#[ and the other day i heard some kids call my high school music OLD stuff and im like LISTEN HERE YOU LIL SHIT!!! ] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redahlia-writes · 11 months

Text

be still my foolish heart. | joel miller

Abstract: He still felt unsure, unsteady, both wanting to keep her at arm’s length and welcoming her back in his life like before, drown in the comfort he’d found in her presence year after year since they were kids. She’d tried to reassure him, and he knew she was right–you could not live in the world they did and not change. But he remembered her in pigtails on the first day of school, he remembered her prom dress being awfully 80s, and he remembered the first time he’d seen her with Sarah–gentle voiced and wide eyed, holding her as if she might shatter should she breathe a little too hard.

Words: 9.7k

Content: f!reader (called “sugar” as a nickname, described as shorter than joel); childhood friends to lovers, mentions of child’s death, grief, mentions of attempted suicide, PTDS, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, this was supposed to be about joel and sugar but there’s a lot of joel/ellie too. a lot, idiots in love, slow(ish) burn, ellie being a loving little shit, canon divergence (they get to jackson and don’t leave but i never explain why), some very minor spoilers for tlou2, purple prose, unedited

A/N: loosely inspired by almost (sweet music) by hozier; the song they listen to is night and day and can be found in ella fitzgerald sings the cole porter song book (1956).

also on AO3 - masterlist

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

Ellie had never seen a deer in headlights, only saw pictures of the creatures and heard the expression every now and then from older people.

She imagined the way Joel looked in that moment was what they meant.

Frozen still, eyes wide and lips parted, even holding his breath if the lack of condensation by his face was any indicator, Joel stood next to his brother with his back straight, the only indication he hadn’t suddenly turned into a piece of rock the light twitch in his right hand.

There’s someone you should see, Tommy had told him, half a day after they’d gotten to Jackson–they’d had time to eat and leave the few stuff they still had in the house, and right before she could hit the shower Tommy had walked in. Not keen on the idea of being left alone, Ellie had followed the Millers quietly. Joel had even teased her about it.

“Who’s the quiet one now?” she’d huffed at Joel’s sudden immobility. Tommy had looked at her with that half grin that she imagined Joel must’ve had, too, at some point, and then lifted his arm to wave a hand in the direction of a small group by the school. A woman pulled her head up, a green woolen hat low on her brow, and then waved back, a smile visible even from there. “Anyone you know?” she asked, looking back at Joel.

He still did not bat an eye.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she exclaimed, extricating herself from the rest of the group with a quick apology. “Joel Miller,” she called, the name rolling with a certain familiarity out of her mouth as she approached them, brushing some snow from her coat.

“Sugar?” the word came out strangled–his mouth was dry, the ground unstable beneath him. Suddenly, he wasn’t 56 anymore but 16 years old, and around him a shitty classroom that could do with some fixing, or an all too familiar living room, a cluttered bedroom with dark walls–and the smile he was offered had not changed a bit.

“Sugar?” Ellie echoed, a little baffled. Her eyes darted towards the girl, a glint of curiosity.

“Only one who still called me that after we left high-school,” the woman chuckled, stepping forward with her arms open. “Come on, c’mere–it’s been too long.”

Joel hesitated–when was the last time he’d hugged someone? Maybe Tess, though he could not remember when, but that had always been more a clinging-to-each-other type of thing. A hug, that was different, and he felt stuck on the spot all over again.

Before he could overthink it too much, Ellie pushed him forward, making him grunt in protest as he almost fell into the woman’s embrace–he wrapped his arms around her, the movement somewhat foreign, and slowly leaned into it. Despite the cold and snow, she was warm underneath all the layers of clothing she donned, and smelled of freshly cut grass. It reminded him of another time, and if he closed his eyes he could almost see it. He exhaled.

“You stink, Miller–how long have you been out there?” she laughed softly, one hand cupping the back of his head, same way she used to when they were younger. He remembered dancing.

“A while,” he admitted, unable to argue with that, easing into the embrace furthermore. “Sorry,” he added, and she patted his shoulder gently, another delicate chuckle that rang crystalline to his ears.

“I’ve had it worse, it’s alright,” she murmured, chin hooked over his shoulder–he could feel her straining to stand on her tiptoes, slightly unbalanced, and lowered himself against her, face buried in the curve of her neck wrapped by a soft scarf that matched the hat. She sighed softly at the movement, her fingertips scratching across his scalp. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” voice slightly muffled and blind to the world, Joel was able to admit that. Maybe it was nostalgia, making him forget everything else for a few moments as he lingered in the peacefulness of that familiar touch, or maybe it was exhaustion, blurring the edges between who he used to be and who he was now.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” she whispered then, and it felt like ice through his veins. He pulled back slightly, the urge to run away making his limbs tremble–but she kept him caged in, the arm around his shoulders stronger than he remembered (was he tired? Was he too out of it?), and the hand that had brushed his hair falling to his cheek, brushing away some of the grime he’d grown used to by then.

But it was her gaze that kept him rooted, though, that softness he didn’t think could still exist in the world they lived in, and emotions he had almost forgotten, ignoring them each time they presented themselves–it’d be too risky to feel them, too easy to surrender to it again: sorrow, grief. It cut his breath all over again.

“Tommy told me,” she kept her voice low, her touch gentle, rubbing her thumb across his uneven beard. The bustling in the air was foreign after so many months of quiet, and he wasn’t sure which one made his body ache–the current life, or the past death.

“Of course he did,” he scoffed, and her expression shifted, a reprimand in her gaze that used to make him laugh when they were younger, and furthermore when she grew into that same expression, year after year of standing together.

“Joel,” she chided, still soft-voiced, still attempting to comfort him through that small motion on his face. He remembered that touch and kind, encouraging words with a baby in his arms; he remembered his name called out through laughter–hers, his daughter’s; he remembered winters and summers and years before that. He closed his eyes, a furrow in his brow.

“No, of course he did,” he exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry, it’s just–she really liked you, you know?” his eyes remained closed, trying to push back the pressure building behind his eyelids, trying to swallow the knot in his throat.

“I know,” he felt her nod, press herself closer just as her name was called from behind them. When he looked up at her again, her eyes were shimmering, that vulnerability he hadn’t had the courage to show again after the ringing in his right ear had stopped. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, bringing her other hand to his face, too, holding him like that. He nodded, afraid that if he spoke right away he would crumble.

All it had taken was a gentler touch, and he was ready to fall apart.

“You oughta go–looks like you’re needed,” he cleared his throat, the damn knot clinging to his larynx seemingly impossible to push away. She looked over her shoulder, the group she was with before waving her over, and sighed before turning back towards him.

They still hadn’t let go of each other, and neither seemed willing to make the first move.

“I’m expecting you all for dinner,” she spoke a little louder then, turning her head as if to look past Joel’s shoulder but without moving her gaze from him. “Alright, Tommy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the younger Miller called, his eyes returning to the pair after having wandered elsewhere for the duration of their reunion–the most privacy that could be given in that context. Ellie hadn’t been as subtle, her head tilted and a curious look in her eyes at the sudden burst of emotion that seemed to roll off Joel’s back. It was astounding.

In the end, she was the first to depart, a kiss to Joel’s cheek that seemed to melt away what little tension was left in him. He stumbled back as she walked towards the group, one last look over her shoulder that ended up being directed towards Ellie, a quick smile and small wave she returned, somewhat unsure.

“I felt the same way,” Tommy rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder, as if to shake him from the haze that seemed to have permeated him thoroughly.

“She been here long?” he was frowning again, forcing his gaze away from the back of her head to look at Tommy. The younger Miller nodded a couple of times.

“Even before I got here,” he said, slowly beginning to lead him away, Joel seemingly rooted to the spot once more. “You know Sugar, she’s always been a step ahead of us,” he added, and in his murmur there was a fond smile.

“Sugar?” Ellie repeated, her eyebrows arched with her returned bafflement.

“Just a stupid nickname,” Joel muttered, shaking himself off in a way that seemed more a recoil–he turned and cleared his throat. “Old nickname. Don’t even know who came up with it in school. It stuck.”

“For you it stuck,” Tommy was smiling, clearly amused. They seemed so different, Ellie thought. Had they always been like that? She wondered if she could ask her. “Pure irony, really,” Tommy continued, addressing her. “She always fought people–a real spitfire.”

“You only say that because you got slapped,” Ellie’s eyebrows arched furthermore at Joel’s scoff, a tint of amusement in his words.

“And you,” the younger Miller retorted, making Ellie’s lips part.

“Oh, I like her,” she exclaimed, turning to look at her–she was back at work, the scarf now covering the lower part of her face, though she could still hear her laughter ring clear.

A week later, they stood in her living room.

Though they’d met again around town after that first day, it had taken both Joel and Ellie a moment to settle in. The house felt odd for them both–Ellie having never had one, Joel not remembering his old one. It helped that she lived just around the corner, and in the morning he’d see her walk by to head towards the center.

Slowly, he found a routine, found a way to make himself useful, and leaned into it. Ellie was wilder, refusing to go to school and spending most of her time in her bedroom, Walkman constantly on as she went through pages and pages of old diaries, old books.

“Wanna come to this thing with me?” was the only thing he asked her that night–they threaded carefully around each other, murmured confessions before he sent her to bed at night (the only thing he was firm with, leaving her her space otherwise). It wasn’t time that did it, Ellie’s head resting on his shoulder as she fiddled with the new record he’d found for her. When I got bit in the mall I wasn’t on my own, Riley’s name bitter on her tongue.

“What thing?” Joel’s hair was slicked back, a new shirt Tommy had gotten for him along with his jacket. He actually looked put together, which was the reason why Ellie sat up quickly. “Are you going to Sugar’s?”

“Stop calling her that,” he muttered, though it was the only way he ever referred her as–old habits, he thought. “Yeah–Tommy and Maria are gonna be there too, we’re all adults so if–”

“Let’s go,” she hopped up.

And so they were in her living room, scarcely decorated but recognisable as hers nonetheless, and Ellie walked around the place with a curious gaze, hands fidgeting at her sides.

“How did you convince her to come here?” Maria asked quietly, as the three of them waited for the lady of the house–she had categorically refused any help in the kitchen, ordering them to wait by the set table. Old habits, Joel thought again.

“I didn’t,” he shrugged, watching the kid linger at a picture set in a cracked frame, the dance of her fingers ceasing for just a moment. “I think she likes her–probably has to do with the slapping stories.”

“Definitely has to do with the slapping stories,” Tommy chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Ellie asked, without turning to look at them. “Actually–him I can understand,” Joel scowled at Ellie’s remark while she pointed at him, spinning around to face the three of them. “But why did she hit you?” Maria chuckled at that, while Tommy almost choked on his drink and his face burned a brighter shade of red.

“Ah, well, I–” he cleared his throat–it was another time, he thought. So many years before. “I–kind of made a move on her. And then told her I was gonna join the army,” he rubbed his jaw, some sort of nervous twitch as he glanced in a grinning Maria’s direction. “Still not sure which one pissed her off more.”

“The army,” she said, coming into the living room while holding a fuming pot she was quick to place on the table. Joel’s posture changed, a slight shift towards her by the head of the table and his head twisting so that his gaze would be on her, the ghost of a smile across his lips. “If one of you was going to be a self-sacrificing idiot and leave, I expected that to be Joel.”

“You shipped yourself off to college,” Tommy protested as they sat down–Joel remained next to her on left, Ellie next to him (she didn’t like being on his deaf side, but she preferred it to sitting away), Tommy and Maria on the other side.

“Definitely not the same thing,” she wrinkled her nose in a half-grimace, plating up the food–whatever it was, Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d smelled something so good, her stomach already grumbling. Tommy scoffed lightly, passing on the plates.

“Wait, you made a move? If anything I thought–” before Ellie could finish the sentence, Joel pinched her leg, making her yelp and turn to him wide-eyed. “What the hell was that for?”

“Manners,” he muttered–at the corner of his eye, the woman tried to fight off a smile, setting the last plate in front of him. “Eat your food.”

She looked at the older Miller and the kid throughout the dinner and the chats, the scowls and grins, his reprimands and her sharp tongue. It was a familiar scene, late dinners stolen in a living room she once knew like it was her own.

The younger brother leaving early on was familiar, too, Maria tiring easily from the pregnancy and Tommy refusing to leave her side for longer than necessary–her heart ached at the thought of Tommy Miller having grown up, until it functioned as a reminder that growing up in their world now meant surviving. It was easier to think of it like that.

“Just means you’re gonna have to come back for dessert,” she said as Maria hugged her, winking in Tommy’s direction, too.

“We should get going, too,” Joel cleared his throat once it was just the three of them, heading for the rack where his and Ellie’s jacket hung. She had the fleeting thought that he was trying to avoid being alone with her–though they weren’t really alone–as he had for the whole week. A quick greeting and then away, never lingering too much around her. She figured it was because he was still settling in–hoped that was the reason, in spite of the years gone by.

“But I want dessert!” the girl protested, still sat at the table (by herself).

“Ellie,” he sighed heavily, not turning to look at her as picked up her coat.

“Joel,” she retorted in the same tone, unmoving. The woman looked between the two of them with an eyebrow arched, fighting the smile off of her lips the moment Joel sighed again, head falling forward. It wasn’t needed, but Ellie took it a step further, softening her voice for a, “Please?”

Joel Miller had always had a hard time saying no to his daughter. Guess things hadn’t changed that much.

“If we’re bothering–” he started, his gaze flicking from Ellie to her.

“Oh, quit that, Miller,” she scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Ellie, grab your plate, come,” Joel remained frozen for a moment as the girl beamed, standing with the plate in her hands and quickly following her towards the kitchen. A beat, and then he went after them, bringing with him the rest of the dirty dishes they’d left behind.

“What is that?” Ellie had stopped abruptly at the entrance of the kitchen, eyes wide, forcing Joel to walk around her at the last moment, stumbling towards the woman who was placing a tray onto the counter. He lingered a moment, his gaze following the twisted pattern made of golden dough, and once more he felt transported back ages in time.

“My mama’s apple pie,” she said gently, a smile grazing her face–there was a bitterness to it, too, with the realization that that was probably the first time Ellie saw one outside of pictures. “We produce the flour ourselves, and have the dogs check it for possible contamination, so it’s safe,” Joel could almost see the hope in her eyes in trying to reassure the kid, grabbing the knife and offering it to her by the handle. “Wanna have a go?”

Ellie’s eyes shimmered with excitement as she took the sharp knife, getting closer to her–she leaned with one arm on the counter, while with the other hand she showed her where to start, mimicking the movement of cutting down towards the crust. As he placed the dirty dishes in the sink, Joel inhaled deeply, the perfume coming out of the still warm filling in fumes.

“Jesus,” he muttered with a soft groan, turning around quickly. Ellie stilled, her gaze flickering from where she held the knife up to him, then back to the grinning woman who was looking at him, too. “Sorry.”

“You know, your–” she stopped herself, clearing her throat before straightening her back. “Joel would always know when we made this at my place. I don’t know how but he did–never failed to show up when my mama got one in the oven.”

“Sixth sense,” Joel chuckled, getting closer as well, his mouth already watering. “Smells just like then,” he mumbled, shifting on the spot when she bumped her hip against him, her smile widening. “You know, Sarah wanted to call you to bring it over, before–” he cut himself off.

Ellie shuffled on the spot, the knife in her hand a sudden weight she didn’t like–Joel had mentioned just in passing Sarah to her, admitting first and foremost to her existence, half-joking over their differences. But whenever he did his eyes would go unfocused, gaze dropping to the broken watch.

She watched as the woman pressed herself slightly closer, hand brushing the back of Joel’s, right up to the cracked watch before she even looked up, the movement seemingly enough to draw Joel’s attention towards her; she watched as the man cleared his throat, right hand twitching before he exhaled, pulling back as if in afterthought, reaching for the cupboard; she watched Sugar’s head drop slightly, and then straighten again with a forced smile in her direction. Ellie returned it tentatively.

“Alright, kiddo–it’s best when it’s warm,” she encouraged, taking the knife from her as Joel returned with clean plates. She deposited the slice on one, pushing it in Ellie’s direction. “Too bad we haven’t got any ice cream, tastes even better with that.”

“Can’t miss what I never tried, right?” Ellie shrugged, that crooked smile still on. “Thanks,” she added then, stepping away, back towards the living room. She’d started to learn when others needed space.

“Joel,” his name whispered was like a bucket of ice water thrown in his face, a shuddering breath leaving him when he turned to look at her. Her head was slightly tilted, a soft gaze that tethered on mournful. Joel didn’t want pity. He wanted so much, but not pity.

“Can’t,” he said through gritted teeth. Her hand reached for him again, slower, fingers brushing his knuckles as they whitened with the clench of his fists above the counter. “Sugar, I can’t,” he repeated, looking down. She pressed her palm over the back of his hand, a firm knead to unfurl his fingers from where they pushed into his own palm, blunt nails still leaving their mark. He shook his head.

“It’s just me,” she kept her voice low, soft.

Tommy had told her a lot–the whole of it, really. Sarah’s death. Joel’s attempt. The shift in him–the shift in them both, but mostly Joel. The anger. The bad, awful things they’d done. The anger, the only thing Joel seemed to have felt for the past 20 years.

It nearly broke her heart.

“I know,” his eyes flickered towards the door leading to the living room, Ellie’s head peeking from behind the backrest of the armchair. “You haven’t changed one bit, but I–”

“That’s not true,” she shook her head, scooting closer. “I have. Everybody has. We had to,” curling her fingers around his hand, she slowly picked it up, bringing it closer to her. There were calluses on her fingers he didn’t remember from the years before, lines across her face he thought were a trick of the light. “You think you lost your humanity when Sarah died, but that’s not true,” she tilted her head towards the living room, gaze flickering to Ellie, the scrape of the fork against the plate the only sound coming from her. “She’s proof of that. You must see that.”

“She was a job,” his hand felt cold in hers, fingers twitching slightly. Each time, she squeezed it softly, bringing it closer to her stomach. He could feel her warmth even like that.

“She was,” she nodded in agreement, shifting so she could meet his gaze. “And now?”

“It’s complicated,” he returned, and a bittersweet smile grazed her lips.

“You always saw things as more complicated than they actually were,” she let go of him, and Joel clenched his hand suspended mid-air in her direction, while she turned towards the counter, taking the knife up again to cut two more slices of pie and plate them. “Perhaps you’re not exactly your old self, but you’re still almost you, no matter what you tell yourself, Joel,” she pushed one of the plates in his direction, glancing at him once more. “Eat up.”

Joel had a hard time breathing. It happened less frequently–it had been weeks since his last episode, he’d almost forgotten about it–but it still did, every now and then. He hated it.

He wasn’t sure what triggered it: he wasn’t doing anything specific, was just thinking about how to fix the creaky step that led up and down his patio, when all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and his chest ached, right in the middle, like a weight trying to pin him down against the ground–but the ground didn’t feel stable, and he had to lean against the wall for support while everything spun around him.

Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. He’d gotten used to the muffled sounds in his right ear, and the sudden high pitched noise made him dizzy, made his vision waiver, made him unable to exhale. The next breath scratched at his throat, like a badly chewed bite refusing to go down, no matter how many times he tried to swallow.

“Dad?” he gasped, the town suddenly in front of him again. The edges were still blurred, but right in front of him stood Ellie–a few steps behind, Sugar had her head tilted, a curious gaze in her eyes.

“What?” his voice rang still distant, somehow, and he shook his head, trying to clear the clouds away.

“I said are you alright?” Ellie frowned, getting a step closer. “Joel, are you going deaf in both ears?” she asked, and that melted away the tension in Joel’s shoulders with a sigh.

“Very funny,” he muttered, pushing himself off from the school wall. “I just got distracted, is all. You ready?” he cleared his throat, glancing briefly in the woman’s direction.

“You know you don’t have to come get me every day, right?” Ellie mumbled, moving at his side. “It’s not like I can run away,” Joel gave her a look–eyebrows arched, head slightly tilted, that same expression he used when Tommy said something dumb. Ellie could almost hear it.

You ran away from FEDRA and sneaked into a sealed mall. I wouldn’t put it past you.

Maybe he had a point.

“Bye, Ms. Sugar!” a girl called from behind them, dark hair pulled away from her freckled face. “Ellie, you coming?” she waited, expectantly. Ellie turned towards Joel, whose face had shifted into a simil-scowl.

“So that’s what you meant, huh?” he crossed his arms, to which Ellie responded with a lopsided grin, looking at him expectantly, the mute question clear in her eyes. Can I? “Wait, Ms. Sugar?” he turned to look at the woman who still stood there, and she snorted.

“Ask Ellie about it,” she retorted, clearly amused by the guilty look creeping across the girl’s face. “She’ll be right there, Dina!” she called out then, a little louder.

“I didn’t mean to, okay?” Ellie protested, with a small kick to the melting snow in front of her. “You call her that all the time–it just came out of my mouth,” she argued then, pointing at Joel.

“Are you blaming me for calling your teacher with a nickname?” he returned, baffled.

“Yes,” Ellie nodded. Behind Ellie, he saw her stifle a giggle, quick to lower her head and cover her mouth with a hand. The girl looked up at him still, eyes softening in a pleading motion. “Can I go?”

“Sure,” he sighed–the word was barely out of his mouth before Ellie was already darting away, running towards her smiling friend. “I’m sorry,” he said then, turning to her.

“It’s alright, Joel,” clearly amused, she shook her head and took a step closer to him, hands dropped at her sides. “Besides, I think only Dina heard her. Maybe Cat, too, but it’s no big deal,” she shrugged, standing right in front of him now. Joel tightened his grip around Ellie’s bag strap, lowering his gaze to her.

“She good?” he asked, a little quieter. “This Dina, she–”

“Yes, she’s a good kid,” she said with a smile and a small nod, tilting her head slightly. “You can rest easy, Mr. Miller,” at that, Joel snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Mr. Miller,” he mocked, to which her smile widened. “Haven’t been called that since I had to meet with Sarah’s teachers,” as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his expression fell slightly, gaze unfocused. He thought he was about to stop breathing again, when she placed her hand on his upper arm, pressing gently against the jacket sleeve.

“Joel,” with a whisper of his name, he snapped his eyes back up towards her–a worried crease crossed her forehead, knitting her brows closer. “What is it?”

She knew what it was. She’d seen it, in people younger and older than him; she’d felt it on her own skin, clawing at her throat in a desperate attempt to clear her airways. Hers had never been as immobile as Joel’s. She kicked and screamed and cried until she was spent and aching all over.

“Just–” he clicked his tongue and thought of lying.

He still felt unsure, unsteady, both wanting to keep her at arm’s length and welcoming her back in his life like before, drown in the comfort he’d found in her presence year after year since they were kids. She’d tried to reassure him, and he knew she was right–you could not live in the world they did and not change. But he remembered her in pigtails on the first day of school, he remembered her prom dress being awfully 80s, and he remembered the first time he’d seen her with Sarah–gentle voiced and wide eyed, holding her as if she might shatter should she breathe a little too hard.

“It’s like starting all over again with her–not sure if I’m doing right or wrong whenever I make a decision,” he admitted then, voice low–she got closer, gaze softening. He wanted to lean into her all of a sudden, but clenched his fists instead, the strap of Ellie’s bag digging in his palm. “I can’t disappoint her, can’t–I can’t fail her, too.”

“You didn’t fail anyone, Joel,” he almost disagreed, but the look she gave him didn’t leave room for any argument. He snapped his mouth shut. “It’s odd, adjusting to this place–I didn’t sleep properly for a year, flinched at every noise. When Maria asked me if I wanted to teach I thought she’d lost her mind,” she scoffed, shaking her head lightly. “And then I had my first full night of sleep. The kids and parents started waving at me in the streets. I ate food that hadn't expired 10 years ago. It’s–give yourself some time to adjust, Miller. Both of you.”

Joel exhaled, tipping his head slightly back and looking up towards the sky–it was sunny, mercifully, the cold starting to become bearable. He felt her shuffle forward rather than see her, eyelids fluttering when she rested her hand over his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Ellie’s doing good,” she reassured then, smiling when he looked back at her. “She’s–a little wild, maybe, but she feels safe here. With you. She’ll be alright,” head tilted slightly to the side, the scarf wrapped around her neck slipped–he almost reached up to fix it for her. “So will you.”

“You always knew what to say, didn’t you?” he sighed, turning his head a little–he felt her hand move from his shoulder to his upper arm, warmth spreading wherever her touch lingered. He leaned into it.

“Not really, most of the time I winged it,” she shrugged, and his smile returned, although tentative, while shaking his head. “How’d you think I made it through college?”

“Brains, Sugar,” without thinking too much about it, he reached up and pinched her chin, gently tilting her head back a little. “You’ve always had more brains than us combined. I think we both should’ve listened to you more.”

“Took you long enough to admit that,” she grinned, following the curve of his arm down to where his hand still brushed her face. She brushed her fingertips along the back of his hand, lingering at his knuckles. “It hurt to say it out loud, didn’t it?” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, actually. I’m quite alright,” her eyebrows arched, wrapping her fingers around his hand for balance before reaching for his forehead with her other one. Joel laughed then, taking one small step back to balance them both, eyes crinkling at the touch. “What are you doing?”

“Checking if you have a fever,” she replied, nonchalantly, shifting her hand over his temple, over his cheek. “God forbid this affects you physically,” she added in a mock whisper, unable to hide the amusement in her words. Still laughing, Joel let go of Ellie’s bag to reach up and grab her other hand.

“Alright, alright,” he pulled his head slightly back, holding their joined hands between them–she’d tipped forward, unbalanced, and he held her upright, looking back down towards her grinning face. “You’ve made your point. Thank you.”

“Good,” she chuckled. They remained like that a moment longer, simply looking at each other, before she cleared her throat and glanced quickly over her shoulder. “I should go. Gotta fix up the classroom or else Hell might just break loose tomorrow.”

“Right,” he let go of her, his palms tingling still. “Well, I–thank you, Sugar. I mean it.”

“I know you do,” expression softened again, she stepped back–they had barely realized how close they were. Joel missed it right away. “I’ll see ya, Miller.”

“Sure,” he murmured in return, one of the hands he’d kept lifted doing a half-wave as she turned around. He kept it up, gaze lingering on her back until she’d vanished back into the building.

“Damn,” he whipped around with his eyes wide, gaze immediately falling to Ellie at his side.

“What are you doing here?” he muttered, a quick look over his shoulder and then past Ellie’s head. “Language,” he added right away, making her snort.

“Didn’t know you could laugh,” she retorted, her eyebrows arched.

“That's bullshit, you’ve heard me before,” he frowned, and Ellie’s grin widened.

“Language,” she mocked him, making Joel scowl. “Sure I did, but it wasn’t like this.”

“Like what?” still frowning, he watched her shrug and point vaguely at him.

“This,” she repeated, then shrugged and grabbed her bag from the ground in front of him. “Anyways, I came back to get this. Bye.”

“Ellie!” he protested, though she was already skipping away. “Like what?”

Winter passed, and the first glimpses of Spring came to Jackson in the shape of flowers and fruit, an unfrozen ground giving them the first rewards. Ellie would spend more days outside with her friends, but every now and then she’d hang back with him, sitting on the porch while he tried to teach her how to play guitar.

“Now try the next one,” he nodded, after a while she’d been repeating the same three notes, a small melody she’d been practicing.

“I can’t do the next one,” she protested, keeping at it. Joel began to argue, but a movement at the corner of his eye made him turn around–with his good ear towards Ellie, he didn’t hear the woman’s steps until she was in his peripheral vision. He followed her with his gaze, head turning as she went–her hands were occupied by a large box, and when she noticed them she just smiled, but didn’t stop. “No, Ellie, don’t say that. You’re doing great. You can do it.”

“What?” he cleared his throat, snapping his head back around towards the kid. She was scowling, arms crossed over the guitar as he stared at him. “You are doing good. Go to the next one,” at that she rolled her eyes, lips parting with a scoff. “What?” he repeated.

“Will you quit being a stubborn ass?” Ellie groaned, lowering the guitar and leaning back into the seat. Joel’s eyebrows arched high, disbelief painted across his face.

“Watch your mouth, kid,” she scoffed again, tapping across the wood.

“Yeah, yeah,” she practically brushed him off. “But will you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel mimicked her, leaning back against the backrest and crossing his arms, his head twisting ever so slightly towards where he was looking before, towards her. A groan escaped her.

“Oh, please, you know perfectly well,” Joel frowned now, watching as Ellie pointed her finger in the woman’s direction–she was too far to see them, or hear them, but still Joel tapped against her extended hand. “You like her,” the girl said, bringing her hand back towards her chest. It was Joel’s turn to scoff.

“Yeah, I like her–we’ve been friends since we were kids,” he shrugged, then folded his arms across his chest once more. Ellie rolled her eyes again.

“No, I mean you like like her. Like you’re in love with her,” Joel snorted, shaking his head.

“What would you know about that?” despite the levity in Ellie’s tone, her face darkened for a moment–it had been a while since he’d seen that look in her eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through him right away. He shifted in his seat.

“I have eyes,” Ellie muttered, placing the guitar down to curl up in the chair, legs up to her chest and arms crossed. “Pretty sure the whole of Jackson knows. It’s obvious.”

“Ellie, we’ve known each other ages,” Joel sighed, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “If I had a problem I’d go to her, and if she had a problem she’d come to me. We’ve been there for each other during–” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze, “most of the worst times of our lives.”

“And you’ve never–” she trailed off.

“No,” he shook his head with a light smile.

“Not even once?” again he shook his head. “Seriously?”

“Tommy had a crush on her,” he shrugged, and she straightened her back.

“So you thought about it, then,” she exclaimed. Joel dropped his head slightly with a sigh.

“I was a teenager once, you know,” she arched her brows. “She was nice, and she was my friend, and she was real pretty–but there are things that are more important than a crush.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment, leaning back down, her fingers tapping up and down her shins as she lowered her gaze, eyebrows pinched together.

“Did–did Sarah like her?” it had started to be easier, talking about her. While Joel still felt the hurt of her absence, the anger and disbelief of his grief had turned into quiet acceptance. Ellie would rarely ask questions about her, but he found it helped.

“She loved her,” he nodded, easing back into the chair. “There weren’t a lot of women in Sarah’s life, but she was there, especially when she needed it the most. And she did love Sarah back–so much,” a fond smile caught on his mouth.

“Yeah, I figured,” Ellie mumbled, tilting her head a little. “It’s her, isn’t it? In the picture with the cracked frame at her place.”

Joel had tried to not linger too much on that picture–Sarah was young in it, 3 or 4 maybe, a full head of curls sticking out on every side. He remembered fighting each day to try and fix it, and her laughing at his feeble attempts. She taught him first–simple hairstyles he could do in the mornings before dropping her off to school and that would survive the day ahead–and then Sarah herself for when she did not want to leave it as it was.

She’d been there for him and Sarah all the time, and he wasn't sure he’d thanked her nearly enough for it. When her mom left, when she started teething, walking, talking, on her first day of school, and every year after that, leaving campus to be at each game, each recital. Clothes, music, movies, all of it–she was always there.

“Yes,” he nodded, slowly. Ellie hummed.

“You should fix that for her,” she said then, standing almost abruptly. “Might be nice. It might also give you an excuse,” she added with a shrug.

“I don’t need an excuse, Ellie,” he sighed, picking the guitar from her. The girl shrugged again, then headed inside. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Cat’s!” she called from inside. Joel strummed a few slow notes, waiting for her to come back out–she did so rushing, jacket half-thrown on. “I still think I’m right. Bye!”

She glanced up from her handiwork when a step echoed a little louder over the gravel, her face immediately splitting in a wide smile and Joel’s half-still stance in the low streetlight.

“Knitting on the porch? That’s new,” he grinned, resuming walking towards her.

“If my mother could see me now, right?” she retorted with a chuckle he matched with a smile of his own, leaving the half-finished sweater aside to stand up. “Hi,” she said then, moving forward to the steps he was climbing.

“Hi,” he returned, stopping one step down so they were at the same level. He brought his hands forward from behind his back, the previously cracked frame and picture within, his gaze lingering on Sarah’s smile a moment longer. “Fixed it for ya.”

“Oh,” she looked over her shoulder, towards the slightly ajar door as if to look at the spot it had been resting. “You didn’t–thank you,” she said, carefully picking it from him.

“Sure,” he shrugged lightly, burying his now empty hands in his pockets. “Thought I’d just stop by,” he added, shuffling slightly. Her smile widened.

“You know you don’t need an excuse to just stop by, right?” she turned around, gesturing at him to follow as she headed inside, lingering at the entrance to place the picture right back where it belonged.

“I know,” he mumbled, lingering at the threshold. One of his guitars was in the living room, resting against the armchair Ellie had curled up in and ended up falling asleep on during the first time they’d gone over. The last time, he’d forgotten the instrument, after Tommy had insisted vehemently he should’ve brought it with him.

“I meant to bring that over,” she said, catching him looking at it. “I saw you teaching Ellie,” she added, pinching one string as she passed by it before heading to the kitchen.

“Yeah, tryin’ to,” Joel followed, fingertips tingling stuffed in his pockets. “She’s good.”

“Better than I was?” she returned with two glasses filled with amber liquid and a grin on her face. “Sweet tea–I got some of the first lemons.”

“Baking, making sweet tea, knitting,” he picked the cool glass from her with a grateful look–the simple act of holding it gave him back another piece of home he thought was gone forever. It had happened quite a few times since they’d found each other again. “You’re turning into your mother, Sugar.”

The woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she stepped away, and Joel was quick to hide his smirk behind the rim of the glass.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment, Miller,” she squinted in his direction, mock-menacingly.

“C’mon, you know I loved your mother,” he argued before taking a sip–he hummed softly, eyes shutting on instinct. If he focused, he could hear the fire crackling and water bubbling over the stove as her mother made it, could taste the sugar and lemon or peaches she’d slip them in the meantime. He sighed. “I’ll tell you what–your talents clearly reside in this, not that,” he added, pointing towards the guitar. She laughed again.

“Well, I’d rather listen to the music than play it,” she declared, her chin tilted upwards, a grin mimicking his own. Then her eyes widened, a shimmer in them as she jolted on the spot, quickly resting the glass down on the table. “I’ve gotta show you something!”

A small frown knitted his brow as he licked the sweetness from his mouth and followed her with his gaze, hurried steps towards the bedroom that echoed in the quiet of the home. She was gone a few minutes, returning after a moment of rattling, a wide smile spread across her face. Joel’s eyes fell to the object in her hands–a portable CD player, not so different from the one she’d gifted Sarah in the 90s but they always ended up stealing once she was asleep.

“Audio is not the best, to be fair, but after so many years without music–” she stopped in front of him, offering one of the earphones to him while she put the other one in.

Still frowning lightly, Joel shuffled closer, the short cord forcing him forward. The drum arrived first, the sound slightly scratched, and with her smile widening she looked up at him. Like the beat beat beat of the tom-tom, he chuckled as she freed his hands, rocking from one side to the other following the rhythm.

“Where’d you get this?” he stumbled forward when she took one of his hands, tugging him closer–the other fell to her side to second her swinging–he couldn’t help returning her infectious smile as she shrugged lightly, her free hand reaching on his shoulder.

“Luck–I found it before getting here along with a couple of CDs,” she looked up at him, head slightly tilted. “This one reminded me of you,” she added, voice softer–for a moment, her smile faltered.

She’d never thought she’d see him again, keeping the record out of pure nostalgia for someone she hadn’t seen in years. Someone she always feared was gone. They’d listened to Ella Fitzgerald constantly during their teenage years, Joel sneaking some of his parents’ records to her house, or locking themselves into listening booths for hours until they were kicked out. Dancing as they were in that moment.

“Only you beneath the moon and under the sun,” she hummed, their movements slowing with the song. “Whether near to me or fat, it’s no matter darling where you are–”

“I think of you night and day, day and night, why is it so?” he joined in, voice low, head bending slightly towards her–her smile returned, a shimmer in her eyes.

“Your voice’s changed,” she murmured, taking half a step closer. “S’warmer. I like it.”

“Thought you always liked my voice,” he smiled, tucking his chin to look down at her. She nodded with a low chuckle, locking their already joined hands together by intertwining their fingers.

“’Course I did,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes mockingly. She gave a squeeze to his hand then, lowering her head slightly. “I missed it–this,” she inhaled sharply then, a shallow sound that temporarily overwhelmed the music. “You,” she added, almost in a whisper that would’ve been lost to him had he not been looking at her mouth.

Joel’s heart stuttered, a soft sigh at her admission as his eyes fluttered shut, just a moment. Tongue-tied, he shifted closer, as close as he could get, the hand on her waist moving to the small of her back, wrapping his arm around her. He didn’t know how to tell her, how to let his mouth form the words that clouded his head–that had been since he’d seen her again. He couldn’t say it, not for lack of trying.

“Sugar,” he whispered, and she nodded, leaning forward and cutting him off.

The song went on, and she rested her head on his chest–the hand on his shoulder was soft, arm almost draped across it as she toyed absentmindedly with the collar of his shirt, brushing the nape of his neck every now and then. Their joined ones fell to his chest, arms bent, the warmth of her exhales brushing across their knuckles. He bent his head slightly, cheek barely brushing the top of her head, and he tightened his arm around her waist to keep her close–each song closer, until the music stopped.

They stayed like that a moment longer, even in silence, his heart beating the only sound she could hear, silence on his end with his good ear plugged by the earphone. She rubbed her thumb against the side of his hand, small movements that made his eyelids droop. He caught a glimpse of the top of her head like that, the curve of her nose, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks and the small pout on her relaxed mouth, all half-hidden against him. She looked–

“Ah, fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself, and she blinked rapidly before looking up, wide-eyed. She tilted her head, gently pulling his earphone off.

“What is it?” she cleared her throat, taking a small step back. The hold on his hand began loosening, so he forced himself to ease his arm around her waist, too, shaking his head.

“Nothin’, just–something Ellie said, it’s not important,” he let go of her when her brows knit, a hint of perplexity in her gaze. “I should go, actually. Check she’s actually gone to sleep.”

“Of course,” she returned quickly, stepping even further back, hands falling to her sides and rubbing down slowly, palms dragging along the seams of her jeans. “Thank you. For the frame–and passing by.”

His right hand twitched slightly at his side, and he took a small step back, nodding at her words. He stopped then, moving forward once more–he pushed past the knot in his throat and the tingling in his limbs and his heart dropping, and reached for her face. She leaned into his touch, his hands cupping over her cheeks as he shifted closer once more, brushing a delicate kiss to her forehead, her lips curled into the beginning of a smile. He held her gently, the touch of his lips lingering a moment longer over her skin before he moved away.

“See ya, Sugar.”

Summer was relentless. With days spent seeking shadows and some reprieve from the heat, the nights were unbearable in their stillness. Joel couldn’t sleep–after 20 years in Boston, he wasn’t used to the Southern heat anymore.

And he would be lying to himself if he thought that was the only reason why.

He kept replaying the conversation with Tommy in his head, over and over. He was haunted by it, sitting on the porch in the quiet of Jackson’s night.

“Ellie’s right, it is getting painful to watch.”

“The hell are you talking with Ellie about?”

“You and Sugar. It’s worse than when we were young, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Means this time I can’t pretend to ask her out so that you finally get your head out of your ass and admit you like her. You gotta wake up, Joel.”

He was awake. Truth was, Joel had felt like he had been living in a nightmare for the past 20 years–and now he was awake and didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to be himself anymore. Or how to be a person.

Perhaps that was why he was knocking on her door while everyone else was asleep. Perhaps he was just too much in his head about it. Perhaps–

“Joel?” his eyes fell down across her, flimsy night clothes clinging to her for a split second before he forced his gaze up, breath stuttering slightly. “It’s the middle of the night, what happened?”

“Sorry–shit,” he looked away, past his shoulder, back at her–was his heart beating faster? Were his hands shaking? He felt like it. “You’re right. Sorry, I’ll just–it can wait,” he stepped back, shaking his head.

“It clearly can’t, since you knocked at my door like a maniac,” she said it with a little grin, and some tension left his shoulders at the sight of it, of her stepping back and opening the door further for him. “C’mon, get inside.”

Joel walked past her and his steps faltered, tilting his head in her direction with a sharp inhale before moving along, fists opening and closing down his sides. He’d gotten better at that–not letting it all overwhelm him. Understand when the world might begin tipping under his feet and stabilize himself. He was trying–for Ellie, for his brother, for her, he was really trying.

“What happened?” she asked softly. They stood in the living room as they had before, as they had when they’d danced, except they were each on one end of the couch, a gaping emptiness between the two of them. “Should I start to get worried? You look like–”

“I like you,” he blurted out, recoiling at the shift in his own voice–so much louder than her careful tone. She blinked rapidly, head slightly tilted.

“I should hope so,” she scoffed, the reassuring smile she had before turning into a downright amused one. But Joel was shaking his head already, hands still restless. “Joel–”

“No, I mean–I like like you,” she blinked again, lips parting slightly and making her smile begin to dwindle. “Like I think I might be in love with you,” he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply–of course Ellie’s voice would echo in his head right then. Making an absolute fool out of him. “And I think I’ve always been and just didn’t know, or maybe I did know and I just didn’t want to fuck up this too, because I always fucked up everything, every relationship I ever had but ours, and the thought of losing you was terrifying–is terrifying,” he gasped a little between words, each one falling out of his mouth and out of his control. “Or maybe I wasn’t, you know? Maybe–maybe I just–”

“Joey,” she called him softly–so soft he almost didn’t hear her, and reacted first to her hand resting over his chest. His eyes flew open, gaze unfocused for a moment running across her face before they locked with hers, familiar and gentle. She pressed her palm against his chest, and he knew for sure his heart was stuttering underneath her touch. “Take a breath.”

He gasped again, shoulders dropping forward as if wrapping himself around her hand with a long exhale. Blindly, he reached for her, fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“Another,” she instructed, taking his other hand gingerly, and he did. Inhale, exhale, stumbling forward. “It’s just me, Joey.”

“You’re the only one who’s ever called me that, y’know?” he whispered, breathlessly. She gave him a little smile, tapping two fingers on his chest. Slowly, his heartbeat matched her rhythm, and he squeezed her wrist once, gently.

“Wanna try that again?” she murmured, tilting her head a little to the side.

“You can kick me out,” he retorted in a mumble, and she sighed. She shifted the hand she was holding, thumb pressing into his wrist, right above his pulse, right above the strap of his watch, while the rest of her fingers spread across the back of his hand.

“And why would I do that?” Joel met her gaze again–awaiting, reassuring, familiar gaze.

“You’ve known me all our lives, Sugar,” she nodded at his heavy sigh. “You’ve seen me fuck everything up, multiple times–Christ, you’ve seen me fuck things up with Sarah’s mother, too,” again she nodded, and he lowered his voice, breath stuttering. “Yet you were always there for me.”

“Of course I was,” with the last nod, she smiled–it was bittersweet, made his heart ache.

“I loved you for that. More than I knew could be possible,” he bowed his head, the tip of his nose brushing hers tentatively. “And I love–I love–I love you still.”

Her exhale was long, fingers curling over his chest and twisting in the fabric of his shirt–he stumbled forward ever so slightly, the hand he had around her wrist falling against her side balancing himself as she brought her lips close to his. Close, without touching, his breath stuttering when her exhale hit his skin.

“You’ve been the best half of my life, Joel,” there was a scratch in her voice that wasn’t there before, words trembling ever so slightly. “You–I’ve always known I loved you. I knew I loved you, I just–I don’t think I ever realized how much until I lost you. Or found you again.”

“Sugar–” she shook her head, humming.

“Not done,” she chided, and he snapped his mouth shut, almost chuckling. “You were my best friend. I’d like to think you still are, even after these awful fucking years because I–I’ve always needed you, Joel,” the hand on his chest shifted upwards slightly, resting at his collarbones. “And I still do. I need you in my life–I need you.”

“You do have me, sweetheart,” he said, hurriedly, pulling back ever so slightly. Her eyes were shimmering, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her close–her hand slid to the side of his neck, lips quivering slightly. He was looking at her lips. “However you want me, you have me.”

“I do love you, even now,” her thumb traced figures eight over his neck with one hand, small circles on his wrist with the other. Soothing. Gentle. Calming. “Whoever it is you think you’ve become now–I love you. I need you to understand that.”

Joel’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened. Closed again, a thin line cutting through his face. She was looking at him as if she could see right through him, pick up the pieces of his hesitation during the months just gone by, and the years before that. Reading him as she’d always done, and speaking directly to his foolish heart, reassuring him–you’ll get through the year, you’ll get through the grief, you’ll be alright, Sarah’ll be alright, we’ll be alright, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“I know,” he hummed, tightening his hold around her. Her body softened into his with a long exhale, the hand rising to his jaw, scratching along his patchy beard. “I’m trying, sweetheart.”

“I know you are,” she cupped his cheek, and in spite of the heat he didn’t mind the warmth radiating from her palm. His eyes fluttered shut. “C’mere.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, his head falling forward against the curve of her neck. He leaned fully into the circle of her arms, reaching out with his other free hand too to keep her close, her back slightly arched towards him, locked together like pieces of a puzzle. Freshly cut grass welcoming him home, he dug his fingertips into her sides and brushed his mouth to her neck–a half kiss, hesitant and tentative. If he got a full taste, he knew he’d want nothing else for as long as he lived.

That was a lie. He already didn’t, couldn’t fathom it.

Slowly, she tipped her head to the side, granting him more space–he could feel her heartbeat quickening under his parted lips, a hiccup in her breath as she dragged her hands up the nape of his neck, fingertips slowly brushing through the locks at the back of his head, guiding him forward and up. He let her guide him, gave her full control as the tip of his nose traced a path up her jaw, cheek, his lips following.

“Are you teasin’, Sugar?” he whispered, rubbing their noses together, and felt her smile rather than saw it. She shook her head, pressing herself impossibly closer as she scratched his scalp gently. “Then I’m gonna need you to tell me what to do next.”

When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him already, so close she was slightly cross-eyed, long lashes kissing the arch of her brows. His own heart beat a little quicker, a little louder, anticipation building in his limbs as he could feel himself burn from within.

“Kiss me,” just a whisper.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

His heart would never be whole again, that much he knew–a part of it had stayed behind, pierced by a bullet, a 20 years old wound. But he could live again, day by day. He could find his way back to life, with his Ellie on one side and–

Joel caught her lips with his own, and it felt like homecoming. Sweet as sugar, he kissed her slow, without rush, as if trying to make up for each year spent apart, and for each year spent together in the wrong way. He held her as if she might shatter and like he would never let her go both, drank greedily each sigh, each whisper, never once parting until his lungs burned, and then kissing her gasps away, too.

#redahlia #be still my foolish heart #pedrostories #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

212 notes · View notes

rottingmanifesto · 1 year

Text

Diesel Pyun

Overview

Diesel is based off of an alleged beta character, a Korean-American soldier who was friends with Lincoln (assuming this was prior to the development of John Donovan). So, I took the idea and ran with it, and made him my own character!

Basic

Name: “Diesel” Pyun

Nickname(s): ‘Petrol’ (by girlfriend’s friend group), ‘D-Day’ (by old military buddies)

Age/Birthday: 24 years | 02/04/1944 (10:29 pm)

Place of Birth: Ulsan, (South) Korea

Zodiac: Aquarius sun, Gemini moon, Libra rising

Current Residence: Somewhere near New Bordeaux, LA

Gender: Male..?, He/him

Orientation: Closeted bisexual

Nationality: 1st generation American

Ethnicity: Korean and Japanese

Race: Asian

Affiliations: US Marines Corp., Department of Defense, Clay crime family (loosely)

Education: high school

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Dark brown

Height: 5’11”

Body type: Meso-ectomorph, more on the lean side

Scars/marks/blemishes/etc.: various scars along chest, gut, and forearms, and a few marks on shoulders

Personality

Diesel is primarily known for his strategies, his far-stretched plans and idealism, and kind but emotionally distant mannerisms. He’s witty and has a very dry sense of humor, and finds a lot of joy in discussing the future (in terms of art, technology, music, etc.) and how he predicts things will happen. (He’s not always right, to be fair, but usually he’s in the ballpark). People who truly know him know how music helps him release emotions he cannot express with words.

MBTI & Enneagram: INxJ, 1w9

Other comments: painfully air sign. Just… painfully noticeable.

Relationships

Lincoln: war time friend, kept meeting each other in Laos and Vietnam to the point of it becoming a joke of sorts. Sees him as a younger brother sometimes, and can get annoyed by Linc’s impulsivity and emotional intensity. Acts as an emotional anchor for him and helps lighten the mood with dry humor. Also helps with Lincoln’s revenge against the Marcanos.

John: definitely a tense relationship. They respect one another, but Diesel really doesn’t care for him and thinks he’s a bit “full of it”, so to speak. They clash on many things and Diesel ultimately thinks that though Donovan is trying to be a good person, he’s failing pretty badly (in his opinion).

FJ: no strong convictions, really. Good guy, but fails to see who’s in front of him— only sees the morals or signs of a long-gone past. Kind heart, but can be a coward. Doesn’t share this opinion much at all though.

The underbosses: generally not super opinionated, but believes they’re mostly greedy, short-sighted assholes.

Dasia: respects her choices and convictions, but ultimately finds her to be too wrapped up in small details to notice the big picture. They get along alright, overall.

Canary: good kid, good sense of the future, just maybe a tad bit too passionate at times. Views them as a younger sibling of sorts and disapproves of them being involved (due to 1: being a civilian, and 2: being nineteen).

Childhood

[Data expunged.]

Story

Within the storyline in-game, Diesel enters roughly after Lincoln regains consciousness (it’s John of all people who actually calls him, but that’s a story in of itself). Despite his own mild qualms with how Lincoln is going about things, he offers his services and helps in any way he can— explanation below.

Explanation: Diesel can say “adding him to the racket would prove beneficial in (x) department” or “just kill the bastard” type stuff and/or deal with timing— primarily with Santangelo thing after killing 2 of the capos. Being able to call in and say “hey, something seems off about this part of town, Donovan heard some people chatting on the wire about a meet up. If you got business, get out of there in 2 minutes” or something of the sort.

Within a DLC I’m writing, he helps Lincoln with a not-so-minor situation (keeping that a secret for now) when John is busy with his own project.

Random

Not really a smoker. He’ll do it when someone offers him one, but doesn’t smoke much himself. He does, however, have a collection of zippos

Spoke Korean (and Japanese on rare occasion) at home and English at school/in public, still slips into Korean when he thinks he’s alone

Can swing dance, but that’s about it with dancing. He is far better with creating music

Plays violin, fiddle, piano, a bit of cello, VERY basic trumpet, and the harmonica. Is trying to learn the guitar and bass

Composes music in his spare time

Adores all kinds of music and will listen to anything at least once

Agnostic

Surprisingly enough, he’s anti-war, but he’s not vocal about his stances for a myriad of reasons (mostly because it’s unsafe for him to do so)

#diesel pyun #oc tag

11 notes · View notes

whats-wild-to-you · 1 year

Text

Dr. Daredevil (Jay Park AU)

Chaeyeon

The first time Park Jaebeom and I met was in med school.

I knew exactly who he was, even though I pretended to not care about him. Every girl on campus wanted to date him and every guy wanted to be him.

As the chairman’s only grandson he was bound to inherit his family’s fortune one day. Of course he didn’t have to study or get good grades. Since birth, everything was handed to him on a silver platter.

I, on the other hand, needed to do well. Every day. My life depended on it.

“Have you heard? Park Jaebeom is throwing a party for his birthday.” My best friend, Soojung, casually said while joining me in the cafeteria.

“No. Why would I?”

It was a lie. I knew exactly that Jaebeom’s birthday was approaching.

“I also heard he’s handing out invitations.”

Soojung plopped down next to me, meticulously unwrapping her sandwich.

“Surely he’ll only invite the cool kids.” I countered soberly.

“For once I’d like you to have some confidence!” She said, looking straight at me. I could tell my comment hurt her, even though she knew herself that we weren’t part of the cool crowd. Ever.

“I’m sorry! I hope you get an invitation.”

“I hope we’ll both get one.” She countered back.

I side-eyed her and focused back on my book.

When my last class ended, I gathered my stuff and walked out with quick steps so I wouldn’t miss my bus.

“Chaeyeon, wait! I have something to ask you.” Someone called after me while I ran down the stairs. I didn’t need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to.

The people around me stopped and stared, waiting to see what would happen.

I wonder why Park Jaebeom needs to speak to the biggest nerd on the entire campus?

“My birthday’s this Saturday. Here! I brought you an invitation.”

I cocked my eyebrow at him, trying to figure out if there was a motive behind his weird behavior. Only too late did I noticed that the time had passed and my bus had left without me. Again.

“Great! Now I missed my bus!”

“I’ll drive you home!”

I wanted to decline, but would have to wait another hour for the next bus, so I begrudgingly agreed.

“How’s your paper coming along?”

My paper? Oh! At least now I know why he offered to take me home.

When I remained silent, Jaebeom cleared his throat before speaking again.

“The old man is giving me a hard time, saying I need to do better.”

“He’s not wrong, you know. After all, you’re studying to become a doctor.”

Once more I got the feeling it wasn’t his choice to go to med school. It seemed that he was pressured to go and didn’t really understand the severity of his situation. But I also knew that it didn’t really matter if he studied and did well or not. In the end he would graduate on top of his class. His grandfather would make sure of that.

“So? Are you coming to the party?”

“I don’t know.”

“You need to live a little!” He said when we stopped and locked eyes at a red light.

He sounded like my mother which made me chuckle.

“We’ll see!”

We remained silent until Jaebeom stopped in front of my apartment building where I was renting a tiny one-room apartment.

“The party starts at 7!”

I smiled faintly and nodded, silently thanking him for the ride.

Against my will I had put on a dress and high heels and makeup, feeling more uncomfortable than on my first day in college.

“Smile! You look like you’re in actual pain!” Soojung sneered next to me as we walked up the driveway of Jaebeom’s huge mansion.

“I am!” I blurted out, giving my friend the side eye. “Remember our agreement! No alcohol and we’re only staying for an hour.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mother.” She mocked back, rolling her eyes.

As soon as I entered, I wanted to turn around on the spot and leave. The music was too loud, people were already too drunk and I felt like I was suffocating. Random people were handing me questionable drinks in red solo cups which I firmly rejected.

I found an empty spot in a corner and stood there, leaning back against the wall, checking my watch every five minutes. Soojung had already disappeared in the masses, only her loud squeals could be heard and from time to time I would spot her small frame amidst the people, dancing.

The air in the room changed when Park Jaebeom joined the crowd. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on me. He grinned as he made his way to where I was plastered against the wall. A literal wallflower. Frantically, I looked for an escape route but I had successfully trapped myself.

“Nice to see you made it!”

I snorted, raising an eyebrow, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter. I have something to ask you.” He said, casually grabbing my arm, leading me through the crowd. My head whipped around constantly trying to see if anyone paid attention to us. But people were too preoccupied and too drunk to care.

On the staircase, leading up to the bedrooms, I put my heels down making Jaebeom stop abruptly.

“It’s quiet enough here. What do you have to say?”

Despite trying my best to sound cool and unaffected, Jaebeom realized he was having an effect on me. Smiling mischievously, he inched closer, casually leaning against the wall behind me, trapping me between it and his body.

“I heard you’re the smartest student in our class.”

“You heard right!” I replied cockily. “Why are you asking?”

“I’m sure you heard that there’s going to be a group project soon. I think we should be in a team, you and I.”

I snorted lightly. The chairman’s grandson was a sly fox. Of course he wouldn’t actually sit his ass down and study. I wondered if his grandfather knew about it.

“It seems like only you would benefit from such a deal.”

“That’s not true.” He said. “Your popularity would skyrocket.”

“I’m not sure I want that.” I replied again, still unwilling to look at him. The smell of his perfume was intoxicating, confusing my senses momentarily, clouding my judgment.

“Think about it, it could actually be fun. Oh, and if you still need an incentive, I would even be willing to pay.”

At that I raised my head. Did he just offer me money because he didn’t know how else to persuade me or was he actually aware of my financial situation?

My parents back home worked themselves to the bone, so her only daughter could study medicine in Seoul. Of course money was tight.

“I’ll think about it.” I eventually said, just to get him off my back. He was standing dangerously close to me, constantly licking his lips, his eyes piercing through mine.

Suddenly I felt incredibly hot and in a desperate attempt to escape his piercing glare, I slipped under his arm and sprinted outside. The fresh air was a welcoming change and I fished out my phone from my purse, calling Soojung with trembling hands.

“I wanna go!”

“But it hasn’t been an hour yet!” She yelled into her phone.

“Then I’m leaving by myself.” I had no intentions to stay and run into Jaebeom again. And the likelihood of that happening was big.

“Fine. Give me a minute. I’ll be out soon.”

I kept the fact that I worked with Jaebeom a secret. Especially since Soojung had become obsessed with him after being at his party. In the end it was just his name I would put next to mine when I submitted the paper. No big deal.

The two of us would meet after school at his house. There would be snacks and fruits on the table and classical music would play in the background.

At first I thought it was funny, thinking Jaebeom did all of that to impress me. But as I visited his house more often I realized that others were setting the mood. In the end I pitied him. Clearly he felt uncomfortable but had to play his part, whether he liked it or not.

“Urgh, my brain hurts! I need a break.” He announced dramatically, shutting the books in front of him.

I wanted to correct him by saying that the brain can’t feel pain but let him be. Instead I followed him upstairs because I felt uncomfortable being left alone in this huge mansion.

Too late I realized he was heading straight into his bedroom. And likewise, he only noticed I had been following him when he closed the door.

“I’m sorry, I-” I muttered but the words got stuck in my throat.

“It’s okay.”

Nervously, I checked the time on my phone, my brain working in overtime to come up with an excuse to leave.

“No, you’re right. We studied nonstop for hours. I think it’s enough for today. I better go now.”

Before I could get to the door, he sneaked off behind me, blocking the exit.

“Chaeyeon, the brain can’t feel pain. I thought you knew that! After all, you’re supposed to be the smart one in this room.”

I chuckled, realizing that I walked right into Jaebeom’s trap. He smiled before he peeled his back off the door, taking a step in my direction. Then another. And another.

“You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” The question took me by surprise, and for a second I debated on how to answer it wisely. But then I remembered who I was talking to.

“Did you ever have a boyfriend?” He asked again, this time in a high pitched tone.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m 23. Not a teen.”

“So, no then.”

I opened my mouth to say something but closed it again. I had no words, no good comeback. And Jaebeom knew that. Smirking, he took another step forward, our noses almost touching. That’s how close he was.

“Don’t be too startled.” He cautioned, before his head dipped down and his soft lips connected with mine.

The kiss was exhilarating. Every fiber of my body was activated by Jaebeom’s lips exploring mine. His hands casually rested on either side of my waist. I heard my quickened pulse in my ears. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Smelled his perfume as well as some fabric softener on him.

I was aware of every little detail, felt more alive than ever, yet at the same time it felt like a dream. Like somebody else had possessed my body.

Seconds felt like hours, and when he finally broke the kiss, Jaebeom looked at me intently. I didn’t move, didn’t flinch. He then smiled lightly and nodded.

“I think you’re right. We can work on the rest next time.”

Like a gentleman, he walked me out and even waited with me for my taxi to arrive.

That day I went home with mixed feelings. I didn’t want to be the stupid, gullible and easily impressed inexperienced girl but couldn’t help getting ideas in my head. The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed to keep this a secret. No one could find out about our kiss. Especially not Soojung.

My imaginary bubble would soon burst anyway. After the group project ended Jaebeom hardly ever talked or even looked at me. It was as if I never existed. I had expected such behavior, the only thing I regretted was wasting my first kiss on him.

-> next chapter

#jay park #more soju please #more vision #park jaybum #park jaebeom #park jaebum #khh fanfic #khh imagines #jay park aomg #aomg jay park #jay park fanfic #jay park imagines #jay park scenarios #aomg imagines #aomg scenarios #h1ghrmusic #h1ghrgang

5 notes · View notes

bmaxwell · 1 year

Text

My Soundtrack of Life 2 of 3

Alice in Chains - Would?

youtube

This isn’t tied to any specific moment, but this song is a perfect snapshot of my music of that time. I love this song and band. I was a depressed kid in high school (we all are, right?) and Alice in Chains really helped me through some dark times. If I were to make a list of my all-time favorite tunes, this one would be in the top 5.

Nirvana - The Man who Sold the World

youtube

I was a Nirvana fan, but never put them on a pedestal the way a lot of the music world did. Still, I remember the day that Kurt Cobain died. I remember driving home from the mall and hearing on the radio that a body had been found at Cobain’s house.

When I got home and turned on MTV, they had confirmed that it was Cobain’s body. They then played Nivana’s rendition of The Man Who Sold the World from their incredible MTV Unplugged set. That song against that news has stuck with me ever since.

Pearl Jam - Off He Goes

youtube

The transition from high school to adulthood was rough for me. My best friend throughout most of my life was going off to college at U of M, then to go work for Apple. I had no particular plans. A few months into his college life, he came back to visit. He was my same old friend in some ways, a totally different person in others.

This song made me bawl the first time I heard it, and always reminds me of that time in my life.

Mr Bungle - Violenza Domestica

youtube

All through junior high and high school, I was way into music. And that was always, always centered around drums and guitars. Mr Bungle’s Disco Volante is one of the pieces of work that broke me out of that rigid mindset.

I was enamored with Faith No More, and I learned that he was in another band called Mr Bungle. This was before YouTube and Napster, so there was no sampling to be had. I bought Disco Volante from the Harmony House and what the actual FUCK is this? This is not like Faith No More. At all. This is not...is this music? It has musical elements...

Again, I listened to a LOT of music. So I put it on in the background a lot and bits and pieces of it began to stand out to me. What hit the ear as chaos and randomness initially became deeply satisfying with continued listens. Disco Volante taught me that sometime art demands an investment of time and effort from the audience, and that can be incredibly rewarding.

Fiona Apple - Pale September

youtube

I stayed with my high school girlfriend for several years after graduation. We loved each other. We got engaged. It’s easy to look back and see that we stayed together for too long, we lost a couple of years just being polite to each other. Eventually she cheated on me, and I took my stuff and moved back in with my parents. For someone who felt anchorless and lost after school, this was devastating to me. I’m living with my parents, working a nametag job, with no plans for the future and no idea about anything and I am going to die terribly, terribly alone.

I also discovered Fiona Apple around this time, and Tidal is absolutely perfect music for wallowing in an introspective hell.

1 note · View note

in-ky · 3 years

Text

An Old Scent [2] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, angst, age gap, Negan, a bit of gore if you squint

A/N: ok so everything is written i'm just gonna stagger posting a little bit :') 2.7k words

The first thing I woke up to in the morning was a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Great. My heat was starting up again. Growing up, Bee always asked why I never went on suppressants. I always got a bad vibe from them. Then, a few years ago, a large brand got recalled because it was shown to cause cancer in a lot of different patients. Now suppressants were harder to come by, more regulated, and needed a doctor's prescription. A lot of omegas took the hit hard, but out of it came an influx of at-home ways to take care of your heats by yourself. Super helpful for a single girl like me. When my heats started to get really bad around my junior year of high school, Bee took me out on a shopping spree and got me a bunch of toys to try and satisfy myself. It worked for a while, but they got worse as the years passed. By my age, a lot of omegas were already claimed and had an alpha to help them through their heats. I was still relying on the toys Bee had bought me. The box was tucked neatly under my bed, waiting for me. I rolled over with a small groan and sighed. The heat wouldn't be in full swing for another few days or so, so I could still go to the courthouse with my dad. Speaking of, I heard Rick shuffling down the hall and slid out of bed, gathering my bathroom stuff and walking out of my room into the small tiled room to start the day.

~~~

"So you weren't at the garage on the night of the eight?" Negan hummed, leaning against the railing in front of the tv. His eyes were glued to the face of the man sitting on the stand. The poor guy was drenched in a nervous sweat, tight blue shirt sucking at his chubby neck. He swallowed thickly and leaned forward to the microphone.

"That's correct," he croaked.

"Oh, Jeremy," Negan chuckled, shaking his head and looking at his feet. "Don't you know perjury is a criminal offense?"

"I-I'm not lying!"

"Is that so?" The alpha held up the remote to the TV "I have some footage here that directly contradicts your story, man. One last chance." He wiggled the remote teasingly and raised his eyebrows. Jeremy held his ground. "Alrighty then, let's see what we have here." He took a step back and furrowed his brow at the remote and pressed a button. The screen in front of him came to life. I had to lean forward in order to see the video, but in reality it wasn't the security tape I was watching. It was him. I couldn't look away. He had dominated the room for the past hour and a half. His deep voice was never raised, but it still carried a commanding tone that had every person sitting on the stand shaking in their boots. My eyes trailed down his body. His suit clung to him in every perfect way. His hair was slicked back in its iconic style and the way his glasses perched on his face made my insides burn. Part of me regretted seeing him like this so close to my heat, but another part couldn't imagine if I hadn't. Rick leaned over and tapped my elbow.

"We've got him now for sure." He whispered in my ear. A smile formed on my lips as I nodded to him. There was a child-like joy on his face. He really did appreciate my presence. I turned my attention back to the video screen. The footage was fuzzy, but there was a clear figure of a woman standing still hunched over what I presumed was her phone. She was texting away, fingers flying over her screen. Suddenly a large figure, who had the same height and build as Jeremy, slunk out from the shadows. He slowly approached the woman from behind and raised a crowbar high above his head. He swung it down with brutal force. There were small gasps of horror from the jury and the crowd as the crowbar connected solidly with the woman's head. She collapsed in a heap, but Jeremy didn't stop beating her until she was a pile of mush. Negan clicked the TV off.

"Well, shit, Jeremy," He boomed "I do in fact think you are lyin' to me." He tossed the remote down on his table top and gave a grim scoff. "Everyone just saw you turn poor Miss Parker's head into your personal punching bag. You still wanna claim you were no where near there?" All of the color had drained from Jeremy's round face. He swallowed again, tugging at his restricting collar. But soon, his face turned a deep shade of pink and he slammed his beefy palms on the flat surface of the box he was sitting in.

"That bitch deserved it!" He howled, gasping for air. "She had no business-" He stopped when Negan raised his hand silently.

"I really don't care," He sighed, turning around and grinning broadly when he saw the defense team resting their heads in their hands in defeat. "I'll let the jury do the rest, your honor."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Smith." The judge said, voice prickling with annoyance. Negan returned to his bench and pulled out his seat. But before he sat down he gave Rick a small thumbs up. And I could have sworn that he flashed me a little smile as well.

~~~

"You were incredible in there!" I cheered, giving Negan a high five. The contact made my skin tingle, but I passed it off as the consequences of the impact. "You really made that guy tremble like a kid!"

"It's what I do," Negan chuckled deeply. He looked around me and furrowed his brow. "Where's your dad?"

"He's pulling the car around," I said "I just figured I should let you know how good you did before I leave." He was so close. He smelled so good. The same combination of whiskey and campfire that could get me drunk in a few breaths. I was so focused on his intoxicating musk that I didn't notice the group of alphas that were headed our way. Negan did, though. I heard a rumbling from his chest and felt a hand clasp around my shoulder. Confusion clouded my mind and I looked up to him for some answers.

"The next case is starting soon," He said smoothly "Let's go wait for your dad outside." I agreed and he steered me out onto the steps of the courthouse. The short skirt and heels I was wearing weren't exactly comfortable for walking down stairs, so I held onto Negan's forearm as he guided me down to street level. There was a small breeze and I saw his jaw tense as a soft gust of wind swirled up from behind me and into his body. It no doubt carried my scent on it, and an alpha like Negan could probably tell what state I was in.

"So," I sighed, looking to engage him further "What's next?"

"Well," He tilted his head and ran a hand over his bear-covered chin. "Jeremy goes to jail. Your dad and the department get praise. And I get to go to the bar for a celebratory drink." He paused for a moment, looking me up and down quickly. "You want to join me?" I opened my mouth to say something. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I was going to say. I didn't really drink, but I was willing to do absolutely anything that Negan wanted. But it was then that Rick rounded the corner and gave the horn a little honk.

"I would love to," I settled on "But dad has a full day of father-daughter fun times planned, and I don't really want to keep him waiting." I gestured awkwardly to where Rick was sitting in the car, bopping his head gently to incoherent music.

"Totally understand, doll." He grinned.

"Maybe another time, though?"

"For sure."

"See you around, Negan."

"Bye, doll, have fun. And be safe"

~~~

Negan was pleasantly buzzed, as per usual. He got off his motorcycle and hung his helmet on the handlebar before lightly stumbling into the house from the dark garage. The sight he saw he did not expect. There sat his fiancé in the living room, arms crossed over her chest with a pissed expression on her face. And beside her was a woman he knew all too well.

"The hell is goin' on here?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.

"I could ask you the same thing, Negan."

"Lucille, what the fuck is she doing in our house?"

"Oh, so you know her?" Lucille growled. Negan just licked his lips and flicked his gaze between the two women sitting in front of him. "Of course you do. You have been fucking her after all." Negan groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby, please-" He started, but Lucille cut him off.

"Don't you dare," She hissed, jumping to her feet and balling her hands into fists "You don't get to call me that after what you've done, Negan. You slept with another woman. Hell, maybe more than one. You ruined our relationship." Negan took a step forward but Lucille raised her hand and pointed to the kitchen table. "Don't take another step. Your stuff is in that box." Negan looked to see a cardboard box sitting alone in the dark kitchen, his belongings poking out of the top. "I never want to see you in my house again."

"Lucille, can't we just talk about this? You don't understand." He pleased, extending a hand to her. She batted it away.

"There's nothing to talk about." She spat "You cheated on me, Negan! What is there to understand? How can you expect me to forgive you for that?" A moment of silence passed between them. The other woman shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Negan glared at her before turning his eyes back to his now ex-fiancé.

"I have no where to stay." He whispered.

"That's not my problem." Lucille said boldly "Take your shit and leave. Don't come back. We're done."

~~~

I stirred the pot of spaghetti while humming a song I heard on a radio earlier. The father-daughter activities had consisted of driving around town and revisiting old spots we used to go to when I was younger. We got ice cream at the shop down the street and then watched the sun set at the park that we used to picnic at. It was nice. College did really fix our relationship. The TV in the next room hummed quietly and Rick was talking on the phone with someone. I heard him hang up and walk into the kitchen.

"Think there's enough in there for three?" He asks with a sigh, looking over my shoulder.

"Should be, why?" I return, meeting his gaze. He takes a deep breath and scratches his neck.

"Um, well, Negan's fiancé kicked him out of the house. Apparently she found out he was cheating on her. He doesn't have anywhere to stay." He mumbled "He's gonna be sleeping here for a bit." I stopped stirring. The water started to bubble too close to the top, but I blew a gust of air to push it down.

"Why here?" was all I could muster.

"He really helped me with your mom. It's the least I can do."

I just hummed in acknowledgement and returned to my cooking. So Negan was engaged. And he CHEATED on his fiancé? Maybe I didn't know Negan as well as I thought I did...

~~~

"I just can't believe she kicked me out!" Negan seethed, shoveling a spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth. He was still chewing when he continued. "She didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!"

"I hate to say it, but you did cheat on her, buddy," Rick said carefully, not wanting to poke the angry alpha in the wrong way "She's upset."

"I was in a rut." Negan growled.

"For four months?"

I was making a plate for myself, listening to the conversation from across the room. Rick's phone buzzed on the kitchen table and he picked it up.

"Sorry, I have to take this." He sighed, shaking his head and standing to his feet. He left the room and suddenly it was just me and Negan. I took my plate to the opposite head of the table, watching Negan wolf down his dinner.

"This shit is really good, sweetheart," He groaned. Normally, the noise would have sent me over the moon. But there were so many other emotions clouding my mind. "You ever consider changing your major to culinary arts?" I didn't say anything, just twirled my fork in my serving of pasta.

"Why'd you do it?" I said quietly, almost in a whisper. Negan paused instantly.

"What?"

"Why'd you cheat on her?" My eyes never left my plate but I could hear him shifting in his seat, rubbing his face while trying to answer my question.

"I don't know," He said. His voice was soft, sincere. Something I had never heard from him before. My eyes drifted up and met his. They were the same tawny color, but there was something else behind them. Something I couldn't distinguish. "I thought...Something was off in our relationship. I guess I thought that I could fix it by trying something different. I ran into Tanya at a bar a few months ago. She's a beta, just like Lucille. Wanted to be with an alpha. I gave in. Just for a quick fuck, didn't mean anything. I didn't like her. I told her that but...she...she wanted more, I guess. She fucking threatened me. Threatened to ruin my life unless I kept seeing her. I chose to do it. I don't know if that decision was the right one or not but it's the one I made. I texted her last night to tell her it was over. Never fucking thought she would come to my home." I was chewing the inside of my cheek the whole time he was speaking. I didn't know how much of his story was true, but he sounded like he was hurting.

"Why did you break it off?" I whispered.

"That's your damn question?" He scoffed, giving a short smile. He looked in my eyes. I knew the answer. Or at least I thought I did. He opened his mouth, but Rick reentered the room before he could say anything.

"Alright, sorry about that guys," He said, slipping back into his seat. "What did I miss?"

~~~

Negan was set up in the bedroom next door to mine. Our doors faced each other from across the hall. We would have to share a bathroom. Rick didn't seem to have a problem with it, but with my heat starting I wasn't too sure about the whole arrangement. I felt more cramps riddle my body. I was ready to bed, ready to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but something called me across the hall. Curiosity got me and I turned slightly, walking up and leaning on the doorframe. There was Negan, clad in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, unpacking his things.

"Hey," I said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He turned around. He looked older like this, hair unkempt and his glasses on. When he saw me his lips curled in a smile. Any trace of vulnerability I had seen earlier was now gone.

"Hey to you."

"I just want to apologize for earlier," I said "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm also sorry that you have to be subjected to me and my dad for the foreseeable future." He let out a snicker and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, doll. And you're not that bad. I appreciate Rick; he's a good man." He scratched his beard and looked over at the clock next to the bed. "It's late, you should get some rest." He took a deep breath and I nodded. I turned to leave but he called my name softly. "You know I meant what I said last night, you are looking good." I smiled but didn't say anything and crossed the hall, shutting my door and hopping into bed.

#negan x y/n #negan x you #negan x reader #negan smith #alpha!negan #omega!reader #twd a/b/o #a/b/o kink #a/b/o dynamics

122 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content.

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses.

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.”

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.”

216 notes · View notes

mystic-sky · 3 years

Text

A/N: In honor of reaching 400 followers, I decided to make this into a short series. I don’t know how many parts it’ll be. Thank you guys for reading my stuff and showing me love 🥺💕 you’re all so sweet 😭😭😭😭😭 I would also like to thank @teoran for the precious idea that allowed this story to come to be ❤️❤️

✨Part 2 here✨ | ✨Part 3/4 on ao3 only✨

“So, you’ve never actually been here before?” Suguru let out an annoyed sigh as his best friend draped his arm over his shoulders.

“No, but I heard this is one of the nicer ones.” Satoru says. “Besides, none of them are hard to look at.”

“I would’ve been content going out to dinner with everyone else-

“Lighten up! You do that all the time. You’re single so why not spoil yourself a little?” The white haired male insisted.

“Stuff like this feels degrading, and some of them are topless.” Suguru really hasn’t been to a strip club before. He wasn’t a prude, but surely his respect for women had him steer clear of places like this.

“Yeah— strippers do that sometimes.” Satoru laughed, taking hold of his drink.

“And it’s not degrading- they’re hard working women. Stop talking like an old man and enjoy the show.” He added, respectfully. Suguru took a sip of his drink, watching a new dancer approach the platform. A sweet, caramel skinned girl had taken the stage, swaying around the pole in front of them.

“This is Tasty.” Someone over the loud speaker introduced her. “We recommend Tasty for new comers. She’s a bubbly, friendly dancer who feels like the girl next door. Tasty is currently ranked 3rd in our private dancer line up for this week.

“Look at her,” Satoru said, pulling his lip between his teeth. “That’s Tasty. I heard so many good things about her. She’s so much more petite and cuter in person.”

Suguru only nonchalantly took another drink, but he was definitely looking. The tan skinned girl wrapped her body around the pole, delicately twisting herself right in front of the both of them. After shaking her ass for a bit, she moved down the stage, dancing for other customers.

“I’ve got so much cash on me, Suguru-chan~! We’re gonna have so much fun.” He nudges his barely flustered friend.

“And try not to look so serious, before you scare the ladies away.” He rolled his eyes underneath his dark sunglasses.

“You think I’m scary looking?” Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah but in a sexy way.” Satoru leant forward, almost touching noses with the dark haired male. He really had no regards for personal space.

“Wait til the girls find out you’re a huge softy underneath.” Satoru laughed.

The tan stripper on the stage descended down the steps, wrapping up her routine and passing the two of them. Satoru pulled his shades down, winking at the girl, and handing her a generous tip. He watched her swoon a bit before running off, bra full of singles.

“Candy, you’re on next.” Tasty called out to you as she entered the locker rooms. You were intently positioning your false lashes on in the mirror. You heard all the girls bustling on about some attractive men who were tipping nicely tonight as you got ready.

You hum in response, bending down and adjusting your straps on your shoes.

“He winked at me, he winked at me!!!!” Tasty said, fawning with the other girls who were peaking out the doorway.

“Girl, you have to see this. They’re the hottest guys I’ve ever seen.” Tasty cooed at you.

“They’re so tall. I got so shy and ran off. I’m sure the one with the sunglasses was flirting with me. I’m gonna go give him a dance, I just needed time to collect myself.” The tanned skinned girl held her cheeks in her hand as she spoke.

“Tasty’s got a crush hmmm?” You say smugly before standing up straight. You look at the hundred dollar bill sticking out of her bra amongst the many singles. You raise an eyebrow at her before you take both of your breasts in your hands, doing a jiggle test to see if they’d pop out your body suit.

“You’ll have a crush too as soon as you see them.” Tasty rolls her eyes. You’re barely intrigued. You’d been infatuated with the same man since high school, and no one could compare to him.

Granted, the both of you weren’t actually dating, nor do you believe he had any idea about your affections or actually reciprocated them. He would occasionally flirt with you, but do not be mistaken— he was a complete asshole. You often rejected his advances, telling him to fix his off putting attitude. This led him to tease and mess with you more, but he still loves to do his best to get you flustered all the while. You couldn’t date someone who lacked so much compassion. But even so, every time you saw him, your knees went weak.

You were partially rejecting him because you were also a busy woman, and you barely had time to fraternize with him the way you wanted to during your day job. When you both were younger and went to school at the academy, he actively made you feel like you were losing to him because he was such a prodigy. Being on his team really sucked because even though you were producing proficient results, standing beside him only made you look just above average.

“Let’s see what this is all about.” You say, strutting towards the huddle your co workers created in the hall. You worm your way through, getting a glimpse of the two men that had everyone’s hormones in a frenzy.

“Oh no.”

You watched as the white haired narcissist threw his head back in laughter, conversing flirtatiously amongst the other waitresses and dancers that crowded around him.

Fucking Gojo Satoru.

“Oh no, no, no.”

Impossible. You were upset that you’d know that laugh of his anywhere. Not to mention his hair made him stick out like a sore thumb.

The only person who knew of your double life was Shoko. And Shoko wouldn’t tell a soul.

Beside Satoru was a seemingly mellow Geto Suguru, grinning softly towards all of the women around them.

You sought death. That was the only way out of this situation- on a stretcher, covering your face and body and keeping your anonymity.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, squatting all the way down to the floor and crawling back into the locker room, praying not to be seen.

“Candy, girl, are you okay?” Your stage manager peered down at you as you slumped behind the love seat in the corner.

“Those guys out there— the two of them work at my day job.” You mutter, burying your face into your knees.

“You know them?!” Tasty interjects.

“Unfortunately,” you nodded. “And the white haired one likes to mess with me a lot.”

“You wanna go home early?” Your manager asks. You had bills to pay, and but quite honestly, one day wouldn’t hurt.

But for some reason you couldn’t help but feel like you’d be allowing him to win somehow by doing that. It was silly- he had no idea of your existence here so this was hardly considered a competition. But this was your space, and you refused to be forced to cower within it.

You stand up, scanning the room for something unique to wear.

“I’m not letting that bastard ruin my bag. I’m getting my money tonight.” You sway towards the vanity, discovering a silk blindfold with eye sockets. You wrap the cloth around your eyes, adjusting it so you can see properly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.” You say confidently, fluffing your hair in the mirror. Besides, it’s only one night, you thought.

You walk out of the prep room, walking towards the steps of the stage. You walked right past the two of them, feeling so many eyes on you as you slowly ascended the stairs.

Both their heads shifted towards you, the sound of pre-cheers and compliments from regular customers ringing with your every step.

“This is Candy.” The host spoke into the loudspeaker. “All the boys want a piece of her. She’s the sweetest dancer here, and she’ll make you forget all your troubles with her playful smile. This week, Candy currently ranks number one in our private dancer line up.”

You were above the two gentleman who were posted up in the front of the stage. Just how did these fuckers find this place? You looked down at the two of them, like a queen looking towards her subjects. You started your routine, smiling your signature smile just like you always did. You wrapped your hands around the pole, swinging your body. The cheers and music rang through your ears. Dollars were being thrown at you, but you were so distracted by two of them.

The both of them had been eyeing you just like everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel self conscious anyways. You swayed your hips, swooping down elegantly to pick up some of the money while you danced, offering winks to some gentlemen in the crowd. Your eyes caught on Satoru, whose sunglasses were tilted slightly downwards. Your eyes nearly met, and you swiftly shifted your gaze towards Suguru. He really dragged you here, you thought. Poor Guru-san.

You watched as Satoru threw a generous wad of singles towards you. You refused to pick it up.

It was a 10 minute set before you would go around and flirt with other customers. You eventually collected your earnings before you gracefully walked down the steps, flipping your hair.

“Candy~” The bastard called out towards you.

You didn’t want to turn around, but you did anyway, breasts bouncing full of bounty.

“That’s for you,” he cheekily handed you a folded wad of cash. You felt the thickness of the money between your fingers. You almost wanted to give it back to him and walk away. Unfortunately, it was custom to lurk around customers who tipped that generously. Your eyes shifted towards Suguru, who had been subtly ogling your breasts.

“Thank you.” You smile plasticly, which you don’t normally do. You were typically and genuinely nice to customers. Most of them abided by the no touch rules and were decent.

“What brings you both here?” You say, leaning on the banister, breasts in full view.

“It’s my buddies birthday.” He grinned. “I wanted him to get a private dance with this weeks number one dancer, or Tasty, if she’s not too busy.”

Your eyes panned over to Suguru, who honestly didn’t look like he wanted a dance from you. You knew better though, not all customers were forward like that, so you didn’t take it personally whatsoever. You even contemplated going to get Tasty to take your place, but something in you made you want to dance near Satoru. Knowing you could rub your hot body in his face and he couldn’t touch you turned you on just a bit. You had no idea where this power complex of yours was stemming from.

“Sure,” he had already paid you more than what the dance costed. “So do you wanna stay out here or go for a private one? I’m fine with whatever, baby.”

You could’ve cringed at yourself, calling your childhood friend baby. You tucked the wad of cash into your body suit. There was enough money here to pay for either kind of dance, possibly two of them.

“I’m good actually.” Suguru says, taking a seat on the sofa. Your eye twitches a bit, and you looks towards Satoru.

“Sugu-chan’s just shy. He couldn’t stop talking about how good you looked.” The white haired male waved his hand. It must’ve been true, because the blush on Suguru’s face was something you could’ve burst out laughing at. Keep it together (Name), you thought.

He was so reserved and gentlemanly at work. You never would’ve guessed he could look this worked up about getting a dance from a beautiful woman. You sit beside him, crossing your legs.

“If what he said is true, thank you. I’ve done my best to perfect that routine.” You said proudly, shifting your body towards him. “Do you really not want a dance?” You ask again, completely ignoring Satoru, who had been going on about something.

Suguru shifted in his seat, and he was obviously trying not to look at your breasts when you squeezed them together with you arms like that.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind one.” He breathed out. You smiled at him before standing up and spreading his legs a bit. You danced in between them, while he laid back and admired you. Satoru sat on the other end of the couch while another dancer attempted to make a pass at him. He accepted her offering, tipping her nicely as well. While she danced for him, you could feel his eyes burning a hole through your back.

You whipped your ass a round, graciously showing Suguru what you had going on. You were feeling mortified on the inside considering he was your childhood friend. However, he was undoubtedly good looking. A little part of you found some sort of sweet satisfaction showing yourself to him like this. He didn’t seem to know it was you, casually sipping while he watched you do your thing.

Your eyes met Satoru’s, who had been peering at you through the body of your fellow dancer. He could feel himself getting aroused at your womanly form, shifting in his seat. He found it hard to focus on the lap dance he was getting from the lovely woman in front of him.

So this is what she’s really like, he thought to himself.

He had been staring for so long your were getting spooked. Did he realize it was you?

For God sake’s, please no.

He offered you a wink and smirked devilishly before going right back to giving his attention towards his current dancer. Your blindfold was your safety shield, and if he stripped that away from you, you would quit your day job and the go find work in a different club.

After some time, you and your partner finished, receiving generous tips yet again.

“Thank you Candy~” Satoru hummed, thanking you on Suguru’s behalf. You waved goodbye, before going towards a new set of customers. He never did stop staring at you that night. Not until you completely removed yourself from the floor. Once your shift was nearly over, and you needed a breather, you seeked refuge back in the prep room.

“I’m glad that’s over,” you sighed, sinking your body into one of many beauty chairs. You decided you had made enough money for the night, removing your blindfold and setting it down on the vanity. Tasty trailed in moments after, swooning excitedly.

“What’s up with you?” You ask, removing your earrings as well.

“I got the dark haired ones number.” Tasty squealed. You were happy for her, considering Suguru was always a decent guy growing up.

“He’s not bad,” you throw your head back, throwing your hair out of your face.

“It’s the other one I’m particularly wary of.” You say, attempting to tie your hair into a ponytail.

“Oh yeah! The white haired one told me to give this to you.” Tasty tore another piece of paper from her bralette.

You stared at the folded strip between her fingertips before anxiously grasping it with your own. You unfolded the thing, eye twitching in agitation.

Call me, if you want ;) XXX-XXX-XXXX

This motherfucker.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo smut

494 notes · View notes

all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Show off.

summary: artemis likes to show his daddy off and harry takes every opportunity to make his son proud.

word count:

based on these requests:

"for the single parent series, could there be one where harry and the reader go to artemis’ school for like parent teacher interviews or like harry goes for a school father’s day kinda thing? thanks!"

and

"wait so what about artemis like showing his daddy off🥺 cause that bb just knows how awesome his dad is and he wants everyone to know it"

and

"For my shy little boy can you write something were parents go to schools to talk about their jobs and Artemis chooses Harry and introduces him as his that and harry gets all mushy and happy to talk about his job and tells funny/cute stories about Artemis and Y/n while they were on the road with him. Please."

and

"hi I love my shy little boy series! could you write something about Artemis calling or telling his friends at school that Harry’s his dad or like Harry attends Artemis school event??"

a/n: hi! sorry for taking so long, i haven't been inspired lately but here we are again! hope you enjoy!

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

November, 2019.

Starting on a new school has never been easy, especially if school year has already started and you’re the last one to join. Making the decision of putting Artemis in another school wasn’t an easy one, but surely the most practical one. After moving in with Harry, Artemis’ school ended up too far from home, so his parents made the decision to choose another one that was closer to their house.

It was hard at first, the poor boy would cry trying to convince his mummy to let him stay, sometimes faking having the flu or a headache. Y/N would sigh and try to explain to him how he had to put on a little effort, she understood it was hard for him to leave his teacher, his friends, a routine he was already used to. However, closing off and refusing to talk to his classmates didn’t make things better.

Slowly but surely, Artemis started to accept the changes. He started talking to a few kids, opening up to the idea of making new friends. He’d talk about what he liked, disliked and, of course, he’d talk about his mummy and daddy.

“My daddy says we treat people with kindness!”

“My mummy packs me breakfast every day.”

Those were some of the things he’d usually say to his classmates. However he held back a little when it came to talk about Harry, having his mummy explain to him before how not everybody had the best intentions when it came to them, so sometimes it was better to not say too much. But Artemis couldn’t help it, he loved his daddy too much.

One day, he was at school sitting beside one of his friends, a little girl named Allison. The teacher had giving them permission to use the last minutes of the class to do whatever they wanted, and Artemis was coloring a book next to his friend.

"What's your daddy's name?" The girl asked.

"Harry," He smiled. "Harry Styles."

Much to his surprise, the blonde girl let out a high-pitched laugh while shocking her head. “No, he isn’t.” She stated. “Harry Styles’ a rock star. That’s what my mummy says.”

Artemis furrowed. At this point, he was well aware what his daddy’s job was, but to him Harry’s always been a normal person. The man who dated his mummy and now was his dad too. “He is!” Allison just shook her head again, making her pigtails move as well. It frustrated the boy how she seemed to not believe him, when he was obviously telling the truth.

So he crossed his arms across his chest, pouting. The teacher has noticed the little disagreement the kids had, and she secretly took the girl’s side. It had been a little over a month since Artemis had arrived to the school and she was yet to meet the boy’s dad, as Y/N was always the one who picked him up. Soon enough, the parents of the children started to show up, and the classroom became emptier.

There were a few kids left besides Artemis that were still waiting to be collected when Harry showed up. He was excited to meet his son’s teacher since he wasn’t able to before, he’s been pretty busy since the album release was approaching therefore his time was being consumed by meetings and last minute trips to the studio. He walked down the hallway with a big smile on his face, looking down at all the small humans with their parents. He must admit, if there was one thing he didn’t like about Artemis’ new school, it would be the uniforms. The tiny, navy blue polo his son had to wear under the long sleeve shirt with the logo of the school embroidered on his shirt was a little too formal on his opinion, but it was part of the rules.

Harry’s smile grew at the sight of his son waiting for him. “Daddy!” Artemis was the one who spotted him first, getting up from his chair and running towards him. “You came!”

“Of course I came.” Harry said, his hands ran through the mop of curls Artemis had. “Go for your bag, I’ll say hello to your teacher.”

Artemis did what his daddy told him, and when he passed next to Allison, he made an ‘I told you so’ expression. “Told you I wasn’t a bloody liar!” The little girl opened her mouth in offense, but to be fair she didn’t believe him when he told her.

“Hi, I’m Artemis’ dad.” Harry offered the teacher a smile as they shook hands. It was still surreal to him introducing himself as a father, and it never failed to put a smile on his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier, things have been a little hectic at work and I’ve been out of town.”

“Uh, It-it’s okay. It’s nice to meet you Mr. Styles.” The woman in front of him was nervous and he was sure she wasn’t aware who Artemis’ father was. “I don’t know if you’ve received the email yet, but we’re having a small gathering with the parents on Wednesday so they could come talk about their jobs to the kids and stuff.”

He nodded. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to my girlfriend about it but you’ll see either of us here.” He gave her one last smile before he took Artemis’ hand in his. “Let’s go, baby. Say bye to your teacher.”

“Bye!” The little boy waved to her before turning his attention back to his daddy. They walked outside of the school at to his car, Harry listening closely to what Artemis was telling him. “Allison didn’t believe you were my daddy!”

“She didn’t?” He asked as he lifted Artemis to put him on his car seat. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“She said her mummy told her you were a rock star or something.” He shrugged. “But you can be both right? A rock star and my daddy?”

“Of course I can be both!” He exclaimed, kissing the top of his head.

Harry carried Artemis’ backpack inside while the small boy ran towards the living room, in look for his mummy. “She’s in her office, mate.”

“Is she working?” Harry hummed in confirmation.

While Y/N was working in her office, Harry helped Artemis clean up before they started lunch together. When the food was ready, she finally came out of the room and went to find her boys. “Hello, darlings.” She said.

“Mummy!” Artemis ran towards his mum and gave her a hug.

The family of three ate happily, conversation never dying down because of the small bubble of joy that couldn’t stop talking with his parents. He’d talk until he became too tired he had to be put down to his afternoon nap. Harry was putting everything in the dishwasher when Y/N came back down, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

“I met Artemis’ teacher today.” She hummed in response. “She uh, did she tell you about the parent thingy?”

“What?”

“You know, where parents go talk to the kids about their jobs.”

“Oh, I didn’t think they’d do that.”

“Have you gone to one?”

“Yeah, last year at Artemis’ old school. It was fun.”

“It’s on Wednesday.”

“I think it will be good if you go.” Harry turned around to see her, thinking she wasn’t serious. “What? You don’t think so?”

“No, no. It’s not that. I just thought you’d want to go.”

“I’m sure Artemis would want you there, your job is more interesting.” She joked, making hum frown.

“That’s not true.”

“You’re right. But i still think you should go."

Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the classroom. He has has a little wardrobe crisis trying to decide what should he wear to the event. He didn't want to be too formal, quickly deciding that a suit wouldn't be the his first choice. But he didn't want to be too casual either, his job might not require a tux and a tie but showing up in sweatpants and a hoodie wasn't a choice either. So he settled for a pair brown slacks that he paired with a white button up shirt and some gucci loafers.

He wanted to make his son proud so he has also prepared for any questions the kids might have. He didn't consider his job to be more important than the others, but the children would probably be interested when a man with an unconventional job walks in.

There were already a few parents standing in one side of the classroom when he arrived, and a man was in the middle of explaining what he did for a living while standing in the middle of the room. Harry immediately spotted Artemis sitting on a chair, however he was looking around the room trying to find his daddy.

When his hazel eyes met Harry's green ones, the little boy smiled widely, glad he was finally there. Harry made him a sign, silently telling him to pay attention to the other parents until it was Harry's turn.

It had been fifteen minutes since he arrived and he was finally next in line. Currently, a middle aged woman was explaining how she was an accountant and trying to make numbers sound interesting to a bunch of five year olds. Nonetheless, Harry clapped when the woman finished talking and that encouraged the kids to clap too.

The teacher made him a sign and Harry stepped in the middle of the room. "Hello, my name's Harry."

"That's my dad!" He heard Artemis exclaim from his seat.

"That's right." He chuckled. "I'm uh, i'm a musician, which means i make music for a living." He started saying. "We all like music, right?" The children cheered. "I love music, and the reason why i do what i do is to try and make people feel something through my music." Harry was actually trying to make it interesting, so he decided to add a twist. "My job also makes me travel the world constantly."

"Have you been to Japan?" One boy asked.

"I have, yes. I like to learn from the countries I visit, and Japan is one of our favorites. Right, pal?" He looked at Artemis for confirmation. "Last time I was there, I took my family to this beautiful place to eat. Unfortunately, they didn't have forks and we had to eat everything with chopsticks. My... girlfriend didn't know how to use them, and in one wrong move she sent flying a piece of sushi to the table next to us, can you believe it?!" The kids laughed.

"What else do you do?"

"I tour the world, and bring my music anywhere I can. Have you ever been to a concert?" Some kids nodded and some others shook their heads. "Well, concerts are a lot of fun, you'll see when you get older. One time i forgot my passport at home, and couldn't get on my flight. I had a concert to give!"

"And what did you do?"

"Artemis here delivered it, right son?" The curly haired boy nodded shyly at his dad.

"Where do you get your inspiration from?" One little girl asked, raising her hand before speaking.

He smiled, not expecting that question from a child. "From life, honestly. As you get older you try and find a way of expressing yourself and art is very important. You see, there's a lot of ways we can comunicate without having an actual conversation. It can be through a painting, or a poem, perhaps even dancing. I chose to do it on a song. What i write about? Things that makes me happy. And what makes me happy? Well, that's easy. My family."

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs @megaprincesscakes

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles x you #harry styles au #dad!harry #stepdad!harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fluff

846 notes · View notes

h2bakugou · 3 years

Note

Hewoo I saw requests were open and this really cute idea popped in my head can get a lot of fluff with Denki where he surprises his s/o on they're anniversary in front of the whole school

a/n: hiii!! ooo this is so cute omg, we stan denki. please i- i love him so much i cant

summary: with your one-year anniversary coming up soon, kaminari had every intention of making it big, he’d been dating you for a whole year! however, his plan may or may get a little out of his hands when he ends up confessing in front of nearly the whole school.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, a camp rock line(i never watched high school musical sorry)

word count: 1.8k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

Kaminari had met you in secondary school, the year before you both got into U.A. It was coincidentally on a whim when your class collaborated with his on a debate project on some literature project.

You were paired together, four students from your class on a team with four from his class.

He was goofy, light-hearted, kind, and way too flirty for his age, but you ignored his cheesy pick-up lines until you won the debate.

He’d asked to exchange numbers at the very least since you’d become friends. And that friendship kindled over time, so much so, that you were both over the moon about applying to U.A. together.

And before you knew it, Kaminari was walking hand-in-hand with you home from the park, or from the grocery store, the two of you often hanging out together over break, excited to be making dinner one night, or happy to help out over at his house.

Needless to say, a few of those long summer nights when you spent time in the pool alone with him, you couldn’t help but let out how you really feel, the two of you eventually establishing something more than a friendship.

You headed to the entrance exams as a couple, and you were both too happy to speak when you saw one another in class the following week.

And now you sat in the Class 1-A dormitory common room, Kaminari’s body between your legs as you put up his hair, a face mask applied to both of your faces as you giggled and reminisced about your time together, your anniversary of being together for one year coming up soon.

“Remember the one time you had to go to the ER because of the shopping cart accident?” Kaminari brought up a rather embarrassing story.

“That poor old lady was petrified, she thought she’d killed me.” You and Kaminari had been goofing off in the grocery store parking lot, returning the cart to its drop-off when an old lady backed out into the cart you were standing on.

It tilted back and you saved yourself from landing face-first on the asphalt at the expense of your right arm. It hurt like a bitch and you had to wear a cast for about a month before your arm healed up enough to do much more.

“You were so worried.” You teased, braiding his yellow hair between your fingers. He lifted his head to look up at you, a pout on his lips.

“I thought you died too!” Kaminari cooed, pressing a kiss to your knee as he turned back around to let you continue playing with his hair.

“You’re an idiot.” Bakugou mumbled. Kirishima sat beside you, along with Sero, who also had face masks on. They begged to be included in the self-care session and were happily enjoying themselves listening to all your stories.

“So final jam’s coming up.” Kaminari blurted.

“What?!” You laughed, confused at his words.

“T-The final jam?” Kaminari turned back around to stare at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Are you referring to our anniversary as the final jam?” You glared at the yellow-blonde.

“I’m sorry! I had to.” Kaminari stood up and grabbed your hand, yanking you off of the couch.

“That’s right, you’ve been together for a while now huh?” Sero mentioned, glancing over at Bakugou who seemed to be interested in the idea of Kaminari holding a relationship longer than a week.

“One whole year.” Kaminari stared at you with adoration in his eyes, and you were worried if he stared any harder his eyes would pop out. Your face was hot at his words.

You felt all giddy and warm inside. You really did love Kaminari, and getting to this point felt so amazing, so refreshing.

“That’s awesome! Congrats!” Kirishima was quick to congratulate you both on the seemingly wild accomplishment.

Later during the night, after washing off the face mask and finishing up your routine, you walked back to your dorm with Kaminari.

“I really couldn’t be more excited for our anniversary.” Kaminari’s hands rested in yours as he pulled you in for a hug.

“I know, I’m excited too. You gonna take me out on a big date?” You tease, hugging him.

“I’m broke!” Kaminari whines, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

“I’m kidding. I just wanna spend the day with you, playing video games and-”

“Cuddling.” Kaminari offers, his eyes sparkling.

“Cuddling.” You agree, leaning in, pressing your lips to his. It’s a short kiss, but it’s meaningful, and tender, and passionate. It holds just enough emotion to convey how warm you feel inside. It’s electrifying, pun intended.

“I love you, sweet dreams.” Kaminari whispers as you begin to open your dorm door. You smile and wave.

“I love you too, goodnight.” You reply, closing the door after he leaves.

That night you tuck yourself into bed, happier than usual. You’re almost too excited to even sleep. But eventually, your dreams call you and you’re drifting away before you can even realize it.

The day of your anniversary, you’re a giddy mess. Kaminari and you are practically in each other’s arms the entire morning, hoping that you aren’t being that annoying couple. You’re keeping the PDA down to simple hand-holding even though you’d much rather embrace him and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe.

But you had classes. The mushy-gushy stuff could wait till later. When Aizawa couldn’t yell at you.

During the day, Kaminari and you both ended up surprising one another with little gifts, tiny trinkets just to show that you were thinking of each other. Kaminari of course bought you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, whereas you managed to snag a pretty rose for him and a new game for his console.

He was over the moon about the rose and claimed he was going to cherish it forever. It was so sweet.

That was until lunch rolled around.

“There the love birds are!” Mina cheered as you and Kaminari sat down at the table. Almost the entire class was aware of what was today, and a few peers congratulated you on being together for one year.

“Hush!” Your face burned with embarrassment as you nuzzled into Kaminari’s shoulder, swatting away at your pink-haired friend.

“You guys are so cute!” She teased, taking another bite of her lunch.

Lunch was abruptly interrupted when Kaminari said he had to go somewhere. You were a bit surprised by his exclamation but you said goodbye as he left.

“What’s with that?” You asked, a defeated sigh coming from your lips.

“Don’t know. Maybe he’s got another gift for you.” Mina nudged your side. You shook your head and covered your face.

“Please! I can’t take any more gifts from him, I just wanna spend quality time with him and do stupid lovey-dovey couple’s crap.” You groan.

Kaminari was racing toward the AV room where he had agreed to meet another student for something he had commissioned for you. It was a delicate glass frame with a picture of you and him embossed into it.

Of course by the time he arrived, he was running late. He blamed you for being so captivating, of course though, it wasn’t an issue that he was late, the student was there, happy as could be to have been commissioned for a project.

And the result was beautiful. It was truly wonderful, and Kaminari was almost in tears at how delicate and amazing it looked. Kaminari had already paid the student when he brought up the idea, and now he was finally here to get it.

It was wrapped in a beautiful box, carefully surrounded with bio-degradable filler to prevent it from breaking.

“Thank you so much for doing this, it’s so important to me.” Kaminari placed the box down on the table in the AV room, unaware that he’d set it down on the button that turned on the intercom for student news, etc.

Kaminari had set it down because he was afraid he’d drop it on a whim somehow.

“They’re just so important to me, I can’t explain it. They’re the one, ya know?” Kaminari’s voice rang throughout the intercom system.

Your ears perked up, your face begging to sear with heat.

“I think I’ve always loved (Y/n). When we met I could just feel the world stop and all I could see was them. And from there I knew, I wanted to spend every waking moment with them.” Kaminari was completely unaware that his words were now being heard throughout the entire school building.

“Oh my god.” Kirishima looked at you. Everyone that knew you, was staring at you. You couldn’t help but feel touched. You could feel your eyes swelling with tears, happy tears.

“I live to see them smile, and their laugh? It’s music to my ears. I’m so in love with them. I’d spend a million years of my life with them, today marks one.” Kaminari’s words were cut short by a teacher barging through the door. Quickly turning to see the commotion, Kaminari was confused when the teacher started yelling about using the intercom for personal reasons.

That’s when Kaminari’s eyes shot down to where he’d sat the box, and now noticed the blinking red light that confirmed the intercom was actively broadcasting.

Blush spread like fire across his face and ears, as he quickly grabbed the box and stormed back to the cafeteria where you were still eating lunch.

Barging in, you lifted your head, smiling like an idiot as he ran toward you.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that I- It was true, all of it, but I didn’t mean to embarrass you or or-”

Your lips on his shut him up as your rested your hands on his shoulders, completely silencing him. His hands held onto the box in front of him, his lips moving together against yours.

A few cheers and ‘woos’ came from fellow students but you couldn’t hear them. You were completely capsulated by Kaminari and the electric love blossoming between the two of you.

Pulling away in a haze, all you could see was him.

“I love you so much.” You smiled.

Later, after a decent scolding from Aizawa and another teacher, you were let go and finally allowed to go to your dorm.

Placing the delicate glass picture up on your shelf you then pulled Kaminari onto your bed, nuzzling into his side.

“This is what I was waiting for.” Kaminari cuddled into you, wrapping around you like a sloth as you laid on his stomach doing the same.

“This is an average Tuesday for us.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Well, I like my average Tuesdays with you, dummy.” Kaminari smiled, clicking on your tv to watch something as you cuddled.

The anniversary was a success. And who cared if nearly the whole school knew about how strongly you felt for one another. You were happy, Kaminari was happy, and you couldn’t wait to spend more time with him.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

#kaminari #denki #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

107 notes · View notes

thesmokingguns · 3 years

Text

Three Loves

Word Count: 1202

Pairings: Izzy Stradlin X OC, Randy Rhoads X OC

Warning: Mention of Death, Cheating

Request: “The reader was with randy rhoads until his passing and Izzy finds out about her past and they talk about randy and share stories “

They say in life you’ll have three loves.

The first one is the fairytale love which was my first boyfriend in high school. We were the two kids that seemed like they should be together. Popular and good looking. Our parents were friends and we all just fit together in that neat little package. Plans of getting married after HIgh School was in our future. My mother was so sure of the ring that would grace my finger that on weekends we’d go into London to browse shops for a potential China that I’d want to get.

It was on one of those trips that I met my second love, The Hard love. It seems foolish to call Randy my hard love. There was nothing hard about loving him, It came easy. From the moment that I literally walked into him when I ducked out of the shop we were hooked. He was a skinny blonde American and I was a short brunette from outside of London but it was like sparks and fireworks despite the chilly rain.

For a week I thought about the stranger that had bumped into me outside of the shop. I begged my mother to let me go to London by myself that weekend and she did. When we saw each other on the street we both had these stupid smiles on our face because we knew that we were looking for each other.

We talked all day in a little tea shop. Randy kept ordering more and more stuff so they wouldn’t kick us out but when there were no customers left we realized we needed to go. He walked me to the train station and before I got on the train he pulled me into a kiss that had my mind spinning on the ride back home. After church the next day I broke up with my boyfriend. I knew if I could feel like that after one kiss that I couldn't stay with him.

Two weeks later I had packed a bag and was moving into a small house with him. It was easy playing house, even though my parents didn’t approve of the man that was so much older than me.

Randy was my soulmate. Everything we did was together. It must have driven everyone nuts how we became a packaged deal but now knowing how our story was cut short I appreciate how deeply he loved me.

When we got to the US I loved laying in the California sun but he pushed me to go for a degree. He always wanted better for me and believed in me when I wasn’t sure of myself. I grew up with Randy. We had plans of being in school at UCLA, him for music studying classic guitar and me for business.

Randy insisted I stay in school and not come on tour. He wanted to make sure I was getting settled in. He sent me pictures of all the places that we were going to see together. All the places he wanted to take me. I have all the letters that he sent to me in a shoebox in my closet, with the polaroids and film.

I was in our apartment sitting on a stool in the kitchen well I worked on an assignment, the radio playing in the background when I heard them say they were going to play a block of Ozzy songs and they said you had died. A plane crash. But you hated flying so how could that be true. I was confused and scared. My mind is not making sense of anything. When Sharon called me an hour later to confirm it I had screamed before dropping the phone.

I mourned Randy all through college. Not thinking of anything but getting my degree and making something of myself for him. I wanted to do something to make him proud of me. We had been together for two and a half years and it felt cruel he had been taken from me. I didn't know how I was even going to heal. Some days now I get sad over it now thinking of what had been.

But I met my last love five years later.

When I met Izzy it was a set up. A blind date. A date that I did not want to be on but got set up on by a few friends. I walked into the restaurant ready to explain to the person that I was supposed to meet that this had been a terrible mistake and I wasn’t ready to date anyone, Being lead over to the table I sat across from a man who had me talking like we were old friends in under 20 minutes. Breaking down walls that had been built and crafted to protect me.

We had our second date the next day at a small sushi place where I drank Sake for the first tme and laughed loudly at how he ate with his fingers. It didn't feel like a date as much as it felt like we were just catching up as friends.

Our third date was two days later where we went to see a show together. Izzy towered over my 5ft nothing frame and picked me up on his shoulders to see the band playing. As he walked me home to my flat that night he asked me if he could kiss me. I hadn't been kissed by a man in years so instead of responding I had cried.

Izzy had got me inside and on the couch, getting a warm cup of tea in my hands and listening to my love story with Randy. I told him everything that I could think of. And he listened to it all and when I was calm he said something that made me know I’d love him.

“You don’t have to stop loving Randy, ever. But you deserve to be loved again.”

And I did love Izzy now.

It was a different love. We both were older and had been through different situations of love before. So we were ready for each other, comfortable in ourselves and our careers. It wasn’t all consuming but more like two puzzle pieces fitting together. Solid and right.

Izzy taught me how to have fun again. He took me to shady bars where we would play pool or darts and drink beer that tasted flat for a dollar. He made me stay up past my self imposed bedtime to go to parties with celebrities that he’d whisper gossip about. He liked to wake up early and drag me with him outside, wrapping me in his arms as we sat on lawn chairs watching the sun rise together.

He loved me for who I was and always gave me room to be that person. It was the type of love that we would always have because it was a love that was truly with my best friend.

I had been lucky to love three amazing people and have three amazing stories. But as I adjusted the white veil I knew Izzy was the one that I’d grow old with. He was my last love.

#izzy stradlin #Izzy straddlin request #izzy stradlin x reader #Izzy stradlin headcanon #izzy stradlin imagine #Imagine #GNR #Guns N Roses #Headcanon #Fan fic #80s rock #80s fanfic #80s #GNR imagine #Three loves #requesr

70 notes · View notes

secondlifep · 2 years

Text

Metallica and Cliff Burton

Hello there boys and girls, SecondLifeP here with a story to share with all of you, inspired by @5triderofthenorth and his commentary on the wonderful world of Metallica...

I was 15 years old, just starting my first year of high school. An all-boys school intended to make something out of me and prepare me for the hallowed halls of university, just another path in what was expected to be an amazing and storied life of another lower middle-class dork propped up into the echelons of higher learning.

My exposure to music at that time came through a number of forms:

First was the record, 8-track and cassette collection that I was exposed to by my parents, a wild and crazy assortment of the Oak Ridge Boys, Jesus Christ Superstar, John Denver, Saturday Night Fever, Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers, and many others in between... I especially loved disco, and could often be found jamming and "dancing" to the Saturday Night Fever 8-track that my parents had.

The second form was the radio, where what became the classic 80's was often heard ... Blondie, Queen, Styx, Thomas Dolby, Devo, and many others were to be heard ... I also heard a great deal of Led Zeppelin (Say "Stairway to Heaven" one more time) and Pink Floyd (I think I OD on Another Brick in the Wall in those days).

The third was through a really close friend that I had known for years that got me introduced to the harder music and especially what became the new wave of British Heavy Metal including Iron Maiden and my favorite band, Judas Priest.

Along the way, I had heard of bands like Black Sabbath and Iron Butterfly, but they were not on my radar all that much at the time ...

Coming back to high school, one of my least favorite classes at the time was English class ... didn't much like reading stuff, would rather be playing video games or watching horror movies or daydreaming of teenage girls naked and full of lusty desires for me (far from the reality of my life, btw). I sat in the back of the class, the last seat in the last row ... where I could hide in quiet solitude and not worry about too much.

The only cool thing about that class was that the teacher seemed to be a "friend of the 60's", wink wink, smart fella but very laid back and chill. Almost too chill. I was never sure if he was totally with it most days. In an ironic twist of fate, he also taught me how to drive and took me for my drivers' license about a year later ... let's just say we took driving slow ... it was all cool, man.

I was a super shy and quiet kid, so I didn't make too many friends, but there was this kid who sat in front of me who seemed pretty cool. Liked the same kids of music and even brought in a playboy or two for me to ogle in the back of the class, which his older brother got for him, I think.

Anyhow, one day during class he turns around and asks me if I want to go see a concert with him. It was kinda outta the blue, as we didn't hang out after school or anything ... but I was apparently intrigued by the extra attention and said sure. He asked me to give him the money and he would take care of the tickets...

So I asked my parents, and surprisingly they said yes.. I think they were just happy to see my being social, so even if this kid wanted to take me in a white van, and get high and hang with strippers (there goes my imagination again), I think they might have just been fine and dandy with that.

That being settled, I brought the money to school and gave it to him to get the tickets.

We were going to see this guy named Ozzy Osbourne, who had a new album out that I had heard some of and was interested in. The album was called Bark at the Moon.

I was excited and after getting the tickets, didn't even know that there was such a thing as an "opening act" when we went to see the concert.

The night of the concert my father dropped me off at the arena, and I met my friend and we went in. I am not sure where or how he got the tickets, but we had these amazing seats ... 25th row on the floor near the center of the stage.

As the lights went out and the show began, I was excited to embark on my first concert experience and to hear live, the songs of the album I had just started to get acquainted with. As the beginning of the show began, it was this extremely loud and hard and fast sound that I did not recognize as being any of the songs I was familiar with, and looking at the stage, I saw this large cloth backdrop with an image and band name that I couldn't quite read and these three guys (minus the drummer) came out on stage and started playing this loud, heavy, fast and mind pounding music.

I was in awe ... I was blown away ... and my ears were numb from the throbbing sounds, in particular the lower frequency registers that were pulsating in, around, and threw me given where I was situated in the arena.

I could not understand a word of the lyrics, but the music was amazing and energy lifted me in a way that I had never experienced before.

The entire time this band played, there was this guy in front of me, on stage, playing an instrument (I didn't know a guitar or bass from a hole in the wall at the time), with long straight and messy hair, he wore a denim jacket with the sleeves torn off, denim jeans and a t-shirt and had this scary, facial hair thing that I didn't quite know what it was.

He thrashed his head up and down, letting his hair fly everywhere, looking out at us from time to time in this very strong and gauntlet-like stare. He was there but not there, present but also surreal at the same time.

I watched him almost the entire time the band performed ... he was hypnotic and this energy came from him that I could feel, figuratively and in reality, as I could connect the thumping that made my ears and body pound with the movement of his playing.

In between songs I could see him grabbing plastic cups with what I surmised was beer, occasionally drinking and sloshing and sometimes throwing little swishes of the liquid into the audience who screamed and yelled at his presence.

When it was over, I found myself no longer in the arena, my mind was in another place.

Ozzy came out after the stage change break and played a magnificent show. Jake E. Lee, who I came to later love as a guitarist (really loved Badlands first album and Jake's straight-ahead sound and playing) was on guitar. He had broken his leg, so he was in a full leg cast, yet still managed to electrify the audience.

After the concert, I had to go to a payphone to call my father to pick me up. I remember that call exactly as it happened. He picked up the phone and I told him the concert was over and he asked me "How was it?" to which I responded "It was fucking amazing!", not realizing that I had used a word of strictly forbidden language at the time, and my father either not hearing it over the loudness of all the people around me or giving me a pass given the circumstances - I never did learn that.

The next day, I had to go find out about this band that had opened for Ozzy and get the album that they had played from and learn all about them. Good thing the ticket stub had their name on it, otherwise I would never have known: Metallica

Their album Master of Puppets was what they were touring in support of .. and this guy that stood on stage, larger than life, and whose presence and charisma had enjoined me into the masses of fandom for the band ... his name was Cliff. Cliff Burton.

I listened to Master of Puppets on vinyl for hours and hours and hours ... and then became engaged in both their earlier and later catalog.

I started picking up music magazines and guitar magazines to learn about the band and learn their music. Not too many months later I got to read about a tragic accident that had occurred with this band I had only learned about and was getting into... and one of the members of the band was killed in the accident. It took me a bit to connect the dots, but when I did it left me with the strangest feeling of sadness.

Only decades later did I come to appreciate the reality of this situation and the good fortune I had had from the kid sitting in front of me in a stupid English class who invited me to a concert and I got to experience the amazing energy of a musician that passed away shortly after and most definitely too soon.

As a budding guitar player, my early "bands" played from a selection of bands' music, including Judas Priest, AC/DC, and most importantly Metallica.

Before I purged some of my social media participation last year, I was FB friends with this boy who bought me this ticket and took me to this concert, we still talked about it a few times over the decades and what an amazing time it was.

#about me #metallica #cliff burton #rip cliff #ozzy osbourne #live performance #my first concert

14 notes · View notes

euronymous-files · 3 years

Photo

What follows is a summary of the most interesting information (about Euronymous) that Marius Vold gave during an interview with Thomas Eriksen of Mork. The direct quotes are in bold, and the rest is a concise version of what was said. You should definitely check the whole interview here.

note: M is Marius, E is Euronymous, V is Varg and T is Thomas (the interviewer).

............................................

- M worked at Helvete, he made many of the medieval weapons, chain mail and clothing that can be seen in various bands' pictures in the first days of norwegian black metal - fun fact: M got scared the first time he listened to "Deathcrush" - M talked to E a few months before E opened Helvete. E told him about his idea of opening a record store and M liked it. Then one day E called M and told him to come and see the shop. When M got there he was impressed with the atmosphere but he also remembers there was almost nothing on the shelves. "They painted the whole thing black, he and Metalion, I think". - E was importing records for the store but there weren't many of them... but people came to the store and donated some of their records; everyone was contributing in some way, as a community. Some would also give them other stuff like candles, curtains, or a telephone. - "It was all black. When you came in from outside into the store you couldn't see anything. You had to stop and just wait for the eyes to focus. And the most funny thing was right inside the door there was a step up and EVERYONE tripped! [laughter] We were just sitting there in the dark and waiting for someone to come in and trip. Really fall on the floor and then point and laugh [more laughter]." - So at the beginning they got free records from their supporters, plus E through his contacts abroad managed to import some more records, and by selling them they started to make some capital, but they never actually got any money out of it because all the income was barely enough to pay the monthly rent which was around 6000 kroner. - apart from records (especially demo tapes), they would also sell the weapons that Marius and Sverd (Steinar Johnsen) made. - They would get lots of customers but "E had this idea that you shouldn't make too much money, you shouldn't be greedy, so when he sold an album for like 120kroner he's like maybe 20 kroner for him, so you can't run a record shop." So if he bought an album for 100 he would resell it for 120, but those 20 went all into the rent. "So he wasn't greedy, then?", asks T. "Absolutely not!" replies M. - The staff at Helvete was: E, M, Occultus, Thrasher, a girl named Tove and another young boy who didn't want to go to school anymore and wanted to work in Helvete, so his teacher came down to the shop one day to check the place and asked E if the kid could work there and E was like "sure". - E lived in the back room. "It was no way to live. Mattress on the floor, with all the books [...] then he found kind of a secret room in the ceiling [...] 1.20m high, so he put his bed in there, but it was so difficult to get up and down. [There was no ladder] He had to climb on the shelves and pull himself up there. I think he was glad when he finally got another place to stay when he closed the shop." - "E was a guy with a lot of ideas". "In a positive way?" asks T. "Both ways", replies M. [laughter] "He had all these thoughts about the music [...] what it should mean and the feeling around it, and it was very important for him that most people didn't like it. They shouldn't like it. Less people the better." "It's a funny way to look at things when you're trying to run a business", says T. "Yeah, but he was really not TRYING to run a business.", answers M. [more laughter] He was rather interested in enjoying the sense of community and being around like-minded people, and with time more and more people gathered around the shop, and with them came also "the wrong people". - The satanic part was just image, there was nothing "ritualistic" going on. "It was to scare the guys in the street". "The closest satanic thing was maybe lighting the candles, having a photoshoot in the basement, corpse paint, walking around in capes and stuff, but you didn't talk in old latin and write big pentagrams or anything, you know? No killing sheep...". - M never liked Burzum’s music at all - T says he knows E's girlfriend. M asks "which one?" and T replies "The last one". Then T says "I remember the first time I met her - I'm not going to use any names - but the first time I met her we were in the same room and I was talking about music, as we do, and I happened to say that I like Burzum, as a reference, and she kind of had it with me... We're friends now, there's no problem, but I understand that you guys were so close to it..." - the first time M saw V it was in Helvete. E called M and said "I have a strange guy in the store, he's been here for the whole day... just been there, you know... and he's talking about fantasy and LOTR...". E wasn't into that but knew that M was so E asked M if he wanted to come down to the store to talk to this weird guy. After talking for a night, M says about V: "He rubbed me the wrong way, he wanted everything more extreme. He was talking about 'it would be really cool to make a live with just black metal people'...ok, what's that about?... 'Just hunting each other in the forest with real swords and real knives'... ok, ok, you know I don't want my arm cut off... so I took a step back, let him just talk." - the moment V entered the picture and he became friends with E, M says was the point where everything turned to the worse. - the Black Circle - as it was indeed called at the time, according to M - was just around 10 people. They were in because of the way they looked at things, how they fitted into this cult-like vision. The members were E, M, V, Snorre, Faust, Fenriz, Ted, Occultus and Hellhammer (but he was in and out). Some people asked to get in but that's not how it worked, you needed to be considered worthy. It was essentially like a gang of friends, they would hang out in the basement and have parties, listening to metal and stuff... - Helvete closed in march '93 both because of the amount of attention from the media and because of the rent being too high. E also had some pressure from his family. He was living in the store in terrible conditions, he wanted out, so his parents basically told him that if he closed the shop, they were going to help him get a place to stay. So he accepted, deciding to concentrate more on the label. - there wasn't really any written contract between E and V, it was more a verbal deal. In the beginning V said he could pay for the whole thing, that he wanted his album to come out on DSP because he wanted to use the DSP name to get more attention. M never heard V being unhappy with the economical part and he doesn't know where the hostility came from. M doesn't remember E ever telling him why things got wrong with V. He says "V often lied about things. For me he lied a lot." - After Helvete closed, M remained in contact with both E and V but he never liked V so it was only V who called him and M just listened to V talking and then replied in a disinterested way. M recalls V telling him "If you come to Bergen and if you support me and not that fucking guy in Oslo, then I will buy more clothes from you and the chain mail and stuff". M says "I could see through that, it was just bullshit, he was saying that to butter me up". - M was informed of E's death by Hellhammer. M was shocked and kept thinking who could have done this; he couldn't figure it out but he went to the police because he had to tell them that in his opinion E must have known his murderer, since the only way to get into the apartment complex was to ring the intercom and announce yourself. Also, there was no name on E's button, so the killer must have known which one to push and E must have recognized the person, and let him in, in the middle of the night. M also says that E was very careful about that, he never let in anybody he didn't know, not even someone who claimed to be the mailman. - After E's death, M didn't have any more inspiration and didn't want to stay in the community. "I had kind of a reaction to metal after the death of E. I couldn't listen to metal for several years."

----------------------------------- The Thomas Eriksen Podcast #10 - Marius Vold

#euronymous #oystein aarseth #mayhem #black metal #archive #interview #podcast #mork #mortem #arcturus #marius vold #so we have proof that Oystein had a girlfriend #and proof that Varg is a psycho... not that we actually needed more proof of that #also the BS about Oystein being greedy spread by varg and snorre and necrobitch can go back to the dumpster with them #also another testimony that confirms Varg being a pathological liar and manipulator #it took me three days to finish this post but damn it feels good

118 notes · View notes

imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Peculiar World

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Request: Can you do a Saul x wife reader who has magic. She was raised by Damon and was maybe a teen in season 1 of TVD so she was involved with all the crazy. She's also bffs with Klaus and Hopes godmother. She's is a teacher at alfea and the SBS. She is also a mentor to Riven like Saul/Sky.I kinda want to see Saul reaction to all of this as he knows about TVD but never met them. Anonymous

A/N I'm a little limited in my knowledge of Legacies so I've had to leave a little of the request out but I hope you like it anyway! 💛

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

"This is going to be an amazing place, you know." You're standing in the doorway of the newly funded Salvatore Boarding Scool remembering all the memories it holds. Alaric turns around with a smile crossing the room to hug you tightly.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't become a stranger when you moved." You can't help but chuckle. It's not exactly like you just moved a state over.

"I moved to another realm, Ric. It's a little harder than an hour's drive." A couple of students hurry outside laughing. It takes you back to your own high school days though you didn't have a place where you could practise magic openly and safely. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd had to use your magic to save everyone alongside Bonnie, how many times you'd grieved the loss of a loved one and the joy you felt when they made their way back to life.

"I thought I heard my favourite witch." Damon comes walking down the stairs and you must admit that humanity looks good on him. The biggest surprise is Elena not being next to him. When you left, they were quite literally joined by the hip.

"Don't let Bonnie catch you saying that," you chuckle but you're really just happy to see him. He took you in when your parents died and since then the Salvatore mansion had been your home. Back then you'd been his only redemption before he actually started being a good person. Elena had brought it out in him but you like to think you were the beginning of the development. He'd saved your life more than once.

"Don't worry. I tell her the same thing when you're not here." He ruffles up your hair making you feel like a little kid all over again. But this time you're a married adult with your own life and Damon knows that too.

"You look good," he says pulling you in for a hug.

"You too. Apparently, married life suits us both." You know Damon has been torn between wanting to hate Saul for stealing you away and appreciating the fact that he makes you very happy.

"Who would've thought?"

You return to the present realising that you've been standing under the running water long enough for it to turn cold. You use a little magic to quickly dry off your hair so you can be on time for class. You still have no idea how Saul managed to get you a job at Alfea when you're not even a fairy but it makes your marriage a lot easier. Neither of you likes being away from each other but working at Alfea has kept you from your family a lot. You love Saul but you miss Mystic Falls. It clouds your thoughts all through class and by the time you've finished, you're calling Damon to hear how everything is going.

"Hey," you say trying to keep your voice neutral.

"Hi stranger," he replies but you can tell he's busy judging by the sound of chatter in the background. That's when you remember it's family dinner night.

"I completely forgot. We'll talk later." You hang up before he has any time to respond. Your eyes sting but you refuse to cry. It's just tough being away from them all the time. You have more than enough here with Saul and Riven but you miss home.

"I know I'm not a mind fairy but the look on your face says more than enough. What's wrong?" Saul asks. He's just entered your shared bedroom and he looks ready to collapse after a long day.

"It's nothing. I just miss home." You wonder how big the twins have gotten by now and how Hope is doing. You hate to admit that as her godmother you haven't done a pretty good job at being there for her. You text constantly but it's not the same as seeing her. You had promised Klaus to take care of her before he sacrificed himself and then you moved to another realm.

"We could always go visit?" You lock eyes with him never having been more in love with him than right now. Saul has never visited Mystic Falls. Frankly, you'd been terrified to merge those two worlds but now you felt like you had to. You wanted him to know the people who had helped save you and been there as you grew into your own person.

"I'd love that."

"This looks pretty impressive." Saul is standing next to you by the gates of the Salvatore Boarding School looking in awe at the place. You know Alfea is a gorgeous place but it has nothing on the Salvatore mansion.

"Walk me through it again. Vampires, werewolves and witches all in one place?"

"Also, hybrids and tribrids which still doesn't really make sense to me but essentially that's the big three, yeah." You laugh a little as you watch the confusion cloud his face. You grew up here and you still struggled to understand all the stuff that happened.

"We're not staying here for long. Damon invited us over for dinner but I just wanted to stop by here." You keep a lookout for any familiar faces and much to your surprise you spot Hope locking lips with some curly-haired boy.

"Hope?" you exclaim. She is definitely not old enough to be dating and the sight makes you temporarily forget about Saul who's currently fighting the urge to draw out the dagger he always hides in his boot. The soldier in him is terrified of vampires and werewolves thinking of the horror stories he always heard as a child despite your reassurances that they were people the same as the fairies.

"Y/N?" Hope runs right into your arms not believing her own eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asks excitedly. Seeing her makes you realise just how much you've missed this place. You introduce her to Saul who's trying to take everything in and relax a little. You don't blame him. Hearing about vampires and werewolves is very different from actually being around them. Some vampires still give you the creeps even now.

"Thank you for coming," you whisper as Hope leads the way to Alaric's office. She's talking so much she doesn't even notice you saying anything. It's nice seeing her so happy and confident in herself compared to seeing her back in New Orleans. This school had really helped her.

"Here we are," she says stopping in front of a set of doors with Ric's name on it.

"We're staying for a few days. How about you ditch school tomorrow and tell me all about that lover boy I caught you with outside." Hope is quick to agree before heading back outside. It's nice seeing her happy. You know Klaus would've enjoyed it too.

"You ready?" He nods his head and you open the door to see Ric and the twins. It's a happy reunion adding to the feeling of missing out on everything.

"If you miss it so much, I've got a job opening? You could come to teach every other week to make your schedule work." Could it work? Could you have the best of both worlds? You look over at Saul who looks just as surprised as you. It would take some work and planning but you needed this.

"Do you think we could make it work?" you ask Saul hoping he'll say yes. Hoping he'll support you.

"I think you gave up a lot for me by moving to Alfea so it would only be fair that we made this work. Of course, we can make it work." He's still freaked out by the number of supernatural people running around here but he has to admit that it's pretty impressive they all manage to co-exist. He's eager to learn more about them and the history behind their existence. It's also a huge plus that he gets to see you happy.

"I guess my answer is yes then."

#winx saga #saul silva x reader #saul silva imagine #saul silva blurb #saul silva #winx saul silva #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #fate series #fate netflix #winx netflix #winx club #tvd fandom #tvd

80 notes · View notes

broadstflyers · 3 years

Text

A/N: I am so excited to be starting my first ever series. This is inspired by Taylor Swift’s “Cardigan” because her music creates stories in my head that I must write down on (digital) paper. Please keep in mind this chapter is written in past tense, and the story probably won't be in present tense for at least another few chapters. Let me know what you think! If you want to be on the tag list for the next chapter, or drop any (constructive) feedback, you can take this survey here.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: None

Summary: They say at fourteen you’re too young to know you’re in love. But what if you aren’t?

Navigation: chapter two

Grade: 9 Age: 14 --------------------------------- As sure as you are that spring comes after winter, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and seconds turn into minutes, you know you are in love with Joel Farabee. Not the gushy “I want to hug you and kiss you and never let you go” love, the intense “I want to burst at the seams because I just want to scream it on the rooftops and tell you and it literally crushes my heart that I can’t” love.

Yeah, that love.

The problem?

You were only fourteen when you knew.

Yes, the grand old age of fourteen. The age you were supposed to be nervously texting multiple boys, wondering if you were going to be asked to the ninth grade dance and worrying about who your first kiss was going to be, or even the first person you were going to hold hands with.

It started on the first day of school, but the start of it all was less than romantic. You shuffled up the hallway with one of your best friends, your feet felt like lead.

“What’s wrong?” Luna whispered in your ear.

“I really hate math,” you huffed. It was the last period of the day, eighth period, and you had to spend it in what was probably going to be a room full of rambunctious athletes who would be itching to burst out of the room at the very sound of the bell. How did you know this? Because you had been stuck in a class like that ever since the beginning of middle school. It made for some laughs, yes, but for some reason a pessimistic attitude bitterly swarmed around you in dark circles. Also, math in general made you anxious, and it didn’t help that the last few years you had to fend for yourself because of your lack of friends in said class.

“Well, at least you’ll have me this year,” Luna attempted to reassure you and your looming anxiety.

“Yeah, but I wonder who’s going to be in our class this year,” you mumbled. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies, but you’d rather call them icky moths.

Luna opened her mouth to respond, but you reached the door frame before her. Before you could even make it through the entrance, you made eye contact with a group of rowdy boys sitting at a table directly in front of you. You stopped dead in your tracks. They paused in their shouting to turn and look at you and Luna, since you were only about seven or eight feet away.

You scanned their faces, and you recognized most of them. They were mostly hockey players that played for the local team that looked for a shot at the NTDP in just a few short years. It was Syracuse, hockey was a pretty big deal there. There was also the prospective varsity quarterback and his star wide-receiver, these labels given to them at just fourteen. Of course, more athletes. Suddenly, you locked eyes with this boy you strangely have never seen before. His hand was hovering in air over his friend’s head with what you could only assume is his friend’s pencil in a lame attempt to keep him from grabbing it.

He blinked a few times, and you might have blinked a few times, you honestly couldn’t remember.

You snapped out of your trance and looked over to the board that said, “Welcome class! Pick your seats for the first day!”

“Hey,” Luna nudged you and grabbed your arm, “let’s sit over there.”

She lead you to a table adjacent to the boys’ table, despite your unheard protests of being “too close” to them.

You took your seat huffing, and you pulled out your binder and got ready for class, something you wished the crazy boys would pick up on. Thankfully the bell rang, your teacher shut the door, and class began.

That’s the first time you saw him. Not very eventful, but hey, you two were awkward fourteen year olds just entering grade nine. Of course things were not going to be all fireworks and love at first sight.

---------------------------------

A few classes went by, and the only disturbance that occurred was when the class was taking one of those horrible diagnostic tests. See, you really hated disturbances, interruptions, anything relating to that matter.

So when this dude named Joel (you learned his name when he was yelled at for playing rap music in the middle of class) started fooling around with his friend while you were trying to figure out why letters were in math now, you weren’t happy, to say the least.

And when he locked eyes with you and made a silly face, yours did not move in a rather unamused manner. You simply blinked and looked back down at your test.

You missed his face slightly fall, but it was short lived when the teacher yelled his name from across the room and made everyone jump ten feet. He was quiet after that.

---------------------------------

It was a random Tuesday in late October.

You and Luna were chatting about your previous classes, until you both stopped in your tracks and you raised an eyebrow. Everyone in your class was standing up and congregating away from tables. You could hear the ominous music creeping over everyone’s heads.

“Oh no,” you whined to Luna.

She winced. “We’re being assigned seats, aren’t we?”

You nodded. You both stood in the sea of kids and awaited your fate.

“Alright, everyone,” your teacher said. “You guys have been extremely chatty lately.” She paused to side-eye Joel and his friends.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly shut it when she frowned.

“So you leave me no choice, but I must assign seats,” she dramatically said as she unveiled the new seating chart on the board.

Everyone pushed and shoved to the front to see where their name lied in the cards of fate. You heard some soft celebrations and loud protests.

You nudged your way in and scanned up and down the board. Luna wasn’t at the same table, but she was sitting facing towards you at another table. Hopefully you and her would be able to make eye contact. You scanned until you see your name fall right next to someone who you would rather forget you treated so poorly. It was there in bright, bold red.

Joel Farabee.

“Aw man,” you and a voice said in unison. You looked up at your side to see that it’s him. Oh dear brother. Did you both just admit out loud that you don’t want to sit next to each other? You and him rolled your eyes at each other, huffing that you’ll be forced to be in each other’s presence.

And you knew he was thinking some sort of variation of what you were: how dare your teacher.

You trudged over to your seat and plopped down. He threw down his stuff and sat next to you. You could sense his extreme dislike for your rather serious demeanor. Hey, you could crack a smile.

Just not around him. And for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. It’s almost like if you did, you knew you would never stop...

You both avoided eye contact, you played with your pencil as he yelled to one of his friends across the classroom about some stupid video game.

And that’s just how it was for weeks. You’d both come in, sit down, he’d scream to his friends, you’d fight shooting him a really dirty look.

Until one day, you accidentally did. Now, later when you told Luna, you swore up and down you didn’t mean to, and it was just the fact that seventh period gym was terrible (but when was it not). Okay, so maybe you were fed up with him yelling about whatever rap song came out, or whatever Instagram model popped up on his feed (that made you shutter).

But what you did wasn’t really admittedly the nicest.

“Joel, do you always have to yell so freaking loudly?” you snapped.

He feigned a stunned expression, or maybe he really meant it, who knows what goes on in that boy’s seemingly empty head.

“Do you have to be such a downer…like all the time? Kinda ruins the vibe bro.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks Joel, because the number one thing I care about is ruining your ‘vibe’,” you put that word in air quotes, “and not getting any work done in this class, bro.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Look, you could benefit from loosening up a little, you know? You’re kind of just, not a fun person.”

A look of real hurt flashed across your face. One that he caught. “No,” you punctually state. Then you turn your seat so you completely have your back to him and you’re facing the board.

Meanwhile Luna and your table-mates watched the whole situation unfold. Okay, and maybe most of the class.

And when the bell rang and he called your name, you simply decided you didn’t hear it.

“He’s calling you,” Luna prodded.

You just shook your head as you continued down the hallway to the bus. On the bus, you had some thinking to do.

Did he really think of you as...boring? You usually didn’t let the immature words of boys get to you, but this, this really hurt.

---------------------------------

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Luna insisted that evening while lying on your bedroom floor that same Friday evening.

“Yes he did, and he’s kind of right,” you begrudgingly conceded. “I haven’t been the nicest to him,” you sigh into your hands, “and maybe I should be.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?” Luna curiously asked.

“I, I don’t know.”

---------------------------------

The following Monday, you winced and leaned into Luna as you approached the classroom. To say you were terrified is an understatement.

But you took a deep breath, held your head high, and locked your face into a neutral expression. You never let anyone get the best of you, and you weren’t going to let Joel out of all people be one of the first.

Luna offered a small sympathetic smile as she made her way to her seat.

Your heart beated out of your chest anticipating his arrival. Sure enough, you caught him out of the corner of your eye. He took his time and strutted around the room to talk to all the friends he had. He was obviously looking to avoid you, too.

Coward.

Eventually, he made his way to his seat. He cleared his throat, but you didn’t budge. Ever heard of being saved by the bell?

“I’m going to hand back everyone’s quizzes from last class,” your teacher announced. You audibly groaned. That quiz did not go well. Who puts diamonds and boxes and something called factoring in math?

Sure enough, she shoved a C- into your sweaty hands.

“Dang,” you whispered.

You glanced over at Joel’s paper. 100%.

Are you kidding me?

His prying eyes had the audacity to spot your C-, as if you didn’t pry on his paper seconds before.

“That’s rough,” he said, trying to make eye contact with you.

“I- um, yeah, it is,” you choked out with your eyes still glued on your paper.

His heart broke when he heard your wavering voice. He had to do something.

“Can I see it?” He quietly asked, when quiet usually isn’t typically his demeanor.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Uh, sure?”

He took the paper and started drawing stars around the C- mark, very messily, may you add.

You went to take the paper back, but he moved it away from your grasp.

“One second,” he pleaded. He stuck his tongue out in concentration.

You tried to see how badly he was defacing your quiz, but the position of his arm prohibited you from peering over to see.

“Done,” he proudly said as he slid the paper back over to you.

Instead of a plain old C-, there was now...a C- with stars around it.

“Joel, this is very lovely and all, but why the stars around the C-?”

He smiled with his sickeningly sweet toothless grin, and your heart absolutely backflipped into oblivion.

“That’s not a C-,” he goofily joked, “that’s the moon, y/n,” he said through a smile. “See it?”

You looked up from your paper and looked at him in the eye. Your hands shook from adrenaline, your heart was fluttering, goodness, you didn’t know how you could feel any lighter.

That smile was going to be the death of you.

“Yeah, Joel,” you cracked a smile, “I do see it. Thank you,” you sincerely said.

Crack a smile.

You cracked a smile.

His heart skipped a beat. He knew instantly he was going to do whatever it took to keep that smile on your face for as long as possible. He didn’t care what he would have to do.

He smiled once more, and he turned to his buddies to shield his face from you. He didn’t want you to see how red it was turning. He proceeded to explain to them how perfect his stars were and how no one could top them. Something along the lines of “Bro, you have to see this one, it’s so perfect bro…” He also told them how he made you feel better while slapping his chest, for some reason, as in yeah, I made the mopiest girl in school smile. He sounded like he was priding himself on it.

His smile, the way he talked about you, those freaking stars. You’d let him draw those all over your arm instead any day.

At that age, you may not have known why there were letters in algebra, but you knew that the way he made you feel wasn't the same as you did with your two other crushes back in middle school. This just felt...absolutely weird.

But absolutely right.

And that’s the story of how at just fourteen years old, you knew you were absolutely screwed.

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee x reader

73 notes · View notes