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pia-nor481 · 2 months

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She…what? Chapter Two

Lando Norris x reader, hints at Daniel Ricciardo x reader

2.6k words SMUT

Chapter One | Series Masterlist

"Oh Lando, I can't give you everything now, then nothing will bring you back." Her words never left his mind, it truly infected him. Lando knew, that no matter what, he would see her again; from just a kiss he was addicted. He climbed out of bed slowly, annoyed with himself for being so hard at the thought of her. It was early, even for him, Wednesdays were often more taxing than the actual race, the first few hours were perfectly fine, but then the repeat questions would get irritating and Lando would slowly lose his patience. His feet padded loudly towards the shower, hard cock aching, his eyes were barely open as he stepped past the glass door, hot water relaxing him. He felt every muscle in his body relax as soon as his hand reached his cock. Every time Lando masturbated he did, relatively, the same thing, a tight grip and a fast pace. His forehead hit the wall softly as a quiet sigh escaped his mouth. He could feel the build up of ecstasy already, clearly still excited from his dream.

It felt almost lucid, the feeling of her cunt around his cock, or the scratches against his back. She was screaming his name in pleasure as the bed below them became surreally wet as she convulsed around him and writhing below him. Almost as if it was all real, until the alarm of his hotel neighbour awoke him. This was the first time that Lando had ever dreamed, so he was surprised that he even remembered it. But he was the most shocked that he was masturbating to it, this was the first time, in a while, that he was touching himself without some form of porn in front of him. Maybe that's why he was already so close to the edge. Squeezing his cock tight as his hand jerked up and down faster than before, loud huffs and groans leaving his mouth, echoing off the walls. Lando was barely able to control himself now, imagining her cum, the thought of her mouth wide open pushed him to the edge, he painted the wall white with a choked moan. "Fuck." He was out of breath, practically gasping for air.

A blush rose to his cheeks at the thought of what he just did. Lando made quick work of washing his curls, sure he was a little hazed, but he needed to rid of his thoughts as quickly as possible. He was clad in his usual McLaren polo as he rushed out of the Hilton room, if it wasn't for his neighbour's alarm he would have been late. He closed the door with haste and walked as fast as physically possible, not wanting to give Oscar the satisfaction of arriving at the motorhome before him. As he reached the lift he was met with a familiar smile. "Morning, Lando. Sleep alright?" Daniel was far too happy at such an hour, he pushed the ground floor button and braced for the unusual movement. "Yeah, it was alright. Just a bit worried about the car is all." That was a lie, Lando had slept great, other than the pain of waking hard. "It seems you had quite the eventful night." Lando huffed, motioning to his neck. A slight wave of panic washed over Daniel before he began to button up his shirt further. "Morning actually." Lando groan was all that could be heard, "Good head?" Daniel laughed manically as his spine became parallel to the the ground. The door opened and they walked out slowly. "Don't be jealous, you'll find out soon."

They walked through the paddock almost peacefully, ignoring the world around them, this was until Daniel had reached his team and they had to part ways. Without noise, the thoughts of her came rushing back, Lando reached for his phone and headphones and panicked upon seeing the time. He practically ran towards Mclaren, receiving strange looks from those around him. Once he reached the door he was met with Oscar who had a large smirk on his face. "I'm keeping count, you know that?" Petty is not a word many would use to describe the Australian driver, but Lando was resisting the urge, a disappointed look adorned his face. "Are you alright, Mate?" They didn't have an extremely close relationship for a while, and both were to blame. Lando was upset that Daniel wasn't his teammate anymore, just as he was with Carlos, and so was a bit standoffish, often making the unconscious decision not to start convocations with Oscar, but he would never be outright mean or dismissive. Oscar on the other hand was quite shy, mostly due to his nerves and introverted nature. They were almost complete opposites and that could be difficult to work with. But eventually, after being forced to spend time with each other, they got relatively close. Oscar even stating he was closest with Lando on the grid. "I'm fine, just a bit distracted is all." Lando explained, rubbing his eyes as if he was tired. "Yeah I can tell." Oscar laughed, unzipping his hoodie and handing it to Lando, who was completely baffled. The Australian nodded his head down, and muffled another giggle with his hand. "Thanks...That's fucking embarrassing." Oscar slapped his shoulder lightly, "Nah, not if they've got you that excited... New partner?" Lando shook his head as they made their way to the meeting room, "We aren't together, but its hard not to think of her. Genuinely I can't stop." The conversation was making Lando feel worse, He'd only known her for a few days, yet here he is, walking around work hard, talking to his teammate about a woman he's not even hooked up with. "You'll be alright, I'm excited to meet her." Oscar winked while letting out a light laugh, knowing Lando wasn't too great at speaking to women, not that he was one to talk.

After the fifth question about the comparison of this years car and the last Lando became angsty and sluggish. He was bored and in all honesty just wanted to be in the car, racing 19 others, desperate to win. His spine was curved slightly and his mind wandered; thinking about anything but the car. His microphone picked up the vibration of his phone. Lando was grateful that they were all being dismissed, so he could go back to the hotel and relax, maybe sleep a little more. Daniel walked past Lando and simply stated "Talk to you later, yeah?" He knew Lando needed so assurance and support, not just within racing, but also with this relationship of sorts. "Yeah, definitely." What they both missed was Oscar's piercing gaze, he was close enough that he could see them talking, but far enough that he couldn't hear the words. Nevertheless, Lando grabbed his things and began walking to his hotel, finally unlocking his phone.

"I'll see you tonight, room 693"

Lando was excited, usually the unknown sparked fear, but not Lando, he couldn't help but smile widely in the lift. He was filled with Deja vu when he finally approached the door, bouncing slightly to ease the nerves. He knocked quietly just before the door opened and was met with her, and oh gorgeous she was. "Hello Lando." She gestured for him to come in, and he raised an eyebrow, seeing her fully dressed. He wasn't particularly sure as to what he was expecting, but this room was almost completely empty. Lando stilled and looked behind him, noticing the door was closed, yet she was nowhere to be found. "I saw your interviews, well only some, I don't know how you do it." She practically appeared before him, and his shoulders lowered as he began to relax, enjoying the warm tone of her voice. He could listen to her speak for hours, he wanted to, Lando wanted to hear everything she had to say, everything about her. "You've been working so hard. How about I reward you?" She questioned with a sweet smile as she dropped to her knees.

"Oh yeah?" Her only response was a quiet hum as she ran her hands over his thighs teasing him slightly, not that he needed it. She could feel the tightening of his muscles as she danced cross his body, she tapped lightly a few times, waiting to se if he would break, testing his patience, but he didn't whine, beg or even comment, he just let her continue her venture. In reality it took Lando everything he had not to make a noise, he was focused on feeling her. He wanted to remember every moment. She pulled on the hoodie around his waist, inspecting it before throwing it across the room. "Who's is this?" Lando was pulled out his trance at the question yet it took him a moment to form a coherent sentence. "It's Oscar's, my teammate." The clarification gave her a moment to pause, before touching him again; She palmed his impossibly hard cock through his trousers, pulling a low moan- that he tried to cover up with a slightly louder groan. She made a mental note that she needed to encourage his voice more, but that was an issue for later.

"Do you like him?" Lando's mind was clouded, the feeling of release was coursing through his body, and it made thinking difficult, so she asked again, pausing her movements, hoping to receive an answer. "Yeah, he's alright." He struggled finishing the last part of the sentence as she began to pull the zip of his trousers down. "He must be more than alright, if he's giving you his things for no reason." She simply stated, look up at Lando, who's eyes were closed, one hand in his hair, tugging on it slightly. "Well, he didn't give it to me for no reason." She stilled her movements, waiting for him to continue, " I um.. You said no judging right?" He was apprehensive to even think about it, let alone say. "Of course." Her hands rested against her thighs as soon as she noticed the blush on his cheeks. "He...noticed that I was hard and you know, didn't think letting me embarrass myself was a good idea." Lando felt like a small weight was lifted off his chest, letting go a a breath he was unaware he was even holding. "Why were you so hard then? hm." She said in a flirty tone, pulling his boxers down, getting excited when she saw his cock bounce slightly, hitting his abdomen. "You...even just the thought of you." She was taken aback from his statement, this feeling was accompanied with a sense of flattery. No one had ever said such a thing to her face, she could feel an ache developing in her lower body, but she pushed that thought to the side, choosing to focus on Lando. "I'm pleased that you feel so strongly, Lando. If I'm honest, I haven't been able to stop thinking of you. It's been so hard to focus." She emphasised the 'so' in a rather teasing tone while grasping the shaft of his cock lightly, keeping the grip loose. She began to stroke slowly, teasing lightly, waiting for a noise to slip from his lips.

"Please, I've been hard for hours." It wasn't much of a beg from the driver, yet he couldn't help but comply. She licked a long slow stripe along the underside of his cock, which earned a choked moan and a curse of her name. She was quick to slip the tip past her lips and lick with a light pressure, careful not to overstimulate him, he placed a hand on the top of her head, careful not to push down, not knowing whether she liked it or not. She sucked the tip for a few moments before beginning to bob her head, taking about half of him into her mouth, creating a vacuum every few bobs. Lando's breath was already becoming ragged ,those breaths became gasps when the sensitive head brushed the top of her mouth. Her jaw didn't even become tired, yet she could already feel him twitching, the grip on her head becoming harder. "Please, need to so bad, baby." Lando was barely able to choke out. He could feel his, muscles tensing and hips thrusting so slightly in desperation. She made the quick decision to focus on the tip and suck harder, and faster. Lando's huffs and groans became louder until he could no longer take it, tipping over the edge unexpectedly, ecstasy filling his body as one final groan left his mouth before he was panting. As soon as she felt his cum touch her tongue she slowed, but didn't stop, draining him the best she could. "Ah fuck, Baby, so good."

She pulled away smiling, joyful was the only way to describe her reaction. Lando's face was painted with bliss as he smiled so softly, joining her on the floor. He kissed her cheek sweetly before burying his head in her neck, wrapping his arms around her body. Pulling her close, causing them to fall backwards, her chest flush with his. Lando's hand slid down towards her cunt, but she caught his wrist quickly. "Not yet, Baby. You need some rest." She whispered kissing him softly. "You really are a tease." He laughed, hugging her tighter as she slapped his chest. They stayed there for a while, Lando was basking in her presence, just enjoying her. He didn't want to ever leave, feeling elated was making it hard for him, he knew that he'd struggle to be away from her, Lando was truly enchanted. Eventually, she fell asleep against him so Lando made quick work of picking her up, and walking her to the bed, she looked peaceful and he felt wrong for wanting to disturb her. With her body placed gently under the covers, Lando kissed her softly before walking as quiet as possible and gently closing the door behind himself.

Lando walked down the hallway free of care as he looked for Daniel's ,room, excited to tell him about his endeavours. He knocked twice and waited for the Australian to open the door. He was met with white enchante jumper. "Hey." Lando said, matching Daniel's smile. "It seems you've had quite the eventful evening." Daniel laughed as Lando walked in. "So...I was right?" They sat at opposite ends of the bed as Lando began his little rant. "I'm still in awe, I've never had head that good, I'm just struggling to comprehend it." Lando was giddy, more so than usual. They talked for a while, mostly about her, and what she could do. But it was quickly getting late and they still needed to prepare for the practice the following day. Lando begrudgingly stood up and walked towards the door. "Lando." Daniel raised his voice slightly to grab the attention of the other driver. "Just you wait." He smirked.

As soon as the door closed he was reaching for his phone, ready to call her. "Hello?" She struggled to get out. "Oh were you asleep?" Daniel almost whispered out, faking sympathy. "Yeah, it's okay though. Are you alright? Usually you come barging into my room when you want something." He laughed as he laid his head against the pillow. "Well, technically it's my room." She couldn't argue with him there, he paid for all her hotels and flights whenever there was a race, or if there wasn't a race, he'd make sure she was with him. "Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice." She giggled at his blatant lie as she slipped the McLaren hoodie over her shoulders. "Okay, Okay. I'm just making sure you're still up for tomorrow morning. See I even have my hand or my heart."

"Of course, anything for you Danny."

Chapter three

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #daniel ricciardo x reader

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evilminji · 5 months

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:O !!! Wait a second... GHOST DINOSAURS!!!

They died. There are ghost animals. You CAN NOT tell me getting fuckin nuked from space by a GIANT rock that blasted you and everything you've ever known into near instantaneous oblivion, wouldn't leave some Unfinished Business and a shit ton of Ectoplasm.

BILLIONS of things died all at once.

Did most move on? Probably. We're any of them sentient? We have no idea! Maybe! Unlikely, but maybe! Still a MASSIVE, countries wide, molten earth lined, crater of instant death. World shaking and history making. Death in the blink of an eye.

If you're lucky.

But! I hear the arguments now. That was one event. The X or Y dinosaur lived before that! What I'm interested in came AFTER! Good points! But not RELAVENT!!! Because you know what ELSE that giant fuck-off meteor is good for? Aside for Death(tm)?

Television.

Makes for some damn good documentaries. Exciting graphics and neato visual effects. Ooooh~ look at our dramatic recreation! The cute baby animals, unsuspecting of their Doomed Fate~! Tense music! And now, a world from our advertisers!

You know who LIKES Space Documentaries? Danny. He's all ABOUT that Science Channel. Granted, they've been pulling more and more of these mid-tear "aliens built the pyramids" and "look at these swords!" Shows... but! Still! He grew up on this channel! He doesn't WANT to give up on it!

And, yeah, this is... kinda hammy... but it's still watchable!

He's enjoying the live tweeting from paleontologists who are ROASTING the thing to a lovely golden brown. Has choked on his noodles like three times already. It's great! But now? They are arguing over what the dinosaurs actually looked like again... and??

And, look, maybe it's the good mood and boredom. Maybe it's having the house to himself. Maybe it's his parents finally encouraging him to use his "ghostiness" for SCIENCE(tm)(!) the other day. Could even be his bad idea impulse acting up again, buuuuut.....

Teeeeechnically?

Nothing? Is STOPPING him? From finding out? He DOES have Zone compatible cameras. And can probably back trace where they should-ish be? He can find out. The colors might be off, but it's a starting point? Right? And heck, he's pretty sure inverse coloration in standard unless someone's shape-shifting, so he'd just have to inverse it AGAIN to get an approximately correct coloration for them!

....eh, as long as he leaves a "not exact, this was the best I could get" note, it should be fine.

Road Trip time! Better call Dani and see if she wants to ride a few giant mammals and some lizards!

(Needless to say? Some researchers get VERY exciting emails. And only accept they are POSSIBLE, because this is a DC crossover. So there is aliens and magic regularly popping up in their field of expertise, so WHY NOT? Just the other day, a whole ass TOWN that has been wiped out... got UN-wiped out! 23 years later! It's made headlines. Weird shit happens.

So gib. Release to them the Dinosaurs, mystery email man. Fork them over before they begin biting. You think this corduroy jacket means they won't hunt you down? HA! You know NOTHING of academics! WHERE ARE THE EXTINCT ANIMALS? Where are you hiding them!?!?)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @nerdpoe @ailithnight @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom

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abbeym28 · 4 months

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Clarisse x Reader - Once More to See You

Clarisse x gn! reader, any cabin

An- sorry this took so long to get out! Anyways, thank you guys so much for liking my other Clarisse fics! This is my fourth one, so I hope that they get better with the more I write, but pls let me know if this is bad! Idk where my mind was when I wrote this lol. 3.3k words! Let me know if I messed anything up, and tell me what you guys thought of the last pjo ep! Dior looked as beautiful as always!!!!

Warnings!- nightmares, kissing, affection, mentions of training and weapons, pet names, pls let me know if something was missed!

The sun was almost to much to bear.

Beating down on Clarisse, it was almost melting. But she continued to swing her spear at the training dummy, hitting as hard as she could while making sure to be acutely aware of where she was landing the hits.

She was also very aware of the eyes that followed her every move.

She knew that it was you, the only person at camp she allowed to get close to her. For some reason.

“Do you want to train with me?” She paused to yell and to look over at you.

“I’ll pass.” You were standing on the sidelines holding Clarisse's water bottle and her towel. She looked back at the dummy once before relaxing a bit and walking over to you. She grabbed the water and jugged it.

“How's day goin’ for you, angel?” You rolled your eyes just a bit and smiled at her nickname for you. She has called you that ever since you two really became friends, and almost gone is the flustered feeling it used to give you.

Almost.

“Really good actually, pretty girl.” Clarisse then took that chance to roll her eyes back at you, but the sun was definitely getting hotter because there was definitely no other reason why Clarisse’s face was feeling so warm all of the sudden, even after her intake of cool water.

“Oh yeah? What have you been doing?” She took the towel that you had extended to her and sat down on the closest bench. She nodded along as you recounted your day and how you spent the most of it doing crafts and training with the younger campers. She sat and listened until it was time for dinner, where the two of you sat side by side at the Ares table, even though it wasn’t technically allowed.

A few of her siblings teased the two of you, but it was a common occurrence, so they all knew that this was normal and would continue to be so. But they also couldn't just let it slide.

Clarisse made sure you were close by the rest of the night, completing both of your nightly routines that have over time molded together to make sure that they could fit like a puzzle piece.

She walked you to your cabin, and just like on any other night, there was a slight itch in her hand and the thought in her brain that she should be holding on to you in some way.

Linked hands, her arm around your shoulder, her hand guiding you whilst being placed on the small of your back. All feel like they could be the most natural thing in the world, if only your relationship could be just a little different.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Your question broke her from her thoughts and she just nodded.

“Yeah. Sleep tight, got it?” You smiled and hesitated before pulling her in for a quick hug. She tried to get over her surprise fastly, but you were quicker to end the hug then she was able to melt into you.

“So, um… goodnight.” You turned and walked into your cabin, Clarisse and one of your siblings who had witnessed the event watching with wide eyes. She made eye contact with them, and her shock dropped from her face. “Scram.” Your sibling nodded and wordlessly walked past her, going to some place she could care less about.

She stood there for another minute or so, her hand covering the bottom off her face as she sighed. The sun was gone now, but for some reason, her face felt all too hot right now.

She was beginning to think that the reason and cause had to do something with you.

Clarisse woke with a start the minute the creak of a floor board was heard across the cabin. She had practically trained herself to be awake at any moment, though she could mostly thank her fathers genes for that convenient trait.

None of her siblings seemed to have got it though, since none of them had even stirred.

She squinted her eyes to try to see through the darkness. “Hello?” she whispered out. The outline of a person stuck standing near the doorway visibly let some tension out of their shoulders as they began to move towards her, seemingly uncaring of the other little creaks that the old wood would let out.

“Clarisse?” Clarisse also then let out a breath, as well as a lot of the tension she was also holding.

“Angel? What are you doing here?” She sat up a bit more properly and scooted more to the side of her bed that was touching the wall, patting the now empty wedge, the sheets still wrinkled from the few hours of tossing and turning and sleep she had got.

You moved into that space next to her, bringing your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped around your legs.

Uh oh. Clarisse thought. The fetal position was never a good sign.

She hesitated before reaching her own arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer to her, hoping that you could soak in some of the warmth Ares kids were notorious to have.

But she was still an Ares kid.

Comfort was not something she was really familiar with.

“What happened?” Her mind began to wander a bit, thinking that you must have gotten hurt. But who would hurt you knowing they would have to face her wrath? Her hands shook a little as she went through a list in her mind of potential people. It must have been one of your siblings, probably the one who-

“I had a nightmare.” Your voice was barely audible, but just the sound almost instantly calmed Clarisse down.

“Yeah? Do you want to talk about it? Or….” you shook your head no. “Do you want to stay the night here?”

You shifted a bit to look at her, and she noticed your eyes were a bit red and puffy. She wondered a bit about what could have happened in your dream if it made you have this strong of a reaction. All demigods got nightmares, you and Clarisse being no exception.

But this was the first time you had ever sought the other out like this.

“Can I?” You whispered.

“Any time.” She gently coaxed you out of your position so that way the two of you could lay flat on your backs, her arm still protectively holding you. “You know that I’m super strong, right? Whatever was scary in your dream was definitely no match against me.” You giggled, and Clarisse smiled.

She then spent some time talking about how she could protect you against anything, right until you fell asleep. She watched you for a moment, the peaceful look and the rise and fall of your chest bringing her comfort. She gently pushed a bit of hair away from your face and refused the urge in which was telling to place a kiss on your forehead.

She settled beside you, and sleep came easier for her then it had ever been since she had found out she was the daughter of war.

Sunlight streamed a bit too harshly through the windows making Clarisse try to close her eyes tighter. She groaned when she realized it was useless.

Someone cuddled in closer to her, their arms getting stronger around her waist. She tensed up a bit before remembering last night. The both of you were laying on your sides facing each other, all of your limbs seemed to be entangled with hers. She leaned into you more and began to close her eyes again.

That was before she heard the giggles of her siblings.

Her eyes shot open, and there were some of her brothers and sisters, standing above her bed, two of them with cameras. “What the fu- get away! Get!” She whisper- yelled, trying her best to not be close to your ear while making sure you didn't move much. Her siblings just laughed, took a picture, and then ran out of the cabin, their heavy steps making her flinch.

“What time is it?” Your voice distracted her from glaring at the still left open door. Her eyes flickered to her alarm clock. “It’s almost nine.” You hummed and burrowed your face into her neck.

She tried to ignore that.

Clarisse was always an early riser. Sleeping in any time after seven made her moody, and naps were completely out of the question and annoying to her.

So how was she able to sleep till nine, breaking her 5:30 wake up and missing both of her alarms? And why did she feel so… rejuvenated? Were you numbing her senses?

“We should get up.” You looked up at her, your eyes all sleepy and a small frown on your face.

“You don’t want to stay with me?”

Oh.

The room felt a bit hotter all of the sudden.

“Don’t you have classes to teach? The kids can't learn how to craft all by themselves.” She smirked as you blinked at her. You groaned and sat up, cutting off the skin contact and effectively making Clarisse feel colder and as if she was missing something.

“You’re lucky that I like what I do. I’ll see you at lunch, ‘kay?” You smiled at her and got up, stretching as you left her cabin to walk to yours.

All Clarisse could think about was; "is she actually lucky?"

The rest of the day seemed to go like normal, with you and Clarisse doing your separate duty’s while still finding times and places where the two of you could meet.

She was able to track and threaten her siblings, the ones who had taken the pictures of you two sleeping. She confiscated the camera, but when no one else was looking she pocketed one of the photos.

For safekeeping. She justified to herself.

To make sure that no one else would see it.

That night when you said your good nights, you hugged her again. This time it was a hug she was able to lean into, one that she was able to savor.

She was about to offer you to stay with her again, just another night. But the words got stuck in her throat as you pulled away.

“Stay safe, promise?'' Your words made her curious, but she wasn’t going to question you. It clicked that this was probably because of your dream.

“Have you even met me?” She laughed a bit, and you smiled at her softly.

It made her falter a bit. If any enemies were just a smidge like her, then that smile alone would stop an army.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I promised the kids that we would teach the sword class together.” She sounded a bit breathless, and she hoped that it was only in her mind. You hesitated, but nodded.

“See you tomorrow.”

Clarisse has been on edge ever since the clock turned to twelve. It was around this time that you had come to her yesterday, and even though it was a one time event, (or so she figured it would be), it felt like there was a pit in her stomach, and she couldn't help but feel like you were in some sort of danger.

She was almost ready to jump off her bed and speed walk to your cabin.

“Clarisse, can you stop?” One of her siblings whispered from some other bunk and she sighed. She realized that she was tossing and turning louder than she thought.

“I’m taking a walk.” She flipped the sheets off of her and walked out the door, making her way silently to your cabin. There were only a handful of times that she has been in here, but she knew where your bed was.

You were tossing and turning worse then how she was, sweat dripping down your chin to your neck. She gently touched your shoulder, something she knew she probably shouldn't have done, but it was enough to wake you from your sleep.

You sat up fast, your chest moving rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. You gulped.

“Clarisse? What… why are you here?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at her, still breathing hard.

“I felt that you weren't okay. Another nightmare?” You nodded as she continued to stand above you.

“Well, if you're okay, I'm gonna- I’ll… leave.” She turned around, but your hand caught her wrist with a tight grip before she was able to get far.

“Can you… can you stay?'' You were looking at her with those eyes again, and her breath was gone as well.

“Yeah. I can.” Her voice was too soft, a soft that would make her father distaste her even more. But she climbed into your bed, and for another night she slept with you in her arms.

The two of you occupied each other's beds for the next month, but neither of you spoke of the tension that riddled the space between you.

Nightmares didn't plague you any more, and Clarisse was getting better sleep then she had ever gotten before. That was until Chiron called her to his office.

“A quest?” Chiron nodded.

“Yes, one that was provided by one of the gods themselves, Hera. She asked for an Ares kid to complete this for her. You’ll think about it, won’t you?”

Clarisse nodded slowly.

“Perfect. Now, get back to your activities.”

Clarisse left his office like that. Her mind was clouded, and she didn't really know what to do.

Of course she had to take it, this was another great opportunity to show how great she was to her dad, and how far her training has come.

But she couldn't help thinking: what about you? How would you be if she had left? Quests could take up any amount of time, and what if something happened to her? Or you while she was away?

“What was that about?” Luke appeared next to her, catching her by surprise. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“A quest. They specifically want me.” Luke nodded, and he had that weird thoughtful look on his face that made Clarisse’s nose wrinkle.

The two of them hardly got along well, but as cabin counselors they had to be civil. She looked around at the trees as they walked together towards the training ground, that is until Luke spoke your name.

“Do they know?” He asked. She shook her head.

“No other campers but you knows.” He just nodded his head again. He smirked and looked at her.

“Can't wait to see how that goes.” And then he turned and walked the other way, leaving Clarisse standing there in slight shock. What was that about? Did he know something she didn’t?

She shook it off the best that she could before walking to where you were.

There was a smile on your face as you helped an eight year old boy from the Hermes cabin hold his sword properly. She watched as you stepped back and let him swing it at the target, clapping your hands and laughing a bit once he finally got it right. He ran to give you a hug, and you hugged him back, and she could tell from where she was that you were praising his abilities. Clarisses heart felt so full, and all though she thought it was impossible, she could swear she was falling for you even more.

Maybe Silena was right, and she is a stickler for domesticy. Maybe a quest wasn't what would make her truly happy. Maybe it was a life with you.

“Clarisse!” You were running towards her and she caught you in a hug.

“Hey. I was actually hoping that we could talk for a bit.” The smile stayed on your face while confusion clouded your eyes and your eyebrows furrowed.

“Sure, okay.”

The two of you walked into the forest together, stopping in a clearing which happened to be Clarisse’s favorite place at camp. Other than wherever you were. You took her hand in yours in a way that she assumed you thought would bring her comfort, but it just made her heart beat faster.

“The gods want me to go on a quest.” She blurted out. Your face and mood fell and you took your hand out of her grip gently.

“And what did you say?”

“Well, I'm technically still thinking about it, but I think that this could be good for me. Hera wants this thing done for her, and you know that I have trained for this, and it would be nice if my father would recognize me at least once. But I also- Angel? Are you okay?”

You looked as if you were about to cry, one hand hovering over where your heart is and the other almost covering your mouth. You were shaking like a leaf in the wind, and Clarisse didn’t like it one bit.

She moved towards you, placing her hands on either side of your shoulders and helping you sit on the ground. She put your face in between her collarbone and neck, stroking your hair softly as you sniffled.

“What’s wrong?” She was unsure that you would answer, but you shifted your head a bit back.

“This is just like my nightmare.”

It all kind of made sense now.

“I had them, for like, a week before I first went to your cabin. It’s always the same some how, with you accepting a quest from Hera and never returning, or you go missing and I have to be the one to find your body, or I go with you and I can’t do anything about that stupid monster you fight, and I just-” You were crying, Clarisse could practically feel them burn into her skin.

“I don’t want to lose you Clarisse. Not on a dumb quest or ever. I don’t know what to do without you.” Clarisse nodded a bit and fiddled with a piece of your hair.

“I chased away the dreams though, right?” She had no clue if you would appreciate any type of small joke she made, and she figured she was dead when you pulled away from her a little and looked into her eyes, your lips slightly parted in what she could only guess was surprise.

Then you leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.

She was surprised, just like how she was when you had first hugged her. You pulled away quicker this time, fear evading finding your eyes for the split second before Clarisse pulled you back in, returning the kiss you first started with as much passion as she could possibly convey. You were both breathless the next moment once you realized that you had to get air.

“I don’t know what to do about the quest.” Clarisse whispered. She didn’t know why she did, but she felt like something could break if she didn’t.

“I don’t know either.” You responded, your voice as low as hers.

“I-... I think I like you.” Clarisse confessed.

Although they weren't exactly the words she wanted to say, (She knew for a fact that she was in love with you), but it still felt as if a slight weight was lifted off of her. You leaned back into her, so close that she could practically feel the smile that grew on your face on her lips.

“I think I like you too, pretty girl.” And she smiled too.

“Why do you call me that?” She tilted her head as you leaned back and laughed.

“Because you're pretty.”

The way you said it with so much certainty, as if you knew she could rival Aphrodite herself, made Clarisse feel bubbly, and she wasn’t someone who would ever really feel like that.

She didn't know what she would do about the quest.

She didn’t know what you would do if you found out if she ever accepted, or what punishment she would face if she were to turn it down.

But Clarisse La Rue was in love with you, and she would protect you from those nightmares for as long as you let her.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #clarisse pjo #dior goodjohn #clarisse x reader

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fairyhaos · 1 year

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✰ seventeen as boyfriends: jeonghan edition

event taglist (send ask to be added): @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @belladaises @wheeboo @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love @dandycharmer

pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, headcanons, mini scenario

word count: 531

warnings: one curse word

notes: jeonghan edn. for the 500 event

so, so sweet and soft

the most attentive. is always keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re okay, even if it looks like he’s absorbed in the most nonsensical conversation in the world with seungkwan

it's all an act, bc he's actually paying The Most attention to you, always

that bf who puts his hand over a table corner/ the top of a frame when you’re ducking under it so you don’t hit your head against it. does it almost without thinking i swear

also a teasing lil shit tho like

reminds you every other month of the way you used to be a stuttering mess around him back when you didn’t know each other well and he was just your crush

wiggles his eyebrows all annoying and mimics your voice in a ridiculous pitch as he pretends to be a flustered you

gets hit over the head with your hands/ a pillow/ anything within reach every single time

also: he pretends that he wouldn’t, but jeonghan would do absolutely anything for you.

yields in practically every game if he’s playing against you and you want to win really badly. sacrifices going to see his favourite things first when on holiday if it means he gets to follow you around as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, the grin wide on your face

it’s not like he’s doing nothing that he wants, bc you still go to the beach w him and watch the puppet shows he wants to, but there’s something so much more gratifying about watching your face positively aglow with joy.

“Jeonghan. Jeonghan.”

“Shh, I’m sleeping,” Jeonghan mumbles, trying to bury his face into the pillows. It’s late at night, and you’ve been poking him for god knows how many minutes straight, and he loves you but he also really loves his sleep. “What is it?”

“I just want to know something,” you say, and your voice is clear and awake, making him roll over to squint at you blearily.

“What?”

You shrug, and even in the darkness, your thoughtful expression is visible. He knows that this either means you’re going to spout utter nonsense or something incredibly meaningful. “I just wondered what would happen if we’d just stayed as friends.”

Jeonghan leans his head back, looking up at you as you prop yourself up onto your elbows on the mattress. “Why are you thinking about that?”

“Dunno,” you reply. “Just… what would have happened if, rather than accepting my confession, you’d just rejected me?”

Jeonghan furrows his eyebrows. Even in his sleep-addled brain, that didn’t sound right. “I would never have done that.”

“Yeah, but what if?”

“There’s no what if,” he says, and tugs you back down so you’re lying next to him again. “Don’t say weird things. I wanna sleep.”

You don’t protest as he wrangles you around so you're facing him, his chin resting on the top of your head, arms around you under the duvets. “But what—”

“No what ifs, love,” he says, and his voice gets blurrier as he slips into sleep again, with you safe and secure in his arms. “I was always going to love you.”

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revacholianpizzaagenda · 4 months

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Apocalyptic squirreling

We're not, like, impaling these quotes like the proverbial shrike or anything, just hoarding them away in a nice stash. A collection of Disco Elysium tidbits about the end of the world compiled by @yekokataa and I, feel free to add!

...starting with the game's earliest teaser trailer.

(28 rather than 27 could be its own odd math, there's some miscounting in the text now and then just like there's the occasional typo, or it could follow the fact that the year of canon events was changed at some point. for that matter, the infamous 22 years to the nuke should be 21, like it originally followed that same 28 and wasn't edited - consistently, the variable it flags is ice.andre_hyper_rc_succ_28)

(this is an example of odd math to me, for the record, as it's 365x27 to the day. It could be it's the EXACT count and also that Elysium doesn't have leap years, but I would've expected a less precise number, personally)

Ours has actual six thousand years of history: it spans from its own version of the early Bronze Age (Perikarnassian period) to the early Middle Ages (Franconigerian period), to the Renaissance (Dolorian period), right up to a decade we call “The Seventies”. It’s a world like ours, one that has evolved culturally and technologically over widely varied periods of time. No Truce With the Furies takes place in the modernity of this world.

(source)

Q: How tight is the connection between the book and the game? Is it a Witcher-like situation? KURVITZ: Things in this world are connected to each other like things in our world are connected to each other – not like things are connected to each other in Star Wars. The book and the game share themes and historical developments. The book is set in the early seventies and the game is set in the early fifties. They are connected the way two stories set in our world would be. The fault-lines developing in the fifties are more apparent in the seventies. The situation has worsened, the political climate has shifted, but there is no Skywalker saga. The main story in Elysium is history.

(source)

yes yes we've all seen the nuke convo but let's put it here for completionism's sake

This connection - saying 22 instead of 27, or 28 as the variable reminds us - could seem strange based on game data alone, but it neatly follows the context of the book, which shows us that the bombing of Revachol is one and the same as the material beginning of the end of the world.

This one is also a fun book throwback, from apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert to apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert

(being appreciative of that kind of future just nets you a YEEEAGH)

more personally ominous than globally ominous but ominous nonetheless

("we become vapour" being, of course, the planned title of the eventual Elysium tabletop setting rulebook. sigh.)

This one's intriguing, isn't it? With an eye to Le Retour...

Her echoes of the other dialogue options are similarly ominous, for the record.

And we don't know if Nilsen had visions of his own (the man sounds well-acquainted with his Half Light, on behalf of the war crimes, so it's not... entirely out of the question) but we do know that his pocket calculator lap cat second-bestie very much did and could've been his source.

Also a strong book callback, among other things. Remember kids: object permanence!

Harry, all these quotes like this one sound like they would make sense for the actual guy who goes and blows it all up, not you personal-

...ah yes. Ambrosius looms... yeah buddy it sure is solemn AND historical, I'm afraid:

and of course, in closing:

🥲

...for the remaining 276 pages of Elysium tidbits about the end of the world, of course, over here.

#disco elysium #yekokataa #fayde-weaving #or something

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justagalwhowrites · 3 months

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Yearling - Ch. 30: Blood

Joel and Tommy run into trouble on patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-29 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 7.5k

A/N: Hi y’all, I’m stashing this whole chapter below a jump because it’s been brought to my attention that the major event of this chapter is less common knowledge and more of a spoiler than I really realized it was. There is a major plot point for TLOU2 below. I’m sorry I didn’t tag the whole fic that way (going back to update that now) and I apologize if this spoiled things for people who were trying to go in blind. This is the first chapter with any big overlap and if you want to bow out now, I totally understand. My DMs are open if you want to know more without full spoilers and if there’s a way to keep reading without knowing the plot of TLOU2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Dina kissed me.”

“What!” You yelped and Ellie’s eyes went wide before she clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhh!” She looked around, her breath rising in front of her. But the only people out right now were inside the stable, a good 50 feet behind you and far enough away that you doubted any of them heard you, even if you were loud. “Jesus, Bambi…”

She released your mouth and you tried not to giggle.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Good for you, kiddo! Told you not to count the girl out because she also fucks men…”

“There’s no way she meant it,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Get real.”

“Why not?” You asked, brows raised. “Why shouldn’t she mean it?”

“Because she’s Dina,” Ellie said, as though that explained everything. You just looked at her and she rolled her eyes again. “She was just trying to stir shit up because her and Jesse split up…”

“Uh huh.”

“And I was convenient,” she finished. “That’s it, that’s all it was…”

“And you know this because you asked her, I’m sure.”

“Fuck off,” she snapped. “Look, I didn’t drag you out here to figure that shit out…”

“You sure about that?”

“I dragged you out here,” she said, ignoring you, “to try and figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.”

“Kiss her again,” you shrugged. “That’s what I’d do…”

“I’m being serious!” She hissed at you. “I have to go on patrol with her in like half an hour, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

You sighed and smiled a little, putting your hands in the pockets of the coat Joel had given back to you that morning. He said he hadn’t been wearing it but it had to have been hanging close enough to things he did wear and it smelled a bit like him.

“First, you need to calm down,” you said gently. She looked like she was going to snap at you but you silenced her with a look. “I know it’s hard but regardless of how you want this to turn out, try not to be in your own head about it, OK? She’s still your friend and I’m guessing you want her to stay your friend, right?”

“Duh.”

“So eloquent,” you said and she rolled her eyes. “Look, you have two options. You can pretend it never happened and see if she brings it up or you can be up front about it and ask her.”

“Is there a way to bring it up without looking like a desperate fucking loser?” She asked, brows raised.

You shrugged.

“Tough line to walk but I think you’ve got it in you.”

“Jesus…”

“Ellie,” you took her shoulders and made her actually face you. “It will be OK. Might be awkward for a bit but it’s not the end of the world. I promise. You can talk to her. She’s your friend for a reason and it’s because you’re kind and you’re smart and you’re funny. Even without the help of Will Livingston. None of that shit changes just because you kissed. Alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, dropping her head to your shoulder with a heavy sigh. You put your arms around her and gave her a little squeeze but when she pulled back from you, her eyes were narrowed. “You’re in a weirdly good mood.”

You frowned.

“No I’m not.”

“Uh yeah, you are,” she said, stepping back and looking you up and down as though she she were inspecting you. You just raised your eyebrows at her, expectant, when her mouth dropped open for a moment before she shifting to a shit eating grin.

“Ellie…”

“You fucked Joel!”

“We need to have another conversation about the fact that what happens between my legs is none of your business,” you muttered, turning her around to head back toward the stable.

“No we don’t,” she said. “This is great, you two have been so depressing the last few months…”

“We have not!”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes. “You were basically dead for weeks and Joel barely left the house for who knows how long.”

“That… was less recent,” you said. “And it’s not your job to worry about us so let’s just…” you stopped just short of the stable doors. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“About…” you lowered your voice. “Joel. Not that I’m admitting to anything.”

She smirked.

“That coat’s been hanging in his front closet since you left.” You looked down at yourself and groaned. Her cocky smile grew. “You wanted the coat again. Bingo.”

“Well just… keep it to yourself, alright?” You said, heading for the door. “I have no idea how to handle this with Savvy yet so cool it for bit. Please.”

“I can keep my mouth shut you know,” she said as you opened the door to the stable and she went in. She opened her mouth to keep talking but Dina came up to her, smiling, and she froze instead.

“Hey Ellie,” she smiled a little bigger before looking at you. “Bambi, good to see you.”

“You too,” you said, clapping Ellie on the shoulder. “Have fun out there.”

She glared at you over Dina’s shoulder and you just shrugged and winked at her before taking care of the final things you needed to before getting everyone out the door on patrol.

You seriously considered, for a moment, taking Joel’s hand and just dragging him back home when he told you that you’d be going out separately. Things with him were so raw and delicate and new again. Neglecting it for two days felt dangerous somehow, a tension setting into your limbs before you and Julie headed out.

You were always last to leave the stables, always waiting until you knew the rest of the patrol was situated even though you knew Olivia could handle things just fine without you. She smiled - a vaguely amused look on her face - as you went back over everything for the third time.

“I promise, it’s all good,” she said eventually. “Please go focus on killing infected and staying safe and leave managing the horses to me.”

On the way out of town, you stopped by where the working dogs were kept and asked if you could bring Gatling along, Julie looking a little skeptical as the dog jumped on Renaissance and settled between your legs, her head draped over your bicep.

“Used to ride like this with her all the time,” you said, kissing the top of the dog’s head. Gatling licked her lips once and curved her body into yours as you sat back in the saddle to make sure she had room. “I’ll let her down once we’re good and underway, she’ll keep up. She’s great at spotting infected and I’m guessing she could be a great patrol dog once we get her adjusted to working with more than just me…”

“She definitely looks like she can hold her own,” Julie said, watching as Gatling started scanning the horizon, her ears perked and listening, ready to jump off your horse and run down any apparent threat. “What kind of dog is she, anyway?”

“She’s a Belgian Malinois,” you said, giving her a scratch behind the ears. “They were police and military dogs before. She saved my ass from infected more than once and she kept my girl alive when I couldn’t…” You kissed her head again and she turned to lick your cheek before going back to watching for threats. “She’s a good girl.”

“Good to know I’ve got someone out here who can really watch my back,” Julie teased lightly. “Not sure I trust you to do it…”

“Why not?” You asked, gaping at her. “I’m a great shot, keep you alive no problem…”

“You forget I saw you trying to show Ellie and Savvy how to shoot a basketball that one time,” she smiled a cocky smile. “You barely hit the backboard…”

“OK shooting a basketball is a completely different animal,” you waved her off. “Where it counts, my aim is solid. Saved Tommy once.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true,” you said, nudging Renaissance a little faster. “Ask Joel…”

“Joel, hm?” She brought her horse alongside yours. “Things happening there?”

You tried to hide your smile but felt the edges of your mouth curve up, anyway.

“Good for you!” Julie said. “Both because you’re my friend and I want you to be happy but also because I like being right and goddammit, if I’m going to get shot down for a man of all people at least it’s a man I was right about.”

You laughed a little before you remembered you had things weren’t just magically fixed with Joel yet.

“Do me a favor and don’t mention it to anyone?” You said, looking down at Gatling. “I need to tell Savvy…”

The dog looked up to you at the mention of her name and you gave her a small scratch.

“Oh, right,” Julie winced a bit. “Yeah, that might be rough.”

“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I need to figure out a way to do this without losing both of them. I can’t do that again, I just… I can’t.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said gently. “It will be OK. Just have to believe it, it’ll happen.”

“I’ll do my best,” you smiled a little at her. “How’s shit with Karen, by the way?”

“Oh God,” she laughed. “I’m not sure how much I should tell you…”

The patrol was easy enough until the snow started flying. It was still, the two of you talking, Gatling sometimes running ahead and acting more like a puppy than you remembered her being before, making you smile. It felt like if she could be like this - young and free and more than what survival had made her - so could Savvy. She would get there someday. You could get her back and make her understand once she was ready.

Once the snow picked up, you and Julie decided to hunker down instead of pressing on to what was meant to be your final spot for the day. Though you were pretty sure you were only an hour or so shy of it if the weather weren’t working against you.

“OK this is bullshit is what this is,” Julie said as she stomped snow off her boots and shook it out of her hair. You laughed a little as you got a fire going in the fireplace of the old house you’d reached for the night. It was just at the edge of a small subdivision, a spot you’d ridden past before but never spent much time in. The two of you had gotten the horses settled in the garage and Julie had done a quick walk around the immediate area to make sure there were no threats before coming in to settle for the night. “White, fluffy bullshit.”

“Not getting you in the holiday spirit?” You teased. “Thanksgiving is coming up, Christmas right after that…”

“Yeah, I’m already counting down until spring,” she said, shucking her coat and joining you by the fire. “I can only live with this for so long.”

“I kinda like it,” you said as the fire caught the larger log and you watched it start to go up. “I like that seasons actually change here. It definitely made it easier to mark the passage of time when I didn’t have a calendar.”

“Well I guess when you put it that way,” she sighed dramatically and you laughed. “But now that you’re in Jackson, we’ll keep you straight on the passage of time. The snow can go.”

Julie had brought a bottle of whiskey from the Bison - “A perk of the job,” she said - and you were reminded of sleepovers when you were in high school when you and your friends would swipe booze from your parents’ liquor cabinets and get drunk around a bonfire.

“I feel like we’re going to regret this in the morning,” you said, snug in your sleeping bag on the floor as the fire dimmed, head fuzzy and limbs tingling from the alcohol. Gatling’s head rested on your stomach.

“We can just sleep in a bit,” she scoffed and you heard her adjust on the couch. “What are they gonna do, fire us from patrol for running late? Doubt it.”

You laughed a little.

“Guess there’s not much to contend with out there right now, anyway,” you said, closing your eyes. “Been quiet as hell all day. Doubt it’ll change overnight.”

“It’d better not,” she said, sounding sleepy. “Better not be more snow, either.”

You laughed once.

“Better snow than infected,” you said. “Or raiders.”

She didn’t respond and the room was quiet for a moment before you heard a soft snore coming from the couch.

You laughed and then sighed, pulling a hand from the sleeping bag to scratch Gatling behind the ears. She sighed and curled up tighter to you.

“It’s gonna be different when we go back,” you whispered to her, absently stroking one of her soft ears. “You can still come home with me, though. Maybe sleep with Savvy instead for a bit. I’m sure you miss her.”

You tried to think about how to tell Savvy about Joel. It would have been a hard conversation under any circumstance, you thought. Not one you’d ever thought you’d need to have when you’d started caring for her. The idea of being with anyone long term then had been so foreign it hadn’t even crossed your mind. After Marisa, you’d given up on that. Just the occasional lover when there was a woman around who was interested as she was passing through had been enough.

But Jackson was different. Joel was different. You had safety and security in Jackson and you loved Joel in a way you’d never thought you’d find, especially not after spending so long alone. But how could you tell Savvy something that you knew would hurt her? How could you tell her anything at all when she hadn’t spoken to you in weeks?

“She’s gonna come around, right?” You whispered to Gatling. You felt her lick her lips and sigh against you. You closed your eyes but left your hand on the dog. “I’ll get her to trust me again. I will.”

When the pounding on the front door woke you up, you were barely even aware you’d been asleep. But it was daylight outside and Gatling was standing near the front door, crouched low and snarling.

“Wha…” Julie lifted her head, a groggy look on her face.

“I got it,” you said, head spinning as you shoved your way out of your sleeping bag. “You stay put.”

“Thank fuck,” she groaned, dropping her head back on the couch and draping her arm over her eyes. You laughed and shook your head, going for the door.

“Gatling.” The dog looked up at you, ready to obey. “Heel.”

She fell back from the door and went to your leg, still tight against you, as you opened the door.

“Glad I found you,” Gene, Jesse’s patrol partner said, pushing past you into the house without waiting for an invitation. “It’s a mess out there…”

“That’s why we stopped here for the night,” you said, leaving the door open and nodding to Gatling, who immediately ran outside to pee. You waited by the door and let her back in, the dog sticking to your side again.

“We can’t be that late getting out of here,” Julie grumbled, sitting up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not that it’s not just a blast to see you, Gene…”

“We’re missin’ people,” he said, more to you than Julie.

“What?” You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest, the after effects of the alcohol suddenly fading fast. “What do you mean we’re missing people, who are we missing?”

“Joel and Tommy,” he said. “They never made it where they were supposed to last night and we can’t find ‘em….”

“They probably stopped for the night like we did,” Julie waved him off. “Did you not see the weather last night? It was a shit show…”

“Probably,” Gene nodded. “But they’d have made it there by now and we didn’t see them comin’ back down, either. No sign of ‘em. Ellie and Dina weren’t where they were supposed to be, either, but we at least found a fuckin’ trail for them, sent Jesse on to get them back in one piece…”

You were already moving to put your boots on, heart pounding, Gatling giving you a small whine. You put a handful of jerky on the ground for her and refilled her water dish before you started packing up your sleeping bag.

“I’m sure they’re fine…” Julie said, actually sitting up in the sleeping bag now, her legs pulled into her chest and watching you closely.

“We should split up,” you said, pulling on your coat. “Cover more ground…”

“Don’t know if that’s smart…” Gene began but you cut him off.

“I can handle myself,” you said, harsher than you’d really meant to. “I’ve got Gatling, I’ve got my guns, I’ve got my axe. That’s all I had for 20 damn years and I made it just fine then. If you’re worried, you and Julie can stick together but I’m not gonna sit here and talk about how to minimize risk when they’re out there dealing with who knows what…”

“Bambi,” Julie said gently, getting off the couch and taking you by the shoulders. “It’s OK.”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’ll be OK when I find him in one piece, then it’ll be OK, I’m not…”

“Gene and I will go one way,” she cut you off. “You and Gatling go the other. We’ll cover more ground. OK?”

Gene sighed, looking between the two of you.

“You got a death wish, don’t make me stop you,” he said gruffly. “Gonna go get my horse some water, we can head out.”

You watched him go, a nervous energy coursing through your body.

“Hey,” Julie said, taking your face carefully in her hands and making you look at her. “It is OK. It’s Joel and Tommy. They’re very, very good at this. They’re OK.”

There was a pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you had to fight to swallow past. She took your hands, giving them a squeeze.

“I can’t lose him now,” your voice was thick. “I just got him back, I can’t…”

“I know,” she said softly, a sad smile on her face and you were struck, for a moment, by just how pretty she was. She pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, her lips lingering on your skin for a second, before she pulled back. “We’ll find him. We will.”

“Thank you,” you nodded and took a deep breath, one tear slipping free, before looking down at your dog who was watching, ready and waiting.

“Gatling, heel.”

She moved to be immediately with you and you went to the garage, quickly saddling your horse and mounting up. You called Gatling up and she settled at the front of your saddle, already watching for incoming threats with her ears perked as you set off.

You pushed Renaissance harder than you should have through the deep snow, trying to reach some part of Joel and Tommy’s patrol path so you could find some sense of where they might have gone.

It wasn’t long before you found the path cut by a group of infected. A large one, judging by the footprints in the snow. You didn’t see a sign of Joel or Tommy but the swath of disturbed snow and brush from the hoard as so thorough you doubted you’d be able to tell if two horses had come that way, too. And, knowing Tommy and Joel, they’d have tracked the infected…

You looked higher for a moment, above where people would disturb branches and realized some branches on trees were clean of snow - too high for a person to bump on their own but just the height a tall man on horseback would hit.

“Goddammit,” you muttered, steering Renaissance in that direction and pushing her on.

The horse was breathing hard and heavy when you reached a mansion outside the normal patrol area, fully gated with piles of dead infected outside. You looked through your binoculars and saw tracks from the horses leading inside. But something about it set you on edge. Something wasn’t right.

You commanded Gatling down and tied Renaissance to a tree that provided at least some shelter.

“Back soon,” you said quietly, giving her a scratch and offering her an apple from your pack. You made sure your weapons were loaded, rifle at the ready, handgun and knife at your hip, axe across your back. Gatling looked at you, licking her lips once, waiting for a command.

“Gatling, heel,” you said. “Hunt.”

She latched onto your side like glue, crouched lower and keeping her mouth closed and you moved as quickly as you could for the gates of the mansion.

There was no one guarding the place that you could see but you closed the gate behind you. If that had been enough to keep infected out before, you weren’t about to argue with it now. There were signs of plenty of people here, footprints of various sizes all heading for shelter inside. You tried not to think about the fact that you might have to torture information out of someone who left those footprints. If they had taken Joel and Tommy’s horses, you’d have to work quick to find what they knew so you could get to them. Torture could be the best option and, if it meant saving their lives, it was a price you were happy to pay. Because they had to still be alive, they had to be.

The mansion was dark and almost eerily still. It reminded you of some of the places you’d visited when dropping of horses you’d trained to be trail animals for rich assholes before the outbreak, the trappings of extreme wealth couched in some idyllic, fictional version of the wild west. People who in places like this couldn’t handle the real thing. Real wildness would chew them up and spit them out.

You crept through the house, looking for some sign of people, too afraid to call for Joel and Tommy and potentially bring down who knows how many people on you when you heard it, an agonized cry in a voice you knew, one you knew better than almost anyone else.

“Joel,” you breathed, and you were running, Gatling at your heels.

You knew that you should stop, assess, try to form a plan but he screamed again and you plowed ahead. A plan didn’t matter, all that mattered was one thing: getting to Joel.

You had to get to him.

He had to be OK.

He had to be.

***

Joel knew what it was like to die.

He’d come close enough enough times over the years. Even before the apocalypse began he had a few near shaves. A fall off a ladder at a job site and the thought of “this is it” as he crashed down, the contemplation of what would happen with his daughter if he was gone, if he’d done enough to make it that she would be OK. A car accident that knocked him out and disoriented him enough that, for a moment in the hospital, he thought he was dead.

The times since had been different, more acute. For a while, it felt like dying would have been a mercy. There was some innate biology that kept his body pushing to survive when his mind saw death as a welcome outcome when he got stabbed or shot when he was taking what he needed to survive or getting the shit kicked out of him when he got overrun smuggling.

This, though, was something else. He didn’t want to die anymore, not really. He had you and Ellie and even Savvy. He had a reason to live now - live, not just survive - and he wanted it, wanted that life that was hanging there, so tantalizingly close on the horizon as heat of his blood pooled around him.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what happened, how he’d ended up here like this. He’d reached the girl he’d seen through the binoculars as she damn near got bit, he’d shot the infected and pulled her up just as its teeth were getting close to her neck.

“We gotta move!” Tommy yelled, shooting another infected.

Joel gave the girl a once over as quick as he could.

“You bit?” He asked. She was panting for breath but shook her head. “Got a gun?” She nodded. “Good, let’s go.”

He tucked her behind him and led the way, trying to find a way through and out. There were dozens of infected, riled up and searching for something to sink their teeth into, desperate for someone to turn.

“Shouldn’t be this damn many!” Tommy yelled as they scrambled back toward the horses. “Why are there this damn many?”

“Worry about that later!” Joel snapped, dragging the girl along behind him. She stopped and shot two that were getting too close for comfort and, even in that moment, Joel could appreciate that she was a good shot. “We have to get the fuck away from here, try and lose ‘em…”

“Think we can get all the way back to town?” Tommy asked, reloading his gun.

“Hell no,” Joel shook his head. “Need to find somewhere else to hole up…”

“My friends,” the girl said, looking between the two of them. “We’ve been staying at a mansion, not far from here. It’s got a fence around it, we’ve got the perimeter secure, if we can get there we’ll have help…”

Joel and Tommy looked at each other. It was unlikely a girl this young would be running with raiders, more likely a group just passing through as they headed for the coast from a QZ. Tommy shrugged and Joel looked back to her.

“Right,” he said. “We’ll head there, we got horses outside, you can ride with me and just tell us where to go. I’m Joel, that’s my brother Tommy, we’re from a settlement a few hours from here…”

“Joel,” she said, something shifting in her eyes when she said it.

“Right,” Joel said, not paying much attention. That seemed stupid, now. But he’d been so worried about Ellie, about you, about getting out of there to make sure you both were OK. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Abby,” she said, an odd twinge in her voice. “My… I’m Abby.”

They made it to the horses by the skin of their damn teeth, infected at their heels the whole way.

The kid was right, at least. The mansion was secure, her friends clearing the area with molotov cocktails, infected burning just outside the gates.

“Jesus Christ that was close,” Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Fuck, ain’t come that close in a while…”

“Couldn’t get a good look at ‘em,” Joel said, looking back at the burning bodies. “See any bullet holes? Any sign they might have run into the girls?”

Tommy’s giddy smile over surviving faded and he gave Joel’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m sure they’re alright, Joel,” he said. “Shit, Bambi’s a deadeye. And you taught Ellie everything you know. They probably didn’t even come across these fuckers and if they did, they’re fine. They’re fine, both have made it through worse than a few infected…”

“We should get inside,” Abby said, looking more at one of her friends than at Joel. “Now.”

Things seemed normal then. Tommy was trying to get the group to come back to Jackson, Joel was worrying about you and Ellie.

And then they introduced themselves to the group and it shifted. Just like it had with Abby, the change sudden and sharp.

“Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or somethin’,” Joel said, thinking it was a joke. His mind was still elsewhere, still on you, still on Ellie, still on making sure you both were OK. He wanted to be back in Jackson, back in his quiet house, back in bed with you, pillows actually brought up from the living room and you close enough that he could trace little patterns over your soft skin.

“Because they have.”

He didn’t even see the shot coming, didn’t have a chance to warn Tommy to run, his brother on the ground - unconscious? Dead? He wasn’t sure - before he could even think. Joel screamed as the bullet tore through his leg and he went down, straining to get to Tommy through the pain but they swarmed him, these kids his brother had just been trying to talk into coming back to Jackson. They held him down, his back to a wall as Abby knelt in front of him, her face twisted into a snarl. She looked so different than she had when he’d first spotted her, alone and afraid and cornered the way he was now.

“Joel Miller,” her teeth were gritted, the rifle tight in her grip.

“Who are you?” He managed, pulling against the people at his arms, people who looked like kids, fucking kids.

“Guess.”

“Look,” he grunted and gave his arms a yank but they thrust him back against the glass. “Don’t know what I did to ya but I know I didn’t do it on purpose. Done a lot of shit in my time but I don’t hurt kids and you’re a bunch of kids…”

“You kill my dad on purpose?” She pressed the barrel of the gun to his chin. “You slaughter a whole hospital of people who were just trying to save humanity on purpose?”

Joel’s stomach dropped. Of course. Of course saving Ellie would come back for him. Of course now that he finally had a life that was worth living it was getting ripped away for the one thing he couldn’t regret.

“I did what I had to do,” he said, trying to free himself again, even though he knew it was futile. “But it was just me. Do what you need to do, make whatever speech you got saved up, but leave my brother out of it.”

She squared her jaw, a look of disgust on her face as she got to her feet. She shoved her gun into the hands of the man - barely a man, almost still a boy, Joel thought - beside her.

“Tourniquet his leg,” she snapped. The others looked around, hesitating. “Do it!”

She stalked off as another girl obeyed, Joel trying not to scream through the pain as she tightened the belt around his leg. His head was still spinning when she came back into view, a golf club in her hands.

“You don’t get to ask me for a damn thing,” she looked at him with so much rage, so much hate that, for a moment, he pitied her. That someone so young was so angry and in so much pain, that her father had cast his lot in with a bunch of child killers and paid with his life, leaving her alone, was tragic. “And you don’t get to rush this.”

She jerked her head toward the people holding him in place and they looked at each other for a moment before stepping back. He tried to move but his leg was fucking useless and Abby swung the club, catching him in the arm before she forced him all the way to the floor with a pained cry.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here now. Consciousness was hazy. So was the feeling in his limbs. At times, it was like he was floating, far outside his body and somewhere far softer and warmer and kinder than here. Part of him was back in his living room, almost a year ago now, on Christmas Eve when it was just you and him and he buried himself inside the hot clutch of your body by the glow of the holiday lights. He was lost in the feel of you, so soft and warm below him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt closer to another person in his life, lacing his fingers with yours and looking into your eyes as you came. He’d promised to take care of you then and he’d meant it, he’d meant it so far beyond that moment inside of you, he’d meant it for the rest of his life he’d take care of you.

He just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.

At least, he thought, he’d made things right with you. At least he’d gotten to tell you that he loved you again, at least he wasn’t dying wondering if you could ever have forgiven him. At least things were right with Ellie, at least she’d loved him again and she’d let him love her the way she deserved to be loved. At least she had you and Savvy now, people who would love her that way, too, and make sure she was OK. She was going to need someone to make sure she was OK when he was gone, she was so stubborn and she tried to be so much stronger than she needed to be. She needed someone. So did you.

At least he’d get to be with Sarah again. She was so much closer now than she’d been before, barely out of reach now, somewhere quiet and safe and peaceful. Just far enough away that what was happening now couldn’t reach her. At least she wasn’t seeing this. At least you and Ellie weren’t seeing this.

Something shifted in the room, the club not landing on Joel’s body again, chaos drawing him back into his body again.

Everything hurt, like he’d been put through a meat grinder. He wasn’t sure he’d ever hurt this much, at least not physically. Every breath was pain. He’d been lying here long enough that some of the blood pooling around his legs had gone cold.

There was a vicious snarl, the crack of a gunshot and he realized, suddenly, what happened.

“Gatling!” He could barely adjust his head enough to see where you were. Your rifle was on the ground but so was the only other gun Joel remembered seeing in the room. Your axe was tight in your hands as you threw one of the men back with a roar. You kicked the guns at your feet behind you and pointed to Joel and snapped your fingers. “Guard!”

The dog ran to him and crouched around his body, hunched low, snarling and barking. You screamed and Joel struggled to see what was happening, tried to get up but he was only able to make it a few inches off the ground before he collapsed back down, his body too broken to properly obey. You were so close, you were in trouble and he tried to focus on it. He had to get you out of here, he had to take care of you, he’d promised to take care of you. He was supposed to protect you, that’s what he was built to do and he was failing.

“Gatling, bite!” Your command was more of a shriek, sharp and fearful.

The dog shot away from him for a moment, a snarl followed by a pained wail and Joel could see enough to make out that the animal had tackled someone near you as you scrambled to your feet, more of them coming for you. Joel tried again to move but his injured leg gave out that time, collapsing below him before he could put even half his weight on it.

“Gatling, release!” The screaming stopped and he heard another snap. “Guard!”

The dog went back to him, snarling and snapping and

“Bambi!”

Joel turned his head too quick to the door, his neck screaming in pain, to see Ellie standing there, her eyes wide.

“Ellie!” He yelled through gritted teeth.

“Go!” You screamed at her, bringing your axe around, swinging wide on another person coming for you, just catching their arm. “Get help, get Jesse! Go!”

You circled toward the door, axe up, daring any of them to try to follow her.

“You’re not a part of this!” Abby prowled toward you. “Don’t make me kill you, too.”

“He’s a part of this so I am, too,” you panted. “If you wanna try and kill me, you better do it quick and you better be damn sure you do it right because the second I’m down, that dog will rip your throats out one by fucking one. She’s done it before, I’ve seen it. You’ll have to kill me - which she won’t take lyin’ down - and get to the guns behind me to take her down. She works quick, hell of a lot quicker than me. If you’re fightin’ both of us, you don’t stand a chance. You that confident? I am. So is she.”

Gatling snarled as if on cue.

“Other option is to get the fuck out of here,” you said. Joel could just see you around the dog, blood dripping from your side, lip split open. “We got backup comin’, we’re from a settlement of hundreds and we’ve fought off raiders and infected for fuckin’ years, think we can handle a band of fucking children without much trouble. This worth dyin’ for? Right now, I got your death warrant. Up to you if I sign it.”

“Abby,” one of the men said. “Let’s go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She snapped. “You want to just go? Now? Let him live?”

Gatling snarled again.

“You’re runnin’ short on time!” You growled, teeth clenched tight. “Now or never!”

“You lost control of the situation,” the man hissed. “We’re not all dying for your fucking revenge mission.”

She turned toward Joel and he watched the hatred and the rage move through her. He watched her think about bringing the club down one more time, just to see if she could land a final, killing blow before the dog struck hers. She moved a fraction of an inch toward him and Gatling adjusted, a vicious bark and a snarl ripping from her.

“He wouldn’t want you to die for this,” the man said quietly, so low Joel doubted you could hear. “And Miller probably won’t survive this, anyway. It’s done. Let’s go.”

“Fine,” she bit out, throwing the club aside. Joel tried his best to follow her with his eyes, praying that she wouldn’t go for you. Once the people had moved away from him toward you and the door, you called Gatling to you, the dog standing between you and the aggressors, snarling and threatening. They left, watching you closely, without a word.

The door closed and you dropped the axe, grabbing a gun from behind you on the ground and limping for Joel, blood dripping down your leg.

“Joel,” you fell to your knees beside him. He tried to say something but all that left him was a pained moan. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, you’re alright…”

“Tommy,” he managed, panting for breath. “Check… Tommy….”

“OK,” you said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Gatling, guard.”

You snapped your fingers and pointed to Joel again. The dog obediently came and positioned herself between him and the door, body like a coiled spring ready to attack. You went to Tommy and checked his pulse before adjusting him. Joel heard him groan and you said something he couldn’t quite make out before you were back to him, a bag with you this time.

“They’ve gotta have something in here,” you said, ripping through the contents.

“Baby…”

“Tommy’s alright,” you said, glancing at Joel before going back to the bag. “He’s comin’ around. Ellie will be back soon, she’s bringing help, it’s going to be OK Joel, it is…”

“Baby.”

“Hush.”

You found what you were looking for, a bag with some medical stuff inside. You set it nearby and looked over Joel’s back, wincing as you did.

“Need to look at the front of you, too,” you said. “I’m going to roll you over, alright?”

“Baby…”

“Shut up, Joel.”

Your hands shook and he cried out in pain as you moved him onto his back, flinching when you saw his leg.

“Jesus,” you whispered. “What’d they do to you?”

“Baby,” he said again, managing to lift a hand enough to almost reach your face. You took it, gently guiding his bloody palm the rest of the way to your cheek as you leaned down into it. “You’re bleedin’.”

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself. “It’s fine, I’ll be fine…”

“Need to take care,” he had to stop for a second, grinding his teeth through the pain as it wracked his body. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “Care of yourself. I’m… I can’t make it back, not like this…”

“Shut up, Joel.”

“Promised to protect you,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Lemme do it.”

“Protect me later,” you said, setting his hand down and ripping the bag of medical gear open with your teeth. “Going to put bandages on your leg, see if we can let the tourniquet off, save the leg…”

“Baby.”

“Shut UP, Joel!”

He watched you work for a moment and you felt farther and farther away with every breath. He could feel himself fading and he wished you’d just stop, that you’d take care of yourself and just hold him while he could still feel you.

“Need you to look after Ellie,” he said as you wound bandages around his thigh. “She’s gonna act like she doesn’t need anyone but she does and…”

“And she has you,” you cut him off with a glare. “So it doesn’t matter.”

You released the tourniquet on his leg and it was more of a relief than he’d expected it to be, the pain of it fading to a dull enough roar that he’d forgotten it was there until the weight of it was lifted.

“Gotta get this spot at your side, too…” you adjusted his shirt and leaned over him and he got a better look at your own side, a bright red splotch growing on your shirt, a long gash going from your ribs down toward your stomach.

“You’re bleedin’, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you said. “Getting you fixed up first…”

“Baby.”

“Joel, I swear…”

“Need to get you and Tommy back,” he needed to stop for a second to catch his breath, the rise and fall of his chest straining his ribs. “Can’t… can’t die knowin’…”

“You’re not dying here,” you snapped, your voice thick. “I just got you back, you’re not dying here, you’re coming home and you’re going to be OK and…”

You sat back, looking at the spot on his side that you’d just bandaged, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist as you did.

“Gotta take care of yours now,” he said, eyes tracing the spot at your side. But you shook your head.

“Outta gauze.”

“Baby…”

“It’s not that bad,” you sniffed. “I’ll just… hold pressure until Ellie gets back. It’s OK, you’re gonna be OK, I can’t….”

“Here,” he ground his teeth, breathing through another wave of pain. “Lay… lay with me. Cut side up, keep the blood from flowin’ too easy.”

You looked at him for a moment before nodding and lying delicately next to him. He adjusted as best he could so he could see you, touch you. You’d been hit in the face at least twice, one of your eyes swelling shut and your lip split open. But you were still beautiful, so damn beautiful.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said softly.

“Joel…”

“Wanted… wanted so much more time with you and the girls,” he said quietly. Your skin was soft, so soft it seemed like the sensation of it might be the only thing holding him to the earth. “I’m so sorry we’re not gettin’ that…”

“Stop talking like that,” you were crying now, not making any attempt to stop it.

“It’ll be OK sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll… you’ll be alright. Ellie’s gonna need you, keep an eye on her for me. Keep her outta trouble. Savvy, too. She loves you… she’ll… she’ll come around…”

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching out to cup his face, your fingers in his curls, one of the only places on his body he wasn’t bleeding.

“I’m so happy we made things right,” he said, his eyes searching yours. He wondered, if he watched you closely enough, if he could bring the precise color of them with him wherever he was going. “I love you so damn much, sweetheart. Need you to know that, OK? I love you.”

“I love you too,” you breathed. Your skin was so soft and your breath was warm on his skin. “I love you. I love you.”

You said it again and again. It was the last thing Joel heard before he passed out.

Next Chapter

A/N: Hi y'all ❤️

Again, begging for you to trust me, OK? OK.

I do love you but... feel free to yell at me in the comments or in my asks or DMs. I'll be responding to asks about the last chapter soon now that this one is up.

Thanks for going on this crazy ride with me!! It truly means the world.

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tlou2 spoilers

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ninzied · 23 days

Text

some sentence sunday

There are days when Alex longs for the wide, open space of his hometown in Texas, actually getting to see the stars and feeling like he’s part of more of the world than just the one made in New York. He longs to see Henry back there, freely and utterly himself in a way that Alex has never seen him get to be anywhere else. The moments they’ve spent there feel almost stolen from time, and more than anything Alex wishes they could finally belong to him and Henry alone.

Someday, he thinks, glancing across the room at Henry and smiling a little. Someday.

Today, though, is something else, because today they’re at a charity event for Henry’s youth shelters; they are there specifically to be seen, by just the types of people that Alex usually couldn’t care less about when it comes to what they think. People who say things like upper echelons but unironically, and who refer to waitstaff as the help.

It feels kind of gross having to turn the charm on this hard for them. But it’s for a good cause, and, well.

Alex would be lying if he said he doesn’t get the tiniest thrill whenever Henry casually takes his hand right in front of their literal salad, or catches Alex’s eye over a glass of champagne and smiles at him like no one else is in the room.

And it gives Alex even more of a thrill that these people have no clue what Henry plans to do with his title.

So, yeah, maybe a part of him kind of totally wants everyone to see. To know that Henry—Prince Henry, to them—is his boyfriend. His.

Now he just needs to make sure that guy knows it, too.

tagged by:

@cha-melodius @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @kiwiana-writes @sparklepocalypse @theprinceandagcd thank you all! tagging:

@anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @carrythesky @celeritas2997 @dreamsinthewitchouse

@eusuntgratie @ejunkiet @firenati0n @garglyswoof @getmehighonmagic

@guillermosfamiliar @heysweetheart-writes @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz

@magicandarchery @mulderscully @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @piratefalls

@priincebutt @suseagull04 @stereopticons @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @wordsofhoneydew

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #well it's been 84 years since i've done one of these #possessive alex. protective henry #those are the vibes of this one #wip: mine

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collecting-stories · 1 year

Text

Blueberry BBQ - Carmen Berzatto

Request: no.

Summary: reader works at The Bear balancing their books and has a major crush on Carmy but they never talk aside from business. A dinner party brings them closer together.

A/N: Just some nonsensical drabble cause I love Carmy.

The Bear Masterlist

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

“Are you making that bbq sauce for the burgers this time?” Marcus asked, turning away from his chocolate cake for a split second to look at you.

Mikey had hired you a week before he died to help balance the books at the Beef. After he was gone Richie stuck you on the counter, waiting on customers like you didn’t have a bachelors in finance, and telling you not to go in the back office. Now that Carmy was around, and attempting to make the Beef float, you were back were you belonged, in the office and away from the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.

You were no chef…you’d hesitate to even really call yourself a proper cook…but you knew what you liked and you knew how to make it taste good. “I don’t know…last time Angel complained.”

“That’s because Angel puts ketchup on everything like a five year old,” Tina called from her station, the distinct chop of onions echoing after her comment.

“What are you making?” Syd asked, adding a quick, “behind” as she passed Tina to grab a pot.

“It’s Sunday night dinner,” Marcus replied, ignoring the headshake Tina gave him. No real offence to Sydney but you knew she’d tell Carmy and whether or not he actually would come, you kind of didn’t want the pressure of thinking he might show up. Even with your job at The Beef you were far from understanding the “food world” but you’d tried Carmy’s cooking a few times and it was leagues better than anything you attempted on a good day. There was no way you wanted him even thinking you set foot in a kitchen, let alone trying something you made.

“Sunday night dinner?” Syd echoed.

And then the cursed, “what’s Sunday night dinner?” Carmy’s voice. He’d come in from a smoke break and you took three large steps back to the office, as if you hadn’t set foot in the kitchen to begin with. Marcus looked at his boss and then at you (wide eyed and trying not to visibly shake your head at him) and then back to Carmy.

“It’s uh,”

“Nothing.” Tina cut in. “It’s nothing. Get back to work eh, Jeff?”

“Yeah,” Carmy looked like he wanted to say something else but instead just nodded, blue eyes a little glazed, “yeah.”

In the comfort of the office, you get back to work on payroll for the week, slipping your airpods in to drown out the sounds of the kitchen. Just over the softer lull of Evermore you could hear Carmy yell at Richie, his brother’s best friend shouting right back. It wasn’t always (or ever) the best environment for working but you liked it. You liked it when Mike was working there and you somehow managed to like it a little more now that Carmy was running the show, though that could just be that you liked Carmy. Outside of work, you didn’t have too many conversations but he was pretty to look at and you liked the brief interactions the two of you had, even if it was just asking about accounts and other boring stuff he didn’t have the patience for on his own.

The whole incident (that might be an over exaggeration of the event though you’d honestly be tempted to call it a debacle and it probably wasn’t that either) had been mostly forgotten by the time the dinner rush was rolling around and you were clocking out. More than thrilled to both be home before dark and to continue your mostly Carmy-free shift. He was so busy out in the kitchen and fighting with Richie that you hadn’t seen him. Though by now you were positive he had forgotten the mention of Sunday night dinner.

You waved to Syd, promised to text Marcus, and slipped out the back door into the alley. If you went out the front Richie would stop you and then you’d be listening to his bullshit for another hour (at least).

“Sneaking out?” Carmy’s tone was teasing and you spun around to find him sitting on a milk crate, smoking what was probably his sixth or seventh cigarette of the day.

“Didn’t wanna hear about Richie’s date,” you shrugged, the strap of your backpack digging at your collar momentarily when your shoulder went up and then dropped back into place.

“It was a bust.”

You nodded, “kinda feel bad for him,” you mused. You didn’t hate Richie, in fact you found him kind of funny. Even when he’d kicked you out of the office and relegated you to the counter you’d liked him too much to complain.

“You wanna date him?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as if he was issuing some kind of challenge.

“Oh, I don’t feel that bad.” You laughed.

Carmy smiled and you were ready to say goodnight when he opened his mouth again. Maybe you should have gone the front way. “So what’s this Sunday night dinner?”

You shook your head as if the whole ordeal wasn’t that major to begin with. Maybe if it sounded lame, if you sounded like you weren’t that bothered with it, Carmy wouldn’t want to go. Not that you thought he wanted to spend his time off the clock hanging out with you. “Oh it’s nothing, I’m just…making dinner for like, Marcus and Tina and everybody.”

He frowned. An actual, eyebrows scrunched, hooded eyes drooped, frown. “You cook?”

“Not, no, not like…I mean…it’s probably cardboard compared to you.” You laugh, “not that I’m, ya know…comparing myself to you or anything.” You replied, stumbling slightly over your words.

“Must be pretty good…everybody’s going.”

“Well, anyone’s invited…I mean, if you wanted to come you could. I think Marcus is bringing some dessert and Tina and Ebraheim usually bring something too.” You shrugged again, an impulsive movement as you tried to make yourself sound cool and collected. It was just Carmy…the guy looked like he was homeless, he shouldn’t be as intimidating as he was.

“What are you making?”

“It’s just burgers.” You replied, downplaying the fact that you’d specifically overpaid for waygu beef because Marcus claimed it tasted better. Who were you to know.

“I’ll bring something.” The offer sounded more like a sure statement. Not only would he be there but he would bring something.

“Okay…” you trailed off, “well, see you tomorrow.”

You were pretty sure you’d never left The Beef so quickly in your entire life. Sunday was supposed to be a relaxing day off and an attempt to actually be somewhat sociable because god knows quarantine was rough, even with a steady job.

But now Sunday was just anxiety bubbling in your stomach while you made the plum bbq glaze that Marcus liked so much. You’d imagined nothing more than calling up your mom to complain about how often you put your foot in your mouth but as you reached for the telephone you realized the only one around to listen to you talk about this weird crush you had on Carmy was your cat. The monster in question was a long haired black cat that the lady on the top floor had adopted before covid. She’d named him Rigoletto after the Italian opera and then decided she didn’t want him anymore.

“That place down the street is hiring…although I’m not so sure I wanna work at an H&R Block.” You mused, scratching under Rigoletto’s chin before leaving him on the arm of the couch to finish the bbq sauce. “And I do really like the Beef…but what if Carmy hates this? And he fires me or something…is that crazy?”

The cat didn’t have the chance to answer because the buzzer by your door went off. It was a little too early for anybody who usually showed up to arrive though you suspected it could be Syd (she’d been invited now too, along with Richie who had to decline because it was his Sunday with his daughter).

You hit the button to unlock the front door without confirming who was there. Not a great habit but you were technically expecting someone and you tended to get a little lax with security every now and then. You propped the door to your apartment so that whoever you’d buzzed (Syd surely, maybe Ebraheim) would be able to just come right in.

But as luck would have it, it wasn’t Syd that came through the door to your apartment. It was Carmen, holding two foil trays cause he promised he’d bring something (and okay, sure, maybe he over did himself for just a hang out in your apartment but so sue him if he wasn’t trying to impress you).

“Hey uh…your cat looks like it’s gonna climb me.” He half greeted, half warned, staring down at the cat that had jumped off the couch and come over to greet him. Yellow eyes stared up at his blue ones, back hunched like it was ready to pounce and Carmy briefly imagined the cat jumping right into the trays in his hands.

Before any worst case scenarios could happen you scooped the cat up in your arms, apologizing and telling Carmy he could lay the trays on the small island in your kitchen. “He’s super friendly,” you promised though you left him in your room and closed the door, “he’s a big fan of Chester.”

“Marcus’ roommate?” Carmy almost laughed.

“Yeah he uh, what are you doing?” You speedwalked the short distance back to the kitchen when you realized that Carmy had moved over to inspect the sauce you were making, spooning a tiny bit out and taking a bite.

“It’s good, maybe a little maple syrup?” He offered, as if this was The Beef’s test kitchen. Without waiting for your okay he went to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a bottle of maple syrup. You wondered briefly if he had some sort of psychic sense that let him know you had maple syrup on hand or if Carmy just expected all the ingredients he needed to be right where he needed them at all times. “What’s this?”

“It’s salad dressing,” you supplied, shifting awkwardly as he shook the bottle of salad dressing he’d plucked off the shelf.

You watched him pop the lid and stick a clean butter knife in the jar, pulling it out and taste testing the dressing. This was objectively worse than you imagined inviting Carmy to your house would be. “Shit, that’s fire.”

You could feel your face heat up at the compliment, though that was immediately out of your mind as Carmy continued his inspection of your fridge. When he started eyeing a tupperware of soup from last night, you reached over and closed the door on him, “okay; let’s be finished going through my fridge?”

“Sorry,” he held his hands up in surrender, the bottle of dressing still in one hand. “I didn’t know you cooked.” It was the same thing he’d said to you earlier though it didn’t hold the same genuine surprise as it had earlier. Instead, he looked almost contemplative, as if finding something out about you that he hadn’t known before meant something you weren’t aware of.

“Nothing serious,” you promised, going back to check on the burgers and looking back at Carmy, “would you…check these. I know it sounds dumb but, cooking meat gives me anxiety.”

“It gives you anxiety?” He said it like he was trying not to laugh, a smile threatening his features as he set the dressing back in the fridge and came over to stand a little too close to you.

“If you don’t cook it enough you could kill someone and if you cook it too much it’s gross,” you replied, glancing half over your shoulder at him as he leaned in to check the state of the burgers.

“Alright…if you let me try the soup.”

You caved, “fine.” Passing the wooden spatula and stepping to the side. “If Marcus asks, I totally cooked them myself.”

Carmy nodded, grinning, “yeah alright.”

Cooking with him, without the imminent pressure of a working kitchen, was more fun than you imagined it would be. When you’d wandered into the kitchen area of the Beef back when Mike was still around, he was always joking and talking shit with Richie. Carmy didn’t necessarily run a tighter ship but he was more serious about food and cooking and there was less time for bullshitting. You assumed the quiet intensity was how he always was but you realized that was an unfair judgement. He was relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen him be, that confidence in his food coming through with quiet remarks about this meal or that, shitty food he’d eaten while he was working in New York and stories about the CIA.

By the time everyone had finished eating and gone home, leaving you with a mess of plates and cutlery, you were a little tipsy but genuinely happy. It hadn’t been as stressful as you were making it out to be in your mind and Carmy relaxed on a Sunday night was completely different from Carmy in the kitchen at work.

“You have a system or?” His voice broke your train of thought as you wiped the last crumbs off the table and realized that he was standing at your sink, kitchen towel over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to help me clean up,” you tossed the crumbs and came over to the sink, “I mean you fixed the burgers.”

“I didn’t ‘fix’ them,” he almost looked like he was gonna laugh. “I just helped them along.”

“Well either way, you shouldn’t have to clean up too.”

“I don’t mind.” He promised, “now, you got a system?”

“Not really,” you shook your head, “but I don’t have a dishwasher so everything’s by hand.”

“I got time.” Carmy promised and you couldn’t help feeling like your heart was going to thud right out of your chest, “besides you promised me some of that soup.”

“You just ate like a whole meal Carm, you’re not seriously gonna have soup at midnight are you?” You asked though honestly you didn’t think you would be surprised if the answer was that yes, he would have soup at midnight.

“Yeah if it’s good,” he joked.

You shook your head, not answering and instead focusing your attention on drying dishes too large to fit in the rack beside your sink. The frying pan went back on the stove with the pot beside it. While Carmy finished the very last of the dishes you let Rigoletto out of your bedroom, the cat stretching languidly as he appraised the room.

“My mom had a cat once,” he mentioned, eyeing Rigoletto as he approached the kitchen area, “ended up giving it to the neighbor cause it jumped on the counters all the time. Nothing like cat hair in your chicken picante.”

“Rigoletto’s too fat to make it to the counter.” You replied, “if he did I’d be too impressed to be upset with him.”

“What are you doing?” Carmy watched you curiously as you got a bowl out of the cabinet and grabbed a bag of granola.

“Homemade granola,” you shook the bag, “it’s for the top of the soup.” When he didn’t say anything you added, “just trust me.”

“It’s your recipe.”

“I feel like that wasn’t as confident sounding as I wanted it to be,” you laughed, passing the heated up bowl across the counter to him, granola sprinkled over the top, “it’s apple and brie soup.”

“Apple?”

“Okay, like you’ve made some weird fucking shit before Carm. Don’t act like this is the craziest thing you’ve ever heard of.”

He raised his hands in surrender, spoon teetering between his fingers briefly before he was leaning forward to take a bite. “To be fair, I rarely see you even near the kitchen at work.”

“Well I’m not as good as anyone there, I just like trying different stuff on my own time.”

“This is really good,” he mentioned, taking another spoonful, “you have a recipe?”

“Yeah, I have a notebook somewhere.” You weren’t a hundred percent sure where you’d placed your notebook though you knew it was floating around somewhere in the apartment.

“Show me?” He asked, then, “not right now…just whenever.” The request was vague and you knew that ultimately you could just take it to mean showing him the actual handwritten recipe that you used to make the soup that he was almost finished eating but it could also mean actually cooking with him. Something that, 24 hours ago would have definitely scared the shit out of you. Cooking with someone like Carmy? That was out of the question.

“When do you ever have free time?” You kept the question light, a joke more than an observation of his life, “I was surprised you came tonight.”

“I thought about not coming,” he shrugged, “figured if you wanted me to you woulda asked yourself but…” the sentence teetered off and you took a few seconds silence to really weigh how your relationship with Carmen looked from his end.

“Sorry, it’s not that you aren’t invited or anything…just that you’re kinda intimidating and if you were coming over than I’d wanna impress you and if I didn’t at least make edible food I’d be embarrassed.”

“It could use a little fine-tuning but it’s not bad by any stretch.”

“Okay,” you almost laughed at the bluntness of his statement. Ask him anything else and he clammed up but ask him about food and he was direct.

“Sorry I-”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shook your head quickly, wanting him to understand that you weren’t at all bothered by the comment. Maybe if you were in an actual professional in a kitchen...you’d heard him and Syd go at it before over a dish and you knew that Carmy could be mean when he was in ‘kitchen-mode’. “I mean, aside from you, the only people who eat what I cook are like...my parents. And what are they gonna say?”

Carmy didn’t say anything, taking the empty bowl and placing it in the sink. He looked like he wanted to say more but instead he reached for his coat, “thanks for letting me invite myself.”

“Hey, anytime you wanna come over...” You admitted. Tonight hadn’t been as scary as you thought it was and, in all honesty, you kind of liked having Carmy here. Getting to see him more relaxed was nice and cooking with him was somehow better. “Besides, I promised to show you the soup.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. Trying to fix the Beef, pay off Jimmy, and generally just exist didn’t leave a whole lot of free time but he didn’t think he would mind making some just so he could stand around in your kitchen with you again. It felt almost the way he used to feel when Mike was still alive and everything still had a layer of candy-coating on it. That sort of simple, ‘if I don’t leave this moment nothing can go wrong’ feeling that tightened his chest and made him feel warm.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” You phrased it like a question but it was a fact.

“Tomorrow.” He agreed. The possibility of it already making him eager for the morning.

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it-happened-one-fic · 1 month

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Genuine With You - Kalim

Author Notes: Someday, I will feel comfortable writing Kalim, but today is not yet that today. In all seriousness though, I wrote this while listening to "Romantic Flight" from the How to Train Your Dragon OST. I really can't quite decide how I feel about this fic, but I sort of thought it was time for me to post it. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral/ fluff/ romance

Word Count: 881

It wasn’t the first time you’d taken Kalim’s hand to join him on a magic carpet ride through the night sky. But something about it felt different this time.

When your hand had slipped into his warm one and he’d tugged you through your window and onto the surprisingly soft fabric, you’d felt strangely shy.

Kalim seemed like his normal self, though, if perhaps a little quieter, as he steered the carpet to take you up higher until you were sailing above the clouds and could see the moon in all its pale glory.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in a feeble effort to protect yourself from the cool night air, “Does it ever get old?”

Your eyes were stuck on the moon even as Kalim looked over at you with a surprised expression that soon melted into one of understanding, “Never. It’s just as magical everytime.”

You smiled, oddly comforted by his words. Somehow, being up in the sky with Kalim by your side made everything feel just a little bit simpler. Your problems seemed distant and far away, with even the school itself appearing tiny.

But perhaps distance had a way of putting things into perspective. While NRC often seemed larger than life, it was just a small part of this great, big world.

Amusingly, you never felt closer to anyone than when you were with Kalim, sailing through the sky high over the sleeping campus. There was a strange serenity, and though Kalim was always joyful, his happiness seemed easier and more relaxed when it was just the two of you.

It wasn’t like you thought he put on for others, but he did seem a little more genuine when it was just you and him. After all, it was only when it was just you and Grim around that you’d ever truly heard him voice any sort of complaints.

“It’s funny; you’re easy to be around,” Kalim’s voice interrupted your musings and spoke your thoughts aloud. You turned to look at him with no small amount of surprise, and he had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed, “I know it's an odd thing to say…. But I really do feel that way.”

You felt a smile creep onto your face at his words, feeling both touched and relieved that he felt the same way. “It’s not odd; I feel the same way about you.”

Now it was his turn to stare at you with wide, disbelieving eyes that had you letting out a laugh, “Is that really so surprising?”

He let out an almost sheepish chuckle and actually nodded, startling you even as he began to explain, “Yeah, it is. A lot of people seem to think they have to put an act around me because of who I am. Even Jamil….”

He trailed off, looking down as the smile on his face faded at his friend’s name. You’d known for quite some time that the events of winter break…. Jamil’s overblot was still weighing heavily on Kalim’s mind.

And though you entirely understood why that was the case, it pained you that everything that had happened during that time still bothered him so much. But you had no words to comfort the young man, even though you desperately wanted to. So instead, you decided to distract him by continuing on with your previous vein of thought.

“I’ve never felt that way,” You responded honestly and almost immediately regained Kalim’s attention. He no longer looked as sorrowful as before, and the longer you continued speaking, the happier he looked.

“I’ve always thought you’re one of the most comfortable people to be around at this school. I’ve never felt like I needed to be wary or put on an act around you. I can just… exist.” You glanced back at him, a smile on your face as you awkwardly lifted a shoulder.

“You just strike me as a really genuine guy, and I guess I want to be just as genuine with you as you are with me.”

It was like your words had opened some sort of door for Kalim. His eyes shone with both unshed tears and joy, and the next thing you knew, all the cold air that had been blowing around was blocked by his body as he tugged you into a tight embrace.

Because, despite the fact that Kalim was a carefree boy who seemed to do little work, he was by no means small or weak.

You let out a tiny, half-startled laugh as you wrapped your arms responsively around him and received a tiny squeeze in return as you reciprocated his affection.

“Thank you, Y/n; that means so much to me.” The young man leaned bac and you wished you’d had time to brace yourself for the unadulterated affection that shone in his garnet-colored eyes.

“I feel the same way. It’s easy being with you, and I’m so glad you’re here. Even if you aren’t originally from Twisted Wonderland, you mean the world to me.”

He held your hands in his, maintaining eye contact in a way that felt incredibly meaningful, even though you could never read the myriad of emotions that floated through his gaze, though you did catch a few.

Gratitude, honesty, joy, and pure, unfiltered love.

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ettelenethelien · 6 months

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1st age Beleriand dashboard Simulator

🌫️ mithrim-noldo following

Yeah, Thingol kind of flew off the handle with banning Quenya and all that, but why on Arda are people now justifying the Kinslaying in response?? have some nuance and also, that's just plain horrible.

✨ btw-this-is-hopeless following

hope it's fine to copy your tags, mithrim, because they're great:

#I mean I know this is probably because they've taken part in the kinslaying themselves #but #can't you just admit you did wrong and move on? #in so far as it is possible because of course forgetting would be disrespectful and unwise #because the consequences are with us still #but it should be way more comfortable than being on your defences all the time #always ready to rationalize or deny #with a conscience you cannot silence

✴️ eightpointedstar83

I am tired of typing this out again and again but Alqualondë could have been averted had the teleri been less self-centred and readier to cooperate. Thingol is just another example of this attitude. But of course, please deny that the third clan is what it is and pin the blame on the people who saved everyone's skins.

We have done nothing wrong and yet our own people are turning on us. One day you will rue this.

Long live the house of Fëanor!

💝 heart-in-a-box

This is just the sort of behaviour OP was talking about.🤦‍♀️

🌫️ mithrim-noldo following

Admittedly, this seems to be a fanatical Fëanorian and more committed than the average apologist of his/her own actions - but yes.

#current events #thingol's quenya ban #my post

11,062 notes

🧝🏼‍♂️maglorfeanorion following

finished another canto of the noldolante today

🌖 hunters-moon

you have a tumblr account??!

🧝🏼‍♂️ maglorfeanorion following

do I know you?

🌖 hunters-moon

yes :)

🧝🏼‍♂️ maglorfeanorion following

wait - yeah, I do...

which of the twins are you?

🌖 hunters-moon

how did you know😮???

👨🏻‍🦰red-haired-twin

he looked through your blog, nitwit :)

🧝🏼‍♂️maglorfeanorion following

I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find you two out of all possible people on here...

so - which is which?

36 notes

🌸 a-flower-in-the-snow following

himring winters are horrible and I hate my parents for bringing me to middle-earth

#rant #children of exilse #i meant #children of exiles #coe

4 notes

🏞️ the-wide-earth-unexplored following

Y'all weren't joking when y'all said the Sirion is impressive...

(more photos under cut)

#photography #nature photography #nature #sirion #falls of sirion

213 notes

🖼️ wonder-the-earth

is it still a secret city when everyone is talking about it?

👰🏼‍♀️ celebrin following

that's a good question

21 notes

👤 incessant-leaves following

It makes me sick to see all those positive nostalgic posts about the Mereth Aderthad. How pretty the pools of Ivrin were or weren't doesn't change the fact that THE NOLDOR WERE HIDING THE TRUTH ABOUT THE KINSLAYING THE WHOLE TIME. Yeah "everyone was kind" back then. You were feasting together with people whose cousins you had killed and have the audacity to complain they don't like you as much anymore. I don't care if you're a Sinda or a Noldo who "didn't take part in it" - if you say anything positive about it I'm blocking you.

#mereth aderthad #the truth about ivrin

159, 307 notes

💎 lord-maedhros-is-the-true-king

Things they don't want you to know about Fëanaro:

157 notes

🏹 huntingprincess following

with all due respect, gondolin is the most boring place in the world.

🌼 golden-flower

it's not. but you're entitled to your opinion.

🌌 daughterofdoriath following

if only all debates on here were as civil...

👤 incessant-leaves

OP is a kinslayer apologist. Didn't you check that out before you started praising them?

🌌 daughterofdoriath following

*throws hands up*

I was admiring that one exchange.

(and this was actually more about @golden-flower's response than about OP)

*sighs*

#this site...

2009 notes

image used for Sirion: link

#I'll try making part two with men in the picture #but I'm posting this for now #unreality #in universe texts #Tolkien #the Silmarillion #Silmarillion #Beleriand #beleriand politics #first age #noldor #sindar #gondolin

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lemonflavoreddishsoap · 5 months

Note

Hi, may I please for headcanons for la squadra with a gn s/o who often gets mistaken for a prince/ss cause they're fairytale attractive

POV you get kicked out of La Squadra cuz your Disney Prince(ss) ass keeps attracting BIRDS.

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La Squadra with an S/O who gets mistaken as a Prince/Princess

Formaggio

He loves whenever people stop and compliment you, or are absolutely dumbfounded from how pretty/handsome you are. He, probably more than anyone, is aware of just how ethereal you are, and he loves to have the whole world acknowledge it.

If a little kid were to toddle over to you two and asks you directly if you're royalty, due to your beauty, he stands to the side with an amused smile as you explain to the kid that unfortunately you are not!

But as the kid walks away, a tad bit dejected at not meeting a real-life prince/princess, he parts from your side to go crouch next to the little one and talk to them. You don't hear it, but he's sharing a "little secret"...you actually are royalty. He chuckles at the sparkle in the kid's eyes, and the two make a pinky promise to not reveal your "secret to the world" before he catches back up with you.

"What was that all about, Formaggio?" "Oh, don't worry about it."

You find yourself getting called a new petname after that event <3

Illuso

The two of you are BOTH fawned over equally. If you're more on the fem side, the two of you are giving random strangers bisexual awakenings.

And he eats it right up. He's in love with both the attention to himself and the attention to his beloved. Like fuck yes you're also beautiful, it's amazing everyone can see that.

If anyone is to mistake either/both of you as royalty, he'll be perfectly fine with informing them otherwise; more than fine, actually. Why? Well, it's the perfect opportunity to fish for compliments from anyone possible!

"Royalty? Pssh, not at all. You really think so?" "Oh, well I didn't think my face shape was that impressive, y'know..." "MY partner? a prince(ss)? Well yeah, they are quite beautiful, aren't they?"

If you join him in the compliment-fishing he just falls further in love.

Prosciutto

The two of you are ALSO the most gorgeous couple around. Compliments towards your individual and combined beauty are constant because godDAMN.

Pesci is the first one to compare the two of you royalty, and at the time Prosciutto just shrugs it off. Not that he doesn't appreciate his teammate's kindness, it's just that with Pesci it's kind of expected. Feel free to thank him, though - honestly it makes your lover smile a bit to see you get along with his mentee.

It's when some old lady stops you two to sincerely gush over how incredible you two look together that you get reactions. First and foremost, a tightening of his hand around yours.

"Very kind of you, miss. I'm so very lucky to give my life to this perfect individual."

While he's clearly happy with interactions like that, it's when you make the comparisons to one another that he really lets his face grow warm.

Pesci

His heart flutters every time someone is stunned by how attractive you are. He sees himself in their pink cheeks and wide eyes, he knows exactly how they must be feeling. How can someone so beautiful exist?? He sure was still trying to figure that out.

He's just as flustered as you when people call you as pretty as a prince(ss), and he stays quiet, letting you respond to the person. In all honesty, people don't often assume you two are dating at first, but if you bring it up, he is often congratulated for scoring on a lovely fellow/lady. Just think of his smile <333 AUGH

Pesci wants you to be completely aware that he doesn't just love you for your appearance, and he loves everything about you, but...

"...They are right, you're so beautiful!"

He thinks calling you prince/princess is quite fitting, and will definitely ask you if he can start doing so!

Melone

He keeps his mouth shut and watches every interaction: how immediately captivated and smitten every person is, what exactly they compliment, and how you react to each glowing word, whether it be with a flushed face and lost composure or if you smirk and take it all easily.

It's not that he's being creepy or possessive (probably), he just respects that the moment is entirely about you. You and your effortless charm. He just wants to take it all in himself.

But when some wide-eyed young lady likens you to a prince/princess he can't help but grin - you see the same look in his eyes as when he's solving something on his laptop. The result of his calculations? Ah, yep, it's true. You are royally gorgeous.

"What a smart girl. I never connected the words myself but...a prince(ss)? I'd be willing to believe so."

The interaction isn't really brought up between you two beyond that day. However, if there's anything you know about Melone, it's that he's hard to read. For all you know, he could be thinking about it every time he looks at you.

Ghiaccio

His immediate reaction is to wonder out loud how being beautiful automatically connects to royalty. He'll drop it for a second if you ask him too, but when it's just the two of you he'll bring it up again. Really though, can "peasants" not be attractive? What the fuck!?

You have to explain the compliment directed at you to him, but you know what he's like, you pretty much signed up for this. Luckily it doesn't take him long to understand. He agrees, one hundred percent, that you're so incredible that you seem like a fantasy sometimes, so he gives it to you straight how gorgeous you are.

But...it's weird. Something like this usually wouldn't bug him but he can't shake the buzz of feeling bad. He tries not to feel self conscious about his anger, but of all the things to throw a fit over, it happened to be a major compliment to you. He tries to remedy it later that night.

"You are attractive. Most attractive motherfucker in the goddamn world, and hell if that means you're a fucking prince/princess then I guess I have to agree with it. Please never let my temper make you believe I don't love you endlessly."

Good god how you jumble his brain /pos

Risotto

You plague the abstract thoughts of his mind. Every fuzzy visual in his non-terror dreams feel like optical illusions that lead to your face, and the pulses of colour he sees behind his eyelids seem to always be in the hues that remind him of you. In short, he thinks of you a lot. Maybe more than he should.

So when he watches strangers and even some friends praise your appearance, and the comparisons to fantasy and royalty begin, he chews the back of his lip. You, a prince(ss)...he can practically feel his mind begin to run. Something doesn't feel right. He knows the intention of it, but in his mind you're something stronger than that, you're a king. Queen if you prefer.

You rule over his mind, he thinks. You're the foundation of his hope and comfort, but also his fear. Secure in his arms, half asleep and curling into his embrace, you're driving him insane and you aren't even trying. Your mental grip on his challenges his physical grip as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"My queen/king, I love you."

...Yes, yes, you are the most beautiful thing in the world.

#IM SORRY THAT I KINDA. CALLED SOME CHARACTERS PRETTIER THAN OTHERS HERE LMAO #like ghiaccio is my fave but i HAVE to admit Pros and Illuso are pretty #pesci #prosciutto #jjba headcanons #formaggio #illuso #melone #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto #risotto x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #jjba x reader #jjba #the more i write for this blog the more apparent i think it becomes that i want to hug and compliment pesci for days #not even necessarily romanticaly #just in general #sorry that ghiaccio's is like. weirdly specific. idk its just how i made his work #risotto's may seem kinda odd too but i wrote his with NO ideas and so #went kinda nuts #and also The Real World by Owl City was playing which definitely was an influence #maybe ill discuss how i use music to help me write. if anyones interested. its nothing complicated or cool #la squadra #la squadra x reader

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milfgyuu · 9 months

Text

Lessons in Love Pairing: Choi Jongho x Fem!Reader Series: Mr. Right Next Door Tags: 3.5k, Co-Worker!AU, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Humor Warnings: One good smooch and mentions of more smooching. Summary: Your students learn that both you and the teacher next door are single which brings up the pressing matter of getting you two together. Immediately.

You love teaching your fourth-grade class - they are still sweet and inquisitive. Still learning how the world works and all its wonders. They’ve yet to outgrow their innocence and kindness. It’s a beautiful age to experience with an adult perspective and even more amazing that you’re allowed a hand in growing their ever-expanding knowledge and shaping their character.

One thing you hadn’t considered was their surprisingly persistent interest in your lack of a love life.

It had begun at the start of the year when you were getting to know your students and in turn, allowed them to get to know you as well. The kids had so many questions. Did you have a dog? A cat? A house? An apartment? Did you live with your parents? Can you drive a car? Are you married?

It was the answer to the last question that had struck them the most for some reason. You were a grown up but you weren’t married. In their minds, being married is just part of being a grown up so why were you single? What does being single even mean? Do you not know anyone to marry?

A simple introduction had turned into the great inquisition and with wide eyes and a nervous chuckle, you had to re-direct them to the only other interesting topic you could think of.

Recess.

Those clever little things hadn’t forgotten about the lack of a band on your left hand though and made it a point to bring it up every few weeks. Did you go on any dates this weekend? What kind of person would you like to date? If you have lunch with someone every day could that be counted as a date?

Admittedly, you fumbled through those.

You hadn’t realized that you might regret the way in which you answered them because it seems your ever-observant children have been spying you in the cafeteria with the teacher next door whom they’ve also learned is single.

“So, do you like Mr. Choi? You guys always have lunch together!”

“Yeah! And you guys are always smiling and laughing together!”

“And Mr. Choi brings you coffee!”

“My friend in Mr. Choi’s class said that he is single too!”

“Mr. Choi said you had pretty hair!”

“Mr. Choi has really shiny hair too so your kids would have nice hair!”

Left and right the children pelted you with words you had stopped comprehending after the first mention of ‘Mr. Choi’.

Oh boy.

Mr. Choi is your next-door neighbor at school. His classroom is actually attached to yours by a shared storage room and you suppose you do spend quite a bit of time together in front of the students but that’s only natural - you spend just as much time with the other fourth grade teachers.

Well, maybe not the exact same amount of time. You’re usually on lunch and recess patrols together. You always get paired up to chaperone field trips and tend to volunteer for many of the same events like dances and fundraisers.

If you had to really stop and think about it, Jongho was quite handsome. Broad shoulders, pretty smile, kind eyes. His surprisingly dry sense of humor did always make you laugh and he always leaves a coffee on your desk when he notices you’re running late since he is a chronic early riser.

Again, you manage to calm the children and their increasing pitch - your eyes darting to the adjoining door between you and Jongho’s classrooms.

It doesn’t end there, unfortunately, for you and your white blouse, exactly four days later.

“Imagine the fallout if the kids found out we went on a real date…”

Your mouthful of juice sputters and dribbles down your chin before staining the silk of your top with bright red liquid.

Jongho’s mouth straightens into a flat line and he hands you several napkins to dab at your ruined mess. “That doesn’t hurt my feelings at all.”

Leveling him with a peeved look you sigh, “It’s not like that,” and glance back down at your blouse, “You just caught me off guard at the worst possible moment.”

Neither of you are on lunch duties today so you’re sat across from each other at a craft table in the corner of your empty classroom. Little paper chains rustle in the crisp air pumping from the school’s icy vents and you’re grateful for them in the moment since they make you keep a long grey cardigan hung over the back of your chair at all times.

You push back and ignore the sound of your knees popping when you stand to full height. Pinching the material of your shirt you tug at it rapidly as if you have some hope of at least drying the wet spots and speak openly to Jongho who is still diligently picking apart his salad from the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe they’re all so invested,” you comment before rolling your eyes, “Little gossips.”

Jongho snorts. “I’m surprised that you’re surprised. They love ‘spilling the tea’,” he says with an added flair that tells you it’s something he’s picked up from his students, “Whatever that means.”

“Look at you using the lingo,” you chuckle as you sit back down, “And what ‘real date’? Last I checked cafeteria lunch didn’t count. Thought you’d be more of a romantic, Mr. Choi.”

You’re smirking with mirth until Jongho decides to match your teasing, hooking his foot behind the leg of your chair to haul you closer to the table. You squeak in shock at the jolting motion and he laughs, stabbing another bit of cucumber and moving on like you’re not internally marveling at his flippant show of strength.

His thighs are kind of thick and firm you suppose if you think about it.

Which you’re not.

That would be weird.

“What?”

You say it so hastily that Jongho looks at you like you’re losing it and laughs. “I didn’t say anything.”

Oh, so it was because you are crazy.

Embarrassed you shove too much of your sub in your mouth, awkwardly and probably repulsively chewing to manage the gargantuan bite. The sound masks that of the napkin sliding across the table under one of Jongho’s fingers. You look up at him and he just pinches his lips together like he’s sure you don’t want to hear anything he might have to say about the mess on your face.

After the driest most excruciating swallow you’ve experienced to date, you attempt to wash it down with your water in your stupidly expensive bottle and nothing comes out. Pathetically, you whine and try to pry it open. There is a mechanism on the inside of the lid that keeps jamming and you really could use a new one but they’re pricey and you’re living on a teaching salary and a prayer.

“Let me help,” he says, pushing back in his little chair to rub his hands over his jeans like he’s preparing to empty his full strength into the effort to open your bottle but when it gives without so much as a pause he snickers and shrugs handing it back over to you. “Not really much of an opportunity to show off.”

You gawk at him. “What are you talking about? That thing was like welded shut!”

Jongho’s brows playfully rise until they’re high enough to hide beneath his fringe and the overwhelming urge to giggle and playfully swat at him nearly swallows you whole. He is so flirting with you.

Openly.

And you’re tripping all over yourself with glee.

Like any free moment in your school day, it comes to an end far too quickly and your classes are due to arrive in less than five minutes to continue instruction. Ignoring the butterflies in your belly, you take both your trash and Jongho’s to dispose of while he straightens up the table and then it’s time for him to head back to his own room and yet…you both awkwardly linger by the door instead.

“We should-”

“Maybe we-”

Embarrassingly enough, you open your mouths at the same time and talk over each other but you know you do not want to finish your own sentence and Jongho rocks back on his heels knowing he’s got a solid sixty seconds before little voices trail down the hall toward the door.

He takes a deep breath and says your name which is so odd because has he ever said your first name? Surely, he has…so why does it sound different now?

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

It comes out in a bit of a rush and he tacks on a “please” after a second thought and you nod because words don’t seem to form and you’re just stupidly staring back at him but…yes…you would like that. A lot.

Jongho blinks as if he’s shocked that you actually said yes…or well, gestured, that yes you wanted to have dinner together. He hadn’t even planned to ask. He’s not sure when the idea sprouted in his head but once it bubbled up and up and up he just had to let it out.

Now he has to plan the perfect date in less than five hours which means…

He grins and throws his hand up, thumb pointed toward the door behind you. “Gotta meet the kids…How’s seven o’clock? My place? I’ll cook.”

Still nodding, you manage to say something at last, “Yeah…yes. That’s…fine.”

“Okay.”

He slips out the door and you let out a long laughter-filled breath. With your room still empty, no one catches you twirling all the way back to your desk before you flop down into your chair. Well, it’s possible one person saw you since your door bursts open right after and you’re jumping up and into an incredibly animated history lesson.

Meanwhile, Jongho is assembling his kids in a group huddle because they have a new assignment: Helping him decide what to cook.

Your hands shake down at your sides just after you ring Jongho’s doorbell.

Fingers dance along the skirts of your dress - one different than you’d wear in the classroom. Typically, you wear fun floral or artful prints with plants or planets. Things the kids love to talk about. This however is one you hope Jongho will think about, even after your gone. Even when he sees you in your overalls on Monday because your kids are working on art projects.

The door clicks open and there is Jongho in fitted black slacks and a loose white button-down smiling back at you. His hair is…fluffier than usual which is an odd distinction to latch onto but the combination of his hair and his clothing, the relaxed slope of his posture….you can’t seem to stop looking at him.

“You look different.”

Jongho chuckles. “You look the same,” he says and it jolts an incredulous laugh out of you, “I meant that to say I think you always look good but I see that sentiment isn’t shared.”

“Are you going to invite me inside or what, Mr. Choi?”

“Wouldn’t dream of sending you away in that dress,” he smarts, stepping aside to let you in, “Besides,” he closes the door behind you both, “You have to see what a romantic I truly am since you decided to tease me about it.”

A romantic indeed.

His home is crisp, clean, inviting, and it smells heavenly between the cooking he’s been doing and the candles lit throughout. Your eyes dart to little details along the walls and shelves as he guides you to the dining room - also set perfectly with flowers and more candles.

It’s not at all what you expected.

At work, Jongho is relatively quiet but you learned after a few meetings that he was rather charming and engaging. He likes sports and cars - kind of a man’s man. When you became closer, you realized he was chock-full of sarcasm and dry humor. You appreciated him for his company and the laughter that he supplied more than anything and that still stands true but this is a different side of him you haven’t really mapped out.

Hardly noticing that your feet have stopped moving, you’re surprised when you hear Jongho chuckle from your right. “How did I do?”

He almost sounds unsure of himself until you turn to him with a warm smile. “It’s really nice, Jongho.”

Just the sound of his name from your lips makes the tips of his ear tingle. “The kids said flowers and candles were the way to go.”

Taking your seats at the table, you agree. “The kids seem to know too much about romancing for their age.”

Jongho gestures to your glass with the bottle of red in his hands and fills your glass when you nod. “It’s a little admirable though,” he mentions, eyes glancing up to yours, “They have such a pure and simple definition of love. Everything is still so beautiful in their eyes so all they know is a happily ever after and I wish it would stay that way for them.”

“Oh, you’re such a softie.”

Jongho pokes his tongue into his cheek and grins, using his fork to point toward your plate, “Shut up and try the food.”

Again, not something you imagined Jongho would be good at but the food is delicious and there isn’t a takeout box in sight. He mentions something about not getting too excited because he only knows how to make a handful of meals on rotation but it’s still impressive. He also keeps you laughing and entertained throughout the meal, even with the prickles of ‘holy cow, this is a real date’ floating around in your head. It all feels so natural.

“So, you clean up nice, your house is immaculate, you can cook, you’re good with kids…” You twirl you wine, bellies full and plates empty as you sit across from one another, “What are you hiding, Mr. Choi? Where is the catch?”

He grins, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “No, catch. I’m perfect.”

“The catch is that you’re an awful smartass,” you chuckle before draining the last of you drink. “I suppose I already knew that though.”

“I suppose you do,” he returns, gathering the dishes to deposit in the sink for later - for now, he moves you both into the living room to relax on the couch and continue the conversation. “I am genuinely a ‘what you see is what you get’ kinda guy so I don’t know how much I’ll surprise you but ask the hard questions and I’ll answer them honestly. Anything you might want to know before we decide this is a good idea or just mutual attraction and peer pressure from ten-year-olds.”

Because you’re both adults, co-workers, and friends. It would be a waste to pursue a relationship you both want different things out of.

You purse your lips and think for a minute. “Dogs or cats?”

“Both,” he answers easily, “You?”

You tilt your chin in thought, “Both is good…I’m still in the ‘plant mom’ phase so I don’t have any pets but I’d like to. Any plans to relocate in the future?”

Jongho shrugs, “I’m not particularly attached one way or the other. The area here is pretty nice but there are lots of nice places.”

“You’re not overly picky, are you?”

He laughs. “No, not really. I’m pretty laid back.”

In the time you’ve known and worked with him, that tracks. You pivot in your seat, facing him a little more fully. “Oh, boy,” he jests, “Getting to the big stuff, huh?”

“Marriage…kids,” you state plainly, “Thoughts and feelings.”

Jongho rolls his shoulders. “I’m interested in both,” he says simply, though there is a tinge of hesitation like he’s waiting for your reaction, “My parents have been married for thirty years and are still very much in love so it’s probably given me a set of rose-colored glasses when it comes to long-term commitment but the idea of having ‘a person’...like “my person’ to share love and life with, to grow old together…that sounds good to me.”

You nod, chewing on his answer. “And kids? Singular? Plural?”

“Eight.”

You instinctively recoil. He’s playing with you, so you’ll play.

“Well, this has been great,” you pretend to stand up to leave, “See you Monday, frien-”

A funny little ‘oof!’ puffs from your lips when Jongho grabs your hand and pulls you back down onto the couch. It’s just a lucky coincidence you land much closer this time and when Jongho releases your hand, he keeps it close, almost hovering nearby like he’s aching to take it again.

“Yes, I would like kids and no, I don’t care how many. Even one is a blessing and I would be over the moon to be a dad,” his eyes twinkle and it kindles a little warmth in your chest, “You look all ooey-gooey right now. I think you like me.”

You give into the urge to swat him this time. Right in the chest.

Jongho loves it.

“I already like you,” you roll your eyes at yourself for admitting so out loud but it’s a bit obvious at this point and he’s teasing. “I’m not ready for all…that…just yet but I would agree we have enough in common to maybe…give this a try?”

You don’t mean for it to sound so unsure but you haven’t dated anyone in a while and this is your friend, your co-worker…this is kind of a big decision to pursue a relationship and you want to take it seriously.

Jongho squeezes your hand and doesn’t remove it this time.

“If you’re asking me to go steady, I’d gladly accept.”

You let yourself lean into him as you laugh. “Do you always have to give me a hard time? You’re so unserious!”

“That’s not even a word! Aren’t you a teacher?”

You push yourself back with a hand against his arm, “Unserious is totally a word! Aren’t you a teacher?!”

Dissolving into laughter, you wind up holding your hands over your belly to soothe the ache, heads dropped back against the couch. It takes several minutes to settle down, no thanks to Jongho and his smart mouth, but you’re having so much fun you don’t care that your stomach hurts or that your cheeks sting from smiling too much.

Spending time with him like this is something you want more of.

Rolling your head toward him, you break open the fresh silence with a question.

“So, Jongho,” you manage, still a little breathy from laughing, “Would you like to go steady with me?”

He smiles and it’s gorgeous to behold. “Yes, I would.”

Both shoulders jump up to your ears as if the excitement you feel is trying to escape your body and you grin like a fool.

A boyfriend. That’s fun.

“Don’t get mad,” Jongho chuckles, taking your hand back into his, now playing with your fingers comfortably, “I might have seen you dance all the way back to your desk after I asked you out today. You’re really cute.”

Like a vortex opening up and swallowing you whole, you crumble, shrinking into the couch. “You’re kidding...”

Jongho almost feels bad for sweeping your high away so quickly but he’s telling the truth. It was the cutest thing he’d ever seen and shot his ego through the roof. “If it makes you feel better, I called an emergency meeting with my students. They helped me choose dinner and suggested the flowers and candles.”

“And the wine?” you raise a brow, coming back out of your shell.

Jongho uses his free hand to scratch the back of his head. “Called my mom.”

It’s quiet for only a moment and then you’re fawning all over him. “Awww!!! Who’s cute now? That’s so sweet!”

He pretends not to love all your attention. “Yeah, yeah…so, it’s a Friday night and we don’t have school tomorrow…”

“Mhm,” you grin, nodding along playfully.

Jongho lists options off as if he’s reading off a menu. “We can grab another glass of wine, or a beer, I have that too,” he winks, “and bullshit the night away. We could watch a movie or if you’re tired of my company I could just kiss you goodnight - I mean - walk you out.”

He’s smirking like he’s just so funny.

“You could kiss me now, grab me a beer, and then we could talk shit for a little while longer,” you suggest with equal teasing, and his brows shoot up.

Butterflies hardly have time to take flight in your belly before Jongho’s lips touch yours, though it’s not rushed at all. It’s an easy sort of confidence in his movements like he’s so comfortable kissing you - like it’s not the first time and most certainly won’t be the last.

One hand cradles your jaw and he’s still smirking when he pulls away because it was a good kiss and he knows it.

You know it. The universe knows it.

“Beer, movie, and makeout?” he jokingly suggests and you’re hopelessly falling for every ridiculous, unserious word coming out of his mouth.

“You really are just a man’s man, aren’t you?”

Jongho shrugs and gets up to retrieve two cold beers from the fridge calling over his shoulder, “I’m not really into guys, but I could be your man!”

Letting out a sigh that fades into a breathy laugh, you smile to yourself. Yeah, he absolutely could be your man.

Series M.List | ATEEZ M.List | Main M.List

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms WITHOUT PERMISSION! All stories are copyrighted, Bubblebeom, 2021. ©️

#jongho fanfic #Mr. Right Next Door Series #ateez fanfic #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #choi jongho fanfic #jongho x reader #jongho fanfiction #jongho fluff #ateez fluff #ateez series #kpop series #kpop fanfic #lana writes #kpop oneshot #jongho oneshot

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zuffer-weird-girl · 1 year

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Hi love ❤️ I was wondering if you could do Dabi, Shigaraki, chrono and Kai with a S/O who who just grabs them and shoves their face in to her chest when they monologue. Like the S/O is just tired of their endless ranting so she does that to shut them up

*cracks fingers* I would love to-

Listen, you and Dabi rarely fights, so usually a argument is more like the kind of "Oh I like cheese" while the other is staring at you in disgust with a "You are mentally ill."

Really. That's it.

Is actually pretty funny, but now? You were almost throwing a chair at the mktherfucker since he was mocking you about not winning a bet you both made over a movie.

"Another loss doll, what a shame." He muttered, resting his smug face on his hands as he leaned on the kitchen counter as you deadpanned at him.

"Yeah yeah you won, now leave me alone." You hissed.

"Nah. I just need to see your expression at losing again. I can't even remember the count now, do you? I think I won on our lil discussions about of... 100 times already?" He made a false thinking expression as you threw a towel at him...

He obviously dodged with a cackle.

"SHUT UP!"

"I'm just speaking the truth here." He spat with a snort.

You had enough and just went to where he was. Thankfully he was sitting down so it would be more easy.

"Oh. Someone wants a round 2?" He smirked devilish before his eyes went wide open when your hands just grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face right into your tatas.

Well... that was unexpected but surely not unwelcome.

"You're done?" You grumbled with a smile on your face as you nuzzle on his tainted hair before you felt a pair of rough hands squeezing your waist and surely felt a warmth emitting from his face.

"Yeah. I'm shutting up now." The vibrations of his rough voice made you ticklish.

He wouldn't. If you do this every time he will never shut his mouth.

Probably was complaining about heroes or a game he didn't won or smth.

And you were just like "hey chill os not the end of world."

Okay, not LITERALLY because if you say that it will surely cause trouble between you two.

But you got it.

I will go with the second option since I kinda feel bad for him considering the recents events (both manga and anime)

"Tomu is okay."

"No its not." He growled, fingers already at work on scratching his neck "Didn't you see it? That guy obviously cheated. Probably is a momma or daddy boy and got those cheats on games paying billions for it."

"Huh?" You let out. Sometimes in the middle of his angry ramblings you couldn't understand or just the dots didn't connected.

But something you didn't want was for this man to mess up his skin more than it was. His neck was a victim of abuse from his nails already.

You got up in the kindle of his rambling and gently started to caress the oily hair he had before sucefully hushing him and bringing him to a hug with his face other between your chest.

The rambling immediately stopped as his hands started to tremble and for a moment you were afraid you did something to piss him off even more when he just straight up pushed himself away abruptly.

But the sign his face was now a deep shade of red that matched his ruby eyes immediately melted your worry away as you muffled your giggle with your hand.

"Sorry, that got you out of guard tomu?"

He glared up at you before standing up from his chair before just burning his face on your neck, not touching you with his hands still.

He can't even remember why he was so mad about.

Look how effective your love was!

ALL HE KNOWS IS COMPLAIN I SWEAR TO GOD-

Sorry, this man drives me crazy

Anyway-

Surely was bitching about heroes and diseases and how they shouldn't exist/need a cure after bumling with one of them on his walk.

And normally you would sit and listen with pleasure since you were basically the only one Chisaki was open with absolutely everything.

But today was not your day.

You were just staring at him pacing around the room while you were sat on the bed just wanting to go to sleep.

It was a bold and dangerous move considering that normally you warn Chisaki or he just sees so he can prepare himself.

But nope. You just got up and pulled him abruptly to a hug with his face right on your minimum covered chest.

"Please Kai just go to bed... " You sighed while trying to carres the back of his skull.

Only later realizing the fair uncomfortable position he might been.

Chisaki was a bit taller than you... and the angle he was now made him arch his back rather... awkwardly.

You were about to pull away until his gloved hands grabbed the back of your night shirt as he exhaled shakily on you.

Oh...

Guess you guys found a coping mechanism for when he gets nervous.

He doesn't complain. He is an angel.

But he does go a rambling sometimes.

We saw that before he got attacked by a majority he was on ramble about to just kill aizawa.

Okay, maybe not a angel-

I totally can see Kurono as one of those dorky guys that goes mumbling without a care about something he enjoys it a lot.

And got shut out many times when he was a kid due to this habit (many times was Chisaki that ass-)

So he just tends to try to control it

Keyword try.

Because he is so comfortable around you that he can't just out of no where stop.

You're just watching him with a dreamy sigh as he explained in each detail about his favorite gun until he noticed your lack of response.

"Ha.. sorry about that." He scratched his cheek lightly

You weren't having that.

This man was so FLUSTERED when you scorched over and pulled him to nuzzle on your chest on the bed.

Face was 50 shades of red.

"Don't apologize for that. You like those things and I love hearing you talk. Please keep going."

I swear this man had heart eyes when staring up at you from his chest before he resumed his explanations but far more at ease at the position

Might have popped a boner

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shimura tenko x reader #overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chrono x reader #kurono hari x reader #bnha villains x reader #bnha villains #chisaki kai #overhaul #bnha hcs #zuffer writings

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astranva · 2 years

Text

How We Met.

Word Count: 4.4K

Category: Fluff

Warning: some swear words

Summary: In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress!YN at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party.

Pairing: overprotective!chris x pregnant!actress!yn from Planet Evans when they were younger.

Can be read independently x

Planet Evans Universe

“I absolutely love it,” you said to Laura Mercier, your makeup artist for the night as you looked at your makeup through the mirror before turning, your cheeks touching in a kiss, “Always giving me the best treats, love.”

“You’re just easy to work with,” in her lovely, enunciated accent, Laura replied, smiling at you.

“You look amazing, Y/N. Absolutely beautiful,” Ted Gibson, your hairdresser, commented from the side of the hotel suite with a wide smile on his face.

“It takes a village, doesn’t it?” You chuckled, approaching him to press your cheek to his in a kiss, “Thank you, Ted. You know I trust you the most with my hair.”

“And it’s such an honor, you have no idea.”

“Y/N, ready for the dress?” Evie, your personal assistant, asked, “Kate’s coming up.”

Getting ready for events wasn’t always your most favored time, but at moments like that, you were grateful to be working with professional people whom you enjoyed spending time being stuck in a chair for a minimum of 3 hours with.

Kate Young, a trusted young stylist you trusted and enjoyed working with for a couple of years, was sporting an eager grin the moment she stepped inside the suite, immediately approaching your open arms for a greeting hug and a kiss on your cheek, “You already look so beautiful.”

“Aw stop,” you waved her off with a giggle, “Did you have a nice trip?”

“I did,” she replied, “Thank you for letting them pick me up. That was a very nice car.”

“Only the best for my friends, yeah?” You gave her a sheepish shrug, “Are we ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

As your dress was pulled put of its protective bag, a wide grin was painted on your lips, looking at the gorgeous black and orange dress in awe.

“God, I can’t wait to wear you,” you mumbled, running your hand over the soft material.

“Was the Oscar’s one uncomfortable?” Kate asked.

You shook your head, “Was perfect. You know I can never thank you enough for making sure I wear comfortable clothes,” you said, “Nothing beats that pink Valentino gown from last year though.”

“You loved that one so much that you actually kept it,” Kate replied with a laugh.

You hummed with a nod, “It was so good.”

As you stepped out of your robe and into your dress with Kate’s help, she was hesitant to ask you the one question she was very curious to ask.

“How do you feel? I can’t believe you don’t have an Oscar nom this year.”

You smoothed down the front of the gorgeous dress before giving her an assuring smile, “You know I don’t care about that, right?”

“I know, I know, but still. It just doesn’t make sense to me that you didn’t win anything this year, I don’t know.”

“I’m just glad the reviews about The Spectacular Now were good,” you said, “Miles is over the moon about it, and I think–I don’t know really, I’ve been enjoying his reactions to it all more than anything.”

Kate sighed, shaking her head at you as she adjusted the dress, “If you can just be a little selfish and petty for a minute or two.”

You laughed, “Oh yeah? Would you want to work with me still?”

“Well duh, you’re Y/N Y/L/N. Do you realize how much work I’ve been getting ever since I started styling you?”

“It’s because you’re talented.”

“It’s because you’re effortlessly beautiful and the world loves you,” Kate said.

You smiled sheepishly, not replying back as you let her do the final touches before she helped you put on your heels.

Kate stepped back, her hands going to cover her mouth as she took you all in.

“No, stop that,” you laughed, “How do I look?”

“I can’t believe-Y/N, look at you!”

“Best dressed?” You teased her, remembering how she always told you that you were going to be labelled as best dressed whenever she styled you.

“For sure,” she nodded.

You walked back to the living room in the suite, a shy smile on your face as everyone who was helping you get ready gasped and gazed at you.

“You deserve an Oscar for best dressed.”

The ride to the Vanity Fair After Party wasn’t at all eventful, as in its 13-minute glory, you, your driver and personal assistant were jamming to ABBA songs in between Evie taking pictures of you.

“Are you ready?” She asked as soon as the car came to a stop.

“Does it matter?” You joked with a chuckle before Evie gave a nod to the bodyguard standing outside your door.

An awaited entrance was what everyone described it as, because the moment your foot stepped out of the car was the same moment that everyone went wild.

Deafening screams and shouting of your name were heard, the frantic camera shutters in the background as you stepped out of the car with a smile on your face.

“She’s here! Y/N Y/L/N is here!” Multiple interviewers and reporters announced to their cameras.

“I just know that Y/N Y/L/N arrived,” Jennifer Lawrence said in the midst of her interview, attempting to step back and catch a glimpse of you, “God, I’m sweating at the thought of her being here.”

“There’s a photo booth inside, who’s someone you’re excited to take a photo with?” Another interviewer asked Emilia Clarke.

Giving a laugh, Emilia replied, “I’ll be trying my best to impress Y/N Y/L/N to take a picture with her. I’ll be working o-Oh, is that her? That’s her. That’s her.”

You waved to the crowd of eager paparazzi and interviewers, walking down the carpet in a composed strut and giving them your infamous small smile as you followed the carpet’s coordinator before standing in spot and beginning to pose.

Further down the carpet and in a classic black suit stood Chris, hands in his pockets as he smiled at the paparazzi, unaware of the fact that his celebrity crush was breathing the same air as him.

In your orange and black gown, you looked at the snapping cameras, posing to all angles. It wasn’t until you looked beside you that you had spotted Stevie Nicks, whose eye instantly caught yours and with open arms, you both approached each other.

“You look absolutely wonderful,” she said, looking at you from beneath her dark sunglasses.

“No, look at you,” you shook your head before bringing her in another hug, “Let’s take a few pictures together.”

With linked arms, you and Stevie posed together, making other celebrities pause and look so they could witness two icons of different industries just effortlessly make everyone lose their cool.

As you posed, with a calm and collected stance that masked his growing anxiety and butterflies in his stomach, Chris approached an interviewer who instantly beamed at the opportunity of interviewing Captain America.

“You’re looking absolutely amazing,” she began.

“Thank you, thank you,” Chris smiled, giving his suit a quick glance before looking back at her.

“We wanted to know who’s someone that Captain America wants to see tonight? Maybe talk and mingle with inside?”

“Uh, there are a lot of people-a lot of people,” he nodded, looking beside him for a fleeting second before looking back at her, “So many incredible people I want to see. I’m meeting Hemsworth inside though,” he smiled, pointing behind him.

“A little Avengers reunion,” she joked.

“Yeah, just a quick get-together,” Chris chuckled.

“If you can be introduced to one celebrity here tonight, who would it be?”

Chris hummed in thought, looking up as he did before bringing his index to his chin, “Just one?”

“Just one.”

“Probably-Alright, alright,” he nodded, “It has to be Y/N Y/L/N,” he answered.

“Ooo, you went there.”

“I went there,” Chris laughed with a nod, “That’s-That’s the dream.”

“You know, we were just talking to Michael B. Jordan and he gave us the same answer.”

“Oh, oh, guess that’s a challenge now, huh? A competition?” Chris joked with a laugh.

“You need to have a word with him,” the short interviewer joked, pointing at Chris.

“Let’s get to it,” he nodded, playing along.

“Well Chris, thank your for the nice chat and have fun inside.”

“Thank you,” Chris smiled.

As celebrities posed and talked, you were escorted to your first and only interview of the after-party’s red carpet.

With sweaty palms and a frantically beating heart, Vanity Fair’s interviewer had a tight hold on her microphone as you approached her, “Y/N is here,” she announced to the camera.

“How are you?” You asked, sensing her nerves, making you reach forward to give her a brief greeting hug, “You look lovely.”

With a flushed face, she grinned, “Wow, thank you so much but look at you,” she motioned towards you, “Who are you wearing?”

“This is Schiaparelli,” you answered, glancing down at your dress, “It’s such a nice dress, we’ve been working on it for a while now and they did an amazing job.”

“They really did,” she agreed, “You look absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you smiled.

“So, you have two new movies coming out later this year, Gone Girl and Interstellar,” she began, “What should we be expecting?”

“I mean, it’s David Fincher and Christopher Nolan,” you chuckled, “You know better than to have expectations, really. I feel like with Gone Girl, you’re going to need to stay focused when you’re watching it, especially if you haven’t read the book first.”

“Do we need to read the book first before watching it?”

“I feel like it’s a matter of preference here. Some people prefer to read first, others like the surprise of it,” you gave a shrug, “So I can’t really give you a definite answer, you just do what you think is best honestly. There are no rules to how you decide to enjoy the movie.”

“And how was working with Christopher Nolan on Interstellar?”

“Phenomenal,” you smiled, “I admire Nolan and I-I have always wanted to work with him in any way, so I’m just honored to be part of something I believe will be so big—So promising. It’s definitely been an amazing experience that I’d love to go through again.”

“Everyone’s so excited to watch it, it’s all we’ve been talking about,” she smiled, “How does Miles feel about the movies? Is he excited?”

If there was anything you were sure of, it was that after going public a year ago with your relationship with Miles Teller, you were always going to get asked about him.

“He’s very excited,” you nodded with a smile, “He’s been so supportive. He’s-He’s incredible.”

“Awww,” she cooed, “Alright last question, anyone we expect to see you partying with inside?”

You laughed lightly, “Well,” you looked around for a moment, “So many friends here,” you said, “I think I’ll be floating around,” you answered, “There are so many people I want to see inside. There’s the incredible Serene Williams, there’s Jennifer Garner, Anne Hathaway, Taylor Swift,” you listed, “So many people, so many people.”

“It’s going to be a busy night.”

“Busy night for sure,” you chuckled.

“Well, thank you so much, Y/N. We hope you have a great night.”

“You too, love, thank you,” you gave her a smile, inching forward to give her another brief hug before moving away.

After what seemed like forever of posing to flashing cameras and screaming grown women and men, all voices of shouting were replaced by the sound of music and chatter as celebrities of all statuses mingled, danced, and talked.

There you stood, your big gown looking smaller after you had taken off your big orange train and were left with the black fitting dress, the orange on the front not being the only vibrant thing about you–it was you as a whole.

Nervous celebrities eyed you, wishing they had the courage to approach you. Envious celebrities ogled at you, wishing it were them whom people worshipped the ground they walked on.

And then there was Chris.

You seemed engrossed in the conversation you were having with Jennifer Garner; back straight, eyes set on Jennifer, nodding to what she was saying, and Chris couldn’t help but keep glancing at you.

“Join the line,” Hemsworth joked, elbowing him with a quiet chuckle before bringing his drink to his lips.

“You can introduce yourself,” Liam Hemsworth said from beside his brother, “She’s lovely. A fucking gem.”

“You talked?” Chris asked.

Liam nodded, “A couple of years ago at The Hunger Games premiere,” he answered.

“He almost shat himself,” Hemsworth said, laughing when Liam jabbed him in the ribs.

“Coming from the guy who fucking cried when she shook his hands during Snow White and the Hunstman premiere.”

“Oh fuck off,” Hemsworth scoffed.

“I can’t blame either of you,” Chris said, “She’s–Look at her,” he discreetly motioned towards you, “She’s successful as fuck, right? She is. But she’s–She’s so fucking beautiful, look at her.”

“Join the fucking line,” Hemsworth repeated, laughing when Chris flipped him off, “She’s intimidating, I admit.”

“But she’s also so sweet,” Liam said with a slight shake of his head, “But I think-Look, don’t get offended but imagine you go up to her and she has no idea who you are.”

“Thank you, Liam,” Chris replied sarcastically, “Thank you so much. That-That honestly makes me feel so much better.”

The older Hemsworth chuckled as his younger brother raised his hands up, “Sorry, mate, just-You probably thought about it.”

“Of course I did,” Chris replied, “She’s Y/N Y/L/N for fuck’s sake,” he discreetly motioned towards you.

“And if she did know you? Then what? You date? Get married?” Hemsworth joked.

“That’s as if she’s single,” Liam chuckled, “Miles is one lucky fucker.”

“Is so,” Chris nodded, glancing at you, “It’s not like I want something. I just-Don’t we all just admire her? Like, look at that,” he pointed, “Here’s Orlando Bloom looking at her, and here’s-I don’t know who the fuck that is but she’s been taking a step forward then backward for the past, like 15 minutes and trying to talk to her,” he said, making the brothers watch, “There’s no way I can set a foot near her without making a fucking fool out of myself.”

“Aw come on, mate,” Hemsworth patted him on the shoulder, “That’s some negative talk.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris raised his eyebrows, “Go talk to her then.”

“Nah,” Hemsworth, with a feigned nonchalant expression, scrunched his nose and shook his head with a shrug, “I’m-I’m good.”

Unaware to the conversations happening about you, you laughed with Jennifer Garner, only beaming when you were joined by Anne Hathaway, greeting each other with a kiss to the cheek.

“How was filming with Nolan?” Anne asked.

“A breeze,” you answered, “And Mathew’s just amazing to work with. They brought this kid,” you began, “I think he’s eighteen or nineteen, I can’t really remember. His name is Timothee Chalamet.”

“Is that French?” Jennifer asked.

You nodded, “American-French,” you stated, “And you heard it from me first but give him a few years and everyone and their mother is going to want this kid.”

“You always do that!” Anne laughed, pointing at you, “You always predict these things!”

“Exactly like what happened with Jennifer Lawrence,” Jennifer laughed, “You have a radar.”

You laughed, giving your friends a shrug, “I don’t even know, I just-His role is pretty small, but I have a gut feeling about him, I can’t explain it.”

“You never do,” Anne said, “But hold on now,” she held her hand out, “Where’s Miles?”

“Things have been a little messy with his movie’s release date,” you said, “He hasn’t been sleeping well, hasn’t been, like, dealing with it all so well. Just tired, you know? So we figured it’d be better if he sat that one out,” you said.

They both nodded, “How does he feel about the movie? Was it draining?”

You nodded, “It was, but I have a good feeling about it.”

They smiled at each other, “That’s when you know it’s a good movie,” Jennifer said, pointing at you.

“Speaking of good movies,” Anne began, “Did any of you get invited to that new Marvel movie coming out next month? The Captain America one?”

You nodded, “I did, but I’m not sure I’ll be going.”

“Why?”

“Because Marvel’s been on my ass since 2008, I don’t want them thinking that by going I’ll be giving them a shot.”

“What do you have against them so bad?” Jen laughed.

“Because I don’t want to belong to one universe,” you answered, “It’s different when it’s drama—when it’s a series, but with movies? I like to experiment with those, and that’s just not something I can do with Marvel.”

“Good point,” Anne said, “Man, fuck superheroes.”

“But-wait, wait,” Jen held her hands out, inching closer, “Have you actually seen Captain America? Like the actor?”

“Isn’t he-The blond?” You asked, “Big body?” You puffed your chest.

“He’s not looking very blond right now,” Anne said before bringing her glass to her lips, tilting her head slightly to the right.

“Don’t look because he’s been looking here,” Jen told you.

“I won’t,” you said, “I have a boyfriend. Stop that.”

Anne gasped dramatically, “You can’t deny it when someone’s good looking.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling, “Doesn’t mean I need to look.”

“Just a tiny glance.”

“No.”

“A glimpse.”

“No.”

“A little peak.”

“No.”

“A-Holy fuck, he’s coming over.”

“N-what?”

The 3 of you cleared your throats, straightening your postures as you put up a nonchalant front, beginning a random conversation of “wow, that happened?” and “and what else did you do?”.

It wasn’t until you heard someone clear their throat that your head turned to the sound, coming face to face with a bearded, not blond, and anxious Chris.

“Hey, um, I’m really sorry if I’m intruding,” he began, looking at you before glancing at Jennifer and Anne, “But I’m a huge, huge fan and just-I just-um, I thought it would be okay if I came and said that. That I’m a huge fan, I mean.”

Chris felt like the biggest loser.

Between being in your close proximity, to your eyes on him, to him fumbling over his words, he wished for nothing more than for earth to swallow him whole right there and then.

But then you gave him a warm smile, eyes glistening under the lights and face welcoming to his nervous, shy aura.

You held your hand out and Chris almost melted.

Warm and delicate are two adjectives he’d use to describe your hand as you shook hands.

“What an honor,” you began, “We were just talking about your movie that’s coming out next month.”

And then he felt like crying because holy shit you knew he was an actor, you knew his movie, and you knew its release date.

The moment your hand left his was a moment that Chris would never forget because if he had a last wish, it definitely was to keep your hand in his for the longest while and that was something that your boyfriend didn’t need to know.

“Were you?” In surprise, Chris asked.

You nodded, “I loved the first part,” you said.

Unbeknownst to Chris, you did love the first part and you did want to watch the next one but there was one thing you couldn’t remember.

His name.

“Oh, oh wow,” he laughed, “Thank you, that means a lot,” he put a hand to his heart, “Means so much,” he said, “I can’t wait for your movies either. I’m-I’m sure they’re going to be incredible.”

“Right? She never disappoints,” Anne said, smiling at you before looking back at Chris.

Jennifer nodded, “Only Y/N can have Nolan and Fincher movies coming out in the same year.”

“Only Y/N,” Chris agreed, “Let’s not forget Peaky Blinders.”

“Peaky Blinders!” Anne exclaimed with wide eyes, “I physically can’t wait for the second season.”

“It’s a good one,” you said with a smile, “We were talking about you, how did this turn to be about me?” You asked Chris, “Have you been enjoying the title? The Captain America title?”

“I’ll go check on Ben,” Jennifer said, “Excuse me,” with a smile, she walked away.

You hummed at Chris, letting him know that he had your attention.

“I-“

“I need to use the restroom,” Anne then said, “Sorry. Excuse me,” she smiled at the both of you before walking away.

“Sorry,” you smiled at Chris, “Go on.”

At the fact that it was just you and him, Chris grew more anxious. He wasn’t sure if it was respectful to put his hands in his pockets as he talked to you, deeming you as royalty, but his sweaty palms chose otherwise by letting him stuff them in his warm pockets.

“Um, it’s-it’s been a positive experience at most, I’d say. Maybe-It’s definitely stressful,” he said, you nodding as you intently listened, “You know, having to-having to always look a certain way, behave a certain way because there are children who are-children who are taking Cap as a role model, that sort of stressful, you know?”

You hummed, nodding, “I understand,” you said, “It’s definitely stressful and I can’t say you’ll be getting over it any time soon,” you chuckled slightly, “But I feel like you have so much power to set a right example to kids right now.”

Chris nodded, “Definitely, definitely,” he agreed, “That’s the half full cup right there.”

“The half full cup,” you nodded with a smile, “Are you excited about the world seeing your new movie? How does it feel?”

Liam was right. You were a fucking gem.

If it weren’t for Hemsworth bribing Chris by telling him that he’d steal the Captain America shield for him, Chris wouldn’t have been standing with you, that was for sure. But what Chris didn’t expect was that you were going to keep the conversation flowing, wanting to make him feel seen and heard in a way he didn’t expect someone of your status to care about.

“I’m excited,” he began, “Nervous for sure,” he laughed, making you nod with a laugh, understanding where he was coming from, “But I’m trying to mask that with excitement.”

“Fake it till you make it,” you gave him a shrug with a smile—an innocent act that shouldn’t have made Chris swoon.

“That’s right,” he chuckled. Chris knew it was risky. He knew that he’d be kicking himself in the balls later, but nevertheless, he still asked: “Would you-Would you like a drink?”

It wasn’t the first time that you were asked the same thing by those who feel adventurous enough to ask, and in a way, it was easy to answer.

“Um, I don’t drink,” you said, not wanting to bruise his anxious ego.

It was one thing that you didn’t want to be grabbing drinks with people who might misinterpret your agreement to you being interested even though you had a loving boyfriend, and it was another that it was your history with an abusive, alcoholic, sick excuse of a father keep you away from putting alcohol anywhere near your lips.

“But I did hear that Bill Murray has a special order that everyone’s been getting,” you added quickly, not wanting him to get embarrassed, “I’m sticking to my lime soda,” you chuckled, raising your empty glass.

His cheeks were already flushed red, giving you a smile as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I-I understand,” he said, “I mean I understand that you don’t drink. I respect it. Not that I understand Murray’s order,” he rambled before his face fell a little, “I understand that Murray has a special order though, I just-I don’t know what it is, but I get it. I-Fuck,” he said the last part under his breath, embarrassment almost seeping through his skin.

You gave him an assuring smile, “I don’t know what the order is either,” you said.

Before Chris could further embarrass himself, he watched as Lady Gaga approach you, putting her hand on your shoulder before you turned, letting out an excited “Oh!” before hugging her.

He couldn’t hear what Gaga said to you, but he could see her pointing behind her before you nodded and turned to him, “Would you excuse me?”

“Yeah, of course, sure. Yeah,” he nodded, “Go ahead.”

Reaching your hand out, “It was nice talking to you,” you smiled, “Good luck with your movie.”

“Same here,” he smiled, shaking your head, “Thank you.”

“Get that special order, will you?” You joked before turning with Gaga and walking away.

Walking back to the Hemsworth brothers, Chris tried to maintain a calm and collected stance, pursing his lips as to not laugh at their reactions; Chris Hemsworth bit his fist in feigned worry, Luke covered mouth as he laughed, and Liam was calmly clapping and nodding his head at Chris.

“How was it?” Chris H. asked as soon as Chris approached them.

“I-I might have made a fucking fool out of myself but I’m pretty sure that was my ‘I made it’ moment,” he pointed behind him.

Like a bunch of high school kids, the tall men were giggling, laughing and clapping each others on the backs as Chris acted out his brief conversation with you, being everything but professional actors at a high-profile after party.

It wasn’t until Evie, your assistant, approached you later to make sure your makeup and hair were all set that you managed to ask:

“Who’s the guy who plays Captain America? What’s his name?”

“Chris Evans,” Evie answered with an eager smile, “Saw him looking like a nervous kid and talking to you.”

You chuckled, “He was nice,” you said, “Just felt bad for not remembering his name.”

“Poor guy,” she said, brushing back a piece of your hair and lightly patting it into place, “He’ll probably remember this moment all his life.”

You only hummed before thanking her, going back to your night of mingling, unaware that until the very last moment of his night, Chris was as bright as a kid on a Christmas night over talking to you.

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