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chrollohearttags · 6 months

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AU where y/n and producer eren were very much high school sweet hearts, then years later deciding to take their relationship to the next level as in losing their virginity 🙃

ANONNN, why’d you do me like thissss?? This is genius 😫 not even to spoil but this was literally the alternate plot line to reverb LSLFKFJ. Ugh this is just too damn cute so ofc imma talk about it.

content + themes: both reader and eren are virgins, reverb spoilers, lots of sweet stuff, bc I can’t handle angst rn, gentle sex/smut, accidental cream pie, this is SUPERRRRR long bc y’all know I love detail and got 20,000 pages of lore for these two!! Smut is at the end so if ya’ll can’t wait, I’m sorry.

eren left home at what would be considered incredibly young by most standards. At fifteen years old, he found himself frequenting the mall and playing basketball down at the local park in the suburbia of Montclair, New Jersey to being thrust into the fast paced lifestyle of Miami, Florida. The harsh, crime ridden town known as Opa Locka to be exact. A complete contrast by a long shot. Even so, with spite and determination on his heart; fueled only by his desire to win this illustrious battle called the rap game, he toughed it out and persevered. Not only that, to rid himself of the toxic past that had scarred him and a family who betrayed him. Make no mistake, his ‘privileged’ upbringing was nothing more than a mere experience and not a part of his identity. He never tried to pretend that he was ‘hard’ or tough, no need for a facade, he was simply Eren and that was all it took. He also never viewed anyone as different or beneath him because of how he grew up. Most of his friends back home came from very humble beginnings and had less than savory lifestyles. It wasn’t something he did for shock value or to piss of his parents. He just always had a knack for befriending others who may have been cast aside or forgotten about because he knew the feeling quite well. So it came as no surprise when he enrolled in the local high school to finish out his last couple years, he was a rarity in these parts…looking and acting completely different from everyone else. But it didn’t take long for the green eyed brunette with the buttery smooth voice and oblivious charm to assimilate.

“Wassup, EJ?” “Hey, EJ!”

from the classroom to the hallways, he was greeted by his fellow student body, who at first, saw him as an easy target. Alluding to the fact that he must’ve been some rich boy stuck in the middle of the hood to be “taught a lesson” or something of the sort. That it wouldn’t be two weeks because he was tucking tail and getting his ass back on the first bus to Jersey. Little did they know, he was the last person to back down and damn sure the last one to run from anyone! During gym class, there was a scrimmage basketball game, nothing too serious or exerting, just a little fun competition. It was then that not only did Eren catch the eye of the boy’s team head coach and that of (y/n) (l/n). Who had been discreetly seated against the wall after running two miles. You had been quietly observing the game and having grown up around tremendous players; spending afternoons down at the Boys and Girls Club..you recognized talent from a mile away. That also could’ve been attributed to the fact that you were the current co-captain of the majorette team, where you danced during games. Even so, you always stayed to yourself. Never really clinging to one group or another, truthfully only talking to your best friend. Your head in a book and studying was your only focus. That much was apparent by your four point two grade point average. Nonetheless, this new boy couldn’t help but to grab your attention. It was unfortunately for that reason, that his opponents once the game ended, would use that to his advantage.

not exactly keen on the idea of having somebody like him strutting around..besting them in a sport they’d always exceeded at and intriguing the girls who never even so much as paid them attention, they were pissed! So as anyone with stunted emotional maturity would, they decided to try and ambush the new student in the locker room. Granted, he was a little smaller and had just hit six foot one inches. He was fairly tall but still lanky and skinny. So he’d have his work cut out for him. Unsuspecting of the attack, he chopped it up with classmates and laughed on his way back. But not without flashing you a glance first. That ultimately made your heart flutter a little..you didn’t pay attention to boys often and had many speculating that you were possibly gay but no one had ever roused your fancy. In a way, you envied him. As someone from the proverbial ‘other side of the tracks’, who was different from you all in any facet was fitting in just fine! Quickly becoming the talk of the school. Meanwhile, you were a lifelong resident of this city and yet, you never drew any attention on yourself. Outside of your impeccable dancing. Hell, everyone always referred to you as ‘the quiet girl’. A moniker that you were proudly..the less you spoke, the less trouble you could find yourself in.

however, that peaceful life would come to an end when you’d walk towards the girls locker room and find yourself stopped by the gaggle of guys who were planning their ambush for after school whilst he was walking home. They figured he’d be an easy lick but they couldn’t be too relaxed. He mystified them all..acting completely oblivious to his environment, never behaving differently; talking exactly the same and all or even seeming afraid. He was the same person regardless of where he went. So that’s when they’d try to enlist your help. “Aye, (y/n). Lemme talk to you right quick..” waving you over and although you were about to ignore him, you accepted anyway. A tall dread head with a bottom row of golds gleaming from his mouth. Something he wasn’t supposed to have but did anyways. “I seen you looking at jit earlier, you like white boy, don’t you?” Immediately feigning any sort of confirmation. Acting uninterested as always. “That’s what you called me over here for? I gotta go change—“ but before you could coldly turn on your heel, he’d grab your shoulder and request a ‘simple’ favor:

“Help us set his ass up. He ain’t been here a whole month and already actin’ like he run this shit. We’ll even give you a cut.” but again, you didn’t care! Him or any of their petty jealousy was none of your concern. That boy hadn’t said the first word to you or even bothered you in the slightest. The hell did you look like conspiring with these dumbasses to not only bully him but to tarnish your hard work? Smacking your lips, you’d merely brush his hand away and continue to walk by. “As my granny says, you can’t get blood from a turnip. If you wanna risk jail for some stupid shit, do it by yourself. I’m not interested.” truthfully, Eren was no more wealthy than anybody here. Working odd jobs after school and rooming at a boys home on the southside. Hell, he could barely even afford lunch sometimes!

but alas, this only seemed to enrage your peers. See, the ring leader was the current basketball team captain and a shoe-in for first draft to a top college once he graduated. However, there was another side of him..a hothead with a bit of a past. Selling drugs and hanging with bad crowds..a mere product of the environment. But basketball was his ticket out. Hence was, considering that he stayed in trouble, grades were a wreck and he had a bad reputation. It was his exceptional skill that was keeping him in his spot and that alone. The coach overlooked a lot of his antics just to have a star player. Nothing new. However, with Eren on the scene, his position was threatened. Contrary to his belief, it had less to do with his skin and the fact that he was a better player with less of a headache! He had better grades, better manners and a lot more skill. Teachers constantly complained to the coach to kick him off the team so he could focus on his academic studies. Several calls were made home with no answer from parents..it was a crazy situation. Even so, it was no excuse for his behavior. Almost everyone here came from hard circumstances, he just loved acting this way!..especially when it came to preying on the weaker..

“Oh I see, you gon’ take his side but not mine? You green as hell, (y/n). Some ol’ weird ass shit, bruh. You really not tryna’ help me?…” even getting closer, despite your pushback. “Darius, imma tell you one more time. Leave me alone. Ion want no parts of this. It’s not my business.” But before you could do anything else, he’d grab your wrist and pull you back. A cliche if you had ever seen or experienced one. But just as the old time tale went, your knight and shining armor would swoop in to defend your honor.

“I think she said leave her alone.”

a familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard often but enough to recognize. The reason behind this whole ordeal..

“Wasn’t nobody talking to you. Mind your business.” “This is my business. Putting your hands on a girl..I see your sorry ass jump shot ain’t the only thing that’s weak.”

which only pissed him off even further. Long story short, he’d attempt to pick a fight with the ever so sly Eren but to no avail. He wasn’t taking the bait. Not out of fear but because he wasn’t worth the energy. Eren was a bit of a hothead, even admitting so himself. However, he couldn’t afford to screw up right now. Getting into unnecessary fights would only put him in an even worse situation..especially for the people caring for him. He had done that once and wasn’t about to let it happen again. “(Y/N), right? That’s your name?..” answering him with a nod. “Don’t worry about him. You go ahead, beautiful. He won’t do anything..I can promise you that.” Standing toe to toe with the taller bully. His cheeks puffed up and fuming in rage. Meanwhile, Eren wore nothing but a smirk. He could fume all he wanted but as long as he didn’t put his hands on him. If he took it there, then he’d be glad to show him why trying him wasn’t wise..

luckily, the coach noticed the bubbling scuffle and told them to break it up. Fast forward a few days, give or take and you’d see Eren around campus. Always carrying a pair of headphones and a notebook. Two things he’d never be caught without. One thing was for sure, he was an intriguing dude for sure..you’d eventually find yourselves paired up for a project and needless to say, you were incredibly nervous. Mainly because neither of you had spoken since that day in the gym. It wasn’t for a lack of you being thankful, you just didn’t know what to say. That was until you were in the library doing research together and you’d blurt out your gratitude, along with your apology. Which made him laugh! “What are you thanking me for? He only did that because of me. If anything I should apologize to you.” He was so respectful and bashful, qualities you truly admired. Although he remained shrouded in mystery, he was fascinating and you wanted to know more about him and turns out, you’d learn a pretty interesting tidbit of information! “You have a point. I mean, are you really planning to take his spot as captain though—“ which only further fueled his hysterics. He’d double over laughing and all you could do was give him a look of confusion. “Why are you laughing? I ain’t that funny.” “I’m sorry. I just..listen, I don’t know what you were told but I don’t want his spot. Basketball’s fun, it’s sum’ to do but I already know what I want.” And his answer would shock you, truly. See, Eren had always had an affinity for music. Singing, playing all sorts of instruments since he was a little kid and recently, he’d taken to writing his own songs. That infamous notebook he carried? Filled with poems and songs about everything from basic lines to his deepest emotions. Spilling his heart onto the page as he talked about his family, his anger towards his father and even the loss of someone he held dear to him. Sometimes, they weren’t about him at all..they were just vivid portrayals of elusive tales. He obviously had quite the story to tell but he couldn’t do it or even have the time shooting balls into a hoop. He told the coach he’d consider but his true goal?

“You wanna be the drum major?!” “Yeah, why not? I mean, I know it’s prolly lame but it’s one of my favorite instruments. It was the first one I learned..to me, the drum line is the highlight of the game. They make it entertaining.”

but little did he know, he had piqued your interest for sure! You were so flustered you tried to feign it off but he was too freaking cute! Here you were expecting this athletic, cocky playboy who only cared about girls and being popular but he was so much more than you expected! A nerd just like you. And you knew so for the fact that you’d never held a conversation with a man longer than to give them the answer to a question or let them borrow a textbook. He was so captivating. But perhaps, getting to do incredible solos at halftime wasn’t his only motivation to join the school music program. He had other reasons as well..

“Besides..I would actually get to see you perform. I call it a win.” Causing you to scoff, dismissing his seemingly perverted comments.. “Oh, so you just like everybody else.” but the tension was misplaced. He admired your craft and respected it. Seeing you doing your moves while walking past the gym on his way home, how hard you worked and just overall how graceful you looked. Not to mention, you were drop dead gorgeous! The prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on.. “..I seen you practicing the other day and you’re really good, (y/n). You’re completely different when you’re dancing. You seem really happy..I mean, you make the dance team from my school back home look like stiff ass robots.” Earning his first giggle out of you. From that day forward, a beautiful friendship blossomed..studying together, eating lunch in the library, walking home with you as his group home wasn’t far away, sneaking into the chorus room so you could hear him playing the piano and singing. A privilege reserved strictly for you. Making you sob when you heard his rendition of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Ribbon In The Sky.’ He was so kind, sweet and it didn’t take long before rumors of you guys dating began to permeate through the school. Hallway whispers of you ‘going with that new boy’. It was all the rave. It didn’t help matters any when at the mention of each other’s names, you’d both freeze up like popsicles! It was adorable, really. A budding crush that would soon bloom into something far more than just a platonic bond. After about six months into his arrival at your school, Eren had undoubtedly made a name for himself for not only his basketball skills but his musical ones as well. He had made good on his promise to join the band and make his first step toward becoming drum major. Because the band and majorette team often performed together, you’d be together at practice also and eventually, became inseparable. Flashing you smiles and watching intently while you performed your solos. Him joining proved to be a great addition to an already powerful band because he was so talented and kept up quite nice. In no time flat, he mastered the quads and studied underneath the current drum major, playing at games. Even when he decided to cave and accept the offer to join the basketball team, he had the pleasure of seeing you dance during intermission and even greeting him after the game with a giant hug. You in your shimmering leotard and him in his drenched basketball uniform.. number nineteen printed on the back.

“You looked good out there, princess.” A name he affectionately called you because your team’s competitive name were the Crowned Royalty as your school mascot were knights. And because you often times outshined the reigning captain, you were dubbed “The Princess.” Besides, it sounded so much better coming from him. “Nah, that was all you, Mr. Star Player.” It didn’t take long before he’d do the one thing everyone had been waiting on and ask you to be his girlfriend! With encouragement from his teammates and homeboys, Connie Springer and Onyakopon. They too treated you like a little sister, always teasing you and making sure you were good in Eren’s absence. “You one of us so we gotta make sure you good.” They all worked together at a local shoe store and stayed only three houses down from one another so they spent a lot of time together. In addition to their shared passion and talent with music. Granted, neither of you had experience with dating or having many friendships for that matter but it felt so natural when you were around each other. His cheeks flushed with red the entire time he held your hand on the way to class. Your entire body trembling when he kissed your forehead because you were too scared to kiss on the lips at the time. Even sitting next to him and his friends at lunch was an experience. Listening to them freestyle and make beats. Your best friend Niesha, right beside you, teasing you about how cute your man was and how you’d gotten lucky. And all you could do was shake your head. Eventually, all five of you became thick as thieves. Hanging out after school, going roller skating on weekends when practice permitted and just stayed in your own little bubble. You loved it so much. It was the first time you’d ever had a friends’ group, a true support system.

your grandmother and sole caretaker since you were a kid was absolutely thrilled to see it. Although you called her your best friend, she was happy to see you coming home excited to tell her about something besides a book or your report card. As proud as she was of her baby, she wanted you to experience life. Often times, she’d invite all of them over and cook you all large meals that were nothing short of heaven! Repayment for the boys coming by to mow the grass or help with repairs. They were more than thrilled to do it. “My future grandson in law is a nice young man, ain’t he?” A statement you’d brush off with a smack of your lips. “Cut it out, granny. Ain’t even like that.” She adored Eren and when she learned that he could sing, knowing a few gospel songs as well..she all but claimed him now! He was family and you were so glad that he was in your life. A likewise feeling because for once, he felt as if he belonged. One night, while meeting at your usual spot in the park, high on top of a jungle gym where you’d gaze under the stars, you’d ask him one thing:

“You ever thought about what you want to do with your life?”

and to him, that answer was simple. “..I wanna change the world.”

a dream he’d held onto for as long as he could remember. He loved music more than anything and he wanted his to transcend any genre, any one archetype. He wanted what he created to someone’s reason for living, someone’s inspiration to keep going even when things got dark. He wanted it to put smiles on the faces of people who listened..he didn’t care about awards or being some mega celebrity, he just wanted to pour his heart into what he made and hoped somebody heard his passion.

“And I want you right beside me…(y/n). I don’t wanna do any of this without you.” Clutching your hand atop the structure. He had never been this vulnerable or open with anyone in his life but now was a good of time as any to start.. “..I know everybody prolly thinks I’m some spoiled rich kid who left home just to piss off my folks. Honestly, their opinions stopped meaning anything to me a long time ago..my mom, I love her so much and I really do miss her. I hope one day I can step to her as a man and apologize for putting her through so much. Making her worry about me…” as he spoke, you could feel the tension in his hand as he squeezed yours. This was the first time he’d spoke in detail as to why he was alone down here in such a dangerous city when he by all accounts lived lavishly back home. “I just couldn’t stay..not when my own old man is a fucking coward. I know it’s a long shot but at least I can stand on it. Him? He’ll sell his soul for a dollar. I could never be under the same roof as someone like that. I will do this and I’ll prove him wrong. I’ll make a way for myself so I never have to depend on anybody ever again.” You couldn’t help but to feel that you were missing part of the story but maybe it was something far too traumatizing to hash out in detail right now so as you’d always done, you’d support him. Cradling your arms around him with a giant hug before kissing his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you, Eren. I promise. I know you’ll make it and I wanna be right there by your side. I love you.” “I love you too, (y/n).” Words that sounded insane from a teenager but you meant it. Meant it more so than anything you’d ever said! Some people would say you were too young to know what you wanted but you both knew that no matter what path you took, as long as you walked it together, you were unstoppable!

soon, graduation was right around the corner. You two attended prom together, even made homecoming king and queen and by all accounts, had an amazing senior year! You guys turned eighteen only a couple months apart and thus, were thrusted into adulthood. Working here and there to provide for yourselves all while chasing your dreams. You’d gotten accepted into the University of Miami on a dance scholarship and even though it was a huge opportunity..your heart was misplaced. You felt like another cog in the wheel and a moving piece on a machine. You’d love to dance your entire life but you wanted something more than this. Stiff eight counts and bland rehearsals. Something refreshing..that’s when you’d begin taking pole classes outside of school! An idea you came up with after seeing a popular dancer on Instagram and she looked so graceful..surrounded by plants with her beautiful afro as she swung around the pole. She looked so free!…you wanted to experience that joy too. It took no time at all for you to master the craft and just like that, your spark was reinvigorated. By this time, Eren was all but halfway to his own goal after going viral for singing in the store he worked at and still very much an important fixture in your life. He managed to catch the eye of one of the industry’s top executives and legendary musician herself, Vivian James. She was one of your grandmother’s favorites, despite being younger than her. This woman had a powerhouse of a voice and needless to say, Eren’s had her intrigued.

“You did it, ‘ren. I’m so proud of you, baby!”

although he hadn’t quite made it yet it was one hell of a start. It wouldn’t be easy but he was willing to put in every bit of the work it took to succeed. Having you there to encourage him would be all the strength he needed to keep going. But he wanted to support your dreams as well! He never wanted this relationship to be one sided. “What about you, princess? Do you really like dancing for the school? Are you happy?” If anyone could see through the facade, it was your boyfriend of almost three years. He saw how amazing you were when you did pole. It didn’t matter which avenue of dance you took, you excelled but he’d never seen you more happy than when you were twirling midair and doing all these crazy stunts. He wanted you to be safe, of course, but he wanted to find joy in something the way he did. “I just..I don’t want to do what everyone else is doing or what they expect of me. I loved majorette but pole is just so different. I have so much fun.” There it was, a glimmer in your eye that couldn’t be sated when you spoke about it. The rush you felt setter coming down from a death drop. Eventually, you’d go on to quit the dance team, forfeiting your scholarship but your grades alone afforded you many other grants and things so you’d do online classes while working for your uncle’s shop and practicing under his wing. Eventually you found the courage to upload yourself online and it wasn’t long before you reached your own bit of notoriety. Captivating thousands with not only your skills but your stunning looks. Eren always called you princess but honestly, you were like a divine being. A goddess and sometimes, not even he could believe you were real.

before either of you knew it, you were nearing twenty and your dreams were falling into place. It seemed as if the hard times and rainy days both of you had gone through were over. You were so ecstatic when he got his own place, after securing and successfully completing an audition with AMG. The biggest talent agency in the country. Along side his two best friends nonetheless and eventually asked you to move in with him. But it wasn’t the only proposal he had. No, there was something else he needed to ask you..so with trembling hands, tearful eyes and in the same empty park where you’d spend countless nights talking about your futures; surrounded by faux candlelight and roses, he’d ask the one thing you never thought you’d hear:

“Will you marry me, (y/n) (l/n)? Will you do this forever with me?”

and it was no question! The answer was yes, a million times over! That night, the two of you exchanged intense, heavy kisses and warm, inviting touches underneath the moonlight of your very first place. A one bedroom apartment but it didn’t matter. It felt like a castle; an unreal fantasy when you had him. You’d let him caress and run his hands along your body. Kissing and licking your neck on the frameless mattress as your nude bodies entangled in the white sheet covering them. Neither of you had ever done anything like this before and although you were nervous as all hell, you were ready. Ready to take this next step. When you were in school, so many other kids were already going the extra mile and some had even fallen pregnant by the time you graduated. But your love was so pure and innocent, sex seemed like a foreign concept. It was the furthest thing from your minds. You enjoyed being around each other. The feeling you derived just from when he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest with a kiss to your forehead. You never felt pressured to lose your virginity because you knew that a moment like this would make it all the more special and that he’d be the only one you’d share it with. So in that moment, Eren moved his tongue down your body, kissing and marking your neck with a trail of sloppy pecks. Your hands trailed up his back that had now been stamped with his first tattoo. His hair..that once tapered brown haired cut was dangling in front of your face as half of it remained tied into a bun. He had often dreamed about what this moment would consist of..how it would feel to be given the flower of his beloved. To ‘pop’ your cherry and have the honor of being your first and vice versa. Would he hurt you? Would he fuck it up? His only true goal was to know that you were feeling good. He didn’t want to sound like a weird degenerate but his only experience was through videos and his hand. And yours? He was scared! So terrified that you had to grab his shoulders and tell him to breathe as he was trembling when he began to touch your sensitive center.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just us here…take your time. You’re doing so good..”

only backed up when he slowly circulated his fingers around on your clit and watched you writhe in pleasure. Whimpering and crying out his name. It was so slippery and juicy but he assumed that was a good thing from the way you rutted your hips and pushed down on the single digit that he put inside of you. “Oh my God…Eren that feels so good!..” “It does? I’m so glad, baby.. can I keep keep going, like that?” Watching you break into a smile as your eyes squeezed shut was as close to nirvana as he could get. He loved seeing you happy. Breathing heavier and begging for more when you added another and stimulated you even more. You were so incredibly tight that he was sweating bullets, wondering how he’d be able to fit inside of you. How could he top this moment?…carefully examining your body; that gorgeous skin, those perfectly round breasts that had grown exponentially since he’d first met you, dark nipples erect and drenched in his saliva as he kissed them softly and those curves that had only filled out in all the right places. He wanted to adore this beautiful body forever..make love to you until he perfected it. Until he could know every bump, line and curve that made up your frame. So much so that even in absence, you’d crave one another and no one else could ever fill that void. He wanted to love you with his eyes closed. To know every tick, every like, dislike and point that made you explode with pleasure. He wanted to be yours in flesh, mind and spirit until you both left this earth.

eventually, you’d find yourself squirming around in the sheets and with his fingers alone, you’d reach your very first orgasm! The feeling was so indescribable, you couldn’t even speak. Only curse and flail around, which he thought was so cute. Chuckling as he pulled you to his chest with a cooing tone. “Aw, baby. It’s okay. There you go, just let it out.” Embarrassed by the fact that you let out a gentle stream of liquid, thinking you had actually urinated but it was the furthest thing from. “Trust me, that’s not what happened. It’s okay, beautiful.” Neither of you even gave a damn. All you wanted was to experience him in his entirety. You’d look down and see that his cock was stiff. Swollen, thick and glowing red at the tip. You’d never seen one in real life but by comparison, it was huge and you were so scared, your knees pushed together and began to buckle as you swallowed a large gulp, wondering how you were supposed to take all of that inside of you… “..we can go slow. We don’t have to fit it all at once. You just let me know how much you can handle, okay baby?” Seemingly trying to console you when he was all but losing his mind. Slowly but surely, his tip would make place atop your overly sensitive slit. Splitting open your folds with that puffy mushroom tip. Bright red and dripping with cum..he was so ready to make you his. “Eren…” hearing the nervous yet needy quiver in your voice made him twitch on his own but he’d merely chuckle, reaching down to stroke your face. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care you, okay princess? Here, hold my hands.” without hesitation, completing devoting yourself to him, you’d intertwine your fingers with his own as he integrated from the top to the inside of your warm center. Both of you broke into a high pitched gasp, never experimenting such a sensation before. It was truly like magic..

“Oh fuck..” the words escaping each of your lips as the same time, so much so, it made you and him break into a giggle. The realization of the moment setting on you both. “We’re actually doing this, huh?” “..yeah, but I wouldn’t want it with anyone else..” with that, he’d lean down and brush the side of your face as he began to buck his hips. “I’m gonna start moving, okay? You just let me know if I need to stop..” acknowledging his question with a nod, he’d persist forth and keep pushing. One slow stroke turned into two and before he knew it, he had established a rhythm. Being as gentle and doting as possible. That tight flesh sucking him in with each thrust but still not giving way..you’d squirm and whimper but all from pleasure. You’d claw at his sides and although your eyes were shut tight, you’d let him know that you were alright. Eventually, that room filled with soft cries and the two of you uttering each others names, along with lewd moans. “It’s..so good! Fuck…” “..please, keep moving..don’t stop, Eren.” Begging for more, despite the fact that his shaft had become coated in a very thin sheath of blood and a few tears trailed down your cheek. Signifying that he had finally unwrapped the gift that you’d waited so long for him to claim. The mattress began to jolt around and the floor underneath creaking from the sounds of your lovemaking. That red liquid soon replaced by a clear mucus and his dick nestled inside of you to the halfway mark. What felt like an eternity was in reality..only five minutes and already, he was about to tap out. Panting and breathing heavily as that pace sped up. His pattern was off kilter but he still had you clawing for the sheets, screaming his name. “Yes, baby! Right there, I can feel it again. I’m gonna—“ but before you could announce your own climatic peak, he’d beat you to the punch and without thinking or warning, he’d let out a loud cry, sobbing even and spouting expletives the entire time as a warm load filled your newly defiled cunt. He was in such shock, it didn’t even dawn on him until he’d look down and see it spilling out of you.

“I—shit. I wasn’t supposed to do that. I’m so sorry, (y/n)!” But it was fine. You trusted him so dearly, the two of you forgot any protection. Luckily, you had long been on birth control for reasons unrelated to sex so you weren’t scared. Besides, in that moment, all you knew was that you wanted more. You didn’t want this moment to cease for anything. “It’s okay, baby..I’m fine. Come here..” beckoning him towards you so you could get another one of those divine kisses. It was the best part. With you both having experienced that high for the first time, you didn’t want to come down so for the entire duration of that night, the two of you made love. Exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies. Laughing, kissing, touching and making blunders..the joy that could only come from true lovers. A long time coming certainly, but a moment nonetheless that was worth the wait. By the time you finished, you were both an emotional wreck. Crying but only out of pure rejoice. Having given yourself to the one man that you’d love for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Eren..”

“I love you more, (y/n)..”

and this time, there was no question, hesitation or doubt when those words were uttered. You were older now and for a flame that everyone was certain would die out, it was now burning brighter than ever.

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 5 months

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Pairing : Dad!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : reader is pregnant ; reader and soobin panic ; Jisung is pretty pissed off ; arguing ; Jisung groveling ; mentions of previous cheating ; manipulation ; it's still angst! Word Count : 2.5k Request : It was definitely asked for and you all shall receive even more angst!! A/N : I hope you all are enjoying these! Only 2 more angsty dads to go!!

There was no time to prepare, although you weren’t sure how you were supposed to prepare for something like this when you weren’t planning on it happening at all, or at least not in the near future. This surely wasn’t how you planned on Jisung finding out that you were pregnant though, You didn’t even plan on him finding out you were pregnant, you were going to tell him after you already had the kid and settled into parenthood yourself.

To say less, you were absolutely freaking out, and so was Soobin. “What are we supposed to do?” He asked, his eyes wide as he looked around at all of the baby necessities that filled the small dorm. “There’s nowhere to put all this stuff! Oh my god!” If you were in the right headspace, you’d be able to tell him to calm down. Sadly, you weren’t, and you were unable to calm yourself down.

You didn’t know how long it would take for Jisung to come over. You weren’t sure if he knew where their dorms were, but you were sure it would be easy for him to find out considering he was famous as well and he could say literally anything as a reason and people would be none the wiser as to what he was really up to. “Fuck, I don’t know Soobin! Maybe… Maybe I can keep him out in the hallway or something. It’s not like he has to come in… Right?” You were nodding along with your own words, hoping that Soobin would follow suit and nod along with you.

But, Jisung is quite unpredictable, and even if you wanted to stay out in the hallway the entire time, he’d find some reason to make his way into the dorm, and upon second thought, maybe it would just be easier to get the blowup over with first and hope that it dies out quickly.

///

A loud rap at the door had you and Soobin looking up, but neither of you moved from where you were sitting, contemplating whether the person at the door was Jisung at all or just some random delivery driver leaving another package of baby supplies. “I know you’re in there! Answer the door!” Jisungs voice made its way clearly through the wood of the door and gave you the answer to the question you had been asking yourself, although it wasn’t the answer you were hoping for.

It’s not like he would do anything, he’d most likely just cry while talking to you even after seeing everything, but for some reason both you and Soobin were hesitant to let him in. “Y-You open the door…” You whispered to Soobin, nudging him lightly off the couch as you curled up into yourself. It’s not that you were showing, not a lot really, but now with the eyes that you knew would soon be on you, you felt like you looked a whole lot more pregnant than you did a week ago.

There was no way to prepare yourself for the way that Jisung would be, mainly because you weren’t sure how he would be. Would he be sad or angry? Would he even notice all the items in the dorms or would he just run over to you and try to beg you to come back? Would he notice something different about you, something that not even you or Soobin or the rest of the guys could pick up on since they were always around you? These questions kept running and running through your mind until you heard the click of the lock and Jisung came running in.

“Y/N!” His voice came shrill and loud through the front hall, and in a blink he was standing right above you, looking down at you, but you kept your head lowered and your shirt pulled over your knees to try to make a tent over your stomach. “Look, I know that right now is… weird, it’s a weird time, and I know that what I did… I still regret it… I feel awful and…” He took a deep breath, and then there was silence. You didn’t want to look up, you didn’t want to meet his eyes, but a quick glance had you finally understanding the silence as you watched him look around the room. “What… What’s all that… What’s all this stuff for?”

“I don’t think that right now is a good time…” Soobin murmured, walking over to the couch and trying to put some space between you and Jisung. “She’s kind of tired and stress isn’t really good for her right now. She’s been dealing with a lot lately and… It’s kind of just… Like a respect thing. If you could just respect that… You know?” Soobin stammered, rambling on and on, trying his best to keep things calm, but you could tell that Jisung was getting agitated. The way his breaths picked up in pace, the way he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and almost aggressively shoved his twitching hands into his pockets, as if he was trying to keep himself from doing something that he would regret.

“This is stuff… Stuff for a baby… For a literal baby. That’s a whole fucking crib box right there!” He pointed to the discarded box in the corner of the room. “And there’s… There’s diapers and… Who’s kid is it?” He asked, quite sternly now as he pointed his focus back at you, but you didn’t answer. You were silent, much like you should have been when Jisung had called Soobin earlier. “Who’s kid is it? Did you even have it yet?” He continued questioning, and you could tell that Soobin was getting antsy, rocking back and forth, from one foot to the other as the tension only grew.

“I didn’t want to tell you…” You mumbled, wrapping your arms tighter around your legs to pull them closer to you. “It doesn’t even make a difference… You still fucked up, and it’s not like I’d ever take you back.” And for the first time since he’s been there, you looked up at him. His mouth was slightly agape as his eyes blinked rapidly, as if trying to process and understand what you meant. “It’s yours… But that doesn’t mean that I’m getting back with you… I’ll-”

“Mine?” He asked, as if looking for reassurance that what he had heard had been correct, and you nodded your head to affirm it. “So you’re telling me that… You’re pregnant… You must be really pregnant if you’re already buying stuff… And you didn’t even tell me!? What kind of shit is that?! I might have fucked up and cheated on you, but what you’re doing… That’s majorly fucked up! You’re trying to hide my kid from me?!”

“Hey!” Soobin shouted, finally stepping in once Jisungs voice had risen to a volume that was unacceptable to both him and you. “She didn’t even know until a week ago! Don’t come into my house yelling at her about it! I’ll kick you out! I’ll have you escorted out!” Soobin threatened, and it was strange to see him like that, he was usually so quiet, especially in comparison to the other guys in the dorm. He was quite protective over you, like a brother would be with their sister. He wasn’t going to just let Jisung yell at you without doing something about it.

“So you found out a week ago and what? You were just going to hide it from me? You could have told me when you found out but you didn’t. How far along are you, huh?! When were you planning on telling me?! That’s my kid! Fuck!” Jisung ran his hands through his hair, turning around to pace back and forth between the front door and the couch you were still sitting on, clearly pissed off and shocked from the sudden news.

“Telling you would have been the easiest fucking thing for me to do, Jisung!” You shouted back, on the verge of tears now. As if you weren’t going through enough, he just had to come here and make it worse. “I just found out that I’m 5 months pregnant, I have to figure out what the hell I’m going to do and where I’m going to stay and how I’m going to take care of the baby! The last thing I thought of was calling you and delivering the news because I still had to fucking come to terms with it!” You were breathless, your words, although meant to be shouted, sounded more like choked off sobs, and by the time you were done the attempt at yelling you were full on crying.

Jisung paused, and now both you and Soobin were glaring at him, although Soobins look was far angrier, while yours most likely looked a bit pathetic as the tears streamed down your face. “5?” Jisung whispered, clearly trying to do the calculations in his head. “How did you… How do you not know that you’re pregnant for 5 months?” His voice was so quiet, you weren’t sure whether he was asking himself the question or if it was meant for you. “Do you know what it is?” He finally spoke up, looking directly at you, although it was Soobin who answered.

“It’s a boy. She’s having a boy, and while what she said might worry you, her and the baby will be fine. They’ll be able to stay here until she gets back on her feet. Myself and the guys will help her in any way that we can, and she knows that.” Soobin finally dropped down on the couch, placing a hand over yours in an act of both comfort and support, but the gesture was looked at in a completely different way by Jisung.

“Oh?! So you’re just gonna let her stay here? That’s what you want me to believe?!” He was once again shouting, but there were obvious tears forming on his lashes as he stared between you and Soobin. “Like you haven’t taken enough from me?! You’ve taken my fiancee! I know that I messed up there, I know that I made the biggest mistake and I regret that, I’ll regret it until the day I die… But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you take my son away from me too!”

Soobin looked completely shocked and you were absolutely mortified by the assumption that Jisung was making, and although he hadn’t verbally said it, you knew just what he was thinking. “Nobody is taking anything away from you, Jisung.” You said flatly, pulling your hand away from Soobins only to cross your arms over your chest. “I never said that I’d keep him from you. But you’re not going to go around making accusations that I’m with him-” You motioned to Soobin before continuing. “Just because you can’t have me back, and that’s one thing I’m dead set on. I will never go back with you.”

Jisung nodded his head slowly, as if trying to process what you had just told him, but you could see him struggling to fully grasp it. “So… our son has to grow up with separated parents? He has to spend his life wondering why his mother and his father aren’t together…? You really want him to question that? That’s not fair to him…”

If you were foolish, his words would have had you thinking, maybe even second guessing staying apart from him… But you knew better. You weren’t going to let him use your son to guilt trip you into taking him back. “No… It’s not fair to him… It’s not fair to either of us that you think that you get to go out and cheat and have all the fun you want and still come home to a perfect little life. So yes, he has to grow up with separated parents, and he has to grow up wondering why we’re not together… And you are to blame for that, and you can deal with the guilt and the burden of his questions when he’s old enough to ask them. It’s your fault, and you will deal with the consequences of it.” You finally got up off the couch, the loose shirt you were wearing slightly flared around your stomach that had become just big enough for Jisung to notice the change. “Now, I will do what I feel is the right thing to do, and I will notify you of doctors appointments, I will update you on how the baby is doing, and I will call you when I finally go into labor. After that, I will contact you only in regards to the baby and how he is and when you can see him. Other than that, I do not want to talk to you, I do not want to see you, I don’t want anything to do with you unless it’s regarding our son.”

“So that’s really how it’s going to be? You don’t even want to try? Not even for him?” Jisung took a step closer to you, his eyes practically glued to your stomach. “I haven’t even… I haven’t been with anyone. I’ve just been thinking about you… About us… And now with a baby on the way, we could have a family… We could be perfect. Just a chance, a second chance, that’s all I’m asking for… I won’t mess it up this time, I swear. I only want you… You’re all I’ve ever wanted, baby… You know that. I made a mistake and-”

“And I really think it’s time for you to leave.” Soobin jumped in, noticing the way your body was tense and your breaths had become more rapid, although he wasn’t sure if it was because you were upset or if you were just becoming more and more pissed with every word that Jisung was saying. “Thank you so much for the unannounced visit and the unnecessary added stress. It’s been nice seeing you and I’m sure it won’t be the last time, but Y/N needs some rest now.” Soobin ushered Jisung to the door, his hand pressed against his back to try to push him out.

“Just think about it!” Jisung shouted as he was led out into the hall. “I don’t want you to do this by yourself! He should have his real father around! Think about what I said, baby! I love you! I love you so fucking much!” He was still shouting to you as the door was shut in his face and quickly locked. It was only when things had finally grown silent that Soobin walked over to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder to try to comfort you, and you quickly melted into his warmth, crying silently against his chest.

“What did I do? I didn’t want this… I just… I had to tell him… right? It was the right thing to do… Wasn’t it?” You whimpered, looking up at Soobin with tear filled eyes, and he quickly wiped away the stray tears that fell down your cheeks.

“You did the right thing… It was… But you won’t have to deal with him by yourself. You know that myself and the guys would never make you do that. We’re here for you… Always…” Soobin murmured, gently pulling you against his chest once more, his chin resting atop your head. “Things are going to be fine… I promise.”

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s3crificialbrides · 27 days

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MUKAMI HOUSEHOLD HC’S

A/n: Long time no see!! Work and life got super crazy but I’ve been indulging in Diabolik Lovers again! Alongside that! For a few months I’ve been rewriting DL (more like my own au!!) just small tweaks and adding more realistic characterizations to characters I enjoy! So I decided to make a list of my headcanons for the Mukami household + Yui (she’s my beauty)

TW: slight mention and hint at abuse, mention of sexual abuse, mention of animal death

Take all of these at face value I’ve done my research to the best of my abilities and are basing this off of the things I’ve read, played, and watched! Plus my own little personal things!

- A quieter household. Each brother seems to have their own hobbies and tends to stick to themselves. This doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy each others company, they seem like the only group to like REALLY enjoy being around each other. Brother banter and all that nonsense.

- isn’t the safest but compared to the Sakamaki household Yui is in less danger. She actually spends more time pursuing schooling and smaller hobbies here without much backlash. Yuma and her garden often and Ruki helps her study. But of course this kinda stuff is paid back in blood so, you win some loose some

- Yuma will tease all 3 brothers for their height, I believe this may be canon? But it’s really Kou he has spats with over their heights. As an idol Kou is notoriously over dramatic and borderline narcissistic (and very full of himself) so he’s kinda pissy Yuma hangs his height over his head, but it’s all in good fun! (Usually)

-Yui and Ruki don’t really get along in the beginning. Which duh, but after a long period of time Yui began to get annoyed with being bossed around? I mean I would to, so he kinda grossed her out. Too much like an Ayato Reiji mix

- it’s mentioned either that in a CD or clip from more blood (the game) that Yui housed a kitten and was healing it back to health and Ruki killed it. This also kinda solidified their relationship into not being great. Yui believes very strongly in her morals and Ruki is one to oppose them. Meaning that in her eyes he’s cruel and in his she’s weak.

- Azusa is super interested in religions. Not like in them but he thinks the rules and regulations are kinda interesting to look into, he asks Yui a lot of questions about her faith and what it means to her.

- Yuma and Yui get along the best, the brothers were once human and I feel like don’t lack empathy to the extent pure bloods do. Course they will make comments that have Yui going “???” Because they are still entitled vampires

- The kinda group to have annoying ass orders at cafes. They don’t go out as a group much but when they get the chance they do. So when Yui joined she tagged along (of course they were like helicopter parents). Kou wants something sweet all the time so it’s either a milkshake/frappe nonsense, Ruki is the one who makes in super obvious he “just wants a black coffee. Black, no sugar or cream”, now Azusa’s order isn’t hard but he’s so quiet that it’s hard to catch it all so it’s usually made wrong on accident. Yuma sticks to the same thing but it’s a coffee with like 13 different steps that by the end it’s like a concoction of sugar, cream, flavoring, and coffee.

- Yui has an easy order, usually a tea. She avoids most coffee’s due to her sleep already being out of whack

- Yui has nightmares often due to the abuse she’s faced and she’s semi opened up to Azusa abt them in passing but tends to shut it down if pried.

- Ruki is stressed almost always. With the stress of being Adam kinda solely falling on his shoulders he doesn’t sleep often or even at all.

- this is supposedly canon but, Yuma likes bigger curvy girls in my mind :3

- Kou likes Kesha, Megan, and other female rap/pop artists. I also feel like Yui also dabbles with that kinda music but it isn’t her favorite

- Yuma’s the kinda brother that gives his brothers the faulty gaming controller :/

- Yuma and Kou smoke weed 100% idk I feel like they’d enjoy it, Ruki has a few times but usually just tells them off. Azusa has zero interest, Yui also has dabbled and she enjoyed it but getting high with like supernatural creatures can be… anxiety inducing?

- Ruki seems like one of those kids who’d have a super non trad kinda pet? Idk a snake or something. Not messy, loud, and chill

- Kou seems like the type to be sex repulsed often? He’s an idol and gets sexualized a lot in the limelight so bad correlation but even if he hates it he still does it to Yui

- Yui also is very sex repulsed

- yuma has a hard time coming to terms with his past with Shuu? It’s a weird grief thingy

- I feel like sometimes, only sometimes, they miss being human. I believe it’s semi mentioned already. But I feel like when Yui started living with them they started noticing that feeling more in an angry/sad way.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #diahell #dialovers #headcanons #yuma mukami #ruki mukami #kou mukami #azusa mukami #yui komori

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. ii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter

chapter summary: Joel tries, and fails, to keep Sarah away from you, and you get to know the family across the street a little bit better. It’s a slow burn, so let the yearning begin, baby! pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 7.7k chapter warnings: some light angst, alcohol use, references to marijuana use, parental neglect. divorce mention, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues - shocker! a/n: Was absolutely floored by the love on part one. Seriously you all are the best. I hate doing chapter summaries because I don't like giving away too much info, so I'd suggest just reading this. This story might end up being a longer than six parts, because I don't want to rush anything and it's been really fun to write these relationships as they form! Let me know what you think :)

-March 25th, 2003-

Joel cannot keep Sarah away from you.

Unfortunately, he can’t blame her. Unlike him, she doesn’t need an excuse to show up on your doorstep after school and on the weekends to be in your company. Still, he doesn’t technically know you that well, and he imagines you didn’t intend to see her as often as you did after extending some kindness to his family for one night.

Despite the two of you having not spoken since you helped him with the Tommy situation, Joel feels like he knows you, or is getting to know you, just from the snippets of information Sarah drops to him, which is then followed by a barrage of questions.

“Do you know she grew up in New York City? Have you ever been there?”

“She gave me her old tennis racket. Do you think I could start taking lessons?”

“She says her brother got her front-row tickets to The Strokes last year. You like them, don’t you?”

Joel decides to give Sarah a talking to about her tendency to wander over to your house whenever she sees your car in the driveway. Perhaps you are just being friendly, and feel bad saying no each time she’s asked to come in. He tries to broach the subject with her one morning in the kitchen while she’s eating breakfast. They’re already running behind, her for school, himself for work, but neither of them are in a rush. If you’re already late, what’s an extra ten minutes?

“Take it easy, alright? She might not want company after a long day at work,” Joel leans over the countertop, hand wrapped around a mug of hot coffee, watching her shovel cereal in her mouth.

“Dad, she said I could come over whenever,” It’s accompanied by an eye roll, which is a new thing that had started about six months back. Teenagers. Well, almost teenagers. She’s still the sweet kid he’s always known, he’s just playing with fire trying to talk to her at seven in the morning, an indent on the side of her face still fading from where she slept on a crumpled pillow.

Joel was at least grateful that she did have occasional company on nights when he was working late. It made him feel better to know Sarah wasn’t alone.

“What do you even do over there?”

“Homework, reading….watching TV.”

“So the same thing you do here?”

Sarah thinks about it. “Well, no, because she’s teaching me to knit.”

“And what does she do while you do your homework?”

“She works too. Or makes calls.” Sarah smiles a little. “It sounds like people ask her for advice a lot. She does give good advice.”

“Better than mine?” Joel holds his hand over his heart with mock offense.

Sarah groans. “Relax, don’t get jealous…there’s just stuff I can talk to her about and not you. Girl stuff.”

“Girl stuff? What like, boys?”

“No, you wouldn’t get it.”

“I was a boy once.”

“Ew, dad, gross.”

“How is that gross?”

“Just- not everything is about boys, okay?”

Joel isn’t going to argue with that, and Sarah eventually goes back to finishing her cereal.

“Alright babygirl,” he raps his knuckles on the counter after he’s finished his coffee. “I’ve gotta load up the truck, and you better get going, or I’m gonna get an earful from Miss Davis.” He grabs his keys and his wallet, then yanks a baseball cap over his mess of hair that’s long overdue for a haircut.

“Oh, I bet she would love an excuse to talk to you,” Sarah slides out of her seat with her empty bowl and marches towards the sink to rinse it out, grabbing his empty mug on the way.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you remember how giggly she was at parent-teacher conferences?” Sarah says. “I’ve never seen her so happy before.”

It’s Joel’s turn to roll his eyes. He’d pegged it as unusual, but never considered it was because Miss Davis was into him. He wishes Sarah isn’t so….observant.

Over the years, Joel has basically kept his head down, doing his best to keep things together. Because of that, he feels like he’s sort of lost his ability to pick up on when women are interested in him. And it’s safe to say, in general, he’s had a pretty uneventful love life since Sarah’s mom left.

For the most part, he got by on flings — one night stands, casual no-strings-attached arrangements that always fizzled out. Joel had never been a man who liked that sort of thing, and ultimately craved a deeper level of intimacy, companionship, but he had trouble sustaining anything more. And even when he thinks of the more serious relationships he’d had over the years, those were also never completely satisfying.

The fact of the matter was that when you had a kid, you weren’t just looking for someone for yourself anymore. For most people, introducing their partner to their parents is always a big deal. But for Joel, it was always introducing girlfriends to Sarah. Over the last decade he’d only ever introduced her to three different women, and at that point he had usually been dating them secretly for several months before deciding that it was serious enough. It always felt like he was trying so desperately to ensure they liked each other. But he could tell that Sarah was never quite comfortable with any of them. And when they’d start asking about moving in, marriage, and babies — he’d always panic. It was reasonable for them to want those things, hell, he wanted those things. But it had to be the right person. He knew he couldn’t bring someone into his life, forever, that didn’t love Sarah like a parent should. Like he did. No one ever would, and because of that, he knows there’s a good chance it’ll just be the two of them forever.

So, even if Sarah’s teacher, as cute as she was, were to ask him out, he would never be able to go. But less for the latter reasons, and more because he knows he’d never hear the end of it from her.

“Alright, that’s enough. I’m leaving in five minutes…with or without you.”

“Nooo!” Sarah screams in mock panic, scrambling upstairs to brush her teeth.

Joel exits through the garage, grabbing a few extra tools from his workbench that he needs for the job today and a saw.

When he opens the garage door, the harsh sunlight is the first thing to greet him, and then he sees you.

You’re in your driveway across the street, barefoot and in a short, black silk robe that’s cinched at the smallest part of your waist. Next to you is a man in a suit, holding a briefcase and trying to straighten his tie. He can’t do both at the same time, though, so he pauses and turns to you, murmurs something, and you slow to help him, your fingers wrapping around the tie, tightening where it’s looped around his neck and tucking it into place, straightening his lapel before stepping away. The type of domesticity that doesn’t happen with a one-night-stand.

It makes sense, he thinks. That you’re with someone like that. It’s the world you’re in all day. And even though he’s standing in his own fucking driveway, Joel feels like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to. Or maybe, he just doesn’t want to be seeing it.

Joel tears his eyes away, putting his stuff in the back of the truck – the toolkit, the saw, glancing over to see the man kiss you on the lips and mutter something unintelligible before getting in a shiny, blue sports car. You nod, offer an easy smile, and stoop to pick up the newspaper. The car's engine roars to life, and you cross your arms, looking after it until it peels out of the cul-de-sac.

The bashful smile you’re wearing drops instantly once it’s out of sight, and he watches you pinch the bridge of your nose, and tilt your head back to the sky.

He turns before he gets caught, and slams the back of the truck shut, which is a little ignorant in hindsight. Joel looks over his shoulder to see your attention has shifted, and you’re shielding your eyes and squinting at him.

Great.

“Hey Joel,” you wave, your opposite hand pulling at the bottom of your robe, in a futile attempt to cover yourself. You look good, obviously, but it makes Joel feel a little guilty to make the observation because it’s clear you didn’t actually intend to be seen like this.

“Morning,” he answers.

“Where’ve you been?” you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Busy. Work.”

“That’s no fun but…same here, I guess,” You shuffle forward hesitantly.

Joel takes a beat to think about what he’s supposed to say in response, but doesn’t get the chance, because you speak up again.

“Hey uh, not to put you on the spot, but were you actually serious about fixing my step the other night?” you ask.

Before he can answer, you continue.

“It’s okay if you weren’t, but I twisted my ankle on it the other day, so I need to get it fixed before that happens to someone else. I was thinking maybe I’d just call-”

“No-”

“It’s no big deal if you can’t-”

“No,” Joel cuts you off. He had been biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to bring it up to you, not realizing that taking said time probably made him look like an asshole. “Don’t call anyone else, I can do it. How about Friday night? Will you be around?”

“Friday?” you answer, pondering. “Yeah, that works. I have a friend from out of town coming to visit, so I’ll be home early because I’ve gotta pick her up from the airport.”

“Alright, I’ll try to cut out early, too.”

“And also I can pay-”

“Stop it, I”ve got you, don’t worry,” he waves his hand.

You smile at Joel. He’s sure it means nothing, but he gets some satisfaction from how sincere it is compared to the one you’d given the guy you had been escorting out of your home.

He feels himself grinning back, and you open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by the sound of his screen door slamming. Sarah stumbles down the steps, backpack hanging off one shoulder, headphones to her walkman around her ears, holding her bright pink windbreaker in one hand and a book in the other. She looks at Joel, then you, standing in your driveway, and her face lights up as she calls your name.

“Hey, Sarah,” you wave.

Sarah opens her mouth to speak, and Joel knows whatever she’s going to say will start a much longer conversation that unfortunately they just don’t have the time for.

“She’s gotta get to school,” Joel tilts his head in the direction of his daughter before she can say anything. “But I’ll get that done Friday.”

“See you then!” You turn on your heel, and he looks away for a second to Sarah before glancing back in your direction, and you’re already gone, the only evidence you were there being your front door slamming shut.

Joel waits until he and Sarah are in the car on their way to school before he speaks again.

“She’s never mentioned a boyfriend or anything, has she?”

Sarah doesn’t even look up from her book. “No.”

Joel nods, and it’s quiet for a moment.

He hears Sarah’s book shut. “Why?” she turns to him, and she’s got her eyes narrowed, like she’s trying to figure out what the question really meant. He’s never seen her make that face before, and it’s a little terrifying, because it looks like she could see right through him.

Joel wracks his brain for a good enough excuse. “If she has people over, I don’t want you hangin’ around adults I don’t know.”

That seems to satisfy Sarah, and the skeptical look on her face disappears. If anything, she seems slightly annoyed by the comment, which is definitely preferable. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that because it’s never happened.” Sarah plays with the dials on the radio, changing the station until it lands on one playing The Chicks, her favorite group. She hums along to the song, filling in the gaps whenever the radio cuts out, and looks out the window.

“Alright.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-March 28th, 2003-

“Oh, I wanna come!” Sarah jumps up from the couch and joins Joel in the entryway. It’s Friday evening, and he’s about to head out the door to your place.

“You’re stayin’ in tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“Well first of all, you’re grounded, in case you don’t remember.”

“You don’t even know what that means, though.”

Joel shakes his head, because she’s right. He’s never had to ground Sarah before, but when he’d gotten a call from her teacher that she had failed her last math quiz, and was close to not passing the class, he figured it was an appropriate punishment. “I’m pretty sure it means you can’t leave the house.”

“But this is barely leaving the h-”

“Second of all,” he cuts her off. “She told me earlier this week she’s got a friend visiting, so it’d be rude to intrude if that’s the case.”

Sarah groans, throws her head back, and falls onto the couch dramatically. “But I’m so bored.”

“You could study. Practice dribbling, clean your room, clean your bathroom-”

“Dad, it’s literally Friday night.”

“And?”

“All that stuff is so boring.”

Joel can’t help but chuckle. “Look, when I get back we can watch a movie. This won’t take long.”

She sits up a little, placated. “Okay, but it’s my turn to pick.”

“Deal. I’ll be home in an hour or so,” he steps out onto the porch.

There’s a special kind of glow in Texas about an hour before the sun sets. Warm light filters behind the trees, casting the leaves and anything else it catches in a golden halo. Joel takes in the view for a moment as he walks across the street, skipping the rotten step and knocking on your front door.

You answer it quickly. “Hey, you wanna come in?”

Joel supposes he doesn’t have to, and could just let you know he’s here, stay out on the front porch and just get the job done, but he accepts your invitation anyway.

There’s another woman sitting cross-legged on the couch, two half-full glasses of wine on your coffee table, music playing low on some speakers in the corner. The front windows are open, despite the chill of the evening, and your sheer curtains billow in the breeze.

“Claire, this is my neighbor, Joel,” you say. “He’s helping me out with the steps. His daughter’s Sarah, the one I was telling you about. ”

“Oh, yeah.” Claire’s face lights up in recognition. “Joel. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods.

“Claire’s visiting from New York. We grew up together,” you explain.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Her and I were roommates at boarding school,” Claire explains, finishing off a glass of wine. “We got into a lot of trouble together.”

“Hmmm, if I recall, it was more like you got me into trouble, but sure,” you say.

“You were bad, if not worse, than I was.”

Joel smirks, and you turn to him, changing the subject. “She’s jetlagged, so we’re just staying in for the night.”

“But…we’re still getting drunk, obviously.”

“Oh yeah, that too,” you say flatly, although to Joel, you don’t seem drunk at all. Luckily, your friend answers his question with her next sentence.

“This one isn’t very good at keeping up, though,” Claire tilts her head in your direction, then finishes off the glass of wine in her hand.

“You sound like Vincent,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, how is Vincent?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you cross your arms and look at Joel. “She always had the biggest crush on my brother, and it was dis-gus-ting.”

“To be fair,” Claire clears her throat. “At the time, he was pretty dreamy. And if we��re being honest….he still is…too bad he’s married.”

“Divorced, actually. But still…” You wrinkle your nose. “Gross.”

“Divorced?” Claire sits up, jaw dropping. “When? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?”

You raise your hands and shake your head, like it’s too much to get into. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later. Sorry, we’re being rude,” you turn back to Joel. “Can I get you anything? Want some wine?”

“I would, but it doesn’t usually mix well with power tools,” Joel answers. “I should be good, though, I brought everything I need.”

“Great well… I’ll let you get to it, then.” you pad across the floor to return to your friend on the couch. “We’ll be in here if you need anything.”

“Sounds good,” Joel nods at you and your friend before stepping back out onto the porch.

The screen door shuts behind him, and the birds are quieting down for the night. He only has a little bit of sunlight left, but this shouldn’t take him long. Just as he is about to get started, he hears your friend’s voice, muffled, from inside the house.

“Okay, I thought you were lying because your taste in men is usually questionable, but you’re right, he is really cute.”

“Dude,” you interject, and Joel hears a sound of impact, like a smack on the arm. “Lower your voice the fucking windows are open.” Claire starts giggling, and you continue. “You know you don’t have to say, like, every thought that comes into your head.”

He hears your friend laugh even harder, and eventually you join her. Joel shakes his head, but even after he starts working, can’t keep the grin off his face.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 5th, 2003-

It has been the longest week of your life. Work had been hectic – you’d spent the last five days going to so many meetings and dinners with potential clients that you had almost no time to do your actual job. Plus, your visit from Claire had already wiped out nearly all your energy, since you had spent the whole last weekend showing her around Austin, entertaining.

Normally, on a Saturday like today, you’d do a number of things – the first of which would be to sleep the fuck in. The ideal schedule would go something like this: You’d get out of bed in the early afternoon and immediately order some kind of takeout – most likely pho, or ramen, or some other type of soup. You’d get high, eat the takeout, and then watch TV until you’re tired enough to go back to bed in the early evening. If you’re feeling motivated at all, you might change into a fresh pair of pajamas before you crash again. It would be the ultimate lazy day, and you had desperately wanted it.

However, the past version of yourself had made plans to play tennis in the morning with some friends, and then check out a new breakfast place in the city. Sometimes you hated how optimistic she was about your ability to wake up before 10 a.m. While you weren’t excited to play tennis, you were excited that there was, at some point, going to be food involved.

So you dragged your ass out of bed, rifled through a box of clothing in your garage (one that you still had yet to unpack) to find a tennis skirt and visor, and then got in your car to go play all before 8 a.m. Then, you’d had your ass handed to you by your friends on the court. It was a little humbling to realize that you weren’t very good at tennis anymore. The last time you’d seriously played was when you were still in school, and you’d originally started because your father had wanted you to be involved in an extracurricular activity. According to him at the time, anything involving the arts – music, dance, drama – didn’t count. You had challenged this idea, and it had escalated to become one of the top ten worst fights you’d ever had with him. After that, you had learned that it was better to just do as you were told.

You’d joined the tennis team, and started to pick up on how intrigued your father was by the trophies and ribbons you’d bring home when you did well. He started to ask you questions when he saw them, pat you on the head and say things like ‘that’s my girl’. Regardless of whether or not you liked playing, you had finally found a way to earn his attention. So, you got better. One time, he even came to your school to watch one of your matches. Of course, when you lost that one, it all kind of crumbled. But you still stuck to the sport since that’s what all your friends were doing, even if it didn't get you what you wanted.

On the drive home from your morning out, belly full of breakfast and ready for a nap, thinking of your family brings about a terrifying realization.

You look at your phone. Shit.

April 5th.

Immediately, you dial a number on your cell. You’re aware of the dangers of talking while driving but you know if you don’t make this call, you’ll never hear the end of it. The line only rings twice before it’s picked up.

“Hello?”

“Vincenzo!” you say with your best – but probably horrible – attempt at an Italian accent.

“Well, well, well….if it isn’t the estranged daughter…” the familiar timbre of your brother's voice answers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You roll your eyes. “Well first of all, fuck off…” We're off to a great start. “...and second of all…Happy Birthday.”

You hear your brother’s chuckle on the other end of the line, a noise that you’d been on the wrong side of – laughing at you, not with you – more than once, but your heart aches a little at the sound of it now. I miss you, you wish you could say, but you keep it to yourself.

“Thanks, I’m surprised you remembered,” he says, lightly.

“I’ve never forgotten.”

“There was that one year-”

“Oh my god, I was like twelve.”

“You were fourteen.”

“Okay, well, sorry…It’s been over ten years and it hasn’t happened since.”

“It feels like you’ve forgotten more than once, but that might just be because it’s pretty much the only time you ever call me these days,” Vincent says, and if you were with him, in person, you’d be able to tell by the look in his eyes whether or not he was joking. But over a cell, you’re not sure at all.

“That’s not true,” you say, turning your car into your neighborhood. “But I mean, the phone does work both ways.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you catch something flippant in his tone.

“Do you want this to be a nice conversation or are you gonna be an asshole?” you ask, maybe a little too matter-of-factly, but at least you can determine whether or not it’ll be a waste of your time to try and be cordial. If he’s in a bad mood, you know it’s pointless.

“Relax,” he says, and you hear a hint of the teenage boy you once knew. “You’re always so ready to argue with me, I’m joking.”

“Very funny,” you say, and try to be nice about it, because deep down, you know Vincent is right. You don’t talk to your brother enough to argue with him when you do speak. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “So what are you doing on your big day? Anything special?”

“Nothing really special, I worked out, had lunch with a friend, and I think I’m having dinner with Elizabeth tonight.”

“Oh…really? Elizabeth?” At the mention of his soon-to-be ex-wife – or maybe current ex-wife? You’re not sure – you’re surprised.

“Yeah she and I are uh….talking still, I guess. For Ethan, mostly, but…I don’t know…the divorce isn’t finalized, and I think now that I’m seeing a therapist and shit, maybe we can work something out. We’ll see.”

“And do you want to work something out?”

“I mean, she’s only the love of my life so yeah, it’d be great.”

“I think so, too. How is Ethan, by the way?”

“Oh he’s great,” you hear your brother’s smile over the phone. “Just a big ball of energy, and so fucking smart. He told me he misses you the other day.”

Your heart lurches at the mention of your sweet, five-year-old nephew. “You’ll have to tell him I said hi, and that I love him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will,” he answers. “You know, next weekend I’m having a proper birthday party. We’re all going to the Hamptons. I could fly you out here, you could tell him in person.”

“I can’t, I got shit to do,” you answer a little too quickly, turning the car into your cul-de-sac.

“What uh, your little corporate gig keeping you busy?”

There’s a subtle dig in there, little.

“Maybe.”

“I’m telling you, all I have to do is phone a friend, and we’ll find you something here that’ll pay a thousand times better and won’t have you working weekends.”

“I don’t work weekends,” you say, pulling into your driveway. “And I’m not interested.”

“You like making yourself miserable, don’t you?”

“Vinny,” you say, exasperated, putting your car in park. “I’m happy here.”

“In Texas? I don’t believe it,” he says. “And you know, at this point, you’ve proven whatever you wanted to dad. After everything you’ve done, he probably respects you. Like, you did it. You cut yourself off, you made a name for yourself, you don’t need us anymore. Congratulations, amazing. I get it. But you should come home now.”

“Vincent,” you repeat yourself. “I’m not going back. You know what it was like for me. For you.”

“You’re my fucking family too, you know? You can’t just let him control every decision you make,” he says, and he’s not quite yelling at you, but he is sounding a lot more stern than he was before. “And by the way, it wasn’t so bad. You and I always got along.”

“Even if I move back, things will never be like they were.”

“You don’t know that.” he says it with such a deep sadness in his voice that you want to take back every cruel thing you’d ever said to him – not just from today, from forever. And then he speaks again. “You know, you used to be so sweet when we were kids….I don’t know what happened.”

I do, you think. “I had to look out for myself.”

Before he can respond, you change the subject. “Anyways, you should move out here instead,” it’s only halfway a joke.

“I’m not leaving New York.”

“Well, I’m not leaving Austin.”

“Well…” he says, clicks his tongue. “Then I guess things’ll just stay this way.”

“I guess so.”

You wish you could offer more. But he has never understood. The silence on the other line is so loud, your ears are ringing.

“Look, I just pulled in my driveway, I gotta get going.”

“Yeah.”

“But have a nice day, okay?” you’ve gotta turn this conversation around because it went so far off the rails. “Tell Elizabeth I say hi, and I hope you do work things out with her because you know I think she’s great. And give Ethan a kiss for me.”

“I know, and I will,” you can see him closing his eyes, fingers pinching between his eyebrows.

“I love you.”

“Yeah…okay,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you, and it’s a punch to the gut. As usual, you weren’t able to say the right thing. Tears start pricking the back of your eyes, guilt twisting deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Goodbye,” in one swift movement, you end the call and get out of the car, slamming the door shut. You’re sad now, but it’s only a matter of time before you become angry, which is always easier to deal with, so you just gotta suck it up until it passes.

Trying not to be upset is such a high priority that you don’t hear your name being called right away, and when you turn around, it’s too late.

“Hey!” Sarah Miller is skidding to a stop in front of you, wearing boots that look a size too small for her feet, dressed in athletic clothes with her hair pulled back. “My dad says I’m not grounded anymore so I can-” she falters when she sees your face. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Clearing your throat, you fix your expression and try to shake away the lingering disappointment like dirt off a kitchen rug. “Yeah I’m fine,” you lie. “So does that mean you passed math?”

Since that night you let her stay when she was locked out, you’d seen quite a bit of Sarah. It was a little unconventional, and you probably needed to find friends in the community that were more age appropriate, but you enjoyed her company. She would hang out and do homework at your house while she waited for her dad to get home from work. You had always valued your independence, and told yourself you preferred to be on your own, but whenever she left, your house always felt a little emptier than you remembered. Maybe you needed to get a fish or something, since Martini’s appearances were few and far between.

“Not yet, but I did get an A on my last test. I hate to say it but my dad was right…studying actually helps.”

“Yeah, that tends to be true,” you say, relieved at how easy the smile comes, and you glance over your shoulder to see Joel standing at the edge of his driveway with his hands on his hips. He looks fucking good, and you’re almost sort of mad about it, or it’s hopefully just the irritation kicking in after the conversation with your brother.

Does Joel know? He has to. It’s like having whatever the male version of a siren is living across the street from you – working with his hands, being a doting father, and mowing the lawn shirtless when it’s hot out. And apparently this was a record-breakingly hot spring, because you’d seen that more than once. Not that you minded, though it only made you want a closer look. Years ago, you probably would’ve scoffed at what sounded like a suburban mom’s wet dream, but actually experiencing it, you felt differently. There was just something about him.

You give Joel a wave, and he waves back, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he’s trying to decide if he wants to come over and talk. As usual, he seems like he’s got somewhere to be, but he’s too polite to tell you to fuck off.

“How have you been? I’ve hardly seen you,” Sarah says. “Did you play tennis today?” she pokes at the racket that’s hung over your shoulder. “Were you serious about teachin’ me to play this summer?”

It’s hard not to be amused at the barrage of requests. You admire her ability to be so enthusiastic, so open, something that most people are unable to do, but for her, is effortless. She’s older than your nephew, but you get the same kind of relief from interacting with both of them. The kids are alright. At least, some of them are.

“Of course,” you answer, and notice that Joel is slowly and hesitantly making his way up your driveway. It’s upsetting that everytime you run into him, you conveniently look like shit – like last Tuesday when you’d just rolled out of bed and were still in your robe. Or right now, after spending the whole morning chasing after balls on a clay court, scuffed knees and hair slick with sweat. But you suppose that’s sort of what neighbors are for.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you ask Joel.

“It’s goin’,” you take him in as he gets closer, notice the way the arms of his t-shirt are just a little too tight because of his biceps, and feel like you need to take a cold shower to wash yourself of this morning. “Babygirl, we should probably get going.”

He calls his daughter babygirl? There’s no way he was being serious, that it isn’t some ironic joke, or part of an act. You always assumed that was just something you saw in movies.

“Because I did so well on my test my dad is takin’ me on a hike,” Sarah says, and then her face lights up. “Wait….you should come with us! Dad, can she come?” Sarah whirls around to face her father.

Joel looks down at Sarah, and then up at you, and then at Sarah again. “I mean, that’s fine, but…she might have other things going on.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s trying to give you an out, or if he’s hinting that you shouldn’t come. And you probably normally wouldn’t want to go, but the alternative is moping around your house and thinking of all the things you could’ve said differently to your brother to ensure the conversation would have gone better than it did. You’re always desperate for a second chance to do things over, and do them right.

You look between the two of them, back and forth. “I mean I would totally, I just…don’t want to interrupt a father-daughter activity-”

“You aren’t,” Sarah says so quickly that Joel looks offended. “I couldn’t leave the house this week so we’ve been spending too much time together.”

Joel frowns. “That’s rude.”

“What?” she says. “It’s true.”

Joel sighs. “She’s right, though. You wouldn’t be interruptin’.”

“Please?” Sarah begs, and you realize you can’t say no even if you want to. You wonder how Joel was even able to ground her for a week, looking in those big, innocent eyes.

“Yeah, just…uh, could I put my stuff inside and maybe change?” you ask, gesturing towards the house.

Joel nods, and Sarah rocks back and forth on her heels. “Yes, yes! Take as long as you need.”

“I’ll be fast,” you assure her, and duck inside.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halfway into the hike with Sarah and Joel, and you’ve decided you’re out of shape. You try to tell yourself there could be another reason you are so out of breath – you already worked out once today while playing tennis. But that doesn’t seem like a good enough excuse. Of course, you’re trying to play it cool, because you’re not about to embarrass yourself. Sarah is entertaining you with all kinds of talk about school, and soccer, and sleepaway camp she gets to go to for two weeks once school's out. And you suppose the pain you’re in right now is also welcome distraction from thinking about Vincent.

However, you can’t dip away from the group to rest for a second, because Joel is already trailing behind, and he’d catch on. However, his distance – several paces back from where you and Sarah walk – is not because he’s out of shape. On the contrary, he seems to be putting almost no effort into the steep climb. He’s on his own, head on a swivel, kind of like a brooding security guard, and you wonder if he feels left out.

You steal a glance over your shoulder to take him in, shrouded by the verdant foliage. He looks at home in this environment, sun-kissed and rugged, a finger hooked behind the strap of a leather bag he carries over one shoulder, his gait measured. Aloof, but there’s a quiet confidence to him that draws you in, causes your stare to linger just a touch too long, so when he turns his head straight, his eyes catch yours. You focus back on the trail ahead.

He hasn’t said much since you’ve started hiking, or in the car, even. Most men are easy to read, but so far, Joel has kind of stumped you. There were times, during the night that you’d helped him bail his brother Tommy out of jail, that you had thought maybe he was- no. He’d been pretty tense in every other interaction you had, so you still couldn’t decide if he had been flirting with you.

And he was older than you, you were pretty sure. Not so old that it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to be interested, but enough that, depending on the type of person he was, might see you as a little too young for him. And he had a kid, responsibilities.

You were a-single woman with a high-powered career, one cat and a fish on the way. You slept in on the weekends, refused to learn to cook for one, and got violently stoned on your back porch a minimum of three times a week. In suburban Texas, most of the women your age were long since settled, and you were an outlier. It was fair to imagine that Joel probably didn’t see any real promising future when he looked your way…. or maybe he was more of a one-night stand kind of guy, and didn’t care about that at all. This was not necessarily information you needed – but you wanted it anyway.

Not feeling like an outsider would be one upside of moving back to New York – you could be exactly yourself, and still blend right in. It was one of the parts you missed most, besides Vincent. Your heart sinks, and you realize that the hill you’ve been climbing has flattened out, and so you’re able to think clearly again, which is why you’re thinking of your brother.

Sarah has pulled away, and is wandering towards a clearing. Your eyes are on her form, bounding up ahead on the pathway, the sunlight peeking through the leaves dancing on her skin, when your foot lands on a loose rock, and slips out from beneath you.

Please, God, n- You don’t even get the chance to plead yourself out of humiliation, because there’s a steady hand on your hip and your back collides with a broad chest.

“Gotcha,” Joel’s voice is right in your ear — when did he get that close?

He’s solid, strong, and for the shortest, sweetest moment, you’re overwhelmed by him – get notes of his bar soap (pine, cedar, mint) mixed with whatever laundry detergent he used, and just the faintest bit of - Fuck. In one swift movement, he brings you upright like you’d never slipped at all, then pulls back. The skin on your hip smarts even after his hand drops away.

“You alright?” Joel steps beside you, watching Sarah, who stands with her hands on her hips, her back turned to you both.

“Yeah,” you nod. He looks back over at you. “Come on,’ he tilts his head towards his daughter, and you walk beside him to where she’s standing.

The whole hike you’d been so occupied with bullshit. Trying not to think about your brother. Trying not to act too out of breath. Trying to not let Joel catch you staring, although you’d already failed at that. But now, you wish you wouldn’t have been in your head, because what you’d come to see made worrying about all that seem stupid.

Stretched out in front of you was a wide creek with moss-colored water that flowed down over layered slabs of rock, and crashed into the waterfall’s churning basin. The sun hits the mist in just the right light, and casts a series of rainbows midair, which move and shift as you turn your head to study the lush, tree-lined shore across the river.

You’re standing with one hand on your hip, and out of the corner of your eye Sarah shuffles back a few steps to stand beside you, looping her arm through yours, her cheek on your shoulder while you both enjoy the view.

“I’m glad you got to see this,” she says, and you can just make it out over the sound of the falls. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s beautiful.”

Joel’s hands land on Sarah’s shoulders as he steps close behind you both. She straightens, leans back against him until he wraps his forearm across the front of her in an easy embrace, and she grabs for his wrist with both of her hands, tucking them beneath her chin. A pang of familiar grief stirs inside you at the sight, and you turn away, back towards the view.

“This is the only time of year it’s worth seeing,'' Joel says to you. “It dries up in the summer.”

“It’s still pretty in the summer,” Sarah pipes up.

“Not as pretty.”

“Can you get me the water?” she asks. Joel grunts an affirmation and a moment later you hear the sound of a zipper.

When you’ve had a considerable amount of time to contemplate life while looking at the water swirling across the granite, you turn to find Sarah sitting on a rock, struggling to peel an orange, and dropping each tiny piece of skin she can get off into Joel’s begrudgingly outstretched hand.

You use the opportunity to stretch your calves against a nearby tree.

“Have you hiked before?” Sarah asks.

“Here and there,” you say. “But not often.”

“Why not?”

“Well this is basically a workout. I don’t like working out, I’m pretty unathletic.”

You’re surprised when that draws a smile from Joel.

“But you play tennis.”

You shrug. “Eh, kinda.”

“Me and my dad go hiking a lot.”

“That’s sweet,” your eyes flicker from hers to Joel’s, because they are both staring at you, and you’re pretty sure, though it’s hard to tell from this distance, that their eyes are the identical shade of caramel. Sarah finishes peeling her orange and Joel pockets the scraps of skin. She eats a slice before offering you both your own, and you step closer to accept it.

Sarah’s taking her last bite of orange when Joel speaks up.

“Should we head back?”

Sarah turns to take one last look. It’s mid afternoon, the slant of light from the sun as intense as it can be, and you squint when it reflects back off the water and into your eyes.

“Yeah, we can,” Sarah decides, and it’s clear that Joel would have stayed there for as long as she wanted. It wasn’t up to him.

The hike back isn’t nearly as difficult. It’s all downhill, and Joel leads. Sarah stays behind with you, and clings to your arm while she teaches you how to navigate the trail without slipping. Back at the trailhead is one steep step that drops off into a puddle of stagnant water.

Joel jumps down first, and turns to offer his hand to Sarah, who takes it and leaps lightly, landing on two feet on the other side. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting, but it’s not for Joel to offer you his hand to you as well. But he does.

“Careful,” he murmurs. And of course, you could’ve easily done this yourself, with no help. It’s a two foot drop and an inch of water. But you accept it anyways, putting some of your weight against his hand as you hop down, noticing how he doesn’t waver.

By the time you’re long since settled in the car, pulling into Joel’s driveway, you can feel sleep tugging down your eyelids. A steaming shower and a pair of pajama pants is imminent, and it’s like your body knows. Surely, you will still probably feel guilty about your brother, but you’re convinced that you won’t lose sleep over it, which you consider a win.

Sarah, who insisted that you both sit in the back together on the way home – leaving Joel in the front alone – gives you a quick hug after you’ve gotten out of the car, and then plucks the car keys from her father.

“Sorry, I drank a lot of water and I have to pee!” she says, before jogging up the walkway and unlocking her front door.

Joel lets out an exasperated sigh, but turns back look at you with startling warmth.

“Thanks for having me, I really needed that,” you tell him, and you’re not sure why you feel compelled to be honest with him, but continue on. “My brother and I got into it on the phone this morning, so if I didn’t go I probably would’ve spent all afternoon moping in bed.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” you say, quickly, brushing it off. “Siblings, you know?”

“Yeah,” he nods, but you can tell he isn’t convinced. “I know.”

“How’s Tommy, by the way?” you ask. “Staying out of trouble, I hope?”

“He is,” Joel answers. “We actually have a big project we might be about to book. Pays well, and will keep us employed for the next year.”

“Oh that’s exciting,” you nod. “So what I’m hearing is…if my step rots again, you wouldn’t have time to come fix it?”

“No,” Joel chuckles again, and you’re dizzy after hearing it. “I’d make time.”

You take a deep breath. “Good to know,” you shuffle a few steps backwards. “I better get going, though.” He doesn’t answer right away, and just as you’re turning to walk across the street, Joel calls out to you again.

“Hey,” and you pause, facing him again. “I wanted to ask you if…” he hesitates, blinks and shakes his head once before continuing. “If Sarah is coming over too much. If you want, I can tell her to cool it.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask. “I don’t mind at all. She’s great company, really.”

“You sure you’re not just sayin’ that to be nice?”

You sniff, look at the ground, then back up to him. “I’m not actually very nice.”

He studies you. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

“You hardly know me,” you shrug, and his eyebrows pinch together very briefly before his expression neutralizes. “I’m just saying….if I didn’t like having her around, you would know.”

He bobs his head slowly, and you turn back around to walk to your house, glancing at him from over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you around.”

- - - - - - - - - -

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg @yeehawbitchs @ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done @melancholicmelanin @reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer @superflymaterial @mikkorantanev @zbeez-outlet (i'm sorry if i missed anyone, i didn't tag anyone that didn't explicitly ask!).

part iii

#are we surprised that reader has daddy issues? odds are if you are reading this fic about the video game/TV DILF of the century you do too #i mean i certainly do #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x f!reader #joel Miller imagine #Joel Miller series #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #Pedro pascal #TLOU HBO #TLOU fanfic #TLOU series #texas sun

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matchingbatbites · 5 months

Text

and devour what's truly yours

Explicit | 2.4k | Read on Ao3

This is a belated birthday gift for dearest @strangersatellites! You were my first friend in this fandom and you mean a lot to me. Thank you for being crazy with me, for helping me talk through things, and being a constant source of enablement over the last year-ish. <3

CW: Mean Dom Eddie, Brat sub Steve, boot kink, spit kink, hand and finger kink, and Daddy as a title.

Steve has been having such a good day.

He'd had two tests earlier that he's sure he'll pass, work had actually been bearable because he'd had the slow shift with Robin, and the evening has been fairly peaceful so far, creating the perfect environment for Steve to get ahead on the required reading for his early education degree.

Steve’s heard Eddie moving about the apartment, worrying with his own projects for a while before making them an easy dinner that he deposits into Steve’s lap, along with a kiss to the top of his head. It’s so nice, and all told, Steve gets in a couple good hours of studying before he’s distracted by a hand sliding into his hair.

The action is surprising but not unwelcome, especially when it tightens and tugs, pulling Steve’s head back. He barely gets a glimpse at his boyfriend’s face before Eddie’s mouth is on his, lips meeting in a searing kiss.

Steve melts under it as he kisses back; he always loves when Eddie gets into a mood like this, loves how demanding and rough he is.

Teeth sink into his lower lip and Steve groans, opens his mouth so Eddie's tongue can push inside. It's possessive. It leaves him aching with how thoroughly Eddie claims his mouth, how he explores every nook and cranny like he doesn’t already know each one by heart.

Like he doesn't know that Steve is slowly shaking apart at the soft, wet sounds of their kiss, at the metal piercing that rubs against Steve's tongue before clicking against the back of his teeth.

Eddie breaks the kiss, pulling back with a firm “Open,” and Steve doesn’t hesitate, just drops his jaw and sticks his tongue out. He knows what’s coming next and his dick twitches in his pants in anticipation, waiting patiently as Eddie gathers the spit in his mouth before releasing it, letting it drop into Steve’s eager mouth.

Steve shudders and swallows, and is rewarded with Eddie's hand dropping to palm at his dick, groping it through the fabric of his sweatpants. The expert touch sends him flying past interested and right to hard and needy, and he keens at just how fucking good it feels. Eddie just grins and leans in to nip at Steve’s lip.

“Does that feel good, Stevie?”

Steve nods. “So good, daddy. Love your hands.”

“Yeah, baby? You like when daddy plays with you?”

Another nod, followed by a whiny “Yeah.”

Eddie mutters a soft “Yeah, that's my good boy,” against Steve’s mouth before he pulls away completely, releasing his grip on Steve's hair and his dick and just. Walking away. Steve blinks at the sudden shift, the abrupt loss of heat and touch, and it takes him a moment to register that Eddie is leaving.

“Where are you going?”

“I've got some stuff to work on, I'll just be in the office,” Eddie replies without even looking at him, and Steve can’t help the affronted sound that escapes him.

“Are you just gonna leave me like this?!”

At that, his boyfriend pauses and glances back at him with a sly grin. “Yep.”

Steve is appalled by the smug indifference; he thought Eddie was going to fuck him, not work him up and leave him stranded. “But-”

“I'll be in the office,” Eddie repeats, and raps his knuckles on the door frame as he passes through it. “Don't touch yourself!’

Steve isn’t ashamed to admit that he pouts. He settles back into the couch and looks down at his abandoned dick, still straining against the confines of his sweatpants, and he pouts. He looks at his text book still sitting nearby and thinks about pulling it closer, about just ignoring his situation and going back to reading.

If only he could stop thinking about the feeling of Eddie’s tongue in his mouth, Eddie’s hand on his dick, and- Well, that's a thought. It's not touching himself if something else touches him, right?

Steve rises from the couch and makes his way down the hall, following the sounds of typing to their office. He pauses in the doorway to watch as Eddie sits at his desk, fingers moving over the keys expertly as he types out something, before going over. He stops next to Eddie's chair and waits a moment to see if he's going to get any kind of acknowledgement from his boyfriend, and when Eddie doesn't even spare him a single glance, he rapidly comes to terms with the fact that he isn't.

Time for Plan B.

Steve huffs as he bullies himself between Eddie and the desk, not even caring that he’s interrupting Eddie’s typing. The man just watches as Steve settles himself right on his lap, legs straddling Eddie's thighs and arms wrapping around his neck. He rolls his hips forward to grind against the soft plane of his boyfriend’s stomach, and sighs at the instant relief it gives his aching dick.

“And just what do you think you're doing, baby?” Eddie asks, voice light like Steve is amusing him.

“Said I couldn't touch myself. Didn't say I couldn't come.”

He's acting like a cheeky little shit and they both know it. Steve knows better than to twist Eddie's words around like this. Last time he did Eddie didn't fuck him for a week, just edged him over and over until he was sobbing out apologies and begging be filled. You think that Steve would have learned his lesson after that, but his common sense always seems to take a back seat when he gets worked up like this.

Eddie hums and tangles his fingers into Steve's hair, the touch gentle until it's not, until he's wrenching Steve's head back and back. Until Steve is falling off Eddie's lap and landing on the floor, the carpet barely protecting his ass from the impact.

“Well, I have work to finish, and I can't do it with a whiny brat in my way. If you wanna come so bad, you'll have to find something else to rub your dick on.”

Steve’s breath hitches slightly and he thinks he might just cry at the easy dismissal. He knows it’s just part of the game, part of the roles they’ve agreed to play, but being ignored is still something Steve struggles to handle in any setting. Eddie reads him like a fucking book, as the hand in his hair loosens slightly and Eddie moves Steve so he can look him in the eye.

“What's your color, baby?” he asks, voice gentle and reassuring, and Steve knows that he has no reason to not trust that Eddie will take care of him. Steve mutters a soft but sure “Green, daddy,” and Eddie nods before releasing him.

Something moves and Steve glances down, under the desk and- fuck. Eddie's wearing his favorite boots, the shiny ones that Steve bought him, that he saves for special occasions and play time, and Steve realizes all at once that-

Eddie planned this.

He wanted Steve worked up into a frenzy until he was eager to rub his dick on the boots instead of being ordered to. He strung Steve along in this mean little game instead of just telling him what he wanted, and the thought of Eddie planning through this whole scenario like it's one of his D&D sessions makes Steve feel like he’s fucking kindling, every nerve alight under his skin.

Steve glances up to meet Eddie's eyes, and the older man just stares him down, waiting for him to make a decision. His shame evaporates under the heat of Eddie's gaze as he moves forward, crawling across the carpet until he's under the desk. He has to hunch over a bit so his head doesn't bump the underside of it, but it’s not unbearable, and he feels weak as he straddles one of the perfectly polished boots.

Steve’s hands settle around Eddie's calf, needing something to hold on to, to ground himself with, and he rocks his hips down just as the sound of typing continues above him. The first touch is electric, and even as eager as he feels, Steve does his best to keep his motions slow and measured; he might be humping Eddie's foot like an untrained puppy, but he refuses to lose control like one.

That doesn't stop him from whining when he grinds just right, the friction on the head of his dick so sweet, and he repeats it over and over, chasing the sensation. A sharp tap - not quite a slap - lands on his cheek, and Steve gasps at the tingle it sends through his face.

“Get your dick out of your pants, baby,” Eddie says, blindly taking hold of Steve's face. “You don't want to get them messy, do you?”

Steve shakes his head and reaches down to shove his pants and briefs out of the way, earning him a pleased hum and another firm tap on his cheek before the hand retracts. The rough laces against the sensitive skin of his dick makes him quake, the sudden change almost overwhelming but not enough to make him stop. It feels better once he shifts to the side a bit, adding the feeling of eyelets and leather into each stroke.

It's easy to lose himself in the sensation, in the constant, steady friction. It’s addicting, and his hips stutter as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He claws at the fabric of Eddie’s pant leg as he starts to lose control, and then-

He's pulled from the reverie as Eddie's chair moves back, pulling his foot away, and Steve scrambles to follow. He was so close. Eddie laughs a bit and Steve flushes at the condescending sound, at the “Poor baby,” that follows it.

Steve keens and barely gets out a choked “Daddy,” before two fingers are pushing into his mouth, effectively silencing him. Eddie grins as he tugs Steve’s jaw down, opening his mouth wide as he says “Come on, princess, keep going.”

Ever Eddie’s good boy, Steve rolls his hips again and his eyes slide shut as the fingers push deeper, rubbing over his tongue and along the backs of his teeth. It feels like possession, like Eddie wants nothing more than to claim the smallest, most hidden parts of Steve’s very being.

Steve wonders what it says about him that he would let Eddie do it, no questions, and certainly no complaints.

The fingers disappear just long enough for Eddie to spit on his tongue again, and then they’re back, mixing it with the saliva slowly collecting in the well of Steve’s jaw.

“That’s it, baby. So fucking greedy for anything you can get, huh?” Steve just moans into the open air and Eddie just shoves his fingers deeper, until Steve is nearly choking on them. “Yeah. So good, so desperate to come.”

He is. He’s so close to coming, he’s right on the verge. All he needs is-

“Look at me, Stevie.”

Steve opens his eyes, he can feel the drool now dripping off his chin as he meets Eddie’s gaze. The man just looks at him for a moment, eyes burning as he lifts his foot, pressing up into Steve's dick, and that's all it takes.

His hips stutter and jerk as he comes, spilling over laces and leather and marking the shiny black with creamy white. Eddie’s fingers slip from his mouth and Steve keens as he rides out his high. He’s shaking as he comes down, hands trembling where they clutch at Eddie’s jeans, and the sound of fuzz slowly starts to leave his head.

The sound of metal-on-metal pulls his attention, and he looks up to see Eddie undoing his belt and jeans before pushing them down just enough to free his dick. Eddie slides a hand into Steve’s hair and tugs him closer with a soft “C’mere princess, let me come on that pretty face.”

Steve lets Eddie move him as he wants, just drops his jaw and sticks out his tongue as the man starts to jerk himself off. He’s clearly worked up, because he skips his usual slow tease and goes right to something fast and rough.

The pre-cum already leaking from the tip has Steve’s mouth watering with the desire to taste - literally. He can feel it dripping off his chin once again as he keeps his mouth open, and Eddie coos when he sees it.

“So fuckin’ messy, Stevie, drooling over daddy’s dick. You’re just the greediest little baby, huh?”

Eddie releases his cock and reaches out to wipe his hand over Steve’s chin, collecting some of the fluid before he starts stroking again, the way a bit easier with the makeshift lube. Steve sways a bit, still so floaty as he’s forced to just sit and watch, and for a second he’s certain the only reason he’s still upright is the grip Eddie has on his hair.

Eddie’s orgasm seems to hit him out of nowhere. A groan punches out of him and then he’s gone, dick twitching as he comes over Steve’s mouth, his nose, his cheek. Some of it lands on Steve’s tongue and he doesn’t hesitate to swallow it, he hums at the taste and licks his lips, chasing more of it.

Eddie groans a soft “Jesus, Stevie,” before he’s leaning in, giving Steve a hard kiss that quickly turns soft and tender. He runs his clean hand through Steve’s hair and mutters “That was so good, baby, so perfect. I’m so, so lucky to have you, honey. You’re so good for me.”

Steve goes gooey under the praise and he leans into Eddie as they just sit there, catching their breaths and slowly coming back down. He would be happy to stay here longer, just kneeling at Eddie’s feet, but the cum drying on his face coaxes him into action. He whines softly, words still hard as he slowly settles back into his body, and Eddie knows exactly what he’s asking for.

The man presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and says “Okay, baby, get’s get you clean,” before standing and helping Steve up onto shaky legs. Their aftercare is extremely consistent, the familiar motions necessary to keep Steve from crashing quickly.

It’s not until they’re out of the shower that Steve finds his words again, and he mutters a soft “We need to get satin laces for those boots or something, my dick is sore.”

Eddie just laughs and presses a quick kiss to Steve’s mouth. “I’ll get right on that, sweetheart.”

#once again giving my friends the gift of filth #also sorry for making you give me input on your own gift lol #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #joey writes

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

Text

Light the Way - Part One

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Angst, date rape/roofies, slight BDSM Word count: ~4k Series masterlist

Chapter summary: Starting a new job is never easy, it's even worse when your boss is an arsehole. When he unexpectedly comes to the rescue though, the relationship dynamic changes drastically.

She graduated from university a year ago with a Bachelor’s degree in PR and Marketing, and still has no idea what she wants from life, although the last twelve months of working as a barista have proven to her that a career in hospitality and customer service is definitely not it. Having happened across an online advertisement of a vacancy for the position of a personal assistant at a private law firm, she applied on a whim, never expecting to hear back. It’s not like she was qualified anyway, so she had nothing to lose

Yet, here she is, almost four weeks later, standing in the foyer of Red Keep Legal, preparing to begin her first day. The office building is sleek and modern, minimalist in decor, yet the polish of everything suggests it is incomprehensibly expensive. A handsome, bearded, older man, dressed in a sharp suit collects her from reception. She learns his name is Otto Hightower and he is a partner at the firm. They are high end solicitors and only take on the most exclusive of clients. She turns his business card over in her hands, the thickness of the smooth, matte black cardstock is high quality, with ornate golden lettering and a blood red logo of a three headed dragon. She knows she has seen that logo before, but can’t place where exactly.

“You’ll be a personal assistant to my grandson, Aemond.” Otto tells her. “He’s working on a particularly tricky case at the moment, so you’ll be responsible for ensuring he has everything he needs. I imagine he won’t ask you to do much more than get him coffee.”

So there it was, the reason she’d gotten the job. She was hoping her coffee making days were behind her, but no such luck. She sighs inwardly, the bitter irony is almost comical.

“Anyway, if you have no further questions, I shall introduce you to Aemond.” Otto concludes.

She smiles and nods politely as he turns on his heel and leads her towards the elevator, stopping on the second to last floor. She follows him along a marble floored corridor, before he gently raps his knuckles against the rich mahogany of an office door. After a few moments the door swings open to reveal the most ethereal being she’d ever laid eyes upon. He is impossibly tall without being gangly or awkward; his long, lithe limbs flow like water as he props himself against the doorframe. His silky, silver locks are perfectly coiffed and she feels self conscious as the bright blue of his right eye scans all the way from her feet to the top of her head, analysing every inch. She notices the skin around his left eye is lightly scarred - the only indication that the realistic prosthetic that sits within the socket isn’t something he can actually see out of. The simple long sleeved top and black trousers she’s wearing suddenly feel drab in comparison to the well tailored navy blue suit he wears, and she fights the urge to hide herself.

“Aemond, this is your new personal assistant.” Otto informs him, gesturing towards her. “Your mother and I worked hard to find this one, so perhaps you could try being a little more cordial than last time.”

She doesn’t stop to think about what that could possibly mean, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding in and rushing forward, smiling wide and extending a hand.

“Hi Aemond! It’s wonderful to meet you!”

His plush, full lips remain unmoving, as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, not returning the gesture and continuing to study her.

She drops her hand, feeling deflated and laughs nervously.

Clearly not picking up on the awkwardness, or simply not caring, Otto glances between the two of them, before giving a curt nod and striding back towards the elevator.

Aemond watches him go before returning his attention back to her.

“Wonderful to meet me, hm?” he finally says, quirking an eyebrow.

Before she can respond, he continues, “Look, I’ve told my grandfather I don’t need an assistant and I like my own space. I’m looking over some contracts at the moment, so I would prefer it if you could make yourself scarce.” He disappears from view, allowing his office door to close behind him.

She immediately feels miserable. Her shoulders slump as she stands in front of the closed door. The first day of a new job should feel exciting, especially when your boss is so breathtakingly handsome, but this guy is rude and has declared her useless within minutes of meeting her. For a moment she considers just walking out and not returning.

She spends the remainder of the day sitting at her desk that’s positioned to the outer left of Aemond’s door. No one goes in or out, and not once does she catch sight of him. As far as first days go this is undoubtedly the worst she has ever experienced. As tempting as it is to just bail and head home, she desperately needs the cash, so she watches the hours slowly tick by on the off chance her stand-offish boss may suddenly decide he needs something. By the time 6pm rolls around, and she stands to gather her things, her legs have cramped from sitting for so long and she curses herself for only stretching her legs on the few occasions she went to the bathroom.

Arriving home, she finds her flatmate isn’t back yet and breathes a sigh of relief, knowing she’d be bombarded with questions about her first day and not have a positive answer for any of them. She uses the opportunity to pace the flat, rifling through the contact sheet and paperwork she has been given. She sighs when she happens upon the number listed for Aemond - what was the point of having the number of someone who seemingly wanted nothing to do with her? She saves it to her phone anyway, tomorrow was a new day after all. Perhaps she’ll score a few brownie points if she texts and offers to grab him coffee on her way to the office. She still can’t figure out why he’d been so cold towards her. Flopping down on the couch with a glass of wine, she boots up her laptop, deciding to do some research on Aemond Targaryen, as she realises that beyond meeting him today and knowing he works for one of the most prestigious law firms in all of Westeros, she really knows nothing about the man she is supposed to be working for.

She wakes up early the next morning, armed with a plan. Her evening of wine-fuelled research had been fruitful. She’d discovered that Aemond was from a family of famous Valyrian legal, political and business figures. Her recognition of the logo on Otto’s card was because it was regularly splashed across all of the major tabloid and broadsheet newspapers. She’d read through a few old articles regarding family drama, disputes over assets, and the death of his father to get an idea of who he was, before deciding his cold demeanour is likely attributed to the combined stress of his job and seemingly endless rifts between his mother and half-sister. She decides that if she is to break down his walls then she will do so with kindness, but she also wants to look the part - if she is to fit in with such sophisticated people then she needs to start dressing like one. She slips into a pencil skirt so fitted it looks like it has been painted on, alongside a sheer white blouse and a killer pair of black stilettos. She completes the look with perfectly styled hair and a thick coat of blood red lipstick. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t vying for more than Aemond’s professional attention, but she’d try anything at this point just to get him to acknowledge her presence. Giving herself a last once over look in the mirror, she fires off what she considers to be a breezy good morning text to Aemond, before heading to the coffee shop she used to work at. “Good morning Mr. Targaryen! Hope you’re well today. I’ll grab you a coffee on my way to the office. See you soon!”

Arriving exactly thirty minutes later, coffees in hand, she is disappointed to see that she’s been left on read. Nevermind. She has gone all out with the coffee order, asking for the special roast of beans with an extra shot and foamed milk. This was sure to win him over. She knocks timidly at his office door and after a long moment is about to knock again when it swings slowly open with a perfectly poised Aemond on the other side. God, he was breathtaking.

She realises she has gone too long without saying anything when he snaps out an impatient “Yes?” She jumps slightly, stepping forward into his office without an invitation. Aemond cautiously backs away, his brow furrowing with suspicion and confusion.

She thrusts one of the cups towards him, “Umm…I text you. Did you - uh - coffee?” Great, now I’ve lost the fucking power of speech.

Aemond gingerly accepts the cup from her, without saying thank you. “Are you always this articulate?” He says flatly, before taking a sip. His nose instantly wrinkles, “Ugh, does this have milk in it? I’m allergic to dairy."

Her eyes widen in horror, "Oh gods,, I’m so sorry! I should have thought to ask, I can always get you-"

"Forget it.” He cuts her off, “That will be all for the day, before you try to poison me any further. Close the door on your way out.”

Fantastic, another day sat at my desk, except this time I’m dressed like a cheap escort.

The confidence she’d felt when she stepped out of the door this morning had been crushed flat by Aemond in a matter of seconds. She sits with her hands clasped tightly in front of her on the desk, willing her unshed tears away. Did he want her to quit? She’d placed everything on this job and she didn’t want to give it up without a fight. Sje simply couldn’t understand why Aemond seemed to hate her so much.

After a few hours pass by, she notices it is lunch time - he has to take a break some time. She decides that now is when she’ll make her move. Standing purposefully, she sniffs back her tears and checks her make-up in her compact mirror, before strutting back towards Aemond’s door. She’ll give that arsehole a piece of her mind. It was about time he learned to respect her.

She bursts into Aemond’s office without knocking. “Just who in the hell do you think you are?!” she rants, not waiting for his reaction to her sudden intrusion.

He looks up from the documents he has been reading and stares at her, but his expression is unreadable.

He stays silent, so she continues her tirade. “I didn’t have a fucking clue who you were when I accepted this job, despite that I’ve treated you with nothing but respect and you can’t even extend me the same courtesy!” She paces as she yells at him, gesticulating wildly. There’s a part of her telling her to stop, that this behaviour will likely get her fired, but at this point it would have been like attempting to put toothpaste back in the tube. “I know you think you’re hot shit, but that doesn’t exempt you from behaving like a decent human being.” She stops and looks at him then, his face still a mask of neutrality as he gazes up at her from his seat at the desk. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!” She demands.

“Oh, are you done?” He replies sarcastically.

She throws her hands up in exasperation, eliciting a huge sigh at his complete lack of emotion.

Accepting her reaction as affirmation, he diverts his attention back to his paperwork and mutters “Well, if that’s all, you know where the door is.”

It takes all of her willpower not to grab the nearest object and launch it towards his head. She storms outside, slamming the door as she goes. Fuck this. Walking purposefully straight to the elevator, she lets it take her to the ground floor before hastily exiting the office building. There was absolutely no way she was spending another second in this godforsaken building.

Arriving home she throws her keys a little too aggressively onto the kitchen counter and heads straight towards the fridge, grabbing for the can of whipped cream. As she loudly squirts an unhealthy sized swirl of it into her mouth, her flatmate, Rhea, looks up from her laptop with an amused smile and asks “Rough morning?”

She hadn’t noticed her sitting at the dining table, too engrossed in her own foul mood to have any awareness of her surroundings. “Think I lost my job.” She slurs without bothering to swallow.

Rhea closes the lid of her laptop and rushes to pull her into a bear hug. Finally releasing her, she smiles kindly and wipes cream from her chin, before saying “First of all, you’re gross, and second, how has that happened? You’ve been there less than 48 hours!”

“It’s a long story.” She sighs, “The short version is that my boss is an arsehole, so I yelled at him and then left the office.”

“Oh.” Rhea winces, “That’s bad.”

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” She whines, rubbing her temples.

“Well, it might not solve your impending unemployment, but we could go out tonight?”

“Are you high right now, Rhea?! The only thing I’ll be doing tonight is looking at the classifieds!”

“Come on, you were miserable for so long in your last job and don’t seem to be faring much better in this one. You deserve a little fun!”

“I dunno…”

“I’m not taking no for an answer! I’m working from home today, so having a reason to leave the flat later will keep me sane. Plus you don’t even need to get changed - you are wearing that outfit!”

“Fine. I guess one drink couldn’t hurt.”

Rhea squeals with excitement, clapping her hands. “Amazing! Now be a doll and fuck off until 7pm, I have to concentrate.”

Rhea returns to her laptop while she retreats to her room, wondering if there will ever be a point this week where she isn’t being told to go away by someone.

The bar they end up at later that evening is loud and overcrowded. Despite that, she can feel herself relaxing. Perhaps it was the second white wine she was sipping or the steady beat of the music causing her to sway your hips involuntarily, but for the first time in two days she wasn't thinking about Aemond. She sighs contentedly, draining her glass and flashing Rhea a toothy grin as she pushes through the crowd with their next round of drinks.

“Having fun?” Rhea half shouts over the cacophony of noise.

Nodding, she grabs her hand, dragging her towards the dance floor. She chugs her drink as they both move to the rhythm of the song playing. She feels woozy and attributes it to drinking too much wine too fast.

“You want water?” She shouts to Rhea, making a drinking motion with her hand. Rhea nods gratefully and she staggers her way to the bar. She can feel her vision shifting in and out of focus and getting her legs to work the way she wants them to is proving difficult. Changing course, she heads outside, deciding a few lungfuls of fresh air will help set her straight.

As she slides down the brick exterior of the building she barely notices the dark figure that has followed her outside. “Easy.” A gruff male voice says, though in her mind it sounds far away, “Just relax.” Rough hands paw at her as her head flops around on a neck that feels boneless.

“Get the fuck off her.” She hears a familiar voice snarl demandingly. The man is gone in a flash and replaced instead by someone crouching in front of her, cupping her cheeks and coaxing her to look up into a concerned blue eye.

“Aemond?” She slurs.

“Keep looking at me.” Aemond says, cradling her head, “I’m fairly certain that that prick spiked your drink. I’m going to make sure you get home safely, but you need to stay awake, okay?”

Her eyes are glassy and Aemond blurs and duplicates in her vision as he keeps her face tilted up towards him. “Rhea.” She mumbles groggily.

As if summoned by the utterance of her name, her room mate pushes her way out of the bar, phone in hand, looking left and right. When she finally catches sight of her slumped on the ground with a man crouching over her, she shrieks and runs towards her. “What are you doing to her?!”

“Helping her.” Aemond replies flatly, without looking away from her. “Pretty sure she’s been spiked.”

“Jesus!” Rhea squeals, kneeling at her side, before finally looking over at Aemond. “Holy shit! You’re Aemond Targaryen! Your uncle is so hot!”

Aemond rolls his eye, hooking his arms around the body of the semi-conscious woman in front of him and slowly lifting her to her feet.

“Should we call the police?” Rhea asks, slowly realising the gravity of the situation.

Aemond turns to stare at her. “It will take an hour for them to get here.” He explains. “And when they do they’ll just file a report which they’ll never follow up on. Our time is better spent getting her home, so she’s at least safe. I’m assuming you know where she lives?”

Rhea nods. “We’re flatmates.”

Aemond momentarily supports her weight with a single arm as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it and passes it to Rhea. “Order an Uber”.

“Thanks for helping her.” Rhea says, as the Uber finally pulls up to the curb. They waited in total silence and any excitement Rhea had felt at having met Aemond was rapidly dissipating into awkward discomfort. “I can look after her from here.” She moves to take her from the supporting hold he has on her.

“Because you’ve done such an incredible job of that so far.” He retorts icily. “I’m coming with you.”

He maneuveres her limp form into the back of the car as Rhea makes her way around to the other side to sit next to her. She is surprised to see Aemond fold his tall frame into the backseat beside her, fully expecting him to ride shotgun. The drive back is tense and uncomfortable. She sits unconscious, sandwiched between the two of them, her heading lolling against Aemond’s shoulder.

“So…” Rhea begins, attempting to break the silence, “You’re the arsehole boss then?”

It was intended as a joke, but Aemond’s humourless chuckle instantly makes her cheeks burn at having said something so rude. “Is it true you’re going to fire her?”

Aemond seems surprised at that. “No,” He says simply. “I won’t expect to see her in the office tomorrow, she’ll need a day to recover, but tell her to be there at 9am sharp on Thursday. And I take my coffee black.”

“Sure.” Rhea smiles meekly. By this point, the Uber has pulled up to its destination. “Would you like to uh…?” She asks, gesturing towards the block of flats.

“No, I think you’ll be fine from here.” He responds, “Goodnight.”

With that, Rhea is left to help her out of the car, which pulls away as soon as she's closed the door.

The next day she awakens with no memory of the evening before, feeling like she has the mother of all hangovers. She swears loudly as she looks at the time and realises it’s almost midday. If she wasn’t fired before, she certainly was now.

Hearing she is awake, Rhea sweeps into the room with a tall glass of water for her. She fills her in on the details of the previous evening and she listens in stunned silence. She spends the rest of the day in bed, struggling to process what has happened to her and the fact that a man she’d assumed hated her had come so valiantly to her rescue.

Thursday morning rolls around quickly and she dresses simply in black trousers and a sensible cardigan. She heads to grab Aemond his morning coffee; black coffee. No sooner had she deposited the cup into his hand had apologies begun tumbling from her lips, saying sorry for how she’d spoken to him, sorry for storming off, sorry for him having to look after her. He cuts her off, sliding a sheet of paper towards her.

“This,” He begins, “Is a list of things I need you to do for me today. Think you can handle it?”

She nods, stunned at finally being asked to help him out.

“Perfect. See you later.”

The day passes in a blur and she struggles. This is the first day she’s actually performing the job she has been hired to do and the busy, demanding nature of a prestigious law firm was worlds apart from the past two days of sitting at her desk and sulking. She gets lost trying to deliver documents to various people’s offices, forgets to seal contracts in confidential envelopes and accidentally hangs up on no less than five clients while trying to transfer their calls. It is a complete disaster.

She sits, highlighting every instance of the word “Harrenhal” in a document, feeling totally overwhelmed. How could anyone manage to be so bad at a relatively simple job?! The truth was, she kept finding herself distracted, thinking about what had happened to her two nights ago. What would have happened if Aemond hadn’t shown up? She caps the highlighter pen, resting her head in her hands and fails to suppress a sob.

Hearing his office door open, she turns to face Aemond as he exits, attempting to compose herself, but knows he has likely already seen her crying. “Sorry.” She whispers. “I’m just having a bad day. Ignore me.” She sniffles and wipes her eyes.

Silently Aemond beckons her into his office, maintaining eye contact as he does so.

She follows obediently, dread gnawing at her insides, certain he’s going to fire her.

“Kneel.” He quietly commands, once the door is closed behind them.

“What?!” Her eyes widen in shock.

“Trust me, you need this. Kneel.” He insists.

She does as she is told, kneeling before him, gazing up at his impossibly tall frame with curiosity.

He slowly reaches out a hand, fingers gently grazing her jawline, before running a thumb over her lips. He pushes gently, parting them and meeting the resistance of her teeth. “Open”.

This time she doesn’t question his request, silently accepting the alien intrusion of Aemond’s thumb into her mouth. Instinctively she feels herself sucking on the digit and gradually relaxes. The sensation sends a throb of arousal straight to her core. She’d never experienced anything like this before, but seeing him tower over her, offering his thumb for her to suck was strangely erotic.

“Better?” He asks.

She simply nods, doe-eyed and staring at him in awe.

“Good.” He smiles slightly, stooping down until his lips are ghosting the shell of her ear. It makes her shiver. “I much preferred Tuesday’s outfit, by the way. Maybe that can make a reappearance tomorrow?”

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

Hey!!! Can i plss request lookism men with a short and petite fem reader...like 5'1 And she is quite thin. If you're uncomfortable then plss feel free to ignore it 😅. Thank you ❤️🙏

Hey anon! Thanks for the ask and sorry for the delay! A few headcanons for you below. I've mostly focused on the guys that I think would react/care about it :) What a coincidence it is mostly consisting of my faves!!

Lookism Boys with Petite S/O

Johan, Vin, Jake, Samuel, Goo

Johan Seong

If Johan could roll you up and tuck you into his pocket, he would. He seems to have a habit of collecting small creatures: Eden, Miro, You (no offence), so what's one more in the pack to protect. Main goal to keep you feeling safe and secure at all times, which is easy to achieve being with Johan.

From a practical standpoint, actually enjoys your small stature cos that's fewer calories to maintain right? A little less to worry about with food.

Vin Jin

Look. You know what Vin is like. He makes fun of your height every chance he gets. Dangles your stuff just out of reach, making you jump and swipe like an idiot child as he laughs. Truly, the height of comedy. Not.

And yeah, all the mentions of literal 'shorty' in his rap makes you cringe like hell.

Jake Kim

Equal parts teasing and protective. "Oh poor Y/N, can''t reach up that shelf." "Babe, are you strong enough to open that can of soda?". But those jokes are reserved for Jake only. Any words from anyone else would be rewarded with a sharp look and a frown.

Expect him resting his elbows on your head, ruffling your hair and sweet forehead kisses.

Samuel Seo

Similar to Jake (though don't tell him that unless you want to die), your height and size does flare up his protective instinct. And being the silly insecure bastard he is, the height difference means he's also able to somewhat lord over you, which he loves.

The only annoyance is when he's in one of his moods, he tends to treat you like an errant child. Hand on your head, holding you back as he scrolls on his phone or whatever.

Goo Kim

You think he wouldn't just pick you up and carry you in his arms, without warning? Fireman-carry over his shoulders like a sack of unruly potatoes? One of the perks of a petite S/O is how easy you are to shift and he will take absolute full advantage.

The nicknames would also be endless. Shortcake, gremlin, ankle biter. All said with affection, of course.

Side note for these guys + Gun Park: Likely to have discovered a size difference kink with you.

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #johan seong #johan seong x reader #vin jin #vin jin x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #goo kim #goo kim x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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deliciousdefendorinternet · 2 months

Text

in Defence of Creek ( warning if your an Avid Creek Hater you may not want to read this 😂😂 )

youtube

ps. Branch will Hair strangle some guy he Barely knew who he didn't even care about for betraying them but doesn't do the same to his Jerkass Brothers who let him down his whole life 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️.

anyway onto the topic at hand 😂😂😂😂

Creek gets an unfair Rap in my opinion sure he technically betrayed the village but when you examine the story of the first film he literally had no other choice.

as there's no other scenario that didn't end with him being Horribly Eaten as soon as he was picked by Chef for Gristle Jr to eat and taken out of the cage his fate was sealed.

unlike the rest of the snack pack he didn't have the option of sitting around waiting on the off chance Poppy would Rescue them.

we see in the Betrayal scene he was literally in Gristle's mouth before he finally played the only card he could and said he'd do what ever they wanted him to do.

and from then on he was kept in Gristle's locket around his neck which I have to say was Horrible poor guy was stuffed in their with no space or light or even air given how tight it was.

and he was kept there until eventually being moved out of the locket and put into Chef's waist bag just before the snack pack got the Locket from Gristle and were then captured by Chef.

and from that point like Creek himself said there was literally nothing else he could do that wouldn't result in him being killed straight away by Chef.

this is what rubs me the wrong way about the movie trying to make him into a villain he has no real agency in the betrayal it'd be a little easier for me to Judge him.

if he was kept in the cage with the Rest of the Snack Pack so he had the option of just having faith in Poppy someone he claimed to care about.

coming to save them but instead he took the more cowardly action and offered to sell everyone out early on in order to save himself then I feel it'd work a little better.

but having him be plucked from the cage early on and literally only betray everyone when he was on the verge of being eaten just makes him a victim in my eyes.

like I'm sorry but he can't be blamed too much for anything he does at that point he's just a normal civilian who's life was put in danger by negligent leaders ( cough Peppy cough ).

he technically wasn't obligated to die then and there and the whole situation with him selling out the Village is a classic Trolley Problem sure its easy to Judge.

from the outside but when we're on the verge of being gruesomely murdered who's to say what each of us would do in the moment to stay alive.

basically its Chef's actions and she's the one to blame not Creek dude was a literal Hostage who had been kidnaped Humiliated by being shoved in a taco and sprinkled with spicy stuff.

and then nearly eaten and then crammed into a tiny locket for presumably Hours and then crammed into a waist bag like how is this guy not the victim here?

and some people do like to point to how he behaved about the whole thing telling Poppy he's doing it for her but I'm sorry that doesn't change anything in my eyes.

sure its an unusual reaction but its also an unusual situation and I see it more as him weakly attempting to justify it to himself since he does admit he wishes there was another way but is promptly reminded by Chef that there isn't.

his Reaction isn't Great but it doesn't change the situation and make him some pure evil person.

a little autistic maybe? given the weird response to an emotional situation he has but yeah it doesn't make him worse in my eyes.

basically to end things the film as well as the fandom that villainise him seem to basically be saying that he should have just laid down and accepted his gruesome fate the first time.

and the movie even ends on a cruel irony of still being eaten along with Chef.

which for Chef is ironic in a karmic way but for Creek its just kinda sad tbh so the film's saying his death was decided at the start and he's a villain for not accepting it the first time.

and as punishment he meets the same fate in the end anyway.

I thought this was a Trolls film not a Final Destination film lol.

anyway even tho its separate cannon I was Happy when he was Revealed to still be alive in TBGO sure I feel his Return could have been written way better.

but Regardless I'm Glad he's still alive he didn't deserve to die and also the movie cannon never contradicts the tv show cannon in Terms of Creek's survival.

so yeah he could very well still be alive in the movies as well sorry Haters 😅😅😅😅.

#Youtube #trolls #trolls creek #dreamworks trolls #trolls the beat goes on #trolls tbgo #trolls dreamworks #Trolls #Trolls Creek #Trolls The Beat Goes On #Trolls TBGO #trolls creek defence #sorry not sorry haters 😂😂😂😂

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lovesodakid · 3 months

Text

sworn to secrecy 5

chris x fem!reader

1 2 3 4 6

summary: chris and y/n have known each other, pretty much their whole lives. y/n has always had a crush on chris. chris always viewed y/n as ‘nate’s little sister’ until one day, he realized, she wasn’t so little anymore…which nate sees..in which. he does not approve of whatsoever. (“brothers best friend trope”)

warnings: underage drinking. that should be it

____________________________________________

as we walk into the party, it’s everything i expected. drunk teenagers grinding on each other to some shitty rap songs.

“first party kid! how you feeling?” chris asks me as he shakes me in a playful manner.

“like i need a drink.” i say enthusiastically as i make my way to the kitchen.

“hey, stay with her yeah? nick and i are gonna go find some friends.” matt tells to chris as they matt and nick quickly slip away.

“why do i-“ chris tries to protest before hiving up and following me to the kitchen.

once i get into the kitchen, the counter is piled with all kinds of alcohol options.

“hey, this is your first time drinking,” chris begins as he makes his way to stand behind me. “you should probably take it easy, okay?”

i nod, acknowledging what he said. do i plan on listening?

no.

once my eyes land on a bottle of pink whitney, i immediately grab it. this is my dads ‘favorite drink’. in which, he would make sure there was a bottle of this stuff before there was food in the fridge when i was younger.

i grab a red solo cup from the stack right beside all the alcohol choices, as i fill the cup up with the alcohol.

chris takes notice of this as i shoot the drink down my throat, causing my face to scrunch immediately.

“y/n, im serious. ill take it away if you get too drunk.” he sternly speaks. “i mean, why are you wanting to drink all of a sudden? this is completely unlike you.”

i quickly spin around to face him. unbeknownst to me, is how insanely close we are.

“im-just,” i try to spit out. “i just wanna try something new.”

chris’s eyes furrow as he looks down at me. “what’s been with you the last couple days?”he softly asks me.

“i-,” i begin to speak. which is insanely hard to do, given the fact how he’s looking down at me which is turning my stomach like crazy.

“just don’t worry about it okay.” i finally get out.

i slightly push his chest to make way for me to walk away from him. to be honest, i don’t know why i’ve been acting like this either. my minds been going 90 miles an hour the last couple days. ever since that damn dream memory came back. the more i think of that, the more i want to not be able to. so i quickly down the full cup of pink whitney before throwing the plastic cup somewhere on the floor.

about 2 hours, and 3 full cups of pink whitney in my system later, im wasted.

im dancing with the crowd of people, laughing and singing with people i’ve never spoke two words to before tonight. liquid courage i guess?

“hey.”

i feel a hand on my shoulder which stills my movements as i turn around to come face to face with a blonde dude with brown eyes. beautiful brown eyes. almost like pools of honey-

“hey, what’s your name?” the blonde stranger asks.

“y/n.” i slur my words.

“nice, im christian.” he says, extending a hand out for me to shake.

i hesitate to shake it, before i do eventually. christian? where have i heard that name before?

“this is my party actually.” he proudly voices, looking around like he sculpted the party piece by piece.

oh. right. christian davis. this is his party. he is who im talking to right now.

“o-oh. well this is a nice house you have christian.” i drunkenly spit out.

“why thank you y/n.” he thanks me with a huge grin. “wanna dance?”

i barely have time to register what he’s even saying before i feel two hands on my waist, spinning me around so my back is pressed against his chest.

it’s like my body is reacting before my brain can even process what im doing, before im already closing my eyes and leaning my head onto his shoulder. allowing my hips to start swaying with his, almost in a rhythm.

when i start feeling light, opened mouth kisses on my neck. that’s almost exactly the same time i feel someone staring at me. which naturally causes me to open my eyes and look around the room to find the cause.

im looking around the room for a good minute until my eyes are met with the familiar icy blue pair. except this time, they’re more of a darker blue than usual. and this time, filled with pure anger as he begins to storm towards me.

almost in a second, im being ripped away from christian by chris.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing y/n?” he shouts at me.

“like you care.” i spit back, but grabbing onto his shoulder to stabilize myself.

“how much did you drink?” he asks, noticing my clearly intoxicated state.

i don’t say anything as i roll my eyes.

“dude. what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” christian speaks up.

chris’s attention turns from me to christian.

“what the fuck do you mean?” chris asks, clear anger present in his voice.

“i was obviously dancing with her. you can have your turn after.” christian voices as he crosses his arms.

this seems to spark something in chris. because in a heartbeat, christian is on the ground with a bloody nose with a pissed off chris standing above him.

“dude what the hell!” christian yells as he grabs his nose in pain.

“chris what’s going- oh my god dude.” matt asks, running over to stand beside us as he sees what obviously had went on. nate and nick standing behind him.

i stand slightly behind chris, a little dumbfounded at what just happened.

“y/n what the hell happened?” nate questions as he walks to stand by me.

“i-i don’t know.” i stumble over my words.

“are you drunk?” he asks me, closely examining my face and body movements.

i don’t say anything, instead just staring right at him.

“oh my god you are.” he says, letting go of me. “we’re leaving.”

“what-no!” i protest, crossing my arms.

“fine. then you can go home with the triplets. i wouldn’t take you home drunk anyways. dad would kill me.” nate turns to matt, “make sure you guys get her home.” and with that he’s storming out of the party.

“okay, come on y/n/n.” matt speaks softly as he gently grasps onto my arm to pull me out of the party. nick and chris following closely behind us.

as we leave, people part ways for us to make our way through. continuous whispers about chris punching christian fill the room as we exit the house.

____________________________________________

a/n: ngl kinda hate this chapter, but it’s okay🙏

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

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ermesskiss · 4 months

Text

what music I think jjk students would listen to

✧ ft: yuji, megumi, nobara, maki, todo, yuta, haraki, kirara ✧ a/n: been thinking about this for a minute, and I decided to write out my opinions/hcs

jjk adult version here + jjk character playlist works here

reblogs and comments are always welcomed!!

· · ───────────── 𖥸 ────────────── · ·

✦ yuji

➥ he definitely listens to pop music with overall good vibes. I also think he would listen to R&B and rap, but nothing that is too vulgar, he is the stereotypical sunshine character so I don't think it would be in character for him to listen to music that is highly explicit

➥ I feel like yuji definitely listens to music from the 2000s and 2010s, the type of music you would hear on the radio as a kid during that time, the nostalgic type stuff,

➥ I feel like he's a big fan of some of the old Drake music and Kanye's graduation album. I also think he would love Tyler, The Creator

songs

♪ Stronger: Kanye West ♪ Loving Is Easy: Rex Orange County ♪ Games On Your Phone: 24kGoldn ♪ Glitter: Tyler, The Creator ♪ Headlines: Drake

──────────────────────────────

✦ megumi

➥ my favorite emo, he for sure listens to dorky music, such as Weezer (hence, gege made Island In The Sun his theme song), probably some alt and rock

➥ though everyone calls megumi emo I don't think he would listen to sad/depressing 24/7 unless something horrible happened to him (the recent manga chapter) I think overall for somebody as grumpy as megumi, he does listen to more upbeat, positive music

➥ I think that he would listen to older music, stuff from the late '90s and early 2000s; I honestly think he listens to a little of everything in regards to the era. honestly whatever he does listen to relates to him or has some kind of story or meaning to it, if yk what I mean

songs

♪ You Get What You Give: New Radicals ♪ QUEER: BROCKHAMPTON ♪ Time to Pretend: MGMT ♪ I Want A Dog: Weezer ♪ Wake Me Up When September Ends: Green Day

──────────────────────────────

✦ nobara

➥ listens to more women artists than men (a true girls girl) regardless of the music genre, she's going to be more interested in women singers

➥ since nobara is very confident in herself and her abilities, she listens to music that makes her feel confident. Seeing her listening to sad music as she self-loath isn't in character for her

➥ a large majority of the music she enjoys is queer-coded (she's a lesbian, fight me about it)

songs

♪ Brand New City: Mitski ♪ Cherry Bomb: The Runaways ♪ Silk Chiffon: MUNA ♪ Broken Clocks: SZA ♪ Just A Girl: No Doubt

──────────────────────────────

✦ maki

➥ I get the vibes that she listens to rock music and also likes pop and some R&B; it’s a mix of all three tbh

➥ similar to Nobara, I can see her listening to music that makes her feel powerful, little music that is self-loathing; she’s trying to keep up with her stern and strong appearance

➥ is a Megan thee stallion fan, listens to her while training

songs

♪ Conceited: SZA ♪ I’m So Sick: by Flyleaf ♪ Did It On’em: Nicki Minaj ♪ Cocky Af: Megan Thee Stallion ♪ Hard Times: Paramore

──────────────────────────────

✦ todo

➥ All upbeat music, not a single sad or depressing song on his playlist

➥ Because it’s all upbeat music, he usually listens to rap and R&B. His workout playlist is the only playlist he listens to

➥ Also listens to music from female artists that are his type (Megan Thee Stallion, etc.), and he tends to listen to music that is explicit about women

songs

♪ Baby Got Back: Sir Mix-A-Lot ♪ Started From the Bottom: Drake ♪ Faneto: Chief Keef ♪ You Better Move: Lil Uzi Vert ♪ DOGTOOTH: Tyler, The Creator

──────────────────────────────

✦ yuta

➥ I think Yuta's musical taste combines Yuji’s and Megumi’s. On the one hand, he’s a lover boy, sunshine MC, and on the other hand, he has an emo/self-loathing part of his personality

➥ Given the genres, I would say he would listen to rock, alternative, bedroom pop, and Indi

➥ I think that yuta is open to listening to any type of music, he's interested in hearing other people's favorite music and he's also a bit of people pleaser so even if he doesn't like he'll agree so the other person doesn't get upset

songs

♪ Can’t Dance, Don’t Ask Me: Weezer ♪ Creep: Radiohead ♪ Day ‘N’ Nite: Kid Cudi ♪ Television/So Far So Good: Rex Orange County ♪ Bad Habit: Steve Lacy

──────────────────────────────

✦ hakari

➥ Listens to rap and R&B, without a doubt, and maybe some rock music from time to time

➥ Knowing that it is canon that he is a rebel and doesn’t like following the rules, I can see it fitting him also the fact that he’s a bookie and a player

➥ he's a drake fan

songs

♪ Baby Keem: Baby Keem ♪ Bad and Boujee: Migos ft. Lil Uzi Vert ♪ I Don’t Know Dem: Chief Keef ♪ F**kin Problems: A$Ap Rocky ♪ Crazy Story: King Von

──────────────────────────────

✦ kirara

➥ Based on their appearance and fashion style, they listen to alternative, rock, and dance/electronic

➥ kirara definitely giving off 2000s emo type music

➥ Since hakari and kirara are always together, kirara started to like hakari music more

songs

♪ freak show: Punkinloveee ♪ Ginseng 2002: Yung lean ♪ Helena: My Chemical Romance ♪ GOOD LOYAL THOTS: Odetari ♪ Hands Up!: 6arelyhuman

──────────────────────────────

✧ a/n: I had a hard time with a few characters; you would think, since I have over 1.9k liked songs, it would be easier lol. Anyway, feel free to comment your opinions and/or if you agree or not

#yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #maki zenin #mai zenin #inumaki toge #aoi todo #yuta okkotsu #kirara hoshi #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk hc #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #hakari kinji

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forbidden-sin-bin · 1 year

Text

By Your Side | Chapter 2

Summary: You meet with the man who made Infinite, Eminem; Or as everyone calls him Marshall, for the very first time.

---

“The hell do you want?”

You were taken aback by his aggressive demeanor, wondering what you did to provoke his annoyance. “Hey, take it easy man.” You raised your hands to show surrender. “I don’t want any trouble-”

“Then why’d you stare at me?”

You blinked.

“Uh... what?”

“You were staring at me.” He repeated, a little bit slower this time like you were hard of hearing. “You stare at people, means you’re looking for a fight or you’ve got a problem with them.” The guy huffed, looking a little less miffed. “You don’t know that?”

‘Sounds like this place is way too goddamn sensitive.’ You mentally quipped, still, you kept that to yourself.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ as you lowered your arms. “I do now though.”

He hummed, tilting his head at you inquiringly. “A’ight then, so what do you want?”

“Looking for a guy named Eminem.” You replied. “Or, you know, Marshall.” At the mention of both his artist alias and actual name, his brows raised in surprise for a moment before furrowing.

“That’s me. How’d-”

“The guy in the store told me that you had the cassettes for Infinite and all. Mind if I can snag a copy of your album?” You interrupted quickly.

His face morphed into a variety of emotions in a matter of milliseconds, ranging from surprise, to a glimmer of hope, and then back to suspicion and a mask of cynicism that he was so used to experiencing.

He was expecting disappointment, and he was long prepared for it as he gave you a scowl.

“Look, if this is a fuckin prank or something, just say it now.”

This time you had return the sour expression, half annoyed at his negative attitude, the other half confused as to how he came to that conclusion.

“Seriously?”

Marshall shoved his hands in his pockets, lifting his chin up to glare at you in a defensive manner. “I’m serious. Why the fuck would you wanna buy my album? There’s stuff like Kid Rock in that store ‘n shit. And how the hell did you know about it?” He shrugged, nodding towards your attire. “As far as I know, cause I know you ain’t from here, you had someone tell you about it.”

He was observant, that’s for sure. Yet his matter-of-fact tone like he already knew the situation and how it was going to end made your eyes flash with anger and chip harder at your patience that was running thin.

Not like you were a very patient person to begin with.

“And you think whoever told me is asking me, a total outsider that’s not from here, to pretend to be interested in buying Infinite?” You scoffed, hardly believing your own ears right now. “Actually, I saw the poster in the store myself, believe it or not; And no, this isn’t me feeling pity or some bullshit like that. I want to buy it cause I’m interested; I ain’t fucking with you buddy.”

The two of you stared each other down, neither letting up. You were beginning to have second thoughts, if he was so sure that you were messing around. ‘That’ll be his loss anyway.’ You thought, narrowing your eyes.

Finally, Marshall threw his hands up in an ‘oh well’ manner.

“A’ight. If you say so.” He motioned you to follow him as he fished his keys out of his pocket. “Didn’t answer my question though.”

You followed him close behind. “What, you mean why would I wanna listen to it?” He nodded, and you shrugged. “Well, call it my gut instinct; Out of all the album covers I saw, it was yours that caught my attention.”

“Uh huh... And?”

“And... I guess I had a feeling it might be worth listening to.”

“Even more than, oh, I dunno... Vanilla Ice?”

You gave him a disbelieving squint. “You serious? Nearly ruined hip-hop for me.”

Marshall didn’t say anything, but you swore you saw a ghost of a smile on his face, and you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back before asking:

“I really don’t look like someone who would be into rap music, huh?” This time, he actually broke into a brief grin.

“Fine, you got me.”

Unlocking the trunk of his car, he lifted the lid wide open, revealing a messy pile of cassettes, vinyl's, and CD’s, all of them Infinite. You in turn had already fished out the required six dollar cost that’ll pay more than enough for your new addition to your collection. “You know what? You’re pretty chill, my bad man.” He admitted.

You grinned, glad that you’re getting along well with him despite the rocky start. “All good, honestly I can’t blame you.” You paused before adding with a smirk. “Well, not too much, anyways.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Oh, so that’s how it is.” Raising his free hand, he stuck his middle finger at you playfully. “Well fuck you too.”

This time, it was your turn to laugh as you returned the gesture. ”Likewise.” Letting the obscene gesture stay in mid-air for a few moments, the two of you cracked up, looking away as you both tried to stifle your snickering.

“Okay, okay, seriously.” You managed to calm down and gave him a crisp ten dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

Marshall raised a brow as if you were crazy. “You sure ‘bout that? I mean, I ain’t gonna say no, if you were expecting that.”

You shook your head, smiling.

“I’m serious. This isn’t a charity case or anything; just think of it as a future investment.” You winked, hopefully in an encouraging way and nothing else. “I got a good feeling you’re gonna go far.”

“Well then,” he took the bill out of your hand. “At least you’ve got more faith in me than my last manager-” He was about to hand you the cassette until a familiar voice hollered from behind you, making the both of you jump.

“MAMAAAAAAA!!!”

“Oh shit-!” Whipping around, your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw Quinn practically half-hanging out of the car window, arms flailing as he waved to get your attention. You could hear the voice of your mother shouting: “Quinn! Get down from there!”

At that point, you already knew she was holding into the edge of his winter jacket, trying to yank him back into his seat.

“Uh- hold that thought.” You sheepishly gave Marshall the finger guns as you began to walk backwards, jabbing a thumb behind you. “I’ve got somebody who needs me-”

The boy waved you off. “I ain’t going anywhere, go get your kid.” you gave him a thankful smile as you turned tail and practically sprinted towards the van.

“Quinn! What are you doing?!” Grabbing him by the shoulders, you gently pushed him back into his seat. “That was really dangerous, you know!”

Your mom finally let go of his jacket. “Look, he already wants to leave!” Forcing your temper down, you leaned into the open window, letting her angrily chastise you with a stony look on your face. “Are you done? Can you get back into the car, or are you going to idle around this place and waste your time?”

“I was talking to someone-” You were cut off just as soon as you tried to explain.

“Well stop talking and let’s go!” Your mom snapped as your dad was just as ready to hop onto the bandwagon of yelling at you into listening.

“Y/N, get in the car.” He warned. “Now.”

Clenching your jaw, you whipped back around and walked a few paces away from the van, hands clenched in fists as you fought to keep your rage in check.

Once in a while, you’d let it slide and keep your head down to avoid having to drag it out any longer. Having to hear it often - and sometimes you really didn’t know what you did to make them scold you - was tiring.

If it weren’t for Quinn quite literally in the middle of the conflict, you would’ve blown up at them by now. But no, you couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You have to do it for him; You have to be better.

Taking in a deep breath, you strode back to the car and once again leaned into the window. Before they could say anything else, you simply announced:

“I made a friend.”

It wasn’t a lie, but to say Marshall was a ‘friend’ was a bit off. Either way, it made both your mom and dad shut up a little bit. It had been a while since you actually mentioned anything about friends, if you had any.

Your parents stared at you incredulously, not exactly understanding what you were trying to imply. “What does that have to do with anything?” Your dad demanded.

“It means: It’d be rude to just hop in the car now without saying goodbye to my ‘friend’, while we just ride all the way back to our hotel doing absolutely nothing until tomorrow. And by the way-” You gestured to the child pressing his ears shut with the palms of his hands. “You can yell at me later, okay? You’re scaring him.”

Thankfully, that seemed to have quieted everybody for now as they all looked at Quinn apologetically as he slowly lowered his hands. “Hey, baby... I’m sorry about that.” You patted his head comfortingly. “What did you want to call me over here for?”

The toddler looked back innocently. “I wanna go outside, please?”

You stared at him, exasperated. ‘Well, at least he gets right to the point.’

“What do you say?” Giving the child a stern look on your face, making yourself clear that you weren’t happy with how he handled that situation.

He looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“Uh huh. And?”

“I won’t do it again.” He mumbled.

You sighed, stroking his hair. “Thank you. That’s what I needed to hear.”

Glancing inside of the car, you waved to your parents. “Just for a minute or two. The whole place is safe, don’t worry.” Smirking a little, you added: “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Not bothering to wait for their response, you swung the side door open and lifted him into your arms. “We’ll be right back!” You called to them as you kicked the side door shut and repositioned him into being held sideways like a plank of wood. “Alrighty mister, it’s time to fly!”

Quinn giggled joyously as you spun around a few times before setting him down, taking his hand in yours. “You wanna go say hi to one of my friends?” You asked him. He nodded, already more focused on avoiding the cracks in the ground than actually listening.

Leading him back to where an amused Marshall waited, the sheepish feeling returned as you rubbed the back of your neck with your free hand. “Sorry about that,” you started. “I, ah, hope you don’t mind my nephew tagging along.”

To your surprise, Marshall’s demeanor completely shifted. You watched as he bent down, smiling warmly at the suddenly shy toddler hiding behind your leg.

“Hey little man, what’s your name?” He held his hand out, offering him a handshake, but Quinn burrowed his face into your side.

You patted his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay baby. He’s not gonna hurt you, I promise.” You reassured him soothingly. “Why don’t you introduce yourself? Think of it like it’s the first day of school and you tell the whole class your name.”

Quinn was quiet for a few moments before he slowly turned to face Marshall, sticking an arm out. “Mmh... Quinn... Am’ four.” He managed to mumble out before hiding again, though he still stuck his hand out, and Marshall gently took it, doing a little handshake. You shared an amused look with him, holding back a laugh as you both knew he looked more like a three year old than what the child claims.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Quinn.” He replied in a soft tone, one that you didn’t expect. “You got a nice name y’know? My name is Marshall, but you can call me Eminem.”

Hearing the name of one of his favorite chocolate brands, the toddler stuck his head back out. “M & M’s?” His eyes glimmered with wonder, initial shyness beginning to fade away. “Like the chocolate?”

“Yeah!” Marshall grinned. “Do you like them?” The toddler nodded. “Woah, me too! Isn’t that cool?”

You watched the two interact silently, trying not to grin. ‘Who knew a guy who acts and dresses like a gangster could do so well with kids.’ You thought as you leaned down to join the conversation.

“Be careful honey.” You reminded him as Marshall let him see his pierced ears, tilting his head to the side so he could touch the golden hoops.

Having completely forgotten his timidness, Quinn brushed his fingers across the earrings. “Did they hurt?” He asked, admiring the shiny metal.

“A little,” he admitted. “But only for a little bit. After that, I’d completely forgotten.” Quinn nodded along.

“Mama’s got earrings too.” Both boys looked up at you. “Right Mama?”

“Right...” You trailed off, not knowing if you should correct him.

‘I really shouldn’t have let him get away with that, calling me something that I didn’t earn the rights to.’ You thought, holding back a sigh.

“That’s your mama, huh?” Marshall asked him, to which the child eagerly replied with an “Mm hm!”

“That’s cool, she’s a cool mom, ain’t she?” They shared a nod, which you held back a laugh. “What about your da-”

“HEY!! Hey, you wanna hold onto my music player baby?” You cut in, bitter ice rushing into your veins at the mere mention of Quinn’s dad. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice your panic as he was more eager to interact with your sacred walkman, bouncing excitedly.

You showed him the music player, holding it above his head as you laid out the ground rules.

“Alright, if you wanna hold it, promise me this: Do not drop it, do not wander off, and you have to be very, very gentle with it. Promise?”

His tiny hands reached for it. “I promise!”

Finally relenting, you gave him the walkman as he held onto it like a priceless treasure.

“You wanna sit here buddy?” Marshall patted the edge of the open trunk, giving you a quick look that clearly meant he wanted to talk to you. You gave Quinn a nod as he looked to you for permission, and he reached his arms out to him as he was picked up in a manner that only someone who dealt with kids before could do.

“Now you’re a big man.” He patted the toddler’s head before turning to you, moving closer so he wouldn’t eavesdrop.

“What was that all about?” He asked, frowning.

You sighed, putting your hands into your pockets. “Well, first off, he’s actually my nephew.”

“Huh...” Marshall furrowed his brows. “So, where’s his mom?” You saw this was coming, but that didn’t stop you from wincing a little.

“Gone.”

“What do you mean go- oh.” His face turned to one of realization. “Oh shit. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged in a vacant manner. “It’s all good.” You quickly changed the subject, praying he wouldn’t bring up either parent any further. “You’re pretty good with kids, have you got any younger family members at home?”

He smiled, almost shyly. “Yeah, I got a little brother, Nate.” He looked down, trying hard to contain his sense of love and pride. “And I have my little girl, she just turned one last Christmas.”

‘Ah, so that explains it.’

“Definitely says a lot about you, y’know.” You returned his expression warmly. I’m glad I bumped into you when I did, I put in a damn good investment.”

“Aha, cause I know how to handle kids, or is it really cause of my rap skills?” Before he could hear your reply, he suddenly added: “Speaking of handling kids, you say that’s your nephew, how come he calls you mom?”

“Well-”

“Also, where’s his dad at?”

Giving him a grimace and a look that clearly showed you didn’t like to even think about the damn topic, his face turned to realization and disgust as he put the pieces together.

“Shit, he a deadbeat?!” There was heated snarl in his voice that matched the fiery rage lighting up his eyes. “Fuckin pussy jus’ fucked off and left his baby?!”

While your nod was a satisfying confirmation, his thoughts on this coward of a man weren’t. He turned away from you, muttering out insult after insult behind his breath before composing himself.

“Goddamn, I’m really sorry you have ta’ deal with that. It’s his loss, your boy’s a sweet kid.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” You replied, stealing a glance at Quinn, making sure he was still right where you left him. Sure enough, he hasn’t lost interest in your walkman at all.

“Well, there’s your answer. And judging by that look on your face, you want to ask me why the hell he calls me mom, eh?”

“Took the words outta my mouth.” He looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

You paused, feeling sheepish once again as you rubbed the back of your neck. “I mean - you know - I told you before, he’s my sister’s son. So... him calling me ‘mom’, well you know-

“-But you’re still his mom.”

You blinked in surprise, Marshall’s face turned into a slight frown.

“He sees you as his mom, and you take care of him like a mom.” He affirmed. “Doesn’t make your sister any less of his mom, but if he calls you mom, it’s cause you are his momma.”

There was silence after that, but not in an uncomfortable way; It was a few seconds of contemplative quiet, the occasional sound of cars passing by and Quinn’s fiddling with your walkman being the only background noise that gave way for a good time to consider his words.

Perhaps pausing one too many times before you finally found the words, you eventually replied: “You’re probably right.” Again, another pause as you kept your gaze to the ground, hands in your pockets. “Honestly, you’re probably the first person to tell me that; Doesn’t make me feel any better though.”

“I getchu.” Marshall nodded in understanding, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at your downturned face. “An’ I don’t blame ya, wouldn’t be surprised if your parents beat yo ass if you ever brought that shit up.”

The two of your shared a nearly humorless chuckle.

“Either way, don’t take my word for it.” He added with a shrug. “I just think he’s a real lucky kid if he gets to have a mom or aunt like you, fuck anybody who says otherwise.”

You shared eye contact, though this time it was out of mutual comprehension for each others’ situation, rather than uncertain intent of potential hostility.

While it was a pleasant interaction between two strangers, you both knew your conversation was coming to a close. After all, you had a plane to catch tomorrow morning, and he had a job to do to pay the bills and put food on the table.

“Speak of the devil,” You muttered as you heard the obvious noise of the family van’s engine creeping. “I ain’t gonna keep you for much longer, you probably-”

“-Yeah, yeah.” He was quick to finish, suddenly feeling awkward. “Shit, it was nice talking to ya. But- yeah - I got stuff to do, working on my next album-”

“Oh shoot, really?” It was a sudden knee-jerk reply, likely feeble in attempting to make the moment last a bit longer. “Damn, you know when you’re gonna release it?”

Marshall made a mix between a grimace and a pondering look as he made the guesswork in his head.

“Probably... maybe late this year or early next year. Gonna try somethin different, like, ‘fuck everyone’ kinda different. How ‘bout you?” He inquires.

Tilting your chin in acknowledgement, you replied: “Yeah, I got an audition coming up in a few days in New York. It’s supposed to be some sort of minor role in this… fighting movie? Not too sure yet.”

“Oh, word?!” Marshall looks a little shocked, eyes wide. “Shit, I got a movie star buying my album. That’s dope.”

You huffed an amused chortle. “Hey, don’t get your hopes up yet. I’ve got a couple dozen other people I need to compete against if I ever want to get another callback or a test screening.”

He replies with a confident glint in his eye. “You’ll make it, like I said: Fuck anybody who says otherwise.”

You grinned. “Fuck anybody who says otherwise.”

He holds out his hand, and you return it with a firm clasp and a shoulder bump.

“Hey, you know whether if your next album is mailable or not?” You asked, and he raises a brow quizzically.

“I mean, you could ask my manager if you’re that desperate? You got a pen’n’paper? I ain’t usin mine...”

Like a remote controlled button press, you reached into the inside pocket of your hoodie and whipped out your notebook, pen clipped to the cover. “Does this technically count as an autograph?” You thought aloud, to which he laughed.

“If it is, you’re the first one asking for it.” Taking the pen and notebook from your hands, he flipped to a blank page and quickly jotted down the contact info. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

As he handed your notes back, you quickly glanced down to skim over his writing, seeing the name ‘Paul Rosenberg’ on it. Noticing another name at the bottom corner of the page, your brows raised, intrigued.

“Slim Shady?” You read out.

Marshall tilted his head up proudly. “My new alias; Gonna be the side of me that holds nothin back next album. Jus’ you wait.”

You smirked, giving him a look of approval. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Quinn broke focus off of your walkman as you called for him, letting him know it was time to head back. Shuffling himself off of the car trunk, he toddled his way over to you, taking your awaiting hand, taking the walkman back and putting it in your pocket.

“Nice meeting you Marshall.” You gave him one last nod, which he returns with a faint smile, before you leaned down to Quinn’s ear. “What do you say to the nice man?”

Quinn turned to face Marshall, looking a bit sad, but far less shy than he was initially. “Thank you...”

Marshall chuckled, giving the toddler a pat on the head. “No problem lil’ man. You take care of yourself, aight?”

Nodding, Quinn waved as you slowly led him back to the van. “Bye!” He eagerly waved with his free hand, not breaking eye contact until he heard the door of the van open, and he climbs into his booster seat obediently.

Buckling him in, you slide the door shut and go to climb in on the other side, but not before turning around to call out to him one last time.

“Hey Marshall!”

“Yeah?”

“Remember me once you’re famous, okay?”

The surprise on his face was one to remember, just as much as the loud and joyful “HA!” he lets out; One that he really needed, before hollering back:

“Only if you remember me once you’ve made it big, baby!”

Your face breaks into a massive grin that you couldn’t remember ever doing in ages, as you give him one last salute.

‘I’ll be holding you to that… Slim Shady.’

——————

A/n: IT’S DONE. IT’S FINALLY DONE, HOLY SHOT.

*me literally saying that chapters would be quicker when I posted chapter 1*

*five months later*

*me, sweating like a sinner in church*

HHHHHHHHH-

I’m Canadian, the amount of apologizing is normal don’t worry-

But for real. I’m so sorry. Thank you all so much for your patience. I hope I was able to deliver and that it was worth the wait. I promise you guys, the reason it took so long was me constantly rewriting the conversations you and Marshall were having. I needed it to feel right, and I’m still feeling it’s not completely right, but it’s maybe right enough.

If you read this far, thank you very much and I hope things will be much better and quicker from here on out!!! <3

#By Your Side Series #eminem x you #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem imagines #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #fanfic series

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