending my hand to brush the one she’s holding the rest of the food with.

She sucks in a deep breath, probably something she didn’t intend on me hearing, yet I still did, and straightened herself. “You seem like a good person Y/N Y/L/N. Sure would've been nice to meet you under different circumstances" a ghost of a smile plays on her lips.

"At one of your shows maybe" I suggest.

"Yeah. Could've had a drink, danced with you, like we had all the time in the world.”

I blush at her imagination, for a possibility that could’ve probably never happened. I dare look at her face, and see that she has that same adorable expression from earlier – her lower lip stuck between her teeth, her mind stuck inside her thoughts.

Though our weird moment of clarity was cut short, again, by a scream. The tribute, previously being teased by his mentor, took my classmate by her shirt, pinned her against the bars and took her bottle away from her hands. But it didn’t stop there. He smashed the bottle against a bar and stabbed the girl in the throat with the bottle neck before letting her drop to the ground.

We were taken aback while everyone around us screamed. I saw Corio running to the girl on the ground, maybe trying to save her. In panic I turn to Lucy Gray and take her hand in mine. She looks down at them, then up at me and back at the scene that just unfolded. At that moment the peacekeepers start shooting and I instinctively stand in front of Lucy Gray. Why I did that for someone I’m not close to, I still don’t know, but it felt right.

When the peacekeepers stopped shooting, they went over to take Corio away, kicking and screaming for someone to save her. But despite it all, his cries for help fell on deaf ears. I squeezed her hand before letting go, and making eye contact with Sejanus from the other side of the body. We both slowly stepped towards it, freaked out at the whole situation and at the absolute mess and absurdity this thing is turning out to be.

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