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#this is a mess of tags thanks if u read through all of it? i guess?
butchshepherd · 1 year
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I've been thinking to myself hey I maybe I should email this breeder, just bring up our potential interest in a future puppy and also I guess ask if they think their dogs could have the potential for assistance work, but first of all I might as well have never written an email in my life bc I have no idea how to go about this!!! And second of all, especially for the latter but I could always leave that out for the first time lol, if they answer negatively in some way I would likely not recover (I am not a well adjusted individual and rsd is a lovely little thing). I know myself well enough to know I would find it very discouraging and the embarrassment would probably also make it harder to contact them in the future 🥲
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sovaharbor · 2 years
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tbh all i want to write is a fic where all the x-men student classes sit in a circle and talk about their traumas
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soullumii · 10 months
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it's a risk but babe, i need the thrill | joel miller x f!reader
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part 1, part 2
summary: everything finally comes to a head
warnings: 18+!!! smut! unprotected piv, gentle smut
tags: angst, reconciliation, fluff, pining, smut (but it's light compared to the other two parts), halloween vibes (i was supposed to finish this in october, oops)
word count: 5.8k
a/n: guys. i am SO SORRY for the wait. this was so hard for me to finish i almost gave up so many times. i'm still unhappy with this but i can't make myself work on it anymore so here u go. thank you all so much for your patience, i really appreciate it. special thank you to @joelsfaveouritegirl for your support... i probably would've never finished this if it weren't for you, so thank you. <3. and thanks to all of you who kept me accountable. i hope you enjoy this fucking mess. also, this is probably the last joel fic i'll write for a while. i'm sorry. still, i hope you like this.
______________________________________________________________
There are only two seasons in Jackson, Wyoming: winter and not winter.
Where other states might have a gradual shift from warm to cold, in Wyoming, it’s like a slap to the face, quite literally. The moment you step into the evening October air, it feels as if you’ve walked into a wall of cold. 
You shiver in your thick coat, and pull your scarf over your frosty nose as you meander down to the plaza.
While Jackson residents enjoy their time indoors and close to the fireplace during the colder months, they still love to celebrate outdoors, relying on their booze to keep them warm.
You don’t stop by Joel’s for a drink this time, he’s likely already in town square, dragged there by his daughter. Or… sort of daughter. He’s told you how he feels about Ellie, but the girl has her own opinions. Sure, she might deny that he’s like her dad, but she sure as hell treats him like he is. 
You’re meeting them there. 
The stars are already twinkling in the sky when you reach the throng of people. All of Jackson’s residents are in the plaza tonight for Halloween, dressed in homemade costumes and ones raided from the Party City in Idaho Falls. Jack-o-lanterns glow menacingly in corners and scarecrows are propped against brick walls. A few people in particularly frightening costumes prowl about, startling kids and adults alike.
Stalls line the edges of the plaza, each one providing something different. Tipsy Bison’s stall is run by Tommy, serving alcohol for the adults of the town. Seth’s stall is serving pork and brisket sandwiches. There’s a few stalls down the road advertising pumpkins and pastries, and you get a whiff of apple cider. Barrels of fire are scattered about to provide warmth. Lights are strung from the roofs of buildings, spread across the road, like clothes on a clothesline. 
It’s incredibly cozy, and already, you feel much warmer than you did walking out of your house. 
Within moments of passing Seth’s stall you hear Ellie’s voice ring out. 
“She's here!”
You can’t see her weaving through the crowd but you can see Joel trailing behind, his arm trapped in front of him. He politely excuses himself and apologizes to those he bumps into as his daughter drags him through a crowd of people. 
You can’t help but laugh, especially when you hear him say, “Jesus, kid, slow down.” 
And then she’s in front of you, smiling and bouncing excitedly on her heels, dressed as one of the superheroes from the comics she reads. Joel is behind her wearing a black blindfold with the eyes cut out, and a felt superhero crest is stitched to the front of his black sweater. He looks very adorable. Clearly, Ellie forced him to dress up. His gaze catches yours, full of something you can’t quite grasp, a small, embarrassed smile on his lips.
“Hi,” he says, voice soft.
“Hi,” you repeat.
It’s been… well… you’re not quite sure how to describe how it’s been since you told him to stop kissing you. 
It’s not like you guys have stopped seeing each other since then. Or that it’s been more awkward or anything. It just feels as if you’ve been depriving your body of what it needs, like you’re actively starving yourself. 
You’d feel full while he was fucking you, and yet there was a hole in your chest, gnawing at your thoughts, a hunger so deep rooted that it’s been taking you longer to come. 
Joel had noticed, too. Noticed your struggle and your frustration. He took it as something he was doing wrong, even though you insisted that wasn’t the case. Still, he took his time with you, trying to meet all your needs, and that, funnily enough, just made you feel worse. 
Your meetings have grown fewer. Sometimes you would go a couple weeks without seeing each other—at least like that.  Funny, how before you were so upset when he hadn’t been with you for a while. And now… now the distance is needed.
You still went out to dinner with him and Tommy and Maria. You still stopped by to say hi to Ellie and ask Joel how he’s been. Things have been normal, besides the overwhelming feeling of longing that strikes your breast the moment you see him. 
You worry that it shows on your face, especially because of the dreams you’ve been having, like some lovesick teenager. Dreams that don’t involve just having sex. Dreams that frame the two of you as lovers, as parents as… growing old together. 
Sometimes you’ll wake up crying, wondering if maybe you should just stop seeing him, talking to him, being around him all together. But then you’ll see him in town, or on patrols, and you know you’d never be able to stay away.
You swallow down the lump in your throat, and turn your attention to Ellie. 
“Hey kiddo!” You greet, plastering a smile on. She doesn’t seem to notice your being off. 
“You’re not dressed up,” she remarks, arms crossing over her chest. 
“Um. Yes I am,” you gesture to your black sweater and black pants. “I’m a black cat.” 
“You don’t even have ears or whiskers and a nose. That's a terrible costume.” 
Joel squeezes her shoulder with a frown. “Hey, quit.”
“No, she’s fine. She’s right,” you sigh. “This was super last minute.” 
“Cat is doing face painting down by the haunted house. You should let her paint some whiskers on you.” 
You take a glance at Joel and he shrugs. God he looks ridiculous in that costume. Your heart constricts. You might as well be as ridiculous as him. 
“That sounds great,” you say. Ellie looks like she’s about to drag you there when Dina comes running around the corner, practically slamming into her. 
“Hey!” Ellie laughs, “Slow down.” 
“You have to come with me. We’re going to do the haunted house, Jesse is already waiting for us. Come on,” Dina says, and pulls Ellie away before you and Joel can say a thing. 
The two of you stand there for a moment, watching the kids with fond smiles before finally looking at each other. 
His gaze seems to soften impossibly more when it lands on you.
“Your costume is kinda lame,” he says after a moment. 
“Oh shut up.”
**
The paintbrush glides smoothly over your skin as Cat paints the tip of your nose black and whiskers on your cheeks. You keep sneaking glances at Joel who waits patiently for your face painting session to finish.
Once you’re done you stride over to him, grinning.
“Well?” You prompt, turning around and showing off your newly improved costume. “Not so lame anymore, huh?”
He chuckles, eyes roaming your figure. Heat simmers low in your belly at the glint in his dark eyes. “Much better.”
He pauses, eyes catching on your face. “Hey, wait.” He grabs your hand and pulls you in close. He’s warm, a nice contrast to the cool October air. You want to just snuggle up to him, wriggle your fingers up under his sweater to share his warmth.
“You got a little somethin’…” he trails off, hand coming up to press his thumb to your skin. He gently wipes off a stray black smudge from beneath your eye. It takes no less than five seconds, yet it feels like an eternity. Your chest presses into his, his hand is warm as it cups your cheek. His breath puffs against your lips, an almost kiss. And his eyes, focused so dearly on the smudge, slowly drift up to lock with yours. 
“Perfect,” he mumbles, gaze never straying from yours. His hand never leaves your cheek, his thumb brushing carefully below your eye once more, a soft, subconscious caress now.
“Thanks,” you breathe.
Time feels like it’s stopped. 
A kid rushes by with a delighted scream as another kid in a costume chases after him. You and Joel jolt apart, snapped back into motion.
He clears his throat and you swallow hard.
“You want somethin’ to drink?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
***
Tommy is beaming with his own little flush of alcohol when you and Joel come across his stall.
Maria hangs by his side, but her eyes follow every action happening around you. Ever the diligent leader.
“Howdy,” Tommy says, and Maria takes the time to glance over at the two of you with a welcoming smile.
“Hey,” Joel says, and you nod your head in greeting.
“You guys lookin’ for a drink?” Tommy asks. “We’ve got spiked apple cider.”
You bounce excitedly on your toes at that. Joel laughs lightly at the way your expression brightens. “We’ll take two.”
“Comin’ right up.”
“You’ve done a great job planning for this, Maria. Everything looks amazing,” you say.
She turns to you, and to your surprise, she looks a bit bashful. “Thanks. Everyone on the council helped a lot. I’m glad we can provide something fun like this.”
“The kids really need it.”
“I think the adults do, too. It’s nice to be able to scream without it being true fear.”
“Amen to that,” Tommy pipes up and sets two mugs of steaming spiked apple cider down. 
“Thanks, Tommy,” Joel says, and hands you a mug.
“There’s a haunted house down the road, you guys should go check it out. Laney and Paul spent a long time on it,” Maria says.
“We will, thanks. See you guys around!”
You wave goodbye to them and make your way through the plaza. Joel’s hand finds the small of your back, warm and steady. You’re glad for it, as scarers prowl along the streets, jumping out randomly and thrusting their hands in your face.
The haunted house lingers at the edge of the road like a ghost. Party City decorations blot the yard: gravestones, plastic skeletons, witches with rotted cloaks. It’s like everything they could manage to carry was dumped here. 
A line curves outside the door, kids bouncing on their feet as they await their turns. You feel a little ridiculous joining them, being your age, but Joel probably feels even more ridiculous so you push the thought from your mind.
“I’m actually kind of nervous,” you tell him as screams ring out from within the house.
“This thing ain’t nearly as terrifyin’ as the real world,” Joel says.
“Yeah, but still. I’ve never been a fan of being scared.” 
Joel takes a sip of his spiked apple cider and shrugs. “I’ll protect ya.”
“My hero,” you coo and run your hand over the superhero crest stitched to his chest. He smiles. 
Soon enough you’re at the door. 
“You go first,” you tell Joel, and shove him in front of you, but you don’t let go of him.
"Good to know you're not afraid to throw me to the wolves."
"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."
He rolls his eyes but lets you fist one of your hands in his sweater and hold onto his arm with the other. You peer around him as the two of you venture inside. 
A radio plays spooky sounds from all directions as you trail behind Joel through the house. Your eyes flit across every crevice, searching for who is going to scare you. Still, you don’t notice everything.
From seemingly nowhere, someone pops out in a Michael Meyers mask with a fake knife. You screech and hold tight to Joel. He hardly even flinches.
“How are you so chill?” you ask with a pout once you’ve recovered. Red lights flash in the hallway. Your voice is shaking. God, you’re a wimp.
“Because I’ve got someone I need to protect. I can’t act all scared, now, can I?”
You roll your eyes, knowing he’s just making shit up. He’s not scared at all.
You get closer and closer to him as the house progresses. Your hands are now interlinked, your cheek pressed against the warm muscle of his shoulder blades. You’re practically on top of him, trying to stay as close as possible. 
Even with Joel acting so nonchalant, you’re scared. You get jump scared a few more times as you continue, thankful that your hands are preoccupied with holding onto Joel else you might’ve punched one of the scarers.
Eventually you make it to the end in one piece, your heart racing. You know it’s ridiculous—Ellie probably got through this with a straight face. Still, it’s kind of fun, being scared. You’re giggling into Joel’s sweater by the end of it, and he’s tucked you into his side, hand still interlocked with yours as you meander back to the plaza.
Warmth blossoms in your chest. Is this what it would be like if you were truly together? You feel the urge to push up on your toes to kiss him, but you shove it down. Guilt tugs at the back of your mind at the thought. 
“You’re such a scaredy cat, I guess that costume is fittin’,” he muses, rubbing warmth into your waist.
“Sorry we can’t all be macho men like you."
You go to pull away, to create some distance. You can’t keep getting close to him like this. It weighs too heavily on your heart. But Joel squeezes your hand and tugs you back into his side, and you’re so very weak. You melt into him despite yourself.
“I think you rather like my macho-ness,” he says.
Heat pools in your belly at the smirk on his face, the darkness in his eyes. You avert your gaze with a small smile, warmth coloring your cheeks. “Yeah right.”
He turns toward you, towering over you. His hand splays heavily on your hip, and you shudder. “Playin’ coy now, huh? Where was this yesterday when—“
“Joel!” Ellie screeches, skidding to a stop in front of the two of you. You feel the urge to jerk away, but Joel only shifts so that he’s no longer in your face. He still keeps you close. 
“What’s up kiddo?” 
“There’s a campfire, everyone’s asking us to play a song.” 
That piques your interest. Joel has played guitar for you a couple times, though he’s always very shy about it. You’ve stumbled across him playing on his own with no one to watch. It’s fascinating what the music does to him.
It’s like he’s transported somewhere else, his eyes closed as his fingers pluck the strings of his guitar, his foot tapping to the beat, his head nodding along as his hands tell a story through the notes. 
You’ve never seen him play a whole song like that, he’s always noticed you before he could ever finish. And when you’d ask him to keep playing, there was a bit of stiltedness. You realized it was nervousness… he wanted you to be impressed, to like what he was doing. 
You’re not sure how you ever could dislike his playing. 
“You should do it,” you say. 
Joel’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “I dunno—“
“What, you’re not scared, are you?” you tease.
“Don't talk to me about being scared. Pretty sure you stretched out my sweater with how hard you were holding onto me,” he counters. 
“Will you two stop bickering like a married couple? Joel, they’re waiting. Come on!” Ellie says and grabs his hand, tugging him along. You laugh as you follow, though her little comment sticks in your mind. 
***
Joel settles down on a log with his guitar in his lap. Ellie sits at his side. You got a spot a couple logs away, so you could get a good view of them. The campfire lights his silver hair copper, reflecting like stars off the wood of his guitar. 
“Any fans of Bread here?” he asks, and a few hoots and hollers sound out. Joel laughs at that, and Ellie rolls her eyes. You've never heard of the band, but you wait with bated breath. They tune their guitars, and then Joel takes a deep breath and counts down. 
One, two, three, four…
Soft strumming fills the air. Ellie keeps the main melody, but Joel plucks more of the details. He sings first.
Baby I’m-a want you
Baby I’m-a need you
You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about
His voice is smooth, a bit shaky from the nerves, but it washes over you like a warm wave of water. Immediately, you’re drawn in. It’s unrealistic, but you still think that Joel could save the world with his voice. It’s scratchy but soft, if one can be both of those things at the same time.
He looks up through his lashes, his gaze catching yours.
Maybe I’m-a crazy, but I just can’t live without
your lovin’ and affection… givin’ me direction
Like a guiding light to help me through my darkest hours
Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be-a stayin’
Beside me…
Your breath catches in your throat while he sings.
It’s just a song, you tell yourself. But the way he’s looking at you… it’s as if everyone else has disappeared. As if the words were created specifically for you. As if… as if maybe he chose this song for a reason…
Ellie picks up the prechorus with her angelic voice, and you’re brought back into the present. But then Joel starts the solo, his eyelids fluttering shut as the music takes over him. His head nods along to notes as he plucks each one out with precision and skill. His foot taps in time with the beat, and people cheer, but you can’t stop staring. 
The solo ends all too soon, but Joel’s voice merges beautifully with Ellie’s harmonies back on the prechorus once more. 
Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be a stayin’
Beside me…
Used to be my life was just emotions passin’ by. 
Then you came along and made me laugh and made me cry
He gives you a small grin, secret, for no one else but you.
You taught me why…
Baby I’m-a want you. 
Baby I’m-a need you. 
Oh, it took so long to find you baby
Baby I’m-a want you.
Baby I’m-a need you.
Your chest constricts at the sight of him, at the sound of the last few notes being plucked expertly by his fingers. At the blend of his voice with Ellie’s. You can't bear to sit here at this campfire, watching him only as a friend, a fellow neighbor, just like everyone else. You want him to sing this song for you. To know that it’s only you he’s thinking of as the last few strings are plucked by his nimble fingers, ringing out into the dark, cold night. That it’s only you he sees clapping and cheering him on. But you can’t even grant him that, already on your feet the moment the song ends, practically sprinting away from the campfire as your throat grows tight and tears spring to your eyes.
You hope no one has noticed. You hope the footsteps you can hear crunching on crimson leaves are just someone walking past. Of course they’re not though.
“Are you okay?” the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice asks.
God, no! Why! 
You frantically wipe the tears from your eyes, sniffling snot so it doesn’t drip down your lip and betray you. 
“Oh,” you start, and internally curse the way your voice shakes. You turn toward the one who has been unraveling you at the seams with a trembling smile. “Hi, Joel.”
“Christ, what’s wrong, baby?”
“Don’t—don’t call me baby,” you say, and it’s not at all what you mean to say. You mean to just reassure, to just brush this off and bury it deep inside and never let it out. But you don’t. 
Joel’s face hardens, and he steps in closer with a hand stretched out but at the look on your face, thinks better of touching you.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says. “Why are you crying? What happened?”
Nothing. It was just a pretty song.
Was it for me?
Nothing. I’m just being hormonal.
Do those lyrics mean something to you?
Nothing. 
Enough. Enough with the excuses and the rules and the lies. 
“You happened,” you spit. 
He takes a surprised step back. “What?”
“You and your stupid fucking—your stupid fucking friends with benefits and your stupid fucking big heart and your stupid fucking guitar happened, Joel.”
This is probably the first time you’ve ever rendered Joel speechless outside of sex. He looks so stupid standing there staring at you with his wide eyes and his dropped jaw. And yet all you want to do his pull him in and hug him and tell him how much you love his stupid fucking face. Instead, you take a step back. 
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You’re freezin’. Let’s head back to my place, we can talk about it there—“
“No. No. I won’t let you just fuck me and then pretend like whatever’s between us doesn’t exist.”
“That’s not—“ he starts, but then must register what you said because his brows furrow over his ice cold gaze. “Me? I pretend like it doesn’t exist?” 
“Yes!”
“No I don’t. You’re the one that told me you didn’t want me to kiss you anymore. You’re the one that’s been keepin’ me at arm's length all this time. You’re the one pretending.”
You go to yell back at him, to deny, but the realization that he’s right kills the words in your throat, and you fall silent. 
Joel steps closer, his voice dropping. “You can act like I’m the one that’s been torturing you as much as you like, but it just ain’t true.” 
His eyes flit across your face wildly, taking in the tears in your eyes, the tremble of your lips, the tint of your cheeks from the cold. He softens.
“Darlin' I... I have been in love with you since the first time I heard you laugh. Since the first time you even glanced my way. Every god damn day is torture wanting all of you when all I can have is some of you.”
You can’t speak, can hardly even breathe. 
“If you don’t want to make this anythin’ other than sex, just tell me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. His breath condenses into steam in the cold air. “Tell me you want to keep pretending, and we can keep pretending."
“I…I don’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”
His nose brushes yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Tell me you don’t want more.”
You swallow harshly. “I want more.” 
“Tell me you’re sorry you made me stop kissing you.”
“Please, kiss me, Joel.”
“You’re not very good at followin’ directions, are you?” he says, grinning, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss when he pulls you in.
His lips are soft, deliberate when they meet yours. He coaxes you open, makes you slow down, pulls you into it so you feel it entirely. Reminds you of what you were missing when you forbade him from kissing you. 
God, you missed it so much. Missed him. 
Joel’s arms wind around your waist, his hands sliding along the fabric of your coat, and it’s so cold but god you wish you had less layers on right now. You’re sure the warmth of his hands could keep you from hypothermia. 
“I’m sorry I forbade you from kissing me,” you say. 
He hums, “I guess I can forgive you. Might need some convincing.”
“Oh shut up,” you grin, and pull him back in again. 
“I hate pretending like I don’t love you,” he murmurs against your lips, hands gripping your waist.
“You… really love me?”
“Did you not hear my speech earlier?” 
“I did. I just… can’t really believe it.”
He pulls you in close and gently grasps your jaw with his large hands. He kisses you again, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. 
His lips find the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he says. 
A kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”
A kiss to your eyelid. “I love you.” 
When he pulls back, he’s smiling again. It’s strange to see Joel smile. He really doesn’t do it often around anyone. But you guess you’re an exception.
All that time you had spent pushing him away, agonizing over how much you loved him, fearing that he’d leave you if you so much had hinted that you were in love with him, only for him to be in love with you all this time? Holy shit. The world feels like it’s turned upside down. 
“Okay, I think I believe you now,” you say in a laugh. 
“You haven’t said it back, which I guess is alright—“
“I love you too, Joel,” you interrupt. 
He softens again. “I love you,” he murmurs, and pulls you in again for another toe curling kiss. God, you were an idiot for making him stop.
He wipes the tears from your eyes with a calloused thumb. “Your face paint is smudgin’.” 
“It was a stupid costume anyway.”
“No, it's cute. But…” Joel glances about, lips quirking in a smirk. He leans down, and his voice is so low you almost don’t hear it. “I think it would look better on my floor.”
“Well…” you fight the grin on your face, delighting in the heat curling low within you. “I guess since you love me and we’re kissing again and aren’t exactly friends anymore… we could really put that statement to the test.” 
“I think we should,” he says, and leans down to kiss your neck. 
You hum in approval. “What about Ellie?”
“She had plans to go to Dina’s after the festival,” he says, between kisses. “Come over, please? Or do I need to send you a letter with a wax stamp and everythin’?”
“Well… since you said please, I guess that will do.”
The whole walk to his place he has his arm slung about your waist, proudly displaying that you’re his. 
You nuzzle yourself into his side, grateful for his warmth and companionship. Your heart feels so full, so light, as if you might actually drift up into the air. Thank god Joel is holding you to keep you grounded. 
You smile at Maria and Tommy when you pass by them, and they exchange a look that says something like Finally. 
Then you’re at his house, and he’s unlocking the door and letting you go in first. And this time when you’re welcomed inside, you’re no longer worrying about rules or how you feel, or how you might fuck this up. It’s so fucking freeing. 
Joel doesn’t ravish you the moment the door closes. Instead, he kind of just stares at you. 
You squirm under his attention, growing self conscious. “What?”
He smiles, hands gravitating to your hips. “Nothin’. I just love you.” 
You grin. “I love you too.” 
He kisses you again, and you don’t think you could ever get enough of it. You kisses you roughly against the door, hips colliding with yours, over and over, and soon enough you’re shaking with want. Mind muddled, whispering a single word into his ear, “Bedroom.” 
It feels different here this time. All those times in the past had felt restrained, now, everything feels exactly as it should. 
When before you used to strip down quickly just to get him inside you, this time, you both take your time. He carefully unwraps you like a present as he noses kisses down your throat. He peels your thick black sweater off, and slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders, his dark eyes locked with yours. Joel reaches behind you and undoes the clasp with ease. You can hardly hold back your shaky sigh. 
Your hands smooth over his sweater-clad chest before pulling it up and over his head. That jagged scar is there on his stomach, a reminder of everything he’s been through. You run your hand along it, and he shudders. 
“Sit down,” he says. 
You sit on the edge of the bed, and he kneels before you. Then, he grabs your boot-clad foot and sets it on his thigh. He undoes the laces and carefully takes the boot off. He does the other, and then hooks his fingers around your waistband and pulls it and your panties off together. 
“I was right,” he says. “It really does look better on my floor.” 
“You’re ridiculous,” you say, and pull him back into you. His lips catch yours gently, but the kiss intensifies when your mouth parts eagerly as his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips. His tongue slips in, and a moan tumbles out of you as your hands scrabble at his shoulder blades, your nails lightly scratching over thin scars.
His nose squishes against your cheek, and his large, hot hands slide up and down your body, like he just can’t keep them still. Like he wants to catalog all of you right now, remember it forever. 
He rocks against you, still confined in his jeans, but you can feel the hard shape of him brushing against your sensitive core, the friction incredibly delicious. Your hands find his button and zipper, undoing them both with as much concentration as you can muster, though it’s really difficult when he’s kissing you like you contain all of the world’s oxygen. 
Finally, he allows you to breathe, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin of your throat as he mouths hot kisses down your skin. He grips one of your thighs, setting it against his hip, large, rough fingers splaying across the whole of it. God, you love how easily you fit in his palms.
He grinds his hips into you over and over and you moan, aching for the feel of him inside you. You tug at his waistband again. “Joel, please take these off already.” 
“Not yet,” he says, and releases your leg, his hand skating across the skin of your thigh, brushing gently along, making you shudder in his hold. You can feel the warmth of his fingers as he nears where you want him most. 
And then, his fingers are on you, swirling in gentle circles, unraveling you at the seams. Your head hits the mattress and your back arches. He knows exactly what to do to make you putty in his hands, has had so much time to practice. But this time, it feels so much better, knowing now that he loves you. That you’re more than just friends. 
Your palms find his face and you pull him in for a slow, meaningful kiss, trying to tell him just how thankful you are for him. How glad you are that he loves you. How sorry you are for not letting him kiss you. It’s kind of hard to kiss him, though, when he’s making you feel this good. Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging at it, and he moans into your mouth. 
He slips one, two fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace that has your hands gripping his hair tightly and your hips scrabbling for that pleasant release dangling in front of you. He urges you on with encouraging, quiet words, his dark eyes boring into yours. Your mind, body, and soul feel hot.
When his thumb finds your clit it’s only moments until you’re shattering against him, warmth flooding your body. Your hips jerk, your legs shaking as he takes you over the edge. 
“Pants off. Now,” you huff between breaths, and he finally listens. 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
Then, he shifts you up the bed… it reminds you of the first time the two of you had sex again after he was so busy. So much the same yet so different. His hand moves up your body, cups one of your breasts, kneading it gently. When his thumb ghosts over your nipple, you shiver. 
“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” he murmurs, and grasps your knee, pulling it over his hip. 
And then he’s sliding in, and the stretch is blissful, so welcome, so familiar and yet so new. You hold onto him, keeping him close as he begins to move. You feel full, mind faraway with bliss.
“God, Joel-“ you hiss. 
He groans out your name, and it rumbles through you like rolling thunder. Lightning lights a fuse at the end of your spine. 
You’re out of control. He tends to do that to you. Make you angry, make you sad, draw all the emotions you tend to not want to deal with out of you. Frustrates you, makes you so hungry with want that you throw all semblance of rational thought away. And he likes it. You like it. 
God, you love him so much. 
You move together as one, pushing and pulling. Everything shrinks down to just this. Him. You. Where your bodies meet. 
“More,” you moan, and he huffs out a laugh, but obliges, thrusting into you deeper, harder, and you’re as tight as a bowstring. 
Every anxious thought, every worry, every single doubt dissipates with every movement of his hips. You shift your own to meet his thrusts, and soon he’s gasping into your skin, growling your name. His hand winds into your hair, and he breathes with you, eyes locked with yours. 
“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me.” 
Well, who are you to deny him? He pushes you over the edge in an instant, your body going taught, eyes rolling back into your head. His name flows out of you like a mantra.
Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. 
“I love you,” he says into your throat when he follows you, hips jerking with sloppy thrusts as he comes inside you. 
Joel collapses next to you, pulling you into him, his arm slung heavily across your waist. When you can finally catch your breath, you say, “I love you, too.”
His grin is sated, eyes heavy when he pulls you in for another deep kiss. “We’ve said that a lot, huh?”
“Just making up for lost time. I think it’s alright.” 
“I should’ve said it a lot sooner,” he says, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 
“Me too. Telling you not to kiss me was really dumb.” 
“Probably not the smartest thing you’ve said.” 
You scoff in mock offense, pushing at his shoulder. “Asshole.” 
“Yeah, but you love me.”
You roll your eyes, but scoot further into him, laying your head on his chest. 
It might have been a risk to fall in love with your best friend, but God, you’re glad you did. 
“Yeah, I really do.”
404 notes · View notes
lionhanie · 3 months
Text
han taesan ; back 2 u (part four)
you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime
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this is part four of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!
fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au
...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3
word count: 11.1k (EXTRA special ty to my beloved @serejae for beta reading for me T_T)
warnings:  ANGST,,,, cursing, one kms joke, gongfourz fboy activities, woonhak is a little lost, alcohol/weed usage (reader smokes and drinks one (1) single beer), shotgunning (smoke), insecurity + overthinking, toxic relationship behaviors, mentions of other idols as side characters :P (newjeans minji, gidle minnie, enha heeseung, zb1 matthew)
a/n: apologies for disappearing off the face of the earth .... but wanted to mention that i joined @onedoornet !!! ^_^ plsplspls go support and check out everyone else in this lovely network hueheuhe <3
reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!
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A mess consisting of scrap paper, pens, and various scribbled notes from the lecture was currently occupying the entire span of your desk. You were supposed to be studying for an exam you had in a couple days, but you were currently sprawled out in the comfort of your bed as you scrolled mindlessly through Twitter. 
[Instagram] the_myungjaeee sent a post by kminji04! the_myungjaeee: LOL look at woonhak dancing in the 3rd slide
Opening Instagram, you’re faced with what looks like a photo dump from a girl who goes to your university. It was recently posted, the caption reading “late night finds”. Swiping to see the video Jaehyun was referring to, you cover your mouth to stifle your laughter at seeing one of your best friends dancing horribly in a parking lot, laughter coming from the background of the clip. 
Out of habit, you find yourself scrolling through the rest of the post’s contents, finding various pictures of what you assume to be the girl’s friend group, neatly-arranged drinks in a cafe, pretty skies from places you recognize around campus. You don’t think much of the post until a particular picture catches your eye. 
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To anyone else, it just looked like your typical soft-launch type post. There was no account tagged, but you’ve seen enough of the relationship-esque genre of pictures to recognize them when you see one. A set of masculine hands doodling hearts on the condensation of the driver’s seat window. The quality of the photo isn’t great, clearly being taken late at night, but the head that’s half cropped out of the photo is one you recognize all too well. The bleached blonde streaks towards the nape of the man’s neck confirms the suspicion brewing in your gut: It’s Taesan. You don’t really want to think too hard about why the inside of the car is fogging up the windows like that, or why it’s a heart he’s drawing, out of all things, because you know it’ll only hurt your feelings even more. 
Curiosity gets the best of you as you tap on the user who posted the image. kminji04. Kim Minji. You’re glad the profile was public in the first place, but maybe it wasn’t something you should be thankful for. You shouldn’t be diving head-first into this rabbit hole. But what you don’t know can’t hurt you, surely. 
You ignore your brain’s attempt at protecting you as you examine the profile further. Having your fair share of experience when it came to social media digging, it was easy to get an idea about who Kim Minji was. Her feed reflects the same feeling you got from the first post you saw— She seemed to take a liking to posting a variety of pictures that revealed different slices of her life. Looked to be an English major, and in the same year as you. She was undeniably stunning, model-like, even. Asides from Woonhak, you didn’t share many mutuals. You shouldn’t be looking too deep into this. You wouldn’t get anything good out of doing so.
You kept going. In her highlights, you didn’t notice anything too out of the ordinary. That is, until you got to one in particular, labeled only with a heart. Two weeks ago, a scenic view by the water. After that, two iced coffees are neatly placed side by side in a cute cafe, followed by other food-related pictures of the same nature. Clicking through the slides, you were about to write it off as just another compilation of aesthetic stills-- Except you see a familiar jacket appear in the background of one of the stories. The same jacket that currently resides in your closet. The same jacket Han Taesan wrapped around you before he kissed you for the first time. 
Putting together the pieces, you quickly realize the entire highlight showcased various dates they went on. You never got the chance to exchange anything besides a brief kiss and your number, but it was easy to find Taesan in both her followers and following. It was more than enough evidence for you to assume that it was Kim Minji he was talking to in the library. The one he called baby. He probably wore that jacket with her in the days leading up to the party. You think it’s dumb the way your heart hurts at the understanding; you’re unsure of why you yearn so badly for someone you’d only recently met, but maybe that’s why he built up such a reputation in the first place. 
[Instagram] the_myungjaeee: ok leave me on seen do u want me to kms
The notification on the top of your screen pulls you out of your thoughts. Rather than replying, you decide to open your messages, looking for one group chat in particular. 
to: “woonhak’s babysitters”! can i see u guys tmr :( 
The responses are instantaneous, and you’re happy to see that your friends are still awake– probably procrastinating their assignments as well. 
woonhak’s babysitters Jaehyun: OKAY NOW U TEXT THE GC INSTEAD OF REPLYING ON INSTAGRAM You: girl are u free or not Woonhak: yes let’s hang out Woonhak: but wats with the :( why are we :( y/n Jaehyun: bro ik u have my schedule memorized…. you KNOW i’m free  Jaehyun: don't forget we literally operate under the assumption that we are going to see each other everyday 🙄 Jaehyun: but ^^ is something wrong did something happen You: not really but i need to debrief again… 😀 Woonhak: mystery man? You: …….maybe 👎👎👎 meet at our usual cafe @ 3? Jaehyun: not u using us as love counselors again…. what’s in it for us 🤔 You: i’ll pay Jaehyun: 😍😍😍 SEE YOU GUYS TOMORROW 💯LOVE YOU! 😇
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
“It’s crazy how things taste better when you aren’t the one who paid for them!” Jaehyun stirs the iced coffee in his hand with the straw, grinning ear to ear.
“Yeah, whatever, I knew you would still show up even if I didn’t bribe you with free food.” You roll your eyes at the boy next to you, who is clearly enjoying the drink you just bought for him. “How can you tell if a guy is flirting with you?”
“You’re just going to drop a bomb on us like that?” Jaehyun lightheartedly criticizes. The teasing never seemed to stop when it came to talking about your love life, but you were glad to know they would always lend you an ear if you needed one. “Can you give us another hypothetical scenario for context?” 
“You remember how I texted that guy about his overdue book? Well, he showed up while I was working on Tuesday,”  They nod, listening intently as they periodically take small sips from their straws. “He’s always calling me pet names, like things my boyfriend should be saying... He even noticed I did my makeup differently that day too!” 
“I’m almost certain he likes you if he’s complimenting you like that all the time,” Woonhak affirms. “He’s definitely trying to woo you over with that sort of act.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be so bold with calling a girl those names if I wasn’t at least somewhat into her. Did you ask him to hang out after your shift was over?”
“I mean, I tried to. He stepped away to answer his phone, and it sounded like he was talking to a girl. At least, I think he was.” You’re fairly certain that you were right, but maybe it was safer not to jump to conclusions. 
“What makes you think that?”
“He kept talking about how he was almost done and that he’d be coming over soon… And he called them baby.” Who else would he call ‘baby’ if not another girl? Talking about it out loud brings back all the conspiracies going through your head when you’d stalked Minji’s profile before bed. 
“Wow, what kind of man would call someone that after blatantly flirting with you? I was almost rooting for him until you said that, you know.” Woonhak looks disappointed as he picks up a strawberry off the plate on the table and pops it into his mouth. 
The conversation goes dull for a moment, sounds from neighboring tables filling the silence at the table. “Woonhak, how do you know Kim Minji?” You pry, deciding not to dance around the question that could give you the answers you were desperately searching for.
“Minji? She helped me write some papers for English 301,” He’s taken aback by the direct question, but he answers quickly regardless. “She’s really nice though! I was hanging out with her and a bunch of other people the other week.”
“Woonhakie, what was that video she posted of you?” Jaehyun’s laugh rings throughout your corner of the cafe as he recalls the post he sent you last night. “You looked so funny dancing like that!” 
“Ah, is that what we’re talking about? Yeah, I lost a bet and I had to dance to a random song for three whole minutes. l didn’t think she’d post that though… Why do you ask?”
“...Is she dating anyone?” You shyly ask.
“What, are you interested? I have her number if you want it-“
“She’s pretty, but that’s not really what I’m trying to get at here,” You take a moment to think about how you’re going to go about this conversation. Might as well just rip off the bandaid. “Is she dating Han Dongmin?”
“Dongmin? I don’t know anyone named Dongmin.”
“Mm, Taesan?” You correct yourself by addressing him by his nickname. 
“Oh, that guy with the weird hair? I mean, he was with us a couple times,” Woonhak scratches the back of his head, trying to recall the events of the night. “But I don’t think they’re together. Not officially, at least.”
“I thought the contact I saw on your phone said Han Dongmin, though. Is he Han Taesan?” Jaehyun recollects the last time you went to them for advice. 
Cat’s out of the bag now. “Would you get mad at me if I said yes?” The laugh you let out is dry as you watch the condensation drip down the side of your cup. 
“What’s so bad about Taesan hyung?” Woonhak innocently asks, clearly lost.
“Woonhak, you know who he is right?” Jaehyun seems shocked as he seeks for confirmation.
“Duh, didn’t I just say he was out with my friends and I? I mean, who else has hair like that? I’m sure we’re talking about the same guy.”
“I don’t think you should keep talking to him, Y/N.” Jaehyun’s voice is stern from his place next to you. 
“Oh, you like Taesan Y/N?” Woonhak seems to finally grasp the situation. “You should’ve told me sooner! I’ve only met him a couple of times, but I could always invite you if I know he’s coming out with us! But then again… I only really see him when Minji is there.” Oh. He only shows up when Minji is there. Everything seems to make a bit more sense now. 
“Hey, am I even in this conversation?” Jaehyun whines, smacking the table with the palms of his hands. “I don’t like him for you, Y/N.” 
“Oooh… Are you jealous?” Woonhak wiggles his eyebrows at your best friend, who is clearly upset with the newly revealed identity of the main character in your dilemma. 
“Dude, I don’t even know why you’d say that. You know Y/N and I aren’t like that.” He’s glaring at the younger boy across from him, but his eyes soften when they turn back to you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“If he’s dating Minji, then I guess there’s no reason for me to be talking to him anymore.” Your throat feels dry. You take a sip from your drink, which was untouched for the past ten minutes. 
“You’ve never heard anything about Taesan then, Woonhak?” The boy in question shakes his head no, waiting for an explanation. “Han Taesan; music major famous for his rager parties and picking up girls anywhere he can– If anything, I’m more surprised you haven’t heard any word of him just by being on campus.” 
“Okay, so he throws dope parties and is popular with girls. So what? Don’t act like you didn’t have girls from different classes lining up for you back in high school.”
“That’s not the same as what I’m trying to get at. Han Taesan goes through girls like they’re nothing. And this is our sweet Y/N we’re talking about here— Do you want her with a guy like him?” At this point, Jaehyun’s visibly frustrated with his naivety. 
You place your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “Oh, he’s like that? He just seems so… Normal?” Woonhak comments, seemingly in disbelief, that Jaehyun’s version of Han Taesan is the same as his.
“Yeah, I thought that too.” Your voice trails off. You wanted to smack your past self for thinking everything everyone said about Taesan wasn’t true. That they were just baseless rumors. 
“Sorry, Y/N. If Taesan is really that kind of person, I don’t want him with you either. Plus, Minji was practically all over him that one time so maybe they actually are a thing-“
“Not the best thing to say right now, bro.” Woonhak shrinks in his seat, shutting himself up by taking a bite of the pastry he had in front of him. “So do you have feelings for him, Y/N? Didn’t you meet like, two weeks ago?” You nod, ashamed to admit the way you feel about someone who only came into your life recently. Sure, you’ve had similar crush upbringings in the past, but this felt different than your previous temporary infatuations. “I don’t think it’ll be easy, but I think you should take a couple steps back when it comes to a guy like him.” 
“Normally I wouldn’t be one to butt in so heavily when it comes to the guys you like, but I seriously have a bad feeling about him now.” Woonhak frowns, feeling like he lost his previous appetite.  
“Hell, if he’s getting all up close and personal with another girl and then telling you to kiss him the next time you’re at his place, it sounds like he only wants one thing from you. You’re just going to end as another one of his hook-ups.” You gnaw on the plastic straw in your cup as Jaehyun goes on. 
Just another one of his hook-ups. And with how well-known Taesan was around campus, people would find out who you were sooner or later. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. At the very least, you could probably see him more often if you were friends with benefits– What the hell are you saying?
“Don’t even think about it.” Almost as if reading your mind, Jaehyun raises his voice at you. You’re startled at his tone, flinching a bit in your chair. “Fuck, sorry. You don’t deserve to be discarded like one of his one night stands, is all I’m saying.” 
“I second that,” Woonhak’s equally as upset as Jaehyun now. “Man, screw this Han Taesan… Han Dongmin… Whoever he is. Literally any other guy would be better for you.” 
“I figured you’d react like this if I told you it was him from the beginning.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, chuckling at your friends’ concern. “Was it so wrong for wanting to see if he isn’t the bad guy that everyone makes him out to be?” 
“...I guess not, but if you knew he was a shit person, why even bother trying in the first place?” Jaehyun looks at you with genuine confusion written all over his face. 
“Dunno. I just thought I’d be interesting enough for him to want something more with me.” Maybe if you were prettier, or more popular. Maybe just then, that’d be enough for Han Taesan to change his ways. 
“I wish you saw yourself the same way we see you, Y/N.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
It’s been a few days since you broke down the situation properly with Jaehyun and Woonhak in the cafe. Even if whatever you had between you and Taesan was close to nothing, it’s hard to deny that it hurt a bit to think that your story ended so fast. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want things to end up like this. Rather than dwelling too hard on what could’ve been, you focused all your energy on cramming for the test you needed to study for. 
Despite that, you still found yourself wishing the two of you could run into each other, just once more. When you leave the elective class you share with Sungho, you scan around the building in hopes of getting a glimpse of Taesan’s hair in the hallways. When the library doors slide open, you can’t stop yourself from looking up from your monitor just in case he’s come to return his book. If Jaehyun knew you still had him on your mind after his scolding, he’d be furious. 
Unlocking the door to your shared apartment, you melt into the couch after another session of tutoring Woonhak after he’d desperately begged you to save him from failing his math class. The agreement was that he would pay for your lunch for an entire week in exchange for your help– You would’ve helped him regardless, but you wanted to see how desperate he would get for a tutor.
“Long day?” Minnie, your roommate, and friend from high school, greets you from her place in the kitchen. 
“Yeah, Woonhak is impossible to teach sometimes. He gets distracted every five minutes, I swear.” You complain as you run your hands through your hair.
“Aw, that sounds like him. How’s he doing?” The girl rests her head in her hand as she leans onto the kitchen island, looking over at you. 
“Good, aside from the fact that he currently has a 64 in math.” You chuckle, closing your eyes as you lean back into the plush pillows.
Minnie snorts, moving to open the fridge and bending down to find a drink. “Want something?” 
You pry one of your eyes open to see the girl waiting for your response by the refrigerator door. “Why not? I’m gonna need something to take away all the stress of trying to get Woonhak to understand how derivatives work,” Minnie smiles at you as she grabs two cans, bringing them to the living room and handing you one.
“Beer? Gross.” The drink feels cool in your hand as you look at the label. “It’s all we have, unless you want to go buy something different yourself,” She cracks the can open and takes a gulp, groaning at the carbonation.
You pout at her, but you open your drink and take a sip yourself regardless. “You wouldn’t want to come with me?” 
“Nope, I’m all showered and comfy already. You’d catch me dead before you see me leaving the apartment at this time.” You laugh as you stretch your arms into the air before they fall at your side comfortably. “You aren’t going to shower yet?” 
“Hey, it’s a Friday night. A girl can’t relax in her living room anymore?” 
“Yeah, a Friday night you spent three hours hunched up in those old study rooms again.” She props her legs up on the coffee table from her seat next to you, scrolling on her phone. “When was the last time you went out? You gotta take me with you next time.”
Taesan’s party. You weren’t one to go out too often, and you weren’t sure about the next time you would given the way your last outing ended. “Three weeks ago? I don’t remember.” You bluff; practically every detail from that night and the days that followed it were etched into your memory. 
Placing your can down on the table, you get up. “I’m gonna wash up, I’ll be back.” Minnie hums at you as she looks up briefly from what she was watching. You picked up the bag that you’d haphazardly thrown on the floor when you first got back and made your way to your room. Opening your drawers, you sort through your sleepwear, looking for one of your sweatshirts. On the bed, you hear your phone vibrating against the comforter. 
“Ugh, no way Woonhak has another question. He said he didn’t need my help anymore.” Taking off your clothes from the day and throwing on your hoodie and shorts, you move closer to look at who’s calling you.
Incoming call from “Han Dongmin”!
Just when you thought you weren’t going to hear from him again. What could he be possibly calling you for? If anything, you would’ve thought he’d be throwing another party. Or maybe he dialed the wrong person? You let it ring twice more before picking it up. 
“Hello?” You curse silently at the way your voice shakes when you speak. 
There’s laughter coming from the other end, alongside muffled voices. Is this some sort of prank? You’re about to hang up when you don’t get an immediate response. “Y/N? Hi.” It’s been a while since you heard him. 
“Taesan? Why are you calling me?”
“Not the name I want to hear from you, angel.” You let out an annoyed laugh, sitting on the edge of your bed. He has the nerve to talk to you as if he didn’t ghost you for the past two weeks. “Haven’t heard your sweet voice in a while. I guess I miss talking to you.”
“Dongmin, what’s this about?” You feel your heartbeat speed up, much to your disappointment. Curse him for having you wrapped around his finger still even when you thought you were getting over him. 
“There’s my girl,” He chuckles into the mic. “You busy?” You’re taken aback at his words. His girl. 
“Fuck off, don’t call me again.” …Is what you want to say, but your cheeks heat up against your will. You feel your composure falling apart at the mere sound of his voice. “...No. I just got home.” 
“Come over then.” Now, it really feels like a setup. You knew there were other people with him; he could have you on speaker for all you know. He’s probably trying to show off how easy it is to call a girl over at midnight. “...Only if you want to. It’s only me and a couple of other people here.” 
“Like who?”
“Leehan, of course. And some of my friends, Matthew, Heeseung, Minji.” His voice hushes into a whisper as he continues his thought. “To be honest, there’s a few more people here, but I can’t remember their names right now.” He giggles at his confession. It’s uncharacteristically cute– you’ve never heard him laugh like that before. 
Kim Minji. Another name you’d temporarily erased from your mind. “Who’re you talking to?” It’s Leehan; he sounds like he’s a couple feet away from Taesan, but you can tell it’s him by his voice.
You’re silent as you wait to hear what he says in response. Surely he wouldn’t admit to talking to another girl in front of his girlfriend. But then again, maybe he didn’t care to be cautious when it came to things like this. “Y/N, duh. You wanna talk to her?”
“Ah, I don’t really think you need to-” You get out, not seeing the point in talking to his roommate at this point of time, but ultimately getting cut off by Leehan taking the phone. 
“Hey, Y/N. Long time no see, yeah?” His baritone tone shocks you, sounding much deeper now that he’s properly speaking into the phone. “Our sweet Taesan over here was hogging the joint while he was chatting you up, so I hope you understand why I had to pull you away for a sec there.” Ah. He’s high. 
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know,” You fiddle with the string of your hoodie as you apologize, even if there isn’t anything for you to be sorry for. “I’m going to hang up now, just tell Dongmin I’m going to sleep or something.”
“Woah, hold up. Your Dongmin called you for a reason. You’re free to come over, you know. You don’t need to smoke with us, it’s cool.” There are more voices in the background, but the phone struggles to pick up the noise. “Who am I to stop a pretty lady like yourself from coming to our house again?” You can hear him smile as he talks. 
If Jaehyun would be mad if he found out you were just thinking about Han Taesan, he’d be livid if he knew you were seriously considering taking up the offer. Rustling comes from the other end, and you assume it’s Taesan getting his phone back.
“Hey, don’t try and take what’s mine, Leehan.” There he was again, calling you his. At this point, the title seemed rather fitting with the way you’re still on call, even after your friends warned you about the man you were speaking to.
“I’d love to see you again, Y/N.” Your name rolling off his lips sounds foreign, especially when he’s been known to exclusively call you pet names. “Door’s unlocked if you show up. Don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” 
There’s a small beep as he ends the call, giving you no chance to keep the conversation going. You fall back onto your bed, groaning out loud. “Are you okay?” You hear your roommate ask you from down the hallway. 
“Yeah, I’m good!” Not really, though. You’re upset at how quickly you decided to get ready to leave the apartment nstead of getting ready for bed like you initially intended to. Standing up, you move over to the mirror to address your current appearance. You internally thank Taesan for not calling you to come over after you’ve taken off your makeup completely. You touch it up slightly, glad that it hadn’t worn off much during the day. Grabbing your perfume on the dresser, you spritz yourself a couple times with the sweet scent. The clothes you would’ve worn to sleep were good enough– After all, it's likely nobody will be in the right state of mind to care too much about what you had on anyways.
You make your way back to the living room, walking past the couch where your roommate was still sitting. “You going somewhere? Aren’t you in your pajamas?” Minnie looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, beer can in hand. 
“Yeah, just going to stop by a friend’s place real quick.” You grab your keys off of the coffee table before moving towards the door.
She gives you a skeptical look, raising her eyebrow at your explanation. “I’m not going to ask you any more questions, but don’t do anything you’ll regret. I’ll be awake if you need me to save you or something– And don’t come back too late!”
“Got it, Mom.” The two of you share a laugh as you walk out into the hallway of your apartment complex, hearing the door beep as it locks shut behind you. You internally apologize to Woonhak and Jaehyun as you wait for the elevator to come up to your floor. You were seriously doing this, huh?
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
In any other situation, you probably wouldn’t be going out of your way to walk across campus at midnight— But because it’s a Friday, there were groups of students roaming around, making their way to bars or house parties. 
The weather was perfect for the walk, albeit it was only about ten minutes long. Even in your shorts, you weren’t too cold on the short trip to the house. It was hard to expect anything in particular by showing up, but you prayed you wouldn’t feel like a fool no matter what happened tonight. 
Just as Taesan said, the door to the house was unlocked; you turned the knob and slowly opened it, revealing the familiar interior. It was significantly cleaner than the last time you were there, probably because they weren’t throwing a party tonight. In this sort of setting, it looked more like a regular home than anything. The led lights towards the ceiling were set to a cool purple, enveloping the room in the color. The speakers were playing music, but at a more casual volume; just loud enough to hear the people you were talking to without being too disruptive to the conversation, maintaining a chill background noise for the smoke session you walked into. 
“Y/N? Come sit with us. Taesan just left to go buy some drinks.” Leehan’s head pops up at your entrance, motioning you to sit next to him on the couch with his hand. “You know anyone here?”
Taking the spot next to him, you glance around the faces scattered around the room. You’re glad they’re all preoccupied with passing around a bong, otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at everyone so shamelessly. There were only about six other people there, but you could only name Minji from her Instagram profile.
You shake your head no in response, giving him an awkward smile. “That’s okay, it doesn’t really matter. You can just stick by me tonight, then.” Leehan reassures you, oddly sweet compared to your last interaction. “Do you smoke?”
“Not really,” You answer. Weed wasn’t your drug of choice– you would’ve much rather preferred to drink, but it wasn’t something you were opposed to. It wouldn’t hurt, right? If anything, it’ll help you take away all the anxiety that was currently weighing down your shoulders. “I’ll smoke tonight though. It’s hard not to join in when you’ve all started without me.” There was no way in hell you were going to stay in that room longer than fifteen minutes if you were sober. 
“Atta girl, I knew you would fit right in.” The brunette praises as he reaches to pick up the tray on the table. You watch as Leehan fills up the rolling paper, skillfully turning it into a neatly packed joint. It’s kind of mesmerizing– you can tell he does this often with the way he finishes in an instant, licking the edge of the paper to close it. Of course, he doesn’t fail to make eye contact as he does so, effectively bringing a blush to your cheeks. Leehan’s looks were no joke. 
It made so much sense to think that Leehan and Taesan were roommates. Leehan reaches into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a neon green lighter. He places the joint in his mouth, cupping the end and inhaling as he lights it on fire. His head is thrown back onto the couch as he exhales into the air after holding it towards you, urging you to take a hit of your own. 
You take the spliff from him, noticing how large his hands are in comparison to your own. Your actions mimic his; bringing it up to your lips and breathing in the smoke. You immediately cough at the taste, embarrassed that your body seems to reject the weed despite having done this before. Leehan giggles at you, covering his mouth as he rubs the small of your back to help your coughing fit. 
“First time?” He takes it back from you, holding it between his fingers as it burns into the air. “You can be honest, I won’t judge.”
“...No, but it’s been a while.” The two of you are in your own bubble at this point, as you pay no mind to the other people just a couple of feet away. Almost as a means of proving yourself, you snatch the joint from his hand, taking another deep inhale-- successfully without interruption this time, making you internally sigh in relief. The two of you go back and forth sharing it, alternating hits as it slowly shrinks, his spare hand resting on your bare thigh throughout the whole thing. 
“You look like a natural now,” His laugh is breathy; he looked dazed over. It’s unknown how long they’d been at it before you arrived. “You feeling it yet?” He questions as he looks you in the eyes; his own are already glazed over, making them sparkle more than they normally did.
You can’t hold in your giggle at seeing him in such a state. “You are, that’s for sure.” You’re not sure when the two of you moved closer to each other, but your shoulders are touching as you both rest against the comfort of the couch. “I feel really good.” 
The eye contact between you two is broken as you look towards the sound of the door opening. Taesan walks through the entrance with a case of drinks under his arm, taking off his shoes before placing the box onto the table, only after taking one for himself. His face lights up once he sees you on the couch, sending you a grin as he takes his place next to Minji. “Nice to see you again, pretty.” 
Oh, right. You almost forgot she was here– you were so caught up in smoking with Leehan that you weren’t trying to get to know any of the other session attendees. Not that anyone cared, though. Most of them were just lying around, either swaying to the music that continuously played throughout the room, eating from the bags of open snacks laid out on the table, or nonverbal on their phones. 
Minji tries to wrap her arm around Taesan’s as he sits down, earning a side-eye from him as he gently pulls it away. It feels like you should be jealous after seeing that, but your mind is fuzzy. “Looks like Leehan stole my seat.” His tone is passive-aggressive as he addresses the man currently curled up next to you.
“Your seat? Maybe you should’ve called dibs if you wanted to sit next to Y/N so bad. I got her fair and square.” Leehan bites back. “I don’t know why you left right after you asked her to come over.”
He moves to put his arm around you– you can tell he’s trying to push his roommates’ buttons, and you decide to play into it. You two share a brief look, mischief in your eyes, as you both silently understand what you were doing. Instead of pushing his arm away like Taesan had just done with Minji, you lean into it, resting your head by his shoulder as you take another inhale of smoke. The pair of roommates are entranced by the way the cloud leaves your mouth, swirling and twisting into the air before ultimately disappearing. 
Leehan moves the both of you to where you’re sitting up properly and takes his arm off of you. Across the room, Taesan can’t keep his eyes off of the two of you; the way you’re feeding into Leehan’s obvious moves on you. “Can I try something?” You’re a little lost, but you nod your head regardless. His fingers brush against yours as he takes the blunt from your fingers, now a little less than half the size it was when he first rolled it. 
He takes a long drag, pulling away while keeping the smoke in his mouth. You’re shocked to feel his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his and using his thumb to part your mouth open. You also feel Han Taesan’s gaze burning into your skull, but you can’t turn to look with the grip Leehan has on you. 
Leehan slowly pushes the smoke out between his lips, which were currently only a couple of inches away from your own. You inhale instinctively, a bridge of smoke connecting you as you do so. The scene feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s just the high you’re currently feeling. You don’t know when other people began watching the exchange, but you can faintly hear witnesses egging on the intimate moment you’re sharing with Leehan. 
After all the smoke has passed between you, he moves his thumb to your mouth again, caressing your bottom lip gently. Leehan wants to kiss you. You know he’s not entirely there as he gives you a dopey grin, biting his own lip as his thoughts are fixated on how pretty he thinks you look right now. 
As much as you enjoyed the way Leehan was currently making you feel, you knew that it was all a game to him. It was significantly easier to read him– his intentions with you are as clear as day, unlike Taesan’s. The way he spoke to you didn’t fool you; his words were laced with nothing but lust, and you weren’t interested in taking it any further than it needed to be. This, you were sure of. With Han Taesan, you could never be too sure about what he was thinking. You wish it was this easy to see through him the way you could see through Leehan. 
You know exactly what you’re doing as you lean into the brunette. He smiles again, seemingly satisfied with your movements, as he closes his eyes and does the same. Of course he thinks he’s going to get what he wants. It pisses you off how smug he currently looks when he moves to kiss you.
“Please don’t, Y/N.” Right before you turn your head to swerve the kiss like you’d initially planned to, Taesan’s voice makes both you and Leehan halt your movements. His voice is… small. It’s not as confident as he would normally sound when talking to you; rather, it sounded like he was uncertain about whether or not you’d go as far as kissing his roommate in front of him. Leehan scoffs in annoyance, as he turns his head to look at the source of the interruption. 
“Way to cockblock, dude.” The room suddenly feels tense. You can feel more eyes on you now with the way Leehan’s voice pierces the music coming from the speakers. “She isn’t yours, you know that right? Just accept it, Taesan. If she wants to sleep with me, she can make that decision herself. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You can’t tell if this is all a part of Leehan’s plan to piss off his friend, but you weren’t having it anymore.
“Leehan, I’m not going to sleep with you.” He’s laughing in disbelief-- Like he couldn’t believe anyone would turn him down like that, especially in front of people watching. You can tell his pride is hurt when he moves to the opposite end of the couch, as far away from you as he can get without having to stand up. 
“Your loss. I’m sure you’ve heard already, but I’m a good fuck-” Out of nowhere, Taesan is grabbing your wrist and brings you up to your feet, dragging you towards the door. Your limbs feel weightless as he holds on to you, your steps gliding on the hardwood floors. You’re barely able to put on your own shoes as you walk into the night, Taesan leading the way.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ 
The cool air is refreshing; you take deep breaths, relishing at how nice it feels to be free from the smell of weed surrounding you. “Dongmin, you’re holding me too tight.” You pull back against his grasp, and he immediately drops your wrist, standing in front of you now.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what? I came over like you asked me to.” 
“Yeah, and you were all over Leehan when I walked in.”
“It should’ve been you,” You breathe out, just barely above a whisper. “He told me you left when I got there.”
“If you wanted it to be me, then why’d you let him do that? You know how he is.” He looks hurt as he confronts you, and you almost regret what you did back there.
“No, Dongmin, I don’t know how he is. And I also don’t know why you’re angry at me right now. You’re acting like I knew he was going to pull that stunt on me!” He doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way either. Your annoyance is clear as the night sky above you. 
“...Fine, say you didn’t know he was going to do that,” His brows furrowed as he interrogated you further.  “Why’d you lean in?”
“I knew you were watching us. I wasn’t going to kiss him either way.” You confess, not seeing the point in dancing around the bush. What you did could be seen as toxic, but you wanted to see if it would affect him at all-- to get him annoyed, jealous. Anything that could signal that he actually gave a shit about you. 
“Can you cut the bullshit? Do you want to sleep with my friend or not?”
“Did you not hear what I said to him? I told him straight to his face that I didn’t want to have sex with him– In front of everyone, for god’s sake Dongmin! Are you hearing yourself?” Taesan is quiet, not knowing what to say.
“Why does any of this matter to you?” You prod, impatiently awaiting his response. Because he likes you. Because you’re more than another one of his groupies. More than just a meaningless one night stand. You just need him to say it himself.
“Forget it, then. Where’s your apartment? It’s late, I’ll take you back.” He dismisses his previous outburst. You aren’t surprised that he changes the subject, but you wished he took the chance to clear up whatever it was between you two. 
“I can go on my own.” You turn away from him, knowing that if you look at him properly your resolve will fall almost immediately. 
“I’m not letting you walk back at one in the morning, Y/N. It’s not good for a pretty girl to go home alone like this.” Why does he want to ensure the safety of a girl he won’t even admit he has feelings for? 
“You don’t need to do that. I’ll just call someone while I go home, it’s not that serious.” You brush off his offer nonchalantly despite knowing you wouldn’t want to go back alone at this time of night. 
“I want to.” Taesan’s insistent; you didn’t take him as the type of guy to be so stubborn when it came to things like this. “It’s either you let me walk you home, or I’m just going to trail five feet behind you until I see you get back safe.” 
“You’d look like a freak doing that, by the way.” You tease, laughing at the image of him following you around like a bodyguard. 
“Oh, I’m very aware. Which is why I’m politely requesting that you let me walk you home.” His gaze is soft as he pleads with you for the last time. “Please, Y/N?” 
The next three minutes go by in silence, the only noise being the nearby chatter of the occasional groups of partygoers passing by the area. You never explicitly told him to go away, but he matches your pace as you make your way towards your apartment. 
Halfway through the walk, you realize that this could be your chance to talk to Taesan properly. A chance to learn more about him without any intrusions; to see the type of person he truly is. At this very moment in time, this is the closest thing he’ll ever be to being yours.
“I’m thirsty, Dongmin.” You blurt out, suddenly realizing how dry your mouth was, having had nothing to drink for the past hour. 
“Are we almost at your place? You can drink something when you get home, no?” His steps slow down as he turns to you, his hands resting in his pockets. He isn’t wrong, but you were searching for an excuse to extend the time you had alone with him. 
He’s met with your pouty face looking up at him, and he swears his composure dissolves in an instant; he would do anything for you right then and there. “…There’s a convenience store nearby.” 
Your face lights up as you put your hand out for him to take, telling him to bring you there. It’s things like this— you always manage to find a way to catch him off guard. Taesan’s not used to being the flustered one when it comes to women, but he'll gladly endure it if it was you doing it to him.  
The neon sign is bright in the dark of the night, lighting up both of your faces as the boy moves to open the door, motioning for you to go in first. You wrap your arms around your torso as you head towards the refrigerated section, selecting your drink of choice after some thought. “Are you hungry?” 
He shakes his head no, but his eyes are fixated on you across from him standing in your pajamas, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you stand in the middle of the convenience store. His heart is beating so fast, he’s worried you can hear it from where you are. “Why are you looking at me like that, Dongmin?”
The speed in which his cheeks turn pink is endearing. “Uh, your eyes are red.” Taesan clears his throat as he looks back to the various beverages in front of them, pretending to read the labels as he puts an end to his obvious ogling. 
“Thanks, genius. Who would’ve guessed?” You tuck the bottle you were holding under your arm, moving to look through the aisles of snacks and pre-packaged food lining the store. “You aren’t high anymore?” 
“I stopped smoking right after I got off call with you. I don’t really feel it.” To be honest, Taesan wasn’t much of a smoker either, but you didn’t need to know that. The smoke sesh was planned by none other than his roommate, and Taesan only happened to walk in on it after returning home from one of the campus recording booths. He only took a few hits before he thought it’d be a good way to invite you over; it was not nearly enough to get him in the floaty state you were coming down from. 
“Well, I still am. And I’m fucking starving,” He lets out a small laugh, watching you exaggeratedly ponder about which pack of instant ramen you were going to get. “Do you want anything?” 
“Mm, no. Not that hungry.” You squat down to the floor in an attempt to see the bottom shelves better. He’s glancing around the aisle as well, moving to pick up something from above you. When you turn to look at him again, he’s holding out a cup of Shin Ramyun in your face. 
You tilt your head. “I thought you didn’t want anything, though?” 
“I don’t,” He answers matter-of-factly. “This is one of my favorites.” You hesitantly take the ramen from his hands as you get up, walking towards the cashier at the front of the store without any further comment.
You can feel Taesan standing behind you as you both watch the worker scan your drink and ramen. “It’s going to be 3,000 won.” Pulling out your phone to pay, your face recognition fails once, preventing you from opening your Apple wallet. You send an apologetic smile to the cashier for the hold-up.
Your card finally shows up on your screen, allowing you to finally tap the corner of the pay screen– except you’re met with Taesan’s hand holding his card and paying for your items. “Thank you, have a nice night!” The worker pushes your purchases towards you on the counter. Taesan moves to pick them up from behind you, bringing it to a table in the corner of the store.
He slides out the chair for you, which you move to sit in afterwards. Taesan grabs your drink and twists the cap off, offering the opened bottle to you. You gladly accept, taking big gulps and soothing your cottonmouth. “I could’ve done that myself, Dongmin. Same with paying back there.” 
“I know,” Opening up the ramen halfway, he brings the cup up to the hot water dispenser, filling up the line inside. “You probably haven’t noticed it, but you’re moving in slow motion. It makes me want to take care of you.” His last comment is just barely loud enough for you to hear. He finally sits down next to you after he uses a pair of chopsticks to pin the cover of the ramen closed while it cooks.
“I owe you then,” You comment, taking another sip from the bottle in your hand. 
He almost looks offended at your offer to pay off your debt, waving his hand no in front of your face. “Just take it as an apology for me lashing out at you earlier… Sorry. I don’t know why I got so angry back at the house.” 
You want to roll your eyes and tell him the answer to his obliviousness. Surely he should know why. It’s because you like me, isn’t it? Perhaps it’s a big conclusion to jump to, but it’s the only reason that would justify his jealousy after seeing you and Leehan together. 
Taesan takes the chopsticks off of the cup ramen, breaking them apart and mixing together the noodles. Bringing a wad of noodles into the air, he gently blows on it, the steam rising into the air. You gasp at the smell, suddenly reminded of the intense case of munchies you were experiencing. He hums as he finishes cooling down the bite, bringing the chopsticks to your mouth. “Here.” 
Is he trying to feed you? Your eyebrows raise in shock, moving away slightly before leaning in, accepting the food he was holding out for you. The smile he gives you as he watches you eat is sickeningly sweet; he looks content seeing you so happy while you eat. Taking the chopsticks from his hand, you mirror his actions, except this time you offer a bite to the boy currently watching your every move.
It was cute the way he looked like a surprised puppy once he realized you were giving him a bite of his own. He opens his mouth, letting you feed him the cooled-down noodles. You watch as a blush creeps up his neck once more; he covers his mouth as he chews, looking away to avoid your gaze. “Thanks.” He utters, voice quiet with the way he was currently refusing to face you.
This side of Taesan is what truly baffled you. Despite your tendency to fall for people quicker than most, you were smart enough to catch onto the signs of someone liking you back. And in Han Taesan’s case, it couldn’t be clearer to you– his usual cool-guy image disappearing when it comes to you, his atypical moments of concern, his jealousy when it comes to other men, his current acts of service. 
Even to Woonhak and Jaehyun, it sounded like Taesan liked you. The only thing that made you question your theory was the fact that he seemed to have a tendency to run. To run away when things between you two became a little too real. But what was holding him back from being honest with himself? 
“Do I make you nervous, Dongmin?” You wanted to try and pry the words you wanted to hear out from him. 
Now, he reminded you of a deer caught in headlights. His head snaps back towards you, eyes the widest you’ve ever seen them. His sudden movements make him choke on the ramen he has in his mouth. Your hand immediately moves to his back to pat it as he coughs. Pushing your bottle of water towards him, he gladly takes a swig from it to end his coughing fit. “Why do you think that? Do I seem nervous around you?”
“Sort of. I can’t really think of a good way to describe it right now.” You pick up the chopsticks that were resting on the side of the cup to take another bite into your mouth. “But I feel like there’s more to you than what you let on.”
He’s resting his head on his hand now, elbow propped up on the metal table. “What do you mean? You think I’d be different than I am now?”
“Not exactly. In fact, I think the way you act with me is what I’d expect from you. It’s more like… With what little I know about you, I’d think you weren’t this sweet just based on how you look.”
“...Is there something bad about the way I look?”
You scoff, playfully pushing his shoulder. “You can’t seriously be acting like this right now. Everyone on campus thinks you’re hot.” It’s true, yourself included. 
“Oh, is that so?” His lips curve up into a smile. You both know damn well that he’s attractive. 
“Whatever,” Grabbing the drink sitting in front of him, you wash down the taste of your last bite. “I think I’ve almost got you figured out, Dongmin. There’s just a couple things I can’t quite place.” It’s only somewhat true, but you were hoping saying this would make him open up about himself more. 
 “If that’s the case, you could’ve just asked me, angel.” Taesan looks taken aback at your admission. In all honesty, he doesn’t know what you’re referring to, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to find out. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything, really.”
“Anything?”
“You realize you probably know nothing about me, right? I’d say the same about you.”
“What? That’s not true,” He pauses for a second to think about what he could possibly recall about you, only to find that you were right. “Oh. I guess you have a point.” He scratches the back of his head, feeling guilty agreeing with what you just said. “It’s weird, though. I feel like I’m comfortable with you even if we don’t know each other that well.” 
“So, are you going to tell me more about yourself or should we just keep pretending we’re friends like we have been this whole time?” 
He pouts at you. “You don’t think we’re friends?” 
“...Okay, I’ll get going then.” You glare at him as you clean up your mess, dumping it into the empty ramen cup. You move to stand up, only to find him tugging gently on your sweatshirt sleeve and pulling you back down into your chair. 
“Sorry, I was just joking,” He gives you an apologetic look before straightening his posture and turning to face you better. Your knees were touching now, faces only a couple feet away from each other. “Where should I start, then? My MBTI or something?”
“Whatever you feel like telling me, Dongmin. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” You shrug. You truly didn’t know anything about him from just your interactions and what you heard people say about him, which weren’t necessarily the best, to say the least. Anything he said would be new information to you.
“I don’t really think MBTI is that serious, but I’m an INTJ. I wanted to be an idol until I graduated middle school, but I don’t think that kind of spotlight fits me too well anymore. That’s why I settled on being a music major instead. I think I’d rather be behind the scenes instead of being on the main stage all the time.” 
You can feel a smile creeping up on your face at the way he’s genuinely indulging in your request. “I can see it. You being an idol, that is.”
“You think so? I don’t know. Seems pretty tiring to keep up an act like that all the time. Plus, I think I’m happy where I am right now,” Taesan looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs as he continues. “It’d be hard to not be able to see my family all the time as an idol.”
“Your family?”
“Yeah, I have two younger siblings back at home. I miss them a lot, even if I’m not that far from home. It’s kind of sad to think that I miss out on watching them grow up when I’m at school.” 
You place your hand atop his, making him stop his fidgeting. Just like that, Han Taesan felt a lot more real to you. He feels like Han Dongmin. “I’m sorry. It must be difficult for you then, huh?”
“Oh, yeah, sometimes.” He takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers now instead. The action makes you giggle to yourself; he really resembled a big baby. “It’s fine though, I text them all the time. My dad’s always sending me pictures of our new dog or them having dinner together. It’s not like I can’t call them when I want to. I’m just grateful.”
You hum in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I get it. It’s nice having some of my friends from high school go here too, otherwise, I think I’d be way too homesick for my liking.”
“Are you far from home then?”
“I’m only a couple hours away, but I’m kind of sappy when it comes to things like that. Like, I find a lot of sentimental meaning in different things, and my hometown obviously holds a lot of that for me, growing up there and all.” 
“It’s great you have people here you know though, seriously. When I first got here, I knew no one. I only met Leehan by chance at some club event I went to.” Taesan lets out a small laugh at the memory. “He was a lot different back then, I’d say. He pisses me off sometimes, but he’s a good friend most of the time. Dude’s a lot more normal when it’s just us at the house together.” 
You think back to your few interactions shared with his roommate. How different could he have been if that’s the way he acts now? It’s hard to imagine Leehan anything else than your typical college fuckboy, but you initially saw the boy sitting next to you the same way, so you don’t write it off as impossible.
“I don’t know why I’m talking about him. He’s been annoying me lately,” The grip he has on your hand tightens slightly, but quickly returns to his previous gentle hold. “Who are your friends from home? Sungho and Riwoo?”
“Huh? No, I only met them last year, but they’re the best. It was some dumb assigned group project thing, but we get along really well. I’m usually hanging out with my friends Jaehyun and Woonhak, though.” Saying their names aloud reminds you of how they pleaded with you to drop Han Taesan just days before this– yet here you were, your hand in his as you talked about your lives in the middle of the local convenience store. 
“Ah, Woonhak? He’s younger than us, right?” You nod, completely forgetting that Woonhak was the reason you found out that there was another girl Taesan was currently entertaining. “He’s funny, I’ve hung out with him a few times here and there. He keeps asking me to show him what songs I’ve been writing recently.” 
This makes you think they were closer than they really were, but you knew it was just Woonhak’s usual (endearingly) nosy self at work. “Wow, Woonhak gets to hear them but I can’t?” You pull your hand away from him to grab at your chest, pretending that the realization broke your heart. 
“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” Taesan takes your hand back into his, letting them rest where your knees meet. “I can show you sometime, just not now though. I’ve been working on something special recently, and it’s not perfect yet.” 
“Do you call everyone that?” His eyes meet yours, tilting his head to the side slightly. 
Upon understanding what you’re trying to get at, he waves his free hand in front of you defensively. “Ah, it’s not like that. Just force of habit, I guess?”
“Okay, so by force of habit, you mean yes. I got it.” Taesan opens his mouth to defend himself again, but you cut him off. “Don’t freak out, I don’t really care. We’re friends, right?” You laugh to yourself at the irony of your own statement. Yeah, friends who kiss and call each other pet names. So stupid. 
The chime above the door jingles as a group of very obviously inebriated college students come in, loudly seeking out food to satisfy their drunk cravings. “It’s getting late, can I walk you home properly now?” 
Quickly cleaning up after yourselves, you both make your way out of the convenience store before you run into more groups of people coming back from the parties that just ended. Taesan grabs your hand as you start walking, interlocking your fingers in his. You were surprised, but definitely not complaining. The way his large hand felt in comparison to yours was addicting; you’d never let go if you could. Feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, you use your free hand to see who’s texting you. 
2 new messages from “babygirl minnie”! Minnie: babe r u coming home tonight or do i need to pick u up from somewhere 🤔 Minnie: i’m going to sleep in like 20 mins lmk ASAP or ill kill u 😘 to: “babygirl minnie”! You: yes mother i’m omw back now 👍 u dont need to stay up someone’s walking back with me
You watch the screen as she hearts your message almost immediately, and you slip your phone back into your pocket. “Who’s that?” Taesan asks, who was peering over his shoulder while you replied.
“It’s my roommate. She’s worried I’m not going to get back safe.” 
“I would be too if I had a beautiful girl like you as my roommate walking all by herself at this time.” His hand squeezes yours gently as you walk, the night sky littered with stars. The route you were taking home wasn’t your usual route. In fact, it was the longest path you could take without straying too far off campus. Was it so wrong to want to hold hands with Han Taesan as long as you possibly could?
“I wish I got to see you like this more often, Dongmin.” 
“Well, you’re seeing me now. That’s not enough for you, angel?” His steps slow down, making you stop as well. 
“That’s not what I meant. It was nice to talk to you normally for once.”
“Ah, so my girl wants to talk to me more. I’m just a call away, you know.”
You scoff at his words. “We both know that’s not true.” If you even tried calling, would he bother to answer? For all you know, he’d just go back to leaving you with nothing but radio silence for days on end.
“…I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
“What I want to know is why you treat me so nicely and then disappear for a week?” It might be the effects of your high coming to an end, but you suddenly feel all the frustration you’d previously felt when it came to Taesan coming out of nowhere. “Fuck, I hate to ruin the nice moment we just had but it’s hard not to say something when you make me feel like an idiot every time.”
In front of you, Taesan stares back with a blank expression. Nothing. It’s as if he doesn’t even know what he’s been doing to you. Seeing his face just angers you further. “Hell, I don’t even know why it’s so hard for me to not come running back to you the second you call. I look ridiculous going back to you even when my best friends told me not to.”
“Y/N, calm down. You’re thinking too deeply about things right now. Maybe it’s the weed.” Taesan tries to put his hand on your arm, but you pull away immediately. You felt like he wasn’t hearing anything you were saying. 
“Am I just someone you hit up when you’re lonely? Just someone who’s conveniently always going to answer? That’s the last person I’d want to be to you.”
“C’mon, sweetheart. You’re more than that to me, okay?” 
“I wish I could find it in me to believe you, Taesan.” 
“I don’t like hearing you call me that.” Hearing his nickname come from your mouth felt like an arrow to the heart, for some reason. It all felt wrong. You shouldn’t be calling him that intentionally; it wasn’t right coming from you. Taesan didn’t want you to see him the same way everyone else did, but he couldn’t explain why.  
“Even things like this, like calling you by your real name. You make it feel like you genuinely care about me, even when you have other girls wrapped around your finger the same way you have me. It’s like you go out of your way to make me feel special only to forget about me the next day!”
“Darling, you are special to me. I don’t know how else to prove it to you.” He couldn’t be serious. How did he expect you to feel special when, for all you know, he could be treating his next girl the exact same way? 
“You confuse me, Taesan.  Because just now, in that convenience store, you seemed like you were telling me things you haven’t told other people, but I know that the chances of me even hearing from you tomorrow are slim.”
“You’re acting like we’re dating or something. We were never anything like that, Y/N.” He spits back without thinking, feeling equally as frustrated now. The night air felt colder than it did before. Whether or not Han Taesan reciprocated your feelings, he was completely oblivious to his actions. Leehan was right. Taesan wasn’t yours, nor were you his, but you felt like tonight told you everything you needed to know. 
Your mouth opens in disbelief. “Don’t say that shit to me,” You turn on your heel, angrily resuming your way back to your apartment. Taesan raises his arm, debating on whether or not to try and stop you from ending the conversation as is, ultimately letting it fall back to his side. You look back at him after a few steps. “I’m fine going home on my own, so don’t bother following me to my place.” 
Han Taesan knew he screwed up. 
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tremendum · 3 months
Text
heaven is a place on earth ; joel miller
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02; stopping and stalling
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au (pre-outbreak, altered ages), Joel Miller x fem!nanny!reader. dedicated to the anon who suggested this trope.
↬   prologue  part one series masterlist main masterlist
↬     "after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you - only a few weeks, and you already fucked this up."
↬     warnings; tagged 18+ for eventual smut and mature themes. MDNI. age gap (reader is 22, joel is 35), fiscal anxieties, shitty ex, brief mention of marijuana use, some Tommy x reader, brief allusions to masturbation, fantasies, brief hand kink, brief scent kink (???lol), brief praise kink (use of term girl), car talk tbh im sorry... also light angst/anxiety i guess, fluff. reader is described as smaller than joel.
↬     heyyyyy guys! thanks for being patient, i had some writer's block but im finally back! i hope you like the next part of this series, lmk what u think/if theres anything you'd like to read w this trope. also im sorry i cant help that there is flirting with tommy too,,, i need them both expeditiously lol. xoxo love u all
series mixtape, song three; In Too Deep, Sum 41. 2000.
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"shit."
thighs burning, your shoes squish against the soaked pavement as you carry yourself as fast as possible down the sidewalk. "shit, shit, shit."
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the rain that pours from the sky is unforgiving; your hair slides in a stringy mess against your neck as you try to calm your heartbeat, blurrily watching as the house grows larger in your wavering vision.
bottom lip quivering, you ignore the cold shiver that comes up your spine; why today? why, why today?
you're afraid to check your cellphone; hell, you haven't even thought to check it until now! shit. Joel's probably pissed.
you let out a pathetic groan, heart hammering as you ignore the time on your wristwatch: 8:21am. twenty-one minutes late.
fuck, you think. fuck fuck fuck.
you could have texted Joel - in fact, any rational person would have probably had that immediate thought after their car sputtered to a stop on the side of the road, smoke slinking from the side of their hood as the rain splattered aggressively on the windshield.
you should have texted him, let him know you'd be late - but then, you'd gone into your damn glovebox to check your AAA number and been reminded unpleasantly of what you've been working hard to forget; your ex's full name boasted across the registration for the car had sent you into a near frenzy. everything that's built up - the near-eviction, the breakup, the move, the rain, your car. all of it hit you at once.
there's no way you can afford to pay for a fixed engine (and shit, you don't even know if the engine is the problem) without insurance, and your dickhole ex has still not signed any of the paperwork for you to take the title of the car back. so. shit.
for over twenty minutes you've been trudging through the rain - you're soaked to the bone, fighting back tears, and already wondering if you'll be able to take back your full-time job at the library. 
after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you as you turn the corner up the driveway, only a few weeks and you already fucked this up. 
you have to shut your eyes harshly as the front door opens; whoever's on the other side must have been watching out the window for any sign of you - and here you are, washing up on the Miller's driveway like a batch of late season seaweed; a wet puppy, shaking and trying not to have a full breakdown, your eyes clenched shut. 
Joel's voice finds your ears as you finally make it onto the porch - a respite from the downpour, there's just a slight breeze that blows mists of rainwater over your cold form.
you feel like an idiot. you cannot afford to lose this job. you're a fool. 
Joel says your name in concern; a far cry from the anger you'd expected. "y'okay? what happened?”
you take a shaky breath, meeting his eyes - they're warm, honeyed in the darkened skies of the morning and it makes you feel so much worse. he must've slept in, too - odd, considering it's a Wednesday - he's wearing pajama flannels, a gray shirt, and his hair is fluffed out - curling up at the ends, the tips still damp from a shower. Tommy's work boots are gone from the front - he must've gone to work, Joel staying back to wait on your tardiness. fuck.
"I'm so sorry, Joel-" your throat closes up, blinking back the emotion that wavers in your voice. you feel stupid. "I'm so sorry I'm late-" you shake your head, praying to every god up above or below to make your lip stop wobbling so pathetically. 
but Joel doesn't hesitate to step aside, brows drawn low, "come in, you're soakin' wet." 
you bite your lip as you shuffle inside, barely registering the hovering palm on the small of your back as you awkwardly stand on their doormat, focusing your eyes blearily on the darkness of the house. 
the overcast storm throws the usually warm, sunny house into a bout of cool blues and grays - the drawings on the wall, the guitar in the corner reflecting the rolling clouds from the window panes. you suck a breath through your lungs and ignore the way it draws short - either you're very close to crying, or you really need to stop smoking so much weed. probably both. 
"did you walk all the way here?" Joel asks, brows furrowed in that kind look of concern, eyes flickering to the storm outside and back to you. "where's your car?" 
this brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes and you look up towards the high vaulted ceiling of their foyer, shaking your head. 
"my car broke down, just off Park Street, and I can't-" you sigh, biting back the sting of tears, "I can't take it in, and it was pouring rain and I didn't want to ruin your day-" you are forced to take a sharp inhale, letting out stuttered breaths. you shake your head, hands rising to wipe what's surely the streaks of mascara that have gathered under your eyes, your clothes still sticking to you and hair dripping solemn pools onto Joel's hardwood. "I'm just so sorry that I'm late. I swear, it'll never happen again." 
something in his face becomes very soft - maybe it's the lighting, that casts a slight shadow from his nose, or the way his brows gather together in an upwards tick, but he shakes his head at it makes your heart pang. 
"didn't you see my text, darlin'?" he says softly, "we called off working today. 's too stormy to do construction." 
the name drips from his lips so casually you barely register it fully. your cheeks heat; you're not sure if it's more from his use of the term or from the slow realization washing you in a wave of embarrassment. darlin' - you're not unused to people using words like that, hell, you grew up here - but it's different coming from his mouth.
you ingore that thought; your hands shake slightly as you move to pull out your phone - your purse is soaked too, three shades darker than it usually is. the buttons on your cellphone are damp and your heart pangs when you wonder if it'll be ruined from water damage - but there it is, a text from Joel about forty minutes ago: 
Rain is coming down pretty hard today. You don't need to come over—Sarah and I can manage. Take the day off and relax, you deserve it.
Thanks. Joel
your throat closes tight: "oh," you squeak, biting your lip as the screen becomes blurry; relief floods through you just as embarrassment does - a fun cocktail in your veins that makes you smile weakly. "didn't-" you clear your throat, "didn't see that." 
only a split moment of silence in which the house withstands the assault of rain on its roof; Joel hums, "here, let me get you a towel.”
he disappears down the hall and you take the moment to breathe deep; letting the warmth of the house seep into you, your hands tremble with the emotional strain of humiliation that is coursing through you. what a fool. your heart beats hard in your throat, but there is a large relief when you understand that Joel does not seem keen on firing you for being 20 minutes late to the job he told you not to come in for. you curse yourself for not checking your text messages before leaving your apartment this morning.
Joel returns quickly, towel in hand; you take it and can only bring yourself to whisper your thanks into the empty foyer. 
“don’t worry about it." he says, shrugging one shoulder, "y'said your car's on Park Street- that's over a mile away, why didn’t you call me?”
you strain the water from your hair with the towel, clutching the scent of the warm fabric to you; it's not pink like the one's in Sarah's bathroom, and with a heat on your cheeks, you register it must be one of Joel's. shrugging, you shake your head. “I didn’t want to bother you - or, I guess I was just...distracted. my car… is sort of complicated.”
Joel’s brow furrows, “complicated?”
you hesitate - you don't want to come off to your current 'employer' as untrustworthy or reckless, but it's Joel - he's kind, understanding, if not a bit aloof at times; but you trust him. you swallow with a bitter chuckle, “the car’s title is still in my ex’s name. I can’t bring it to a shop without him, and I don’t know how to even check under the hood myself-”
your hand flies to your face to furiously wipe away the tears of humiliation that fall; great. just what you needed - to cry in front of him like a baby. 
“hey," a hand, warm and heavy, falls to your shoulder; your wet eyes trail to his figure, where he soothes over your shivering arm. you miss its presence as he pulls back away, "if you want, I’ll take a look at it when the rain stops.”
you shake your head, "I couldn't ask you to do that." 
"you're not askin' me, I'm offerin'." he insists; you meet his eyes to find generosity swirling in that honeyed brown; you smile up at him with a watery gaze, unsure how to thank him.
"you can stay here 'till then, or I can give you a ride back to your place in a bit when Tommy gets back. he had t'run to the job site to get our tools." 
you look up at him, craning your neck as you search his expression for any hint of irritation or anger - none. you flush as you wipe under your eyes again, “thank you, Joel. I'm sorry, again, for this..." you look down, gesturing vaguely to yourself,  "...mess." 
he holds your gaze for a moment, as the rain pours against the slats of the house and the panes of the windows, and shakes his head slightly. your stomach rolls over as you stand, still shaking with the nerves and cold, not breaking contact: something about his utter calm in the middle of your hurricane-mind has your face hot. 
Joel opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a light on the stairwell flips on, and footsteps slide down the stairs, as if Sarah has taken to sliding down the carpet on the balls of her feet. you used to do something similar as a kid.
“dad?” Sarah mumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she appears on the stairs; Joel takes a quick step back from you, the distance sudden and coaxing another rush of surprise to confusion over your cheeks - had he really been standing that close? you have no time to analyze the action before he's speaking to her. 
 “morning, sweetpea." he says, clearing his throat. Sarah's eyes meet yours and they widen slightly, padding over to you and saying your name softly, "are you okay?" she asks as she takes your hand gently. such a sweet girl.
you force a smile, weakened from the moment you'd just had, from the morning you've had; her eyes are so full of that same concern her father carries, though, and it warms your heart. you nod, “I’m alright, Sarah. just a little wet from the rain." you shift on the balls of your feet as your gaze flickers to Joel - he nods, looking back to his daughter, "well, how about we get you some breakfast?” he suggests. inadvertently you become aware of your own rumbling stomach, having come back to life after the realization that you aren't losing your job today. 
Sarah nods, her sleepy face breaking into a smile, “pancakes?”
Joel grins; it's as if the tension eases from the room as he nods back at her, “pancakes it is. 'm right behind you, sweetpea.”
Sarah traipses to the kitchen; you stay back awkwardly, watching as she disappears - Joel turns back to you, lifting a brow. "I can take a look at your car after the rain stops later this afternoon, or if y'want, I can take you home when Tommy's back?" he says, eyeing the keyhooks that remain empty by the front door; you shift on your feet, itching to flee, but itching to stay and embrace the warmth you've come to enjoy in this house. he continues with a small smirk, "-if you stay, I can't offer much besides some mediocre pancakes and some even more mediocre coffee." 
despite your humiliation and exhaustion, you can't help the short laugh at Joel's valiant attempt to lighten your mood; unfortunately his charm is undeniable, and you're reminded of what Michelle said to you those days ago: 
Joel is a nice man. just- don't get into trouble. 
you curb your smile, lifting a brow when you hear Sarah's voice call from the kitchen, yelling your name and dragging out the vowels. "-come help me with breakfast!"
you glance back to Joel, "if you really don't mind, then I'd like to stay," you say smally with a smile. "if I went home, I'd just lay around and mope. plus," you nod your chin towards the kitchen, "seems like you've been demoted from sous chef." you tease, finding a bit of yourself returning in the comfort of the sweet girl you nanny and her father. 
he grins back at you, shaking his head, "I don't doubt you'd make a better sous than me, darlin'-" he takes in your still soaking shirt, "but you should take a shower, I'm worried you'll catch a cold in those clothes."
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Joel leads you upstairs, into the master bathroom.
you school yourself, keeping your eyes on his large frame, not daring to look around at his bedroom and all the different pieces of Joel you've yet to discover. you're used to Sarah's room, with pinks and blues and purples and action figures and textbooks - not this adult bedroom, with t-shirts and framed photos and a heavy scent of amber and cedarwood. 
he hands you a stack of clean clothes - a flannel and what seems to be a pair of sweatpants; you smile gratefully, ignoring the heat on your cheeks and in your chest; a feeling nestles in your heart, stuck halfway between humiliation and some kind of intimacy, neither of which feel right in this moment. 
you shake it off as he tells you to take your time, disappearing back down the hallway with a mutter about ensuring nobody set the kitchen on fire yet. 
you close and lock the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath.
the last hour has been a whirlwind: losing your car, almost losing your job, the humiliation of walking in the rain, showing up to work when you had the day off - all of it catches up to you. 
but instead of crying again, you let out a short huff, shaking your head. you'll be okay - smiling watery to yourself in the mirror, you puff your cheeks and blow the air out slowly. Joel won't fire you. you'll get help with the car. deeeep breath. 
the bathroom is small and intimate and you find it heats up very quickly as you run the shower; within forty seconds the mirror begins to fog and you're wrapped in a cocoon of warmth that eases the chill that's seeped into your bones. you peel off your wet clothes with still-shaking hands, slipping under the heat of the stream quickly. 
you stand, staring at the wall, for several minutes before snapping out of it; a thick scent has begun to leak its way into the steam of the shower, and you eye the culprit - an opened, unscrewed bottle of some kind of men's body wash. you blink with heated cheeks as you're suddenly assaulted with visions of Joel in this very shower; the thought sends your heart racing and you swallow thickly, not able to resist the temptation to lather it over your own body.  
the smell is that same amber scent, citrusy and male - you don't mind it as you let the suds slide off your skin, trying not to think about him. Joel. his kindness, his concern, his hands- you shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts; it's not right, you tell yourself.
just- don't get into trouble. 
it isn't right to think of him this way, especially when he's just being kind - especially when he's so much older, especially when you're the nanny for his daughter. 
but your hands linger on your skin, the scent of Joel's soap mingling with the steam, creating an intoxicating mix that makes your head spin; the soft weight of his hand soothing your shoulder, how it'd feel if he dragged those hands down - a pang of guilt and you quickly push the thought away, snapping back to the present. 
you slam off the showerhead, shaking your mind of your polluting thoughts. 
the towel Joel gave you earlier dries you off quickly, and you wipe away a small section of the mirror to see your reflection - you pull the clothes on he'd given you, cuffing the length of the pants, buttoning the warm flannel over yourself with a small smile. 
you don't let yourself wallow any longer; the smell of breakfast wafts up through the vents and into Joel's bedroom as you exit, a swirl of steam curling around you as you towel-dry your hair, recalling the comb that lives in Sarah's bathroom drawer. 
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the warmth of the shower does wonders.
you pad down the stairs, only feeling vaguely odd wearing borrowed clothes, smiling as your stomach rolls in hunger - you feel much more composed. 
when you make it down, the dining table is set: four placemats, four plates, cups with orange juice, and three mugs of coffee. you raise a brow, "did I miss the fun?" you ask gently. 
Joel and Sarah are bustling around the kitchen, putting the final touch on breakfast - pancakes, fruit, the works. 
"-fun just arrived, actually." a voice from the hall makes your stomach flip, heat traveling up your neck. Tommy must've gotten home while you were showering. 
you roll your eyes good-naturedly as Tommy comes around the corner from the garage, nodding at you in greeting. "you look nice and cozy." he observes, eyes roving over your figure drowning in Joel's clothes. your lips press together, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach at his observation of your clothing. there is no implication - you're the nanny, it's all innocent, but the look he's giving you is not. as if he knows how Joel makes your heart thud and your mind fuzzy. 
"car broke down." you say quickly, sitting where Sarah directs you. Tommy hums, a look that could be read as skeptical, teasing, flickering across his face. Joel flips a final pancake in the pan, pacing over to slide it onto your plate gently. when he leans over you, he's close enough to ask quietly, "you feel better?"
it's soft, kind, as if he's cautious not to air out your previous breakdown to the others in the room. you're grateful. 
"yes. thank you." you say back, smiling genuinely at the man, eyes roving over the moustache which sits on his upper lip, the beard that's grown in and rises to meet his air-dried curls. he returns to work on another culinary project as Sarah places the fruit on the table and drags Tommy to sit down.
there's a bag that Joel is pouring a mixture into; some kind of meat inside, and you hum. Joel really is a very handsome man. "marinade?" you ask.
he looks over at you, nodding, "yeah, s'for the cookout this weekend." he sets the bowl down, sealing the bag. "you coming?" 
you smile tightly, nodding - any excuse to get outside, to see Joel, Sarah, Tommy, even Michelle and Dan. "should be," you say, anxiously looking over to where your car keys now hang next to Joel's near the front door - he must've hung them up for you while you were upstairs. Joel hums, "good." 
Sarah beams at you when everybody takes a seat. "dad said you get to stay with us until the rain stops." she says, poorly concealing her excitement with a grin. you smile back, nodding as you sip on the coffee poured for you. "yes, ma'am." you respond, stretching your legs out a bit under the table.  
"lucky us," Tommy says through a bite of pancake. you huff at his harmless flirting; you just miss the subtle glare Joel shoots his brother. oblivious, Sarah hums. "I hope it never stops raining!" 
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it eventually does stop raining. 
it's a little before dinner; the air is fresh and damp, the grass that peculiar shade of green against the backdrop of those high thunderclouds that retreat after their previous downpour. with only a light breeze, the air is charged with some kind of electricity as you breathe in the the scent of petrichor it carries with it. 
"right," the voice says next to you.
Joel's arms are propped against your shitty car, his brows furrowed in focus. the engine still glistens with raindrops, and there's a small line of moisture that caught on the fabric of Joel's shirt from where he'd popped the hood of your car. 
"first things first. let's check the battery connections - sometimes they can get loose or corroded." he mutters, directing you with a long, thick finger over to your car battery; you nod, trying your best to pay attention. 
a finger traces along the seam of a smaller edge of the battery terminal, scarcely avoiding touching it. "see this white, powdery stuff?" he's looking at you; it takes you only a split second as you realize he's waiting for you to answer. you nod quickly, "y-yeah." 
he nods, "that’s corrosion. luckily it's not too bad here, but it can cause issues."
you hum, taking a mental note as you bite your lip - thankful that he's taking the time to actually explain what goes on in the inside of your car, seeing as you're next to hopeless.
he gestures again. "d'you know what this is?" he asks, and it's as if god has given you a freebie from your turmoil this morning; you nod, grinning slightly. "it's where you fill the brake fluid." you say in affirmation. "I have some extra in the trunk." you supplement, glad you're not a total idiot when it comes to the car. 
he nods, "been takin' care of that. good girl," he gestures to the side, "these here are spark plugs - good to keep an eye on, because they can get dirty or worn out and cause the car to have trouble starting. these also look alright, though."
you're barely listening, though; your ears are buzzing heartbeat thumping as you school the flush over your cheeks at such a casual praise - something he'd probably not even think twice of, because you're his daughter's babysitter, god damn it, but you can't help the stirring deep within you. 
good girl. jesus.
you press your lips together and force yourself to relax, to calm the fluttering in your stomach the heat in your lower abdomen. eventually, Joel reaches the fuel pump - "here we go. I think this might be the culprit." he turns to you, squinting against the late afternoon sun, "if the fuel pump isn't working properly, it can prevent the engine from getting the fuel it needs to run." 
he gestures for you to look and leans back a bit; leaning over to peer into the belly of your car, at all its metal guts and ominous sputterings, you suddenly catch a scent - a mix of your handlotion you'd applied on the ride over with Joel's soap from his shower stuck to your skin and wafting in the air, a pleasant smell.
your stomach flutters as you try to follow Joel's explanation, "'kay...how can you tell it's the fuel pump that's the problem?" you ask him, turning to squint up at him. 
"there's-" another gentle breeze, then, and Joel pauses; you stare back at him, unsure what's caught his attention, but then it's over quicker than it started. blinking at you, he clears his throat and nods, pointing to the part, "there’s a few ways, but mainly if your car cranked out while drivin', or if it starts an' then stalls, it's often a sign of a fuel pump problem." he taps it with two fingers, "this one looks pretty worn out."
you bite your lip, cursing your ignorance and the stupidity of your ex for insisting on taking care of the car jut to completely ignore it and take it for an oil change only every few blue moons. 
"can it be fixed?" you can't hide the anxiety in your voice. 
"course." Joel nods, closing the hood; you don't flinch at the sound, too worried by the engine. "'m not quite good enough to do it myself, but i've got a buddy down in town that can do it for ya for cheap." he smiles gently, "should only be a few hundred." 
your throat dries, stomach dropping. "c-couple hundred?" you hiss, pressing your lips together. "okay."
okay.
okay: you can take a few more shifts at the library, double up your days; that's fine, that's fine. you'll have to fix your car before your cellphone, but you'll be fine without texting for a while. maybe you could sell your portable CD player or some clothes for some cash. okay, shit. 
shit. 
you laugh mirthlessly, "I... I don't have that kind of money right now." you say awkwardly, "but at least I live close to the bus stop." you add, wondering how much a bus pass is. certainly less than that. 
"-listen, i'd be happy to help you out with it," Joel says, and your hackles raise in embarrassment, "-no, Joel, I can't ask that of you. you've already done so much." you say, looking down at yourself, still clad in his flannel and pants. 
he shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "could pay you advance. let me help you." 
you swallow thickly, biting your lip. "I feel bad, Joel. I already put you out." 
"hey," he says, turning to look at you - he leans slightly on the hood of your car, gaze burning into the side of your face. you flush, but meet his eyes. "don't worry about it. I can pay you ahead for your work to cover for it. all you've put me out on is a few pancakes, a cup of coffee, and my patience with my brother."
the mention of Tommy makes you flush with embarrassment, floundering, "oh. Joel, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 
he shakes his head, with a grin - he was teasing you. "Tommy's always been a flirt. I trust you can handle your own." he adds, "but you let me know if he's too much, yeah?"
something about his tone makes you even more flustered, though, and you grin, shrugging. "yeah. you'll be the first to know." you say, wondering how many people he's had to say that to in his life. 
he says nothing to this, but you clear your throat, looking at him, "um...thank you for your help. this morning, with the car- all of it." you say, smiling awkwardly, "i've had a hard time adjusting to a lot of recent...life changes and..." you feel like you're oversharing, so you stop short, "just. you've all been very kind to me." you finish. "i'm so thankful for this job." 
Joel watches you, gaze flickering between your eyes for a few moments before he nods, "'course, darlin'. life can throw some curveballs, huh?" he nudges your shoulder and as you sway back you can't help the soft smile that grows, hiding it as you look away. darlin'.  
"you're doing great, though. Sarah and I, we're glad to have you." he affirms. you smile into the metal of your car hood.
"let’s get your car started now, yeah?" he asks. 
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you're sat in the driver's seat.
Joel leans through the window to hold down the switch on your steering wheel as you turn the keys, the small Tamagotchi on your keychain knocking against your wrist as he instructs you to pump the gas pedal. 
after a few tries the engine sputters to life; you let out a stuttered sigh of relief, smiling and letting out one small clap. 
Joel smiles, "there she is," he taps the dash above your steering wheel with the flat of his large palm, leaning slightly. as he turns to lean out the window, his eyes meet yours - face to face, he's much closer than either of you anticipated.
you're struck with the proximity; for a moment, his face is inches from yours. 
and then the moment stretches out, your heart skipping a beat - you can see the few freckles that have grown over the bridge of his strong nose, the way his breath leaves his lips, the smile lines and faint dimple, his eyelashes lit from the sun behind you. 
Joel clears his throat, stepping back from the window with a tap to the roof of your car. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"alright, you’re all set. just drive carefully, okay? let the engine run for a few minutes when you get home."
you nod, voice softer than you hoped it'd be, "I will. thanks again, Joel."
he nods in that way he always does, the same nod that you always see in Sarah. "be safe. see you tomorrow."
Joel leans against his truck as you peel away, off the side of the road and joining the sparse few cars on the road, the remaining rainwater slicking against tires in the distance. you swear you see him wave before he slips up into the cab of the truck, figure growing smaller in your rearview with each passing moment. 
you let the car run when you return to your apartment, biting your lip dumbly and staring down at your ruined phone, at the warped message that sits on your screen.
 
Call me if you need a ride in the morning- Sarah and I can pick you up. 
Have a good night. Joel
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there is no longer a taglist; follow @tremendumnotifs to be notified when i post.
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135 notes · View notes
chaconnewon · 14 days
Note
could u write about jake eating the reader out?
hello anon! thanks for your request and being the first <3 i hope you like it and it fills your expectatives.
skilled ─── s.jy
pairing: friend!jake x fem!reader wc: 1.1k tags: oral(female reciving), friends to ???, slightly hair pulling, mention of reader daydreaming, insinuation of a second round, lmk if i missed something !!
There was one thing you knew for sure: Jake was pretty good at everything. Even if it was his first time trying, he would accomplish the task successfully. He seemed to have the luck by his side, always impressing those who surrounded him. 
You were sceptical at first when he invited you to his place to show how good he can play piano. You’ve never seen him play piano or any other instrument. Even though the countless times you’ve been at his house, you didn’t see any of them. Was he trying to impress you? You above all the girls that were drooling behind him? 
But he was fucking right.
He played the piano in a way your stomach could flip. It didn’t feel like he just quickly learned the basics, he sounded smooth, confident while pressing the keys. Like he has been taking lessons since always.
Of course you couldn’t keep your mind quiet, and soon found yourself wondering if Jake was skilled at bed too. You felt ashamed to think like that about your friend but you couldn’t help it, how tempting those lips looked, or how pretty his slender, veiny fingers were while doing barely anything. You thought quietly, like somehow he could read your mind, if his finger could feel good inside you. 
‘’y/n, are you listening to me?’’
‘’Uhm… yeah!’’
Not at all. You were lost at the sight of his computer screen, a video game lobby showing up. You bet he was ranting about other players but your mind replayed his finger tensing on the keyboard, smashing them slightly whenever he died or his teammates made something useless.
Jake saw you peeking his hands very often. 
When he sighed, leaning back on his chair you sat up on his bed, fingers playing with nervousness on your lap.
‘’I’ve been thinking… Are you that good at everything?’’
‘’Are we having this conversation again, y/n?’’ he chuckles, shaking his head.
‘’No, no! I mean everything.’’ you emphasise that last word, softly raising your eyebrows as if doing that could give a hint of what was crossing your mind.
And honestly, you couldn’t tell if he was being clueless or just messing with you. Jake was a keen person, and both of you knew that.
‘’I told you, I am.’’
‘’Like… at everything?’’
‘’Wanna find out?’’
You suddenly felt breathless. Sharp gaze of his locked on your eyes. Was he messing around? Didn’t look like it as he left his comfy position of his chair to get closer to you. Still in your spot at his bed, you looked up to meet his gaze once again, but something was different. Jake’s eyes darkened a bit as he knelt in front of you.
‘’Jake…?’’ you softly called him, tilting your head.
‘’You know… I’m not just good with my brain, or hands. Let me show you, and I’m sure you won't ask again.’’
Like if you were under some kind of spell you nodded, gaining a smirk from him. His hands flew quickly at your waistband, asking without a word with your permission. You gave it to him, and soon found himself unbuttoning your pants and sliding them through your legs, leaving them forgotten somewhere on the floor.
Jake took you by your thighs and pulled them closer to him, blushing your cheeks hot red. He helped you spread your legs, both of your ankles pinned down the mattress. Your hands held your weight, expectant for his next move.
Jake’s lips pressed softly on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of kisses before reaching your underwear. He repeated the same action on your left leg, his hands never leaving your things. Until now.
One of his fingers hooked the hem of your panties, slid it to the side, and took a look at your wet cunt. How embarrassing. You were wet just for a few kisses there and here. But in reality you knew that wetness came from before, while you daydream about his fingers minutes ago. Your chest felt heavy as you tried to control your breath, hands gripping slightly on his bed sheets. His free hand went directly to recollect some of your arousal and spread it on your folds, rubbing slowly your clit.
You held back a moan, biting your bottom lip. Jake led his coated fingers inside his mouth and hummed at your sweet taste.
‘’God, I bet it tastes better directly from your pussy.’’
Your legs felt like jelly at his words, and you found yourself throwing back your head as soon as his wet and warm tongue started to make wonders between your folds. He hummed, sending vibrations to your core that made you arch your back.
As you gripped tightly his bed sheets, Jake didn’t stop working on your wet core, rubbing with the tip of his tongue your clit, sending jolts through your whole body.
He was pretty good at it, switching between your swollen clit and your entrance, tempting to pull his tongue further. Your free hand grabbed his nape hair, his name leaving your lips as your eyes were shut. 
‘’Fuck, f–feels so good Jake.’’ You could almost feel his grin appearing on his lips. He knew right. ‘’Please don’t s–stop.’’
He didn’t tho.
Jake held you close, pinning one of your legs down for a better access, even if that meant your legs were wide open. But you couldn't care less. The feeling was worth it, almost intoxicating to the point you started to rub your core against his tongue. The moment Jake sucked you sensitive bundle, immediately tugged his hair, earring a groan from him.
Even if he was suffocating, both of his tongue and nose-tip rubbing your clit, he couldn’t stop. Your squirming body, broken moans falling from your lips kept him going, digging his nails into your flesh. 
‘’I’m so close, s–so close…!’’
‘’Cum in my mouth, pretty. Go on, let it go.’’
Took you a few licks to come on his mouth, tensing all your body as he kept doing his work, helping you to reach your highest point though your orgasm. Maybe you pulled his hair a bit harsh but, in fact, he liked it. 
Your tired body lies on his bed, legs still shaking and you breach unable to catch. You felt his hands caressing your thighs, his cheek leaning onto your inner thigh.
‘’Are you okay…?’’
‘’Jesus… It was amazing.’’
You heard Jake chuckled.
‘’Take a moment to rest and then I want you to open your mouth for me. ‘Gonna fuck that pretty mouth of yours.’’
87 notes · View notes
egrets-not-regrets · 3 months
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Dandelions and Yarrow (1)
Dandelions and yarrow are both tough, hardy weeds that can grow under harsh conditions.
Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior) makes the mistake of nearly breaking his bond with Amelia, his bonded human.
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Author’s Note: TW: smut, noncon, dubcon, angst. This chapter is all hurt, no comfort. You are warned.
Just a few points:
This takes place before Ben/Malaran “Orca” Blackspike storyline.
Amelia is bonded to Alcyon, a chaos Iron Warrior. These two share an intense bond that teeters on the point of becoming a mate bond.
Alcyon has a pretty good grasp of the english language. He usually communicates with Amelia in english and other Astartes in Gothic.
Thanks to @squishyowl for the divider image!
OCs: Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior), Amelia Plover
Tagged: @shadowfirecat, @kit-williams, @bleedingichorhearts, @barn-anon, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan
@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual, @ms--lobotomy
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The meaning of 'heartbreak’ had been all but foreign to him before, but now he understood what it meant as soon as he saw the shattered look in Amelia’s eyes directed at him. Alcyon knew that she had received the news about being banned from her son’s school. 
“Alcyon! Why did you do it? Why did you have to fight him? I told you not to!” Amelia didn’t know where to even start with him on this anymore. The news broke her. Meeting Ben at his school before her ex came to pick him up was the only way she could see her son.    
Crossing his arms, the chaos Iron Warrior bristled and gave a disgruntled huff, “I could have killed the Black Templar. By right of challenge, I would have won your boy back for you had they not stopped me.”
“But they did stop you from killing him and now we both are banned from Ben’s school!” Amelia’s temper rose. 
“You shouldn’t have challenged him! I told you repeatedly to not do this and make the situation worse! It’s not that simple!” she added angrily. Amelia had never argued with Alcyon like this. She never wanted to argue with him like this, but she needed him to see, to understand how much his fight with the Black Templar cost her. 
“How is it not that simple? We could have simply taken your son at any point and you can have him back”
“Human laws don't make it simple!” Amelia nearly yelled at him out of frustration.
“I am bonded to you! In the eyes of human law, I am, to some degree, responsible for you too! What they see is MY chaos Astartes going out of control, starting a fight, and nearly killing a loyalist Astartes at my son’s school!” Her heart hurt, her head hurt, she didn’t want to continue. Why couldn’t her Astartes understand this? 
The chaos Iron Warrior replied, “You don’t control me.” 
“Of course I don’t, but that’s not how the human lawmakers see it.” Amelia breathed a vexed sigh trying to calm down. This argument was getting tiresome, she couldn’t remember the number of times they’ve talked about this. She knew her Astartes had done this on her behalf but she warned him time and time again not to, “I don’t even know why we’re still arguing about this. It’s too late for that now.” She grimaced. 
Amelia straightened out the order that she held crumpled in her fist, despairing as she read through the damning letter again. What was she to do now?
“We’ll have another chance to get your son back.”
His words locked around her chest tightly. She grit her teeth, trying hard not to cry from the whirlwind of emotions inside, “We won’t have another chance. Even if there was, you won’t be helping me.”
She could hear Alcyon’s quiet growl building, “What did you say?”
Amelia whirled on him, eyes blazing with fury and angry tears sliding unchecked down her face, “I said, ‘Even if I had another chance, I won’t be asking you for help!’”
The volume in her voice rose as she continued, “You lost my last chance to see Ben again, because you didn’t listen! How could I even trust you to not mess up next time?!” 
“Mess up?” Alcyon snapped at her, “Mess up?! I only took action because you kept crying about being stopped at every turn because of the laws and that damned family of his!”
“That’s exactly why we couldn’t meet them with violence! Because they are spiteful enough that they will throw the law at us and now they have the excuse of saying you are a danger to Ben due to your fight with his father’s Black Templar. Moreover, the law will always be biased against chaos Astartes and you are no exception! Why couldn’t you understand that?!”
Alcyon’s frustration grew the more Amelia said. It wasn’t his fault that the Black Templar and that family of hers kept her son away. He was the one who had supported her from the time she had accepted that he had bonded to her. And now she didn’t want his help because he made this one mistake? 
He sneered, “Don’t you dare blame me for that son of Dorn keeping your son away from you.”
“You are partially to blame! If you didn’t fight and nearly kill him, we wouldn’t be banned from the school! I wouldn't be in this mess!” she spat, too emotionally exhausted to keep her temper in check. 
“Then you shouldn’t have kept complaining about the inept human laws that you like to play with! At least I did something about it!” the Iron Warrior retorted.
Her anger boiled over, “I didn’t need you to do anything about it! I didn’t want you to do anything about it! Sometimes I wonder why I’m even bonded to you in the first place!” Amelia’s eyes widened and her expression turned pained, even she couldn’t believe the harsh words that came out of her mouth, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Ignoring her stuttered apology, Alcyon snarled back at her, “I didn’t ask to be bonded to you. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be bound to a simpering weakling like you!”
He knew that his words hurt. Judging by the agonized expression she wore, his words stabbed in all the right places. She didn’t want his help? He’s the one who’s taken action to get her son back! He’s the one who gave her the chance to visit her son again! How dare she be so ungrateful! Alcyon angrily ignored the voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to stop, that they won’t be able to walk back their words after this. So occupied by his resentment and anger, he couldn’t feel their bond slowly come apart, thread snapping by fragile thread.
Amelia felt her heart crack and regrets started to bleed from it. 
“I never asked for you to be bonded to me either. You could’ve left me alone, you should’ve stayed away!” She wiped her eyes angrily, “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up in my life!”
Another thread snapped. 
“You’re the one who accepted our bond! You wanted it! Had you not, you’d still be that lonely little human woman yearning for a big Astartes save her and warm her bed at night, because her own husband wouldn’t bother to fuck her!” Alcyon resentfully pointed out. 
Amelia glared at him, speechless with anger and mortification. 
“I heard what they said about you… the whore who prefers the company of chaos demons rather than her own family.” He sneered. 
“I do not…!” She spluttered in embarrassment, “I am not a whore!”
The Iron Warrior looked infuriatingly smug despite the hurt, “That’s not what you moaned when I fucked you.”
A few more threads loosened. 
Feeling humiliated beyond tears, Amelia growled low, “Get. Out.” 
“No. This place is mine as much as it is yours.” He replied stubbornly. 
“Fine. Then I’ll go! I can’t deal with you right now.” Amelia knew this was going nowhere and immediately yielded. She started walking away only to be roughly yanked back into place, plastered against the wall. Her arm, held tightly in his claw. Amelia froze, not daring to struggle lest the metal claw cut into her flesh. 
“I’m not done with you!” Alcyon growled. A dark desire in him wanted to see her fight back so he would have reason to scorch her in return. 
A number of threads singed and sizzled as it burnt away.
“What else do you want from me? To be thanked?” Amelia asked, indignation and hurt seeping into her voice. 
She snapped, “Well thank you for losing the last chance I have to see my son again!”
“Don’t take that tone with me!” He roared back.
Amelia screamed when Alcyon’s heavy metal claw slammed into the wall a few inches from her cheek. Sharp metal tips dug deep into the plaster; a stark frightening reminder of how dangerous Alcyon actually was. The red lenses on the chaos marine’s face glowed with a malignant energy as he loomed over her.  
“Good. You should remember to be afraid.” Alcyon leered at her, a sense of dark satisfaction washing over him as he watched terrified tears run down Amelia’s face. 
Another few threads broke. 
“You act as if this one mistake of mine is a world ending tragedy and wipes away everything else I had done for you!” He hissed disdainfully. 
Not even giving her a chance to reply, Alcyon continued, “Everything I had done up until now had always been for you! Always!” Spite and anger built in his chest, “And you dismiss me like some misbehaving pet?!”
“I never treated you like that! If you feel like I treat you like some pet, take off your collar then! Leave me! I can’t stop you!” She spat back, “I won’t stop you!”
She was right. He knew he could leave. He knew she couldn’t stop him. What could Amelia even do? She was such a weak creature. But something stopped him, did he actually want to leave? 
“We already said we don’t want to be bonded to each other. Then we don’t need to stay in whatever this.. this… whatever this is then!” Amelia angrily cried. 
To break this bond tethering him to Amelia’s existence seemed completely abhorrent to him. Even if he didn’t have a choice in who he was bonded to, the thought of her not wanting to stay by his side made Alcyon’s chest feel tight. 
“I can’t believe I loved you.” She said hoarsely, sorrow cracking through her voice, “I thought…”
Several more threads from the bond snapped.
His hearts shouldn’t have clenched like that when he heard her say it. The Iron Warrior dismissed the feeling with a scoff, “You’re delusional. There was never love. We are bonded. You are simply just mine.”
She glared at him through her tears, “We may be bonded, but I am not yours.”
That sentence echoed in his ear. 
More strands broke. 
“You don’t mean that.” Alcyon hissed through gritted teeth. The defiance in her words made something twist and shear inside. How dare she say that. She was his. She was his. Amelia was bonded to him and him only. She was his! That thought ran rampant in his mind.
“You don’t mean that.” The chaos marine suddenly pinned his human to the table, one hand trapping her wrists above her head, his teeth caressing her throat. Amelia cried out from the impact, her body spasmed in pain. 
“Tell me you don’t mean that.” He growled. Amelia idly wondered if Alcyon would tear her throat out if she told him otherwise. 
More threads strained and snapped. 
“Say it!” He snarled and bit down hard. 
Amelia mewled, her body instinctively reacting by arching into his. Instinctively wanting more. Her skin prickled at their heightened sensitivity. A weak moan escaped her as he sucked on the tender mark. 
“Tell me, Amelia. Tell me, you are mine. Your body certainly knows it.” She could feel him smirk against her flushed skin. She tried to bite back another whine at the heat and pressure of his body pressed flush to her own, her hips pushing back when he started rolling his hips against hers. It always started like this… she thought as her mind started to fog. 
Appalled at her own reaction, Amelia panicked. She twisted her hips away, bringing a knee up to push his body off her. Her arms strained to free themselves from the tight clasp of his hand.
She started screaming, “NO! Get off— mmngh!” He silenced her with a rough kiss, his tongue wrestling down her own. A frustrating rage in him grew at her defiance. She kept denying that she belonged to him. She was his as he was hers. They were bonded. He won’t allow her to deny the fact any longer. He’ll remind her who she is bonded to. 
“No.” The chaos marine sneered, his grip holding Amelia’s wrists together tightened, his claw grabbed her leg, easily moving it back to the side of his hips, forcing her to lay on her back facing him once more. She winced in discomfort. 
“Your words deny it, but your body and soul remembers. I will make you remember!” He angrily growled into her mouth, the vibration from it causing another unwanted arc of pleasure to course through her body. In one quick movement, Alcyon’s metal claw effortlessly shreds through her clothing. The torn clothes fell apart, leaving behind thin bleeding welts where his claw swiped against her bare torso. 
More threads were sliced from the bond. 
Amelia's eyes widened with fear as she started to struggle in earnest, “No! Alcyon! Let me g-!” His mouth was on hers again in an instant, cutting off her protests. She tried to turn her head away. He bit hard onto her bottom lip, warning her to be still. She whined in response before he promptly stole her breath again. 
“Stop, Alcyon! Please sto-!” Amelia begged as soon as their mouths parted. 
She could see every scar in detail around the lens implant as they stayed nose to nose, “Even if you deny it, you know that you’re mine.” Alcyon harshly whispered, “You will always be mine.”
He grabbed her hair and pulled her head to one side before biting down hard onto an old mark, drawing blood. Amelia keened wordlessly, tears leaking from her eyes as the pain added to the heated pleasure within her own traitorous body. She knew that this was a natural reaction, but she couldn’t help but wish that her body didn’t betray her like this. 
With a pleased growl, the chaos Iron Warrior licked the blood from the wound then kissed her. An unbidden moan left her throat as the bitter iron salt of her blood passed between their tongues. 
“Your body is more honest isn’t it?” Alcyon laughs sardonically against her lips. He could smell his human’s arousal right when he pinned her under him, the heady scent getting stronger as he continued to mark her. His teeth nipped and worried her sensitive skin down toward her breast, soaking in all her involuntary gasps and twitching muscles as he laid his claim onto her flesh. 
Amelia flushed with shame and regret. She wished she had never had slept with Alcyon, if only so that he would not know her body as well as he did. She regretted that she allowed her relationship with the Iron Warrior to become this intimate. She regretted that she had fallen in love with him. 
More threads dissolved. 
He bit down hard onto her breast, his sharp teeth sinking into the soft tissue. Amelia bit her lip to stop another whine from escaping, her hands stiffened into claws as Alcyon’s tongue licked up the blood that had beaded up from the wound.  
He gave the same treatment to her other breast, further sucking and teething her nipple into a hard peak. 
“No..! Alcy— ohhhn!” Her throat was tight as she let out a strangled moan, her pussy clenching around nothing. Amelia flattened her back against the table and tried to curl into herself, trying to shirk away from his touch. The chaos marine let out a feral, displeased growl. He grabbed her thighs and slotted her roughly against him, forcing her legs to spread wide to accommodate for the width of his muscled bulk. His metal claw dug into her back, the pain forcing Amelia to arch her spine, pushing more of her breast into his mouth; her breath shuddering and her hips thrusting involuntarily, rubbing her aching core against his pelvis as he sucked and nipped bruises onto her sensitive flesh. 
“No more… please Alcyon.” Amelia begged.  Shame filled her being as she could feel her cunt becoming slick with her juices. 
Alcyon ignored her pleas and groaned at the scent of her deepened arousal mixed with the iron in her blood, his own cock hardening within his pants from rutting against her hot wet core. He could feel the twitches of her muscles and hear her near silent moans and involuntary gasps as Amelia tried desperately to stop reacting to his touch. He will make her fall. He will make her remember. 
This time he will leave his marks so others could see who she belonged to. Alcyon bit her neck again, sinking his teeth just below her jawline. 
Her shame and regret flashed into anger. “Stop it!!!” She snarled, whipping up a freed hand to strike his face. 
Alcyon caught her hand and roughly forced it onto the table again, “Say it, Amelia. Say that you are mine.” He demanded, his eye darkened with feral lust and possessiveness heavy in his voice. 
She was beautiful, pinned helplessly below him, glaring at him with rage simmering under the surface. He could see Amelia’s heightened pulse flutter underneath her fragile skin. Bruises forming where he marked over and blood beading out from marks that broke skin. Her breasts heaved as she struggled to steady her breathing.
Amelia bared her teeth at him in anger and contempt, “Leave me alone! I can’t stand the sight of you! I hate you.”
He felt it then. It was as if someone reached into his chest and grabbed a bundle of threads that made up the core of his bond and brutally ripped them out. Sharp agonizing pain stabbed into his hearts as each thread snapped and broke, as if they were once attached to them. Alcyon stared at her, reeling from the sudden shock of pain. Amelia took the chance to slip out from under him and ran into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. 
The chaos warrior shook himself out of it, that shock of pain quickly settling to a dull ache as resentment soon took over. Alcyon turned to follow his human when the shine of the intricate metal fish on the table caught his attention. It was a gift he made for Amelia that she treasured. Eyeing the fish figurine with spiteful hostility, he crushed it in his hand and flung it against the wall, shattering it into pieces. 
Amelia’s sobs were quiet and muffled, but even they couldn’t escape from his keen hearing. Every cell in his body was compelling him to respond to his bonded human’s sorrowful cries; to comfort her, to apologize, to rebuild the threads of the bond that’s been broken. Alcyon ground his teeth hard, fighting against the compulsion. The Iron Warrior ignored it all and stormed out of their home, slamming the door so hard it nearly took the door off its hinges. 
Alcyon was long gone by the time Amelia crept out from the bedroom. Teary-eyed, but fully dressed again, Amelia cautiously made her way back to the living room, still wary that the chaos warrior was still lurking somewhere in their home. More and more cracks formed in her heart as she looked at the evidence of their fight: the gouge marks in the wall, the scratch marks, the torn strips of her clothes that laid on the table. She whimpered and hissed when her own body reminded her of Alcyon’s cuts and bite marks on her. But that hurt couldn’t compare to heart wrenching pain when she found the shattered remnants of her beloved fish figurine. 
Amelia remembered Alcyon had made it for her: a beautiful and surprisingly intricate piece of art that came from his rough and metal hands. She loved it so much. It reminded her of her son’s favourite creatures… and what she mistakenly thought was Alcyon’s love for her. Tears started to roll down her cheeks again as she painstakingly picked up the remains, piece by shattered piece.  
A particularly sharp fragment of the fish sliced into her finger, the sudden shock of pain causing her already shaky hand to drop the pieces she just collected. Sliding down the wall, her hand fisted around the pieces that didn’t fall, Amelia curled into herself in anguish. Letting out a grief-stricken wail, she wept bitterly. 
58 notes · View notes
sentientgopro · 1 year
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If there's one thing I wanna bring with me from Reddit, It's r/legoguns.
Now that I'm getting off reddit, there's one thing I wanna bring with me and it's this subreddit and idea, it doesn't seem to really exist on Tumblr. Here's some of my designs, and some of the best of other people's, with credit. All of mine can be realistically built with full functionality (mag release, charging handle, etc.)
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MK18 of mine
Okay, when i first posted i forgot a "keep reading" button lmao. Heres 1 image as an eyecatcher though. 29 more to go.
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Different kinda M4 built on same reciever
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PPSH41.
Onto other people's far superior stuff.
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"3rd version of my AUG" by u/vipeDoesStuff
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"Messed around with the idea of a Nine- Tailed Fox issued M4 rifle" By u/Foxlegofirearms
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"glOwOck" by u/VipeDoesStuff. Pure perfection.
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"Lego AWM!" By u/JimsLegoGuns. Also on YT under the same name, has some tutorials that are a great place to start when learning the general conventions of designing these things.
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"The Stoner Family" by u/FoxsLegoFirearms
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"My custom UMP-45 haven't posted the irl version" By u/_xMr__
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"4 generations of Aks" By u/FoxsLegoFirearms
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"Sig Sauer M18" By u/VipeDoesStuff
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"Finally made my 3a1 Carbine IRL" by u/JimsLegoGuns
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"Glock 17" by u/VipeDoesStuff
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"Glock 19 gen 5 MOS and a custom knife. Kinda EDC- ish." By u/jacqo_B
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"Family photo (yes I like John Wick)" By u/FrostTGA
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"TTI Pit Viper" By u/FrostTGA
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"Contractor .308 from Payday 2" By u/VipeDoesStuff
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"You want to see what 4 years of researching, time, effort, learning and pain looks like? Here you go." by u/FoxsLegoFirearms
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"Lego P90" by u/edups2
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"Some BO2 builds from a while ago" By u/edups2
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"The 7 Gun" By u/BallsHD4K60fps
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"Cock 19, sadly no balls" By u/BallsHD4K60fps.
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"LEGO M4 MW SKELETONIZED" By u/edups2
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"Lego Call Of Duty Zombies Ray Gun" by u/NickBrick
Aand thats image limit. Damn, I got carried away with that. Ive been picking very specifically too, there's ALOT of better stuff than just this that ive missed. Just take a little look through the r/legoguns sub. Anyway, I'm hoping these are gonna get some new people interested in this sorta thing, or increase the amount they're being posted on Tumblr. Lego guns sounds ridiculous but once you see how good they can be, it starts making more sense. So, I'm gonna tag this with #Lego guns in the hopes that it catches on. Thanks for reading. Including all Migration tags too, and 196 bc why not.
187 notes · View notes
girlygguk · 1 year
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sour straws - jjk (a fame drabble)
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pairing ; idol!jk x idol!oc
synopsis ; siren is getting attention, hanna is freaking out, and aera runs into a wide-eyed puppy dog at the corner store.
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previous chapters ; prologue | one | two | three | four | five | ...
warnings ; some strong language
content ; aera & siren are going viral, a jaera fluffy piece
word count ; 2.3k
lowercase intended / unedited
a/n: thank u guys sm for enjoying the story! here's a drabble to tie us over until the next chapter, love u all xx
the video of aera mentioned in this drabble ; click here
taglist ; (crossed out = can't tag💔) @0anodite0 @heartjiminie @aloverga @cuntessaiii @adeptiixiao @yourallaround-simp @kaitieskidmore1 @captain_neo2526
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date: april 2016 ; a week or so after the events of chapter two
thump.
"what the fuck?" aera spluttered in a tired daze, lifting her head to stare at a groggy ha-joon glaring at her from her side of the room. she had launched her pillow at the elder girl and was now clambering off her bed to retrieve it.
"your phone won't stop buzzing, and you just slept right through it," the maknae grumbled, "it's our sleep-in day! please for the love of god—" joonie's pleading was cut off ironically by another vibration of aera's phone. aera swore she saw joonie's eye twitch at the noise.
"okay, okay. calm down, she-hulk," aera huffed, leaning over and grabbing her phone from the bedside table to silence the device. a pleased kim ha-joon waddled back to her bed with her pillow sandwiched in her arms before flopping onto the mattress. she was asleep again within seconds.
wiping the sleep from her eyes, aera tapped on the screen of her phone to awaken it and sighed at the 8:34 am that blared back at her. she had only gotten to bed at four in the morning after working on a new arrangement for their album with han-na yesterday. no wonder she slept through the alerts.
aera swiped through her notification centre in confusion, seeing dozens of comments on all her socials, but twitter was the most prominent. she opened the app and a low, shocked gasp escaped her mouth when the trending tab caught her eye.
trending in south korea
2 — #HwangAera
she could feel her pulse in her throat, wondering if this had something to do with their performance at gayo daejejeon last week. did she mess up and not notice? was everyone making fun of her? eyebrows pinched in utter confusion, aera tapped on the hashtag and waited for it to load with a heavy heart.
she recognised a few of their most active allures' accounts at the top of the feed and felt exponentially more at ease.
'@ asamislove: 1/1000 reasons to stan siren: #hwangaera'
[ video attached ] 
jesus, aera thought. she last saw that video when it was posted on their company's socials at the beginning of 2015. it was one of the recordings she took to send to their vocal coach when she and the girls were given techniques to work on. it barely garnered views when it was posted, the majority of the audience being dedicated allures, and if we're being honest - there are very few of those. why is the video getting attention now?
aera scrolled for a few minutes; eyes still squinted with fatigue while she spam liked every post she saw. she couldn't believe that so many people were sharing the video - people that had no idea who she even was. her teeth rolled her lower lip back and forth in angst as she read through all the praise for herself and siren alongside the video.
'@ moonlightmomo: wow yall are FAKE for not telling me about siren sooner #hwangaera #siren'
[ video attached² ] 
'@ sirenstepstool: may i remind you all that this is their main DANCER? yea hurry up go stan #mywife #hwangaera #siren'
[ video attached³ ] 
she felt her heart race again as her gaze shifted from her phone to her roommate, watching as the blonde clutched her pillow, soft snores blowing through her lips as she slept. deciding not to wake the sleeping devil just yet, she sat up and quietly threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before tiptoeing out of their dorm, en route to bother someone else who would, without a doubt, be awake. jang han-na.
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"ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!" han-na cried, scrolling through the seemingly endless retweets of aera’s video on twitter, a shit-eating grin adorning her lips. "of course it's you who goes viral. we all sent in similar videos. bitch." the elder jokes, giggling when aera delivers a wack to her hoodie-clad arm.
aera and hanna are currently sitting outside of the park entertainment building, perched against the wall of the structure, reading through all of the comments on their social medias. this was aera's go-to spot when she needed a moment to herself, or if she had to talk to someone on the phone without the four of her nosy sisters sniffing around to see who it was. the younger of the two had hummed in thought when hanna asked if she came out here often as she followed behind her. a moment passed before aera shook her head, a lousy "just thought it looked nice," leaving her lips in response.
"they're talking about us, unnie. like everywhere." aera spoke in shock, now on instagram, seeing how the mentions of their group's hashtag had more than quadrupled in the span of a few hours.
hanna nodded, eyes not even tearing away from her phone to respond, "our music video views are going up too. oh my god, our followers. two hundred thous- fuck i need to call dae-jungnim. i feel like i'm going to puke." aera watched in amusement as hanna scrambled to her feet, dashing inside to head for the office and call their director.
the cool breeze of the morning air nipped at the remaining girl's skin as she pulled her knees closer to her chest, head falling back slightly to rest against the building behind her. her phone was balanced on her knees as she lifted a hand to tap on it and check the time. 9:03 am. she had an hour before she had to head to practice.
her tiredness was suddenly forgotten as she sent hanna a text saying she was going for a walk and would return before practice started. aera shoved her phone in the pocket of her sweatpants before heading towards her favourite corner shop.
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the bell above their local convenience store door whistled as aera entered the shop. she waved politely to heejin, the owner's daughter, who returned the gesture with a cheesy smile. aera was mid-walk toward the candy aisle, head down as she checked her bank app on her phone to avoid her card declining at the checkout, when her body came in contact with a wall.
"aish," she cursed under her breath as her phone slipped from her hand. it was, in fact, not a wall that she ran into, but instead a person. a white shirt and black sweatpants adorned his figure as he scrambled to pick up her phone that slid across the floor.
he shifted the two mini bottles of banana-flavoured milk and bag of sour straws into his left hand before leaning down and grabbing her cell phone off the floor with his right. aera's eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the back of the stranger's head, wondering why he looked so familiar. when he bent back up and turned to face her, she then realised why.
"oh shit, aera! hey! sorry, i was in a rush," jungkook apologised, handing the girl's phone back when he reached her. while she was checking the device for any new defects, she gave up with a heavy sigh. it was hopeless to identify any new marks, the screen was already covered in cracks.
"no, don't apologise," aera shook her head, "i wasn't looking where i was going. and this thing is a piece of shit. i'd probably thank you if you broke it."
jungkook lifted his eyes back to aera's face after shamelessly trailing down her outfit when she was inspecting her phone. sweatpants and a hoodie is his favourite outfit on her, she always looked so warm. he smiled at her lightheartedness before speaking, "what are you here for?" he knew what she was getting, what she always gets, but he asked for the sake of it.
her eyes dropped to the candy in his left hand, and he watched with a smirk as her eyes squinted at him. "hm, i wonder," she rolled her eyes teasingly, resuming her trek to the confectionary aisle. and he followed.
"you little shit," aera gasped when she reached the section that hung her favourite sweets. completely empty.
his smirk was yet to leave his face as he watched her spin to face him. "last bag," he nodded before faking a pout. she shook her head in disbelief, "you don't even like them!" she was right. he didn't. but she loved them. and he might be trying to build a tolerance for them.
"i don't know what you're talking about, these are my favourite." he lied, suppressing a laugh when her face contorted into a confused gape.
"you are evil." she whined, turning away and walking further down the aisle. and he followed.
"i'd be happy to give them to you," he offered simply. at that, she whipped around at record speed, staring at him with hope.
"really?"
"mhm."
"okay," she nodded, holding her hand out, "gimmie."
he nodded along, holding the candy out towards her. aera reached for the bag but before it was in her grasp, he pulled his hand back swiftly.
"for something in return."
a soft whine left her lips at his childishness, her arm dropping to her side. "you're so annoying," she scoffed through a chuckle. "what do you want?"
"come for a walk with me," he shrugged, tongue poking out to wet his dry lips while he watched her eyes roll back, one of her biggest habits.
"now?"
"yeah."
"i can't, i have practice at 10." but of course jungkook knew that. he knew her schedule to a T, memorising her ridiculous rehearsal hours so he knew when she would most likely respond to his texts.
"it's," he grabbed his phone from his trousers to check the time, "only ten past nine! that's plenty of time."
"you are insufferable," aera lied, taking the sour straws from his hand before turning on her heels and heading to the refrigerators. once again, like a lost fucking puppy, he followed.
she grabbed a bottle of dragonfruit vitamin water from the fridge, "c'mon then," she said softly before heading to the checkout.
aera was in the middle of making small talk with heejin when jungkook reached them. heejin rang up aera's order and as she stepped toward the eftpos machine, jungkook plopped his drinks onto the counter and slid ₩25k toward the owner's daughter. heejin smiled before cancelling the eftpos transaction and put the cash through the register.
"jungkook." aera's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, watching as he waved his hand in a keep-the-change motion before thanking heejin and grabbing the groceries. aera thanked the girl as well before walking through the door that he held open, stepping into seoul's brisk morning air.
jungkook handed aera her drink and sour candy before cracking the lid on one of his banana milks and taking a big swig. he offered her a sip as they walked next to each other, but she shook her head, already tearing into the bag of sour straws.
pulling two out of the bag, she stopped walking and bit into one, holding the other to his lips with a smirk. "go on then, if you love them so much." he stopped walking as well, glancing down at the rainbow lolly stick covered in tangy sugar. he internally cringed thinking about actually eating it, but nevertheless leaned closer and took a big bite out of it from her fingers.
if there's one thing about jungkook, it's that he is horrible at hiding his emotions. so he just doesn't. it's one of the things aera has always liked about her friend. she appreciates his authenticity and forwardness, whether or not it can annoy the shit out of her sometimes.
he only makes it through two bites of the sweet before his face contorts into a pained scowl, causing aera to fall into a fit of giggles. "god, that's disgusting. your tastebuds are messed up." he shakes his head with a smile, her laugh subsiding the pain of eating the atrocious candy.
they fall back into a steady pace as they resume walking, enjoying the comfortable silence while they both indulge in their snacks. they had been walking for about ten minutes now, jungkook snorting at some stupid joke aera had made before he looked forward, noticing his company building up ahead.
the park entertainment building was not far from bighit at all, which is why the two nineteen-year-olds share a favourite convenience store. "did you want to come say hi to the guys?" jungkook offered, looking over at aera while she finished her mouthful.
"can't, jungkook. practice, remember?" she reminded, stopping in her tracks, causing him to as well. she shoved the bag of sour straws into his hand, "share some with bangtan-sonyeondan-seonbaenim and tell them i said hi," aera teased. jungkook rolled his eyes at her formality, bumping his shoulder with hers before tucking the candy into his pocket and heading back toward the direction they came.
"where are you going?" aera asked in confusion, and his head turned slightly to her with furrowed brows.
"walking you back?" he said just as confused, as if it was the only possible answer in the world.
"what? no? your place is right there," aera gestured towards his company with her bottle of vitamin water, "that's just a waste of time."
"no, it's not." he shook his head, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smile. he would walk her to busan if she asked him to. "come on, you'll be late." he ushered her towards him and waited for her to start walking with him again. and she did.
169 notes · View notes
Soft Light
Past =-= Next
Author's Note: More of Oleandros in Living Waters AU. Thanks to @egrets-not-regrets for letting me borrow Lenora, Mara, and Erriox. It's been fun writing this arc with you :). Thanks to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Thanks to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Roland, Arnault, Angela and 'Becky.
Author's note 2: Becky is the non-cannon name for Roland's bonded.
Warnings: vague descriptions of injuries and recovery.
Summary: Oleandros meets Roland, Arnault, Angela and Becky once he's more recovered.
Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,
Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams
Tagged: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog
For several days, the more healed and cognizant that Oleandros had become, the more distractions he needed so that he wouldn’t set his own healing back. He tried to be a good patient, but he got bored frightfully easily, but he had a really hard time trying to read. He squinted a lot and complained that words were blurry and moved around the page making it impossible to read.
Ramiel and Cedric had asked if Oleandros had wanted to meet Roland and Arnault, especially after how much the pair of them, and the rest of the Primaris Squad had talked them up, and their humans Angela and Becky, he’d been terribly curious.
Also, since he’s mostly healed, and is getting really bored stuck just doing light duty tasks and movements. Oleandros had perked up at the chance to stretch his fins and go for a longer swim and he’d asked Ramiel and Cedric to set up that meeting with them and, if they wanted to, their Bonded.
Bonded, he still is having trouble understanding what that is, or what that means. But he does notice that the rougher, harder edges on the First Born Brothers and cousins who have a bonded are softened, at least around their Bonded. Even the dreaded Gray Knight when Lana is around. 
A few days later Cedric and Ramiel reported back that Arnault and Roland were willing to meet Oleandros, and that they would be bringing their Bonded. Oleandros was warned that Arnault has an intense Bond with Angela, and they explained what that meant, or at least what they thought it meant to have an Intense Bond.
Oleandros would likely understand better what that means once he meets Roland, Arnault, Angela and Becky. He was much more of a hands-on learner than one who learned through lectures, always had been, always would be.
Ramiel and Cedric were leading him to the agreed upon location that they are going to be meeting with Arnault and Roland. They had to go around a certain area- there is a Crusade of Black Templars in the area, and they wanted to avoid meeting them if possible.
For some reason most Black Templars seemed to take a dim view on Bonds, likely because it was, in part, due to the Warp-aspects of the Bond. Oleandros had wondered out loud if there were consequences for breaking the bonds. 
None of the Primaris Marines knew if that was the case, but if they knew anything about the Warp, it was that the Warp was… difficult to understand, but messing with it in ways that were contrary to Rules in Place often had very bad consequences for the person who decided to fuck around, they found out, often fatally, or worse, so much worse.
At least, that is what they suspect, but they don’t know much about the Warp, and all of its inanities. Also- trying to think about things too deeply gives all of them really bad headaches and the conversation just fizzles out and they go back to talking about other things.
Ramiel and Cedric call out to Arnault and Roland, then to Becky and Angela, slowly Oleandros pops his head up as he greets the two First Born Black Templars, and the two human women. He waits for the humans to approach, as he’s heard how anxious they can be of Astartes.
Which he finds to be fairly wise, Astartes can be dangerous, regardless of intent, Oleandros notices the way that Arnault and Roland watch and assess him. He scratches at his neck as he swims after his brothers.
He’d gotten some gifts that had been recommended for the humans and for the First born cousins. Oleandros carefully greets the two humans and shows them the gifts that he’d brought for them as he backs off and waits for them to approach him or not.
Oleandros sees the way they embrace the younger Black Templars, and the kisses and easy affection that Arnault and Roland have with their Bonded. He notices how much more intensely wound up and ready for action the Emperor’s Champion is.
Roland swims over to him first of the older Black Templars and pulls out a wax wrapped gift that smells of tangy-sour carbohydrates and his mouth waters. “Hallo there Oleandros, I have some bread that my Backerin made, do you want some?”
“Yes please,” Oleandros says as he carefully takes the bread and unwraps the protective wax paper and takes a bite. He groans a little in appreciation, the bread tastes so good. Far better than anything he’s ever tasted certainly, “This tastes really good! Thank you for the bread.”
“You are welcome,” Roland says with a small smile, “That is called Sourdough. My backerin made it.”
“Oh,” He says, “Thank you Miss Backerin for making the bread, it’s really good.”
“You’re welcome, Oleandros,” She replies with a fond smile.
“Are you hurt?” Angela asks quietly, she notices that he seems to have bandages wrapped around his head, “And how do the bandages stay on in the water?”
“Oh- I am recovering from… arriving on Ancient Terra,” Oleandros tells Angela, “And, I flew here, not swam. Also- hagfish slime helps keep the bandages and medicine in place. Or at least that’s what Cedric says… He knows more than I do about medical things…”
“Must have been a hard landing,” Arnault says, “We astartes tend to be hardy and fast healing.”
“Yes sir,” Oleandros says, “I had been… falling through the mad-sea, and was attacked by predators of that void-dark place before ending up here.”
“Those wounds are slow to heal,” Roland notes as he shoves an elbow into Arnault’s side.
This one isn’t a baby witch, and sure he’s an Ultramarine, he’s a good sort. Ramiel and Cedric wouldn’t bring people that they thought could be a danger to Backerin and Quilterin. Besides, the youngster was trying to be polite, and had done the smart thing and let their Bonded Humans come to them, rather than try and seek them out.
17 notes · View notes
tangledinink · 11 months
Note
Heya! First off I’m around halfway through teenage mutant what now and it is the funniest fic I have ever read - Beautifully written and overall brilliant but the jokes get me every time
And second, is it okay if I reference a pose from one of your gemini artworks for my own work? I’ll credit the inspiration if I post it anywhere ^^
whew we're overdue for an ask dump,,, OKAY ALRIGHT.
THANK YOU ; w ; I'm really glad you like it hehehehe. also yeah sure feel free! I don't mind! ^^
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HEHEHE THIS MAKES ME VERY HAPPY THANK YOU
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oh he DEFINITELY freaked out at first. there was a lot of panicking and confusion and "how could this even happen?!" ("you think i'd genetically engineer a creature that's not capable of reproducing? all of you should be genetically compatible with practically any yokai," draxum said. "AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO, I DUNNO, TELL US THAT?!" donnie said.) but eventually, he did calm down, and he and his partner talked about it (a bunch, multiple times), and eventually some of the panic gave way to... curiosity, first of all... and then maybe kind of excitement? and some fondness? i mean, he was still pretty scared, and sure, he doesn't really consider himself a 'kid' person, but it's not like he never thought about EVENTUALLY having kids, just maybe... not so soon? but. i mean.
well. if they're already cooking...
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THANK YOU ; w ; i'm glad you like them! @kiwi-smug-silvalina
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oh gosh, that's a good question. i'm not entirely sure... uhmmm... i would say perhaps... details about how gemini!donnie's witchcraft looks and acts, VS how venus's witchcraft looks and acts...
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it is very shiny. i like that people call it "the bean" instead of its actual title coz it pisses anish kapoor off.
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ah ; w ; THANK YOU SO MUCH,,, thats so sweet and this made me very happy,,, <3 im glad you liked it!!!! @allegedllama
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HEHEHE thank you. yes im aware that i am deranged.
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omg same hat!!! i was a lifeguard and it was.... uh.... INTERESTING to say the least... (sometimes lovely, sometimes AWFUL...) @datfearlesschick
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if by games you mean 'messed up deals that she can manipulate to her own advantage,' then yes! @frogonamelon
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@beannary @spectralsleuth @heckitall @livsinpjs and the sep council as a whole!!! y'all's support has definitely meant so much and there's no way i'd have gotten as far with any of my projects as i have without them... or without literally ANY of the people who take the time to do things like reblog with tags, leave commentary in the tags, send in asks about my stories, etc etc etc! that's definitely one of my main motivators to create more!!! <3 thank y'all!
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EEEE this made me smile, hehehehe. thank you :3c @thejavavoid
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AAAAAA THANK YOU THIS GENUINELY MADE ME SO HAPPY COZ I WAS SO GODDAMN PROUD OF THOSE HANDS AND HOW THEY CAME OUT ; w ; THANK YOU @onejellyfishplease
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thank you!!! u w u @fanrulerjynx
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THANK YOU ; w ; I REALLY APPRECIATE THIS,,, it made me very very very happy and HEHEHE IM GLAD YOU LIKE YASSIFIED DRAXUM,,, i just think he DESERVES it, y'know? also thats just my favorite way to draw characters lmao I think it's fun so I decided for this comic I just get to indulge...
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not necessarily-- this was mostly just a coincidence! @breezehurricane
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oh gosh. i'm not sure, but i know it definitely WILL affect their parenting... i think at first donnie will find himself just... deferring to his partner a LOT in almost any situation because he's afraid that he'll fuck it up, because he DOESN'T feel like he understands proper boundaries or what parenting is supposed to look like, etc etc etc, and he's afraid he'll mess up. he probably reads a TON of parenting books as well because RESEARCH and will often try to pull directly from them in any situation he can, and is confused when things don't go exactly the way they were described in the text... leo i think kind of tends to flounder between being overprotective and feeling the desire to protect his son from everything and anything and wanting to overcorrect this tendency by pulling back and trying to give him as much freedom and space as possible, which sometimes leads to some... inconsistencies. there's definitely a learning curve for both of them, but they both get the hang of it eventually. they both have lovely partners and a very loving and supportive family to help them and they'll figure it out with a bit of practice.
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ahhh thank you! :D im so delighted that my silly stories actually inspired something for you!!! hell yeah!!! MAKING THINGS IS GREAT!!! THANK YOU!!! @can-elope
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i like to imagine them all staying very close, especially coz i'm loosely planning on them all going through the kraang-apocalypse together (and then coming through to the other side!) so i can't imagine them ever drifting too far from each other, emotionally or geographically. there's a bit of a rocky start for a lot of them, but all of the siblings end up a very tight-knit bunch.
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nectar-cellar · 1 year
Text
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Bold the Facts
Amir Hussain
thank you for tagging me @zosa95 @holocene-sims 💞💗 im so normal about him... u can learn more about my favorite self-loathing bisexual loser below
[ PERSONAL]
$ Financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty
✚ Medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non applicable
✪ Class or Caste: upper / middle / working / unsure / other
✔ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying / other
✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet / yes, but charges were dismissed
[ FAMILY]
◒ Children: had a child or children / has no children / wants children
◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased
◔ Affiliation: orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent / not applicable
[ TRAITS + TENDENCIES]
♦ extroverted / introverted / in between
♦ disorganized / organized / in between [His space is a mess just like his thoughts.] 
♦ close minded / open-minded / in between
♦ calm / anxious / in between [Outwardly he seems stoic but internally he’s anxious, he’s overthinking, his thoughts are ruminating, dwelling on the past, etc.] 
♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in between [It takes a while for him to warm up to people.]
♦ cautious / reckless / in between [He's too much of an anxious mess to allow himself to be reckless.]
♦ patient / impatient / in between
♦ outspoken / reserved / in between [He can appear to others as aloof and cold and not chatty.] 
♦ leader / follower / in between [I don’t think of him as a leader necessarily but he’s definitely not someone who tends to follow others easily. He’s more of a lone wolf if anything.]
♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in between [A soft heart hidden behind those tall walls!!!]
♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in between [Under all those layers of pessimism, hope persists.]
♦ traditional / modern / in between [He is strongly against conservative/traditionalist ways of thinking.] 
♦ hard-working / lazy / in between
♦ cultured / uncultured / in between / unknown [Not an artist himself but he loves consuming art, reading about it, learning, having discussions about What It All Means. He treats himself to Spotify Premium as a little luxury, he can't live without his music. He has an active Letterboxd account and he is constantly pirating media or watching movies/tv shows on illegal streaming sites... truly a cultured modern man.]
♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown [He believes that he owes loyalty to those he loves. In his eyes, breaking that loyalty would be a highly shameful and dishonourable thing to do.] 
♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown [He is faithful to the point where he gets obsessive and possessive. He is somewhat aware that he has toxic tendencies. He never had role models for what healthy relationships and boundaries should look like. He had to learn about those things through media and is still trying to figure it out for himself. He is deeply lonely and wants desperately to be loved. What he actually needs is a therapist but anyways...]
[ BELIEFS]
★ Faith: monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic / Spiritual [He grew up religious but is no longer a believer.]
☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care
✮ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care
✯ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care
❃ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care
✧ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious
❀ Philosophical: yes / no
[ SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION ]
❤ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual
❥ Sex: sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / naive and clueless
♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious
❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious [He thinks of sex as a physical way to show and receive love and let’s just say he has a lot of love to give to his one and only.]  
⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all
⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all
[ ABILITIES ]
☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none [I think he could handle himself in a fight even though he's a pacifist. He's big and tall. His workout routine consists of weightlifting and boxing. I could see him being interested in taking self-defense courses.] 
≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
✍ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none [Would not consider himself an artist in any way, but maybe one day he would attempt to paint something or make a little bowl out of clay. Would love every minute of doing it badly.]
✂ Technical Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
[ HABITS ]
☕ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / Alcoholic [Can handle his liquor. Almost always drinks when he's with the boys.]
☁ Smoking: tried it / trying to quit / quit / never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / chain-smoker
✿ Recreational Drugs: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / addict [Nothing like meth or cocaine but I can see him being open to weed, shrooms, ecstasy in the right company and place.]
✌ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess [Not something I have thought too much about but he probably takes antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication. Or took them in the past. Or likely will at some point in the future.]
☻ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / binge eater
$ Splurge Spending: never / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic
♣ Gambling: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / compulsive gambler
73 notes · View notes
hwaightme · 2 years
Text
Your fan, San (part 2)
(part 1) (your fan ml)
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💬 pairing: san x interpreter!reader 💬 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining, drama 💬 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if san was stanning you 💬 wordcount: 4.5k 💬 warnings/tags: language, conflict, two shy dorks, homie sabotage?, misunderstandings, love above all, touring, busy life, reader is a pro linguist, we stan simpteez, unedited oop- 💬 taglist: @acciocriativity, @doom-fics, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jackinmyarea , @izuijin @justhere4kpop 💬 a/n: Hello there <3 here is PART 2 of YOUR FAN SAN!! Hopeless romantic? Check. Chaotic? Check... and the FINALE is coming soon??? ;~; P.S. that uni life do be getting wild so apologies if I'll be haphazardly uploading or if trains of thought are derailed~
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'The Beauty of Falling in Love - a collection of short stories, poems and musings'
That was the title of the book you had to translate. And if you were not a (fully) sappy and sentimental mess before, you sure as hell were now. Because each little chapter, be it an anonymous recollection of favourite moments with a loved one, or a vignette dedicated to someone special, was some of the most heartwarming work you have ever read.
Each piece sounded so personal, so real, that you found yourself spending more time than usual on this commission. You had made an agreement with the client that they would be sending chapters out one by one, and prior to receiving one, you would send back a completed translation.
It was an easy enough arrangement, and was not too taxing when it came to your personal time. You could ruin your sleep schedule to your heart's content by watching dramas that you had missed whilst on tour, could make late night trips to the convenience store because you did not want to be caught in the businessperson rush, could catch up with people who you had inadvertently ghosted because of work and inability to find words when you wanted to.
Outside of your preferred mode of relaxation, you kept in touch with some of the members of ATEEZ, thanks to a group chat that San had created and 'simply had to add you' - at least that was how he had advertised it. The group chat consisted of him, you, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang, who to you seemed like a random pick, since you did not interact with neither Yunho nor Yeosang as much.
But over a very short period of time this had changed for the better, and you had grown very comfortable, attached even, to the chaotic quartet. If anything this it was a top up vaccine for being able to keep up with the ATEEZ chaos - otherwise you would be familiarising yourself with it again for tour, as if it was the first day of work.
Little did you know, you were talking with the Operation ring leaders + Yeosang who was in it for the gossip, and to control the fire... in the way he wished. It was more or less a regular conversation, aside from San occasionally panicking and running up to one of the guys for advice.
"Yeo why did you write 'AMOGUS'?"
"Don't question me. This is art- ah see, Y/N sent the prayer hands emoji, she agrees." Yeosang responded, pointing at his phone screen.
"I feel like you guys are six parallel universes ahead of me and I don't like it."
"Make that ten, you boomer."
"This is an ancient meme you are quoting Yeo~" Wooyoung joined in, trying to poke fun at his friend.
"Say that again, the king of social boomers? Are you salty that I did not put hyung after AMOGUS because it's old?"
"What even is this chat-" Mingi, who was observing from his position lying across three dining chairs, threw the question out into the air.
"It is us trying to force San to dm Y/N by pushing them together like two dolls." Wooyoung, slightly irritated, explained.
"Man, you really are done." Mingi responded, chuckling
"I don't know, am I? San is breaking up with me so I am going through all stages of grief."
"Double u tee eff?" San raised an eyebrow and stared at Wooyoung, phone loose in his hands.
"How far along is she?"
"She isn't pregnant dude."
"Ugh you know what I mean."
"Like... a third of the way?"
"Damn you guys are slow as shit. We planned for this to take how long? You even have the confession already written up for the last chapter, this is kind of ridiculous. You know what, hold up."
Wooyoung tackled San, and thanks to the surprise nature of the attack, got the perfect opportunity to grab his friend's phone. After securing 'the bag', Wooyoung strode off to the other side of the room, clicking away, while San attempted to stand up, shouting.
Yunho seemed to have caught onto what the other was about to do, as he launched himself at the shorter man sat on the sofa and splayed himself right over like a blanket.
"No hard feelings bro this is necessary."
As San way trying to battle his way out, but was further restrained by Yeosang who had finally stopped taking photos, Wooyoung giggled deviously and locked the phone again, sauntering back with a devilish grin and handing it to San.
"It is done. You can thank me later."
"What did you do?"
"Something that you should have done like... a year ago."
"DID YOU TEXT HER?"
"Yeah. And don't worry, nothing Woo-style, you grilled me enough times for me to remember her preferences. Plus, I know how to text like you."
"And when did that come in handy?"
"Uh... I have to go water my fish BYEEE~" Wooyoung quickly departed from the living room sprinting back to the dorm, while San remained in shock, swiping at the screen to reveal the message that his friend had sent on his behalf.
Damn. It really was just like him.
The text came to you as a surprise. Though you have had some conversations over private message before, most of them had been in some way work related. Not San messaging you out of the blue to ask how you were and that you should catch up.
With the group chat all but abandoned, you happily launched into texting San. There was never any pressure for a phone call, which you greatly appreciated, and there was no specific guidelines that either of you enforced - without a care you double, triple, quadruple texted, abruptly disappeared only to reappear with a link or a photo... main things was that together, you kept your conversation alive and thriving.
You would have never, not in a million years, imagined yourself getting this close to San, or anyone with a celebrity status for that matter. Simply because you felt like they would need and deserve more than you could offer socially. You were all about human connection and uniting minds, but when it came to your own personal preferences, you would much rather write out your thoughts in astonishing detail and hit send, than say the same things out loud and to somebody in person.
And yet, contrary to your assumptions and what you could only say had been prejudice on your part, San was supportive of you and of your choices, saying he could 'imagine your voice well enough anyways'. He steered clear of pushing you to communicate in a style that was not yours; though you did enjoy hearing his voice, and would be lying if you said he was not a charmer, you could not bring yourself to reciprocate that approach. It was too overwhelming to do during the time that you had allocated for yourself as your regenerative state. And San made your heart melt by showing that he got that, without you having to tear yourself apart and explain.
To him it had been fairly easy to figure out that you were a text over call kind of person, and was something that he had advertised to the Operation Love Language squad. Given your notes app being packed, post it notes sometimes threatening to pour out of your bag, and him spotting you willingly sitting far away from any groups so you could watch something, earphones in, all pointed to that conclusion. And San found that he liked it more than he would have guessed.
Each text was like a memory, and an expression not only of something that they wanted to blurt out, but more often than not of a considered, weighed out opinion, even if it was onomatopoeia or a string of emojis. He would have never been able to get to know you like he did over text, and get so close to you that you were now happily discussing with him your own worries, and passions, and dreams, not just responding to his stream of musings and questions.
It was through one of these extensive texting sessions that you had revealed to San your endeavors as a freelance translator, and gushed about the commission you were working on.
This made San's thumbs freeze midway through typing. Carried away and impatient, he had tried to strike on all fronts, and now that he was in continuous communication with you, he regretted it. Deeply. Except he did not yet know just how risky the decision to parade as someone he was not could be.
After the first time you had mentioned your side work, he had begun to get progressively more quiet. Bit by bit. Until his responses to you turned almost into a conversation with a wall. You were unable to figure out just what had gotten into San, what had changed?
You turned to the work you were meant to translate as a distraction, expecting that the client would have shared the new chapter with you already... but no such thing.
Instead, there was an order cancellation, and a short apology.
What did you do wrong?
What happened?
Was there something that had not been quite right?
You looked over your already completed translations - you were searching for anything to suggest a reason for cancellation. The words appeared blurry, fading into one big mush. It was all terrible... wasn't it?
Who were you kidding you were probably rusty after not working with fiction for so long, and for not focusing hard enough. You had stopped paying attention to the craft. Who even were you? And interpreter, a translator, or a fraud?
You looked at the cancellation email again, knowing full well that it was pointless to try and reach the customer - they might have blocked you for all you knew. This hurt. This really hurt.
You saw that San had responded to your messages, again in a weirdly cheery tone, asking you how you are and what you have been up to? San would understand... right? San would listen to you...?
So you did something that you yourself did not expect, and pressed on the call button. He picked up on the first ring.
He sounded nervous, and almost tearful as you bared all and talked him through what had just happened. You needed him. He was the only one who had understood your language.
When you told him that you were probably over reacting and just humiliating yourself by being 'so deep in sad mode' over a whole lot of nothing, he instantly was there to catch you and call you out. He emphasised the importance of your work, of the beautiful job you had done so far... but then halted, unsure of how to proceed.
This left you confused. He then picked his words in a strangely careful manner, and almost beginning to side with the customer, saying how maybe it was for the better, and that now at least you could relax and find another project...
"San. This is really unlike you. What is up with that personality switch?"
"What do you mean Y/N? It's nothing-"
"I have an ear for speech, San, if there is anyone who could be a bullshit filter, it is me."
Silence.
More silence.
You were about to call out to him again, when you hear a muffled, barely there whisper:
"I'm sorry..."
You were sent reeling. What did he mean? Why was he sorry?
"I... it was me. Y/N. I am sorry. I really did not mean it to turn out that way I-"
"Okay first of all, why?"
"I..."
"Second of all, whilst I am grateful for your support and stuff, it does make me uncomfortable."
"I'm-"
"Thirdly, actually you know what focus on point number one."
When you did not hear an answer, you tried again: "Hello? I am waiting."
"I like you."
"...What?" you were left in shock.
You had suppressed your feelings for San in the deepest caverns of your soul out of the terror that it was bound to be unrequited, but here you were. Listening to that same man who had supported you from the beginning of your career to now (and exposing yet another ridiculous attempt at that), who had read your quirks and style and knew you better than most. Listening to him confess.
"I... how do I say this... it has been a while. A long while. I have been trying to approach you but... I was either too shy for it, or the attempts were just ridiculous. So we- so I came up with this idea, to try and tell you... this book right. The Beauty of Falling in Love. It is... it spoke to me. And I had planned to give it to you piece by piece until I could then reveal myself to you... but then we started talking outside of that and then I panicked and- yeah, I am... I am just so sorry, this is confusing as hell."
"Wait... wait wait... this is... so were you paying me to get me to like you? Was that what you were doing?"
"GOSH! NO! NO, DON'T MISUNDERSTAND!"
"Look. As much as I do like bringing joy to people through my work, this crosses a line. And it's not the fact that you ordered something from me - hell, support the artist right? It's the fact that you decided to be somebody else. You decided to conceal yourself to talk to me. Like you did not trust me. Even though you want me to like you.
I'll be returning the money to you shortly. M-kay? And... talk on stage, I guess."
Before San could respond, you ended the call sharply. No more phone calls. They were cursed, apparently.
With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.
---
"Maybe... just maybe if you had seen it through and not abandoned ship... your ship could have sailed?"
"Yunho just because it's your idea does not mean is good!" San retorted, having recounted the story to the members, gone into full crisis mode.
"Hello!? You agreed? I am just generating ideas here."
"I think we all blew this out of proportion and did not consider risks... at all." Mingi interjected, massaging his temples.
"You guys, I have an idea-" Wooyoung began, but was quickly cut off by San, who was already half way out of the door.
"You know what? I am done with the ideas. I will just do what I think is right."
---
You were conflicted. In a way, you had gotten what you wanted. A confession from your crush that you had been quietly keeping in the shadows. But at the same time, your anxiety spiked. Were you that unapproachable that San had to have twisted everything to get to you? Was your work more entertaining than you could ever be?
With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.
If your presence was not explicitly required at the venue, you would not go. Once an event ended, you would leave. If anything, you were acting just like any employee would.
You were trying to bury the conflicting feelings that you were experiencing. To an extent, you felt disrespected. Like you had been mistreated via the means of 'i am using your translation services so you should love me'. And it was one unpleasant thought.
So, you stuck to what you knew and were more or less confident in. Words that were not yours. ideas that were not yours. Feelings that were not yours.
In a matter of an hour after the first small event, however, you could not sulk in your room how you wanted, thanks to a random slip of paper being shoved under your door. You ran across the room and slammed it open in an attempt to catch the culprit, but there was no one in sight.
You gingerly picked up the papers, and read. It was unmistakable. It was the next chapter of the book, with an interesting translation on another sheet of paper, and an additional note.
"I am sorry, and I can only hope that you will read this and let me fight. <3 San"
As much as you were ready to forgive him then and there, you decided that you wanted to see just how far he was going to go.
The next morning - another letter had arrived. The next chapter, a translation, and another note.
During filming for a morning show, San had shot you numerous glances in an attempt to see whether you were even reading what he had been Amazon Priming to your room, but with a cheeky smile dancing on your lips, you let your fun continue.
Another package.
And another.
And another. Until, finally, the last chapter had arrived. At least that was what you thought right up until the evening of the same day. You had assumed that it was going to now be your turn to act, or at least to start talking again, but a loud knock jolted you out of your thoughts.
And another.
And another knock on the door. This man was an unstoppable force.
"I... I translated the last one. Well, tried to."
"But there were only eleven stories-"
"Nope, twelve. Here."
You saw a two pieces of paper appear from under the door, just like before. Except instead of the Korean page being a scan from the book, it was evidently a document that either San... or somebody else, had typed up, and then managed to print.
To be respectful, you attempted to read the Japanese, but soon enough gave up since the kanji somehow managed to look cursive, and instead took the Korean text in your hands.
You took a seat with your back against the door and knees almost flush against your chest, and began to read, your heart rate picking up pace as soon as you saw "Dear Y/N,".
It began as a little story. A re-telling of how both of you had met, and how you had come to own a little space in his heart, eventually leading to him simply giving it to you.
"Did you know that you look so beautiful in those moments when you don't think anyone is watching? The more I think about it, the more I feel like it has been what had drawn me in. How you typed and typed on your phone. If time allowed, I liked to try guessing whether you were going to switch the keyboard at some point or not. How you were and are in your element. And of course, how you are, simply, you."
He recalled the moments that you two had shared. The levels of pride and admiration he felt when he saw you being approached and congratulated by the fans, and when he could take a moment to just enjoy what you did.
San moved to explaining 'the plan' to you, and though you were ready to scold him then and there (especially since there was the door between you that made confrontation easier), you could not help but admit that the general notion (aside from making affection and crushing on someone a monetary exchange - better not put feels on Etsy) was heartwarming.
As it turned out, both of you were shy dorks who could not act on feelings. Admittedly, one of you was a LOUD shy dork and the other a 'language is life but still can't read between the lines' shy dork, but at least you made it here.
San was a nervous wreck, barely stopping himself from either pacing up and down the corridor or going into a meltdown and lying face down on the carpet. He already looked suspicious enough as is, just standing by a random hotel number like a vampire who had been refused entry.
Or perhaps more accurately, like a cat who had been shut out of the house and was now desperately trying to claw its way back in.
But that stress was quickly washed away when your form suddenly appeared before him, peeking out, drowning in an oversized hoodie. The papers were still clenched in your hand as you motioned for San to come in.
You waited until he was right in the middle of the room before closing the door. Part of you was afraid that he was going to nope out at any moment. You needed the reassurance. The confidence that was normally there when you were working. But every fiber of your being was screaming in protest, wanting simply to hide.
You observed him. He looked like he was barely breathing.
"I... really I am... so sorry... again... I know that it was so fooli-"
"私でもあなたのことが好きだ..." (I like you too)
"eXCUSEME?!"
"All this translating and you still can't process?" you joked, but began to pull on the drawstrings of your hoodie in an attempt to make your face disappear.
"ohHH NoONOOO I just want to hear you say it in every language that you know!!!" San exclaimed and in a matter of seconds was inches away, peeking at what was not yet concealed by the fluffy cotton.
As he leaned closer and closer, flustering you (and himself) in the process and took both of your hands in his, in the last leap of bravery you whispered:
"Well that, you'll have to earn, San. And I don't take traditional currency."
"You will never let that go."
"Never ever, Choi San, it's a core memory now."
"Well hey at least it means you are not letting go of me~"
"Oh the way you twist words..."
"Like you twist me around your finger, not to give you an ego trip or anything..."
"It's 'wrap'. The correct word is 'wrap' around a finger."
"Okay you know what how about I translate it to body language?" he puckered his lips, making you giggle.
"As long as I don't need to correct grammatical errors."
"Now now I'd say I'm fluent."
--
The habit of sliding notes under your door or passing them to you did not stop - it only got stronger and became an 'any location', Mission Impossible note transfer agreement.
It had become something of a game, muddling languages together and writing near-nonsense just to sit there almost crying, trying not to laugh.
Soon enough, the game spread to Wooyoung, who would on occasion intercept the messages and add in his own flair, and soon enough to a curious Yunho and Mingi, who then turned it into impromptu paper plane throwing tournaments.
Really, the only reason why Hongjoong did not intercept was because you managed to at least keep the messages under strict PG rating and had good aim - with a saving swoop you had managed to return one such airmail right into San's lap during a fan sign, leading ATINY to give you an additional "aimbot" title.
It did not matter what the schedule was, you left each other encouraging notes (and without the other knowing, stored them away in your luggage).
"Good luck being the first one to get hair and makeup done..."
"Good luck with the translation deal on the book <3" (after an entire evening of a pouting and pleading San, you had reached out to the editors of the romance book you had translated for him, and now were in very promising negotiations)
You raced ahead, in time with each other, creating your own language.
The extended time ATEEZ had spent in Japan was coming to an end, and in the blink of an eye, it was the final concert. The "closing remarks", the epilogue.
You were prepared to interpret in full, as always. One member down. Another... finally, it was only San left. The other members were looking at him expectantly, while some sent glances in your approximate direction.
You took Hongjoong's tranquility and him nudging San in the shoulder as a sign that no, you will not have to pretend he said something different and double speak it - whatever he was about to do was, apparently, captain certified.
At that moment, San pulled out a note from a pocket that you had no idea even existed. The action seemed to have the same effect on ATINY as they "oooohed" - Yunho fake whispered into the microphone that San was now a part-time magician, so these things were the norm.
You had your microphone at the ready. With bated breath, you waited for San to begin. And that, he did.
In Japanese.
Grammatically correct, coherent and well-delivered Japanese.
Even though some of the phrases were obviously not his style and word selection, leading you to imagine him poring over this text like he was writing the declaration of independence with the boys, it was him. It was his feeling. It was his message.
Your arm fell to your side with a thud, and you were grateful that your microphone had been turned off for the time being. You caught yourself gaping, and had to forcibly compose yourself to reveal only a soft smile, as you took the scene in.
San was not exactly trying to hide that he was paying special attention to a specific part of the arena, with his body turned almost completely in your direction and only a few glances off to the sides and at the note.
"...and I hope that we will always be together, as one, and share this world. sometimes there may be struggle, there may be darkness, but WE," he makes a grand gesture with his hand, as if highlighting the area in front of him, but really it was just to, again, symbolise that certain someone at the forefront of his mind, "will last, and be the light."
The crowd roared, and you could allow yourself to internally combust as you watched ATEEZ wave, bow and bid their farewells.
Some things did not need a translation to be understood, and some things were not up for interpretation.
Like how San sprinted to you as soon as he was out of public sight. How he swept you off your feet both literally and metaphorically.
How Jongho muttered 'get a room', but still smiled at both of you when he passed by.
How, upon your return to South Korea, he had practically made it his mission to dote on you, and any moment he got, show that you were together.
Matching plushies? Check.
Basically exposing you both on Late Night Dive (though there was not really anything to expose because the entire ordeal was almost a live streamed ATEEZ drama)? Check.
Happily chatting away with ATINY about love and about finding it, sending loving stares your way? Check.
This was the love language you shared. No hiding, no scheming. Two native speakers, who found each other in translation.
307 notes · View notes
gardenofnoah · 2 years
Text
(cw: this is smut. MDNI, and don’t read it if you don’t like it. please do not report the work, just kindly move along like a normal human being thanks love u (other tags: a little bit of objectification, lots of praise, fingering, oral sex, katsuki calls reader a good girl once, names of body parts, trans!bakugou, fluff)).
thinking about helping bakugou take off his binding tape.
.
.
you stand behind him, brushing your lips over the ridge of his shoulder while the water beats at his chest. your fingers reach around to grip the edges of the tape, pulling gently as the adhesive dissolves under the hot water.
they come up with ease and your hands replace them, massaging and groping at his chest. fingers pinching his soft nipples.
“what’re y’doin—“ it’s a little breathless, a little slurred, and it makes you smile. he tips his head back to tap against your own at a particularly harsh tug of his nipple.
“just making sure the adhesive is off,” you tell him innocently, kissing the junction of his shoulder and his neck, making his breath stutter in his chest. you wrap your fingers around the arm at his side and pull him around until he’s facing you.
and isn’t he a sight. nipples red and pebbled from your wandering hands, face flushed a similar shade (from the steam of the shower or you, you can’t be sure). bottom lip drawn between his teeth as he eyes you through hooded lids.
“actually,” you lean in to press a chaste kiss to his throat, and then his collarbone, “i think i missed some.”
you don’t give him much warning before you pull his nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the little bud before grazing your teeth over it in the way you know drives him crazy.
and you feel it has, if the way his cock, swollen and poking through his folds, ruts against your hip is anything to go by. you pull back to watch, letting him use you a little, mostly fascinated by how big he is against your skin. his fingers thread through the hair on the back of your head, and he pulls you to him until your forehead rests against the sharp cut of his cheekbone. he pants into your ear as he drags his cock along the curve of your body and the wave of arousal that nearly makes your knees buckle cannot be helped.
“katsuki,” you breathe, sliding your hand between your bodies to cup him, reveling in the groan he lets out at the weight of your palm against him. you slide your hand up until your fingers can curl around him, stroking him lightly. you hold back your own groan at the mess between his legs—all hot and slick and hard, just for you.
“want to feel this fat cock inside of me,” you whine in his ear, because you know it’ll get him to buckle and because you do. it’s actually all you can think about right now—the weight of his hips pinning you as he drags himself through your folds, the way you’d clamp down around him when he pushed inside you.
so caught up in the day dream are you that you startle a little when he crushes his mouth to yours. it’s immediately so much—the heat of the water against your slippery bodies, the way he presses you back against the cooler tile and takes over all of your senses.
you pant into his mouth when his fingers reach around the back of your knee and pull your leg up to hitch over his hip. his fingers brush against where you are soaking and the moan he lets out is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot.
“all this for me?” he rasps, running the backs of his fingers through your mess. he brushes against your clit and your knee buckles, but he has you pressed against the tile so tightly that you think you could go deadweight and you wouldn’t budge. he brings his hand to his mouth, pulling his fingers apart to watch your slick stretch between them. he brings his hand to your mouth and your lips part almost unconsciously, tongue wrapping around his knuckles before he can even tell you to.
“good fuckin’ girl,” he rasps, leaning forward to press a kiss against your temple. he pulls his fingers from your mouth and reaches down to spread you apart, slotting his hips between yours. it takes some maneuvering, but he’s practiced—the head of his cock brushes against your entrance, gathering your slick and dragging it up so he can rub it against your clit.
you’re beside yourself now—whining and babbling against the skin of his throat between licks, sucks, and bites down the column of it. he pays you no mind, captivated by the silkiness and the warmth of you.
“you want me to fill this messy little pussy?” he growls against your temple, and you keen— it’s not often that katsuki indulges you like this. he’s usually full of praise and gentle touches, coaxing you off the ledge with careful fingers and soft tongue—but you love it when he gets a little mouthy.
“i—please, baby, i need it—“
“y’need it?” and you can hear the grin as he keeps up the movement of his hips, so fucking good but not enough, “how bad, princess?”
“please kat—it hurts—need you inside.”
he tuts like he thinks you’re pitiful, and you feel yourself clamp down around nothing. something about the way he patronizes you makes you so unbelievably shameless. you’re nearly delirious, licking up his neck like the taste of his skin can get you off. right now, it might.
“my poor baby,” he coos, and you shiver—his voice is dangerous now, against your ear, “get on your knees.”
you’ve never moved so fast in your life—so sudden that he nearly loses his grip on you, hissing at you to be careful. you pay him no mind, settling down on your knees in front of him, tongue automatically poking out from your lips as you blink up at him. you barely feel the cut of the tile into your skin—so enamored you are by the cheshire grin that spreads slow across his face.
“look at you,” he murmurs, brushing your damp hair back from your face. the spray of the water is shielded by his broad frame, and the cool air near the floor pulls goosebumps to the surface of your skin.
“slutty little baby already knows what t’do,” he presses his thumb against the flat of your tongue—you let him open your mouth and play there until he’s content.
he steps closer to you, and he’s close enough now that you can smell him—you pant, open mouthed, trying to take more of him in. he chuckles darkly.
“sweet thing,” he murmurs, pushing his hips forward to rub the tip of his cock over your tongue, “suck.”
at his word, your lips close around him—your tongue swirls over the head and your hollow out your cheeks, head bobbing up and down the length of him. feeling yourself drip down your legs as your tongue cradles the underside of his shaft.
“fuck,” he gasps above you, fingers coming down to weave through your hair. he presses you closer until your nose is tickled by his thick pubic hair. you breathe in his heavy scent, feeling grateful that the water hadn’t washed it away yet. you swallow around him and he lets out a string of expletives that go straight to your core.
you pull off of him, fingers coming up to stroke his length as your tongue seeks out where he is swollen and dripping. you push inside him gently and his hips buck.
“oh, fucking—yeah, baby, that’s good,” he groans, grinding his hips down to meet your tongue.
the taste of him is intoxicating—his slick dribbles off your tongue and down your chin, and you feel a little grief at wasting it but refuse to stop fucking him, not with the way he sounds right now—
all at once he pulls back, still gripping you by the hair as he pants, trying to collect himself. after a moment, he crouches down to your level, pulling you toward him until your lips are mere centimeters apart. the spray of the water flicks a few drops in your face and you don’t even notice, so enthralled by the man in front of you.
“my sweet baby waited long enough, hm?”
and you whine, long and pitiful, rubbing your thighs together unconsciously to soothe yourself. he watches you do this with a fondness that makes the ache so much worse.
he stands and reaches behind him to turn the shower off. he turns back to you, eyes raking over you, feeling a wave of pride at the way you’re still there on your knees—you really are a great listener.
“lay down, sweetheart.”
and so you do, back against the cooling tile. you spread yourself open for him, basking in his praise when you do.
he settles on his knees between your legs, hands running up the backs of your thighs to push your knees to your chest.
“hold ‘em there for me, angel.”
he settles over you, leaning over to press a devastatingly soft kiss to your lips, and then another, and so lost you are in him that when he finally brushes cock over your aching clit, you nearly come out of your skin.
“there y’go,” he says over your wails, reaching to wrap a hand around your throat, “so fuckin’ messy, baby. drippin’ down your ass right now.”
and he doesn’t give you any time to respond—not that you would’ve been able to, anyway—before he’s pressing the head of his cock inside of you.
“jesus christ,” he grits out between his teeth, “you gotta let me in, angel.”
but he’s only saying it to say it, because then he’s bullying his way in until he’s flush against you. his free hand comes down to where your bodies meet, and his thumb brushes over your achy clit. you clamp down around him, and he feels the way you whine against the hand he has wrapped around your throat.
he grinds his hips against yours, his own eyelids fluttering at the way you suck him into your body.
“y’gonna cum like this, pretty baby?”
“y-yes,” you wail, and it makes him smile.
leans down a little closer so you can see his face, tightening his grip minutely around your throat. he’s never really been into choking and neither are you—it’s more about the control. of showing you that he has you. it’s a comfort for both of you.
“go ahead, sweet girl. want this pussy to cum all over me.”
and you are nothing if not obedient, so you do, and hard. he never stops the brush of his thumb over your swollen clit, dragging out your orgasm with every stroke over it. you flutter around him at a pace that makes him dizzy, and he lets you take what you need from him—meets the stutter of your hips with his own deep grinds as you writhe underneath him. he ruts his hips against yours slowly, intentionally, until you’re shivering and over stimulated. you pulls his cock from you and revels in the slick sound it makes. it aches where it hangs between his folds and he can feel himself dripping between his legs, but he ignores it for the moment.
he leans over you, leaning down to meet your lips in a kiss of comfort. you sigh into it, and it makes him smile. he strokes the side of your throat with the pad of his thumb.
“you with me, baby?”
you hum, eyes blinking open slowly to look at him. he’s so beautiful it makes you ache. “want to make you cum, kat.”
“oh, angel, you don’t have—“
his words dissolve into a groan when you reach up to swipe your fingers through his heat.
“but i want to,” you whisper, teasing his messy little hole with the pad of your finger, “want to feel you.”
his face screws up with the concentration it takes to not sink down on your fingers completely. he jerks his head down, a quick nod. “y-yeah,” he chokes out, nodding again, “yes.”
you smile, pushing two fingers up until his body swallows them completely. you set a lazy pace, fucking up into him as he trembles above you.
he’s on his elbows, caging your head between them as he pants into your temple.
“touch that big cock for me, kat.”
he moans something pitiful into your ear and follows your directive. you bring your chin to you chest to watch him when he does—fascinated at the way his fingers tug at his length, all deep reddish-brown and impossibly hard. your fingers curve inside him and he nearly collapses on top of you. you watch as his slick rolls down your hand in fat beads.
“need you to cum, my love,” you coo, turning to rub your cheek against his. you’ve both completely forgotten that you’re on the cold shower floor—he’s taken over all of your senses.
“gonna—gonna cum,” he chokes out, his fingers speeding up over his cock. your fingers scissor inside of him, stretching him out, filling him up. “oh fuck, fuck, yeah, please—“
he lets out one more breathy “haah—fuck” before he goes rigid above you, squeezing your fingers tightly as he cums. his hips fall to meet yours, grinding your fingers deeper into him as he drags his twitching cock over the soft of your belly. you turn your head to kiss him, swallowing his moans and whines like they could sustain you.
he goes soft above you eventually, body moulding on top of yours like he’s boneless. you crane your neck to press a kiss to his jaw.
“we can’t sleep here, you know.”
he huffs, pulling your head into the crook of his neck with trembling fingers. you nuzzle into his throat.
“why not?” he grumbles, fingers soothing through a knot in your hair.
“i’m not sleeping on the tile, you big baby. we have a bed.”
he pinches your earlobe and you squeak in protest. it makes him smile. right now, he feels more content than he thinks he’s ever, crowded on the shower floor with you.
.
.
this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.
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jingledbells · 2 months
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hey. I know this probably won’t help much, and you don’t even have to answer this if you don’t wish (I totally understand), but you are not alone. The b//frd stuff is genuinely stressing me out. It is literally everywhere. Not only that but people insisting and claiming it’s canon over and over again. I genuinely hate this ship with every fiber of my being so seeing it being shoved in my face over and over is just exhausting. I’ve quit going on many platforms for this sole reason, and I’m only still on tumblr because I can block tags and look at only blogs I follow (who post great content such as yours.) I felt stupid for this but it helps me that I’m not alone… I had a panic attack over this, too. I physically feel the anxiety after I see these posts over and over again. It’s making it hard for me to enjoy probably my favorite character in fiction ever (ford). So… yeah. I’m terrible at articulating my feelings sometimes, especially when they are a jumbled, anxiety riddled mess like this, but just know that there are some people out here who feel the same and know that romanizing their relationship is just… awful. Thank you for taking the time to read all this, and I do hope it’ll get better. At some point. It did help me to see I’m not alone in feeling this way (I sometimes feel alone because of the endless ship content), so thank you, I suppose. And I’m sorry if I’m making this about me too much, I just.. yeah, just wanted to talk about this a bit. We will get through this.
aww man I’m so sorry to hear u had to go through this too,,,I’m glad I’m not alone tho. it’s just so frustrating to see it fucking everywhere, it feels like I literally cannot enjoy anything anymore. the other day I tried to think about something non gf related and went into another ship tag and you wouldn’t believe the first thing I saw there. I’m so mad at this fandom right now and it physically pains me that so much of this fandom either doesn’t realize it’s abuse or knows and just refuses to treat it with tact and continues to romanticize it
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
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IM GONBA EAT MY PHONE MY FAVE OKIVER FICLET EVER ON THE DASHBOARD AGAIN.
“Every thrust and every soft angular drag of the head makes you feel like you're going to make a mess. And you have to keep quiet about it, because if Oliver found out you were on the brink of squirting all over him - he'd definitely make you do it more than once. " (HOT as fuck btw) // "Distantly, you hear your phone ring. It's face up on the coffee table, buzzing. Your boyfriends contact flashes' on the screen, the heart around his name makes you nauseated. A wave of an indescribable emotion passes through you as you look." (i'm literally so torn for them ?,!,&/'dlfn) // "No longer playfully sarcastic, but serious. There's something angry about it. Something so possessive about how deep he's trying to claim you" and THIS "He can't make you happy like I can," He whispers against the shell of your ear, tugging on the lobe as he fucks you through the waves of desire. "So stay focused and ignore his fucking calls when you're with me."
O-|<
your tw oliver tags and your anons are my roman empire
SDJKFHSDKJ THIS IS MAKING ME SO!!!
i wrote that entire drabble with my clit latched to keyboard . no thoughts head empty only toxic weenie . he makes me weird and disgusting and lovesick and it bothers me immensely so i have to post about it. but yeah he's uhm . well
THANK U FOR THIS ASK.... its making me blush to read it back ill be honest kjdkjsfk
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