#but those little things they changed always get me
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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Azul: You sleep together?
Chubby MC: No. I woke up and Jade was there.
Chubby MC: BESIDE ME. ALWAYS.
Azul: ...
Azul: Exactly.
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: I'm tired of explaining things to you.
Azul: Jade has keys to your house.
Azul: And didn't you give up changing them?
Chubby MC: Yes. Because I've got no budget for that.
Azul: You should have keys to his house as well.
Chubby MC: Not interested.
Azul: 😂
Jade: ...
Chubby MC: *hasn't been paying him any attention and is only focused on talking with Azul in chat*
Jade: ...
Jade: I'm jealous.
Azul: What do you mean I shouldn't talk to MC during weekdays?
Jade: MC spends three to four hours a day talking with you alone.
Azul: ...
Azul: Jade, are you being for real?
Jade: Yes.
Azul: ...
Azul: Let me just remind you that MC is my best friend.
Jade: You are my friend too, Azul. Can't I ask you to make little sacrifices?
Azul: ...
Azul: I won't be able to chat with you during weekdays.
Chubby MC: Huh. You must be too busy.
Azul: Yes. :(
Chubby MC: Eh, it's fine. I need some break from you anyway.
Chubby MC: You talk a lot.
Azul: 😡
Azul: Rude.
Chubby MC: Yeah, yeah. Talk to you on weekends.
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: *could feel Jade staring at them*
Chubby MC: I'm going for a walk.
Jade: *beams* Should I accompany you?
Chubby MC: No.
Jade: *chuckles* I'll get our coats ready.
Chubby MC: ...
Jade: ...
Jade: Can we hold hands?
Chubby MC: No.
Jade: But my hands are cold. *puppy eyes*
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: You are wearing gloves.
Jade: ...
Jade: *takes them off*
Jade: *uses puppy eyes again* My hands are cold...
Chubby MC: ...
The other people looking at them: ...
Chubby MC: ...
Chubby MC: *ends up holding his hand*
Jade: *happy*
Some random stranger: Are those two a couple?
Some random stranger: Nah. Must be siblings.
Jade: ...
Jade: Excuse me. We are not siblings-
Chubby MC: We're close acquaintances.
Jade: We're dating.
Chubby MC: What-
The strangers: Oh! That's great! *claps*
Chubby MC: ...
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I wanted to vent, but also ask an honest question. Since I was a teenager, I always wanted to work on character design. And one thing that always caught my attention was how I always preferred male character designs over female ones. My first thought was that I was always more into androgynous fashion and more masculine styles. But time passed and I came to the conclusion that it wasn't just that, and it seems that male characters can always be different things: fat, thin, handsome, ugly, short, tall, young, old, etc. and female characters, for the most part, fall into two categories: cute or sexy. I wanted some tips on how I can make female characters with more interesting designs, without having to fall into those two categories. I love your work and you managed to make someone else like the three musketeers <3<3
Hello ! That's definitely a good question and something I think about a lot. The bias towards beauty is very strong in character design and it takes a conscious effort to diversify output in that regard.
That sort of advice might be a bit obvious, but one habit I picked up from the director on my first feature film gig was to actually "cast" characters. Without reference, we tend to go for the kind of symmetrical face and "average" features mostly out of stylistic habit. I like to look at character actors with distinct faces (I like this pinterest page that has a lot of faces in one place) but also just acquaintances or pictures of random crowds.
When designing a character, at first I'm always building a big reference board trying to decide what Type of Guy (gender neutral) I'm going for, trying use photos rather than other people's art, because I want to rely on automatics and graphic symbols as little as possible. Whether I'm designing a man or a woman or other, I use references of fashion styles and people across the board in terms of gender so I keep the scope open. Sometimes a character ref board for me will be a picture of one of my aunts next to a bunch of screenshots of Columbo.
In my experience, a lot of the times, it's mostly about going with styles and archetypes the same way you would for a male character, and switching it up somewhere along the way by looking at real women in your life and beyond as a grounding mechanism. Sometimes that will mean changing almost nothing, because the borders between genders and how you characterize them is blurry and fluid, and sometimes it will mean using features that are uniquely tied to some sort of female experience.
I enjoy realism and I think getting more proficient at it did help me diversify my designs (I find that more difficult to do with more minimalistic styles). Still, I am mostly a fantasy artist and in my case that comes with some amount of stylization and idealization of shapes and looks. I'm far from perfect in my biases and I'm not going out of my way to draw "ugly" characters because that doesn't mean much to me ; I try to draw inspiration from the faces of every day people and I associate it with my love for fashion. It's also worth noting the work I post here for fun is a lot more hash tag aesthetic than the stuff I do professionally where diversity is much more important.
I don't know if any of that is relevant but that's definitely an interesting topic ! I'd love to know others' perspective and tips on the matter.
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I Wanna Be Yours
pt 1
wc: 1.6k
warnings: douchey bf, mentions of sex, clubbing, alcohol, cheating (only a little)
pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader
ok guys i’m doing a series!! this is partially why i closed my requests, so if this does bad i might cry. idk how many parts it’s gonna be but here’s part 1, enjoy :)
You laid back with a sigh and watched your boyfriend get up. He immediately pulled out his phone and called his friend.
“Yeah. Yeah man, I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and turned to you. You were sweaty, tired, and uncomfortable; he couldn’t get you to cum to save his life. “Ima hang out with the boys babe.”
You frowned. “You’re leaving already? You just.. you just got here.”
He shrugged and threw a shirt on. “Yeah, but we already fucked.”
There it was again. Your boyfriend, the guy who supposedly was in love with you, taking part in his usual after sex ritual. You’d go to either of your places, fuck, and he’d either leave completely or pay no mind to you after.
It felt like a casual hookup, and it made you feel awful.
“Plus, I’m taking you out tomorrow night. Isn’t that enough?” He hoisted his shorts back onto his waist and fixed his hair in the mirror.
“I guess.” You sighed.
He walked towards the bedroom door. “Love you babe.”
You watched him leave without saying anything in return. Your eyes shut and you took a deep breath. It wasn’t unusual for him to act this way, hell it was the only way you knew he acted, but it still hurt every time.
Your friend slung her arm around your shoulder as you left class. “Yeah, then he just left.” You finished explaining yesterdays events to her.
“Girl, you’ve gotta dump his ass.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Come out with me and the girls tonight, we can go to a club and find you someone new.”
“I can’t, Ryan planned a date night today. Some sort of dinner thing.” You shrugged. “Maybe another time.”
She gave you a knowing look. “Fine, just call if you need anything, or if you change your mind.” She smirked before walking away.
You touched up your makeup and hair in the mirror. The black bodycon dress you wore made you look incredible. He had told you earlier to dress nice, so you found the nicest thing in your closet and threw it on.
Ryan was coming from one of his friends apartments, so you had to meet him at the restaurant.
You pulled up outside of the place and found a parking spot. It looked nice on the outside, pretty yellow lights hanging around the outdoor seating, surprisingly beautiful architecture considering it’s a restaurant.
It was nice, and you knew this was Ryan trying to make up for everything. You headed inside and a hosted led you to the table that he reserved for the two of you.
Once you sat down and ordered a water, you checked the time. He was running a few minutes late, which was normal.
A little more time had passed. A waitress had come to ask if you wanted to order, and you shook your head and said to wait a few more minutes.
Well, those few minutes passed and there was still no sign of your boyfriend showing up. You pulled out your phone and called him.
No answer.
You called him again, no answer.
You sent a few texts asking where he was, if he was okay, and if he’d be there soon.
A few minutes later you checked your phone and there was still no answer. The waitress had come back to the table and she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “Listen, I know you’re waiting for someone miss, but I’d hate to see you wait here all night for them.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll- Ill be leaving now, thank you.” You gave her a polite smile and gathered your purse and jacket before leaving the restaurant.
The second you got into the car the tears started flowing. In the end, you weren’t surprised this happened. He was a shit boyfriend and always ended up making you feel this way.
You pulled out your phone and dialed a number. “Hello?” The voice rang out over the loud sound of music behind it.
“What club are you at?” You spoke through tears.
“Oh, sweetie.” You friend frowned and you could hear it through her voice. “The usual. He didn’t show up?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it. Be there in 15.” You hung up and immediately started driving to the club.
You’d been on the road for 10 minutes and there was still no answer from Ryan. The second you parked you checked his location, and it showed that he was still at his friends house.
You quickly got it off your screen and rushed into the club, trying hard to find your friends. You also were trying hard to not let the tears in your eyes fall, but it was proving to be difficult.
Once you finally spotted them, you made a beeline towards the back of the club. Except you didn’t make it very far. You ran straight into a tall figure.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” The figure turned around and a brunette stared down at you.
She must’ve seen your shaken state and shook her head softly. “No worries.” She paused. “Are you okay?”
You blinked a few times and your eyes met hers. They were soft and brown and you felt yourself immediately being pulled in.
“Hello?” She waved her hand gently in front of your face.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m- I’m okay.” You smiled a bit at her.
She smiled back and nodded. “I’m Nika, by the way.”
The second you heard her name it clicked in your head who you were talking to. Your eyes widened a bit. You were new to the UConn scene, only arriving as a transfer at the beginning of the year, but of course you had heard about Nika Muhl.
“I- I know.” You shook your head immediately. “I mean, I’ve seen you. Fuck- I’ve seen your games.” You let out a long breath and looked away from her. “Sorry, I’m a mess right now.”
She couldn’t help but smile at your nerves. She thought it was adorable. Nika laughed softly. “I’ve never seen you around before, y’know.”
“I transferred from Boston College this year.” You met her eyes again and realized her gaze hadn’t left you.
She nodded. “Why don’t I get you a drink, then you can tell me more?”
A small smile twitched at your lips. “Deal.”
The rest of the night went smoothly. You and Nika talked, and both of your groups of friends had been long forgotten.
Everything was going great until she asked about the one thing you hoped she wouldn’t. “So.. d’you have a boyfriend or anything?”
You froze for a second and took a deep breath. “I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I do.”
She nodded and took a sip of her drink to mask her disappointment, but she didn’t miss the tone of your voice when you answered.
“He’s.. awful though. I’m only here because he forgot about our date night.” You took a sip of your drink after that.
She scoffed. “What a dick.” She couldn’t believe that anyone could treat a girl like you that way. Nika had only known you for less than a few hours but she knew you were special, and deserved to be treated as such.
You shrugged and looked down at your lap. You fidgeted with the promise ring on your finger, only feeling more hurt by looking at it.
She watched you for a moment before standing up and pulled your hands out of your lap. “C’mon, let’s go dance. Forget about him.”
“Oh, no I-“ You shook your head. “I’m not a dancer.”
“Neither am I, but have some fun, yeah?”
You sighed and got up, letting her lead you to where everyone was huddled together and dancing. You stood there awkwardly for a moment before Nika started swaying, moving your arms around.
You couldn’t help but smile at her, and she smiled back. You started swaying on your own, dancing along to the music blaring from the overhead speakers.
More people joined their friends on the dance floor and it started feeling like a can of sardines. At this point, you were practically pressed against Nika.
The heat radiating off her body could be felt a mile away. You shouldn’t have been doing this with her, you had a boyfriend, but she was so beautiful and kind, you couldn’t help yourself.
Her hands found your waist and you let her rest them there. How could something so incredibly wrong feel so good?
Nika’s brown eyes stared down at you as you danced against her. Her gaze flickered lower, landing on your lips. She couldn’t help herself. She leaned in and kissed you feverishly.
You melted against her, letting the kiss consume you whole. But then Ryan’s face popped into your head. You were out, kissing a girl in a club, while Ryan was probably at his friends house asleep. He had no idea, and even though he was awful, you couldn’t do this to him.
You pulled away from her and took a step back. “I- I can’t do this, Nika. I have a boyfriend-“
“Yeah, but he’s a douche, and you deserve better.” She cut you off.
You shook your head. “But this.. this is wrong. I’m sorry.” You quickly pushed your way out of the crowd of people and through the exit of the club. You reached your car and let out a deep breath.
You ran a hand over your face and blinked a few times. “What the fuck did I just do?”
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Where did you learn that?! Pt.3
Pt.1 Pt.2 Masterlist
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader
Prompt: a few instances when y/n danced on the pole :)
Warnings: stripper pole, seggsual innuendos, mostly cuteness for this one :)))
A/N: these are just some pieces of the puzzle that I couldn’t create into a whole fic.
Y/n’s pov
1
I am feeling a little blue today so I go to my separate room that Tony made just for me.
It has everything my little pole dancer heart requires. And I can come and go as I please.
Sometimes I use it as a show room for Natasha but others I just practice.
And at times like these I go by myself and just go with the flow.
I change into a comfy yet perfect outfit for my pole session. And I warm up with a few stretches and then I go to the pole. I start some slow music and just do whatever my body wants.
After a while I think I want to send it to Natasha. Not to turn her on or anything. Just a pretty video. Since she’s on a mission and I can’t show her in person.
I start recording
Watch this vid :)))
Once it’s long enough in my mind I jump down and send the video to her with a soft smile.
I love sharing these moments with her even if she is far away.
Because it doesn’t even have to be in a sexual manner, the pole just makes me feel so happy and at home.
I can’t believe I ever stopped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2
I got a brand new type of pole today and I’ve been practicing on it while Natasha trains.
It’s a little harder than normal pole since it doesn’t attach to the bottom of the floor.
So I definitely have fallen a bit. But I keep going nevertheless. And I record every thing I do in case I get it.
After a lot of trial and error I finally figure it out with a few tricks and out something together.
Watch meee!!!
I hop down and make sure the pole doesn’t swing and smack me in the face before I run off.
Then I immediately send it to Natasha.
She’s always so supportive of me. She loves seeing me in the videos I send whether they be sexual or not. She just loves it.
And I love the attention she gives me when she sees them. (Pick me? Only for Natasha 🤷♀️)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3
I have been in my dance room all day today.
I have a pretty good set routine. Usually I would train for 5 days a week with one of the days being an all day workout I guess?
But now that I’m back into pole, I have switched out two of those days. The full workout day is now a full pole day. And one of my other workouts is pole.
Sometimes Natasha comes in and she walks in on the perfect moment and I get excited and say
“Oh my gosh natty!”
I run up to her and she grabs me as I accidentally trip a bit.
Maybe being upside down and spinning so much today has gotten to me a little. She laughs and says
“Woah there baby! We wouldn’t want you to get hurt now would we?”
I shake my head and say
“Sorry I just got so excited about this new entry I learned!”
She smiles and says
“Do you wanna show me?”
I nod my head and pull out her chair.
It’s a soft one that is perfect for when she gets a little personal show.
She sits down and I play the music and start.
Watch this pookies
I do the fast paced intro and she ends with a smirk and says
“You know, if you pair that with this dance that you sent me the other day it’d be golden”
I smirk and nod my head. So I redo it but adding the next part in
Watch 😋
I smile after rewatching the recording and I say
“Damn. You could be an instructor. That was good!”
She smiles and says
“I’m not the one who did the damn thing!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4
I wore a skinny red top to my pole workout today and I’m just realizing how good my back muscles look.
So I naturally set up my camera and did some tricks that really show off my muscles to get Natasha going.
Watch
She immediately threw her training stuff down and ran to my dance room. 😝
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I want moreeee nowwww but I’m gonna post this and possibly make a pt. 4 if I can find anymore. I’m a horrible person I know guys 😭
@ihartnat @lvinhs
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ROACH KING
trust-fund baby!gojō satoru x tabloid journalist!reader | 1,046 words
summary; you're a tabloid journalist on the brink of finally reaching the spotlight after an unsuccessful career. gojō is a self-serving trust-fund baby with nothing better to do than to see you crash and burn. it doesn't go well.
warnings; mc punches gojō in the face, gojō is a super shitty trust-fund baby, mc is a plagiarist, unwanted kiss, implications of manipulation on both sides, brief mention of blood at the end, not proofread.
thank u @stellamancer for the request!! 💙
a/n: my header for gojo needed to be as annoying as possible. I hate him. reblog this if u think it's cool ig.
“You're a goddamn roach, Gojō.”
The Usurper King sat at his throne in perfect leisure, reclined in an ergonomic chair swathed in supple violet leather, long legs propped at an angle so anyone walking through the door would see his gleaming black oxfords—one new purchase among many others, and a white smile with elegant, symmetrical teeth. He had witnessed you enter his new office with a grin; a self-assured, imperturbable one that was immediately meant to put you in your place once you saw it.
It was rare that anyone saw his eyes as they were oftentimes hidden by a pair of blackout sunglasses. Gossip was a common topic at a tabloid firm, even more so internally than what was fabricated and published for soft-brained readers to chew on and shake around like a dog with a toy that cried when it’d get mean enough.
Most speculation was that he came to work high on something since he never liked to mingle among the peons on the main floor, a testament to his role in life as a trust-fund baby living the lavish lifestyle with the kind of time to put shit up his nose and in his veins. However, you'd seen the blues and whites of his eyes on occasion—pristine, but always a little dry from Japan’s seasonal agitators, so you knew that it wasn't the case.
It was simply that it fed into the perceptions he wanted people to have of him. Mysterious. Handsome. Rich. Those instead of the qualities you truly knew him for being: A lowlife, a roach, a fucking thief who’d never have to worry about the consequences of anything in life because he had money and half of the Japanese government on his side. It wouldn't do for the idolized poster boy for the country to fall into something so obscene such as a scandal or jail.
“You stole my article,” you said, leaning back against the door once you had it shut and locked behind you. “How dare you. That article was going to be my big break. But, instead you steal it and publish it. Why did you get Ichiji fired? He was the best editor-in-chief we had ever had. Did you do it to make yourself feel big, Gojō? Is this some double-whammy for getting back at me because I wouldn't sleep with you?”
That wasn't the case because Gojō hadn't slept with anyone, despite all the rumors proposing otherwise. The only reason you knew that was after an entirely too intimate dinner where he'd drank too much wine and not enough of his meal. He had confided that truth to you in the same manner as you had when you revealed to him that the article you were going to publish—your singular spotlight moment—had been someone else's idea.
A nobody. A new girl fresh out of graduate school who was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and brimmed with audacity to try to stand apart from the other tabloid journalists.
Miwa had wanted to change the trajectory of gossip; focus it on full-truths rather than the convoluted circuit of half-truths and exaggerations. She aimed for gossip to be pure and honest, extinguish those vapid fires of tried and true to experiment with something fresh.
She was intending to derail you before you'd even had your chance to reach the top. That was just something you couldn't have, so you pulled a few strings, finagled some things and ultimately ended up with her article in your lap instead, your name ready to be printed instead of hers.
Unfortunately, your repertoire of qualities lacked stealth and common sense, as Gojō had intercepted this early on and had decided that this would be easy entertainment to beat all the usual mundanity.
“Why are you getting mad at me?” Gojō slipped his feet off the desk and got out of his chair, posture slouched in a way equally cool and sloven. “You're the one who stole the article. I just gave it back to that girl you took it from. Don't you feel just a little ashamed?”
You lifted your chin as he got closer, tried stacking your spine as tall as it could go just short of standing on your toes to match up with him. “Don’t you feel bad that you kicked out an innocent, hard working man because you were bored and wanted to see how my life would explode?”
“This ain't about you, y’know?” Gojō was inches away now, black sunglasses tucked away in his chest pocket so he could see you uninhibited through those stellar blue eyes. You hated how he looked at you with fascination, a little thing he wanted to keep and bat around with his hands. “You're pretty self-centered, but I think you know that.”
You flattened to the door, feeling the slippery varnish against your fingertips as you tried to think of what to do with your hands while he studied you, leaning in closer.
Since this entire thing had begun, from the moment he injected himself into your life, you'd never known a moment of peace and be made sure you didn't. In a way, you thought this was God’s retribution for sacrificing every principle and ethics in favor of recognition in a career you'd never been particularly good at. What better way to smite than with a force veritably worse than you?
Gojō leaned into a stilted, passionless kiss, one completely different from others you had shared. But, those had come before you knew what he had planned to do to you, that his plan had been to steal away the glory that awaited all because he wanted to see how things unraveled.
You waited until he got his fill or was dissuaded, whichever came first, before winding up your arm and launching the peaks of your knuckles straight into the right side of his jaw. A slap wouldn't have sufficed, not with how pissed off you were, not for this asshole. So, you threw as much of your momentum and weight into that punch as you could, enough to catch him off-guard and send him crashing to the floor in a clamorous heap.
You licked your lips where he kissed you, where you saw blood trickle from the corner of his mouth when he looked up at you, for the first time ever, in pure shock.
“I'm gonna get fired anyway,” you said, flinging out of your hand and flexing each finger. “Might as well have made it count.”
#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu gojo#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagines#2k writes
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Something Special
A/n: No one asked for Nikki but I like Nikki Idc that he's 65 HE'S PRETTY this is also so not how he'd react but I thought it was cute so sue me
Warnings: Smut, reader is a little bit of a stalker, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), slight angst, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
Nikki Sixx. Six foot tall crude bassist of big glam band Motley Crue.
You were obsessed.
You went to as many of their shows as you could, attending any after parties they had, all in the hopes of ‘accidentally’ running into Nikki and having the night you’d been touching yourself to for the past few months.
You couldn’t help it. You were all alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts to fuel you, no wonder your hand slid down between your thighs. Countless times you’d pretended it was Nikki’s hand pleasuring you, picturing his soft lips caressing the shell of your ear and whispering the dirtiest things to you, the room filled with your moans of his name and curses spilling out of you like a mantra.
At long last you got your hands on a backstage pass to one of Motley’s concerts. You got yourself all ready, wearing an outfit you were sure would catch Nikki’s attention. Leather skirt with matching boots, ripped fishnets and a cropped band shirt with a leather jacket thrown over to keep you warm. You spent hours on your hair and makeup all with the thoughts of what it would look like completely ruined by the end of the night.
You made it into the mosh pit, getting right up close to the stage where Nikki was. It was about halfway through the concert and you begrudgingly came to the realisation that you looked just like every other girl in the crowd. You knew that this whole time, it was always in the back of your mind that everyone trying to get with Nikki would be dressed how they thought he would want them to dress.
It killed your mood and you almost thought about not going backstage. Almost.
The concert ended, they came back out for their encore before hiding away again, inviting those with passes to come on backstage. Since that was you, you followed the herd heading that way.
As expected it was another party, a Motley Crue party. You walked around on the sides, slipping past people in the search of Nikki. You thought you saw him a few times but he always seemed to slip away. Eventually it led you to a door that you stared up at in awe.
There was a small placard on it that read ‘Nikki Sixx’.
You found his dressing room.
You thought for a moment. You couldn’t really go in there, could you? Of course you could, and you did, sneaking in without anyone noticing.
There was a couch on one side, a vanity on the other and in the middle was a small table covered in snacks and drinks and drinks and even more drinks with a small mirror dusted with a bit of white powder. But none of that intrigued you as much as the pile of clothes in the corner.
Of course the costumes they wore on stage were very extra and it made sense that they would change into them upon arrival rather than come in wearing them.
You got closer and saw a pair of boxers placed atop the pile. Your mind filled with a lustful haze as you got on your knees and held the piece of clothing to your nose, inhaling his salty, musky scent, getting high on his pheromones.
Your hand moved down to your heat, pulling your skirt up so it bunched at your hips, giving you better access to yourself. You’d decided not to wear panties, the whole goal was to get with Nikki so why would you need them? Your skirt was tight enough anyway so you figured it would be fine. Right now, though, your only concern was Nikki and his garment now in your hand, shoved into your face as your eyes rolled back in euphoria.
Then, the door opened. Your neck snapped to the direction of the disturbance, your breath heavy and fast, your hand frozen on your swollen clit. It was Nikki, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence.
You stared at him as he took a seat on the couch and poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels. He swallowed it quickly and poured another. “Well don’t stop.” He encouraged before downing the second shot.
You stayed put for a moment, unsure of what to do. When your mind finally caught up to what was happening you crawled over to him, situating yourself between his legs and looking up at him all wide eyed.
Nikki smiled down at you and placed his shot glass back down on the table before relaxing back into the couch. “You got yourself a backstage pass so you could sneak in here, huh?” He asked, sounding more proud than anything. “I saw you in the crowd, you know.” That caught your attention. “Shaking your ass for all those losers out there.”
“You saw me?” You asked, looking up at him with stars in your eyes.
Nikki chuckled and nodded. “Of course I did,” he said, one of his big hands cupping your cheek, “couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” Your cheeks hurt with how you were smiling. Nikki’s thumb swept over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. “I’ve seen you before.” He said, pressing his thumb on your tongue. “At other shows, you follow us around don’t you?” You nodded and Nikki smirked. “Figured, that’s why I led you in here.” You paused.
“You led me in here?” You asked, pulling away slightly. Nikki nodded.
“Of course, when I kept seeing you dressed up it was pretty easy to tell what you wanted, when I saw you in the crowd tonight I decided to give you what you wanted.” His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your head was resting on his thigh. “Good girls deserve rewards.”
Your head bobbed up and down, taking his dick further down your throat. Nikki’s hand was still holding your head, fingers tangled in your hair as he pushed you down his length. His head fell back on the couch as he let out deep guttural groans.
He was twitching in your throat and his noises were getting louder. He started bucking his hips up and holding your head in a tighter grip to the point where he was fucking your face, using your mouth as a fleshlight. You were getting light headed and you were loving every moment of it.
Soon he was cumming down your throat, pushing your face into his crotch as his hips snapped up a few final times. You pulled away when he let you and took a few deep breaths, finally getting to breathe again.
Nikki laughed at you as you regained your breath. He grabbed your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks harshly. “Let me see.” He demanded. You opened your mouth to show him you swallowed it all and he gave your cheek an affirming pat. “Alright, you can go now.” He said as he relaxed back into the couch.
You were at a loss for words. All this time you waited for that? No way, you needed more, you deserved more. “But-but I was good.” You said, not moving from your spot on the floor between his spread legs.
Nikki looked down at you with a raised brow. “So? Plenty of good girls out there, what more do you want?” You bit your lip. He was right, there were so many other girls out there that wanted him just as much as you. Still, you weren’t gonna let this be all there was.
You stood up and got on his lap, holding his face in your hands and crashing your lips down on his. No matter what you did, how much you moaned or whined against him, if your tongue explored his mouth, he just didn’t care. You could feel him smiling into the kiss, it carried such a demeaning tone to it.
You ground yourself on his thigh, needy cunt craving any kind of friction. Still, no reaction from him. It was just like you weren’t even there.
Hot tears trickled down your cheeks, tainting the kiss with a saltiness. Nikki’s hand came up to your shoulders, pushing you away gently and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes as he wiped your tears. “Are you crying? Why are you crying?” He asked in such a sympathetic tone it caught you completely off guard. Just a moment ago he couldn’t care less about you, and before that he was using you as his own personal fucktoy.
You sniffled softly and Nikki pulled you tight to him, letting you hide your wet face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, shh, come on now, there’s no need to cry.” He whispered to you. “Pretty girls like you don’t need to be crying.” You sniffled again.
“You think I’m pretty..?” You muttered. He held your face in his hands again as he looked at you.
“Of course I think you’re pretty, only an idiot would think otherwise.” He kissed your forehead.
“But-” You spoke only to be cut-off.
“I don’t wanna hear it, tell me you’re pretty.” You stared at him blankly. “Say it. Say you’re pretty.” He repeated. You hesitated, was this a trick? Some kind of sick mind game?
“I-I’m pretty...” You mumbled. Nikki shook his head.
“Say it like you fucking mean it.” You didn’t say anything, still unsure of what was really happening. Nikki rolled his eyes and grabbed his half hard dick, pumping it a few times. “This is what you wanted, right? Wanted me to fuck you?” Your gaze fell to his pretty dick, all leaky and glistening from your saliva still. You gave a slow nod. “I’m gonna fuck that thought into you.” You were still confused but you understood that you were getting just what you’d always wanted.
Nikki ripped over your fishnets, tearing down your thighs before pushing into you. Your jaw dropped over in a silent moan as your eyes shut tight. All those nights you’d spent imagining what it would be like to have him inside you, nothing compared to this feeling.
He laid you down on the couch, your shirt had been tossed to the floor, leaving you fully exposed for Nikki to gawk at as he thrusted into you at a brutal pace, his thumb rubbing harsh circles against your clit. It had your mind running wild. “Fuck, Nikki! Nikki, ‘m close!” You moaned, back already arching off of the couch.
“Say you’re pretty.” He grunted. You looked up at him with a confused expression. “Say you’re pretty.” He repeated in a stern tone.
You let out a whine. “I-’m pretty.” You mumbled, hoping it would satisfy him.
He stopped and pulled out of you completely. Leaving your cunt fluttering for more. “If you don’t mean it you can’t cum.” He said in a degrading tone. “Tell me one thing that is pretty about you.” Your mind wasn’t working too fast but you still tried to come up with something while the bassist stared down at you. “Seriously? Not even one thing?” You sucked your bottom lip.
“I-I think I have pretty eyes..?” You said. Nikki rolled his eyes.
“Jesus, do you hate yourself?” You stared at him. “Say it again.”
“I... think I-”
“No!” Nikki stopped you. “Say one thing that’s pretty about you.”
Again you hesitated. “I have pretty eyes.” You said in an almost confident voice.
Nikki huffed. “We’re not leaving until you love yourself.” There was a determination in his eyes you’d never noticed before. Oftentimes when you’d see pictures of him with other girls he’d have a smirk or something but there was never this in his eyes. There was something special about you.
#motley crue#motley crue x reader#motley crue fanfiction#motley crue smut#nikki sixx#nikki sixx x reader#nikki sixx fanfiction#nikki sixx x you#nikki sixx imagine#nikki sixx smut
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A glass of bourbon, or a glass of whisky?
Pairing: Simon "Ghost"Riley x F!reader
Warning: M rating. Alcohol use, hint of intimacy.
This is sort of a ... alternative start how Mini and Simon might have met? always a possibility....
Thank you @glitterypirateduck for organising the writing challenge! you are totally awesome :)
Go here to check out other wonderful writer and artist's work for this challenge.
Prompt used : 100 and 59.
Masterlist
The masked man standing by your brother staring at you, eyes wide.
And you look at him, trying your best to hold your expression neutral.
Small world isn’t it?
“So this is the brooding Lieutenant I've been telling you about.” Soap slapped the man’s back.“And…This thing here..” Soap pinches your cheek and dodges your punch on his shoulder.
“HEY! I am not a thing!”
“... is my baby little sister. She’s the youngest amongst all the cousins, so we call her Mini.” Soap ignored your protest and huffing and turned back towards the masked man.“and a word of warning. Don’t you dare hit on her.”
Well, too fucken late Johnny. You thought. This man has already shagged me a few times last night.
“Bourbon. On the rock.” Simon grumbled to the bartender, slamming down the note on the counter. He signed as the bartender nodded his head and turned to make his order. Wise decision to give himself a night to stop over at Edinburgh. He regretted making the decision to drive all the way from Credenhill to Inverness instead of flying. But he wanted to make a pit stop at Manchester to…..
“Really, You are in Scotland and you are ordering bourbon?” A cheerful but mocking voice perked up beside Ghost interrupting his inner monologue. Ghost turned his head, glaring at the woman leaning against the bar, shaking her tumbler glass.
“Clearly you have not been introduced to the proper whisky.” you laughed as you dragged a bar stool and sat down beside him.
He took a sip out of the glass. “Someone tried. But I still prefer this.”
“Maybe I can change your mind?”
“Simon. Simon Riley.” he held out his hand.
You gave him your name as you took his hand. He did a good job pretending it’s the first time hearing it. Or did you two actually introduced yourself to each other before you dragged him back to your flat?
You're pretty sure you did. By the amount of times you moaned out his name last night…
“Yours or mine?”
“My place is only around the corner. Come on.” you dragged him down the street, towards your flat. You were half nervous and half excited, the alcohol making your body and brain buzz even more. You have never done this before. Dragging a stranger back to your place, just for a night of pleasure.
But you couldn’t care less at this point. You need to forget the asshole that has cheated on you. After all those promises of undying love, how he will not forget about you even with the distance…
Load of bollocks.
Johnny can deal with him for you when you tell him about it.
“Sorry my family can be a bit too much.” You sat down beside Simon, “it always gets a bit rowdy a few drinks in.”
You noticed him slipping out of the room after your Ma and aunties started bombarding the poor man with questions, and your Da and uncles pouring him drinks, introducing everyone in the family, until your brother manage to drag the almost flustering man out of the chaos and push him towards the back door, knowing his friend need a bit of break and a smoke.
He hummed in reply, silently taking a drag of the cigarette and looking up towards the sky.
“... You have a nice family.” he whispered. You can hear the jealousy, but more sadness in his voice.
“Johnny and I are very lucky.” you lean back into the wall, and take a sip of the drink. “We are quite a closely knit family. Pretty much everyone lives within a day’s drive. And there’s always a big get together for holiday events.” you turned towards the man sitting beside you, trying to take a proper look at him. “And downside to that is, everyone is into everyone’s business.” You chuckled. “When Johnny mentioned inviting you over for Christmas, everyone thought he was going to bring his secret boyfriend home.”
Simon choked.
You laughed. “The amount of time he talks about you when he comes home, and between his texts and on the phone, I would have thought he had a big crush on you.”
“No we are just…”
“Good friend? Ah come on, it’s Ok to admit it. You know. Our family is pretty open.” You patted his shoulder. “I am just kidding. Johnny really treasures you as a friend.” You squeeze his shoulder. “He always appreciates you, and the team, how they are like his second family away from home. And Simon, thank you, for keeping my brother safe.”
Simon looks down at you, blinking, stunned by the sincerity in your words.
Oh, he’s got beautiful eyelashes. You thought. Didn’t really get a chance to have a good look..
Yea. because you were too busy moaning into his chest when he was buried inside you.
He was just as big as you thought he would be.
And he was good.
Very good.
Better than that cheating ex-partner of yours.
You were disappointed by the time you opened your eyes in the morning, he was gone. And surprised to find a note on your desk as well.
“Thank you.”
For what? You wondered.
Maybe you should have thanked him, for making you forget the misery.
“You two are still outside in the cold?” Johnny slid the window open and poke his head out, breaking both of your thoughts. “Dinner is nearly ready. Ma want you two to come and take your seat at the table.”
“I am just trying to convince Simon how superior Scotch Whisky is compared to bourbon.” You replied as you pushed yourself off the wall, smiling at Ghost, he rolled his eyes at your lies.
Soap waved his hand. “Don’t waste your breath. I tried for years. That rock skull of his still thinks bourbon is better.” he lamented.
“Or maybe I might have been swayed?” You could almost see a tiny curl of his lip as he replied. You can tell he doesn’t smile much from the surprised noise your brother just made.
“Steaming Christ Lt… “ “Johnny, we are off duty, I’m Simon here.” Ghost interjected. Soap cock his eyebrow, and sighed.
“Come on, you don’t want to keep the whole family waiting.” Soap commented again before slamming the window shut. The two of you looked at each other, before Simon put out his cigarette and dumped it into the ashtray, and stood up to follow behind you.
“Mini.”
“Mmm?”
“Care to introduce me to more varieties of Scotch Whisky tonight?”
You paused your hand that was about to turn the door knob of the back door, and turned slowly to face him, with a big smile on your face.
“Yours or mine?”
“I did tell you not to hit on my sister, Simon…Oh I knew I shouldn’t have invited you over…”
“Actually Johnny…. The truth is….”
I don't know who to tag..... so, apologise if you don't want to be tagged please let me know
@homicidal-slvt
@cumikering
@siilvan
@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world
@nrdmssgs
@writeforfandoms
@devcica
@liyanahelena
@okayyadriana
#GhostChallenge#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#sofasoap writes#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish
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I have a favorite photo.
It's the one I am most proud of.
It involved a lot of luck, but also required a lot of effort to capture.
I use it as the header for this Tumblr.
It was a foggy morning and I thought it looked spooky. My instincts were telling me I could get a unique image. I dragged out my lighting equipment and had Otis roam around in the yard. I set up my shot in an area I knew he would pass by. I didn't have wireless flash triggers yet, so I was using the little flash on top of my camera to trigger my big flash. But that doesn't work great outside. Typically it is meant to bounce off walls and ceilings so the external flash can see the light. I was trying to use a tiny mirror in front of my little flash to direct the light towards the big flash. But I kept getting the angle wrong and my flash was only firing once every few shots. I also kept missing focus as I was concentrating on too many things at once.
By all accounts, it would take a miracle to get the shot.
I should not have gotten a good shot.
But for one single frame... the fog, the sun, Otis, and my flash all cooperated.
I didn't even realize my efforts had worked until I loaded the files onto the computer. And the second this image popped onto my screen, my jaw dropped.
Up until this point I had never captured an image of this quality before. This was very early in my photography journey and I was still figuring things out. And I think seeing what was possible—what I was actually capable of capturing—that was the moment I was all in. The moment I wanted to be a "real" photographer.
This is the RAW file. The side of his face was a bit dark, but that is why you shoot in RAW. That is recoverable.
This is my original edit in 2013. The biggest thing that bothered me was the ear tips. I always wish I hadn't cut those off.
But thankfully technology has advanced enough that I can give Otis his full ears back.
And here is the remastered 2024 edition...
I used other images as reference to make sure the ear shape and size was perfect. And I also used another image of his Super Otis badge facing forward and comped that in.
Otis has a very specific shade of orange fur and it is very sensitive to editing. If you make him brighter, the orange changes to the wrong orange. If you make him darker, same thing. But I am hopeful I got that lovely orange fur pretty close to his actual coat.
I don't know if I would have fallen in love with this artform without this image. Or without Otis. He gave me so much in his short time in this world. I can never thank him enough for that.
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Weather
As those of you who follow my May ficlets surely know by now, I’ve set myself an unofficial goal to hit all of my AUs. So today I’m picking my quasi Narina AU called Lost Souls that, like, five people have read. This fic is what happens when I read Outlander, see Narnia, and read teenlock. (Tl,DR context for this ficlet: Sherlock and John are stuck in another dimension, that’s pretty much all you need to know. Also, they’re both about 18-20 in this ficlet, John is a medic, and Sherlock is working for local law enforcement)
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Weather, John thinks as he shakes out his umbrella, will never be a selling point of the British Isles, no matter in which dimension, no matter what they’re called. Sherlock gave him a long speech once about climate and sea levels and geology all being pretty much identical here, compared to the England they grew up in, so it stands to reason that the weather is equally rotten.
Well, since John has spent his entire life in England and then on the equivalent on Dera, he’s bloody well used to it.
Doesn’t mean he has to like it, though.
He can handle rain and fog and everything in between. What he doesn’t like is when a day starts out beautiful and sunny and ends up in a deluge of truly epic proportions. He’s not that wet, because he was smart enough to stay at the clinic until the worst was over, but his coat will take ages to dry, and he dislikes the smell of drying wool.
He’s just getting warm again, sitting on the sofa by the fire and enjoying a nice cuppa and the first chapter of a new novel Molly lent him when the door to their flat bangs open.
John turns around and starts laughing uncontrollably.
The thing about Sherlock is, he’s always gorgeous. But right now, soaked to the skin in his dark wool coat, hair wet and plastered to his head, dripping on the floor and wearing a pissy expression, he looks like nothing so much as a drowned cat. Specifically Toby, Molly’s black tomcat.
Sherlock glares at John, which makes the resemblance to a pissed off cat even greater.
“I fail to see what’s so funny,” Sherlock grumps as he stalks into the sitting room, shedding his coat as he goes, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy splat.
“You look like Toby, that one time he fell into the suds bucket at the morgue,” John says between giggles.
“I do not!” Sherlock all but hisses, which sets off John even more.
“Oh my god, now you sound like him too!”
Sherlock glares at him, then something in his eyes changes. He stalks over to John, who’s still on the sofa, and sits down straight in his lap.
“Oh my god, you’re cold!” John yelps, as the water dripping from Sherlock’s clothes start soaking through his trousers and shirt immediately.
“Warm me up, then,” Sherlock says, shaking his head so water droplets land all over John.
John laughs. “Great, now I’m getting wet because you don’t have the sense God gave small children to stay inside when it’s pouring outside.”
“Staying in just because it’s raining is boring, John,” Sherlock says, reeling John in and pressing his entire wet torso against John’s. “You don’t want me catching cold, do you, Doctor?” Sherlock murmurs into John’s ear. Sherlock’s closeness, the whisper of breath against John’s ear, and Sherlock using his still very new title all together make John reconcile with the situation very quickly. The fact that he, the sofa, and the floor are getting soaked are of very minor importance compared to a wet, gorgeous and mischievous Sherlock Holmes in his lap.
He threads his fingers into Sherlock’s wet hair and pulls him in for a kiss. Sherlock tastes of rain and fresh air and pastries. “Mrs Hudson is baking?” John asks, pulling back a little.
“Very good,” Sherlock says, grinning at John, an obvious challenge sparking in his eyes and in the corner of his smile. “What else?”
John grins. Two can play this game, my friend, he thinks. He noses along Sherlock’s throat, smelling rain and traces of their soap and the faint trace of canal. He licks a few raindrops from Sherlock’s neck, and Sherlock gasps. “You went to see Billy.”
“Conjecture,” Sherlock murmurs, dipping his head back to give John better access to his neck.
“Fact,” John answers, sinking his teeth playfully into the taut muscle of Sherlock’s enticing throat. “You smell like the river,” he whispers, as he dips his tongue into Sherlock’s ear.
Sherlock moans, and John grins into Sherlock’s skin. It took them a good while to find their stride, physically speaking, given that neither of them had an inkling of an idea what they were doing. But by now John knows Sherlock’s body so well, he knows exactly which strings to pluck.
“What else?” Sherlock asks, his voice no longer quite steady.
John draws back, surveying Sherlock like he’s a crime scene, knowing that this sort of scrutiny will turn Sherlock on even more. He kisses Sherlock again, licking deep into his mouth, chasing taste and sensation. He licks the corner of Sherlock’s mouth, and Sherlock moans around John’s tongue, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss, but John moves back, putting a finger over Sherlock’s mouth. “Moff’s bakery. Powdered birch sugar, you were at the doughnuts again.”
Sherlock nods, pulling at John for more kisses. John happily obliges.
“One more,” Sherlock whispers against John’s lips.
John grins and draws back a little. He runs his hands under Sherlock’s sopping wet suit jacket, pushing it off Sherlock’s shoulders as he fleeces the pockets. Nothing of interest. Then he unbuttons Sherlock’s waistcoat, one button at the time. Sherlock’s shirt is sticking to his skin, almost translucent, and John can’t resist mouthing at the taut nipple outlined under the fabric, even as he deftly checks the pockets of Sherlock’s waistcoat for clues. The rain-soaked shirt and Sherlock’s warm skin beneath, Sherlock’s hands carding through his hair, holding his head to Sherlock’s chest, and the encouraging noises Sherlock is making are almost enough to drive the game from John’s mind.
But only almost. Because Sherlock’s shirt smells of beeswax and dusty shelves. “Library,” he murmurs around Sherlock’s nipple, grazing the delectable nub with his teeth.
Sherlock gasps and pulls John up for a searing kiss. John grins against Sherlock’s lips.
Game over, then, he thinks. I won. “Are you getting warmer, love?”
“Shut up,” Sherlock says, dipping them back to the sofa, trapping John under himself, pressing his entire wet, warm, enticing body against John’s.
John grins. “Make me.”
Sherlock’s eyes darken. “Not a problem.”
As Sherlock moves in to kiss the very thoughts out of John’s head, John thinks, Oh, I definitely won, before he surrenders entirely to the force of nature that is Sherlock unleashed. Thank god for rain.
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Tags under the cut as usual, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown
#johnlock#bbc sherlock#my fic#may prompts 2024#weather#my narina au five people have read#lost souls#another au checked off the list#Sherlock and cats seems a bit of a trend this may
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(You gently close the door to Sifs room and lean back on the wall next to it. Change, what a morning.)
(You rub your temple. Alright, alright, analyse and compartmentalise, Siffrin, no, Loop, had told you a lot and you had to relay it to the others. Are they all going to take it well? You couldn't exactly keep it secret.)
(Oh boy. . .)
(You walked down to the where Nille and Odile were sitting for breakfast. Nille waved good morning.) "Hey big guy, how's Siffrin doing?"
"Oh, bad." (You sigh and sit down.) "Where do I even start."
"Never a good sign." (Odile comments from behind her book.)
"W-well, right now they're resting up. They have craft exhaustion and are pretty hungry. I was going to grab them some food."
"I got it!" (Nille stood up and scooped up some of breakfast.) "Not surprised, time crafts s'pposed to be impossible for a reason."
"Even one loop should kill them, really." (Odile adds.)
"Ah, well, about that." (You rub your neck.) "When everyone's back there's a lot to explain."
"Ah."
"Ominous, I'll be quick then." (Nille runs off with the food.)
(You pick at your own breakfast, quesadillas, just like Loop said. You took a bite, tasty!)
(You think while you eat; how many times had they eaten this breakfast? Well, if you had the same thing for breakfast over and over you might go crazy! And it's even made the exact same way every time.)
". . . Isabeau." (Odile starts.) "Did you get to ask?"
"Hrk-" (You choke a little, Crab!! You forgot!!) "N-no, I didn't. T-there was uh, something a bit more important going on."
"It sounded intense." (Back to her book.) "Argument?"
"Not really. . ." (You rub your shoulder.) "I-I'll, I'll ask them out another time! When things have calmed down."
(Nille returns to you and Odile chatting.) "They're out like a stone, don't think I've ever seen someone so sleepy."
"That sounds like Sif!"
"I doubt anything short of the King coming back would wake them up."
"Knock on wood." (Nille replies, nocking on the wood table as she sat down.)
". . . What?" (Odile looks up, confused.)
"Knock on wood! It's an old tradition to stop you from jinxing yourself. And I don't exactly want the King to come back."
"Ah I see." (Book down, researcher mode.) "Where does that tradition come from? Is it Vaugardian?"
"I don't think so," (She thought for a second.) "Actually, I got no idea where I got it from. Maybe I got it from someone in Bambouche."
"Could be one of those 'Sif things.'" (You comment.)
"Ah yes, the 'Sif things'" (Odile continues.) "I would not be surprised if this was another 'Siffrin thing', with how many little traditions seem to be tied to it."
"Like that thing they told Boniface to do? On their birthday?" (Nille asks.)
(Odile nods.) "Exactly so. Now let's pause this conversation before we get headaches, shall we?"
(You nod, right. It was always a pain to talk about 'Sif things' as you all had come to call it. Island talk. Wish craft. Rituals and- ow. Alright message recieved, back to casual non-island conversation.)
"Hmm. . . Is it tradition research?" (Nille asks after a second.)
"No, wrong." (Odile shakes her head, back to the book.)
"Awww."
"You'll get it sometime Nille!" (You say encouragingly.)
"How long did it take you again?"
"It took me a few months, and Sif figured it out durring the loops sooooo. ."
"I'll try and do it quicker then." (She rolls her eyes.)
(At long last Mirabelle and Bonnie joined in from doing their morning routine and took a seat. The casual chatter continued as you all finished breakfast.)
". . . Where's 'Frin?" (Bonnie asks.)
"He's resting up, I guess that loop yesterday really took it outta them." (Nille ruffles Bonbons hair.) "Was too busy saving our lil' scoundril."
"Ah, right, about that." (You clear your throat.) "Former saviors of Vaugarde I, Isabeau, am calling a very serious no jokes meeting into order!"
(Odile let out a half-laugh.) "Good start."
"Oh Madame! That's no way to act durring such a serious meeting!" (Mirabelle replies in a poshy accent.)
"Quite so! For we are only the most serious of serious!" (You continue, before breaking out into a laigh.)
"A real comedy duo you two are." (Nille says, leaning back.) "So, what's the deal big guy?"
"Right!" (Alright, here goes, gotta tell em everything. Now, just like Sif does. You breathe in, and out.) "Well, for one, Siffrin isn't Siffrin right now. Remember the conversation yesterday? Well they're Loop right now, not Sif. Just, as a start."
"Alright. . ?" (Odile responds as if prompting you to continue.)
"But! The, uh, the real issue is that." (Ohboy.) "They've aparently been looping through today, with this being the, 8th or 9th time."
"Again?!?!"
"Oh gems. . ."
"Well that explains the exhaustion."
"Yeah," (You rub your shoulder.) "Last loop was aparently really bad, and they had a whole breakdown- oh Change I forgot to ask for details."
"W-we can ask them later! Once they're up." (Mirabelle looked nervous.) "Did they tell you a-anything though?"
"Oh they did! Uh. . ." (You tap your chin.) "Right, so, an old friend of mine, Ramos, who used to go by a different name I think- A-anyway! They've aparently been using mind craft on people, strong mind craft. It got Mirabelle in trouble for kidnapping Bonnie, and they changed my memory."
"What?"
"I- I wouldn't do that!! Why would they-"
"THAT'S CRABBING STUPID!!!"
"Language!"
"I-I know! I know it sounds bad and uh. . ." (Oooooh boy.) "Aparently last loop they tried confronting Ramos, and they turned into a sadness and we had to fight. Nille got hurt pretty bad, but we won."
". . . But?"
"I, they didn't tell me, but, aparently something bad happened to Ramos."
". . ."
". . ."
". . . What in the world could have been bad enough to go back again?" (Odile muses.)
"I, I don't want to think about it." (You shudder. Oh Ramos. . . You remember them, you would hang out sometimes, train together, and you'd help them out sometimes with exams. They had some troubles, but they were alright! They were a good person!)
"So. . . So what do we do?" (Mira asks.)
"Well. . ." (You think for a moment. Loop seemed so. . . Distressed. Desperate. Sad. All of that. You'd seen it all before when Siffrin walked up to you at the Favor tree, they looked so distant then. . . You couldn't let that happen again.) "We should get training just like we used to!"
"Huh???"
"Ah."
"REALLY?!?"
"Not you Boniface." (Nille replies.) "You're still a kid."
". . . Pétronille, I mean no disrespect, but I'm fairly certain Boniface is a stronger fighter than you are at this point." (Odiele counters.)
"HEY!!! I'm PLENTY tough!!!"
"Haha!! 'Dile called me stronger!!"
"Oh I'll show YOU strong ya lil-"
"A-alright! M-maybe save that or another time since, since we still need to figure out everything a-and-" (Mirabelle tries breaking them up. Her look of worry doing the trick instantly.)
"Ok, ok. But if Boniface is gonna fight I better be there."
"As long as it's on the backlines as well." (You respond.) "Dive in when there's an opening just like we used to do."
"Sounds like a plan."
"I do wonder though, how much, well, how much will it matter?" (Mira was pondering.) "If this isn't the last Loop, then, we would have done all this for nothing, and, w-well."
"I had a theory on that." (Odile adjusted her glasses, oh you loved this part.) "Siffrin said they started each loop waking up from their nap. Yesterday, Siffrin also looped back to waking up from their sleep, and I'm assuming todays loop started with them waking up too." (She tapped her chin.) "There's a good chance taking a proper sleep is linked to making a "checkpoint" of sorts."
"But what about the clock tower? Sif said we always had a sleepover there before going to the house." (You ask.)
"Hmm, good point." (she thought it over, then snapped her fingers.) "Ah! Didn't you plan to tell Siffrin your grand confession durring the sleepover?"
"M-m'dame!" (You hold up your hands deffencievly.) "What does that have to do with this?"
"You chickened out, duh." (Bonnie chimes in, smugly.) "I can already see you trying to talk to 'frin when everyones trying to sleep. Then holding off till after the King."
"O-oh..." (You try to sink into the floor. That, that would be something you do, yeah.)
"As easy to see through as a plane glass window." (Nille shakes her head.)
"L-lets move on-"
"Yes yes, so, my theory is that when Siffrin wakes up it'll be a new point they'll loop back to." (Odile stands up and stretches her back.) "Which means that anything we do before they wake up will do wonders for future loops."
"Oh!!! That's great!!!" (Mirabelle jumps up too, a new spring in her step.) "I'll get my sword! Oh it'll probably be dull by now too, oh! And I need to brush up on my combative crafts!!"
"And don't forget the-"
"I don't think I could ever forget the carrot method."
"CRAB!!" (Bonnie jumps up in a panic.) "I've been using those spare tonics for cooking!!!"
"Language, but a good point. I'll help ya look for more." (Nille gets up too.)
(Phew.) "I'm glad we figured all that out." (You stood up, and strike a big heroic pose.) "Siffrin, Loop, they're gonna get out of today! And we're gonna help them do it!!"
#HRNGHRNGHRNGHR they all care about their friiiiendddddd(s)#art#isat#in stars and time#isat art#isat fanart#isat au#sifstem#siffrin system au#isat spoilers#isat isabeau#isat odile#isat mirabelle#isat nille#isat bonnie#isat fanfic
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Epiphany // Want Me - Chapter 1
Summary: Jeonghan is more than a little upset at Joshua at the moment. He's getting tired of waiting for him, too impatient and stubborn to realize what he has in front of him. Jeonghan takes his frustrations out by having fun. And maybe, he'll enjoy it with the company of a new friend.
Characters/Pairing(s): Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Suggestive
AUs/Trope info: Non-Idol!AU, Poly!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 2319
Warnings: drinking, cussing, descriptions of non-sexual nudity
Rating: 18+
A/N: banners by @kwanisms
Loud bar music beats in sync with Jeonghan's heart, shockwaves coursing through his body, and the vibrations calm him down.
It's been exactly 56 hours since that conversation with Joshua by the window, and he's still a little pressed over the fact that Joshua is taking a bit too long to catch up with him. In their 10 years of friendship, many things have changed already. Like the way Joshua dresses, how comfortable they are with controversial jokes, or the way Joshua got beefy over the pandemic for seemingly no reason?
But god, those pecs are immaculate. Jeonghan thought, this wouldn't be the first time he thought of Joshua this way.
It was a little dubious, wanting someone who's convinced they don't want you in the same way, but ever since that conversation, Joshua has never looked at Jeonghan the same.
It was like an Epiphany smacked him in the face.
Jeonghan isn't complaining though- okay, maybe a little. He's complaining about how long it's taking Joshua to take a hint. Especially when he's trying to set him up with what he believes to be the love of his life.
Apart from Joshua, of course.
A hand wraps around Jeonghan's arm, sliding into the barstool next to him. “Hey Jeonghoney!” She said, placing a kiss on his cheek, a grin spreading across her face in an impish manner.
“Shuji couldn't make it today?” She asked, already having a nickname for a guy she hadn't even met yet, but it was fine, she was always the comfortable type.
“No, doll. He's way too in his head about his feelings and I want him to ride it out on his own, he desperately needs it.” He said, taking another swig of his drink before setting the empty glass down and calling for the bartender.
Signaling another of his drinks and a new one for his new company, Jeonghan rolled his shoulders in frustration before turning to the woman next to him, her eyes watching his every move attentively, the dim red lights of the bar making her look devilish.
She is kind of the devil, though, at least to Jeonghan's loins.
“Aw, that's too bad.” She said with a pout, “At least we're here now, let's dance after this drink. What about it, Jeonghoney?” She grinned after.
Jeonghan grinned a boyish grin after this, he always loved that she was always down for whatever, making the most out of any situation. Maybe that's why they clicked during Seungcheol's birthday party.
“Yeah, I'd love that.”
The bar had a more laid-back atmosphere than most nightclubs, which Jeonghan appreciated given that the club crowd was never really his. But still, the dance floor was high on energy and hot. Everything felt too hot and sticky for him to fully get his head into it, especially not with Joshua's existential crisis being in the back of his mind.
He felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to hers as they set a more relaxed pace to the song. She leaned in, kind of shouting over the music to speak to him, “You're in your mind again Jeonghoney, care to share your thoughts?” She said, leading the sway of their bodies to the music.
Jeonghan only shook his head, holding her hips in his palms to swing to the beat more intensely. “Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about, doll. At least, not in the middle of a bar.” He tried to joke, a dry chuckle leaving his throat.
She huffs, agitation bubbling, “Then why are you thinking about it, hm? In the middle of the bar no less?”
Jeonghan just chortled at this, he kind of played himself there. She may be bubbly and easy-going but that doesn't mean she's anywhere to being stupid. She's a very intelligent woman if she wants to be.
He leans down to kiss the wrinkle on her forehead, effectively smoothing the furrow of her brows, “My bad doll, I'll just focus on you, then.” He said, turning his head to place a kiss on the side of her head, humming at the scent of her perfume.
She giggled, pulling him close to her as they swayed, the song slowing down. They both turn their heads to rest on each other's foreheads, Jeonghan's hands resting on her hips with no pressure of leading their swaying, only enjoying the warmth of her presence.
Jeonghan believes this is bliss, to have someone who wants him as much as they want them. It might be wishful thinking on his part, but he hoped that one day Joshua would catch up with him.
It was obvious how Joshua acted around him, but he needed Joshua to tell him explicitly. Joshua needed to come to that realization in his own time.
Jeonghan waited for over a decade now, what's the harm in more waiting?
She leans in, their lips brushing but never kissing, they haven't kissed, not on the lips yet, but Jeonghan is guilty of wanting to go further with her, carefully considering his options of just asking her directly to let her set the pace.
He decides he's a really patient guy, he's always waiting, isn't he?
Jeonghan came to the realization that he wasn't monogamous a long time ago, he had a lot of time to think about what that meant and to let go of the social stigma that was instilled into him at a young age. He thought he was wrong, for wanting more than one person to love. He thought his integrity and loyalty didn't exist because he couldn't just commit to one person.
But then again, his heart was just too big for one.
Jeonghan pulled away from her face to lean down and press his face into the crook of her neck, opting to press feather-light kisses to the skin, his hair tickling her cheek.
His hands roamed her midriff, still at a respectful pressure and manner. He just wants to feel her close, having no sexual intentions. He hums in contentment, peace in his mind as he shares this intimate moment with her.
Breathing in her scent made calm wash over Jeonghan in gentle waves, almost making him forget the recent turmoils of his and Joshua's relationship.
The key word is almost.
Much like every day after he met Joshua at 18 years old, he managed to make a place for himself in the back of Jeonghan's mind, never leaving no matter how hard Jeonghan tried to push him further back.
Can you blame Jeonghan though? A beautiful soul like that only comes once in a lifetime, there wasn't a day when Jeonghan could ever think that Joshua could be anything other than beautiful.
Not that he had to try hard, Joshua's merits spoke for themselves. His mindset, devotion, loyalty, and comforting aura. Everything about him. Even everything that he was insecure about, Jeonghan found beautiful.
Oh, being in love with your best friend hurts.
Maybe one day he’ll get over the monumental obstacle that was his feelings for Joshua. He felt really guilty for them most days, too. He couldn’t fully commit to being Joshua’s friend because of his feelings. He felt bad for essentially lying to him, for over a decade, even.
Jeonghan doesn’t want to be just his best friend, he never did. And that’s what bothered Jeonghan the most.
She pulls him out of his own thoughts. Running her fingers over his hair to look him in the eyes, still a little unfocused on the current moment. She should be offended, he was the one who invited her out to dance but he couldn’t even be present enough to be here.
But, of course, she isn’t. You see, Jeonghan had a type. The type to forgive over and over again. You and Joshua, basically.
He's only been in love twice in his lifetime, you and Joshua, basically.
Jeonghan finally snaps out of his own thoughts just as the song ends, pulling away from her, taking her hands in his to lead her back to the bar. “I really need a drink, sorry for ruining your fun doll.” He said, his voice a little dry.
“It's fine Jeonghoney, you need this more than I do. He'll come around, I'm sure of it.”
Oh, just how sweet can you get? Jeonghan thought, your saccharine smile sticking to his mind like thick honey, golden ambrosia poisoning his mortal consciousness.
Being in love is addictive, and Jeonghan is only a man. Maybe his pining for his best friend would be the sun he flies too close to, hubris is his greatest sin, after all.
He leans over to press another kiss to her shoulder, “You're too kind to me, doll. It's only been a few days, but would it be too soon to call you a blessing?” He jokes, trying to lighten the situation by buttering her up, like usual.
She giggles, much like at Seungcheol's party, but this time instead of curiosity toward a handsome stranger, it's adorable for a close companion.
Jeonghan and Y/n haven't known each other for long, but to a romantic, you know your soulmate as soon as you meet them.
It was easy for them, Jeonghan didn't have to skirt around the idea of something more with her. He didn't have to wait for her to get on the same page as him, minds in the same wavelength as soon as they locked eyes. Both Y/n and Jeonghan are romantics, so of course they're in love.
But Jeonghan still yearns for his best friend.
The one who stood by him for over a decade now, the only one who Jeonghan could share all his secrets, the one who knew Jeonghan better than he did, but somehow did not know anything at all.
Jeonghan only wished that in another universe, Joshua was just as much of a romantic as he is, maybe then he'll finally be able to tell him that he loves him in the way that Jeonghan wanted to.
One more drink before they go home. Jeonghan thought.
Taking her home for the first time felt a little intimidating to Jeonghan, especially since the conversation they had before leaving.
If we're going to take this relationship seriously, you need to trust me Jeonghan, trust us. I love you, truly, I want us.
She's right, of course, one look at the both of them and you'd know just how in love they were.
They make their way through the threshold of Jeonghan and Joshua's shared apartment, carefully entering Jeonghan's room. Joshua hasn't been in their apartment the whole night, choosing to spend his time with high-school friends that took the time to visit him from across the world.
It might be the best for him, a distraction from the difficult situation he found himself in.
Jeonghan helps her with her night routine, his hands are a little clumsy from all the drinking they'd done, yet Jeonghan takes great care in unzipping the back of her dress.
He kisses the new skin exposed to him, her back turned to him as she frees her hair from her up-do and she starts to pick bobby pins out. Jeonghan takes this opportunity to massage her scalp, trying to press out the tension from being up for so long.
After helping her undress, Jeonghan starts to strip lazily too, taking his time to get used to the nip of the cold air nipping at his skin, before joining her in the bathroom, he fishes out some towels as she sets the water to whatever temperature was comfortable for her.
She gets in the shower, letting the water soak into her hair and skin, fogging up the glass of the shower and the mirror. Jeonghan followed after her, hia body also getting soaked by the water as he was reaching for the shampoo and letting it lather on his palms, before gently massaging her scalp again, carefully scratching it to clean.
She sighed, the physical intimacy comforting her, it was odd for most people, to be this comfortable being naked and showering with someone they knew for less than a week. But Jeonghan just felt like someone she'd spend the rest of her life with, it was odd, to fall this quickly, but it was right, this felt right.
Jeonghan feels the same way too, most men wouldn't know what to do with themselves when in the vicinity of a gorgeous woman, but to Jeonghan, just her presence was enough. Sure, it'd be nice if there was something more, but just this was enough, love overpowering any carnal desire for her skin.
He just wants her close, so after helping her with shampoo, he hugs her from behind, warm skin pressing against warm skin, pressing small kisses to her wet neck. She giggles, Jeonghan's soft lips tickling her, leaning back against him, she sighs again, she loves this type of intimacy. Both of them were too drunk and tired to do anything over than finish up preparing for bed, so instead they just held each other close, enjoying the moment of silence, only being broken by the steady patter of the shower.
They both finish their shower and skincare before getting dressed, Y/n in one of Jeonghan's shirts and a pair of his boxers, and Jeonghan in much of the same uniform.
They take turns drying each other's hair, Jeonghan's expensive and fancy blowdryer doing the job perfectly. Now, after a relaxing shower and a few more kisses, they're ready for bed.
Jeonghan shuffles under the covers with her, immediately turning over to pull her close, his heartbeat under her ear as he steadies his breathing again. She looked beautiful, a calm washing over her in the safety of Jeonghan's arms, pressing more kisses into each other's faces as they fell into an easy slumber.
#svthub#kvanity#kwritersworldnet#hiraya m#k labels#okiedokrie#epiphany#seventeen#svt#seventeen x reader#jeonghan#joshua#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#jeonghan x joshua#svt smut#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen fic#yoon jeonghan#joshua hong#hong jisoo
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Clandestine Negotiations
Pairing: Cassian/Eris | Rating: M | Word Count: 1000~
Summary: Cassian is sent to Autumn to renew the treaty between Autumn and the Night Court
Warnings: None | Read here or Read here on ao3
A/N: This was a request a long time ago (April) from this anon. Sorry it took so long. There isn’t smut. I’m sorry for that. Also this is not a cheating fic just throwing that out there. Border by @tsunami-of-tears
Gen Tag List: @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe
Cassian made his way into the Autumn Throne room, disregarding the frowns of the guards. When he entered he found Eris lounging on the throne, his leg crossed on his knee looking bored. Postering was what he was really doing. He knew Cassian was coming and somehow his nonchalance was in itself an act.
“Lord Eris,” Cassian let his voice boom in the nearly empty room. He hated having to use his title. Little Shit was what he wanted to call him. “I bring greetings from the Night Court.”
“I thought Rhys was sending the pretty one.” Eris made a face, crinkling his nose at Cassian.
“I am the pretty one, you just have poor taste.” Cassian grinned.
Eris quirked a brow, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Someone’s learned the art of a good quip. Have you been practicing in a mirror?”
“There is only one thing I do in front of a mirror, High Lord,” Cassian said before he could stop himself. “And I definitely don’t need practice for it.”
The innuendo hung in the air between them. Then Eris let out a laugh.
“Cocky bastard,” he said, standing. “Come along, I don’t have all day.”
Eris stood and straightened his clothes. Cassian noted the tighter white tunic that clung to his form and the similarly tight brown trousers. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his scent in check. Eris was always good looking but when he tried- he was a down right devil. Cassian relaxed his wings as he followed, the side corridor empty of even guards. He openly stared at Eris as he walked in front of him, those fucking tight pants excentuating the curve of his ass. Gods he was going to murder Rhys for sending him.
They entered a side room a few doors down. It wasn’t the usual conference room; smaller with a round table in the middle. At least the chairs had a low back for his wings. Cassian looked over at Eris as he pulled a stack of paper from a pocket realm and sat them down on the table. He could see the tension in his shoulders from where he stood by the door.
“You look stiff,” Cassian’s voice rolled out in a low rumble. “You need help with that?”
“What I need is for you to stop flirting,” Eris grumbled. “We have a negotiation to discuss. Rhys thinks he’s so fucking clever.”
“Why is that?” Cass grinned.
Eris cut his eyes up to him. “He thinks he can send a pretty face to distract me.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t the pretty one,” his grin widened.
“I lie when it suits me, you know this. Now sit.” He gestured to a chair at the table.
“Do I get a reward if I behave?”
Eris didn’t react. Instead he sat across from him and ignored that remark. Cassian sat down and they proceeded to review each and every single document. An hour in and Cassian’s eyes were crossing at all the terms and conditions Eris was laying out for his agreement renewal. Nothing was changing- just the annual review.
“How many more of these do you have,” Cassian groaned, laying his head on his arms that rested on the table.
“I can add at least 20 more pages if you keep grumbling.” Eris crossed his arms and leaned back in his own chair. “If you’re bored, you can call Azriel to take your place.”
Cassian lifted his head and shot him a glare. It only made Eris smirk at him.
Eris added,“that’s what I thought you big oaf.” Oh how Cassian was going to fuck that sarcasm right out of him when this was over. “Focus, and I’ll give you a treat.”
“Can’t we take a break?” Cassian tried to ask nicely.
“Your idea of a break cost me a table last time.”
“Only cause you said ‘harder’.”
Cassian didn’t regret breaking that table. He doubted Eris did too and just threw something out to try and embarrass him. Eris’s amber gaze flickered over Cassian as he sat up. The High Lord once again rolled his eyes.
“There’s literally only thirty pages left.”
“Thirty too many.”
“Impatient brute.”
“You know Rhys doesn’t care about this. If he did, he’d be here himself.”
Cassian crossed his arms against his chest again. He could smell Eris from across the table no matter how much the High Lord tried to dampen his scent. Cassian didn’t hide his own. The whole room would stink with it for all he cared.
“I could have slipped something in the contract in these last thirty pages.” Eris had that arrogant smirk on him- his lying one.
“Rhys knows you’re a good enough male to not do that. This is just for theatrics.”
“Rhys only thinks he knows what kind of male I am.” Cassian chuckled at the annoyance in his tone.
“I know what kind male you are.” Cassian lowered his voice. “A very, very good one.”
Eris was on him immediately. He laughed as the normally stoic High Lord pressed his lips to his own and straddled his lap. Eris could say what he wanted, Cassian always got what he wanted. Always. His hands immediately grabbed his ass to pull him up his lap. He also opened his mouth a little coaxing Eris to deepen the kiss but the High Lord wasn’t having it.
“You know I can’t stand when you do that, you absolute bastard,” Eris pulled back and worked at Cassian’s clips but not making much progress. “Take these off before I burn them off.”
“These are my good leathers. You burn this off, I’ll have Rhys send Azriel next time.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, General.” His amber eyes blazed as he smirked. “Though maybe next time Rhys can send you both.”
“No,” Cassian scowled. “This is our time. I am not sharing it.”
Eris hummed. “Not even with say, Nesta?”
In a swift movement, Cassian was up and tossed Eris onto the table hard. Eris’s moan was almost a growl and he shoved the papers aside, some falling onto the floor. It took Cassian a moment to realize exactly what Eris did, especially with him smirking at him.
“Ass.”
“I can play your game too, General.” Eris sat up on his elbows. “Do not break this table or I’m billing your High Lord for damages.”
Cassian just grinned.
Three days later, Rhys stared at the bill from the Autumn Court and told Cassian he wasn’t asking questions but next time it’s coming directly out his salary.
#eris said do not do this#and Cassian took it personally#acotar#eris vanserra#cassian#cassian acotar#Caris#cassian x eris
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Title: Joyful Gatherings
Note:I think I post a lot,But I have many drafts,hope you like it ;3 request are open oh and I changed few things..everything is made up...and if you want to talk I'm here,Tell me your inspirations and ideasI was thinking of writing something,Lana Del Rey's Lolita is my inspiration at the moment (I love her songs:) what do you think should I write it?
Summary: Set in 2023, the Button and Vettel families gather for a dinner filled with laughter and joy. Reader, Jenson Button's little sister and Sebastian Vettel's wife, has exciting news to share that leads to heartfelt reactions and playful teasing.
Warning: Fluff, family banter, pregnancy announcement
Retired!Sebastian vettel x wife!reader!Button, Jenson Button x reader!Button ,
Jenson's wife x reader [her name is Emma]
It was a warm, summer evening in 2023, and the Button household was abuzz with laughter and conversation. The dining room table was set for a family feast, filled with delicious dishes that Jenson's wife Emma had expertly prepared. Jenson, Emma, and their children filled the room with their energetic chatter. Seated at the table were also Sebastian and you his wife, who happened to be Jenson's younger sister.
Sebastian, now retired from Formula 1, had taken to the quieter life with ease, but the camaraderie and competitiveness still ran strong in the group. Tonight, though, there was a special kind of excitement in the air. The two families hadn't gathered like this in some time, and it felt good to be together.
Jenson was mid-story, recounting a particularly daring maneuver from his racing days, when you, sitting beside Sebastian, glanced at him. You squeezed his hand under the table, a silent request for reassurance. Sebastian met your eyes and gave a small nod, his smile calming your nerves.
Taking a deep breath, you cleared throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Everyone, we have some news to share."
All eyes turned to you, curiosity piqued. "What's going on?" Jenson asked, his tone playful yet concerned.
"I'm pregnant," you announced, your voice wavering slightly with emotion.
For a moment, there was silence as the news sunk in. Then, the room erupted into cheers and congratulations. Emma reached over to hug you, while Jenson clapped Sebastian on the back with a hearty laugh.
"Well, Vettel, looks like you're not wasting any time!" Jenson teased, his grin wide.
Sebastian chuckled, his arm wrapping protectively around you. "Guilty as charged," he replied, his eyes twinkling with joy.
The children, caught up in the excitement, were peppering you with questions about the baby, while Emma joined in the teasing. "Better get ready for those sleepless nights again, Seb!" she laughed.
"Ah, sleep is overrated anyway," Sebastian retorted, drawing more laughter from the group.
Jenson shook his head, still grinning. "Just make sure to teach the kid how to drive properly, not just fast."
"Oh, don't worry. With an uncle like you, they’ll have the best of both worlds," Sebastian shot back, earning another round of chuckles.
As the night went on, the two families continued to share stories and jokes, the atmosphere light and filled with love.
Emmma leaned over to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can’t believe it! Another little one in the family. How are you feeling about it all?"
"Honestly, I'm a mix of nervous and excited," you admitted. "But with Sebastian by my side, I feel ready for this new adventure."
She squeezed your hand warmly. "You two are going to be wonderful parents. And don't worry, we'll be here every step of the way."
"Thank you, that means a lot," you said, eyes misting over slightly.
As the evening progressed, the conversation shifted to future plans. Jenson, always the doting brother, promised to be the best uncle and spoil the baby rotten.
"Just remember," Jenson's wife said with a wink, "we're always here for you. We're family, and we'll face everything together."
You smiled, your heart full. You looked around the table, at the faces of your loved ones, and felt a profound sense of gratitude. It was in moments like these that you realized how truly blessed you are.
Later in the evening, as the group began to wind down and the children were ushered off to bed, you found yourself alone with Emma in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of their meal.
“You know,” she began, handing her a plate to dry, “when Jenson and I found out we were expecting our first, I was terrified. I didn’t know the first thing about being a mom.”
You looked up, surprised. “You? You’re such a natural, though.”
She laughed softly. “It didn’t feel that way at first. But you learn as you go. And with a partner like Seb, I have no doubt you’ll be just fine.”
“Thanks,” you said, feeling a bit more at ease. “It’s good to hear that. I mean, I’m excited, but it’s all so new.”
She smiled warmly. “And that’s the beauty of it. You get to discover it all together. And you’ve got us, too. We’re just a phone call away.”
They shared a knowing smile, the bond between them growing even stronger with the shared understanding of motherhood.
As the evening drew to a close, and the families began to say their goodbyes, Sebastian pulled you close, whispering in your ear, "I can't wait for this next adventure with you."
You looked up at him, eyes shining. "Me too," you whispered back.
And as two of you stepped out into the cool night, hand in hand, they knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, surrounded by the love and support of their family.
Short fic as always,(cause after wattpad i don't feel confident to write long fics).. i love Emma she is so sweet. Hope you liked it ;3...oh And I was thinking of writing about Jenson and Emma, as well...is it too much? Okay so hope you have good day or night and don't forget to drink water
#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel#jenson button x you#jenson button x reader#jenson button#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#fanfic#f1 drivers
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HD Party Games fic recs
Here are a few drarry fic recs in which party games play an important part. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.
Back to You by @aibidil & daisymondays [8k]
The eighth years make Harry and Malfoy go head to head and back to back in a question-and-answer drinking game. The worst that can happen is they end up drunk, right?
Boom Clap (The Sound of My Heart) by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [39k]
Post-war Hogwarts has been energized by its new teaching fellows program. Where once bitter enmity divided the wizarding community, Malfoy and Potter chummily patrol hallways together whilst Granger and Zabini seek lost parts of the castle at McGonagall’s behest and Chang supervises Quidditch when not lecturing in Charms. It’s a veritable wizarding utopia and life is predictable for the first time in years. Which is, of course, when everything blows apart as the result of a drunken dare and Malfoy’s life is ruined beyond his capacity to repair it. Ever. In a million years.
check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks [7k]
Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.
Erase the Shame by FleetofShippyShips [6k]
An Inter-House unity party is the last thing Draco wants to go to. It's not long into a game of Truth or Dare when he is reminded why.
But maybe his dare is worth it after all.
Exceeds Eggspectations by Elle Gray (LGray) [61k]
Eighth year. Winter. Christmas has been and gone. Harry’s just been dumped and so has Malfoy. There’s a stupid fake baby assignment to be done, and what’s the harm in doing it together, really, when life is this shit already?
This is not slow burn, this is a roman candle pointed at a pile of dry twigs that represent your heart.
Games Night by @agentmoppet [6k]
Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much... tension?
How to Handle an Enemy by who_la_hoop [7k]
Everyone knows that it’s no fun playing truth or dare with a Slytherin. But add a little Veritaserum, a scheming duo of Slytherin girls and surprising things can be revealed. Particularly about the fine line between love and hate…
Turnbout Is Fair Play by who_la_hoop [10k]
After a – cough – revealing game of truth or dare instigated by his fellow Slytherins, Draco Malfoy finds himself in possession of a). the interesting knowledge that a certain Gryffindor horror may not be as immune to his personal charms as hitherto suspected and b). the password to the Gryffindor Tower. But Draco makes a fundamental error when he decides to make use of these facts.
Love, Harry by Zzzara [26k]
Harry Potter keeps a huge secret: that scary thing he can’t tell anyone about. Until a mysterious penfriend changes his life, because he keeps a secret, too.
Never Have I Ever Thought That You Might Want Me, Too by @drarrymyheart [8k]
“When it’s his turn, Ron gives Harry an ominous look. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss any of the boys in this room.”
Harry freezes. Dean, Seamus, Hermione, Hannah, Pansy, and even Blaise are all immediately lifting their drinks. Malfoy moves to pick his up as well and Harry tracks the movement as if watching in slow-motion…The ridge of Malfoy’s bottle of cider pushes against his lower lip as he takes a sip. Harry nearly groans. Steeling himself, Harry drinks.”
Harry and the crew take a ski trip. Harry can’t seem to keep his eyes and thoughts off a certain blonde.
One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore [41k]
Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers.
A Perfectly Valid Dare by kitty_fic [5k]
“It’s a perfectly valid dare,” Pansy says, and somehow she looks like she actually believes what she says.
“I am not doing that,” Draco insists. He really has no idea when daring someone to wank in Harry Potter’s bed became a perfectly valid dare?
Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k]
Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory.
Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.
Malfoy felt inevitable.
Silk Scarves and Enchanted Handcuffs by TommyLane [28k]
It was only supposed to be for seven minutes and then the blindfold would come off and he'd be free from the dark cupboard and his mystery partner - only Harry was no longer sure he wanted it to end.
Starts With a Spin by Maxine [119k]
It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.
Truths, Dares, and Love Affairs by @ronbinary [17k]
NEWTs are approaching, Mind Healing is mandatory, and something is wrong with the castle.
And then, there’s Potter.
When I Put My Eyes On You by Zzzara [31k]
When a hero defeats a villain, there’s supposed to be a happily-ever-after… but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew.
When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there’s more to it than the eye can see?
A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes.
where all the veins meet by eight_of_wands [146k]
It’s the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort’s soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?
His friends try to help, but the only thing that can hold his attention—one of the only things that ever has—is Draco Malfoy, out on parole and weirdly hanging around the British Museum.
As they keep running into each other, Harry sees that Malfoy is different, and he wonders if he can be someone else, too.
Featuring rumpled band shirts, poker games everyone hates, fumbling sex, and a Harry going a little mental over how wands even work.
I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!
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Felix and lovie:
L: but... arent promise rings meant for bfs and gfs?
Felix: i mean, we made the promise to always be close so its our promise ring i think.
L: i guess youre right!
Farleigh: 🧍🏾♂️
i want to queue posts before i go on my trip but i also i love instant gratification ahhh
this isn’t exactly promise rings but i think it feels pretty close
His room still smells the same--faint traces of smoke and cologne blending into slightly humid air. You're not sure what you expected. Felix left for a weekend for some family function his mother wanted him to attend. Two days.
Not a significant amount of time. Not enough time to change anything, and yet you felt every second of it. You missed him. Missed him more than you think you'd ever be willing to admit.
"Did you miss me?" There's no way he knows what you were thinking about, but there's something about the slight tilt of his head and his barely there smile.
You hold his gaze for a beat before letting your attention fall to your shoes. "Maybe a little."
Felix's mouth falls open in a mock gasp. "Maybe?" And then, still completely appalled, "A little?"
You press your lips together into a firm line to keep from laughing at his reaction. Felix moves to stand, leaving his bed in favor of approaching you. In an attempt to hold your ground, you cross your arms in front of your chest. Felix disregards your feeble line of defense, continuing forward until you're within easy reach.
"I could say--" Felix places a firm hand on your shoulder. A sound between a laugh and something slightly more panicked tumbles through your sentence. "I could say I missed you a lot, but--" Another hand on your other shoulder, another clumsy laugh. "But I don't need to feed your ego."
He pulls you forward gently until your face hits his chest. You halfheartedly lift your arm in an empty attempt to push him away. You're quicker to embrace defeat, glad for the excuse to be near him, really near him.
You hugged Felix when he first got back to campus, but with his usual crowd all desperate to catch up with him and Farleigh right there, you felt a little more watched than usual. You couldn't do what you really wanted, couldn't take a beat to just absorb Felix's warmth.
"So you were being mean."
You're only half listening, more focused on wrapping your arms around Felix. The scent of his detergent is stronger than usual, nearly obscuring the scent of his cigarettes entirely. Maybe he smoked less this weekend. You try to picture Felix under some kind of authority, sneaking cigarettes out on a patio to avoid upsetting his parents. It's so normal, a part of you regrets not getting to see him like that.
His hand presses against your back. "Lovie?"
You lift your head enough to look at him. "Yeah?"
Felix's eyebrows briefly pull together. He watches you for a moment before grinning. "You missed me."
His smugness has the instinct to protest crawling up your throat, but there's something so content about his expression, you can't bring yourself to deny it the way you usually would. "I missed you. A lot."
Felix's grin broadens. He tilts his head downwards, his lips briefly brushing against your forehead. He straightens before responding, "You could have come with me."
You did meet Felix's sister during your Christmas break trip, and she was really nice, but Felix's world is still something you're vaguely wary of. Maybe you could have come around to the idea of meeting Felix's parents, but the thought of attending some event intended only for his family was a little overwhelming, especially because Felix didn't invite any of his other friends.
"It was a family thing."
Felix lets out a soft sigh. "I brought Farleigh."
"Farleigh's your cousin, he was already invited."
He pulls back slightly, his hands moving away from your back as he lets go of you. "No one cares if you bring a date to those things." It's the same argument he used in an attempt to get you to go with him. "It's to keep the night bearable."
"Bearable?" You beam. "You missed me."
From you, it's an accusation. Felix's eyebrows draw together, like he's unsure why you felt the need to say something so obvious. "I missed you." He shifts back on his heels in a way that borders on uncertain. "So much, I brought you back a present."
You raise your eyebrows at that. Felix is a thorough person. When he gives someone his attention, that person has his entire focus. When Felix gives presents, he tends to be just as generous. It's not a bad thing, but it is something the two of you have talked about. Yes, you're best friends, but that doesn't mean you want Felix splurging on you. Even if it's not splurging to him.
Felix turns, walking towards the bag that he left on his bed. With his back to you, it's a little easier to watch him openly. He went to English countryside for some charity event put on by some cousin. What could he have gotten? "A present?"
He unzips his bag. "Yes," Felix shifts through his close, "A present."
When Felix turns to face you again, there's a something small and square in his hand. The closer Felix gets, the clearer the object becomes. A box that's oddly reminiscent of a jewelry box.
With an abruptness that doesn't seem to suit him, Felix extends his arm to hand you the box. You watch Felix as you take the box, doing your best to decipher his expression. He's strangely blank.
You open the box, revealing a ring safely tucked between cushioned velvet. There's an image carved into the flat face of the ring. The carving of an arrow-pierced hand emerging from a crown is vaguely familiar. You might have cared about placing the image more if the ring was less stunning.
"You um--you wear a lot of rings, so I thought..."
You do wear a lot of rings, there are several on your fingers right now. "It's really pretty."
"My mum was going through some older pieces this weekend and it reminded me of you." The explanation is mumbled cautiously, Felix's attention shifting from you to the ring and then back to you.
Your lips part, an uncertainty you're not accustomed to feeling around him making it hard to speak. You don't know everything about Felix's family history, but you know enough to understand that when he says something from his home is old, he means it.
"Lex." The gesture tugs at a sentimental part of you that exists solely in the pit of your stomach. "That's really sweet, and it's really pretty, but I can't take some family heirloom from you."
His eyebrows pinch together in a way that feels more confused than directly unhappy. "You're not taking it, I'm giving it to you." Felix shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "C'mon, I've got loads of these, it's just been sitting in some closet."
Felix is watching you with wide, almost pleading eyes. You let your gaze fall back onto the ring. With no warning, Felix places a hand over yours. "We'll trade."
You don't fully understand what he's getting at until Felix starts to straighten your fingers. He twists the ring that's on your ring finger. It's a nice ring, a simple band with thin carvings that you picked up at a vintage jewelry shop on a whim, but it's not exactly an even trade.
Felix slides the ring off your finger. A trade is a little easier to accept. The two of you share things like bracelets all the time. "Okay," you pause to take a breath, "But if you ever want it back..."
"Yeah, I know." The words feel like a dismissal. You narrow your eyes briefly, but don't push the subject the way you normally would. You're too happy to see him to care about technicalities.
Felix pulls the ring out of the box and slips onto your finger. You bend your fingers and turn over your hand to get a feel for the ring and its size. It fits. "It's really nice."
"It suits you."
Before Felix can pull your ring onto his finger, you put your hand over his. He lets take your ring from between his fingers. You hold your thumb beneath Felix's palm, the rest of your fingers curling over his knuckles. Felix keeps his fingers straight as you place your own ring on his finger. "There."
Felix grins. "There?"
"Yeah, it's--" You ignore the warmth attempting to make its way up your neck. "It's in place."
He stretches his fingers, studying the way the band looks on him. There's something about his expression you can't quite read, but it doesn't seem unpleasant. He drops his hand before you can attempt to decipher his thoughts any further. "Do you want to watch a movie?"
You drag your thumb against the side of the ring. "Yeah, a movie sounds nice."
----
fun fact the design carved into the ring is supposed to be the catton family crest :)
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy
#bestfriend!felix#felix catton x reader#bestfriend!felix x reader#felix catton x you#saltburn x reader#jacob elordi#jacob elordi x reader
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