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stylesispunk · 4 months

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"The not so invisible string" | part 3

not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

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summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count:8k>

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, fluff.

a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks to write something, and it was hard because I had no inspiration, so this is probably my worst piece of writing. However, I hope you enjoy it, The next chapter will be better because I have inspo for that one. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 You can always send asks or talk to me whenever you want. Again, sorry for the chapter, i promise the next one will be better 😭

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dividers by @/saradika

When's the exact point in life when you stop feeling excitement for what's to come? Growing up becomes a deadly fear creeping within your bones because there's no more dreams left for you, but you face the cruel reality of life becoming a cycle, a boring idea of waking up to survive the day instead of living it, when you face that the ideas you grew up with died with the years passing by.

But now, as you approached Joel’s place of work, the familiar rush of butterflies and excitement began to creep back in. You felt like a teenager before a first date with the person you like. Just as you were breaking down, Joel came back, pulling you into perspective.

You had recalled the three happiest days of your life: the first time you held Tara in your arms, the first kiss with Joel, and the day you met Joel. Even though the last happened at such a young age, you should have forgotten about them by now.

The car pulled into the parking lot of Joel's workplace, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Finally, you arrived at Joel's office. The door stood ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound reverberated in the room, and Joel looked up from his desk, a warm smile breaking across his face.

It has been days since the first time you saw him again, and your heart was getting used to the idea of him surrounding you again.

"Hey," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm glad you came."

You offered a polite smile in return. "Well, you promised me a job or something.”

Joel gestured for you to take a seat. "Absolutely, I'm excited to discuss it with you."

Once you took a seat, he was speechless for a moment once again, his gaze fixed on you, on your hair, on your eyes, on your lips, and all over your face when he used to kiss you all over every time he wanted to, but he dismissed those thoughts away before you could notice he was looking at you that way.

"I've been thinking," Joel began, breaking the momentary silence, "about how we can make this work, about the job, about us working together."

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“"I know it's not just a job," he admitted. "It's a sort of chance for the both of us to rekindle our friendship.”

Friendship—how bad he wanted to be the romance.

“So is this a trap?” you asked.

“A trap? No,” he answered. “You know, all this construction stuff is not your cup of tea, but I would really like for you to help me get things organized here.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows frowned.

Joel leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "Because it was you who used to organize my life before, and you’re the most organized person I know.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly at his unexpected compliment, and the nostalgia in his eyes was evident.

"Joel, we need to be clear about our boundaries here," you emphasized, steering the conversation back to the work matter before it led to other things. "I'm here for a job, not to rekindle old flames or revisit the past. We have responsibilities, and our daughters are involved. Let's keep it professional."

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree. Professional, it is. We're both adults, and I’m your boss now,” he smirked at the last sentence.

You chuckled at Joel's playful remark. "Fair enough, boss. Let's get down to the details, then. What exactly would my role be, and what are the expectations?"

Joel leaned forward, outlining the scope of the position and the responsibilities that needed your attention.

As you settled into the chair, Joel began outlining the job details, providing a comprehensive overview of the responsibilities involved. Your focus remained on the professional aspects of the conversation, but every now and then, a shared glance or a subtle reference to the past hinted at the layers of history between you.

Midway through the discussion, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Tommy entering the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked, glancing between Joel and you. His eyes widened, and a smile broke across his face as he recognized you.

"I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been so many years!"

Joel stood up, wearing a grin. "Tommy, I introduce you to our new assistant.”

You extended a hand, but Tommy went straight up for a hug. "I’m really happy to see you again.”

“I say the same,” you replied with a smile, feeling a warmth in reconnecting with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with nostalgia. "Well, it's great to have you back in the picture. Joel rarely brings people here, so you know what that means?” He paused a moment to look at you again. "Wow, you look just as beautiful as I remember.”

You exchanged a curious glance with Joel, knowing the implication behind Tommy's words.

Joel rolled his eyes, a bashful grin on his face. "Tommy, stop making it sound like a big deal."

"Hey, I'm just stating the facts," Tommy replied, winking at you. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your business. Nice to see you again."

As Tommy exited the room, you turned back to Joel, the air carrying a subtle shift in dynamics.

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in work-related discussions, temporarily setting aside your shared history. The task at hand became the priority, and you delved into the details of the job, determined to establish clear professional boundaries in this unexpected turn of events in your life.

As the weeks passed by, Joel and you got used to your new routine; seeing each other added some excitement back to your life again, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for what you once had been together, bringing back the memories of the past, while the fresh cultivated growth between you added a new purpose to your days.

And as if the present would want to get the memories of your history together as two strings connecting your lives, you came back from a meeting with some suppliers with a scraped knee.

As you limped back into the office, Joel noticed your discomfort and immediately became concerned. "What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed with worry.

"Just a little accident during the meeting," you replied, trying to play it off. But Joel could see through the facade, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

He still knew you so well.

“They didn’t hit me, by the way; I fell. Just to clarify” you smiled, as Joel reached for the first aid kit, no long after, he was kneeling beside you, carefully cleaning and applying a band-aid to your scraped knee. The touch of his hands brought back a flood of memories—the innocence of childhood and the way he used to caressed your skin as you grew up.

As he secured the band-aid in place, Joel couldn't help but smile. "Do you remember the first time I did this?" he said, his tone nostalgic.

You chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? It seems like a lifetime ago."

Joel's gaze held a warmth that transcended time, and in that moment, the lines between past and present blurred. He placed his hand over your knee, and his touch made your skin burn at the contact, but not in an uncomfortable way, but as a warm sensation that only he was able to give.

"Joel,” you whispered.

Joel's touch lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a silent understanding between you, a connection that surpassed words.

"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure it's secure."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and familiarity. "Thanks, Joel. For taking care of me.”

A smile played on his lips, and he stood up, disposing of the used bandage. "Anytime, Doe.”

Your hearts kept beating at the same sound and at the same rhythm, desperately finding a way to belong to each other again.

Two days later, in the evening, as you were getting dinner ready for Dwight and Tara, Dwight suggested inviting Joel and Sarah over for dinner since it seemed like you and his daughter seemed to enjoy their presence so much.

“What? Why?” you asked, being caught off guard by the suggestion of having Joel share the same table with your husband.

“Well, it seems like Tara is a good friend with his daughter. Plus, it would be good to know this so famous Joel.”

You couldn't deny the truth in Dwight's words, but the idea of having Joel and Sarah over for dinner still stirred up complex emotions. Not for Sarah, of course. But Joel meeting the man you had settled with seemed so out of touch.

"Why not?" Tara chimed in, trying to reassure you. "It'll be nice having them over."

After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But keep it simple, okay?” You turned to Dwight and said, “Please, behave.”

Dwight nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Simple it is. It's just a friendly dinner, no strings attached."

You took a deep breath, considering the implications. "Alright, I'll call Joel. But let's keep it casual.”

You dialed Joel's number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hey, Doe, what's up?"

You smiled at the nickname this time. Since having him back, you were getting so used to his presence that you almost loved that word slipping from his lips.

"Joel, we were thinking of having you and Sarah over for dinner. Just something simple," you explained, trying to keep the tone casual.

There was a brief pause before Joel responded, "Dinner sounds great. We'd love to. What time?"

Joel agreed to the time you offered. You felt painful anticipation and nervousness after hanging up the phone.

As soon as you heard a car pulling over in front of your house, your heart rate increased at the nervousness you felt for what could be happening as soon as Joel entered that door. You feared Dwight the most. He wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly was someone different from the person you had married; his recent behavior had been puzzling, almost as if he wanted to drive you away. The thought of potential humiliation loomed, and you couldn't shake off the unease in your mind.

“I’ll welcome our guests,” he said, standing on the couch. You nodded, trying to mask the worry on your face.

As Dwight greeted Joel and Sarah at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself in the kitchen. The sounds of casual conversation and laughter echoed from the living room.

You walked there, approaching Joel, who was wearing a really tight smile, trying not to make you uncomfortable.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to erase the shakiness from your bones.

"Hey," Joel replied, his smile mirroring yours, but there was an unease in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed.

Dwight led everyone to the living room, and as they settled in, you couldn't shake off the tension in the air. Tara and Sarah, however, seemed eager to catch up, leaving you and Joel with a shared glance, reflecting the tiny smile at seeing both of your daughters spending time together.

“So, uhm, babe, why don’t you serve dinner? Our guests must be starving already!”

Dwight's casual comment lingered in the air, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you made your way to the kitchen. Joel followed suit, excusing himself from the conversation in the living room.

Once in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. You began to cut some vegetables for the salad, the clatter of utensils masking the quiet tension in the room.

Joel, sensing the unease, spoke up, "Do you need help?"

You glanced at him, grateful for the lifeline. "Sure, if you can handle chopping some vegetables."

As you worked side by side, the silence between you spoke louder than words. The weight of unspoken history loomed, and each passing moment felt like a delicate dance on a tightrope.

Joel broke the silence, his voice hushed. "Are you okay?"

You offered a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get through the evening."

He nodded, respecting the boundaries between the two of you. Ever since you two had rekindled your relationship and friendship, you had become more open to him, yet being in your house as the wife of another man was completely different. He felt tense, yet he wanted to be fine for you.

With the vegetables chopped and the dinner done, Joel and you walked around the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. The warmth of shared memories collided with the reality of the present once more.

It was Friday night, and you and Joel stood side by side at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables and exchanging stories from the day. Joel’s fingers brushed against yours as you reached for spice—a simple touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you prepared the ingredients, Joel leaned in, whispering the steps of the recipe in your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a rush of heat through you. Cooking had never been more enjoyable now than when you were living together, sharing stolen kisses in the middle of a kitchen transformed into a space where time seemed to stand still.

How bad you wanted time to stand still yet.

As the final touches were put on the dinner plates, Joel hesitated, his voice once again breaking the silence. "I never imagined us in a situation like this."

You paused, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me being in the kitchen with you in the house you live in with your daughter and husband.”

The weight of his words echoed the sentiments you both shared but didn't dare voice. "Well, things change,” you replied, your tone carrying the weight of time passing by.

With the dinner ready, you both carried the plates to the dining table. Everyone sat down, Tara and Sarah sat side by side, and Dwight, seemingly at ease, directed the conversation toward casual topics, creating an illusion of normalcy.

Joel sat across from you, his eyes occasionally meeting yours, looking for an answer.

“So, Joel,” Dwight began, "what do you do for a living?”

“Building contractor,” he replied, a little bit tense.

“Building contractor” Dwight recalled, “We’re calling you when something gets broken.”

Joel chuckled, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Fixing things is what I do." He mocked.

Dwight nodded approvingly, steering the conversation away from the unspoken tension. "Well, it's good to have someone handy around. You never know when a pipe might burst or a door might get jammed."

“He is a contractor, not your personal Plummer,” you intervened, a little bit tense with Dwight's careless attitude.

Joel looked at you appreciatively, and you could sense his relief at your intervention. Dwight chuckled, a casual dismissal in his tone. "Well, fixing things is fixing things, right? It's all in the same realm."

You sighed inwardly, realizing that Dwight's nonchalant approach was his way of diffusing the tension, but it didn't alleviate the unease in the air. Joel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the delicate nature of the conversation.

“Maybe he could fix that attitude of yours,” Dwight said, swiping his wine as he pointed out your attitude.

You raised an eyebrow at Dwight's comment, with surprise and hurt crossing your face. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Joel let out a forced chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Dwight," Joel said with a half-smile, "we're all just figuring things out here. There is no need for any fixing, just understanding."

Dwight leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough, fair enough. I can take a joke. But seriously, Joel, you're welcome here. Just promise you won't go stealing my wife without a warning.”

Joel's forced chuckle faded into an uncomfortable silence as Dwight's comment took an unexpected turn. The atmosphere in the room became more palpably strained, and you exchanged a quick glance with Joel, recognizing the need to address the comment delicately.

“Tara, can you and Sarah go upstairs, please?” you pleaded. She immediately understood and took her friend with her upstairs.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to Dwight. “Stop behaving like an idiot in front of others,” you warned.

Dwight's playful demeanor shifted as he met your stern gaze. The air in the room carried the weight of your warning, and for a moment, the unspoken tension became more palpable.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Dwight responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Well, then lighten the mood without making inappropriate jokes," you countered, your voice firm.

Joel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's try to keep things civil and avoid unnecessary complications."

Dwight sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "Fine, fine. I'll tone it down. No more jokes.” He paused for a moment, not looking at you. “But I would like to know why my wife hides that you are actually her boyfriend.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Dwight's question hung in the air. You felt the weight of his words, and Joel's eyes met yours.

“Actually, I think I better be going. It’s getting late,” Joel spoke, meeting your watered gaze.

“No, you’re not,” Dwight warned. His expression remained firm, and he spoke with an authoritative tone. "Joel, you're a guest here, and we should resolve this now. We're all adults, and we can handle an honest conversation."

Joel hesitated, caught between the desire to avoid further conflict and the weight of the unspoken truths that lingered in the room. He glanced at you, silently seeking guidance. You took a deep breath, recognizing the need to address the situation.

"Dwight, we need to handle this with care," you urged, your tone calm yet firm. "Joel has the right to leave if he feels uncomfortable. We can discuss things more openly when tensions have cooled down."

“I want to know why you lied to me about it,” Dwight said to you.

In your nervousness, Joel noticed you were uncomfortable. He reached for you to touch your shoulder in order to make you feel better, but before he could come closer, Dwight intervened.

“Don’t touch her,” Dwight warned.

Joel withdrew, a frown forming on his face, but he respected Dwight's demand. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the unspoken complexities of the situation continued to unfold. The need for a careful and honest conversation was evident, but the challenge was maintaining a level of respect and understanding in the face of rising tensions.

"We need to talk about this," you said, your voice steady. "But let's do it when we can all approach the conversation calmly and with an intention to understand, not to accuse."

Dwight nodded, his expression still stern. "Fine, but we will address this. No more hiding."

Later, as you and Dwight prepared for bed, the weight of the unspoken conversation loomed over you. Dwight, however, was not ready to let the matter rest.

"Before we go to sleep, can we talk about this?" he asked, his tone earnest.

You hesitated, fully aware that addressing the issue in your current emotional state would only escalate matters further. Instead of responding directly, you began gathering a few belongings, making your intention to spend the night in the guest room clear.

"I just need some space tonight," you explained, avoiding eye contact. "We can talk about everything in the morning when we've had time to think."

Dwight's expression shifted between frustration and concern. "I just want to understand, to know the truth."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And we will talk. But not tonight."

“You’re married to me,” he called out before you stepped out of the room.

You turned to face him, your expression displaying frustration. “And?”

“You own me respect,” he stated.

“Respect must be earned, and right now you are acting like an idiot,” you acknowledged, your voice steady.

With that, you left the room, leaving Dwight to contemplate his behavior. Right now, you felt your marriage was dying little by little, and you wanted nothing more than just freedom.

+++

The next morning, there was a palpable sense of tension in the atmosphere. As you prepared for the day, the weight of the unresolved talk with Dwight hung heavy in your mind. He was nowhere to be found during the morning, so you get ready for the day.

After a restless night, you decided to head into work, hoping that a change of scenery and a return to routine might provide a necessary distraction. As you made your way to Joel’s office, you noticed Joel sitting with quiet contemplation in his eyes.

"Morning," you greeted, offering a tentative smile.

"Morning," Joel replied, his expression mirroring the unease in the room.

"Oh, I just wanted to say sorry for last night," you began, choosing your words carefully. " Dwight's attitude was completely

Joel shook his head, a small smile breaking through. "It's not your fault. Beside, I can handle a bit of tension."

You appreciated his understanding with a tiny smile.

“Did you sleep well, though? You seem restless,” he pointed out.

You sighed, acknowledging the toll the previous night had taken on your peace of mind. "Not really. The atmosphere was a bit... tense."

Joel's gaze softened, understanding the weight of the situation. “Well, I’m sorry for being back in your life,” he joked.

“Don’t say that,” you tilted your head. “You’re the best thing that happened to me this last time.”

Joel's smile widened at your words; the tension in the room was momentarily replaced with a warm exchange. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to be back." He paused and said, “Take your time. Relationships are like construction projects. They need a solid foundation and careful planning."

With a chuckle, you responded, "You would know, being a building contractor and all."

As the day unfolded, you found yourself grateful for Joel's presence and the brief moments of levity he brought. It was a reminder that, amidst the uncertainties, a supportive connection could make the uncharted territory feel a bit less daunting.

+++++

“By the way, Sarah called me; she and Tara are going to my house to finish this school project,” Joel told you.

A sense of relief washed over you as Joel shared the news about Sarah and Tara. It provided a welcomed diversion from the complex situation you had at home.

"Oh, that's great," you replied, a genuine smile forming. "At least they have each other's company. I hope the project is going well."

“It’s great how they became friends so easily. It reminds me of us,” he said, smiling.

You couldn't help but smile at Joel's observation. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?”

Joel nodded in agreement, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “Okay, so you’re free to go; I can drive Tara home once they’re done with the project.”

You nodded appreciatively at Joel's offer. "That would be great, thanks. And thanks for being here, Joel," you said, expressing gratitude for the fresh air he had offered you since he became part of your life again "It means a lot."

Joel nodded, a reassuring presence. "Take your time, and remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. We'll get through this."

“See you later, then?”

“See you later, Doe”

+++++

Once you arrived back home, Dwight was there. The tension already felt like a string around your neck, suffocating you all over.

As you stepped back into the house, the familiar surroundings felt charged with tension. You both exchanged a cautious glance, each aware of the elephant in the room. Dwight, however, seemed to be avoiding the topic, engaging in mundane conversations through his phone with someone else.

After some time, when you could no longer bear the unspoken tension, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dwight, we need to talk about last night. We can't just ignore it."

He sighed, a subtle avoidance in his eyes. "Can't it wait? I've got a work trip coming up, and I need to get everything sorted."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your expression. "A work trip? You're leaving for the whole weekend?"

Dwight nodded, his gaze drifting away. "Yeah, well, I’ll come back next Friday. It's a last-minute thing. I need to handle some important projects. It came up unexpectedly."

The timing felt convenient yet suspicious. The air thickened with unspoken questions, but Dwight continued to divert the conversation away from the pressing issues.

"Dwight, we can't keep avoiding this," you insisted, your voice firm. "We need to address what happened."

"I know, I know," he replied, a hint of impatience in his tone. "But I've got to leave now, and I need to get some rest. Can we talk when I get back?"

The evasion felt deliberate, leaving you frustrated and with a sense of urgency to address the unresolved matters. However, faced with the impending work trip, Dwight's departure seemed inevitable.

"Fine," you reluctantly agreed, though the unease lingered. "But when you get back, we're talking about this. No more avoiding."

Dwight nodded, though his expression remained distant, but still he pecked your lips.

“Take care, and take care of Tara,” he said before stepping out of the house.

You were left there in the middle of a living room that felt colder as the days passed by. You have never felt so small in your life as you were feeling now, living under the same moon as Dwight, and that thought alone made you sick.

Every time sadness overcomes you and salty tears stream out of your eyes, you take out your memory box and look at the pictures of your older self, the one who thought she knew everything, the one who thought she knew herself without her half. Every single time you came across those memories, it was Joel, the one beside you, looking at you as if you were hanging the moon in the sky, and you smiled.

When you looked at the pictures of him, you were relieved by the words and the kisses, and suddenly all the space surrounding you was full of him. You had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t complete without him; he lived inside you because he made you feel complete; he taught you how to love and be loved and how to know you were worth the world; and after him, you accepted that you were never going to be that foolish girl again.

But now, you were in front of his door, hesitating and gathering the courage to knock on the door and face the what if, and when Joel opened the door with surprise on his face, you were him, and he was you.

"Oh. You’re not a pizza guy,” he said, with evident surprise in his voice.

You managed a small smile at Joel's observation, appreciating the brief moment of levity. "No, not the pizza guy. But I was alone at my house, and I thought I could stop by and take Tara home.”

“Actually, I promised the girls a pizza; we were just about to.“

"Oh, okay, I can come later,” you interrupted, feeling ashamed of the sudden feeling you have to be closer to him again.

“What are you talking about? Of course, no, come here,” he said, moving from the door entrance to allow you to step into his house.

This was the first time you were here, and you couldn’t help but recall all the features of Joel that made him him. How those tiny objects and decorations around his house told the story of him, and how would it be if you didn’t leave that night?

“Such a cozy home.” You emphasize the word home since this one felt like one.

Joel smiled warmly at your compliment. "Thanks. I try to make it feel like home. Come on in; make yourself comfortable."

Suddenly, his hand traveled to your waist, guiding you through his house, and the air was cut from your lungs. Your eyes met for a second, and his hand left his spot; however, his handprint still burned.

However, Joel guided you toward the living room, where Tara and Sarah were eagerly setting up the table for their promised dinner. The girls looked up, their faces lighting up with surprise and excitement.

"Hey, look who's here!" Joel announced, his tone cheerful as he entered the living room with Sarah and Tara. The girls greeted you warmly, their excitement contagious.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Tara asked, walking towards you to envelope you in a tight embrace.

You hug Tara and say, "I thought I'd drop by and join you guys for pizza." You lied.

I felt alone; you thought for yourself only.

Sarah chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Are you staying for the movie night too?"

You looked at Joel curious; he still had Friday's movie night. “I supposed,” you answered, still looking at Joel. “Can I?

"Absolutely,” Joel said, not taking his gaze away from yours.

“What about my dad?” Tara asked, “Is he okay with this?”

“Well, he left for a business trip, so we are alone for the weekend,” you replied.

And before more questions could be asked, the doorbell rang.

“The pizza, I’ll go for it,” Joel announced, disappearing from your view.

“Mom, are you okay?” Tara asked, concerned.

You gave Tara a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to spend some time with you and have a fun movie night."

Tara nodded, still showing a hint of concern. "If you ever need to talk or anything..."

"Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her caring nature.

As Joel returned with the pizza, the evening continued with shared laughter, conversation, and the simple joy of spending time together. The movie Night became a bridge connecting the past and the present, offering a glimpse into the potential for renewed connections.

The living room, adorned with warmth and laughter, and everything between you and Joel felt so natural as if time didn’t pass by.

You didn’t notice, but Tara paid attention to the both of you with a smile on her face. This exact moment was the picture she had always imagined of a happy family. A happy mother, a father who didn’t need to utter words to show the love he felt for the woman beside him, because she saw in Joel’s eyes the way he looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, that man loved you, and she felt at ease.

“You know, you can stay the night." Joel offered you, once Sarah and Tara fell asleep in Sarah’s room, “You can take my bed and I can take the couch.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the implications of Joel's suggestion. It was completely fine for a pair of friends, but you weren’t just that, and you both know that behind all the reconnection, there was addiction to something you couldn’t possess.

"I appreciate the offer, Joel," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "But I should head to my house.”

“But you don’t deserve to go to a lonely house,” he said, trying to plead with you about the idea of spending a night with you under the same roof. He started to feel a joy inside his gut, all his feelings hidden there.

You could sense concern in Joel’s voice and see the pleading dancing in his eyes, but saying yes to him felt like steeping into fire. You still saw in Joel all the habits he picked up from you, being the pleading eyes one of the things you remembered the most, and now you could understand the implications of what your departure did to him.

His heart broke in two, just like yours.

"I appreciate the concern, Joel, but I don’t think it is fair to you," you said, your voice gentle.

“Please?” He pleaded again, his eyes sparkling so much that you could follow the light on them.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” You gave up; you couldn’t say “no” to him so many times.

You saw his dark brown eyes twinkling as he nodded, smiling at your answer.

"Thank you," Joel whispered, breaking into a small, relieved smile.

You followed him into the familiar surroundings of his home; every step felt like discovering a new way back home. A sense of warmth enveloped you, making you feel protected and comfortable in Joel´s presence.

Once you stepped into his bedroom, you took a seat on his bed, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The familiar scent of Joel was all over the space that you could navigate inside this wall blindfolded, and the comforting presence of him felt like a step back in time.

Joel, sensing something dancing in your eyes, opened his closet and pulled out a set of comfortable clothes. "Here, you can wear these for the night. They should be comfortable enough."

“Oh my god!” you said, looking at the shirt Joel had lent you. “You still have this?” you asked him, in awe.

Joel chuckled, the warmth of shared memories evident in his eyes. "Yeah, I kept it. It's been tucked away in the back, but I figured it might come in handy tonight."

Your fingers traced the fabric of the shirt. "I can't believe you still have it. It feels like a lifetime ago."

He smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. "Some things are hard to let go."

For a moment, time between you stopped, and for a moment, you were still able to see the sunlight through his hair in the morning and how he sounded when he laughed. And you hoped you didn’t damage his heart that much.

"Thanks, Joel. It's been a while since I wore something from your closet." The soft fabric of the shirt still carried a subtle scent of Joel that brought back a flood of memories.

He chuckled a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yeah, it has. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight, Doe."

Doe

You allowed him to call him Doe this time, pretending he was still yours and you were his.

"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, changing into the borrowed clothes. The fabric held a hint of his familiar scent, adding an extra layer of comfort as you settled beneath the covers. The bedroom door closed, leaving you in the soft embrace of memories as sleep gradually claimed you.

However, the soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows as you lay in bed and witnessed your sleeping trouble as you tried to find solace in the familiar surroundings of Joel’s room.

It was different. Sleeping in a bed with the scent of the man whose presence allowed you to sleep wasn’t the same when he wasn’t next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

So, as sleep proved elusive, and after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you decided to go downstairs, hoping Joel was awake.

As you descended the stairs, the hushed sounds of the night filled the house. The soft creaking of the floor under your weight was the only disruption to the silence. When you reached the living room, you saw Joel sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on an old photo album.

He seemed lost in a sea of memories, unaware of your presence. You stood there for a moment, observing the emotions playing across his face as he traced the images with his fingers, as if he were savoring the past with his fingertips, trying to bring it back.

When he finally noticed you, a small smile curled his lips. "Couldn't you sleep either?

You shook your head, joining him on the couch. "Too many thoughts."

He nodded in understanding, closing the photo album. "I get it."

Back in time, Joel had the advantage of taking your heart when it was still a blank canvas expecting to be painted on. He took it so delicately and caressed it with such care in order to never hurt you. He made you love him so much that once he wasn’t in your life anymore, you didn’t know where to put his love anymore.

It never left.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the closed photo album in his hands. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper.

You sighed, the ache of longing settling in your chest. “Back when?”

"When we were young and foolish, everything felt so alive."

As you looked at Joel, his eyes held a warmth that transcended the years. "We can't change the past, Joel," you said, your voice gentle. “The past made us what we are now.”

“Yet it cost me to lose you,” he said.

You took a seat beside him on the couch; the distance between you measured not in physical space but in the vast expanse of years and the unspoken words that lingered in the air.

"I lost you too," you replied, your voice a whisper. The weight of the shared regret hung between you, a palpable reminder of the choices that had shaped your lives. "But maybe, in losing each other, we found different paths, different versions of ourselves."

Joel's gaze remained on the photo album, his fingers tracing patterns on the closed cover. "Do you ever wonder about what we could have been?”

"Always," you confessed. "But you don’t lose me at all; I’m here again.”

A small smile played on Joel's lips. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch a tender exploration of the years that had etched themselves on your skin. His thumb traced the contours of your cheekbones, a soft caress that spoke longing and love.

Leaning in, Joel brought his forehead to rest against yours, the closeness of your proximity stirring memories of when you belonged together. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, and inside your chest, you felt your broken heart patching together, with such a burning desire to close the distance between the two of you.

His lips hovered close to yours, a breath away, the pull of history and the magnetic force of shared affection urging him forward. The world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, and you found yourself caught in the gravitational pull of an unfinished story.

But even when the kiss could rewrite the story, you weren’t a cheater. You heart raced, but your mind stopped doing something stupid and naïve.

Before you could make up your mind completely, Joel pulled back, his eyes searching yours. The unspoken words lingered in the air.

"Does he treat you right?" Joel's words hung in the air, a mix of genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

You took a moment, your gaze meeting his, and there was a silent conversation between you two.

"In some ways, he's everything I need. In others, he's a puzzle I'm still figuring out." You answered.

Joel nodded, avoiding your gaze as he felt his heart break all over again for you.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” you began, “Dwight and I were dating. It had been only three months, and couples aren’t parents in such a short time.” You paused for a moment, hoping for Joel to look at you again, and when he did, you continued, “I was scared, but he was so nice to me at that moment, and by the end we were over the moon. At least I was happy I was going to have a baby girl. When Tara was born, we moved in together, and long story short, we got married because it seemed correct at the time.

“And?” Joel asked, trying to figure out when your life becomes different, but he still knew by the way your eyes looked that not everything was as fine as it seemed.

“He was an amazing husband and friend; it almost made me forget about the broken heart I had because of you. But these last four years with him had been complicated,” you continued, a touch of vulnerability in your voice.

“How?”

"Just because he is different from me. It’s like he is plotting for an ending and Tara is noticing, and it felt so humiliating to have your own daughter notice her father doesn’t love her mother.”

Joel's gaze softened for a moment, and before asking a question, he was scared to ask, “And do you love him?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden question, and a moment of hesitation hung in the air. You took a deep breath before answering.

"It's not that simple," you admitted, your voice carrying uncertainty and honesty. "I care about him, but..."

“But what?”

“You know what.” You said it in three simple words, and he understood.

It cost so much to keep love from going wrong, but between you and Joel, there wasn’t a particular ending. The lovers between you both never went wrong; neither expired because you were still hungry for each other's devotion. But now that it seemed like time had become your enemy, you weren’t young enough to break free and run as you could have done it before.

“I love you,” he said. “Never stop doing it.” His voice resonated as someone who spent years and years yearning for the touch of their lover.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, not avoiding saying the three words back to him; he didn’t need to hear them. He already knew you loved him back as much as he loved you. “For the way I left you,”

Joel's gaze held relief and understanding. He knew somehow you had healed from those wounds. "I don't blame you, Doe. We were young, and life threw challenges at us. I've had my share of regrets too.” He reached out, his hand finding yours, and they still fit together as one. “Now, can we please be friends again?” he pleaded.

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Now that you’re back, I couldn’t let you go.”

Joel's eyes sparkled with a newfound light, and he suggested, "How about we watch a movie until you fall asleep?"

You agreed, and together you settled on the couch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of you in a world of shared moments.

As the movie played, the silence between you held a comfort that transcended words. Joel shifted, creating a makeshift pillow with his arm, and you found a natural spot on his chest. The rise and fall of his breath became a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a long time without pills.

Joel looks down at your sleeping figure on his chest, with your hand grasping the gem of his shirt. He was starved by your touch, wanting nothing but to trace patterns on your face as he used to. Your soft expression lines told the story of how the past and present went from here. That there’s no one he could call home, and you could never leave home completely, and how easy it would be to be young again.

And he looked at the ring on your finger, a reminder that you weren’t his anymore, and how easy it was for someone to feel hungry by something that was forbidden. Yet he thought about the ring he still had with him, still waiting to find its way to your finger.

You were the kind of love he couldn't find on someone else's body. Your touch, your lips, and every single inch of your skin were the starvation Joel was deprived of, and now you were his forbidden fruit.

Nevertheless, under the dim light of the TV screen, your face was glowing in a soft golden tone that sent Joel to sleep, but he was holding his dream in his arms for the first time after so long.

When the morning sun gradually painted Sarah’s room with the soft hues of the warm sun, Sarah and Tara descended the stairs, their steps cautious not to disturb the tranquil air that enveloped the living room.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, their eyes fell upon you and Joel, still intertwined on the couch, lost in peaceful sleep. Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness at the sight of her mother and Joel holding each other like that.

Sarah couldn't help but notice Tara's radiant smile. "Why are you smiling so big?" she whispered to her.

Tara motioned toward you and Joel, the affectionate way in which you two held each other not escaping her keen gaze. "Look at them,” she said, still smiling.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips.

Tara nodded, her smile unwavering. "This is the first time I have seen my mom at peace.”

Tara’s gaze was still fixed on the pair on the couch. "Maybe Joel can bring that peace back to my mom’s."

Sarah chuckled, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Are you saying we should ship your mom and my dad?"

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "I'm just saying if they make each other happy, why not?"

Weekend passed by and Tara asked no questions about why did you fell asleep on Joel’s chest, she clearly knew the answer to that question yet she didn't judge you, since she was a little girl, she noticed each sacrifice you had made for her and how you had distributed all the love you had inside your heart to her.

How bad she wanted for you to be brave enough and get divorced from her father.

So, when Monday arrived, the weight of the tension between you and Joel seemed to shift. The echoes of the weekend lingered in the air. This time, you both look happier, acting as friends, laughing together and sharing time as you kept your role of assistant.

So, before lunch and after you finished with the work Joel had left for you while he was out, you decided to go and buy lunch for him and you to share, after all you would arrive to an empty house since Tara would be still at school and Dwight was in a business trip, you didn't want be left alone with your thoughts in an empty house that seemed to become colder as the day passed by.

You buy a bottle of lemonade, and two burgers with French fries, hoping for Joel to still being number one of them. You weren’t used to come to this part of the city, but this time you stopped in order to bring the burgers and fries you wanted to share with Joel.

However, once you paid, the corner of your eye caught a person you didn't expected to see. There was Dwight, who was supposedly in New York until next weekend, buying food here. You turned away for him not to notice you, then you decided to follow him to see find out what was happening.

So, when you followed him, you stopped a little away and saw him happily taking a little girl around four years old in his arms as he kissed her temple with so much love you never saw him share with Tara, and what was next was a woman around the same age as you joining them with a smile on her face and you heart stopped.

She kissed Dwight on his lips, as both of them looked at the little girl smiling happily in the arms of your husband.

A surge of emotions tightened in your chest as you witnessed the scene unfold before your eyes. The knot of anxiety and confusion grew with each passing moment. The woman with Dwight, the affectionate exchange, and the child—all pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit into the life you thought you knew.

As the trio walked away to the car, laughter and joy enveloping them, you were left standing there, alone with the weight of a shattered reality

You felt humiliated. There were your answers. The four years of odd behavior, the four years of plotting against you, his sudden trips, his careless attitude towards you.

all the way, Dwight had made you and Tara move to Austin just for him to be closer to his other family, the secret one.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99

@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick

@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx

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faeriecap · 5 days

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you know what’s really fucked up? the mcu skipped over bucky’s entire character arc and sidelined any representation of not just his healing but all personality because no homo so he would be lucid and battle ready in like one freaking day to fight steve’s civil war uwu!!!!

because they passed over what should have been a gradual and natural reunion between him and steve, it got shoved into the civil war plot out of necessity but had to happen really fast. so all the REALLY good accords arguments steve has about violation of privacy and big government agendas and power structures becoming corrupted and dictating what the avengers do or dont do get completely ignored in favor of blaming steve’s actions on “infatuation” and “nostalgia.” and it’s played off as totally irrational????

Rather than it being him putting the needs of the people first and foremost AGAIN like he IS DOING!!!!so many viewers see his challenge of the accords and tony as a petty feud over a friend they view as not worth enough to even fight for. the absolute value of bucky aside, this puts him and steve in a position of not just selfishness but immaturity: steve acts like a child on the playground or a lovesick puppy. this could be personal platonic love, but imagine if bucky were steve’s long lost girlfriend instead (like if hydra took peggy). people would blast steve for being a fool in love much like they did wanda with vision in iw but they wouldn’t say he was as irrational for it! without that, bucky still gets the same treatment plus thinly veiled homophobia

some anti-woke fans literally mocked steve’s “weakness” with implications that they attribute it to him being gay for bucky. i mean looking back at some of steves lines theyre SO relevant and SO right!!! and so antifacism!!!! but they get ignored beause they force fed us surprise bucky!!!! and its almost like the film wants us to side with tony because the entire time steve’s resistance is played off as stupid and selfish FOR SOME GUY. it puts steve in a super negative light, objectifies bucky, and creates dislike for him because now hes nothing more than a catalyst and then erased for the rest of the mcu narrative????? just consider how the film would have been if it was completely absent of bucky? if all we heard were steve’s speeches on corruption and people using means to their own gain? of reading the fine print? of only being able to trust themselves and each other?

td;lr: bucky’s development was twisted into a plot device that erased him of all personality because they didn’t want to devote the proper time and care to his storyline and they did that to fit it into the civil war plot line but it wasn’t even worth it because all it did was put bucky and steve in a negative light and as such steve’s entire argument in civil war becomes a big joke which sucks because he makes some top notch points

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frenchkisstheabyss · 6 months

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✶ Bliss ✶

✶ Pairing: model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, smut

✶ Summary: Weeks of being caught between your two lovers, sitting idly by as your heart battles your head, must come to an end. You have to decide once and for all which door to leave open and which to close forever.

✶ Word Count: 2k-ish

✶ Warnings: a lil possessiveness, reader's getting over some insecurities, heartbreak, oral sex (f receiving), some strong language

✶ A/N: This is the last of a three-part series. You can find 🖤 part one here 🖤 It took me a bit to finish this because life was doing its thing but I'm happy with how it turned out so I hope you lovelies enjoy it!

You should’ve never come here. You should’ve stayed as far away from this man as possible. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk. The reality is that you didn’t stay away. Hyunjin called and you came now you’re coming around his fingers, allowing yourself to be claimed once more by the lust filled demons of your past. And, oh, what a glorious one he is...

As he lulls you down from your high with gentle kisses along your neck, you await the intoxicating afterglow you’re accustomed to. Only there is no glow in the "after". It's dark and empty, Hyunjin’s words echoing through your mind on a loop.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

It was such a rush the first time you realized how badly Hyunjin wanted you. He’d confessed to you front row at a fashion show. To anyone watching there was nothing notable about the quick whisper in your ear or the brushing of his hand across your knee. They couldn't fathom the way such small gestures had turned your world upside down.

You felt so special. Special enough to let him see you in secret with promises that one day you’d go public. Make things official. Be a real couple. Finally have the love story you dreamt of.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

The undertone of toxic possessiveness sours the nostalgia sweetening this reunion, bringing you to a realization that has somehow eluded you up to this point. In his eyes, you’ll always be a thing. A precious thing, his absolute favorite thing, but always you belonging to him and never him to you. This is not your fairytale and he is not your prince.

“This can’t happen again” you sigh, pressing your hands to his chest to create distance between you. Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes at the foolishness of such a statement, “Will you say that next time too?” You could go back and forth with him, exchanging verbal jabs until he beats you into submission, but it’d be for nothing.

“Take care of yourself, Hyunjin.” You smooth out your dress and throw your jacket back on, pushing past him with an indifference no one’s ever shown him before. Give him your love. Give him your hate. He can find a way to work with either one. Your indifference, on the other hand, is alien to him. It’s a savagely forged blade to his gut, slicing him open and leaving him to bleed out in the halls of his own exhibit.

“So you love him more? Is that it?” he calls out, catching you before you disappear forever. You pause, searching for the most honest answer that you can offer. “I love me more,” you say, shocked by your own words, “at least I want to love me more, and I need someone who makes that easy for me.”

“And he does?”

“Yes, actually, very much.”

Thoughts of Minho wrap around you like a warm, fuzzy blanket making you crave his presence. Wherever he is, doing business in Seoul or on a shoot in LA, you want to be there. “Hyunjin, honey, people are pulling up!” his manager, a sharply dressed older woman in designer glasses, announces strutting through the doors. You peek outside to see how right she is. His adoring public is already arriving, ready to file in and shower him with enough affection to last a lifetime.

Not that any of it will ever be enough. Not when the only one who matters is about to walk out of his life. His manager looks you up and down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here. “I didn’t know we were opening early” she quips, cutting her eyes at you. “I’m leaving, actually.” “Oh, what a shame.” Hyunjin interrupts, nearly knocking into his manager to get to you, “See you around sometime?” “I'm sure you will.”

Waving goodbye to his manager before she sets you on fire with her mind, you throw yourself back out into the cold autumn night. As the door of the gallery shuts behind you, so does the door leading back to what you shared with Hyunjin. You know without question where your heart is. It’s not with him anymore and it never will be again.

“You want me to go hiking?” you ask, smiling politely at the waiter setting your plate down in front of you. “Thank you” Minho nods to the departing waiter before turning his attention back to you, “Yes, you. We can spend the whole weekend hiking and camping. It’ll be nice to get away, don’t you think?” You’ve never seen Minho this excited about anything. He may not show it on the outside but that little twinkle in his eye gives away how passionate he is about the trip and how much it'd mean to him if you came along.

Next week will be the first time in a while that you'll both be free of your hectic schedules and all he wants is to be with you. Of course, you want the same thing, even if you run the risk of being eaten alive by bugs in the process. “I think it’ll be wonderful” you agree, twirling food onto your fork, “Let’s do it. I’ve always wanted to wrestle a bear.” Minho nearly spits his drink out laughing, “Who said you had to wrestle a bear?” You grab a napkin, reaching across the table to wipe the wine from his chin.

“That’s what you do when you go camping right? Forage for food. Wrestle bears. Challenge mountain lions to a foot race. Survival show stuff.” Minho can’t find the words to explain how completely wrong that is, he’s too busy trying to keep it together in front of the other diners. Osteria Francescana is one of those restaurants that's impossible to get a reservation at unless you know someone. They won’t even put you in their book if you don’t meet the standards for their elite clientele.

It’s always made Minho uncomfortable to be in places like this. As gorgeous as it is, with its fancy menu and candlelit dining room, it’s not really his scene but tonight it has to be. He wants to ask you something. Something that has him nervous enough that he couldn’t touch his food if he wanted to. He thought that getting dressed up and taking you out on a romantic date might give him the courage to say it but he's quickly learned that it makes no difference. You scare the hell out of him all the same.

“Have you thought about us?” he asks, forcing himself to get it over with. You sense that something’s off. Not knowing what, you proceed with caution. “Thought about us as in...” Minho clears his throat, fidgeting with his rings. “Being together. Just me and you. I know that Hyunjin—” “Hyunjin isn’t anything to me,” you say, refusing to let him go any further. You knew that this would come up eventually. Minho never pressed you about your history with Hyunjin. He never asked if you still saw him or forced you to open up about your feelings but he was bound to get curious. It's only natural.

Maybe he’s been avoiding it, too afraid of what the truth might be, but there’s nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest. You lock eyes with him, taking his hand, “I love you, Minho. You’re the only one I want. I've known that for a while. I just didn’t wanna rush you.” Correction, talking about the camping trip isn’t the most excited you’ve ever seen him. This is. His ears are turning red and he can’t stop himself from smiling no matter how hard he tries.

“Rush me? No. I love you too. I always wanted—I do want—will you be my girlfriend?” “I’d love to be your girlfriend.” You rub your cheeks to chase away the tingly feeling coming over them. He asked you, he really asked you. Instead of stringing you along with only the hope of something serious, he went for it. It heals your wounded heart, wipes away some deep seated pain, to know that he loves you the way that you love him.

“We should do something to celebrate. What do you think?” “Hmm,” you muse, one of your high heels skimming the inside of his leg. Minho tilts his head to the side, glancing under the table and back up at you with a mischievous look on his face. “I wasn’t talking about that.” you scold, realizing too late what you’ve started, "Get your mind out of the gutter. No!"

Teetering on the edge of the black marble sink, you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making noise. Sneaking away from your table had been easier than you thought. No one seemed to notice you walking off to the bathroom or Minho slipping in behind you a few minutes later. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You shouldn’t be doing this and that’s precisely why it feels so damn good to do it.

Any worries you have about getting caught disappear when you feel the warmth of Minho’s mouth pressed against your core. He catches himself humming at the taste of you as he licks up one side and down the other. Repeating it until your clit’s stiff and twitching, begging for his attention. He flicks his tongue against your clit just enough to get a reaction out of you. You run your fingers through the soft strands of his chestnut hair, tugging at it to signal that you want more.

Kissing the plush of your inner thighs, he spreads you wider to admire the beauty of you being so drenched and needy when he's barely done anything to you at all. Slowly, he dips the tip of his tongue into you, swirling it in circles just beyond your entrance. “Please” you whine, melodic and low. Minho grins at how adorable you are. “So cute.” You grab onto the sides of the sink, fighting for control of your trembling body. “Shit, why do you taste so good? Hmm?” he pants, diving back in for more.

A moan escapes your lips, the pleasure too intense to contain. You shove your fingers into your mouth, a desperate attempt at blocking the next one but it only works for a short time. Before you know it you’re drooling around your fingers, moaning between rapid, shallow breaths. Knowing that he needs to work quickly to avoid suspicion, he devours you with the hunger he should've had for his dinner. But you're so much tastier than anything this restaurant could offer him.

The wilder he laps at you, the wetter you are, and the more of you he needs. Nothing has to be said for him to know when you're close to your peak. Your body gives you away every time. Minho takes your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours, steadying you as the tension snaps, leaving you clenching around his tongue. A sensation of pure bliss radiates through your body as he holds his pace, stopping only when you're too overstimulated to take anymore.

Standing up, he brings you into his arms and rests his head on your shoulder. He holds you lovingly, not expecting a thing. To him, you’re the most precious woman, his absolute favorite, and at last, you belong to each other. It means everything to bask in this moment—in any moment—with you. You close your eyes, kissing him on the forehead, bathing in the ethereal glow of the “after”.

This is your fairytale and he is your prince.

#stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #plus size reader #stray kids x chubby reader

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seat-safety-switch · 6 months

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There is a secret war happening in the heart of our world, friends. Combatants strive for absolute supremacy, a way to force their onerous new rules on regular human beings just like you and me. You only need to go to the cereal aisle at your local grocery store to see it for yourself.

When I was a kid, there were thousands of breakfast cereals. It was big business: fill kids with sugar laced corn byproducts. Quick breakfast, get them out the door. That was before the Carb Panic, which is not related in any way to carburetors, which remain a perfectly valid form of fuel metering and injection. Suddenly, breakfast cereal wasn't "cool" anymore. Sales dropped. MBAs freaked out. And a huge portion of our shared cultural history evaporated, just like that.

Even now, people of a certain age still have these brands woven into their sense of identity. You will lumber through the rest of your life, sleeper-like, until abruptly activated by a series of names that industrialists tattooed onto your prefrontal cortex. Post Oat Flakes, your brain will screech, we remember the titan it once was. A gentle frisson of nostalgia, followed by a haunting void and an awareness of the irreversible march of time.

Reduced competition means an easier time making money, right? Not so: as our civilization slowly looks down, Wile E. Coyote-like, and realizes that we actually stopped doing anything at all a couple decades ago in favour of moving some numbers around in Excel, people are cutting out things like Fruit Loops in favour of "eating actual food" and "paying my rent." This time, though, the cereal pushers learned their lesson. If the grocery stores don't want to stock their cereal because of low demand, they can simply hike the prices so that everyone gets their respective beaks wet. Seven bucks a box! Sir Grapefellow would have been ashamed.

Don't worry, though. I've got a plan. You see, the Canadian government stocked a bunch of anti-nuke bunkers with food and water and other supplies way back in the 50s, 60s, and 70s. In the 80s, they had kind of gotten used to the whole idea of being obliterated in a millisecond and largely stopped caring as much. All that cereal is still perfectly good. If you bring your dad's old bolt cutters, we can probably sneak out a couple boxes before the Mounties figure out we're there. Might be a little stale, but that's better than living under the whip hand of Bob Kellogg's. I swear to whatever deity is listening that I will once again sup of Count Chocula.

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

Brothers and undataebles walking in on MC singing “You Will Be Okay (Stolas Lullaby)” to their younger sibling who accidentally came along with them to Devildom

“Y/N!” Your sibling wailed.

The person you were cuddling had never seen you jump up and run so fast, but here you were, Usain Bolting it down the hallway to your sibling’s room. You would have thought that they were being murdered and you were about to throw hands with the murderer.

____ got up and followed you down the hallway, trying not to disturb the two of you. He stopped just to the side of the doorway when he heard you singing a lullaby to your sibling. He took a small peek and saw you sitting on his bed and leaning over to tuck him back into bed.

Lucifer

This was the one night that you were able to get him to leave his work where it was and go to bed with you, but he can’t exactly blame the young child. The Devildom wasn’t for the faint of heart, so he understands why they would have a nightmare.

He actually found it absolutely endearing how you treated them with care, reminding him of how he used to treat his brothers when they were just young angels. This was just one nostalgia trip for him, and he pulled you into a passionate kiss when you walked over to him.

Mammon

He didn’t appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night, but your sibling had a special place in his heart. He actually was going to volunteer to help them go back to sleep, had you not sprinted faster than the Flash.

The second born would never tell you, but as he watched the two of you in the dorm frame, he imagined a future where he could have a family with you. He always dreamt of having a family in the far future, especially when you agreed to let him be your boyfriend.

Leviathan

Mans was probably still awake, so he just followed you to your sibling’s room. He also didn’t blame your sibling for waking up because of a nightmare, since they were surrounded by scary demons who are ridden with sin.

As he watches you sing them back to sleep, he can’t help but revel in the warm feeling within his undead heart. He feels like he unlocked a super rare cutscene and now he can’t wait to unlock more soft moments between the three of you.

Satan

He ran with you since he cares about your sibling almost as much as you do. He let out a huge sigh of relief when you both found out that it was just a nightmare, so you entered the room before him.

He stood next to you as you sung the lullaby, having his hand on your shoulder while you leaned into him. It actually reminded him of those moments in the horror novels where the parents console their child, and it made him feel warm inside.

Asmodeus

Mans did not want to wake up, but he couldn’t go back to sleep unless you were next to him. So, he went to go see what happened, only to stumble upon this absolutely adorable scene between siblings. He had to use every ounce of self control in his body to not squeal.

He never knew you had pipes either, so when the two of you go back he will beg for you to sing the lullaby to him. He gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes, one’s that he knows you would never be able to resist. He ends up winning, and he gets sung a lullaby for the first time in millennia.

Beelzebub

Mans views your sibling as his sibling, so he is probably racing against you to their room. The sigh of relief you both let out when you realize that they weren’t in danger was so in sync, then you walked into the room and he stayed in the doorway.

He loves how you took care of your sibling as though you were standing in loco parentis. This demon is very family-oriented, so he most definitely wants to have kids one day with you (be it through adoption or biological process, or smth else).

Belphegor

If you weren’t his pillow, he would never have woken up. Unfortunately, he was laying right on your stomach, so he was jostled awake when you jumped up and ran to your sibling. You didn’t even consider how this would affect him…

However, as he leans on the door frame while he watches you gently sing to your sibling, he can’t help but feel like it was worth being woken up just to be able to witness this little moment between the two of you. You couldn’t imagine how hard his heart was beating.

Diavolo

Since you were his spouse (if you are cuddling with him in his bed, you are most definitely his spouse at this point), your sibling was next in line for the throne until you both had or adopted a child. So, you both were constantly worrying over their safety.

The soft but tired smile on his face as he lingered at the foot of your sibling’s bed, watching as you gently tucked them back in while singing the lullaby, was there because he remembers when Barbatos would do the same for him.

Barbatos

He moved swiftly, but you were going faster than Speedy Gonzales. He was surprised at how fast you ran through the hallways just to see if your sibling was alive and well. He quickly went to get some soothing tea.

When he came back, he found you singing softly to them as you gently brushed their hair out of their eyes. You made him so weak in the knees that he almost dropped the tea, but he caught himself and poured a small cup for the younger child.

Solomon

He felt groggy, but he did follow you to your sibling’s room in case you needed any assistance with anything. After all, if something had broken in and threatened your or their life, then he would put himself in front of you both.

However, your sibling told you both that it was just a nightmare. Solomon pulled up a chair for himself as you sat yourself on the bed and started to sing to the young child as you tucked them in again. The sorcerer had a small smile on his face as he saw how tender and loving you were being.

Simeon

This archangel has had experience with taking care of young angels (I.e. Luke), so when he hears your sibling wailing then he knows what to do. However, you are ten steps ahead and running to your sibling.

He was surprised at how quick you were to take action, calmly drying their tears and reassuring them that you were there. His heart soared to heights he never thought he could go, even with his actual wings. Seeing you so caring just did something to him, if only humans and angels could actually be together and have families with one another…

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justapigeonn · 3 months

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the thing i don't understand when ppl try to defend gray wing's constant bootlicking of clear sky is they'll always bring up the argument 'well DUH they're BROTHERS gray wing would never want to believe that clear sky's a bad person!!' but that entire argument goes out the window when you make them remember that gray wing literally threw hands with clear sky upon discovering he'd exiled their younger brother jagged peak after breaking his leg.

gray wing travels to clear sky's camp to confront him PERSONALLY and when clear sky outright admits that he cast out jagged peak because he was 'weak' and 'no longer useful' to him or the group because of his disability, gray wing's first thought is to get PHYSICALLY VIOLENT with clear sky because he understands how fucked up and selfish his mindset is - and this is only book 1 mind you. he KNOWS that clear sky is willing to abandon those less physically capable than him out of his own selfish interest and physically fights him over it and is still understandably seething over it when he gets home and then we proceed to never reeeally see that side of him towards clear sky again (until one notable scene we'll get to later) even as clear sky gets progressively worse and more violent.

this bit has been discussed time and time again but for the sake of expanding my point - later on in the books when the moor cats come across bumble on the verge of death, gray wing himself and the others hear clear sky sheepishly admit from his own mouth that after finding her alone on his territory starving and desperate, he beat her to the point that she fell unconscious and he left her to her own devices

clear sky severely downplays the situation and claims to only have given her a 'cuff to the ear' but because we've already witnessed him murdering a mother cat over a simple territorial dispute first hand through the eyes of thunder, the likeliness of this being a lie is almost absolute. and what can gray wing do all while bumble is bleeding to death on the ground and turtle tail mourns her? he worries about how clear sky's reputation might be tarnished in the eyes of the moor cats :( as if that wasn't already the case after his wrongful exile of jagged peak and his unnecessarily aggressive and territorial behaviour. all of a sudden keeping clear sky's name squeaky clean is of the utmost importance to him despite him not really caring about about that at all in the previous book and merely standing up for what was right and giving his brother the piece of mind he deserved.

but ok, what happens when gray wing witnesses clear sky murder a cat with his very own eyes? - not just any cat mind you, but an old tribemate and beloved friend/ally of gray wing. surely he'd believe it and act accordingly right?? yeah!.....

....for roughly 5 minutes. even CLEAR SKY HIMSELF appears shocked

later on in the early chapters of the blazing star it's only reinforced

but yeah while that's all the text i can be bothered to sieve through right now, all in all gray wing had like 2 notable moments standing up to clear sky before resorting to being a spineless apologist for him. we KNOW he is capable of standing up to him and gray wing KNOWS what clear sky is capable of and what he's done but then he switches gears for little known reason. there's compassion and then there's sheer stupidity and gray wing repeatedly displays the latter.

i have no problem with gray wing still retaining some level of nostalgia and love towards clear because at the end of the day, yes, they are brothers they grew up together and were at one point exceptionally close, but that doesn't leave him any right to downplay the god awful things he did and protest when others are rightfully hateful towards clear sky.

anyways stan thunder idk why the fandom was always so adamant about casting him to the side and cultivating a rivalry between the two brothers when thunder was always a far superior foil to clear sky in every conceivable way

also p.s. please don't let me stop you from liking gray wing if you want to this is sheerly an over the top rebuttal to a common argument i see used to defend the author's poor writing choices

peace and love ✌️💞

#warrior cats #dotc #wc #warriors #gray wing #clear sky #tw ableism #tw animal death

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wardenparker · 1 year

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What Happens in Vegas, part 1

Marcus Moreno x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 8k Warnings: Mentions of partner death and divorce, smatterings of imagery of drunk sex. Technically most of this could be considered dubcon for drunkenness. Summary: A high school reunion in Las Vegas sounds great right? A fun, adult way to catch up with old friends and have a great party in the process. But everything goes a little sideways when you wake up the next morning in bed with someone unexpected. Notes: Part one of two! Marcus Moreno was absolutely a drama geek in high school and I will not be taking criticism.

Your eyes shoot open, and you sit straight up in bed. A mistake if there ever was one. Pain starbursts behind your eyes and you immediately pinch them shut again with a hiss. Shuffling slightly to cradle your pounding head, you moan as you hunch over. Not remembering much past the night before and having no clue on how you ended up in a bed. There's a grunt beside you, making your eyes shoot open again, but this time you don't try to resist the pain. You had definitely not come to your reunion with someone, so the idea of someone else in your bed is terrifying at best. One-night stands and being surprised by your bedmate the next morning had died in college during your walk of shame days. He's turned towards you, eyes closed, and face relaxed in sleep. One that you would have known anywhere, even if you hadn't tried keeping up with him through the years. You realize your own nakedness when you see his bare chest, gasping and yanking the sheets up over your breasts.

You’re in bed with your high school sweetheart, Marcus Moreno.

That place between sleep and awake is Marcus's favourite. It holds no worries and beautified reality, making touches feel like floating and sounds muffle as though they were coming through a wall of fluffy blankets. There is warmth beside him and beating down from his other side, vaguely registering in his sleepy mind as warm morning sun. He would have wafted through this half-feeling until he fell back to sleep, but he felt a jolt beside him and heard a yelping sound. Those were definitely not things from his dreams. Nor was the instant pounding that took over his head, making the previously comfortable sun feel like a jackhammer instead.

Marcus groans, rubbing his eyes as he gropes around for his glasses and slowly starts to string thoughts together: a bed, with someone else in it, in the morning, and he definitely has a hangover. He groans again, pained this time, and wonders what the hell he had gotten himself into. Vegas is a hell of a place to wake up with someone he doesn't know, and he briefly wonders if he had done something stupid last night. Once his glasses are shoved on his face and he can unglue his eyelids, he forces himself to look over.

Oh shit. It’s you. His high school sweetheart. What the hell happened last night??

"Mar– Marcus?" You stammer, your eyes widening, and you do an internal assessment of your body. Oh, you had definitely had sex. The ache between your legs is one that you hadn't experienced in a while but is consistent with a very vigorous night. You pull your hands down from your head and twist to look at him, hating that you don't remember what the hell had happened. The last thing you remembered was the slideshow at the event center. Nostalgia rampant and the bar open, while the graduating class went through the Most Like To list. Seeing everyone and sharing drinks had apparently caught up with you. "What happened?"

It's not until he sees you gripping the sheets to your body that he looks down – and realizes he's completely naked. Letting out a yelp of his own, Marcus pulls the comforter around him and then immediately cradles his aching head. The more conscious he gets, the worse it hurts. "Um..." Think, Moreno, think! But thinking hurts so much. "I'm not sure." He confesses. "I mean...we, uh..." his eyes are wide, looking between the two of you with embarrassed guilt. His core and thighs burn a little, and there is a faint taste of something tangy in his mouth along with stale beer. "I think we..." He sighs. "We definitely had sex..."

You hate how his sleep rough voice affects you. Low and gravely, it makes your core clench, and you feel the remnants of that observation between your thighs, sticky and thick. "Yeah, uh – I agree with that." You shouldn't be this embarrassed by that fact. It wasn't like you hadn't had sex with Marcus before. Hell, he was the first person you had sex with in your life. Sixteen and thinking you were going to be with him forever. "I–" Something catches your eye when you go to rub your head again, making you stop and flip your hand over, staring in horror at your left hand. A ring sitting on your ring finger, something that definitely wasn't there before this morning. "Did we– did we get married?" You manage.

"No!" Marcus is absolutely sure that that couldn't have happened, but his throat runs dry all the same. Slowly, he lifts up his own left hand where a shiny gold ring of his own gleams in the sun. "Or...maybe yes?" He tries not to focus on how good you look. Hair mussed and eyes a little droopy from having just woken up. He hasn't seen you like this in almost twenty years. Goddamn you look good. "I'm sorry," his face contorts in embarrassment. "I honestly don't remember much. Just the slide show at the reunion and then...nothing."

"Oh my God." You tug the sheets off of the bed, barely letting Marcus keep himself decent while you jump up. "No, there's no way. I mean, we just–" You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying not to freak out. "It's got to be some kind of joke." You remember Susan Combs, now Susan Ramey, talking about how the two of you were single, that you should rekindle the spark. Your eyes meeting Marcus's embarrassed gaze as the two of you stood awkwardly between her. "It's a joke." You tell him firmly, trying to convince yourself of it more than anything. How do you marry someone you haven't seen in nineteen years since he broke up with you when he met the woman he would marry his freshman year in college?

"Definitely." Marcus agrees. It had to be a joke. The thing that definitely wasn't a joke was the strong interest his cock had in the fact that one of the most gorgeous women he'd ever known in his life was standing in front of him wearing only a sheet. Not the time, he thinks to himself sternly. "There's...uh, there's some kind of brunch or something today, right?" He vaguely remembers it on the itinerary for their high school reunion, a chance for everybody to bemoan their hangovers together and say goodbye before people started catching their flights home. "I'm sure whoever's idea this was will be there to lord it over us." He hopes that, anyway. Hopes that it was some dumb joke from one of the other drama club guys or somebody who thought it would be funny to embarrass the hell out of the leader of the Heroics.

He looks around, not quite sure where to begin. "Do you...are my clothes over there?"

You look around and find his clothes mixed with yours on the floor, obviously stripped off together. You ignore that and lean down, tossing him his pants and not noticing that your panties are stuck in one of the pants legs where they had been dragged off your body. "I–fuck, I need a shower." You look at the clock and your eyes widen. "You do too." You hiss, noticing you don't have much time. "We can, I guess we are going to have to share a bathroom." You bite your lip, and try to suppress interest in seeing him as a fully grown man instead of a nineteen-year-old boy.

Marcus blanches for a second, wondering if you mean showering together, but he convinces himself that you can't possibly. This whole thing is too insane to really understand and what he needs most in the world is to wash up and brush his teeth. As much as his body might be interested in finding out how well you've grown up, that would be completely inappropriate given the circumstances. "You take the shower," he offers, ever the gentleman. "I can just wash up quickly and brush my teeth. Stale beer isn't a great taste."

Your face burns, a flash of him looking up at you from in between your legs pops into your mind. “No– uh, there is a shower and a tub, you take the shower and I’ll– we’re both adults and it’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before.” You reason. You hate how flustered you are, how intensely you just want to go back to sleep and pretend this is just a dream. “Or do whatever.” You add, looking towards the other door. “The sooner we figure out this is a joke, the sooner we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Right.” He wiggles into his boxers, stuck inside his pants in a way that said they were definitely pulled off together, under the covers and slips out of the bed to head toward the shower. You’re right, of course. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen each other naked, even before whatever happened last night. “S’dumb,” he mumbles. “Somebody decided it would be funny to put rings on us?” Pulling open the bathroom door revealed that this was your hotel room - bottles of sweet smelling soap and shampoo alongside a few bits of makeup and your deodorant and a hairbrush. Looks like he’ll be doing a walk of shame this morning.

Turning on the water for the shower, he turns shy again. You’re right. You’ve seen him naked. There’s no reason to hide from you. But that doesn’t stop him from turning away from you to take off his boxers before drawing back the shower curtain to hop in. He could live with you seeing his bare ass. He didn’t want you knowing he was sporting a semi from the faint memory of having his lips wrapped around your nipples a few hours ago.

You follow him into the bathroom, the sheet from the bed firmly anchored under your arm. Sighing when he closes the curtain behind him. Marcus Moreno. You lean over and turn on the water to the tub and plug the drain. You could admit to yourself that you hoped to catch his eye, if nothing but to show him exactly what he could have had if he hadn’t dumped you. Petty, you know, but still with the vindictiveness of someone scorned.

Not that he had been mean to you about it. No, Marcus had been distraught, admitting that he was falling for the girl in his Psych class when he had come home for fall break. The one that he would go on to marry and have his daughter with. From what you had heard, he mourned for a long time following the accident that had taken her from her family. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, he had just found the love of his life, and it wasn’t you.

Marcus groans under the hot water of the shower, leaning his forehead on the cool tile to try to ease the headache that was still splitting his skull in half. What a stupid ass situation. He’d been so excited to see you last night, still with that twinge of guilt but excited nonetheless. He’d started seeing your name in magazines here and there, your career really taking off, and he’d wanted to hear all about it from you instead of via a reporter. He’d kept his face still when you mentioned your divorce in passing. Told you a little about Missy and been grateful when you didn’t get starry eyed about him being a Heroic. His mother’s instinct to send him to a regular school had been a good one.

It happened by accident. When he turned to shove his lathered-up hair under the shower head, he’d caught the outline of your body lying back in the tub and choked on his reaction. God you’re gorgeous. Even more than you had been back then. Vision a little blurry without his glasses, he can still make out the rise of your breasts above the water and admire the line of your leg sticking out above the tub when you have started to wash up. Marcus’s throat runs dry and he wills himself to keep control. The shower curtain obviously let shadows through, and he doesn’t want to be disrespectful. He’d loved you once - so much - and doesn’t want you to think he’d grown up to be a creep, staring at you in the bath.

You try to clean up quickly, but the hot water eases the pain. Closing your eyes and trying to not listen to the sounds of Marcus in his shower. It was so surreal, being here in this situation. You couldn't deny that you had thought about him over the years. He had been your first love, honestly the first man that you thought you were going to marry, although life had other plans. The entire class had thought so too, yours and Marcus's picture flashed up on the screen together: the two of you at prom together. You both had been voted most likely to get married. Something that you had both awkwardly laughed over, and you had ordered another drink.

“I’m – uh, I’m done.” He hates the way his voice waivers, but he had no goddamn idea how to handle this. He shuts off the water and reaches blindly out to the shelf beside it where he’d seen towels to wrap one around his waist. He draws the curtain back slowly, giving you fair warning to cover up, and swallows down the urge to jam his glasses onto his face and get a decent look at you. You aren’t... together. Whatever had happened, it was the product of drinking and a potentially bad joke.

"Okay." You stand and reach for your own towel, stepping out onto the mat and securing it around your body before you turn to the curtain. "You can– I'm decent." You offer, not bothering to worry about the water that is dripping down your legs. "I'll go into the bedroom to get dressed." You tell him. "You can– fuck it, use my toothbrush. It's not like we didn't kiss." You offer before fleeing the room so you don't do something stupid, like drop your towel and see how he reacts.

It only takes a few minutes to get ready, and Marcus is in his day-old clothes opening the door for you when you decide it’s time to head downstairs. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to face your former classmates, but he needs to know what happened. In the elevator, he discovers he’s nervously spinning the ring on his hand and looks down at yours again, seeing an expensive-looking wedding set, engagement ring and wedding band that lock together into an impressive piece of jewelry on your finger. It was the sort of thing he wanted to get you, back then. Dreamed of making his money young and being able to give you the world. Things changed when he’d met Missy’s mother, and he’d hated himself for hurting you even though he was so happy. “It’s nice,” he says, breaking the silence. “The rings. They’re...beautiful, actually.”

You jump, surprised that he had mentioned it before you look down at your hand. "It is." You admit, admiring it for a moment before your eyes find his. Looking away just as quickly. "Hopefully I– you, hopefully you can get your money back if you paid for it." You tell him quietly, knowing that if this was not a joke, it was definitely something he viewed as a mistake. "They look expensive."

He shrugs, looking down at his own ring. “Keep it.” He smiles sheepishly. “I gave it to you, I guess? So that makes it yours.” Over the last few years he had wondered what life would be like if he had stayed with you: if he’d still have Missy and if you’d get that cat you’d always wanted. If you still loved the snow. “You can remember what happened afterward, even if we can’t remember last night.”

You sigh, looking over at the man you are wondering if you had married in a drunken frenzy last night. You bite your lip, another flashback of last night coming to you. Riding him and having him kiss up your chest before he pulls your nipple into his mouth. You shake your head, banishing the memory just as the elevator arrives on the ground floor where the brunch was located. "No, I can't. You didn't want to marry me then, and you didn't want to marry me now." You tell him before you step out of the elevator and start walking off, not looking back.

“Shit.” He rushes after you, wanting to soothe your obvious and understandable irritation, but you have strode into the brunch room with your head held high. Strong as iron, just like you’d always been. When the crowd of your classmates sees you come into view there is an explosion of whooping and hollering, and just as much applause. His old friend Tim claps him on the back while he laughs.

Your heart plummets at the clapping and cheers. It's not a joke. You married Marcus last night. Susan rushes over to you, enveloping you in a tight hug and squealing loud enough that it hurts your ears over the rest of the noise. "Oh my God! I can't believe it!" She prattles, pulling away and grabbing your hand to gush over the ring. "I take full credit of course! It was all my idea and look!" She turns and points to the large screen where the projector is rolling and you gasp. There is video of you and Marcus, standing in a chapel in front of, of all things, an Elvis impersonator. Great, not only had you drunkenly gotten married to a man you hadn't seen in nearly twenty years, but you had gotten married by Elvis in Las Vegas. One big walking cliche.

“Oh my god...” Marcus feels his jaw hit the floor and his heart starts pounding, a stark reminder of the flash of a memory he has of being heart-poundingly excited standing in front of you in that ridiculous chapel. Had this really happened? He scrubs one hand down his face as his other unconsciously moves to hover over the small of your back, protective but not touching. You are in this together, after all.

“I guess...it happened...” he breathes, right next to you. He can’t believe these assholes took video of it, but he supposes at least now you could know what actually happened.

On screen, Marcus watches himself grin at you and you grin back. You look happy. Excited even. You must have been so damn drunk – you had been so angry with him for so long after he broke up with you and he didn’t blame you for it. He could remember the heartbroken look on your face as you had sternly asked him to leave your house, choking back tears. It was so different from how you looked on that video. Up there, you looked as happy as the day he’d asked you out.

You school your face into one that everyone else would believe is happy. Wanting to look away from the video, instead you watch, fascinated as you and Marcus giddily exchange vows, unable to keep from kissing each other between vows like saps. "A toast to the happy couple!" You groan quietly and your stomach rolls at the thought of alcohol as flutes of champagne are brought over to you and Marcus. Unable to do more than accept them, you turn and face the man who was now apparently your husband.

“Hair of the dog,” Marcus whispers, trying for a reassuring smile. He tries not to throw up as soon as the champagne hits his throat, but he’s determined not to embarrass you any further by looking as mortified as he feels. Watching himself kiss you, he can distinctly remember the perfect way your lips had wrapped around his cock, tongue teasing the veins as you looked up at him with big, innocent eyes.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” He asks in your ear, glancing over at an alcove nearby.

You finish the champagne despite it sloshing in your stomach and threatening to come up, then nod and hand your glass off to someone to follow him off to a secluded area. You swallow back some bile, hating that phrase. Remembering how he had resisted kissing you so many years ago and asked that same question before he broke up with you. "Yeah?" You ask, tensing for bad news and wrapping your arms around yourself protectively.

“I’m starting to...” Marcus clears his throat, that glass of champagne not having helped at all. Hair of the dog his ass. “I’m starting to remember things.” He searches your face for a reaction but gets none. You look like a deer in headlights. “Um,” he exhales, eyes pinching closed for a second before opening again. He feels so guilty. Like he shouldn’t have these memories, despite the fact that you were the first person he did absolutely anything sexual with. “The sex.” He forces himself to say it. “Specifically, I’m starting to remember us having sex.”

You huff. "Yes, I'm fully aware we had sex, Marcus." You roll your eyes. "I'm the one that woke up with cum crusted on the inside of my thighs." Marcus flushes and his eyes dart down to your thighs. You were starting to get flashbacks of it as well, but it seems like he is remembering more than you did. "What's your–" You break off, your tone hostile and you don't want to take your mistakes out on him. "Okay, do you remember something you think I should know?"

“I know you’re mad,” Marcus’s head drops to his chest and he sighs. “We did something stupid and you have every right to be mad. But,” he glances up, hoping your eyes aren’t burning a hole in his head. “I made the first move, so...this is on me.” He can remember it clearly now. The two of you tipsy, having a fairly serious discussion about what happened back then, and he had kissed you. Apologized for hurting you. Told you how much he had been thinking about you lately, with the reunion coming up it had super charged his memories of you. “I kissed you first. And I’m pretty sure I was the first one to get clothes off. And I’m definitely the one who...went down on the other one first.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously. “So if you’re going to be mad about anything.” He shrugs. Now that he can remember it, that kiss felt amazing. That first press of your lips together after nineteen years and the way you had moaned against him when he opened his mouth for you to lick inside. “Be mad at me, I guess.” He can’t help himself, his eyes flick up to your lips, wavering there before looking back up at you. Now that he can remember it, he’s aching to do it again.

"I'm not...mad, I'm disappointed." You admit, looking away from him. "It's not like I hadn't– I wanted to just..." You shrug, suddenly feeling foolish. "I wanted to show you up, prove that you had missed out on something great. And now this is something that is going to cause you embarrassment." You close your eyes and sway slightly, your cunt clenching when you remember his tongue against your clit, moaning into you as he eagerly ate you out. "Stupid, huh? To still be petty about being dumped for the one you were supposed to be with." You swallow, meeting his gaze again and not being able to tell what he was thinking. "I'm sorry. I'll – I'll just go."

“Don’t!” He reaches out to grab your arm as soon as you turn, not too hard but enough to pull you back to him. “You did show me what I missed. And...from what I can remember, it was great.” You’re standing so close to him that he feels like he’s breathing down your neck and he has no idea if you’re okay with it or not, even though it’s stirring his cock back to life. “I don’t regret the years I had with Missy’s mother. She was a wonderful woman, and I loved her. If I hadn’t had her, I wouldn’t have Missy, but,” he huffs a sigh, his hand slipping up your arm to drag his knuckles down your cheek gently. “I loved you, too. I’m not embarrassed that we had sex. Please don’t think that, okay? I’m embarrassed that this is the way it happened. You deserve better.” He squeezes his eyes closed again, gearing himself up for you to snap at him again. “And, for the record? Everyone knows disappointed is worse than mad.”

You can't help but chuckle at that, relaxing at his speech. You didn't blame him, not really. The rejection had been heartbreaking at the time, but you also wouldn't have the career you have if you had stayed with Marcus. You would have followed his career, let it overshadow what you wanted to do with your life. "I guess we need to talk about this somewhere a little more private about all this." You look around and bite your lip. "Decide what we are going to do."

Marcus nods, glad you haven’t screamed at him or run away. “Do you want to placate our gleeful classmates and eat first?” He asks, not wanting to pressure you into anything. He’d gladly leave now if you wanted but he’d leave it up to you. “It might be helpful to hear more of what happened.”

You can agree with that. "It might help the hangover too." You acknowledge, looking towards the buffet. "Do you want to go grab a plate?" You ask, wanting to see if he wanted to eat with you or would prefer to separate and learn as much as he could on his own.

He glances around the room taking stock of everyone’s reactions and finds half the room trying very badly to pretend they’re not staring at the happy couple. “Go talk to Susan,” he suggests, knowing how your old friend loves to talk her head off. “I’ll see if Tim is feeling chatty.” He swallows, hard, and finds your eyes. “Better keep up appearances?” It’s selfish, using the curious eyes as an excuse to kiss you again, but Marcus Moreno is so rarely a selfish man that he’s willing to see if you’re okay with it.

You nod, knowing that everyone in the room is trying to discreetly look towards you. "Okay." You breathe out, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he steps closer to you, his hand coming up to grip your waist. Your heart is pounding and you curl your hand around his neck as he leans in, his tongue coming out to swipe on his lower lip. "Kiss me, Marcus."

That’s all he has to hear. Holding back a groan, he tugs you closer and slots his lips against yours. It’s probably only for a second, but it feels like hours. The kind of kiss that makes him tingle. Your lips are as soft and warm as they were last night, but this time there’s no alcohol and the taste is all you with a touch of toothpaste. That groan he was holding back breaks free and he pulls back, embarrassed.

You sigh out, wishing he had kissed you for longer, but it was for show. Trying to convince the roomful of your former classmates that it hadn't been a drunken mistake when you had gotten married last night. You drop your hand from his neck and give him a small smile that you don't feel. "Good luck finding out what we did." You whisper and step to the side and walk off towards Susan.

Marcus watches you go, eyes lingering on your ass just a little too long, but he figures it’s okay to check out the woman who was technically his wife. God, what a mess. At this point, he had to admit to himself that he’d come here for you. No other reason and no other motive. He wanted to see you again and this was the only way how. How was he going to explain this to Missy? Hey here’s you new stepmom, we got drunk and Elvis sang Burnin Love to us after our vows. Ugh. He headed back to Tim and his other old friends, hoping they could shed some light on the events leading up to the insane cliche of a Vegas wedding.

“Awwww!” Susan is giggling when you walk back towards her, clapping her hands a little and looking at you with dreamy eyes. “You guys have always been so cute!”

"Thanks." You give her a smile and try to ignore the way you feel Marcus's eyes on you.

"He's watching you, you know." Susan says with a happy grin, making you look back to find his dark eyes on you. Giving you an encouraging smile before he looks over at the guys when someone comes up to him and slaps him on the back, a grin flashing across his face. "Tell me," Susan leans in conspiratorially, "was it as good as you remembered? Or was it even better?" She sighs, obviously in love with the idea of your fairy tale romance. "He's definitely a man and not a boy anymore." You hum and make a non-committal sound that she takes as playing it close to your chest.

******

“Come on, Romeo,” Tim is laughing and grinning, pulling Marcus along to join their other drama club friends in the buffet line. “Tear your eyes away from your bride for 30 seconds and come fuel up. From what I heard, you’re going to need your strength.”

Marcus blanches. “What d’ya’mean?” He mumbles, shoving a piece of toast in his face so he can’t say too much.

“Dude my room is right next to hers,” Tim shoots him a sly grin. “You guys are better than porn.”

“Uh...thanks?” What the hell does Marcus even say to that? “Please tell me you didn’t jack off to me having sex?” His eyes are absolutely pleading. He’s very glad to hear that you enjoyed yourself, but he doesn’t want anyone to say one single word against you for something you clearly regret. He wishes he didn’t have this knot in his stomach. Not the one from his hangover, but the one from kissing you just now.

“I would never do that.” Tim tells him solemnly before busting out a grin. “I was too busy editing your wedding video for today. Like you asked.”

******

"From what Tim said, you were very vocal."

You honestly wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You bite your lip, still aching pleasantly from whatever had made you so vocal last night. "So why don't you tell me what everyone said when we decided to go to the chapel."

That makes Susan change topics. She grins and nods. "Oh, everyone was just ecstatic. All talking about how touchy the two of you were. And when Marcus kissed you? All the girls that were jealous of you having him in high school were green with envy." She giggles and leans in to whisper, "Some of them didn't think it was real, just hype for the reunion, but I could see his heart in his eyes when he looks at you." She confides.

You flush, your cheeks burning, and you wish that were true. You had never exactly gotten over Marcus, even after you moved on and married your now ex-husband. "Well, the feeling was mutual." You admit, telling yourself it was just to keep up appearances.

******

“Thanks for that.” Marcus finds that he really means it, because it’s helping both of you to piece together the night - and maybe also a little bit because watching himself look at you like that was eating at his armor. The armor he had carefully constructed after his wife had died and he had promised himself that no other woman would come into Missy’s life until he was absolutely certain about her. And he had never been certain about any of the small number of women he’d dated in the last five years. But you? He mechanically fills up his plate with enough food to banish his hangover and nods his head along with whatever Tim was saying.

“What did she think of the ring?” He asks, and Marcus tunes back in. Tim huffs at his quizzical look and chuckles. “You were so serious about engraving those things, I figured she would at least say she liked it.”

Marcus immediately slips his ring off his finger and finds a rose flanked by both of your first initials carefully engraved inside. His chest clenched. You had played Romeo and Juliet together in high school – the rose in his ring being just like the ones he used to give you before rehearsal.

******

Your head is pounding and Susan's chatter isn't helping, but you follow behind her and fill up your plate with things that won't make your stomach revolt. "And then that engraving on your rings? That was so sweet and the fact that Marcus insisted on it made me swoon."

Your eyes widen and when you sit down you slip off your rings to find your initials and a rose engraved on the inside of the band. "Oh." Your heart melts but the realistic side of you hates to see it. It means the rings can't be returned. You hope that you had paid for your rings yourself so he isn't out the money.

******

“Uh, yeah,” Marcus manages to nod, forcing a smile that he hopes is convincing. “She really liked it.” Ready for a tornado to come and swallow him whole, Marcus shoves his hand in his pocket as the guys head to a table together, finding his cell phone open to a text string with his daughter:

‘Missy, I know I should have talked to you first. I should have told you about her, and how she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved besides your mother.’

‘There’s nobody else I want in our lives and even your abuela liked her, so you know she’s a keeper.’

‘Miss, I’m not trying to replace your mom. I just hope you’re okay with this. I love her, and I hope you will too.’

Oh god. Marcus swallows the rising dread threatening to make him sick all over again. What have I done?

******

You look over at Marcus, frowning when you see him looking at his phone with a distraught look on his face. You wondered what has him looking like he's seen a ghost. You think about going over there, but you aren't really his wife.

"Hey everybody!" Your head turns to the front of the room where the projector is going. "We are about to officially show the wedding video of our own newest happy couple. Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Moreno! Come on guys, stand up and come up here!" You want to crawl into a hole when everyone starts clapping again and Susan urges you up.

Catching your eye from a few tables away, Marcus makes his way over to you with an uneasy gait. The texts back from Missy had been more confused than anything else and he wasn’t looking forward to explaining what had happened. Reaching your seat, he offers you his hand to hold and presses an apologetic kiss to the back of it when you accept the gesture. The room “awwe”s at the sweet gesture, mistaking it for romantic.

"Are you okay?" You murmur quietly as the two of you make your way to the front of the room. Marcus squeezes your hand gently but doesn’t answer, making your stomach flip from nerves and from the way his hand feels entangled with yours. When you come up to the front, the former class president, John Walker, grins at both of you.

"So in high school they were voted most likely to get married." The picture of the two of you wrapped around each other was flashed up on the screen again like it had throughout the brunch. Your smile doesn't falter but your eye twitches, your grip on Marcus's hand loosening. "It's taken twenty years, but last night they made that a reality! And thanks to Tim Dalton, we have the wedding video for everyone to enjoy!"

When the footage starts rolling it's of the whole reunion, lots of couples slow dancing on the hotel ballroom's dance floor to the Pretender's "I'll Stand by You". The camera zooms in on Marcus with his arms around you, the two of you with hearts in your eyes. The song continues as Marcus watches himself lean in to kiss you, and he smiles a little now at the memory. On the screen, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, both of you losing the rhythm of the music as you get caught up in the kiss. He remembers it distinctly now, that moment. He leans down a little and nudges your shoulder before whispering in your ear: "I remember that...you, um...you had just told me you missed me. And I said I missed you too."

You vaguely remember that, the haze of alcohol not having taken hold quite yet. "You...you said that you almost asked your information director for my number." Your brow furrows as you remember that detail. "You didn't want to contact me through the reunion app." There was an app that was like a general chat room for the entire class. It was chaotic at best and completely visible to everyone. "Or am I imagining that?"

He shakes his head gently, head still bent next to your ear. "No. You didn't imagine that." He swallows, dry mouth and the slight anxiety of memories coming back mixing together. "I really only came here to see you, anyway. I didn't figure the whole class needed to know that, so...I was going to call you and see if you were even coming." Heat creeps up Marcus's cheeks. "Clearly, I chickened out."

You can't help but grin at that. "But obviously it worked out." You point out, liking the way that his eyes lighten when they crinkle in a matching grin. God he’s still as handsome as the day you had first held his hand. Or the last day he had been close to you. Maybe more so. He had aged like fine wine. Your attention is captured when you see the video change, obviously later in the night, the two of you a little more tipsy.

Marcus reluctantly looks away from you, turning his eyes up again to watch the two of you on screen – you sitting in his lap with your arms around him, gently peppering his cheeks and neck with kisses. The audio crackles a little, tuning in to what the two of you are saying. "So fucking gorgeous," he hears himself saying to you, before he actually giggles a little at you planting a kiss on a spot where he's ticklish. He has to agree with his tipsy self – you look amazing.

Catcalls come over the video, shouts from other classmates for you to get a room. Until Susan comes into view. "No, they need to just get married! We all know they belong together."

You fluster tipsily, laughing and kissing Marcus. "You should make an honest woman out of me." You coo, batting your eyelashes at him playfully. Oh God, you had encouraged it, you had practically begged Marcus to marry you. Embarrassment floods your body even as Marcus eagerly nods on the video.

The catcalls turn to cheers as Marcus watches himself lift you off his lap and slip off his chair, down on one knee. Wide-eyed, he grips your hand tighter as he watches himself propose to you. Tipsy as he was he trips over his words a little, but it is absolutely clear that he was not coerced or forced in any way. And neither were you. Tipsy? Yes. Encouraged by your classmates? Absolutely. But this was two adults who seemed to be fully aware of what they were doing.

You watch the proposal and the way that you immediately nod and crush your lips to his. Only pulling away to shout to everyone around you that you were getting married. "Oh my God." You whine, only where Marcus can hear you while everyone else in the room releases 'awwwwe's and laughs at how excited the two of you are in the video. "I don't think you can blame yourself for this." You whisper to Marcus.

"We're in this together." He moves his hand from holding yours to wrapping his whole arm around your shoulders supportively. The video morphs again - this part clearly filmed on someone's phone as you and Susan are poking through white dresses in a shop clearly meant for this exact purpose. Susan grabs a little veil off a shelf and plops it on your head, telling you to "Say something to Marcus!" while she points at the phone. They were obviously already planning on putting this video together.

"Marcus, I love you so much." You gush to the camera, making a kissing face to it before you burst into giggles. Susan squeals and says she's found the perfect dress, recapturing your attention.

The video cuts to Marcus searching for suits with Tim. "I can just wear this." He whines, looking down at the outfit he was wearing. Your eyes widen, realizing the suit he was wearing now wasn't what he had come to the reunion in.

"No man, you can't get married in that. Tell your lady love something." Tim says, encouraging Marcus to look over at the camera.

“I love you, hermosa.” Marcus says on the video, flustering and grinning. “I’m so glad you’re here and I’m here and that you said yes.”

Beside you, Marcus looks down at his suit and squeezes his eyes closed. How did he not realize that he wasn’t wearing the same one he came in? The pile of clothes on your hotel room from earlier comes back into his mind and he now realizes there was a white dress tossed in one corner of the room.

The video cuts to the chapel, the two of you giggling and Marcus won't even let you go long enough to walk down the aisle traditionally. Loudly telling Elvis that he wasn't letting you go, it had been too long since he had last held you. That makes you bite your lip, swallowing hard when he leans in and kisses you again on screen.

The vows are surprisingly heartfelt, for how drunk you both are at that point. He’s pulling you in for kisses after every sentence or two, telling Elvis that he wouldn’t be able to keep from kissing you either if he were him. When Elvis finally proclaims you man and wife, Marcus watches himself pick you up bridal style and carry you back down the aisle, shouting at everyone not to wait up. The sound of you giggling in his arms is one that brings him back – and he realizes he’s been holding you tighter while your haphazard wedding ceremony plays out on screen.

You fluster, hearing the comments that the party that had come with you are saying. You bite your lip and your face feels like it's on fire when they start making bets on how long before you announce a baby. Your eyes dart over to Marcus's and you see his own widen behind his glasses, the thought of birth control obviously one that had just hit him. You take mercy on him, not wanting him to panic too hard. You lean in to him. "I'm protected." You whisper, hoping to put his mind at ease.

Marcus deflates a little at your assurance, ashamed that he hadn’t thought of that himself. The video ends with Susan and Tim waving your marriage certificate in front of the camera and the room is filled with the sound of flatware clicking against glasses. “Kiss!” Someone in the back of the room spots, and within seconds everyone has joined in.

You lift a brow and look at him in question. It wasn't like you hadn't kissed before. This time you were a little more eager, wishing that you knew what he was thinking when he searches your face before nodding. His hand cups your cheek, and you tilt your head as his mouth slants across yours. Firm and much deeper than the one he had put on you earlier, making you whimper into his mouth and melt against him.

Kissing you had a habit of making the world float away. Marcus had kept himself firmly on the ground in the alcove earlier, but this time you were pressed against him and sighing open to let him in and he melted along with you – much to the glee of the entire ballroom. This time when you parted it was reluctantly and Marcus keeps his eyes on yours, knowing how much softer he looks and feels. Did you actually mean even the smallest bit of what you had said last night? Did you still love him even a little bit or was it the alcohol and horniness talking? Make an honest woman out of me, you had said on that video. He would have, if he hadn’t met Missy’s mother. You were the only two women he’d ever loved. And right now the clenching in his heart told him he might have meant it when he said he loved you. Or at least, he was falling back in love with you.

You tuck your head under his chin, shy from how much you had let yourself slip into the kiss. Feeling like it had been real while he was kissing you. Your heart aches, wishing that everything that had been said in that video had been real, but you couldn't be sure. You sigh quietly when his arms tighten around you as the rest of the room finally quiets down. "Now lovebirds, as a gift to you, we have booked you two a few extra days here and changed your flights. So you can enjoy a proper honeymoon." John announces, making your eyes widen. "Some of us have bets on when there will be another announcement." He chuckles.

“It’s okay,” Marcus whispers to you. His arms squeeze you close and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “It gives us time to figure this out.” Figure it out. Marcus can feel how wrong the words came out, but he doesn’t know what to say to fix it. You would want out of all of this as soon as possible, but since there were probably twice as many divorce lawyers in Vegas as there were chapels, he was sure you’d be out of the woods in no time. He would apologize profusely to Missy and nurse a severely sad heart at home. He had never wanted to do anything to hurt you and now he’d done it twice – breaking up with you and somehow getting you into a marriage that you’d only agreed to because you were drunk.

From the side of the little stage, Tim hands him a room key with a wink. “And there’s a surprise waiting for you there!” He announces to the room. Your eyes widen, half afraid of what kind of surprise there is.

“Well, I guess that’s our queue to leave.” Marcus says playfully, taking your hand again and making everyone laugh. He leans into the microphone and tells the crowd: “Thank you, this will definitely be a reunion we will never forget.” Talk about the understatement of the year. And severely ironic.

John shoos you off the stage. “We wish you both the best of luck and get out of here! Go make babies!” He jokes, making you fluster and you can see Marcus’s ears burning.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Moreno #Marcus Moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #Marcus Moreno x female read #Marcus Moreno x f!reader #high school sweethearts #one that got away #what happens in vegas stays in vegas #We Can Be Heroes

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itslenagain · 2 months

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My thoughts on episodes 1-3 of Netflix ATLA (SPOILERS):

1. Commander Zhao has middle-aged white guy manager energy. I feel like this man is about to lead me in a team-building exercise

2. Aang having his origin story changed irks me! He ran away impulsively in the original show and got stuck in the ice. In this version, he fully monologs to Appa about his fears, but then just leaves for a joyride and gets stuck. It takes away from the significance of Aang leaving in the first place. When Kyoshi berates him for running away, it doesn't feel right because in this version, he didn't really run - he just got stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time

3. The Zuko that stood on an iceberg during a full Moon and challenged Katara to battle would be absolutely enraged at the Zuko that ran from the conflict in Omashu

4. Also, the fact that Zuko has not mentioned honor yet? What the fuck?

5. Seriously, Commander Zhao has a LinkedIn. He's got great networking skills

6. I miss aggro Katara. This version is way more subdued (though we do get a sibling fight in episode 3) and somehow listening to Aang's weird circular philosophy helps her learn how to waterbend and I don't get it

7. Seeing Aang be joyful is a nice change from the movie that shall not be mentioned

8. If Gram-Gram putting the waterbending scroll in Katara's bag replaces the storyline where Katara says fuck cultural looting and steals one I will scream

9. It's interesting to see Azula so early in the story, but I'm bummed we missed out on the whole blackmail thing with her & Ty Lee

10. Do you think Commander Zhao pays his employees a fair wage? Do you think they have health insurance? 401k matching? Vacation time? Sick days? What kind of benefits does his company offer?

11. This version of Sokka is definitely not silly enough

12. I feel robbed that Aang got to transform into a magical girl but we didn't get a magical girl transformation sequence

13. Also, we were robbed of Sokka crossdressing as a Kyoshi warrior and they are so rude for that

14. The graphic murder of the Airbenders felt. Weird? Wrong? I don't think we needed to see that. The impact it had when Aang arrived at the temple to find all of them gone in the original show felt heavier than in this version. We saw what happened, we know they're all dead. As a kid watching ATLA the first time, I remember feeling hopeful for Aang that maybe he wasn't really the last one. We don't get to feel that with this version

15. They did not understand Uncle Iroh at all. His character is so weird. Maybe it gets better???

16. The pacing is weird but maybe that gets better too???

17. I have never related more than when Ozai just burned that Earth nation dude who was about to start monologing, please shut up in my presence

18. Apparently everywhere has names?? Who decided on these names?

19. As a lesbian I also get horny on main immediately for girls who could definitely kick my ass, Sokka was so real for that

20. Overall I think they lean into the idea that the audience for this show is primarily older than the audience for the original (they're not totally wrong!) but I worry about it losing some of the messaging along the way. Part of the beauty of the original ATLA show was tackling these big, complex issues in a way that both kids and adults could relate to and understand. Anyone who knows me knows I also love Bluey for this, along with a few other shows that do it well. Media like ATLA that tackles the ideas of colonization, genocide, war, and so many other important issues is crucial! I hope that these topics are handled just as well as they were in the original series.

Am I going to watch the whole thing? Probably, yeah. Will I enjoy it? I hope so! It's not terrible, but it's also hard to do a show that has so much nostalgia attached to it in a way that will please all viewers.

If you haven't watched it, I think it's worth a shot. Just don't expect it to be an exact retelling of the original story.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #atla live action #netflix atla #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #commander zhao

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80s4life · 11 months

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Together At Last”

Word Count: 3,971

Status: Requested!

Ask: Can I have Chris Chambers x reader with the prompt "You're different and I like that"

@: @micheleamidalajedi

A/N: I absolutely LOVED this request because I was able to put myself into the Reader and prove that not everyone is the same, female, male, or nonbinary, or all of the girlypops!

Relationship: Chris Chambers x Merrill!Reader

Fandom: Stand By Me 1986

Summary: It’s been 5 years since the disappearance and eventual death of Ray Brower, and you’re each reaching graduation. However, another adventure arises and brings all 5 of you back to the woods to find Teddy’s dog. The problem? Almost all of you have either grown apart or split completely, and old feelings seem to resurface with unresolved conclusions. What could go wrong?

Warnings: mutual pining, adventure, confessions, AGED UP!, friends to enemies to lovers, some angst, nostalgia, lost friendships, gained friendships, Teddy is a brother figure to Reader, gun, unintentional intent to kill someone, strong language, Reader is Ace Merrill’s sibling,

{gif is not mine, credits go to @awidevastdominion}

Your landline rings, deriving you of your thoughts and current intensity studying for finals. Groaning, you shrug out of your seat at the kitchen table begrudgingly, answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Y/N? ‘S that you?” a familiar voice, deepened with maturity and hormones asks on the other side.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Nice to know you haven’t changed,” you can hear the voice taunt annoyingly.

“It’s been years since I’ve talked to you, did you expect a ‘Hey, what’s up’?”

“I would have preferred that, yes, but no. This is serious, and I really need you on board with me this time.”

“This better not be one of your schemes, Teddy, I’m not up for anything right now,” you sigh, “I’m up to my neck with textbooks and shit with studying for the finals and stuff. Dad’s been on my ass about getting into a college since I’ve been able to hold a B+ to A average.”

“Damn. Sorry to say I can’t relate?”

You giggle, sighing as you’ve missed him. You couldn’t quite tell what happened to cause you to separate, but as if you had just blinked, everyone was gone and you were left to yourself and school. “Alright Teddy, what bullshit are we pulling now?”

“Glad you asked!” he all but yells in happiness, “My dog went missing a few days ago and I haven’t been able to find him all over town. I know this sounds childish, but I swear, I’ve walked the whole town everyday at dawn before school and haven’t been able to find him.”

“So, you’re guessing he’s in the woods?” you groan, remembering the haunting history you’ve witnessed first hand in said territory.

There’s a long pause before he lets out a low, “...Yes...”

“What did the others say?”

“What makes you think I asked them?” he tries to sound as if he’s not that easy to read; a “changed man.”

“Because I still know you, or some of you. There’s no way this is going to be a one night thing and we need more sets of dependable eyes.”

“Well, now you’re making me sound smart.”

You giggle, “I’m not gonna keep beating around the bush Teddy, I’m in as long as the others are?”

“Yes!” he shrieks.

...

A few days later, as instructed by Teddy, you carry your sleeping bag, flask of water, some snacks, and money (something you all collectively forgot last time) to the dumpsters behind the town’s cafe. Trudging around the corner, your breath catches in your throat as you lay eyes on the back of three familiar heads and a face, each people you thought you have grown so far apart from.

“Y/N!” the voice of the face coming from Teddy.

You nod silently, leaning against the brick building as you keep your distance.

The three boys that are now men, turn around to take you in, eyes wide.

You wave nervously, age and distance having changed all of you and making you feel as if you don’t know these people.

Teddy still had his familiar square-shaped, black glasses, but his hair is cut to fit the army’s conduct, shaved short on the sides around the back, the top of his head a bit longer. There was just enough hair for Teddy to comb it back with gel just as he had as a preteen - before you all turned away to seek your own lives. He grew a bit taller, standing at 5′5″, but not by much. You giggle internally.

To the far left, you see Gordie and your heart breaks a little. He’s still lean in build, but he’s grown to be tall and confident, around 5′11″ - 6′0.” To you, he hasn’t changed a bit, except personality. He still had his longer hair, possibly longer than you remember it, with the same hairstyle and familiar baby face, though slightly aged.

Next was Vern, and he was so big now. He managed to drop the weight, a lean build of muscle standing above 6′0″ and carrying his dopey grin with longer hair - a similar style to Gordie’s, though unintentionally. You smile at him. He’s still a sweetheart, but more like a big, lovable Chocolate Lab now.

Lastly was Chris, and he was still as gorgeous as ever. He came to be of above average height, 5′10,″ grew his hair out longer and adorned circular glasses that framed his face perfectly. His eyes carry no emotion, a contrast to his younger self, but they’re still that luscious deep blue. He looks you up and down in silence before staring you directly in your eyes. You can feel your heart break all over again.

You didn’t realize how long you were staring at each of them before Teddy clears his throat. “Shall we?” he tries to smirk, but the tension is thick.

You hug your arms around your abdomen as you nod, plastering a smile of your face as you force yourself to stand beside the now men. Slowly, everyone starts to follow Teddy until you reach the tracks.

Some time later, as you walked on the tracks, you lagged behind. Now, with this view, you could see where everyone had changed, but not as much as you thought. Gordie and Chris got to talking amongst themselves far in front of the group, Teddy and Vern behind them. They’re all too busy catching up for them to notice your inner turmoil.

You almost want to cry. You don’t know any of them anymore. This was a fact that your younger self would’ve never expected or taken a liking to. You think of what your younger self would do, punishing yourself for what you allowed to happen.

You would’ve called them repeatedly, tried to make plans or catch up to them in passing to classes. All of this you could pride yourself on saying that you did, but then Gordie went the way his father wanted him to go, Chris becoming an athlete while trying to follow Gordie’s brains, getting into law, Teddy trying to apply and reapply to the military, and Vern taking a liking in the construction trade.

They all grew up, and though you couldn’t blame them, they slipped out of your hands far too quickly and suffered the backlash. Girls in school are bitches, and though you have friends, they aren’t like the ones before you. Even after all this time, they are still considered exactly that - friends, family even.

You went your own way, too, after giving up on them. You found an interest in engineering and found that it’s not exactly as you suspected. It wasn’t all math and physics and you deeply enjoyed the creativity and problem-solving it included. You have some fond classmates there, but they would never compare to these boys.

You are ripped from your thoughts as you hear the loud blaring of a train’s horn. You smirk at the memory that crosses. Calling out to Teddy, your voice is loud enough for all of the boys to hear, “Sound familiar, Teddy? We’re not gonna go diving for you on the tracks again, right?”

“Fuck off,” you can hear him giggle, jabbing Vern in the side.

All the way in the front, you can hear Gordie add, “Or have to break you and Chris up, huh?”

You giggle at the reminder. That was the time when you were all trying to figure yourselves out without guidance, restrictions, stereotypes, and parents. Teddy had a lot of trouble then.

Your smile drops as the group goes quiet again, the nostalgia dying with the connection that almost rekindled. You groan audibly - unintentionally.

The boys look back at you curiously, surprised just as much as you were.

You decide to take the initiative, “Is this what we’re going to do the whole time? Act as if we’re strangers and not speak to one another?”

“We are strangers, Y/N,” you hear Chris state with indifference.

You catch up to the group and walk between them, “There’s a reason we all came here and I know we all hoped to be together again. It doesn’t help when you don’t even try to speak to us though, does it?”

The group stops as Chris spins around on you. “Why would I? After this, we are all gonna go our separate ways and avoid each other again,” he growls and spits, “Just like last time.”

“Then, why did you come?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you and asking the question you were all wondering yourselves. “Why are we all here?” you look around at each of them.

“Because I missed you guys,” Vern pipes up, the first words he’s spoken the whole walk from town.

“We wouldn’t have missed each other if we had just kept our promises, would we?” Chris asks, frowning with his eyebrows scrunched together and arms crossed tightly over his chest. It almost resembles hatred.

And it makes you livid. “You broke your promise, too, Chris,” you vividly remember the promise you made just short of town on your way back; the promise that meant the world and more to you - it still does. “We all did, but at least I can say it wasn’t intentional. I tried to reach out to you guys, but we were all growing and changing. I can’t blame you guys, except you, Chris.”

“Me?” his voice reaches higher as the time passes by.

“Oh please, we all know you went from a street rat like us to the high priest and prince of school,” Teddy adds.

Chris scoffs, crossing his arms, “Gordie?”

“I mean, you did drop us after you got with Stephanie Wheeler,” Gordie deflects, shrinking in size as he knows the blows coming next. He adds, “The rich bitch of high school whose daddy is the principal.”

“This is bullshit, I should’ve never decided to come,” he shoots daggers at you.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t of because we all know that you’re embarrassed of even being seen with us,” Vern adds, caution to the wind.

Chris scoffs again as he takes up his bag, starting back to town.

“So, you’re just gonna leave?!” you scream as he creates distance.

“I fucking knew it!” Gordie screams, grabbing his bag as well to follow Chris on the opposite side of the tracks.

You watch with pain as each of the boys start back to town. All except Teddy, who manages to stand there with teary eyes.

“I just wanted us to enjoy the time, find my dog, and hopefully have one last high school hurrah before we are all forced apart,” he sniffles.

You look at him with matching sadness, “I-I’m sorry Teddy, I didn’t mean to act out like that. I just couldn’t stand another minute, let alone night, with no one planning on speaking to each other. It would have all been for nothing. Even if we had found your dog, we still would’ve hated each other. This is my fault, Teddy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not, Y/N, it was gonna happen eventually,” his eyes watch them go, but the look in his eye is distant - his mind far beyond where they’re heading.

“We can still look for Butch together?” you manage to smile, tears brimming your eyes.

“I don’t feel like it anymore,” you can visibly see his body deflate.

“Well, can you at least stay? If there’s still some shred of them left, I think they’ll come around again. I still want to rekindle our relationship. I’ve missed you so much, Teddy,” by the time you’re finished, fresh tears are starting to roll down your cheeks.

Teddy’s voice cracks as a tear slips down his cheek, too, opening his arms to pull you in for a hug beside him on the grass.

You smile thankfully as you lean in, sighing at the comfort and history.

“It ain’t going well with my Pops, as you’d assume. He’s still a crazy bastard, but I’m sticking with him. Just for a little longer, as long as I can.”

“Understandable. We can’t forget your ear, can we?”

“Whatever,” he smirks, “What about you?”

“Mom and Dad still fight. If they aren’t fighting, neither of them are home to ensure that they don’t have to fucking see each other. Ace is still a prick, too. I wouldn’t expect him to graduate and still stay in this bum-fuck town.”

“Guess he doesn’t want his reputation to be forgotten,” Teddy giggles.

“Guess so,” you trail off, noticing the sun starting to set and the sky change color. “You think they’re coming back?”

“No, but I can hope.”

You look up at him sadly and nod. “Wanna set up camp for the night anyway?”

He nods silently, taking up his sleeping bag and finding a soft spot to lay out in the grass.

Silently, you follow his lead, walking down the side of the tracks to the opening of the trees, laying your sleeping bag just beside the first tree, hidden under the canopy of leaves. He decides to go in a little deeper, a few feet away from you, protected by the dimmer lighting in a proactive attempt to block the harsh sun that’ll come in the morning.

Sighing, you both settle in, staring at the sky. Before you know it, your miniscule, unimportant chit chat with Teddy dies down and sleep overtakes you swiftly. There’s no dreams as you toss and turn, but your glad there’s no deeper thoughts that’ll plague you and leave you wide awake.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping until the soft snapping of twigs perk your ears, harshly throwing all of the sleep from your fogged mind and automatically putting it into defensive state.

Peaking around with your eyes, you catch a figure some ways to your left, walking away from your temporary camp. By the distance the figure has created and the direction of their walk, you can tell they were either walking through or around your huddle, no doubt near your camp regardless.

You flip onto your belly as silently as possible, hand sliding slowly to the underside of your pillow, fingers touching cold metal. You pull the gun from under you, the uncomfortable and foreign weight of it settling in your hand, bringing more unease into your heart and bones.

You lift yourself up slowly, noticing that Gordie and Vern have, in fact, returned and settled in a circle with you and Teddy. However, there is no sign of Chris, not even a bag.

You let out a slow breath to try and calm your racing nerves as you follow the figure, gun raised and aimed at the black figure. You gain on the figure silently, until your foot makes a horrible crunch as it breaks the branch beneath it. Cursing under your breath, you raise the gun in defense, both hands grasping and eyes trained.

The figure spins around, voice accusatory, “What the f-? Hey...” the voice lowers instantly, hands coming up to show they are unarmed. “Hey, Y/N, put the gun down,” the voice registers in your head as the figure emerges from the darkness and into the glow of the moon breaking through the trees.

“Chris?” you groan, lowering the gun instantly, shoulders dropping. “What the fuck were you thinking? Sneaking around in the woods? You know the way I sleep, man.”

“Knew,” he clarifies, “And, I was just going for a walk to clear my mind.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask with a creep of annoyance settling in, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers. “Why do you keep acting like you’re camping with strangers? Like you have absolutely no knowledge of who we are?”

“Because I don’t; I don’t know the people you have all become now. Even if there are slivers of the people I knew that show every now and then, they are no longer the people they were nor who they are now,” he steps closer to you, enough to reach out to you if he wanted to.

“I can’t say that we are who we were because that’s impossible, but we are still those loving people we were. I’ve noticed that Vern still carries a comb and is a little sensitive. Gordie is still quiet and finds meanings in everything. Teddy still has such and undoubted devotion to his father and his infatuation with the army. I still bother the shit out of everyone and parent them as a way of care. But you,” you pause, assessing him as the sadness settles in your voice and heart again, a cold shock coursing through your veins, “I can only see a person in front of me. You look like Chris, you still have that leaderly inclination, but besides that, everything has changed. Even your eyes have a different look to them, yet they are still that same pair I last looked at 5 years ago.”

Chris says nothing, his mask fitting into place and revealing nothing to you - it doesn’t even look like any of your words are reaching him.

“You keep acting like everyone here is out to get you, but we are simply just being ourselves. You see us as enemies because we had a falling out, but that’s natural. We changed - you changed - and you want to blame us for something that was out of our hands. We are still here for you Chris, I’ve always been here,” your voice is cracking as you look down at your feet, kicking some leaves and twigs to divert your attention somehow.

A hand reaches beneath your chin, tugging your head up to look into those sapphire irises once again. “You were never my enemy, you were my greatest fear,” Chris says, a pitiful grin pulling at his lips. “You know why I chose to become better? Why I went out with the cheerleaders, tried out for football, worked hard to get into the smart kid classes?”

“W-Why?” you look at him, pain and confusion streaking your E/C eyes like lightning in a storm.

“Because I knew that if I stayed where I was, I would never be able to give you what you wanted - never been able to give you everything you deserved. At first, I distanced myself because I thought I would never be good enough for you; that distance was what you needed and for me to get out of your sights, so that that better man would show up and lift you off your feet. But, you were insistent,” Chris giggles sadly as his mask starts to fall, his eyes showing the same pain and suffering that reflects off of yours. “I chose to blame you for the pain of losing you, so you would never look at me with those eyes again; never show me this source of genuine love that was undeserved and unfair.”

“But, you promised me that we would be together forever?” you question, a tear slipping from your eye as you stare at him with the newfound information. Pain of losing him, sadness of bringing such turmoil and insecurity to himself, suffering from the rift that could’ve never been, and regret that if you had known, this would have all been avoided as a whole.

“I know I made that promise, and I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite and idiot. It doesn’t matter how far away we’ve become, you can still manage to look at me with that undeserved care?” he mostly questions himself as his eyes search all over your face, both hands cupping your face in his hands.

Your hands go up to hold his wrists, looking at him with such longing. “You deserve the world, Chris. You always have and always will. You are too pure for the hand you were dealt, and yet you still push yourself farther above.”

His eyes round and snap to yours with confusion and disbelief, searching you for some sort of trick. “I’ve always loved you, Chris. No one has ever made me so damn pissed off or more loved with just one look or action. It doesn’t matter who I’ve used or dated to temporarily distract me, I’ve always worried and searched for you. You’ve always been in the deepest part of my brain. I-I still love you...so damn much.”

“You’ve always been different and I like that. You’re the biggest pain in my ass, but my greatest mistake. I love you, Y/N,” Chris smiles, a genuine display of delight and content as tears slide down his cheeks with the relinquishment of pain and torture. He’s waited too damn long for this. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” he smirks devilishly, eyes delving to your lips and up to your eyes before he leans in.

Your chapped lips meet his fresh, plump ones, smeared with chapstick with the taste of lemon. Your hands goes up to tangle in his long, blonde locks as his arms reach down to your hips to keep you tightly trapped against him; like he fears that if he doesn’t hold you tight, you’ll slip away like every dream he’s ever had of you - his greatest happiness.

You pull him in just as tight, arms around his shoulders as your hands tug, fearing the feeling of losing him again. When you part for air, you still never let go of each other, your head ducking in between the crook of his neck and shoulder. You breathe in his scent and save it to your memory as a smell you hoped to never forget or live without.

“Well, it’s about damn time! God damn!” Teddy yells from his cross legged position on his sleeping bag.

Gordie and Vern start to whoop and holler from their comfort of sleeping bags with deep pleasure and happiness.

“I knew you guys would make up eventually,” Vern added with a soft giggle.

“I was starting to miss my parents,” Gordie chided with a roll of his eyes.

“Does that mean we can all be friends now?” Vern adds with a playful glint in his eye and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I mean, I guess I could, y’know, hang around a while,” you tease, earning a shove to your side by Chris as you both walk back to your seats on your sleeping bag.

That night, you all stayed up late trading stories of what you’ve missed within the short time away from each other, and for once since the start of your adventure, you see the benefits of their changes.

They aren’t the same people you once knew because they are now their best versions, and will continue to change for the many years to come. It’s only up to you guys to keep that connection strong and adapt with them that will keep you all bound together forever.

It was your greatest promise, but there’s been a few changes: “No matter how far away we are nor how different we become, we will always find a way back to each other. Friends forever.”

You and Chris made your own promise, too: “Whatever happens, we will learn to overcome together, forever and always, in love and sickness, at the best and worst moments. Lovers forever.”

#chris chambers #chris chambers x reader #chris chambers imagine #river phoenix #river phoenix x reader #river phoenix imagine #stand by me #stand by me x reader #stand by me imagine #gordie lachance #wil wheaton #Jerry O'Connell #vern tessio #teddy duchamp #corey feldman #ace merrill #keifer sutherland #1986

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