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#let's talk about books on main today
nellasbookplanet · 2 years
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I've never been particularly interested in reading the love hypothesis (contemporary romance isn't my thing) but seeing people get absolutely frothing mad at its mere existence is pushing me close to actually picking it up.
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rose-pearls · 3 months
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The perils of love
Summary: being in love with Luke seemed to be a bad idea as you realise that he doesn't seem to be interested. But as you get ready to move on from love entirely your father decides to appear and two people fall for you.
Main Taglist : @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)
Part 2
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Luke Castellan, everyone knew him at camp either for his sword skills or just his kind smiles for every camper that walked into the Hermes cabin. You had fallen for him the moment you met him, sweet brown eyes and a kind smile had you into a puddle. 
You had been twelve, wandering around the Hermes cabin, waiting desperately for your parent to claim you but the days went by, and you still were there. The little girls crush however didn’t went by but grew stronger every day you saw the boy who slowly turned into a man that had all the girls going crazy over him.  
He had been kind to you but there was always a look that you couldn’t decipher, until today that was.
“So, where is your number one fan Luke?”, you hear Chris say in a teasing tone and after a moment you hear Chris say your name, as if to make it clear it was you. 
“I don’t know and frankly I don’t have the time to care right now,” Luke says after letting out a sigh, but you felt your chest tighten at the words. Chris snorts at the words and you don’t expect what he says next.
“You know that there is a betting pool as to when the both of you are going to date,” you don’t know how Luke reacts, as you are practically one with the wall, but you hear him snort.
“Please, she is a sweet girl, but I would never date her. I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes she can just be a little-”, he seems to be trying to find his words and as you wait for it you feel tears brimming in your eyes at his previous statement.
“Clingy? I mean she is practically everywhere you are.”, the words are like a bullet to your heart, particularly when you hear Luke agree.
“I know right, I mean I know that she is still part of the Hermes cabin as she hasn’t been claimed yet but still,” you try to blink the tears away, not willing to cry as you hear the words being said by the man you had always looked up to. 
“Maybe she will never be claimed, I mean after three years,” Chris says, and you can hear the grimace in his voice, he says it with such carelessness as if you haven’t been thinking about the same thing every night for the past three years, wondering what was wrong with you.
“We’ll see what happens I guess, but maybe it would be good for her to be in another cabin,” Luke says, he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, but Chris adds one last phrase to their conversation.
“Or better for you,” there is a quiet hum of agreement and that is the only thing you need before leaving the cabin quietly, the book that you had come for quickly forgotten.
You knew it was pitiful, the fact that they all seemed to know that you liked the Hermes boy and that they all pitied you for it. Because in the end the boy would never go for you, he had a hundred girls waiting for him and yet here you were hoping for the impossible.
Tears are brimming in your eyes, but you quickly brush them away, not wanting to cry after what had happened, you needed to be strong now. It was time for you to get over that stupid crush and get on with your life, maybe if you trained more your godly parent would finally recognize you and claim you.
“What are you doing here all alone?”, you suddenly hear someone say behind you and you turn around to find Annabeth looking at you with worried eyes.
“Thinking, the lake always seems to sooth me,” you say, the words coming a bit weaker than you intended them too. The girl simply nods at your words before sitting down next to you.
“What about you?”, you quietly ask her, and she lets out a sigh.
“Needed to get out a little bit, I can only strategise so much before going crazy,” she says with a small smile, and you can’t help but smile at her words.
“I’m sure your strategy will be incredible, as always,” you tell her and she simply nods, looking too far into her thoughts.
“Chiron is thinking of splitting up the Hermes cabin,” she suddenly says, and you turn to look at her in surprise.
“Really? How so?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering if this is maybe your chance to get a bit away from a certain Hermes boy.
“He thinks that the unclaimed children and children of minor gods should get the chance to chose in which team they want to be,” she looks conflicted, and you can understand why, this could mean less people for the blue team, her team.
“It seems like a kind gesture,” you can’t help but say and Annabeth nods in agreement.
“It is, although he could’ve said it sooner, now we all need to find a different strategy and we are going crazy with figuring out who will be on our team,” she seems overwhelmed, and you can’t help but put your hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down.
“Hey, calm down it will all be alright,” you tell her, and she takes a deep breath before slowly nodding in agreement.
“I know, I just don’t want to lose,” she says with a pout, and you can finally see the twelve-year-old she really is, that childlike excitement at the thought of capture the flag.
The both of you are deep in thought before her voice breaks the silence, her voice small as she talks.
“Which team are you choosing?”, it was probably a valid question to ask, you were unclaimed so you could technically choose which team to be on, but you just couldn’t get the previous conversation you had heard out of your head.
“The fact that you aren’t saying anything makes me think that you are going to go on the red team,” it seems like she is trying to tease you but there is some sort of hurt woven into her words.
“Don’t take it personally,” you can’t help but say, as much as you would’ve liked staying on the blue team you just couldn’t bear to be that close to Luke after what you had heard. You didn’t know what you would be doing tonight as you were sleeping in the same cabin as always, but he wouldn’t pay attention to you not unless you went to him.
“Did something happened with Luke?”, the carefully asked question makes you look at Annabeth with wide eyes, she had an understanding look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but curse the fact that she was Athena’s daughter.
“Nothing happened, I just realised that maybe I should get to know other people and that maybe it would get me out of my comfort zone,” there are a lot of things unsaid, Annabeth knows it too. Luckily, she doesn’t know of the conversation you had heard, or the fact that the words had cut you deeper than you could’ve ever thought they would. 
“You should probably tell Chiron and the red team, I heard that they were planning a strategy evening to talk about what they were going to do tomorrow,” you try to find anger in Annabeth’s eyes but there is only understanding and a lingering sadness that seems to disappear as you get up.
“Good idea, I will be doing that right now. Good luck on the strategy and don’t drive yourself crazy Annabeth you will do great,” you tell her, and a sweet smile appears on her lips as she nods slowly making you smile at her.
“Don’t be a stranger!”, she yells as you are about to leave, and you turn around to smile at her.
“I won’t!”, she looks reassured at the words before turning back to the water, leaving you to go towards Chiron office. 
--
“A little birdie told me you were on the red team,” you hear someone say and turn around to find Clarisse smirking at you.
“Would that little birdie be Chiron?”, you ask, feeling breathless after trying to stab the dummy about a hundredth time with your sword.
“I don’t reveal my sources princess,” she says with a smirk while you feel your cheeks heat up, you tell yourself it’s because of the work out you just did.
“We have a meeting tonight, after dinner at the Ares cabin,” she says while looking around the rink before picking up a sword.
“I’ll be there,” you tell her, expecting the girl to leave you alone but she just comes closer to you.
“After that there is a movie night and a sleepover, one of the Aphrodite kids managed to convince Chiron to allow it,” the words leave you confused for a moment, how would you even have a movie night with all these people.
“Only a few people are invited for that part,” she clarifies, and you feel breathless at the sight of her warm brown eyes, seemingly forgetting about other brown eyes.
“How come I am invited?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering why the Ares girl suddenly seemed sweet to you when she was practically attacking anyone else. 
“Don’t ask too many questions or you’ll be uninvited princess,” the nickname rolls of her tongue in a way that makes your cheeks go red, once again.
“Fine I’ll stop asking questions and just come with my pajama’s,” you tell her, and a satisfied grin makes his way on her lips.
“Good, now back to serious stuff you were holding your sword the wrong way,” she says like it’s a fact, as if she was pointing out that the sky was blue.
“No, I wasn’t!”, you can’t help but say looking at her with wide eyes.
“Yes, it is, let me help you fix it. I need the best people on my team after all,” you get ready to object but as you feel her get behind you putting her hand over yours on the sword to put your hand correctly you find yourself speechless.
The next hour is spent fighting against each other, but you can’t stop laughing as Clarisse tells you stories of her siblings to try and distract you, which ultimately works as you often end up on your ass. You don’t even seem to notice another pair of brown eyes looking at you, farther away, brows furrowed as he looks at the scene in front of him.
--
“Welcome to the exclusive sleepover,” you hear a soft voice say and you turn around to find Silena smiling kindly at you, two glasses in her hands before giving one to you.
“Thank you, guess they really were exclusive as I had never heard of them before,” you say, feeling a bit nervous as you look around the room only to find Clarisse in a heated discussion with another Aphrodite girl.
“Clarisse only invites people that she trusts or likes, which isn’t many, but she does cares for them,” Silena smiles at the Ares girl in front of you and you can’t help but do the same, Clarisse always seemed to be angry but in that moment, she seemed far more softer.
“I’m glad she trusts me,” you say, somehow missing the look Silena gives you, a look of confusion as you seem to have missed her clue on Clarisse liking you.
Clarisse had always been discrete about it, but Silena had caught her looking at you far too often to not know about it. Her fingers always seemed to itch when you were sword fighting, as if she was itching to get your posture right and to be able to touch you even for just a few seconds. You only had eyes for the Castellan boy, or it seemed that way until yesterday when Chiron told them that you would be on their team. Silena didn’t ask much of her mother but in that moment, she couldn’t help but ask her mother for help to get the both of you together. Clarisse deserved her happy ending and you deserved someone who would love you for who you were.
She gets woken from her thoughts as she hears Clarisse talking to you, there is a nervousness in her gestures as she pushes her hair behind her ear, but you don’t seem to realize it as you recount a story. Silena quietly gets up from her spot, and sends and encouraging look towards Clarisse, who seems a bit more at ease now. 
--
Capture the flag is a mess, more than the last time but you try not to let your mind wander too long. A boy that you think is from the Hephaestus cabin runs towards you and you sigh in annoyance before starting to fight against him, quickly ‘killing’ him and making him surrender. 
You had been tasked with trying to find the blue flag, but it seemed as if Annabeth had found a really good spot this time, and she had put more people in defense. After a while you wondered if you had the wrong hunch until you saw something blue flickering in the reflection of your sword. As you turned to look behind you, you saw the blue flag but weirdly there was no one around it.
“This feels like a trap,” you can’t help but whisper under your breath as you try to hide behind the bushes but a blade against your neck makes you stop in your steps.
“Sorry, but I need to do this,” you hear someone say and you turn around to find a sheepish Percy looking at you.
“Hi Percy,” you say with a kind smile and the boy smiles back, looking reassured that you aren’t mad or swinging your sword at him.
“How are you doing?”, you can’t help but ask, you hadn’t seen him since he had been claimed by Poseidon, but the boy seemed healthy.
“Good, well as good as you can when you learn that your father is one of the big three’s and that your life will be a hellhole,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you can’t help but snort.
“Still as sarcastic I see,” you can’t help but say while laughing and a sheepish grin forms itself on his lips.
“Can’t help it,” he says while shrugging his shoulders.
“It’s a shame you aren’t on our team,” he says quietly, and you smile softly, the two of you had talked a lot when he had arrived, and you felt close to him.
“Maybe next time,” you tell him and the boy smiles at the answer before asking you a question and the two of you talk for a moment before you hear a battle cry and see the red team suddenly making their way in the clearing, the blue team also appearing.
Percy and you look at each other with wide eyes before you take out your sword.
“If you don’t say anything about this, I won’t say anything,” Percy nods quickly and the both of you break away from the tree you were behind before joining your team as Percy joins his.
An Apollo girl comes running towards you, but you quickly manage to disarm her, others following behind her, but you are in such a haze that you don’t realize how close you are getting to the flag. That is until you are met with a familiar blade, Luke’s. 
The boy is looking at you, slightly out of breath from the fighting just like you.
“You can always abandon now sweetheart,” he says and can’t help but blush slightly at the familiar nickname. 
“No chance Castellan, give me your worst,” this seems to make the boy laugh before he quickly wields his swords, yours clashing against his in familiar movements. You had fought many times against Luke as he had taught you how to fight but you had a new trick up your sleeve that Clarisse had taught you. She had told you that his left leg was his weakness, a bruise that had never really fully recovered. 
So, when the opportunity presents itself, you wield your sword against his left leg, making sure not to hurt him too much. But as you hit the spot Luke winces in pain and his sword leaves his hand. You don’t think at that point and simply continue straight to the flag, whispering a soft ‘sorry’ as you go to the Hermes boy.
You manage to take the flag before seeing Percy coming towards you with his sword, you expect the hit, but he seems transfixed, looking at something above you. There is a loud silence, on a battlefield that was filled with battle cries just a second ago.
Chiron’s voice suddenly comes up, suddenly saying your name.
“Daughter of Zeus, king of the gods,” the rest of his words are lost as you look up, only to see the symbol of Zeus above your head, your father’s symbol.
You didn’t know how to feel, you had been waiting for so long but now that it was happening you just felt lost. Why was he claiming you right now?
“Congratulations! Seems like we are cousins now,” you suddenly hear Percy say, he has a bright smile on his lips, but there is also sadness in his eyes. It takes you a few seconds to understand why, you were now a child of the big three, which meant your life was about to be a hellhole as Percy had said.
“Always though there was something familiar between the two of us,” you try to say in a teasing tone, but it falls flat, Percy nodding in understanding.
As you turn around to look at the rest of the camp you see Luke looking at you with wide brown eyes, as if he was seeing you for the first time. You turn your gaze towards Clarisse who is looking at you with a proud smile and something else that you can’t quite understand.
There was surely a lot of trouble coming but not the one you were expecting, it would be far more complicated than monsters or a father that decided to appear after fifteen years. Matters of the heart were after all the most complicated of all, particularly between a daughter of Zeus, a daughter of Ares and a son of Hermes. 
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mask131 · 4 months
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The truth about Medusa and her rape... Mythology breakdown time!
With the recent release of the Percy Jackson television series, Tumblr is bursting with mythological posts, and the apparition of Medusa the Gorgon has been the object of numerous talks throughout this website… Including more and more spreading of misinformation, and more debates about what is the “true” version of Medusa’s backstory.
Already let us make that clear: the idea that Medusa was actually “blessed” or “gifted” by Athena her petrifying gaze/snake-hair curse is to my knowledge not at all part of the Antique world. I still do not know exactly where this comes from, but I am aware of no Greek or Roman texts that talked about this – so it seems definitively a modern invention. After all, the figure of Medusa and her entire myth has been taken part, reinterpreted and modified by numerous modern women, feminist activist, feminist movements or artists engaged in the topic of women’s life and social conditions – most notably Medusa becoming the “symbol of raped women’ wrath and fury”. It is an interesting reading and a fascinating update of the ancient texts, and it is a worthy take on its own time and context – but today we are not talking about the posterity, reinvention and continuity of Medusa as a myth and a symbol. I want to clarify some points about the ACTUAL myth or legend of Medusa – the original tale, as told by the Greeks and then by the Romans.
Most specifically the question: Was Medusa raped?
Step 1: Yes, but no.
The backstory of Medusa you will find very often today, ranging from mythology manuals (vulgarization manuals of course) to Youtube videos, goes as such: Medusa was a priestess of Athena who got raped by Poseidon while in Athena’s temple, and as a result of this, Athena punished Medusa by turning her into the monstrous Gorgon.
Some will go even further claiming Athena’s “curse” wasn’t a punishment but a “gift” or blessing – and again, I don’t know where this comes from and nobody seems to be able to give me any reliable source for that, so… Let’s put this out of there.
Now this backstory – famous and popular enough to get into Riodan’s book series for example – is partially true. There are some elements here very wrong – and by wrong I do mean wrong.
The story of Medusa being raped and turned into a monster due to being raped does indeed exist, and it is the most famous and widespread of all the Medusa stories, the one people remembered for the longest time and wrote and illustrated the most about. Hence why Medusa became in the 20th century this very important cultural symbol tied to rape and the abuse of women and victim-blaming. HOWEVER – the origin of this story is Ovid’s Metamorphoses, from the first century CE or so. Ovid? A Roman poet writing for Roman people. “Metamorphoses”? One of the two fundamental works of Roman literature and one of the two main texts of Roman mythology, alongside Virgil’s Aeneid. This is a purely Roman story belonging to the Roman culture – and not the Greek one. The story of Medusa’s rape does not have Greek precedents to my knowledge, Ovid introduced the element of rape – which is no surprise given Ovid turned half of the romances of Greek mythology into rapes. Note that, on top of all this, Ovid wasn’t even writing for religious purposes, nor was his text an actual mythological effort – he wrote it with pure literary intentions at heart. It is just a piece of poetry and literature taking inspiration from the legends of the Greek world, not some sort of sacred text.
Second big point: The legend I summarized above? It isn’t even the story Ovid wrote, since there are a lot of elements that do not come from Ovid’s retelling of the story (book fourth of the Metamorphoses). For example Ovid never said Medusa was a priestess of Athena – all he said was that she was raped in the temple of Athena. I shouldn’t even be writing Athena since again, this is a Roman text: we are speaking of Minerva here, and of Neptune, not of Athena or Poseidon. Similarly, Minerva’s curse did not involve the petrifying gaze – rather all Ovid wrote about was that Minerva turned Medusa’s hair into snakes, to “punish” her because her hair were very beautiful, and it was what made her have many suitors (none of which she wanted to marry apparently), and it is also implied it is what made Neptune fall in love (or rather fall in lust) with her. I guess it is from this detail that the reading of “Athena’s curse was a gift” comes from – even though this story also clearly does victim-blaming of rape here.
But what is very fascinating is that… we are not definitively sure Neptune raped Medusa in Ovid’s retelling. For sure, the terms used by Ovid in his fourth book of Metamorphoses are clear: this was an action of violating, sexually assaulting, of soiling and corrupting, we are talking about rape. But Ovid refers several other times to Medusa in his other books, sometimes adding details the fourth-book stories does not have (the sixth book for examples evokes how Neptune turned into a bird to seduce Medusa, which is completely absent from the fourth book’s retelling of Medusa’ curse). And in all those other mentions, the terms to designate the relationship between Medusa and Neptune are more ambiguous, evoking seduction and romance rather than physical or sexual assault. (It does not help that Ovid has an habit of constantly confusing consensual and non-consensual sex in his poems, meaning that a rape in one book can turn into a romance in another, or reversal)
But the latter fact makes more sense when you recall that the rape element was invented and added by Ovid. Before, yes Poseidon and Medusa loved each other, but it was a pure romance, or at least a consensual one-night. Heck, if we go back to the oldest records of the love between Poseidon and Medusa, back in Hesiod’s Theogony, we have descriptions of the two of them laying together in a beautiful, flowery meadow – a stereotypical scene of pastoral romances – with no mention of any brutality or violence of any sort. As a result, it makes sense the original “romantic” story would still “leak” or cast a shadow over Ovid’s reinvented and slightly-confused tale.
Step 2: So… no rape?
Well, if we go by Greek texts, no, apparently Medusa was not raped in Greek mythology, and only became a rape victim through Ovid.
The Ancient Greek texts all record Poseidon and Medusa sleeping with each other and having children, but no mention of rape. And the whole “curse of Athena” thing is not present in the oldest records – no temple of Athena soiling, no angry Athena cursing a poor girl… “No curse?” you say “But then how did Medusa got turned into a Gorgon”? Answer: she did not. She was born like that.
As I said before, the oldest record of Medusa’s romance but also of her family comes from Hesiod’s Theogony (Hesiod being one of the two “founding authors” of Greek mythology, alongside Homer – Homer did wrote several times about Medusa, but only as a disembodied head and as a monster already dead, so we don’t have any information about her life). And what do we learn? That Medusa is part of a set of three sisters known as the Gorgons – because oh yes, Ovid did not mention Medusa’s sister now did he? How did Medusa’s sisters ALSO got snake-hair or petrifying-gaze if only Medusa was cursed for sleeping with Neptune? Ovid does not give us any answer because again, it is an “adaptational plot hole”, and the people that try to adapt Ovid’s story have to deal with the slight problem of Stheno and Euryale needing to share their sister’s curse despite seemingly not being involved in the whole Neptune business. Anyway, back to the Greek text.
So, you have those three Gorgon sisters, and Medusa is said to be mortal while her sisters are not. Why is it such a big deal? Because Medusa wasn’t originally some random human or priestess. Oh no! Who were the Gorgons’ parents? Phorcys and Keto/Ceto, aka two sea-gods. Not just two sea-gods – two sea-gods of the ancient, primordial generation of sea-gods, the one that predated Poseidon, and that were cousins to the Titans, the sea-gods born of Gaia mating with Pontos.
So the Gorgons were “divine” of nature – and this is why Medusa being a mortal was considered to be a MASSIVE problem and handicap for her, an abnormal thing for the daughter of two deities. But let’s dig a bit further… Who were Phorcys and Ceto? Long story short: in Greek mythology, they were considered to be sea-equivalents of Typhon and Gaia. They were the parents of many monsters and many sea-horrors: Keto/Ceto herself had her name attributed and equated with any very large creature (like whales) or any terrifying monster (like dragons) from the sea. The Gorgons themselves was a trio of monsters, but their sisters, that directly act as their double in the myth of Perseus? The Graiai – the monstrous trio of old women sharing one eye and one tooth. Hesiod also drops the fact that Ladon (the dragon that guarded the golden apples of the Hesperids), and Echidna (the snake-woman that mated with Typhon and became known as the “mother of monsters”) were also children of Phorcys and Ceto, while other authors will add other monster-related characters such as Scylla (of Charybdis and Scylla fame), the sirens, or Thoosa (the mother of Polyphemus the cyclop). Medusa herself is technically a “mother of monsters” since she birthed both Pegasus the flying horse and Chrysaor, a giant. So here is something very important to get: Medusa, and the Gorgons, were part of a family of monsters. Couple that with the absence of any mention of curses in these ancient texts, and everything is clear.
Originally Medusa was not a woman cursed to become a monster: she was born a monster, part of a group of monster siblings, birthed by monster-creating deities, and she belonged to the world of the “primordial abominations from the sea”, and the pre-Olympian threats, the remnants of the primordial chaos. It is no surprise that the Gorgons were said to live at the edge of the very known world, in the last patch of land before the end of the universe – in the most inhuman, primitive and liminal area possible. They were full-on monsters!
Now you might ask why Poseidon would sleep with a horrible monster, especially when you recall that the Greeks loved to depict the Gorgons as truly bizarre and grotesque. It wasn’t just snake-hair and petrifying gaze: they had boar tusks, and metallic claws, and bloated eyes, and a long tongue that constantly hanged down their bearded chin, and very large heads – some very old depictions even show her with a female centaur body! In fact, the ancient texts imply that it wasn’t so much the Gorgon’s gaze or eyes that had the power to turn people into stone – but that rather the Gorgon was just so hideous and so terrifying to look at people froze in terror – and then literally turned into stone out of fear and disgust. We are talking Lovecraftian level of eldritch horror here. So why would Poseidon, an Olympian god, sleep with one of these horrors? Well… If you know your Poseidon it wouldn’t surprise you too much because Poseidon had a thing for monsters. As a sort of “dark double” of Zeus, whereas Zeus fell in love with beautiful princesses and noble queens and birthed great gods and brave heroes, Poseidon was more about getting freaky with all sorts of unusual and bizarre goddesses, and giving birth to bandits and monsters. A good chunk of the villains of Greek mythology were born out of Poseidon’s loins: Polyphemus, Antaios, Orion, Charybdis, the Aloads… And even his most benevolent offspring has freaky stuff about it – Proteus the shapeshifter or Triton half-man half-fish… So yes, Poseidon sleeping with an abominable Gorgon is not so much out of character.
Step 3: The missing link
Now that we established what Medusa started out as, and what she ended up as… We need to evoke the evolution from point Hesiod to point Ovid, because while people summarized the Medusa debate as “Sea-born monster VS raped and punished woman”, there is a third element needed to understand this whole situation…
Yes Ovid did invent the rape. But he did not invent the idea that Medusa had been cursed by Athena.
The “gorgoneion” – the visual and artistic motif of the Gorgon’s head – was, as I said, a grotesque and monstrous face used to invoke fright into the enemies or to repel any vile influence or wicked spirit by the principle of “What’s the best way to repel bad stuff? Badder stuff”. Your Gorgon was your gargoyle, with all the hideous traits I described before – represented in front (unlike all the other side-portraits of gods and heroes), with the face being very large and flat, a big tongue out of a tusked-mouth, snake-hair, bulging crazy eyes, sometimes a beard or scales… Pure monster. But then… from the fifth century BCE to the second century BCE we see a slow evolution of the “gorgoneion” in art. Slowly the grotesque elements disappear, and the Gorgon’s face becomes… a regular, human face. Even more: it even becomes a pretty woman’s face! But with snakes instead of hair. As such, the idea that Medusa was a gorgeous woman who just had snakes and cursed-eyes DOES come from Ancient Greece – and existed well before Ovid wrote his rape story.
But what was the reason behind this change?
Well, we have to look at the Roman era again. Ovid’s tale of Medusa being cursed for her rape at the hands of Neptune had to rival with another record collected by a Greek author Apollodorus, or Pseudo-Apollodorus, in his Bibliotheca. In this collection of Greek myths, Apollodorus writes that indeed, Medusa was cursed by Athena to have her beautiful hair that seduced everybody be turned into snakes… But it wasn’t because of any rape or forbidden romance, no. It was just because Medusa was a very vain woman who liked to brag about her beauty and hair – and had the foolish idea of saying her hair looked better than Athena’s. (If you recall tales such as Arachne’s or the Judgement of Paris, you will know that despite Athena being wise and clever, one of her main flaws is her vanity).
“Wait a minute,” you are going to tell me, “The Bibliotheca was created in the second century CE! Well after Greece became part of the Roman Empire, and after Ovid’s Metamorphoses became a huge success! It isn’t a true Greek myth, it is just Ovid’s tale being projected here…” And people did agree for a time… Until it was discovered, in the scholias placed around the texts of Apollonios of Rhodes, that an author of the fifth century BCE named Pherecyde HAD recorded in his time a version of Medusa’s legend where she had been cursed into becoming an ugly monster as punishment for her vanity. We apparently do not have the original text of Pherecyde, but the many scholias referring to this lost piece are very clear about this. This means that the story that Apollodorus recorded isn’t a “novelty”, but rather the latest record of an older tradition going back to the fifth century BCE… THE SAME CENTURY THAT THE GORGONEION STARTED LOSING THEIR GROTESQUE, and that the face of Medusa started becoming more human in art.
[EDIT: I also forgot to add that this evolution of Medusa is also proved by strange literary elements, such as Pindar's mention in a poem of his (around 490 BCE) of "fair-cheeked Medusa". A description which seems strange given how Medusa used to be depicted as the epitome of ugliness... But that makes sense if the "cursed beauty" version of the myth had been going around at the time!]
And thus it is all connected and explained. Ovid did invent the rape yes – but he did not invent the idea of Athena cursing Medusa. It pre-existed as the most “recent” and dominating legend in Ancient Greece, having overshadowed by Ovid’s time the oldest Hesiodic records of Medusa being born a monster. So what Ovid did wasn’t completely create a new story out of nowhere, but twist the Greek traditions of Athena cursing Medusa and Medusa having a relationship with Poseidon, so that the two legends would form one and same story. And this explains in retrospect why Ovid focuses so much on describing Medusa’s beautiful hair, and why Ovid’s Minerva would think turning her hair into snake would be a “punishment fit for the crime”: these are leftovers of the Greek tale where Medusa was punished for her boasting and her vanity.
CONCLUSION
Here is the simplified chronology of how Medusa’s evolution went.
A) Primitive Greek myths, Hesiodic tradition: Born a monster out of a family of sea-monsters and monstrous immortals. Is a grotesque, gargoylesque, eldritch abomination. Athena has only an indirect conflict with her, due to being Perseus’ “fairy godmother”. Has a lovely romance with Poseidon.
B) Slow evolution throughout Classical Greece and further: Medusa becomes a beautiful, human-looking girl that was cursed to have snake for hair and petrifying eyes, instead of being a Lovecraftian horror people could not gaze upon. Her conflict with Athena becomes direct, as it is Athena that cursed her due to being offended by her vain boasting. Her punishment is for her vanity and arrogant comparison to the goddess.
C) Ovid comes in: Medusa’s romance with Poseidon becomes a rape, and she is now punished for having been raped inside Athena’s temple.
[As a final note, I want to insist upon the fact that the story of Medusa being raped is not less "worthy" than any other version of the myth. Due to its enormous popularity, how it shaped the figure of Medusa throughout the centuries, and how it still survives today and echoes current-day problems, to try to deny the valid place of this story in the world of myths and legends would be foolish. HOWEVER it is important to place back things in their context, to recognize that it is not the ONLY tale of Medusa, that it was NOT part of Greek mythology, but rather of Roman legends - and let us all always remember this time Poseidon slept with a Lovecraftian horror because my guy is kinky.]
EDIT:
For illustration, I will place here visuals showing how the Ancient art evolved alongside Medusa's story.
Before the 5th century BCE: Medusa is a full-on monster
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From the 5th century to the 2nd century BCE: A slow evolution as Medusa goes from a full-on monster to a human turned into a monster. As a result the two depictions of the grotesque and beautiful gorgoneion coexist.
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Post 2nd century BCE: Medusa is now a human with snake hair, and just that
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gracieheartspedro · 3 months
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Your Needs, My Needs
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THE PRELUDE
a masterlist of how you can help gaza
pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)
description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.
word count: 3.7k words
warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao
author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!
“Sign here and she’s all yours.”
When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 
While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 
She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 
The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 
Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 
You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 
You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.
It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 
You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 
You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 
The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 
Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 
In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 
You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 
You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 
Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”
The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 
Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.
You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 
-
When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 
You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 
A hot cowboy saved your life. 
It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 
You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 
“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”
She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”
You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 
“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”
“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”
The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 
You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”
“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”
You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 
You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 
When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 
You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 
“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”
You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 
You needed your furniture, after all. 
It will be okay, you tell yourself. 
“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”
“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”
You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”
You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 
The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 
Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 
It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.
You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 
He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 
He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 
“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”
You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.
You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 
“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”
The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 
“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”
You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.
“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.
You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 
He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”
“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 
You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 
“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”
You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”
“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”
You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”
“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”
You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”
“Well, what have you tried doin’?”
You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.
“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”
He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 
“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.
“What Texas or this bathroom?”
He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 
“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 
You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 
“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 
You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 
“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”
“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”
You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 
He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”
“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”
He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”
-
His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 
“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”
You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 
You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.
While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 
You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.
“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 
“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 
“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”
He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”
Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 
He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 
“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”
You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 
You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 
“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”
“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”
You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 
“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 
“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 
You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”
They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 
He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.
“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”
Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”
Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”
You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 
You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 
He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 
“Somethin’ wrong?”
You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.
“N-no, everything is okay.”
“Don’t look it.”
“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”
Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 
“O-oh okay.”
“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”
You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.
  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”
PART 1 COMING SOON!
taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon
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beardedjoel · 4 months
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pretty little wife | sorry, baby
joel miller x f!reader one shot collection
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series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 4k words. Joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. His pretty little wife makes it all better. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, free use kink, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship (!! yes), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, pet names for reader, sir kink making a reappearance, bit of fluff mixed in, mention of food/eating, @ GOD WHY ISNT THIS ME a/n: I'M BACK. these two sick lovebirds are back 😭 i needed something sweet to write while working on smother so here's some cute domestic sucking and fucking from my favorite couple MWAH reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!
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Gonna be late again. Sorry baby.
Joel’s hurried text had pinged your phone a few hours ago, and you reassured him it was no problem, of course. You know that his company is contracting on a huge project in downtown Austin right now, and it required a lot of Joel’s attention. He’d been giving so much you were surprised that he had anything left in the tank when he came home to you. But by god, so many nights he sure did, coming home in a frenzy to fuck you, taste you, finding you where you were when he arrived home - cleaning up dishes from dinner, the shower, already curled up in bed with a book on one particularly late night.
You relished in him releasing everything into you - the stress of his day instantly melting with a simple touch of his lips to yours, drinking in your curves and soft skin with rough hands and frenzied yet controlled movements. It always seemed like the more stressed he was, the more he couldn’t get his cock in you fast enough, the more relentless he was in the ways he took care of you. He’d leave you spent, dripping, and aching, letting you talk softly about your day as he stroked your hair afterwards, all sweetness and hushed tones until you two fell asleep.
You peer into the living room from the kitchen to see Joel walking in, looking generally askew and you frown. When his shoes are yanked off and placed in the closet he looks up to see you leaning on the doorframe, lips full and pouting, finger sticking up with a patch of cookie dough stuck to it to taste test. You stand in a long, threadbare t-shirt of his and pink cotton panties, just what Joel had set out for you this morning, and he makes sure to thank his past self for such a wise choice this morning. You’d laughed at the lack of bra or any kind of pants, knowing it was no accident you’d ended up dressed without any bottoms on today. You aim to please, and the look Joel gives you whenever he sees you exactly how he envisioned you for the day always makes your heart soar a little higher. 
He finds his way to the couch, sprawling out and giving you an exhausted look. You stick the errant finger into your mouth, sucking the sweet, sugary cookie dough off and licking your lips. Joel’s expression changes quickly, his interest clearly sparked, but the wearisome look doesn’t leave his eyes. 
“Baby?” you ask, your brows furrowing further with worry. This wasn’t your husband, this wasn’t Joel, and you always hate to see him have a tough day. It makes your heart ache when he works too hard, gives too much of himself and winds up burnt out. You certainly don’t mind making it all better for him, that’s what you’re here for, after all, but it pains you nonetheless.
“C’mon over here, little wife,” Joel murmurs, running a hand down his weary face. When he pulls it away, he gazes at you with heavy lids before propping his hands behind his head. 
You saunter over to him, standing next to where he lays and reaching down to graze your fingers over his stretched bicep, trailing it inwards towards his face. He hums, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment and enjoying the way your gentle fingers work across his cheekbones and through his beard. 
His hand slowly moves from behind his head to curve around your waist, drawing you nearer, the front of your knees hitting the side of the couch cushions now. His silent signals are obvious to you at this point, so you don’t waste a moment swinging your leg around his body, tucking it in between his thigh and the back of the couch, settling in to straddle him. A hand runs gently down his chest as you tilt your head, studying his face in concern. 
“What’s my husband need from me?” you ask quietly, letting your other hand bury itself in his curls, scratching at his scalp. 
Joel lets out a pleasured groan, nearly shuddering at the feeling. “Fuck, baby.” You feel his body shift underneath you, already squirming with the sensation of your fingers doing their work on him. “Make me feel good.” 
“Let’s get you more comfortable, then,” you coo, fingers already moving on the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of the top few to let his chest breathe a little bit. You take only a beat to admire the top of his chest poking out, curls of hair sticking out wild and messy before getting to work. You slither down his body, giving yourself enough room to undo his belt before pulling it out of its loops and tossing it aside. 
“Lift, please,” you say, keeping up your gentle, soothing tone as Joel’s hips lift off the couch and allow you the space to pull down his dress pants, wriggling them down to his ankles and then over his feet. “Now that’s better, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” Joel answers, a pleasant little hum from the back of his throat. You can feel how your ministrations have already gotten him hard as it brushes against your center when you settle back on top of his hips. A brief tease of your hips swirling on his sends Joel’s twitching, a sly little smile flashing on his lips. But you’re gone an instant later, moving down the couch and settling next to his feet, sitting crossed legged to face them before taking one into your lap. 
“What’s this, now?” Joel asks, a slight tiredness to his voice now. 
“Ever heard of a foot rub?” you reply with a lifted brow. He chuckles and you watch his body rumble with the sound. 
“Givin’ me mouth today, are we?” he asks playfully, the tired laughter still fading off as he speaks. 
“I could,” you retort, pursing your lips and looking up from his feet to find his eyes peeking open, looking down at your delicate, innocuous smile with a plethora of hidden meaning behind it. 
“Such a dirty girl…” he murmurs, neatly cut off by the groan he lets out when you press in on one of his arches with your thumb.
“See? I know what you need, baby,” you coo, working your fingers into the tender spots on his foot, being sure to use just the right amount of pressure. You prop his foot in your lap, letting it hang there as you gently rotate his ankle, loosening everything up. 
“Christ,” he breathes out as you start on the other foot. His breathing is a little labored, pain and pleasure mixing together as you continue to help his weary soles. You work each foot until he sighs contentedly, a good sign that your work is finished. 
At least on his feet, that is. You run your hands teasingly up his thighs, settling them on his hips as you work your way back up his body, hips straddling his again. You lean down and brush your lips against his neck, peering up to watch Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs again. The sound is music to your ears, anytime your husband makes that content, soft little sound you think you’ve reached heaven. You suck and flick little patches all over his neck, starting a slow, steady grind of your hips. 
“Oh, pretty girl,” Joel starts, landing a firm hand along your hip. “I can’t today… I’m so fuckin’ beat. You know I’d give anything to fuck my cock into you…” He murmurs the words with a hint of frustration. You know this is hitting Joel harder than he’s letting on, seeing as his singularly focused task most days is to find a way to get himself inside of you.
“Who said anything about you fucking me?” you ask slyly, hands hooking into the sides of his briefs. You watch as Joel’s eyes pop open and look at you mischievously. “You said to make you feel good, so that’s what I’m doing, my darling.” You keep your tone even and calming as you continue with your teasing, deft fingers playing under his waistband. 
Joel’s smirk grows and he reaches a hand up to gently pet the back of your head before pulling you to his face, kissing you deeply. “Good girl,” he says as he pulls away, the words falling right onto your own lips. “Doin’ as you’re told.”
You slink lower, getting to the spot you know excites him the most, straddling lower on his legs to bring your mouth down to his clothed cock. You plant small kisses along the obvious bulge and Joel reacts immediately with a small hiss through his teeth. You kiss and lick and suck, letting the fabric tamp enough of the pleasure to drive him crazy. 
“God damn it…” he grunts quietly, hips shifting as they spasm up towards your mouth when you suck another spot on the fabric, taking your sweet time, only a small form of torture for Joel. “You tryna make me ask you to pull my cock out and get your pretty mouth on it? Cause you know, once I’m not dead on m’feet I might have to punish you ‘f that’s the case.” His words tumble out slow and thick with his accent - that Southern drawl always comes out more when he’s tired and mumbling.
Your mouth curls deviously and you lick your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply in a low lilt. 
“Mhm…” Joel teases, but you heed his warning anyhow, tugging his briefs down to free his cock, nearly enraged as it throbs and drips precum from the way you’d already been working on it. Your tongue finds the salty fluid at his head, lapping it with just the tip of your tongue and swirling it around. You start to practically nuzzle it, catching his cock in the corners of your lips, letting your tongue get a few tiny kitten licks on his shaft as you rub it along your cheeks. The smooth skin glides along your face and you start to get messier with it, letting his cock start to spread his precum and your saliva along your cheeks as you let the flat of your tongue run along it.
Joel lets out a loud, long groan, fingers gripping deep into the couch cushion. He can barely contain himself as your tongue licks a thick stripe up underneath his length, tracing the most prominent vein. His hips stutter forward as he gives himself to the moment. 
“God damn, honey…” he whimpers quietly, eyes shutting in the bliss of the moment.
Your hands rub his thighs gently, kneading into them as you start to bob your head on his cock, taking a little more each time until he’s at the back of your throat. You fight the urge to gag, a little noise coming out of you, sending Joel’s hand flying to the back of your head, his gaze watching the way his cock disappears inside of your warm mouth.
“That’s it, choke on it like I like, pretty girl…” Joel mumbles, eyes rolling back a little as his cock fills your mouth. “My pretty wife…” he whispers with a reverence and respect, despite the degrading way he’s about to fuck your mouth.
You move with a little more urgency, your mouth stuffed and aching already, one hand coming up to grip the base of Joel’s cock and stroking there while your mouth works on him. Joel’s hand pushes down on your head, sending you a little further and you sputter, spit flying all around his cock and lap but it doesn’t deter you. His hips start to move of their own accord into you, matching the rhythm of your mouth pumping on him. Your body gets hot and desperate for him, your praise loving nature alight just by seeing how much he loves the way you pleasure him. Your thighs wriggle as your cunt aches and drips now, begging you for relief that you know will have to wait.
“God, fuck,” he cries out, “Needed this…” Joel seems to be practically revived, a new energy filling his weary body as he grunts and pants, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in faster strokes now. You can sense how close he is, you know your husband’s body like the back of your hand now, his balls tightening and cock getting even harder on your tongue.
He grunts with the effort of sitting forward, yanking your head off of his cock and swiftly sliding his hands to your waist, hauling your entire body upwards so that your hips are above his. 
“Need this needy little cunt, look how soaked you are,” Joel coos with a genuine pity for you as he sees the wet stain on your panties.. His fingers tear your underwear to the side, giving enough room for his cock to position itself at your weeping entrance, giving you no time to even process it before he forces your hips to bear down on him.
You cry out in a long, wanting moan as he fills you up, the stretch of him burning in that familiar way that you love and crave so much. Joel is an addiction - your husband the one thing in life you could never get enough of, never filling you enough, never fucking you full and deep enough times that you’re fulfilled. He never fails to leave you satisfied, of course, but you’re always wanting more in the next moment, practically wishing you could live just like this - his cock stuffing you and stretching your pussy to its limits, sending that pain you live for deep inside of you until it turns to the most blinding pleasure. Gratitude overtakes you as you sink down completely, whispering out a fervent thank you as you feel yourself clench around him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Joel reaches to your chin, pulling your head to look down at him. 
“What was that?” he asks teasingly, rutting his hips up into your as he speaks. You shudder again, pussy clenching around him as you feel his length pressing against your walls.
“T-thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, sir…” You’re unable to say anything else, only look at him with half-lidded eyes and cry out wantonly when he pushes all the way in again, seating himself inside of you only to lift your hips up and do it all over again.
“Yeah… knew bein’ stuffed full of my cock would make you my polite girl again,” Joel says arrogantly, sending a fresh wave of arousal right between your legs, gushing around his girth. You nod, blinking down at him, rolling your hips and chasing your pleasure. You lean down a little closer to Joel, bringing your chest more flush with his, the change in angle devastating the both of you. 
“So fuckin’ full of me,” Joel whispers in your ear, taking it upon himself to bend his legs and start fucking up into you. You moan in his ear, tears springing to your eyes as you feel him close to your cervix, each deep thrust sinfully delicious and bordering on painful in the way that makes your skin tingle in the best way. You want to be used, you want him as deep as he can possibly go, to feel you entirely wrapped around him.
Joel grunts, hot breath fanning next to your ear as he holds you close. Your bodies are intermingling with sweat now, your ass slapping down onto his thighs reverberating through the quiet living room. It’s just this - the two of you, your shared breath, your intertwined bodies, nothing else matters or even registers to you now. Joel’s hips shift the slightest bit in angle and you cry out, your g-spot now overstimulated with attention as Joel’s cock pounds into you harder, brushing the spongy spot with each new movement into you.
You pant, clutching onto him and digging your manicured nails into his shoulder, scratching them along to his neck where you hang on for dear life.
“Fuck…” you murmur, feeling your body tensing, legs like jello as they shake on either side of Joel’s thighs. “Let me come, p-please, sir,” you whimper, holding back with every ounce of strength you have as the tingling warmth spreads, heat in your belly threatening to burst at any second.
“Hang on f’me, baby, fuck, n-not yet,” Joel replies in a huff, clearly close to that high himself. “Wanna fill you up right when you’re comin’ so pretty f’me.”
You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, holding back as your body screams at you with need. This wasn’t the first time Joel had you hold back your climax, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it never got any easier. You whimper, nearing a sob as Joel thrusts into you, your hips rolling and stuttering into his movements. “Please… sir…” you cry.
Joel grunts out a stern no and continues to slam his hips into yours, growing harsher by the second. You’re a whimpering wreck, your body nearly about to betray you as Joel hits your g-spot again. Tears leak from your eyes with the psychological effort of holding back, but you know it’ll be worth it. It always is.
“Now,” Joel says simply, “Come for me, little doll,” he adds, finishing the sentence with a grunt as you start to lose control, feeling like a dam inside of you is bursting, all the pleasure rolling over you in dazzling waves. You flutter around Joel’s cock almost as hard as you ever have, squeezing his length as he lets out a small whimper himself. Your breathy moans right in his ear send goosebumps along his whole body despite how stifling the air is surrounding you two.
“Fuck…” he moans, his hips jerking a few times before he starts to spill himself into you. You continue to shake, pulling every last drop from him as you ride out your own high, Joel’s name rolling off your tongue as you moan.
“God, yeah…” you whimper out, finally collapsing onto Joel’s chest as his legs go limp underneath you. You both lay in silence, chests heaving and small smiles on your faces. Joel strokes the back of your head and your smile grows. Neither of you seem set on moving, the combination of both of your climaxes a slick mess between the two of you as you settle into a more steady rhythm of breathing.
“Mmm…” Joel mumbles out the noise. “How’s my pretty little wife today, hm?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing down your cheeks to your lips.
“You’re late to ask,” you tease him with a laugh, typically hearing that question before anything else when he gets home. He uses his free hand to squeeze your ass cheek in warning at your bratiness and you grin. “But better now,” you answer in the familiar response to your favorite question from him.
“Thought so,” Joel says wryly, giving you ass a lazy pat before kissing the side of your head. He’s quiet for a few moments before lifting your hips off of his, your body immediately missing the sweet fullness of him as you both sit up. Joel brings your legs over his and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling like the most natural fit in the world. 
“‘M sorry about all this, baby - all the late nights and bein’ stressed and probably bein’ a grouch,” Joel says, his voice laden with guilt. He circles on your bare thigh with his fingers and you shudder a little, snuggling further into him. One of your hands wraps around his cheek, turning his head to meet your eye line and you give him a soft smile.
“You think you just now started being a grouch?” you joke, knowing you’re pushing your limits on how much bratiness Joel will tolerate in one day before things escalate.
He growls deep in his throat and you giggle softly, scratching your fingers through his hair. “Thin ice, baby…” he murmurs.
“I love my grumpy husband,” you say sweetly, fingers moving down to run through his rough beard. “It’s okay though, Joel. Promise. I just miss you, but this busy and crazy time will pass like it always does, right? In the mean time...” you lower your voice, a finger trailing from his cheek to his neck and down his chest. “We can just do that anytime you need it.” 
Joel chuckles, giving your entire body a squeeze against him. “That’s my good girl. Always ready f’me.” You smile into his chest at his praise before he continues. “We’ll do somethin’ this weekend, the two of us an’ spend some time together, mkay? Make up for all this bullshit.”
You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest and your stomach flutter a little at the idea. Joel has typically been pretty good about planning dates over the years, but you know that it’s been hard with his extra workload lately, so you’ve been missing the romantic evenings he’d plan for you two. You’d tried to ask about planning one yourself, and Joel shut you down immediately in the sweetest way possible, claiming the responsibility fully for himself to do that for you.
“Ooh, yes please,” you reply excitedly, hugging him close.  
“‘S a date then,” Joel confirms, leaning his head back onto the couch while you stay resting on his shoulder. You both fall into a comfortable quiet again, Joel’s breathing steadying as he dozes off. 
“Do you want a cookie?” you ask into the silence, sitting up. Joel’s eyes creak open from where he’d been resting them and he glances down at you with furrowed brows. 
“That s’posed to be some kind of euphemism, darlin’?” he asks groggily. You laugh, throwing your head back a little and shuffling yourself to sit up on the edge of the couch. 
“Could be,” you giggle, “Real cookies this time, though. You can even sneak one before dinner.” 
Joel perks up a little, eyes opening a bit more. “Chocolate chip?” he asks, a boyish glint in his gaze. 
“Of course,” you nod, and Joel smiles tiredly, sitting up to join you on the edge of the couch. 
“You know you’re the best wife?” Joel says, nudging you with his shoulder and leaning over for a quick peck on your cheek before standing up and pulling his pants back on. He moans and groans while he twists his back and stretches his arms over his head for a few moments, and you know his knees must be flaring up as they do when he’s more stressed.
“Just one,” you warn Joel as you see him making his way to the kitchen trying to look like some kind of master sleuther on the hunt for fresh baked cookies. “I’m making dinner soon.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joel tosses over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. When you make your way to the kitchen, you watch him take a bite off of a cookie from the cooling rack and you stand with crossed arms, admiring him. His eyes look you up and down with a similar appreciation, landing between your legs where he sees your underwear completely soaked and stained from your recent rendezvous. He smirks as he chews, stepping towards you. 
“An’ don’t you dare think about changing your underwear,” he says in a low rumble, eyes flicking all over your face as he gets close to read if you’re going to keep up your bratty streak today. Instead, you give him a docile little upturn of your lips - he’s been through enough today - and brush past him to start working on dinner. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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corroded-hellfire · 5 months
Note
My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚
Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕
Words: 1.5k
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Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.
Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.
“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”
The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 
“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”
The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.
“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.
Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 
“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 
Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?
“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 
“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”
“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”
“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”
“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.
“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.
“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”
Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 
Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 
Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 
You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.
Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 
“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”
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Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.
“Uh, hey.”
The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 
Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 
“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”
“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”
The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 
“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 
“I am.”
“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”
The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.
“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.
“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.
“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.
“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 
“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”
“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”
“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”
“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”
“Right,” you say. 
Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 
“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 
“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”
A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 
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m-ayo-o · 5 months
Text
jjk char reactions;
"hey baby, welcome home, what have you eaten today?"
"not much" :(
very hungry reader had no time to eat all day! fluffy + crack ish. just the main guys. older yuji + megumi. reader likes a lil spicy food. toji + megumi had some kind of relationship. soft sukuna [suggestive right at the end]
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satoru gojo
totally overreacts
he'd find it amusing at first, seeing your pouty, hangry face
he will tease and goad you for being so hungry, with numerous belly pokes and cheek squeezes and saying you look cute like this
he'll pause his blabbering just to hear your tummy rumble and gurgle so he can laugh at you some more
after he's eventually finished mocking you and realises just how hungry you are, he'll pat your head and offer to get you something yummy
proceeds to teleport all over the city to collect your favourite dishes from numerous restaurants
comes home with way too much food, all packaged up in fancy boxes and bags- he can barely carry them all
of course, he got his favourites too- eats with you till you're stuffed
"You had THAT??? All day? Angel, baby, how did you survive? Aww, baby's so hungry she can't even fight back. Oh! You really are- oh, you can't stand up? Ok, just sit down here let me get your favourites. Just tell me what you need, I can get anything you want."
nanami kento
gets slightly annoyed then proceeds to mother you like you're his baby chick
he gets a bit worried; he really cares about you and needs to know you're looking after yourself
if not, he will do it for you
he will get out his cook books, have you flick through them and make a choice for your starter, main and dessert
he'll sit you on the kitchen counter while he makes the most wholesome home cooked meal, that he proceeds to serve beautifully !!!
oh, and of course, he won't be letting you feed yourself ever again- starting from tonight
he'll be taking the food to your mouth himself, just to make sure you eat it all
"That's irresponsible, honey. I can go back to making you packed lunches if you want? It really wasn't that much hassle. Ok, right, we can talk about that later. Just sit up here- yep, good girl. We have lots of fresh ingredients so just tell me whatever you want. Oh, you like my cooking? Good, well let me take care of you."
suguru geto
he's endlessly patient with you
like kento, he will be mothering you <3
he asks what exactly you've eaten in the day while stroking your belly gently
he presses sympathetic kisses to your forehead in the hopes to wipe that miserable expression off your face
of course, it works, and he takes your hand and guides you to the living room
he'll lay you down on the sofa, bring you your favourite drink and get you cosy and comfortable
he'll give you one more kiss before leaving for the kitchen
he puts on his apron and waits on you like you're his damn goddess
"Baby, come here, you've got all hangry now. Come on, I need to see your pretty face smiling ok, don't look so grumpy. Just take my hand, yeah come here. Just sit tight, I'll make your favourites, ok? Mm, does that sound good? Ok, good girl, just wait here for me."
toji fushiguro
condescending, belittling, bit mean
but still gives you the goods... eventually puts on his 'best dad' apron that Megumi got him as a joke but he secretly loves it
spanks your ass for banter but nearly makes you fall over
picks you up over his shoulder when he realises what kind of state you're in
plonks you on the sofa and strolls to the kitchen
he's not rushing around for you, he doesn't show you much sympathy in his words- but the food he gives you... says it all
places a little kiss on your cheek and tells you to enjoy the meal (it's so much that you will be full for all of tomorrow as well)
"What? That's nothing, doll. What's up with you? You didn't have any cash? No time, huh. 'kay, well since you're too dumb to prepare food for the day yourself guess I'll have to do it now, hm. Jesus- 'soon as one kid grows up and moves out, looks like I've got myself another one huh? Right, you're not my girl. And I'm not your daddy?"
megumi fushiguro
acts as though it's not his problem- which it really isn't but you're feeling so needy that you just want him to buckle this once and show you some sympathy
you have to spell it out for him that you want him to help you
but once he understands that you want him to take care of you, he feels this odd sense of pride that you're asking
and of course, you've tasted his cooking before- he's amazing and you'd love to encourage him to do it more often
he knows what you like already, so he just cooks in silence and serves you the most delicious meal, filled with all the right spices
it doesn't blow your head off, but gets your tongue tingling in the most satisfying way
once you're done he tidies up immediately and asks if everything was alright
feels more relaxed now you've got everything you need- curls up on the sofa with you and snuggles all night
reminds you to eat well by text every day from now on
"Uh huh. Right. Are you going to make something then? What are you looking at? Oh, you want me to do it? Uh, ok, sure. I suppose I'm not too bad at cooking. Good, I'm glad you liked it. Sure, I can cook for you more often."
yuji itadori
like satoru, flaps around and overreacts like crazy
accidentally makes it worse by talking about all the delicious foods he'd like to eat right now if he were hungry
apologises profusely when he hears your belly rumble and immediately offers to buy you take out
starts to feel sorry that you've had such a hectic day that you couldn't even eat properly
carries you to the sofa like you're his princess and lays you down there with your favourite show on tv
shows you lots of affection and sympathy <3
sits with you and gives you little kisses till your food arrives
"What!!! I can't even imagine how hungry I'd be if that's all I ate! Are you kidding??? That's crazy, there are so many yummy places to eat out there sweetie, you couldn't choose or something? No, oh you just didn't have enough time? Oh wow, you must've been so busy baby, let me order something for you right away!!"
ryomen sukuna
he'd act like the most annoying dad at first
proceeds to chastise you like you're some kind of idiot for not being able to get a good meal all day long
teases you for what feels like an eternity, making shitty jokes about how many mouths he has to feed
finally lets up when you get on your knees on the kitchen floor to start raiding the cupboards
picks you up and you cling to him like a lil baby monkey, trying to kiss his tattooed face when he sets you on the sofa surprisingly lovingly
he just pushes you off and heads to the kitchen
he's never cooked for you before, but it's surprisingly good and you eat it all so quickly he chuckles and offers you dessert by tugging at the waistband of his pants
"Silly girl, can't even take care of herself. Ok, ok, chill out. I'm only kidding, let me do it. Here, you really are a useless brat. Just- no- lie down if you can't do anything else. Yes, I'll make something for you. Whatever. O-oh, you're still hungry...?"
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reblog if ur hungry lol also idk what happened to me with this one- will never write fluff again haha
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k1ngpin42 · 2 months
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POV: 𝘼𝙗𝙗𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧r- (mini fic)
Warnings: Dating, public 18+, dominant Abby, fingering
You, Abby, Mel, Manny and Whitney are sitting at a table in the WLF base. You and Abby aren’t allowed to be paired together on patrols anymore after Mel snitched about the time she caught you two fucking while on duty. To be fair, though, the door of the room you two were in had been locked from the outside, it wasn’t your fault Mel didn’t knock. 
Anyway, not being able to see her throughout the day was fucking with you. Images of what you two would do the night and morning before you’d go on patrol, things you two used to do at any available moment on away missions. Against the wall when the other soldiers turned their back, on the floor, against an old car,  on the table where you and the others would plan routes around seraphite camps, one time you even fucked while in a room full of clickers. (It was the most terrifying orgasm you had ever experienced if you’re being honest with yourself. Still amazing though.)
She sits down and the tension is immediate, you’d let her take you right here and now if she asked.
“Hey love, how were your assignments today?” She asks. Fuck. You didn’t know what was up with you today cause you were fucking wet at the site of her.
“What? Oh, yeah, it was alright…” You say, eyes scanning her body. You hear the others talk indistinctly and your gaze immediately drops to her hands.
“Did you really have to invite the game nerd?” You hear Mel whisper. You roll your eyes.
“Whitney’s my friend, Mel, don’t be a dick.” You tell her bluntly, and Whitney looks up at this. Mel looks at her with a guilty expression.
“Whitney I didn’t mean….”
“Oh it’s okay Mel. I can just sit by myself like I usually do.”
“Nonsense, you’re with us.” Manny reassures.
Once this drama clears up, Abby and Mel start telling the others stories about their mission today. Various jokes and exaggerations. None of this was relevant to you, though, cause for the love of everything holy, you couldn’t focus.
You watched as she enhanced her story with hand movements, her laugh was a melody in your ears, her voice a chorus. The veins on her hands were still prominent, she must have had to beat up some form of enemy, usually runners. Or maybe she had been lifting something heavy.
A smile smile pressed your lips at the thought of that. The thought of her big arms straining, she would groan slightly before the metal crate behind a door would move and she’d let out another satisfied sigh. Fuck. Those arms, those hands, you needed them inside you, on you, you didn’t care which. 
“He grabs the EMPTY gun and points it at the woman. She’s got a fuckin club or something and he says….well, something in Spanish.” Abby explains to the group who have been intently listening, making you feel slightly bad for zoning out.
“ Estás acabado, cabron. You are finished, asshole.” 
“Haha…nice.” Abby replies, taking a bite of her food. She looks over at you, who is still too focused on the way the vein on her right hand is more prominent than on her left. When she notices this, she smirks. That same cocky fucking smirk when she knows that, once again, she’s read you like a book.
“Hey so, that new training manual you read, what was it again?” She asks you as she slips a hand on your thigh. You’re wearing baggy blue jeans and even with them on you feel heat trickle down your spine.
“Oh the one about long guns? Well…the main premise is about rounds.” She moves her hand so it’s cupping your cunt through the fabric. 
“I-“ You clear your throat. “Each gun has a unique gear that allows the rounds to move more fl-“ Abby cautiously unzips the jeans. “Fluidly.” You explain. She starts teasing your pussy with her index fingers and painting your clit with slick.
“Have you tested it out on a gun? The upgrade?” Abby asks, watching you with an amused expression as she increases the pace.
“Wh-at…oh um, yeah.” You stumble over your words.
“Ah well you can come improve my weapon, do you know how many times this gun has been stepped on? I’m surprised I can put new rounds in at all.” Manny laughs. Your eyelids flutter as she puts her two middle fingers inside you and circles your clit with her thumb. She does all this with her left hand, not even taking her eyes off of the group, she doesn’t have to. 
How does this not make her uncomfortable? How does the fact that our whole friend group will watch you cum work for her in any way?
“Only if you gi-mm~” You stifle your moan with your hand.
“You okay?” Mel asks you. You nod.
“Just tired, I was gonna say, only if you give me a….ah~ a good gun too since he always hogs them all.”
“I do not.” He laughs. 
Fuck, Abby’s hands rubbing you feels fucking insatiable but you need to be alone with her, you can’t stand how embarrassing this feels. You want her to fuck you till you can’t breathe, not tease you in front of people you have to interact with on the regular.
“I might go to bed early.” You say, attempting to push Abbys hands away. She grabs your arm tightly and gives you a warning look.
“Aw don’t be silly, we’ll go when you’re finished.” She pauses. “…Eating.” Abby adds, increasing her pace as well as the pressure on your clit. Fuck, you could scream at how good it feels. You want to scream. 
“Who were you with today baby?” Abby asks. Fuck you could kick her right now. She’s clearly doing this on purpose to hear you make a fool of yourself in front of her your friends. It won’t work, you try to convince yourself.
“Um, I don’t know, it was me, two guys and a girl. The girl was dating one of the guys so me and the other guy did most of the patrolling while they probably, I don’t even know, did each other or something.” You explain, enjoying the feeling of her thick, warm fingers. Fuuuuuuck.
Mel looked guilty again. She always did, maybe this is just her resting face?
“I’m sorry that you and Abby can’t go on patrols anymore.” Mel utters, quietly. You roll your eyes but before you can even think to be annoyed at her, Abby pushes just the right place and you let out a gush of satisfied air.
“Agh~ all good.” You say, keeping your composure fairly well. Abby rewards this by easing up slightly and you instinctively buck your hips forward. 
“Do you prefer hot places or cold?” Abby asked, and at this point you’re forcing your eyes open. 
“What?” You ask, bitterly. Fuck you’re painfully close, you’re so gonna hit her when this is over. 
“Abby…” You whisper to her, her smirk widens, cocky prick.
“Did you say something baby?” You sigh and poke at some of the food on your plate. 
“Hot. I don’t like the cold or the rain, snow’s the only…f….um, exception.” You breathe out. Abby can tell by the look on your face that you’re cumming and she tilts her head, admiring you.
“I prefer the heat too. It’s always hot in Mexico.” Manny says, his voice just a murmer as you see colours through your eyelids. Holy fuck, you’d give anything to let out a loud moan right now. 
“I’m actually pretty tired too, I think we’re gonna turn in early.” Abby explains to the others. Mel nods and Manny looks mildly disappointed, but doesn’t say anything. 
“Have a good night.” Whitney says with a warm smile. You nod and Abby helps pull you up. You bite back a wince at how sensitive it feels to have your legs together and you hurry with Abby out of the hall.
“Abigail fucking Anderson.” You warn, simply. She smiles, kissing you playfully on the cheek.
“Yeah?” She asks. You punch her arm lightly. 
“Do you like making a fool of me? All our friends saw-“
“Did you like it?” She asks, that seductive and almost arrogant smirk still evident on her pretty fucking face. You roll your eyes. She kisses your neck and leans in to your ear.
“I bet you were thinking about it. My hands, my fingers, I was just giving you what you want.” 
“Yeah but…I mean at dinner? That’s just torture.” 
“Aw.” She says with fake sympathy. “Want me to make it up to you?”
°..·°¯°·._.· 🎀 >.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°🎀 >-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯
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catcze · 7 months
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not particularly a request if u don't want it to be but as a fellow wriothesley enjoyer I wanted to share this idea
fontaine is based off of france right? so the thought of wrio being able to speak french and absolutely using that to his advantage to be a flirt has been driving me insane. he would be INSUFFERABLE (especially if his s/o isn't fluent) and I'd be loving every second of it
(also love your works <3 it's the main fuel that's been making me so horrifically down bad for him)
OH ?!!? MY GOD ?!?! HEHAKJDJ FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I CANT NOT !! It's a little short and a little sweet, but i hope you like it!
(Translations listed at the end! I used google translate, so if there's any mistakes, please feel free to correct me!!)
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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Wriothesley has started to say things to you on the regular— but for the life of you, you can't understand. It starts first on a slow day. You're lounging in his office, reading a random book you've plucked from his shelves. He's just looking through some papers, doing nothing too important.
Then, Wriothesley glances up from his papers, lets his eyes fall on you. "Tu me rends si heureux."
And you're furrowing your brow in confusion, staring at him. It's a phrase form his mother tongue, that much you know. But you're not sure what it actually means. The way his smile is a bit too mischievous, you don't think that he intends for you to understand, anyway.
"I'm... sorry?" You ask. What else can you say? You're pretty sure from his insufferably smug expression that he's not going to tell you what it means anytime soon. At the very least, you're pretty sure he's not shit talking you to your face.
Your eyes narrow.
Probably.
He can see the question on the tip of your tongue, the suspicious glance you cast his way. Wriothesley just chuckles and goes back to the papers on his desk.
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."
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The next time, he does it as you're having dinner across from each other in the cafeteria. Your meal is halfway done, having been practically shoveled into your mouth. It probably paints an unflattering picture, but you're too hungry to really care. Resting on the table, he's stubbornly gripping your hand in his own, fingers intertwined. Even though it made eating much more difficult, Wriothesley would scowl and reach back for your hand whenever you tried to take it away, so you just considered it a lost cause.
Lost in filling your stomach, you're almost don't hear what he says.
"Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi." Wriothesley mumbles, thumb stroking the back of your hand tenderly.
You narrow your eyes again, a silent question.
Wriothesley just smiles secretively and raises a hand to his mouth, miming zipping up his lips and locking it with a key, then tossing it away. He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. No answers today, apparently.
"Are you ever going to tell me what it is you've been saying?" you ask once you've swallowed your food.
"Mm. Maybe one day. If I feel like it." And he's grinning again— the cheeky one that he wears whenever he one-ups you, that showcases his dimples and his teeth. You kinda want to punch him, but it also makes you remember how handsome he is when he smiles.
"Fine," you grumble, sighing. You busy yourself once more with your food. "Keep your fucking secrets. See if I care." You do. A lot, actually. You're very curious now.
Wriotheley just smiles and lets you eat.
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But he slips up, one evening. To be fair, it's late at night after a hard day's work. Both of you are exhausted— a tangled mass of limbs and sheets on your bed, both of you halfway asleep already.
Your head is cushioned on his chest, nose pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around you. Wriothesley's nose is pressed into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. His breaths are deep and slow, and you can tell without even looking that his eyes are fighting to stay awake. You're no better, though.
Just before you nod off though, you can feel the brush of his lips against your hair. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement," he says quietly, lips brushing the strands in affection. If you had just been the slightest bit more asleep, you might not have even heard it.
But while you may not be fluent in his language, may know little else aside from the most basic of phrases, you recognize that one. It's hard not to, when it's arguably one of the most popular phrases from his mother tongue. Je t'aime. I love you.
Something gooey finds its way into your chest, and the blood rushes through your body as you're overcome by the sheer sweetness of the man you're laying on. Slowly, you crane your neck up to face him, and can see the slight widening of his eyes, the quiet oh shit that runs through his head.
"Is that what you've been saying?" you ask, voice just as quiet as his. Wriothesley hesitates, arms tightening their hold on you.
"... generally, yes."
You smile gently, scooching up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, then to his lips, giggling when he leans down to make it easier for you. You bury your head into his neck then, resting your cheek against him. "I love you too, Wrio."
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Translations:
Tu me rends si heureux. — You make me so happy. Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi. — I can't imagine the rest of my life without you. Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement. — I love you. I love you so much
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muniimyg · 2 months
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5: the oblivious // series m.list
note: okok... i'm sorry i have to taint them. i jus think... HE DESERVED THIS !!! ahwuhaksjf srsly i tried so hard to keep this fic pure n fluffy ,,, mebe next time LOL
warnings: jk fingers oc in the library :') ,, dirty talk ,, oc cums !! implied smut thru/out their convo ?? yeah ...
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo
//
“Hey, you.”
Before you can turn your head, it’s like your heart already knows who it is. Actually, it’s pretty much a given on who it is. 
Jungkook catches up next to you, snaking his arm around your waist. He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head, followed by a tight hug. He squeezes you until you squeal free from his grip. 
“There’s a kinder way of greeting me that doesn’t involve squeezing my guts out,” you criticize him half-heartedly. "What ever happened to just saying hi?"
He chuckles. “It went down the drain after the first time I kissed you."
“You always wanna kiss me, huh?”
Pretending to be offended, he shoots you a glare. “Now, now… Don’t act like you didn’t come running back for a goodnight kiss—”
“Okay, okay,” you yield. “I get it. Can you—”
Without hesitation, Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulders. Along with your books in your hands, he tilts his head towards the library, assuming that's where you're headed. You nod in response. Like second nature, he offers you his hand.
You take it.
With a smile, he adds, “Let's go. I got it, mi.”
Confused, you tilt your head at him. “Mi?”
He then scrunches his nose at you. “Figure it out.”
You huff but mutter an “okay, fine.” Although, you don't really think about it. You have a feeling you already know what he means.
With that, you continue to walk towards the library. As you do so, Jungkook walks beside you, happier than ever. He smiles brightly when you ask him about his day. To which he replies that it was the same old same old. He states that the only exciting part about today was that he got dismissed early from class because his professor had an appointment. Hence, him being able to catch up to you on time. On Monday's, you're usually at the library by 2PM sharp. He usually joins you at 3PM, making today an hour more special than usual. You laugh, joking that he's too into you. Jungkook doesn't deny it. Poorly, he utters under his breath; “like you wouldn’t do the same…” 
You laugh because you heard it. 
But more than that, you laugh because it’s true. If the tables were turned, you’d be in his position. You’d be the one looking for him. In all honesty, you don't know when that started... But it has and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Jungkook likes the mood right now. It’s a lot like the end-of-spring weather today. It’s playful and sweet. Moments like these are exactly why he gets so many butterflies when he’s around you. Maybe it’s because he finally feels like things are moving forward between you two. Maybe it’s because he feels your effort. Maybe because it’s finally happening. 
You have butterflies too.
They say love is only really made up of two things: choices and timing. With your entire heart, you can't help but feel hopeful that this is that.
This is it.
When you two make it in front of the library, Jungkook holds the door open for you. Happily, you head to your spot only to find it taken. 
“Oh…” you frown. “That’s—”
“Do you want me to ask them to move?” Jungkook suggests. "I can do it."
He says it nonchalantly like it's no big deal.
That's the difference between you and him. For many things, Jungkook's approach is much more confident and not personal. You on the other hand... Would rather eat the wrong order than correct the workers. It's difficult for you to feel like you aren't inconveniencing others. It's easier for you to suck it up and move on.
With wide eyes, you shake your head. “What? No. That spot—”
“It's yours if you want it... I know you want it. I can get it for you." He repeats himself. "Just tell me to, baby. I got it.” 
Your heart is touched by the way he validates your feelings. More than that, your heart is touched by how he understands and protects what matters to you. There's kindness in his actions. There's thoughtfulness and in a way, it makes you wonder just how well he knows your heart. Though it's just a spot in your favourite library; it's also where you feel the most safe. That's all he really wants... To be with you wherever you are the happiest. He wants it so bad. He just wants to sit with you.
When that realization hits, you can't stop it.
Your heart skips a beat.
“It’s… Okay, fine. Y-yeah, it is my favourite spot but it's also whatever," because wherever you are is my new favourite spot. "We can sit somewhere else—”
His eyes light up.
“I know a spot.”
“You do?”
“Mhmm.” Jungkook nods towards the other end of the library. Before you can think twice, he takes your hand and tugs you to follow him.
And so that's what you do.
You hold his hand tightly.
You follow him.
You set your butterflies free.
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Jungkook leads you to the corner of the library. It’s a little secluded, bordered by bookshelves, and only lit by one big window. Your usual spot is right in the heart of the library. Where the high ceilings look magnificent at every time of day, and the busy atmosphere motivates you to keep going… This part of the library is sleepier. It’s hidden. It’s a little—
“I-is this where you go to make out with your girls?” you attempt to joke your nervousness away. 
Jungkook grins. “Jealous?”
“Only if it’s true.” 
He shakes his head, completely impressed with how you answer him. It’s times like these where he has no doubt that he likes the wrong girl. This is it. You’re the best match for him. He won’t have anyone else. 
He refuses to. 
Jungkook pulls you down to his lap, and as you settle in, he kisses your neck. Out of reflex, you hesitate when someone walks past you two. They chuckle at you two as if they know the spot... As if they know Jungkook.
You clear your throat and shift away.
Instantly, he notices and sighs. He isn't disappointed or annoyed, he knows you're shy. He knows you need reassurance. He knows to listen to you.
“___, if you think this is some fuckboy move I’m pulling… You’re right. But it’s not my move. It’s Jin’s.” He confesses. “I’ve never made out with a girl in the library. Never felt like it… Like, it’s just so boring and like… The lowest level of an exhibition kink.” 
“What’s the highest?”
Jungkook blanks out. 
“Don’t edge me like that,” he warns you. “Don’t ask if the answer has nothing to do with you and me.”
More than his head and heart, Jungkook feels like his dick might go crazy.
You laugh, as you get up from his lap and sit on the chair beside him. He groans and keeps his hand on your wrist as you move. Jungkook only lets go when you reach over for your bag and begin to unpack. 
He watches you as you prepare your notes in front of him and turn your laptop on. In complete disbelief of the direction of the conversation, he can’t take his eyes off of you. 
It’s like he’s in a trance. He doesn’t know if he’s even blinking. He must be, right? You’re the only thing that he sees. The only thing he can think of lately... And to see you so close to him? It feels surreal.
He’s so lucky. 
He’s so in love.
There’s no other way of putting it.
Over these past few months, you’ve made it incredibly difficult for him to deny his feelings. He can’t even suppress them anymore like the good subconscious fuckboy he is. You have not only captured his heart with your gentleness, but you have him mesmerized with every single part of yourself that you give to him. As time goes by, he isn’t sure how much more he can hold out before a kiss turns into something more or how many words he has left to use before the words “marry me,” escape his lips. It’s just so easy with you.
It’s so easy to feel loved and be in love. 
“Stop staring at me,” you hum as you read through your articles. You don’t even glance at him, but you feel it. You feel the desire to. You should give in… Right? Maybe—
“God, you have no idea how hard I’m trying.” 
You turn to look at him, lips curved into a small smile. “T-try harder… Like me.”
This time, Jungkook is caught off guard. Maybe you aren't as oblivious as he once thought you were.
“What do you mean?” he asks, moving his seat closer to you. You sit back and lean in towards his body. It's as if the work you prepared to focus on has completely lost its significance.
It has.
“I think you’re handsome,” you admit. You say it so gently that it comes off a little timid... Sure nonetheless. “But you don’t see my eyes popping out of my head—”
“You think I’m handsome?” Jungkook chuckles, feeling flattered with the way you're trying so hard to get past this nonchalantly. Nice try, ___. He plans to milk this out as much as possible. “What else?”
You scrunch your nose at him. “A little annoying to be honest. This is my study time, and you’re acting all cute.”
“So you think I’m handsome and cute?”
Rolling your eyes, you push away from him playfully. “I think you know know what you are.”  
Instantly, he hates the distance you put in between you two. You were just close to him… Why move away? He moves closer to you. You giggle as you feel him moving your hair from your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your neck and behind your ear. 
“Just means more coming from you… You know? Makes me happy when you think of me.”
“I always think of you,” you breathe, pushing him away again. He gives you a lazy smile and you squish his lips together into a pout. “Are you done? Stop staring at me. Stop trying to make out with me. Stop—”
“Why?” Jungkook tests you, removing your hands from his face. You’re tongue tied. “___, if you’re in love with me, fess up now. Aren’t we supposed to be doing that honesty thing?”
“That was more for you than it is for me…” you remind him. “Now, get it together or get out.”
“You can’t kick me out of the library. You aren’t the police. If you are, show me your handcuffs.” Jungkook demands. “Plus, this is my spot.”
With an annoyed tone, you sit up and argue back. “You took my spot—”
“Shhh,” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss on your lips. Your lips chase his as he pulls away. You let out a whine and furrow your eyebrows together.
One more, please.
One more kiss.
Jungkook settles back to his seat and takes his books out. Ignoring your pleas, he places his hand on your knee (like he always does) and hushes you one last time; “___, get it together or get out.” 
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Jungkook’s hand on your knees somehow made it up your skirt. 
Let’s not talk about it. Instead, let’s just accept that this is what’s happening now.
Even so, you admit that a part of you should have seen this coming… Nevertheless, you aren’t mad that it’s happening. You’d be lying if you never went through your ovulation and didn’t think about Jungkook… Besides, he’s been so good to you. He deserves this!
God, did he deserve this. 
He has wanted this for so long. Aside from being mindlessly in love with you 24/7, he has thought about it. Of course, he has. At the end of the day, his heart can't be the only thing that's in(to) you. He's a nice guy, meaning he’d rather service you first.
Mark his word but the day you and him actually do sleep together and it's you doing things to him...
It will be unforgettable.
It will be incomparable.
It will be everything.
For now, this is it. His hoodie sits on top of your lap as his fingers are up your pussy. You two are still in the library at his spot. Everyone has left to eat dinner. The only ones at the library are the workers and the try-hard students in the main rooms.
Besides… You’re close. 
Really fucking close.
As his fingers pump inside you, you squirm in your chair. Leaning your forehead against his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and utters; “take it, baby. You can do it. Make me proud.”
“I c-can’t,” you cry, feeling it in your bones at this point. His fingers curl inside you, and you practically jump out of your seat when he adds his thumb to rub onto your clit. 
“Wish it was my mouth,” he whines. “Can I do that next time, baby? Can I suck your cunt? So fucking swollen right now... You thinking of me eating you out, baby? Wanna lick that pussy so bad.. Ahh, fuck.”
“M-mnhmphh,” you moan at the thought. “Kiss me, p-please…”
You tilt your face up and pursed your lips at him. Jungkook lowers his head and kisses you, deep and slow. It’s a contradiction to how he picks up the pace and fucks you with his fingers. You gasp, mouth opening for him. He catches your tongue and sucks on it. 
Pulling away, you grab a handful of his shirt and tug on it. Holding onto it, you pant and feel the tingles in your body intensify.
“That’s it, ___. Clench around my fucking fingers,” he hisses. “Be an angel and cream them, yeah? Fuck my fingers back if you want. I’ll let you.” 
You shake your head. “N-no. You started this, you finish it.”
He grins. “What my girl wants, she gets.” 
He keeps going, fucking you with his fingers. They curl, searching inside your pussy as if there’s something to fucking find. Actually, maybe he’ll find your dignity in there. You must have lost your mind to be fingered in the fucking library!
Your thoughts are cut off when he pulls his fingers out and rubs your folds. You almost cry when you feel him pinch your clit. 
“Jungkook,” you whine, feeling yourself climax. 
“Jungkook,” he mocks, as he feels your upper body collapse against his. 
As you feel yourself cum, you gather the strength to stick up for yourself. “S-shut up.”
He laughs, and kisses the top of your head as he pulls his fingers out. He murmurs between kisses; “Good job, baby… Did so good. Proud of you.”
Your heart flutters as you catch your breath and straighten your posture. With Jungkook’s free hand, he reaches in his bag for the little packet of tissue (that you had packed in there a few days ago because you noticed he had a runny nose) and nonchalantly wipes your mess. 
“Your fingers—”
Jungkook shoves them in his mouth, sucking on your cum. As he cleans them off, you glare at him. 
“Don't—oh my god," you huff. Suddenly, you feel embarrassed about everything that just happened. Jungkook laughs and leans forward. He kisses your cheek, asking if you're okay. You nod and feel yourself beginning to blank out.
"You're nasty."
He cups your face and kisses your lips. “Yeah, yeah... But, baby, I wasn’t the one that came in the library.”
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Omgg can u do some matt x actress!reader hc?? Love you xx
Actress- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Actress!reader x Boyfriend!Matt
classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, slight cursing
summary: head cannons of Matt with an actress girlfriend!
☆SFW
Matt thought he knew everything there was to know about fame; the screaming fans, the off guard photos, and the rumors. When he started dating you, though, he was shocked at the intensity of your life.
☆ Every time you’re out in public, you get recognized by a fan or paparazzi, without fail.
☆ You’re waiting in line for your coffee, holding Matt’s hand as you engage in meaningless, light conversation with him.
☆ A loud gasp interrupts you mid sentence, causing you to look in the direction of the noise.
☆ A fan stands there with a hand covering their mouth, eyes blown open in pure shock. “Oh my God! Y/n?! Can I have a picture please?”
☆ You never turn a fan down and soon, when other people realize who you are, it’ll become like a little meet and greet, and Matt becomes the photographer.
☆ When the paparazzi recognizes you, though, you’re not as quick to pose for a picture.
☆ “Matt, don’t look,” you warn, eyes darting between him and the paparazzi snapping pictures of you through the restaurant window.
☆ Matt never listens, he immediately cranes his neck to see what you’re talking about. “I said don’t look!” you squeak, trying to pull his attention back towards you.
☆ “Fuck off,” Matt groans, throwing the paparazzi a middle finger and returning to his meal with you.
☆ Matt is always excited about your newest project, whether you’re playing a main, side, or background character.
☆ You’re getting ready for the premiere of your newest film, Burn It.
☆ “Matt what are you wearing?” you laugh.
☆ “Just supporting my girl,” he replies. He does a small twirl, showing off his outfit. He’s wearing a shirt with the movie poster printed on the front, your face right smack in the middle and the title in bold letters right above it.
☆ “It’s the premiere, you gotta dress up,” you laugh, secretly enjoying the sillyness of it all.
☆ “Fine. But I’m wearing this under my suit,” he replies, exiting the room. After a while, you start hearing the trailer to the movie playing from your room.
☆ He’s equally as supportive of your small roles.
☆ “Hey guys! So Chris, Nick, Y/n, and I are at the movie theater and we’re about to watch Y/n’s new movie The Escape,” Matt says, introducing the theme of their YouTube video.
☆ “Babe, I literally played cashier #3,” you chuckle from behind the camera, holding a big bucket of popcorn.
☆ “I’d watch it if you played a piece of grass,” he replies seriously.
☆ Whenever a new movie of yours releases, you’re usually booked and busy with press tours and interviews.
☆ During these interviews, the initial questions are usually about the movie, but as the interview progresses they become more personal.
☆ “So, Y/n, have you found Mr.Right?” the interviewer asks, fidgeting with the cue cards in front of her.
☆ The question is corny, and you’ve been asked it millions of times before, but you always answer truthfully because you’ve never hidden your relationship status.
☆ “Yup and his name is Matthew Sturniolo,” you reply cheekily, sending the camera a wink. When Matt watches the interview, he feels like a fan who just got a shoutout.
☆ There have been roles that require you to kiss your costars and Matt is never a fan of those.
☆ “Beautiful take!” the director exclaims, clapping his hands loudly in approval. “But let’s get it one more time! Add a little more fire! More passion,” he instructs, snapping his fingers.
☆ Matt joined you on set today, and quite frankly he wishes he didn’t. He hates seeing you kiss another man, even if it is just for show.
☆ Once the director gets the perfect shot, you’re all sent to lunch. “Hi baby,” you hum, walking over to Matt and wrapping your arms around his waist.
☆ You go in for a kiss and he quickly leans in, wanting to claim you in front of everyone.
☆ You are no stranger to rumors and speculations, especially not when a male costar is involved.
☆ “Actress, Y/n trades in her YouTuber for a REAL celebrity,” “Y/n found a new boo?,” “What happened to Matthew Sturniolo and who is the new guy in Y/n’s life?”
☆ Matt can’t stop reading the gossip newsletters and blogs, and even if he knows they’re just rumors he finds himself becoming sad.
☆ “Matt! Where are you?” you shout through the house. You find him on his bed, scrolling relentlessly on his laptop.
☆ “Whatcha doing? Wanna play Mario Kart?” you ask, crawling into bed next to him. Your eyes blow open in shock when you see his screen.
☆ “Matt stop reading that shit!” you exclaim. “I can’t help it,” he groans, running his hands down his face.
☆ You snatch the laptop and drag him out of bed for a night full of Mario Kart and cuddling on the couch.
☆ With a schedule as busy as yours, it can become difficult for you to make time for your personal life.
☆ “I miss you,” Matt whispers through the phone. You’re on a press tour for your newest film and your side of the bed has been empty for 2 months now.
☆ “I miss you too, baby,” you murmur. It hurt to know that you still had another month of this tour left.
☆ “When you come back I’m never letting you go,” his voice is sad, but he knows 3 months isn’t forever.
☆ “I can’t wait,” you giggle, eyes falling on the digital clock across the room. It’s getting late and you have an early interview tomorrow.
☆ “I have to go baby, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Matt’s sad to let you go, it feels like he rarely hears your voice nowadays if it isn’t playing from his TV.
☆ “Okay, beautiful.”
☆ When you’re invited to events or award shows, Matt always joins as your plus one.
☆ “And the nominees are…” the announcer says, listing the names as she reads them from the teleprompter.
☆ Matt squeezes your hand when your name is said, a huge smile spreading across his face.
☆ “The winner for best actress in a leading role is…” the suspense is killing you, but you feel the victory in your soul.
☆ “Y/n!” The entire crowd cheers at the mention of your name and you can’t help but shoot up from your seat in excitement.
☆ “Oh my God, Matt! I won!” You exclaim, pulling him in for a kiss.
☆ You scurry on stage, nervous hands taking your award and preparing for an improvised speech. You end the speech with a special thanks to your friends and family, making sure to specifically thank Matt as you blow him kisses from the stage.
☆ He watches with teary eyes and a huge, dopey smile.
☆NSFW
Matt loves joining you on set and sometimes things can become a little heated between you two.
☆ You hated photo shoots, especially when it involved lingerie and/ or bikinis. Matt, on the other hand, loved photo shoots and he was always quick to join you for them.
☆ “I’m so cold,” you shiver, plopping onto the couch next to Matt. You’re wearing a lingerie set so small that you might as well be naked.
☆ “I know of a few ways to warm you up,” Matt replies, only half joking. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, earning an excited giggle from you.
☆ “Oh yeah?” you tease, pulling him in for a kiss.
☆ Before you know it, he’s pushed your panties to the side and is fucking you so hard the couch is moving with each thrust.
☆ Although Matt knows your relationship with your male costars is purely professional, he can’t help but become jealous.
☆ “How was work today?” Matt asks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
☆ “Eh same old same old. We’re stuck on the same scene,” you reply, hoping he won’t ask any further questions.
☆ “Hmm that sucks,” he hums. “What scene is it?”
☆ You gulp nervously, knowing how much Matt is going to hate your answer. “The bathroom sex scene.”
☆ You feel his body stiffen immediately. “It’s just because the set is small and the angles are awkward,” you continue.
☆ “Mhm,” is all he says.
☆ Later, when you’re getting ready for bed and doing your nighttime routine, he pins you against the bathroom counter and fucks you dumb.
☆ “This pussy is mine,” he grunts into your ear, earning a whimper from you.
☆ When you’ve been gone for long press tours, he becomes needy and you two have to resort to phone sex.
☆ “I miss you, baby,” he murmurs. “I miss you too, so much,” you reply.
☆ “No, like, I miss you,” he reiterates, allowing his hand to travel below the waistband of his sweats.
☆ “Touch yourself,” you instruct. “Pretend it’s me.”
☆ You continue to talk him through it, not stopping until you hear his beautiful, breathy moans.
☆ “You did so good,” you praise and he swears his dick gets hard again.
☆ When you finally do return from your long trips, Matt is extremely needy.
☆ He’s waiting for you impatiently at the airport, ready to engulf you in his arms as soon as he sees you.
☆ When you get home, he attacks you with a bunch of kisses until they become more needy and passionate.
☆ His hands wander all over your body, massaging and kneading at your skin like it’s the first time.
☆ You push him back into the bed and straddle his lap, bouncing on his cock until he’s satisfied.
☆ “Oh my God!— Fuck! I love you,” he moans, bucking his hips into you as he climaxes.
☆ “Holy fuck. Maybe I should go on tour more often,” you giggle, peppering kisses along Matt’s face. “Please no,” he mumbles.
MASTERLIST
a/n: 📸📸📸 working on Arranged Ch.2, a Johnnie fic & another Matt headcannon!
Also ily2 thank u for the request! xoxox - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @stingerayyy2 @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @mimi-luvzyu @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(
364 notes · View notes
rainybubbles · 9 months
Text
How do you meet COD men ?
Price, Soap, Rudy, Ghost, Gaz, Keegan
(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )
P R I C E :
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-"I'm going to die," you say to your friend.
-"What ? Why would you die ?"
-"I sent a pregnant Shrek cake to a military base."
-"Why would you do that ?!"
-"This guy ordered a cake for his soldier's birthday, but I also had the order for a prank and...
-"You mixed up the two boxes."
-"Yes."
-"So, actually,....a soldier is opening his box and..."
-"And he will see a pregnant Shrek cake."
-"...It was good to know you when you were alive."
-"You're supposed to reassure me !"
-"Oh sorry. You will die fast, don't worry. It's their job"
-"Fuck you."
-"How was the guy who ordered ?"
-"Like he could crash my head between his arms"
-"Shit."
-"But he was handsome, I guess."
-"Guess your last view will be nice, at least."
-"Shit, how do I even excuse myself for that ? I can't go to the base and say "sorry I sent a Shrek cake, but it was a mistake can you let me in ?"
-"I guess you just say it," a man says.
-You gulp when you recognize the Captain who ordered you the cake.
-"Sir, I'm so sorry, I swear it's not on purpose, I just mixed two orders and..."
-"And you made my boys laugh after a rough mission."
-"oh."
-"So thanks. Of course, it was not what I planned for a birthday, but seeing them happy was nice."
-"You're..welcome, I guess ?"
-He smiles.
-"But don't ever do another pregnant Shrek when I order from you, next time, please."
-"Next time ?"you say surprised.
-"It was delicious, I don't plan to change a good baker," he smiles.
And that's how you gain a regular after offering a pregnant Shrek cake. (even though each time he sees green on your hand, he seems scared when he takes the box.)
S O A P :
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- He drew you like Gollum.
- I know, it sounds horrible, let me explain.
- You needed money, and you offered your services as a model for art classes.
- Soap was one of the students.
- During his leaves, he often took art classes to relax.
- And usually it goes well.
- But when he saw you....he thought he could never do justice to your face.
- He felt so self-conscious about his skills that he ended up doing a horrible portrait of you.
- And it could have ended up here, but the teacher decided to show everyone's pieces of art to analyze them
- So you saw Soap's piece where you looked like Gollum.
- And you knew it was from him.
- Everyone has a smile, while he was terrified.
- Usually, he's self-confident, but it's on the battlefield, in his life. The art was the only place where he was not sure he belonged too.
- At the end of the classes, he decided to talk to you.
- "I'm sorry for what happened today, I felt anxious and I ended up doing a bad portrait. It doesn't look like you at all."
- You looked up at him and smiled.
- "Why do you apologize? It was fun to see me like this, plus you need to start somewhere, no? You can't be a fucking Leonardo Da Vinci from the first day."
- He was too stunned to speak.
- "John or Johnny," he said.
- You looked at him confused.
- "Name's John, sorry, it seems you really blew my mind."
- You chuckled. "Nice to meet you, John. Hope next time your mind will be more confused for the next class."
- He nodded.
- Wait, did you say the next class? But it was nude models…
- Hope he won't draw a stick figure this time.
R U D Y
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- You were an author.
- Well, it was not your main job since you only sold four books this year, but you considered yourself an author.
- And you had a hater. Someone who left a hateful review on each of your books.
- You knew that the next day after publishing your book, he would leave a bad review.
- So when your boss at the library told you that someone was regularly buying your books, you knew it could only be this hater, since the other person who bought your books was your mom.
- And you had had a bad day. So when your boss told you he was there, you were about to confront this hater.
- Maybe to understand what he didn't like or to know if he was just a coward.
- So you strode towards the spot your boss pointed at.
- "Hey, you," you said, not sure what to add after. When the man raised his head, he looked fit, and you knew you couldn't stand a chance in a fight if he decided to fight.
- "Wait, are you the author Y/N?" Rudy asked, with a sparkle in his eyes.
- Wait... A sparkle?
- "Hm, yeah, it's me," you answered, not sure what was happening.
- "I love your work. Your last book was really amazing. I have followed you since your debut."
- Your mouth was open, because :
1. one, your mom had lied to you when she told you she had bought three copies of your book.
2. And second, you had your first fan in front of you.
- "Thanks," you almost said, tears of joy welling up. "Sorry if I sound harsh. I thought you were that hater."
- "Oh yeah, I saw those reviews on your page. He's always there, but don't worry, I'll leave positive reviews to balance it. I'm Rudy, by the way."
- "Nice to meet you, and thanks for loving my work."
- "No need to thank me. I just appreciate good books."
- "What's your favorite, if I may ask?"
- Rudy smiled, and you both started chatting about books that afternoon. Maybe your reviews would improve after this, not just because of your writing, but also because he found you stunning.
G H O S T :
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- Ghost scared people on the battlefield.
- However, the people who were most scared of him were the mechanics on the base.
- Ghost was a horrible driver, and everyone knew that.
- So, each time he went to the mechanics, they knew it was because he had done horrible damage to the cars.
- A game was organized whenever Ghost approached – you played rock, paper, scissors, and the loser had to fix his car.
- However, you were new to the base.
- When you saw this guy standing and waiting, you went to him without realizing all this.
- But when you saw his car, you understood why no one else was coming.
- He had a bowling ball in the trunk, the roof was broken, all the windows were shattered, and one tire was burnt.
- "...did you take this on the battlefield?" you asked.
- "No." He said shortly.
- You blinked. "Then why is it in this condition?"
- "There was a grandma on the road."
- "...so, because of a grandma, you have a bowling ball in your trunk?"
- "Because I swerved to avoid her and ended up hitting a bowling alley."
- "How did you even get a driver's license?"
- "The examiner was too sick to see me again for the ninth time, so he just gave it to me."
- "I guess I'll fix your car, but please don't drive if you don't need to, sir."
- "Sure."
- The next day, he was there again with a hole in the car because of a bird. How ? You didn't know.
-But it seemed you had become his official mechanic without even knowing it.
G A Z :
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- When he hears your voice in a café, he recognizes you.
- The problem is, he can't come to you.
- Because if he knows your voice, it's because of your streams.
- Your ASMR streams.
- Being a soldier means your sleep schedule isn't really regular, and to help himself sleep, Gaz discovered ASMR.
- He found out about your streams, then your Patreon, and... let's just say your ASMR is spicy.
- So yes, if he says he's a fan of yours, it implies he has to reveal he listens to that in front of his teammates.
- And he's not ashamed of it.
- But he doesn't want Price to know he likes spicy ASMR, just like he wouldn't want to know what Price's fantasies are, or what Ghost likes in bed.
- (He wants to forget Soap's idea about Ghost in pink lingerie and a thong, and the day Price wore latex pants.)
- It's a line he doesn't want to cross.
- But he's also your biggest fan.
- So he tries to walk near you.
- But you're with a friend.
- And he doesn't know if your friend knows about this.
- So he ends up just glancing at you.
- Shit, how does he approach someone who does +18 things, without saying he knows they do this?
- Maybe if he waves... or just says hello? Or maybe if he asks for a selfie or…
- "Are you trying to imitate Ghost?" Soap asks.
- "What? No. Why do you say that?!" Gaz says, looking away.
- "Because you're staring at this person like they killed your dad and ate your mom, then burned your house and kidnapped your dog."
- "...it was really detailed for a scenario," Gaz says, confused.
- "So?"
- "I just know them, but I don't want to disturb them." Gaz says, trying to lie and tell the truth at the same time.
- If Soap finds out the truth, he'll never hear the end of it.
- "Do you want me to call them?"
- "NO. Absolutely not, don't do this, mate."
- "Why not?"
- Because they'll think you listen to their spicy ASMR audios, he wants to say, but he remains quiet.
- God, he feels like a teenager.
- But suddenly, he sees you walking towards them.
- You sit next to them, and... you wink at him, pointing to his key ring on his bag.
- It's your merch.
- Meaning... you know he's a fan.
- "Thanks for supporting me," you whisper before returning to your friend.
- Gaz doesn't speak until he gets back to base, too embarrassed but also too happy.
K E E G A N :
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- You were tired.
- The rush had finally ended. It was now 11 PM, and there was this one client who had just ordered 10 Happy Meals.
- You wanted to slap him. He had ordered at 22:57, and the fast food closed at 23:00.
- So you didn't have a choice but to serve him.
- You looked at your colleague, who was sighing, and you nodded.
- You were preparing the trays, ready to see 10 kids running around and getting everything dirty, but…
- It was only one man with a mask.
- When you saw him, you were ready to raise your hands and give him money. Why the heck would a man with a gun and a mask be at a McDonald's at 23:00 buying 10 Happy Meals?
- But he just took them and ate.
- One after another.
- In silence.
- In five minutes.
- And then he left.
- You looked at your colleague.
- "Guess it's as weird as people who order a burger without buns," your colleague said.
- You nodded and thought it was just the one weird client of the day.
- But every Wednesday, he was there, in silence.
- Maybe he hated Ronald McDonald, so he planned to run out of your stock of Happy Meals?
- Or maybe he collected the toys?
- You didn't know, but he was there.
- And you saw him eating those nuggets and fries without sauce.
- He didn't touch his drinks. My, how dry it must be.
- But one Wednesday you took a day off. So when you came back the next day, you joked with your colleague about the Happy Meal guy.
- But they didn't laugh.
- "Who?" they asked.
- And just like that, you realized that when you weren't there, the Happy Meal guy wasn't there either.
- You were scared.
- Maybe he thought buying Happy Meals seduced you, or it was his way of warning you before he would kill you, like a threat, "You'll end up like those nuggets."
- So, when you saw him enter, you sent your colleague.
- However, your manager decided to give you your break at that moment, meaning it would be only you and him in the place.
- You tried to act normally, but you noticed how he seemed not to like his food yet still ate it.
- You sighed and sat next to him, offering him some sauces.
- "It's better with these. You know, you can have them for free in the menu next time."
- He looked at you and nodded.
- He then tried it and smiled.
- That's when you noticed his dog tags.
- "We have a discount for military personnel, so you could take a real meal instead of a Happy Meal if you want to."
- He looked surprised and nodded.
- Next time, he ordered 2 Happy Meals and two regular menus.
- So you smiled.
- Until his other masked colleagues ordered 20 Happy Meals because they liked the skull toys in them.
- Maybe it was just military men who had a problem with Happy Meals.
If you want more : my COD masterlist
And my masterlist
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lost-and-ephemeral · 2 months
Note
hii can i request angst for love and deepspace, reader and mc are different ppl. our boys made plans with reader but forgot and left them hanging to hangout with the mc instead 😞
Series: In Her Shadow, pt.1 (ft. main trio)
Part 1 | Part 2
It feels like you've never been enough for him.
Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)
Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, reader and guys are dating
A/N: Thanks for your request, sweetheart! Hope it doesn't look too OOC.
Part 1 | Part 2
-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 
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Xavier
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Your relationship with Xavier could be called ideal, if not for one nuance.
His colleague, who takes up much of his attention.
There were times when he'd come home and talk about her with such excitement that you'd start to feel like a third wheel. But usually afterwards Xavier would apologize and say that no matter how strong his colleague was, you would still be the best for him.
And you'd like to believe that. Until he forgot about dinner with you because of her.
You've planned a perfect evening and cooked everything he loved so much, knowing how tired he might come back after a mission. Only for him to never show up this evening.
You've been waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Feeling how your heart was breaking even more with each passing minute. Maybe something bad had happened? Maybe he was hurt?
You texted him, only to get back, "Don't worry, I'm fine, my colleague just invited me to the cafe after our mission."
No apologies, no regrets. It seems that he just forgot about you and your plans together.
For a while you were silently sitting in your living room, staring at the phone screen. It was hard to describe all these feelings that were bubbling up inside you. Jealousy, anger. You didn't even bother to remind him about your dinner together and just put all the dishes away in the fridge.
Since when did she become more important than you?
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Zayne
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You always knew about Zayne's childhood friend. But you couldn't even imagine that she would make you feel so unwanted.
You had plans for today while your lover had the day off. As a cardiac surgeon, Zayne was busy most of the time and would come home late, completely exhausted. Of course, you wanted to spend every free day with him.
Except for one thing.
His childhood friend constantly overshadowed you. Well, you could understand why that was happening. After all, their friendship (or was it more than that already?) had been going on for years, and you couldn't stop Zayne from seeing her.
But…
Sitting alone in the restaurant, at the table you'd booked together, you barely held back tears as you stared at the message marked 'unread'.
When Zayne didn't appear in time, you were surprised. He was always so punctual, what was wrong this time?
But when you asked him where he was, he replied, "Sorry, she asked me to visit an old candy store with her, I'll be back in a few hours," and you realized he'd completely forgotten about you.
And your last message went unread.
"Zayne, but we made a reservation for today."
You sat alone for so long that people started to squint in your direction. The only option was to get up and leave the restaurant before your heart was completely shattered.
And so you did.
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Rafayel
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Usually Rafayel's studio was always open for you, so you could come to see him anytime.
But as it turned out, you weren't the only one he welcomed with open arms, day or night.
Today was your day off and you were planning to visit Rafayel so you could help him with something in his studio. He asked you to come in the first place. Usually that meant he just wanted to see you and was looking for any excuse, even the silliest one.
But instead you were met with a locked gate.
At first you thought it was just another joke, that Rafayel would come out and let you in, yet some time passed, and you continued to stand there alone. You tried to call him, but it was unsuccessful. No matter how long you waited, no one answered.
Finally you decided to call Thomas to ask him if something important had happened. Maybe Rafayel once again forgot about his own exhibition and had left in a hurry.
But it turned out you were the only one who had been forgotten.
"He said he was going to buy new paints with his bodyguard," Thomas explained. "Or something like that. Better not wait for him until evening, he's unlikely to be back before that time."
Devastated, you stood there for a while longer, thinking about his 'Ms. Bodyguard' who was spending more and more time with your beloved. It wasn't the first she took him away from you.
But this was the last straw.
You turned around, heading back home and desperately holding back tears.
It wasn't fair.
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2hightocare · 2 months
Text
LOVE WAGER! 01
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Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?
Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.
Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!
a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌
★ masterlist!
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3 years ago…
You were a hopeless romantic.
Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.
The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.
The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.
It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.
You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?
You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.
Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.
Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.
You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.
“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.
“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’
Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.
“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.
“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.
“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.
“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.
“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.
“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.
“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.
“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.
“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.
“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.
“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.
“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.
“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.
“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.
“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.
“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.
2 years ago..
The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.
You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.
“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.
Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.
“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.
“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.
“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.
“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.
As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.
“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.
He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.
“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.
“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.
You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.
“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.
“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.
“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.
“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.
“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.
His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.
“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.
“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.
“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.
“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.
“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.
He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.
“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.
You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.
A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.
“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.
Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.
“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.
“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.
“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.
Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.
He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.
Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.
Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.
He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.
He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.
Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.
Present day..
Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.
As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.
You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.
As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.
While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.
“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.
He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.
“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.
Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.
“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.
“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.
“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.
“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.
“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.
You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.
“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.
“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.
“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.
“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.
“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.
“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.
“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.
You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.
For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.
“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.
“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.
“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.
"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.
Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.
You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?
As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.
What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?
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Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)
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nanowrimo · 9 months
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How to Use Meal Scenes to Develop Characters, Relationships, and Your World
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Worldbuilding can sound complicated, but why not make it a little more simple by focusing on food? It may be the domestic touch you need! NaNo Participant Lacey Pfalz talks about using meal scenes to develop your world and your characters.
There’s one thing that remains a universal human truth: we love food! While our perspectives on food might differ, people all across the globe gather together during mealtimes — and thus, mealtimes are made memorable.
Meal scenes can also help your story in a few key ways, especially if it’s fantasy, science fiction or historical fiction.
Meal Scenes for Worldbuilding
If we’re using food for worldbuilding purposes, does that mean we can say we’re worldcooking?
Just kidding! Worldbuilding, especially in historical fiction, science fiction, and fantasy, is an integral part of what you must do as a writer (In truth, it’s also important for writers from other genres, but we’re specializing in these three today).
Meal scenes can be an important part of the worldbuilding process. Food is intrinsically tied to a culture or a country, or even a small region. That’s why it’s important, when building your own world, to take time to figure out the bare minimum of what your characters will be eating.
Let’s do an example. Your world is fantasy, your kingdom set beside a wide river. Perhaps your capital city, where much of the action is located, is surrounded by wetland.
If this is the case, what types of food would likely grow there? Seafood, fished from the large river, might be your characters’ staple proteins, while rice might grow better than another grain because of your kingdom’s wetlands. Fruit, perhaps even coconuts, might be the sweet stuff your main character loves to devour.
Remember that your world directly affects what types of food your characters will be having: is there coffee in space? What about in Byzantine Turkey or your new riverside kingdom?
Shannon Chakraborty does a phenomenal job with this in her fantasy series The Daevabad Trilogy, which is set in the eighteenth century across the Middle East. Her first book, The City of Brass, is especially good at showcasing the often-fragrant dishes of the various cultures across this region of the world (some copies of the book even have a short list of recipes from the book that foodies can try whipping up for themselves).
While her book is set within the fantastical world of the Djinn, her food is based upon recipes that have been preserved for centuries.
There’s one small reminder with all of this: it’s important not to get too caught up in describing each dish so much that you end up taking the focus away from the characters in a meal scene. Meal scenes can be breaks from fast action, but they should also continue the plot.
Meal Scenes for Developing Characters & Relationships
Character development can be hard, especially if you have a handful of characters that you love! But in order to make your readers love them too, you have to show them interacting with the world around them.
That guy we love to hate? Maybe he’s a loner who has grown up eating by himself. Having him forced to sit and eat with a group of people who have known each other for years might be an awkward moment for him, but it helps readers to learn more about his own worldview — and it might just help get him out of his shell, or at least off the love-to-hate list.
Besides helping you develop a single character, writing meal scenes with some of your characters can also help readers learn more about the relationship between your characters.
Let’s say you have your main character, MC. MC leans over and steals a French fry from her best friend. There’s no issue, right? That’s because they like each other, and the best friend has likely eaten with MC before, and knows she enjoys stealing food from other people’s plates.
But when MC tries it again, this time with the guy sitting next to her, he whacks her hand to stop her from stealing. This sparks an argument that seems, at least to everyone else watching it, pointless, but readers will know from the rest of the story that they’re the enemies-to-lovers trope. This argument is just one of many before they finally acknowledge their feelings towards one another.
See how that worked? A meal scene wasn’t useless; it pulled the story along by giving readers another taste of the enemies-to-lovers trope that so many enjoy reading.
If you need a more visible example of how this can play out, try watching a movie like Pride & Prejudice, (the book is amazing, but I’m suggesting the movie as a visual aid). The movie does a great job showcasing just how different the members of the Bennet family are individually, how they act around each other, and how they act around company.
There’s often little action in meal scenes, so they’re not meant to be overused. The plot should also still be there — take the cringey proposal scene between Mr. Collins and Elizabeth in Pride & Prejudice, for example, which follows directly after a meal when the rest of her family abandons her. In this case, the plot (and Mr. Collins’ advances) ruin her meal.
Perhaps your meal scene is the much-needed respite in between battling fierce aliens for planet Earth, or the first time your main character’s enemy-to-lover has entered her home. Either way, meal scenes are an important way to immerse your readers in what kind of world they’re imagining as well as showcasing how your characters act and — more importantly — how they act around each other.
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Lacey Pfalz is a travel journalist by day, hopeful author by night. She belongs to the class of graduates she dubs the Class of COVID-19, having graduated with a double major in history and writing at Wisconsin Lutheran College in 2020. Her writing passions include fantasy, science fiction and historical fiction (with a little bit of romance, of course!). As someone with a physical disability, it’s her dream to write a fantasy series featuring a main character like her. Header Image by Jack Sparrow
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pennyblossom-meta · 2 months
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Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.
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EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.
A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.
I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.
There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.
The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.
Character analysis
As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.
However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.
L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred. L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else. L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right? L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.
Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.
Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.
L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive. L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be. L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.
L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls. L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home. L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.
L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by. L: There’s something different about the air at night. L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.
As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.
This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.
L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire. L: Another day, another mystery… L: I have a lot of thinking to do. L: I feel like doing some capoeira… L: I haven't played tennis for a while. L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not. L: I, um… No, ignore me. L: Am I reading too much into it…?
As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.
I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?
L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone. L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally. L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing. L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.
He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.
As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.
L: Um, Watari is… L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep? L: What could Watari be up to? L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.
I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.
Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.
Romance
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Neutral stage
One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.
L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me. L: Don’t you have stuff to do?
At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.
L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)
It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.
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Growing interest
L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad. L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh? L: You must be a night owl, [F/N]. L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N]. L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious. L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.
He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.
Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.
As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.
L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset? L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked? L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.
It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.
And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.
L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.
I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.
That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.
L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy. L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable. L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust. L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day) L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.
And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.
"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:
a) no one showed feelings towards him before. In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large. It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this. This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives. That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari). The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him. When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot. It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.
b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure. Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with. However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's). For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness. To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.
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Full reciprocity
L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but… L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart. L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve. L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.
When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.
Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.
Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.
L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets. L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here. L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond. L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets. L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court. L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker. L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.
I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.
Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.
L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together. L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you. L: The way I am now, I… I can���t think straight when you’re not around. L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more. L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more… L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.
What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.
This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.
As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:
“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”
I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.
As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.
Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.
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