#because I've been writing this post in my head for the last several weeks and today it finally came out like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peanutpinet · 3 months

Note

haii! I saw that you request is open. i want to request with mafia!jaehyun x wife!reader. Jaehyun and your brother (johnny) are known have died, killed by their rivals. unknowingly you're having a child years later, and when the other group saw, they wanted to kill both of you.

suprisingly, you were saved by nct and you mad at them being shadows and hide themselves from you for years especially jaehyun and johnny. so, (especially) jaehyun and the others regaining your trust back and want to be a dad in your child live, you're slowly trust him and others again (maybe there's an incident or something that jaehyun almost being killed cause he saved you and/or child(?)). thank you

Back For You - Mafia! Jaehyun x Wife! Fem Reader (ft Older Brother Johnny)

HAPPY 2024 EVERYONE!! I HOPE THAT EVERYONE HAD A GREAT JANUARY (jokes on me for saying happy new year but posting this at the end of January) I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA BUT I was away for a 2-week holiday which took a lot out of me. Don't worry, I've tried to write a bit and while this isn't my best writing since I'm still trying things, I hope that the anon who requested this and those who are reading will still enjoy it!! Manifesting a better year for everyone!!

A/N: hi anon, thank you for requesting, it means a lot that you like my writing :(( coincidentally, I have been reading a few nct fics about the reader having the neos’ child but the neo never knew that they had a child. I do want to point out that this specific mafia story won’t be included in the mini mafia universe that I’ve made as the timeline doesn’t really match but I will make another Jaehyun mafia fic in the same mafia universe that I’ve created!

Also, to the anon who requested the Johnny & TY mafia, Jisung mafia, thank you guys for being patient but I am going through my requests (actually shocked I have several of requests because I didn't think my writing would be enjoyable without a smut sometimes). Also, also! TY's girl is making an appearance in the next two mafia fics and her name is Kim Eunji because I used this name for my translated version of TY's first mafia fic over on my Wattpad. Okay, onto the story!

Warnings: suggestive, angst, mentions of pregnancy and child birth, gunshots, blood, lil fluff

It took 5 years of trying to heal yourself from your loss. 5 years to finally be able to accept that it was now just you and your son, Yuno together. 5 years since your husband and brother, Jaehyun and Johnny respectively were reported to have died in a car accident. But those 5 years of acceptance and peace were soon ripped in a matter of seconds.

You were just picking up your son from daycare who was one of the last kids there because you had to finish your shift but when you had just arrived, you saw several black SUVs that came from around the corner.

At first you didn’t think much about it because you have never been associated with anything illegal nor have you done anything wrong in your life.

But right when you picked up your son and headed out, there were several men who came out of the SUVs and stopped in front of you and your son.

Instinctively, you held your son tighter to you as one of the men came towards you, mentioning a name that you have not heard in the past 5 years of your life.

“Are you Jung (Y/N), wife of Jung Jaehyun and younger sister of Johnny Suh?” one of the men questioned which made you wrap your arms around your son, your motherly instinct moved him behind you

“And who are you to ask?” you hissed but the man just chuckled until you noticed the other men surrounding you and your son

“We’d just like to ask you several questions about your husband and older brother. So if you would come with us and have a little chat…” the man mentioned, looking at your son. “We wouldn’t want the kid to see something that he wouldn’t want to see, now would we?”

“Mommy…” your son called out to you but you wouldn’t let him come out from behind you

“I don’t know how you know my name, my deceased brother and husband’s name but as far as I know, none of us have any association with people like you. And plus, like I’ve mentioned, my brother and husband are both dead. If there were any debts that they may have, their lawyer would’ve said something to me years ago” you tried your best to sound brave but in reality you feared what may happen to you and your son; especially when some of the men came closer

“You should come while we’re being civil” the man scoffed as he commanded the other men to take out some of their weapons as you shielded your son from the scene he might witness

But somehow, as if your husband has been protecting you even before your marriage, there were other men who came and took down all the men that were surrounding you before they could even do anything to you or your son.

Amongst the men who helped you, there was one with white/silver hair and black tint underneath. He walked past everyone and stood in front of you, his eyes was big but his eyebrows made him have a more strict look.

What he did next was what you didn’t expect. The man kneeled to your son’s level and even called him by his name. “Hey, you must be scared, aren’t you? I’m Taeyong. You can call me uncle Tae. I know your father very well. You have his dimples and eyes but have your mom’s smile. You’re a brave boy like your dad”

“You know Jaehyun?” You asked as Taeyong looked at you, his eyes turned soft and even looked like he was sorry when he stood back up to face you

“I think he and Johnny should be the one to tell you everything. I have no right to get in between family business” Taeyong mentioned while you stood in shock

“W-what do you mean that he and Johnny…” you stuttered but Taeyong continued before you got to finish your sentence. “They’re alive. Both of them. We found them 5 years ago, barely breathing and they were both in a coma for almost a whole year but enough of that, how about I…”

“How do I know that you’re not using them to get to me or something? For all I know you could be working with those people from before or something” you questioned, making Taeyong sigh until you heard the very voices that you thought you would never hear ever again

“(Y/N)!!!” You heard Jaehyun shout and turning around, you saw Jaehyun, your husband and Johnny, your older brother; both of whom you thought were dead were now in front of you

“H-hey, hey” Jaehyun came and held you in his arms, pulling you to his chest as you sobbed whereas Johnny came to hug his nephew

“Sssh, I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m alive. We’re alive” Jaehyun tried to calm you down but you broke down even more and hit his chest, pushing him away as your tears covered your vision

“How could you! Both of you!!” You screamed at both men who lied to you for the past 5 years. Both men whom you cherished close to you and mourned hard when you heard about their car crash and no bodies were found 5 years ago

“I cried for both of you. I mourned you both. I had to go through pregnancy and birth on my own. I did everything alone for the past 5 years. Y-you both don’t get to just waltz back in as if nothing happened” you cried, even falling to the ground as your son rush to your side, hugging you

“Sweetheart. Little flower” both Jaehyun and Johnny said at the same time, both coming closer but your son stood in front of you

“H-hey lil peach…” Jaehyun uttered, about to kneel down to your son’s height but just like Jaehyun, your son was overly protective of you ever since he was just 2 years old

“Go away” your son shouted as you tried to calm him but he kept on going. “Don’t make my mom cry”

“Lil peach, I’m not gonna…” Jaehyun tried to reach out to his own son but he was rejected. “No!!”

“You made my mom cry! I don’t want mommy to cry anymore!” Your son shouted but you quickly hugged him, calming him down. “Hey, hey. Jeong Yuno, what did mommy teach you?” you mentioned your son’s name, making Jaehyun tear up a bit because you named your son after his name

“Don’t shout at anyone. Don’t shout to your elders, okay? Especially your dad and uncle” you stroke your son’s head who looks at you with the same worried eyes as Jaehyun’s

“I don’t want you to cry anymore mommy. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t mommy sad. I want mommy happy” your son mentioned, making both Jaehyun and Johnny’s hearts clench

“Mommy’s not sad. Don’t worry, mommy’s okay” you cooed your son, hugging him close to you as you lift him up

“(Y/n)…” Jaehyun uttered, trying to reach for both you and your son

“Don’t…I, I can’t deal with this. I want to go home” you mentioned, your voice was clearly tired

“It’s not safe for you to go back home” Jaehyun mentioned. “Then where am I supposed to go Jaehyun?!” You argued back, Jaehyun clenching his fists

“We’ll take you back somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can find nor touch either of you. Somewhere I should’ve brought you to a long time ago” Jaehyun mentioned, directing to you one of the cars

“Little flower…” Johnny breathed but you walked past him, carrying your son tightly and protectively in your arms

“Know that I’m only going with you guys for my son’s safety and not because I’ve forgiven either of you just yet” you uttered, going into the car as Taeyong closed it before it went off

“Get some rest. Both of you. You can talk to her tomorrow” Taeyong mentioned, heading to his own car

“Hyung!” Jaehyun called out to Taeyong

“I told you that you both that you should’ve gone back to her back then. I kept my side of the promise and took care of her when you both went on that mission. But you broke your side of the promise to go back to her” Taeyong stated, looking at his two members

“I understand during the first year because you both were brutally injured from the accident but afterwards?” Taeyong reminded. “I don’t mean to butt into your family business but if either of you forgot, your wife and sister was pregnant and about to give birth when you guys were already awake from your coma. Regardless of your reasoning, both of you should’ve gone back to her. Losing two of your loved ones during pregnancy and birth is not easy and the fact that she went through all of that alone makes me respect her so much”

“I suggest you both discuss on your own. I can only do so much by ensuring her safety. You both already lost the past 5 years with her. Don’t lose her as well” Taeyong advised

Throughout the ride back to NCT’s penthouse, both Jaehyun and Johnny discussed how they were going to try and approach you. Johnny saying that he wants to approach you first because he is your only related family member left and he wants to make sure that you know he will always take care of you somehow.

But Jaehyun wanted the three of you to just sit down and talk so none of you misunderstood one another. Both Jaehyun and Johnny kept debating until they reached the room that Taeyong provided for you and your son.

Softly, Jaehyun knocked on the door, worried that he might accidentally wake you and your son but luckily you were still awake and answered the door.

Upon opening the door and seeing Jaehyun and Johnny, your first instinct was to shut it close but knowing both your husband and brother, you might as well talk it out with them and get it over with.

“What do you guys want?” you questioned, your voice coming out strong and rough, your eyes and nose were still red from all the crying

“Can we talk? The three of us. We owe you a full explanation about what happened and everything” Johnny mentioned, hoping that you’d give him and Jaehyun a chance to explain for themselves

“Not in here. I just put Yuno to sleep. He wouldn’t sleep until I fall asleep” you replied and hearing your reply, Jaehyun wanted to hug you and let you know that he never meant to leave you alone but he restrained himself until you finally accepted his apology and allowed him to be back in both you and your son’s life

“Let’s go next door then, it’s my room” Johnny suggested and you nodded in agreement

You came to find out that your room was situated between Johnny and Jaehyun’s room with Johnny being right next door and Jaehyun across your room.

Inside Johnny’s penthouse, you were welcomed with the modern but minimalistic interior with several additions of rare collectables which you knew your brother had been very fond of since young. You took in his entire place until you saw several framed pictures of him, Jaehyun, some of their other friends and even with you framed in the center amongst the other pictures.

“Do you still like your tea with 90% milk and sugar?” Johnny asked, already at the pantry, brewing up your favourite tea for you

“Yea, I can’t have too much caffeine during the night anyways” you replied, accepting the tea from your brother

“So, you guys going to explain yourselves on leaving me for the past 5 years?” you questioned, looking down at your husband and brother who sat across you

To say you were speechless was definitely an understatement because as much as you tried to understand their point of views, you became angrier than before. Ever since your brother was in high school, he had already been in the mafia and as for your husband, Jaehyun officially became apart of it when he almost graduated high school.

Not only were they able to keep this secret life from you for the past 10+ years, but the fact they also hide themselves for the past 5 years all because they were scared to face you when they were still injured just didn’t make sense to you.

“What the fuck do you mean that you were scared to face me?!” you shouted, standing up from the sofa, angry at both your brother and husband

“Flower, we wanted to back to you, I swear. We were just caught up with other things…” Johnny tried to reason. “We were both badly injured and barely able to process anything…”

“But you got back up. You could’ve come to me. Your friends could’ve said something. I want to understand you but I can’t. Do you know how hard it was when I found out I was pregnant but before I could tell either of you, I saw your car crash on the news. I almost lost my baby. I almost lost my son that day too if it weren’t for your mom coming over to visit me early in the morning” you rambled on, making both Johnny and Jaehyun even more guilty

“Does your mom even know, Jaehyun?” you asked but received no answer from him

“I’m leaving” you let out which made both Johnny and Jaehyun immediately stood up, blocking your way

“I mean I’m leaving this room and going back to see my son. I can’t be in the same room with either of you right now” I pointed out, about to head to the door but a hand grabbed my wrist and from the touch, I knew that it was Jaehyun

“(y/n)…dimple…” Jaehyun let out that nickname he used to call me those years ago

The nickname that he gave me because he would always mention how he consider me as his dimple because his dimple is a part of him and he would always consider me as a part of him. I believed it, until he disappeared and reappeared back.

“Don’t call me that, Jeong” I hissed back, tears were threatening to spill again

“I swear I wanted to come back to you. Both me and Johnny. Me especially. I know what we did was horrible towards you and I’m not asking you to forgive and accept us back immediately but I just hope…” Jaehyun sighed. “I hope that you would at least let me into Yuno’s life. Let me be the father and husband I should’ve been all those years that I was gone”

Immediately, you ripped your arm away from Jaehyun and looked at him with anger and frustration. “You both got badly injured during and needed a year to fully recover fine. Your friends/members not coming to tell me anything about you because it’s classified, fined. But not telling your own mother and letting her, me and our son to believe that you were dead is beyond me. I don’t need words, Jeong. Neither does Yuno. All we wanted was for you to be there but you weren’t. You’re basically 5 years too late”

“I know” Jaehyun let out a shaky breath. “I, we, didn’t mean to lie to you and not come back sooner. We wanted to tell you but we were just waiting for the right time because we wanted to protect you long enough until we weren’t heavily involved anymore”

“Protect? Protecting me from those who were against you or protecting yourself from what might happen if you had told me before you disappeared?” you sighed

“You know what hurts more? Not when I lost both of you and almost lost Yuno that day. But the fact that I can’t hate either of you. I want to hate you both but I can’t. Because I know what it feels like growing up without a parent figure. I tried so hard to be that parent figure for Yuno but I could never replace his dad” you said, making Jaehyun more hopeful

“Don’t think that I’ve forgiven either one of you just yet. But I’m not as cruel as you to not see Yuno or try to be the father and uncle he should’ve had since he was born” you opened the door, ready to go back to your son. “I’m saying that you both can try your best to come back to our lives, but I can’t guarantee that either one of us would accept you. You might be the father Jaehyun but I was the one that took care of him the past 5 years and from what you’ve seen, our son doesn’t even consider you his dad even when I’ve told him and showed him pictures of you. Good night, Jaehyun, Johnny”

You left both men to the quiet and chill room with the loud noise of their own thoughts and guilt.

Despite leaving both Jaehyun and Johnny on a bad note, the two accepted your anger and instead, hearing you let out your own emotion fueled them to try their best to do whatever it took to get both you and Yuno’s apology.

The next morning, right when you were about to leave and bring Yuno to daycare, both Jaehyun and Johnny were right in front of your door as you came out with your son.

“Geezus, can you guys not this early in the morning?!” you sighed as your son gripped your hand tighter

“Sorry. We didn’t want to disturb your morning so we waited out here. But we got some breakfast sandwiches for both of you and caramel latte for you” Jaehyun mentioned, handing you the bag which you accepted

“Thanks. If there isn’t anything else, I really need to go and take Yuno to daycare and I also need to go to work” you mentioned, about to walk past both men but they stopped you before you could take another step

“What is it this time?” you asked, raising your eyebrow

“Sorry lil sis, I don’t think you should be going to work anymore” Johnny said, making you scoff. “You might be my older brother but you don’t have the rights to tell me what I can or cannot do”

“Johnny’s right (y/n). Those men the other day know who you are. It would only take time before other people would find you or Yuno and neither me nor Johnny wants that to happen again” Jaehyun replied, looking at you with those damn worried eyes

“If I don’t work then how am I supposed to afford a living?” you argued, challenging both Johnny and Jaehyun

“We’re both here now. We’ll fund everything. Especially me. I’m going to fun for both you and Yuno. I want to be the father that Yuno deserves to have. You can push me or Johnny away as much as you want but we will still try to squeeze ourselves back into both of your lives” Jaehyun mentioned and hearing his tone, you know how stubborn Jaehyun is going to be

Sighing, you agreed to not go to work and let your boss know that you have to quit so suddenly because of a family issue.

“Fine. I won’t go to work. But I’m not going to let my…”

“Our son” Jaehyun mentioned, making you roll your eyes. “Our son not go to school” you finished your sentence while Jaehyun kneeled down to Yuno’s height

“Of course not. I’ll take him to school and wait until his school ends” Jaehyun mentioned, smiling at Yuno, his dimples showing

But when Jaehyun took his hand out, trying to convince Yuno to come with him, Yuno shook his head. “No. I want to go with mommy”

“Lil peach…your mommy and uncle need to have a chat and I want to get to know you more” Jaehyun tried to convince him but Yuno stood his ground, gripping onto your leg

“Hey, hey lil bud” you mumbled, kneeling to your son’s height, holding his small hands in yours. “What did mommy tell you before?”

“Give daddy a chance” both you and Yuno said at the same time, making Jaehyun want to tear up knowing that despite what he did, you still taught your son to give him a chance

“That’s right lil bud. What happened to mommy shouldn’t be the reason for you to not give your daddy a chance. Also, it’s a good way to know if he’s actually making an effort. Plus, mommy needs to talk to uncle Johnny, okay? When you come back, mommy is going to make your favourite food, braised beef with toppokki” you mentioned, Jaehyun almost choked on his saliva hearing his son’s favourite food being the same as his

“Okay mommy” Yuno mumbled, looking over at Jaehyun who still offered his hand and slowly grabbed it

“I promise that I’ll keep him safe” Jaehyun mentioned, standing back up, softly holding his son’s hand

“On scratch on his body or any drop of blood, I will end you, Jeong” you threatened, kissing your son’s cheek as he kissed yours before letting Jaehyun take your son to daycare

Jaehyun’s POV

On the way down to my car, Yuno didn’t say a word and even when we were in the elevator, out of (y/n) and Johnny’s sight, Yuno let go of my hand which confused me.

“Lil peach…” I let out but Yuno’s reply shocked me. “Yuno. That’s my name. Not lil peach. Only mommy gets to call me other names”

“Okay, Yuno. Can you tell me why you let go of my hand?” I asked as the elevator opened to the car park and I directed him to my car

“Because even though mommy says you’re my daddy, you’re not” Yuno mentioned, getting into the car without my help

After closing the door to Yuno’s side, I went into mine and saw that he already put his seatbelt on his own. “Damn, this kid is too smart for a 5-year-old,” I thought to myself as I drove off

“Why would you say that I’m not your daddy?” I asked

“Because you hurt mommy. You made mommy cry” Yuno mentioned. “You might be my daddy but if you hurt mommy, you’re not my daddy. Wait until I grow up and I will be the only guy that mommy needs”

“You should know that without me, you wouldn’t exist. You can try all you want but I will win your mom back and then let’s see who the guy will come out on top” I scoffed, disbelieved at my own son’s words to me

“You can try but you’re no one to mommy. You’re not related by blood unlike me. You don’t know mommy like I do. You don’t know how hard mommy tries to be strong to take care of me. You don’t know that mommy likes to talk about you. You don’t know that mommy talks nice things about you but to me, you still hurt mommy. Especially when you came back” Yuno mentioned, making me grip the steering wheel harder

“H-Has your mommy been seeing someone else? Another guy?” I asked, being selfish and hoping that (y/n) hadn’t seen anyone else

“No. Though lots of guys have been trying to talk to her but when I ask mommy, she always mentions you” Yuno admitted, making me sigh with relief

“I won’t leave you both again. Especially your mom. I love her so much that I want to come back and take care of her. And you” I mentioned, parking by the daycare, looking at Yuno

“Why are you looking at me?” Yuno asked

“Because I need your help” I mentioned

Your apartment - Your POV

After Jaehyun left with Yuno, Johnny wanted to immediately talk but I told him that I wanted to grab several things from my previous apartment. Johnny agreed and he drove us to my old apartment.

“What actually happened since you found out that we were involved in an accident?” Johnny asked, his voice sounded nervous as we walked into my apartment

“Lots of things happened, John. I almost lost Yuno. I had to sell our old house to have enough money to live for a year or so since both of your accounts sacred and I only had the joint account with Jaehyun but even that, somehow, the account was frozen so after Yuno turned 1, I had to look for a job since I didn’t want to burden Jaehyun’s parents who were both already at old age” I explained, recalling one of the most traumatic moments in my life

“I’m sorry sis. We both are, really” Johnny let out

“I was lucky Jaehyun’s parents were still around. We were all sad at what happened to both of you. Did Jaehyun ever go back to his parents?” I asked but Johnny shook his head

“He was scared. We both were. When Taeyong and the others couldn’t find us, they froze our accounts, everything linked to us. Of course not your or his parents’ personal accounts. That’s how your joint account was frozen” Johnny explained

“What could have possibly scared the two of you more than me and Jaehyun’s parents getting angry at both of you?” I questioned, about to blow a fuse at my confusing brother for his reasoning but Johnny sushed me

“What is it now, John…”I let out but we both hear unfamiliar voices

“I thought you said that you saw that clueless bitch and somehow alived brother walking past here just now” an unknown man stated, making you worry and looked at Johnny who looked pissed

“(y/n), go into your room” Johnny looked at me, his hand was by his waist and I could see him holding a gun. “Now”

I didn’t need to be told twice and rushed to my room, locking it and as I was about to get under my bed, I heard a loud gunshot followed by several grunts. Not wanting to listen to all the noise outside, I decided to call the only other person that could manage to calm me down.

“Hello? (Y/N)” Jaehyun’s voice was a bit taken aback that I called him

“Jae…” I let out

“Where are you? Where’s Johnny? What happened?” Jaehyun asked, his voice was worried

“I’m at my old apartment. Johnny…” I was about to reply but heard another gunshot. “Johnny’s outside, there are some people that I don’t know of”

“Dimple…I’m sorry that you have to go through this two days in a row but one things for sure, we won’t let you be alone anymore. Talk to me dimple, tell me how you’re feeling” Jaehyun replied

“How are you so calm? What if something happens to Johnny and…I can’t lose either one of you again” you replied back

“It’s part of our job, dimple and you’re not going to lose either one of us again. What happened 5 years ago is a one time only. It won’t happen again. Me and Johnny will make sure of it” Jaehyun ensured me

“How’s Yuno? Did he cause any problems for you?” I asked, trying to get my mind off what was happening outside

“No problems at all. He just told me some things, that’s all. You really taught him well, didn’t you. He even stood up against his own father for his mom” Jaehyun joked

“That’s because he didn’t know you like I did” I replied

“And how did you know me, hmm?” Jaehyun teased, making me roll my eyes

Luckily, before I have to reply him, I heard Johnny called out to me. “(y/n)? Are you alright in there?”

“Johnny’s calling. I’ll um talk to you later then Jae. Don’t forget about Yuno” I told him but heard giggling. “Don’t worry about him. Go, Johnny’s going to get worried”

Turning off the call, I opened the door and saw Johnny who looked a bit tired but relieved. Immediately, I hugged him as he hugged back. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me. You’re okay, right?”

“I’m okay. W-what happened out there?” I asked but Johnny shook his head

“Nothing you should worry about. Come on. I’ll help you grab the things you need and we can head back” Johnny mentioned

It didn’t take long to take almost all the things because apparently, Johnny had called some of his friends to come and help us bring some of mine and Yuno’s things back to the penthouse.

Arriving back at the penthouse, Johnny and his friends helped me unpack some of my things and during the tidying up, we heard a ring to the door and Johnny opened it to let Jaehyun and Yuno in. Yuno immediately went up to me and I hugged him.

“Did you have a good day today?” I asked as Yuno nodded and took something out of his backpack, which was a drawing

“My teacher told us to draw something that makes us happy and I draw you being happy even if it’s with daddy and uncle” Yuno mentioned and I looked at the drawing he did

It was a simple kids drawing but knowing our history, it meant a lot that Yuno somehow is slowly accepting both Jaehyun and Johnny in his life even though they have been absent in both our lives for the past 5 years.

Sometime during the rest of the day, you and Jaehyun decided to cook together and after dinner, the two of you were doing the dishes together; reminiscing the times you both were in college and cooking in the small tiny dorms whilst Johnny and Yuno were getting to know each other.

“How did you manage to get Yuno to talk to you and actually like you?” you asked, waiting for the water to boil as Jaehyun was leaning on the counter after washing some of the dishes

“I wouldn’t say that he has completely accepted me but we managed to talk. He’s very smart for a 5-year-old” Jaehyun mentioned

“I know. I worry about him. I don’t want him to mature quickly just because of the situation. I want him to have a normal childhood where he’s loved and can have fun for as long as he can” you mentioned, looking over at Yuno who was actually having fun with Johnny

“(Y/N)” Jaehyun called out to me, making me look at him as he grabbed my hands in his; an act that he always did whenever he wanted to talk about something serious

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for both of you the past 5 years. I’m sorry I was a coward for not going back to both of you sooner and I’m sorry that I can’t turn back time to change all that because I know I would do anything to go back and be with the both of you. Especially you. I should’ve been there to take care of you. I should’ve been there to protect you. I should’ve been there to feel the pain you’ve felt because it was nothing compared to mine” Jaehyun mentioned, kissing the top of your hands, another habit that he likes to do to calm your nerves

“Jae…” you breathed out but Jaehyun didn’t let you continue. “Would you allow me and Johnny back? I know that it’s going to take a lot more to make up for the times we’ve lost but I’m willing to do anything for the both of you and…”

Kiss This time, you were the one that didn’t let Jaehyun continue and landed a soft kiss on his cheek, whilst caressing his jawline with one of your hands.

“You know that I hate all the bullshit talk. You might as well show me how sorry you are” you challenged Jaehyun who felt a sense of relief wash over him

But before you and Jaehyun could continue anything, both Johnny and Yuno came up to both of you. “Umm, sorry to disturb but I’m gonna take the lil guy back to my place” Johnny mentioned and Jaehyun was internally screaming thank you because he finally got to have some alone time with you after 5 years

“Do you need anything or any snacks bub?” you asked your son who just shook his head

“I’m okay, mommy. I wanna play some games with uncle Johnny!” Yuno exclaimed, making you giggle

“Alright. But don’t stay up too late. Go grab your pyjamas and backpack. Johnny, I trust you won’t be irresponsible. He has school tomorrow” you mentioned, looking up at your brother who just shrugged whilst your son rushed to his room

“I won’t. But I’m not so sure about you both so that’s why I’m offering to take care of the lil guy while you both sort things out together” Johnny snickered making you smack his arm while your son comes back, already wearing his backpack

“Bye mommy!!” your son greeted you as you went down to his height and he kissed you on your cheeks

“You behave alright. Don’t trouble uncle Johnny” you reminded as he smiled

“I promise don’t worry” your son replied and he went towards Jaehyun who also kneeled to his height. “Don’t make mommy cry!”

“I won’t lil peach. If she cries it’s because of a movie or something else” Jaehyun mentioned, making you smack his head. “You see. Your mom will kill me before I hurt her anyways”

Shaking his head, your son went over back to you and hugged you before going to grab Johnny’s hands, the two bidding both of you and Jaehyun goodbye.

“I should really get you and him to have more father and son outings before he really rebels against you” you mumbled while Jaehyun went behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on the crook of your neck, giving it light kisses

“It’s alright. You’ve taught him well enough. He’s looking out for his mom anyways” Jaehyun murmured, sucking on your skin, making you moan as you let your head fall back

“I’ll teach him more though. If you’ll let me. I know that you’re worried but I’m more worried if something were to happen to both of you and I wasn’t around” Jaehyun sighed but you turned around, your hands wrapped around his neck

“I trust you Jae. You maybe a dick for leaving us for 5 years but you promise to make up for it. Then do it. Make up for your lost time with us. Treat us how you’re supposed to treat us those psat 5 years” you challenged him again

Without warning, Jaehyun lifted you up, forcing your legs to wrapped around his waist as he turned you around, making your back hit the wall as he captured your lips to his; one of his hand cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss between you.

When the two of you pull away and looked at each other, the two of you giggle just like when you were in college, sneaking around to make out with each other.

“Shall we continue it here or do you want the bed?” Jaehyun asked but you kissed him instead

“Anywhere Jeong. Just proof to me that you’re not leaving us again. I can’t deal with another loss” you cried but Jaehyun quickly shushed you

“You won’t. I’m promise. I came back for both of you and I’m staying for both of you. I’m sorry, dimple. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed you so fucking much” Jaehyun kissed your temple, each of your eyes, the tip of your nose and then your lips

Each kiss makes you bring him closer to you as you cried on his chest while he cradles your body. “It’s okay. Let it out” Jaehyun knows that he can make up for all the intimate and sexual needs later and what’s important is to make sure is to tend your needs. Whatever you want or need, Jaehyun will do it.

When you finally relaxed in Jaehyun’s arms, you looked at him again with glossy eyes but to Jaehyun, you’re just as adorable as he remembers. Smiling and flashing his dimples, Jaehyun leaned down to give a softer kiss to your lips but you were the one that craved more.

“Someone’s eager. Bed?” Jaehyun asked but all you could do was nod

Immediately, Jaehyun carried you bridal style just as he did the night of your wedding when Jaehyun carried you to your bedroom.

Because of your motherly sense, you woke up earlier than you would have liked and went to the kitchen, slowly removing Jaehyun’s big arms. When you got to kitchen to make breakfast and check your phone, Johnny already texted you that he already took your son to kindergarten and told you to just rest.

Johnny: I took the kid to kindergarten already. We got some breakfast sandwich along the way and I’m gonna wait for him. You have fun with Jae ;)

You smile as you read the text, not realising that Jaehyun was eyeing you from the corner until you turned to see him leaning towards the wall with only his sweatpants, his chest was still bare from last night’s activities.

“Geezus. Can’t you at least knock. You’re going to make me have a heart attack” you exclaimed, making Jaehyun chuckle as he went next to you, kissing the side of your temple before backhugging you as you attempt to make breakfast

“I wouldn’t dream of it” Jaehyun murmured

The two of you just enjoyed each other’s company whilst making breakfast together until Jaehyun asked you a question that he wanted to ask. “Dimple” Jaehyun called out, making you look at him

“Why didn’t you get mad at me? Why didn’t you make me suffer more and longer? I deserved it you know. 5 years is a long time and not to mention for 9 months you were pregnant and had to raise Yuno on your own with my parents for the next few years. You could’ve made me beg for the next 5 years but you didn’t, why?” Jaehyun asked, making you blink a few times before going to stand in front of him, cupping his jaw in your small hands

“I’m disappointed. Not angry. There’s a difference. I’m still disappointed in you and Johnny but I know that there’s no point in staying angry for too long. Yes, I still don’t fully understand the world you guys are in but I know that it’s not easy at all and you both tried your best to take care of me and Yuno however you can. Let me ask you back. When Yuno turned 3 and I received an email from the bank that our joint account was not frozen anymore, it was you, wasn’t it? When I was struggling to pay the bills and suddenly the landlord said it was all cleared for the next year, it was you, right? When Yuno was sick and there was medicine in the mail, it was from you, wsn’t it?” you asked, and Jaehyun held your hand, rubbing it

“I was a coward. I helped you but I didn’t have the strength to face you. You should hate me” Jaehyun mentioned

“But I don’t because I know that when it comes to family, you would never forget us no matter what. I’m still hurt and need reassurance but I want us to be a family again. Only if you promise to be better” you replied and Jaehyun immediately kisses you

Pulling away for a moment, Jaehyun caresses your face and lets his forehead rest on yours as both your noses touch each other. “I fucking love you, you know that? I promise I’ll be better for you and Yuno. I’m officially back for both of you”

177 notes · View notes

fatesundress · 11 months

Text

⭑ made with love. draco malfoy x reader

summary. it's winter, you’re sick, and draco is extremely rational a terrible, doting mess about it.

tags. fluff! so much fluff! married couple, gn!reader, lots of banter, post-hogwarts with one fleeting mention of the war, draco's anxiety is whetted by a common cold, he basically treats the reader like they hung the moon in the sky and also have the power to yank it down at any given moment. he's very grumpy. but so so in love.

note. my sweet anons!! i tried on three separate occasions to write the requests in my inbox but sometimes i need to be in the depths of hell (ovulation week) to manage smut. i'm sorry. i've made some progress i swear! but the draco hyperfixation came out of NOWHERE and unfortunately i had to indulge in it. also thank you so much for 200! :’)

word count. 1.6k

You are deplorable.

With a fever temperature of 40° and explicit instructions to stay in bed, you’re discernibly not in bed when he makes it home from the apothecary, a jumbled mess of the blankets he’d swathed you in left in your place. Your slippers are absent. Your slippers — in two feet of snow. Your coat is gone too, at least; ridiculously thick and unnecessarily long, though now he’s thankful for it.

Draco paces. Then he sets the Pepperup Elixir over a flame at his desk to keep warm, pours two drops of Sleeping Draught into a mug for your tea, and paces again.

He should have insisted on binding rings for your wedding, he thinks. Something to trace you in emergencies. There’s little to do without them as you’ve evidently either taken the Floo or Apparated, and, in truth, he can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. In school, perhaps? During the war? You have him comparing his nerves over a bad cold to those he felt during war. The insanity of that is actually not lost on him, if that counts for anything.

But you are deplorable, and his. His almost as much as he is maddeningly, irremediably yours.

How he allowed an aliment like this to infect him goes against all evolutionary sense. It’s a fever of its own. Incurable despite knowing its cause, and probably festering worse than yours.

And then the fireplace hisses and out you stumble with soot on one cheek and frost on the other, the neck of your coat zipped up to swallow half of your face. In an arm shoved deep in your pocket, a bag swings from the puffy coat crease of your elbow, and Draco baulks. It’s a muggle grocery bag — translucent enough that he can see the square imprint of your favourite sleepy-time tea, a chocolate bar, cans of what he thinks are soup, and — a lemon? Yes. A big miserable lemon that you’ve deigned was worth almost killing yourself over.

Draco does not hear whatever excuses escape your chattering teeth as he plucks your hand from its pocket, puts the bag down, pulls off your coat while you slap at his hands and insist you can do it yourself, and only because he thinks you’d hex him to oblivion if he tried, leads you with a hand on your back to the bedroom rather than hauling you into his arms and carrying you.

“A lemon,” he says, and is aware by the severity of his tone he might as well be saying a gun, or a missile, or a milk crate of Living Death cartons. “You forayed into a snowstorm for a lemon. Do you think I’m incapable of reading a grocery list? I just Flooed —”

“I got more than a lemon,” you huff in a weak voice.

It is appalling that that’s what you take from his admonishment.

Your snow-soaked slippers are tossed aside as you tumble into bed. Draco bundles you in blankets and holds his wand out to take your vitals. You roll your eyes all the while, but once the cold wears off he’s sure you’ll be burning hotter than you were this morning.

He shakes his head. “Lemons are common stock in apothecaries, you know. The shavings are essential in Weedosoros antidotes.”

“Yes, but they’re always so dry.”

“And chocolate — they sell it at Téa’s across the street for the magizoologists. Did you know that?”

“Hmph. No Cadbury, though.”

“And I’ve already warmed the Pepperup and poured you Sleeping Draught, despite your urgency for this —” He pulls the box of tea from your grocery bag, impressed with an image of a little bear with a red nightcap, a steaming cuppa, and a plate of biscuits — “Inarguably superior muggle panacea —”

“I never claimed it was a panacea —”

“Of which we should have distributed to St. Mungo’s en masse. In fact, I should owl them now so they’re informed the Sleeping Draughts are ineffective by comparison —”

“You’re insufferable —”

“Imagine all the orphans without rest —”

“Actually ridiculous —”

“You’re ridiculous. And I hate this bear. Look at his hat. Bloody Gryffindor.”

“Do you know what the wizarding world is lacking? — If you’re concerned enough to make a donation, Mr Malfoy?”

You think it’s hilarious to call him that. He does well not to mention you are, by law, also a Malfoy, and his money is your money to donate as you please.

“What is that?”

“Soup,” you say. “Canned soup — canned with love.”

“We are lacking soup canned with love,” Draco repeats, just to be sure.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be sure to write the Minister.”

“Do.”

“Only if you stay in bed.”

“Hmmm… mmmm… well. Hm.”

“Incorrigible,” he mumbles, brushing the damp from your face before getting up to fix your tea. (He kisses your cheek for good measure, big sop that he is. You do well not to mention it.) “Don’t move or I’ll cast wards on the fireplace.”

“Oh! Cast wards on the doors, too. I might go for a walk.”

He glares at you from the archway. Your answering laugh is broken by a coughing fit, and you look reluctantly glum when he raises a told-you-so brow.

Draco mutters about how ridiculous you are through the kitchen and back, as he steeps your tea, heats your soup, unstoppers the Pepperup Elixir, pours it in an old shot glass from a trip to Italy (you have no graduated plastic cups lying around), squeezes the big stupid lemon in your tea, carries it all to your bed on a tray and realises, still muttering, that these are a lot of steps. But Draco balances the tray without an utterance of magic. It’s rather impressive. You should be sorely sorry.

You are, instead, asleep.

You’re splayed across the bed like something Baroque, limbs fascinatingly posed: half under the blankets and half stubbornly poking out despite his fervent tucking, head nuzzled into the pillow with a slight frown. If Draco were any better with a camera he’d take a picture. Instead he takes careful steps to your bedside, placing the tray on the nightstand and sitting as close as he can manage without disturbing the (once more, revolutionary) arrangement of your legs. It feels criminal to wake you. His fretful anger that you’d gone out in the cold is whittled to a humiliatingly thin and empty husk, and all that remains is mushy adoration. Damn you for that; you look ridiculous anyhow.

Draco kisses your cheek again. Your nose. Your forehead. He traces an invisible portrait of your face with his fingers, as if he’s ever drawn anything better than nasty stick figures on crumpled parchment in school. You, though, he thinks he knows well enough by memory to try.

You stir, not too far from consciousness that it’s a challenge to find it again, but far enough to be audibly vexed by his summons to the surface.

Draco means to berate you in that way he's so good at — chin pointed and scowl permanently etched — but you grumble with a sick, hoarse voice and he falters in a pathetic display. “You forgot your love-suffused muggle soup,” he whispers, one hand cupping your cheek.

“Ugh.”

“Heinous, I know. Sit up for me?”

“Magic word.”

There’s his scowl. “Alohomora.”

“Not that magic word.”

“Imperio.”

“Unforgivables, Draco Malfoy?”

“Hmm, Locomotor Wibbly?”

You sink further into the bed, pulling the uppermost blanket over your head inch by inch.

“Please,” he says, with profound displeasure.

You sit up and smile.

Draco sighs and lays the legs of the tray out over your lap. You regard his service with sleepy content, one of your hands travelling to his face in what his heart surges to appreciate is an honest thanks after his several near-heart attacks, and then your gaze finds the medically expert Pepperup in an Italian shot glass and it falls.

You groan. “Draco…”

His name says, quite plainly, please don’t make me.

Draco has enough self-respect to at least deny you this. “Wards.”

That says, quite plainly, I was not joking about the fireplace.

You look as though you’re contemplating the severity of two horrors, but it passes fleetingly, with one curse under your breath and a sour expression as you down the shot of Pepperup like… a shot. Burning Ogden’s that scrunches your face up until you shake it away with a blagh noise.

Come to think of it, Draco's choice of glass is much more appropriate than some medical cup.

“Better?”

You shudder. “I will be.”

“Good. Have your love soup and stupid lemons.”

And then, when he isn’t expecting it, your hot palm finds the place it left off; Draco’s healthily warm, sharp cheek, the soft fuzz of hair beside his ears before your fingers card through the longer strands and you hum like he’s your favourite thing to hold onto.

He melts, eyes fluttering shut. You’re sick, and wholeheartedly deplorable, but you’re safe, and it’ll be alright.

“Draco?”

“Mm.”

“The soup.”

He opens his eyes. “The soup?”

“You know it was canned with love.”

“I trust you wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.”

“And,” you say, thumb flush over his bottom lip as you smile a groggy, self-satisfied smile, “it was made with love, too, right?”

He rolls his eyes, and kisses you nonetheless. “You never cease to ask absurd questions.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

829 notes · View notes

tigertales9 · 5 months

Text

Hard Reset VIII

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut / Fluff

Description: This fic covers the trip to fall fest, plus a little before & after, during the bye week secret honeymoon.

Time/Place: Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2023 / the lakehouse + fall fest

A/N: This is the eighth fic in the Hard Reset series.

I had a lot of fun writing this fall fest chapter. I actually had a few more ideas, but I nixed them because it was getting too long. I have one more lakehouse/honeymoon chapter to post after this, and then we'll be heading back to the city. I'm really busy right now due to the holidays, but I'll try to have the next installment up in the next week or so.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The smell of coffee entices you awake the next morning; you stretch your deliciously sore, nude body under the soft sheets before fluttering your eyes open, smiling at Joe as he leans over you holding a large cup of coffee, a twinkle in his eyes as he blows coffee fumes in your direction.

"What are you doing?" you laugh, pushing up into a sitting position and making a half-ass effort to tame your bedhead.

"I knew if you smelled this coffee you'd wake up," he gloats, obviously proud of himself for being right.

"Well, it smells amazing," you groan, making grabby hands at the oversized cup. "Thank you," you sigh, taking a small sip to gauge the heat level. You lick your lips in appreciation and take another sip while looking at the logo on the side of the cup. "The Cove Café," you read out loud, recognizing it as the one-stop-shop type of place -- conveniently located just across the lake -- that specializes in coffee, pastries, sandwiches, smoothies and gelato. "Did you get it delivered?"

"Yeah. The delivery guy came by boat since it's only about five minutes instead of twenty minutes by car on these curvy, winding roads. I met him down at the dock."

"It's still nice and hot," you state, shivering a little as you warm both hands on the cup and take another sip.

"Are you cold?" Joe asks.

"A little."

He whips his long sleeve t-shirt off and hands it to you, holding your coffee cup while you shimmy into it. "Better?" he asks, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips before handing your cup back to you.

"Much better, thanks."

"Good." He stares at you for several heartbeats, his expression hard to read in the dim light.

"What are you thinking?" you eventually ask.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. "You know last night when we saw the shooting star or possible UFO?"

"Yeah."

"And you said you didn't wish for anything because you already have everything you want?"

"Yeah," you repeat, slightly concerned at the intense look on his face.

"Were you talking about me? Because I thought you were, but then I kind of talked myself out of it and …"

"Of course I was talking about you," you soothe, brushing your fingers through his tousled curls while giving him a smile. "You're everything I've ever wanted and more."

"Okay, good," he mutters, giving you a sheepish smile. "Just wanted to make sure." He breaks eye contact and fiddles with his wristbands as he continues. "I've been worried that I might have rushed you into this secret marriage thing."

"You didn't rush me at all," you assure him. "I wanted this just as much as you."

"That's hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it."

You try to think of something to say to reassure him, your mind landing on a thought from last night. "Remember when you said there's no place in the world you'd rather be than right here with me?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"I got a little distracted by your sexy self before I could tell you this, but I had that exact same thought earlier in the night. Like the exact same. It's almost like you read my mind."

"That's really cool," he grins, leaning forward to give you a kiss. "We've always been on the same wavelength." He gives you a playful wink before hopping up and heading for the door. "I'm gonna turn the heat up a bit and grab a couple things. Be right back."

You enjoy your caramel-flavored coffee for a few minutes before raising a hand to brush your hair out of your face, the motion causing you to catch a whiff of Joe's scent on the t-shirt you're wearing; you grab a handful of material and bring it to your nose, inhaling deeply as a throb of arousal kicks off in your core. "Absolutely not," you grumble, looking down at your sheet-covered lap as you continue. "Plenty of time for that later. Plus, you're still a little sore from last night so behave yourself. "

"Who are you talking to?" Joe asks as he breezes back in carrying a large smoothie and a plate with two huge muffins.

"My vagina."

"What?" he snort-laughs.

"I caught your scent on this shirt and it made my vag perk up, but I shut it down. We need to get to the fall fest before the rain gets here. Plenty of time to get naughty later."

"Great, now I'm getting cockblocked by fall fest," he teases, grinning as he hands you a fat muffin.

"You've got sex on the brain."

"Says the woman with the perky vag."

"Touché," you chuckle, sinking your teeth into the sweet smelling muffin. "Oh my gosh," you moan after chewing and swallowing. "What flavor is this?"

"Apple cinnamon streusel."

"It's delicious," you enthuse, taking another bite as he crawls in bed beside you and takes a bite of his muffin. "What flavor is your smoothie?" you ask, taking a sip as he offers it to you.

"Harvest bounty or something like that," he shrugs. "It has like fifteen ingredients."

"It's good," you mumble, turning your attention back to your much tastier coffee and muffin. Smoothies were def his thing more than your thing.

Y'all finish eating breakfast while exchanging small talk.

"How does your calf feel?" you ask.

"Fine. I did all of my stretches when I got up this morning and it felt good. I thought about getting in a quick work-out, but I'm still tired from the work-out you gave me last night."

"Yeah, my legs feel like jelly, and I haven't even tried to stand up yet." Y'all laugh a little before you continue. "I still can't believe you had our exact same home gym replicated here at the lakehouse."

He shrugs. "It was easy. I just ordered the equipment and sent Max a few pics of the set-up I wanted. He met the delivery guys here and showed them where to put everything."

"Is Max going to be our caretaker here?"

"Yeah. I offered him the job and he accepted. I insisted on giving him a substantial raise. He said he didn't need it, but he gave in once he realized I wasn't gonna back down."

"You're never gonna beat the stubborn allegations."

"Ain't even trying," he chuckles, giving you a cocky grin before polishing off his muffin.

"Why don't you check the weather report real quick," you urge. "See what time the rain is gonna start."

He grabs his phone and scrolls for a minute. "Looks like it won't start until early evening. We'll have plenty of time to enjoy fall fest before the storm rolls in."

"Yay!" you chirp, handing him the last bite of your muffin before easing out of bed and heading for the bathroom. "I'm gonna get a quick shower and get dressed. I'll be ready in about thirty or forty minutes."

"Babe?" he asks, just before you disappear into the en suite bathroom.

"Yeah?" you turn to look at him.

"The high temp today is 69," he purrs, giving you a filthy wink. "Pretty sure that's a good omen for tonight."

"It's good to know marriage hasn't tamed your horniness," you giggle, shaking your head as you head for the shower.

~ ~ ~

Forty-five minutes later, y'all are driving the winding road that circles the lake, finally headed to the farmers market fall fest that you've been looking forward to since it was first mentioned.

"I'm so excited!" you enthuse. "What are you looking forward to the most?" you ask.

"Pumpkin spice doughnuts and getting a couple of actual pumpkins to carve tonight." He flashes you a smile before returning his attention to the road. "What about you?"

"Both of those plus getting some apple cider to go with the spiced rum we brought."

"Are we gonna get lit while carving the pumpkins?"

"Just a little tipsy," you giggle. "We're on vacay after all." You turn your head to look at him, giving him a slow perusal as he navigates the curvy road with one big hand gripping the steering wheel. He's wearing a black backwards cap, sunglasses, a plaid flannel shirt in shades of black, gray and blue unbuttoned over a white t-shirt, plus his fav gray jeans that are stretched tight over his thick thighs. The cuffs of his shirt are rolled up to reveal his sinewy forearms, and your eyes are drawn to a prominent vein that snakes down from his elbow to his wrist.

You bite your lip and squirm in your seat when you think about another prominent vein farther south on his body that you spent quite awhile teasing with your tongue last night.

He cuts a glance at you, one eyebrow raised above the frame of his shades. "What?" he grins, reading your body language with ease.

"Just enjoying the view," you murmur.

"The view is that way," he states, pointing toward the lake in the opposite direction

"Nope, it's definitely this way," you tease, taking your sunglasses off to bat your eyelashes while ogling him.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'm gonna turn this car around and take you right back to bed."

You give him a wink before sliding your shades back on. "I'll behave since I really wanna go to fall fest."

"Cockblocked by fall fest once again," he grumbles playfully.

"I'll make it up to you later," you promise.

~ ~ ~

Y'all pull into the parking lot about fifteen minutes later, breathing a sigh of relief that very few cars are already there. "Not too many folks here on a week-day morning," you state, grabbing your purse plus a reusable shopping bag before you exit the car. You walk beside Joe toward the entrance, smiling to yourself when he instinctively matches his much longer strides to your shorter ones.

"Ohhh, let's hit the pumpkin patch first," he urges, pointing just to the left of the main entrance where it seems there are about a thousand pumpkins sitting pretty in the late-morning sun. You quickly agree, and y'all split up to select the perfect pumpkins for carving.

After about ten minutes of serious pumpkin perusal, you hear Joe's voice coming from one row over.

"Babe?"

You can't see him due to the hay bales stacked between each row. "Yeah?" you answer, leaning down to thump your fingers against a shiny, plump candidate, making a stank face at the dull thud you get back.

"Can you come here real quick?" he continues.

"Sure." You walk to the end of the row, turn the corner and head toward him, smiling when he points at a cute display -- a jaunty scarecrow, several hay bales, and about a dozen colorful mums situated in front of a mound of pumpkins. "You're taller than the scarecrow," you tease, giggling when he sticks his tongue out at you.

"Let's take a pic real quick," he urges, waiting for you to drop your bags out of frame before joining him in front of the display. He snaps a few pics, his long arm working just as good as any selfie stick. "These are great," he states, showing you the results.

"They really are," you agree, "and we totally match," you continue. You're in another pair of black leggings with your black knee boots, a fitted white t-shirt, and a long sleeve button down shirt in a soft, medium-wash denim. You left your coat in the car because it wasn't cold enough for it.

"For real," he muses. "The Story of Us - Volume Two is gonna be awesome," he grins.

You give him a quick kiss before grabbing your bags and heading one row over to continue searching for the perfect pumpkin.

About fifteen minutes later, you round the corner again holding the ultimate carving pumpkin. You jump a bit as you immediately come face to face with Joe holding his own gorgeous gourd. Y'all eye each other's selections for a few seconds, nodding approval. His selection is tall and sturdy while yours is shorter and more voluptuous. "Perfect," he says, taking your pumpkin from you. "I'll pay for these and take them to the car while you get in line for doughnuts. I'll get the warm apple cider and come find you."

"Okay," you grin, walking toward the main entrance, your heart full of love for your bossy husband.

You're still standing in line several minutes later when Joe walks up with two cups, handing you one. "It's delicious," he says, waiting for you to take a sip of the steaming beverage, closely watching your face for your reaction. "Delicious," you echo, taking another sip before stepping forward to order your doughnuts.

Y'all eat the spicy, warm pastries washed down with cider while walking and inspecting the wares at the various booths selling fruits and vegetables, homemade goods, arts and crafts, home decor, plus lots of food and drink.

You stop in front of a display of plush blankets, quickly digging in your purse for a wet wipe from your travel pack, cleaning your hands before handing the wipe to Joe to do the same. You dry your hands on a clean napkin before reaching out to fondle one of the throws. "Sooo soft," you murmur, watching as Joe roots around in the pile of blankets before pulling out one adorned with an autumn-hued plaid with just a hint of teal.

"Perfect for the lakehouse, right?" he grins.

"Perfect," you agree.

"Let's get one for the city, too," he mutters, watching closely as you dig around for a more neutral-colored throw. "Jackpot," he states as you hold one up for inspection.

"These would make great Christmas presents," you muse, spending the next several minutes trying to decide which throws to get for everyone.

"Let's just get all of 'em, and we'll decide who to give 'em to later," Joe urges.

You agree, giving a warm smile to the vendor when he comes over to check y'all out. He raises his eyebrows as he looks at Joe. "You look kinda familiar," the vendor says. "You come here often?"

"No," Joe answers as he hands over some cash. "This is our first time here."

"We're from out of town," you add.

"I see," the vendor says, returning your smile before handing Joe his change.

"Keep the change," Joe says before y'all help the vendor stuff fourteen fluffy blankets into a couple of oversized paper shopping bags. "I'll take these to the car," Joe mutters, flashing you a conspiratorial smile. "You keep browsing."

You make it as far as the next booth before Joe catches up with you; he walks up waggling a small paper bag. "Spicy roasted nuts," he mumbles around a mouthful of said nuts. "I needed some protein to go with all the carbs."

"Good idea, babe," you state, sticking a candle under his nose. "You like this scent?"

He inhales the aroma and immediately nods his head. "Love it. What is it?"

"Honey vanilla. I like that it's not too sweet. I think I'll get a couple," you continue, placing the lid back on the candle you're holding before reaching for another one.

"Get more than a couple," Joe orders before tossing another handful of nuts in his mouth.

"They have eight of this fragrance. How many should we get?"

"Get all of 'em," he urges. "It's not like they'll go bad before we can use 'em. We can leave some here and take some back to the city."

You give him a smile and nod in agreement, secretly thrilled that he seems to be really enjoying his fall fest experience. "You keep browsing," you say. "I'll pay for these then catch up with you."

You help the vendor double wrap your candles in tissue paper to protect the glass containers before stashing them in your reusable shopping bag; as you make your way up the row of booths, you spot Joe ambling along, his head turning side-to-side to take in all of the goods. "Hey," you greet as you catch up with him.

"Hey," he echoes, holding his paper bag out to you. "Wanna taste my nuts?"

Your mouth drops open as you unleash an inelegant snort-laugh, laughing even harder when he shakes his head.

"And you accuse me of having sex on the brain," he chuckles.

"You do have sex on the brain," you state, grabbing a handful of his nuts and tossing them in your mouth.

"I mean … yeah, but can you blame me?" he asks. "I've got a smoking hot wife."

"You're getting laid tonight, Burrow," you slide your sunglasses down and give him a wink. "No flattery needed."

"It's not flattery. It's the truth."

You give him a smile and take another handful of nuts as y'all continue strolling up the row.

"Pumpkin tic-tac-toe!" Joe chirps, grabbing your hand and leading you to a display that features a square, black table with orange tape used to create the tic-tac-toe rows; there's a hay bale in front of the table holding five white and five orange mini pumpkins, each about the size of a grapefruit. "How much to play?" Joe asks the elderly man sitting in a folding chair reading a newspaper.

"You can play for free," he answers, nodding at a large glass jar with some coins and dollar bills in it. "But if you'd like to make a donation to the local food bank, we'd appreciate it."

Joe gives him a nod and stuffs several twenties in the jar before leveling a 'game face' look at you. "Which color would you like to lose with?" he teases, "white or orange?"

"I'll take white," you answer, knowing he'll def want the orange.

"You go first," he urges, raising one eyebrow when you place a white pumpkin in the upper right corner; after a few more moves, the game ends in a draw. "Okay, my turn to go first," he mutters, plopping his orange pumpkin in the center square. After a few more moves, the game ends in another draw and Joe gives you an evil grin. "You'll slip up in a minute," he states. "It's only a matter of time.

Y'all play several more games with each ending in a draw.

"Looks like we're pretty evenly matched," you eventually muse, giggling when he makes a stank face. "One more game," you continue, knowing you have to end this or y'all will still be playing when the storm rolls in; you set a white pumpkin down top center, smiling at Joe when he tilts his head and gives you a look before setting his own pumpkin down. He wins the game fairly quickly after.

"Congrats," you smile, picking up your purse and shopping bag while Joe cuts a look at the vendor who's been mostly ignoring y'all while reading his paper.

"She let me win, didn't she?" Joe asks.

"She sure did," the vendor grins. "Good woman you got there."

"The best," Joe agrees, swatting your butt playfully as y'all head toward the next booth.

You stop in front of the booth, intrigued by several colorful fondue pots holding glossy tan liquid. Joe stops beside you and reads the card in front of each fondue pot. "Salted caramel, cinnamon caramel, chocolate caramel, peanut butter caramel, dairy-free caramel." He gives you a beaming smile when he reads the last card. "Dairy-free," he purrs, turning the full wattage of his smile on the vendor as he steps closer to the booth.

"Would you like to sample the dairy-free?" she asks, somehow managing to tear her eyes away from Joe for a second to include you in her offer.

"Yes," he states, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips in anticipation. The vendor, who looks to be in her late teens, seems mesmerized by him for a few seconds before clearing her throat and forging ahead.

"I have homemade marshmallows and apple slices you can dip in the caramel. Do any of those sound good?"

"Yes and yes," Joe enthuses, snatching an apple slice off of the plate she holds toward him before dunking it in the caramel and offering it to you; you hold eye contact with him as you bite into the juicy delicacy, chewing slowly as he watches you closely. "Is it good?" he asks, popping the rest of the apple slice in his mouth before grabbing a marshmallow.

"It's delicious," you answer, a little surprised at how good it actually is.

He dips the marshmallow in the caramel -- careful not to touch his fingers in the glossy goo -- and tosses it in his mouth, his eyes going wide as he chews. "Really good," he mumbles, grabbing another marshmallow and ripping it in half before dunking half and offering it to you.

"We have these little forks you can use," the vendor offers, waving her hand at several long, narrow forks before gracing Joe with a smile.

"I'd rather feed her with my fingers," Joe states. "I promise not to touch the caramel or double dip."

You chew the caramel-coated marshmallow and throw a grin at the vendor who tears her gaze away from Joe to return your smile. "This is the best dairy-free caramel I've ever tasted," you state. "Do you sell the marshmallows, too?"

"Yes," she mutters, stepping back as an older woman walks up with a big smile on her face. "You like the dairy-free caramel, huh?" she asks, looking back and forth between you and Joe.

"Love it," you answer.

"I have four jars left …"

"We'll take all four," you and Joe say in unison, laughing at the synchronicity.

"Can we get a couple bags of marshmallows, too?" Joe asks, grinning when she gives him a nod and reaches down to grab a couple bags of the fat, fluffy confections.

"Anything else?" she asks, bagging up your purchases as you eye a few boxes on a side table. "You sell the fondue pots, too?" you inquire, grinning at Joe as he walks over and looks at the dozen or so boxes.

"Sure do," she answers, "only have a few left though. What color do you want?"

"Teal," you and Joe answer together, pointing at one of her sample pots and, once again, laughing at the synchronicity.

"You kids seem to be on the same wavelength," she chuckles, grabbing a box and adding it to your bag.

"It's kind of our thing," Joe brags, paying for the purchases while you wait.

You turn your head and spot the younger girl who'd helped you earlier snapping a pic of Joe, her eyes going wide when she realizes she's been caught. You walk toward her, smiling when she mumbles an apology. "You recognize him?" you ask.

"Yeah," she whispers. "He's Joe Burrow and you're his fiancée."

"Want a pic with him?"

"Really?" she asks, her face lighting up.

"Sure," you answer, waving Joe over. You take her phone and instruct Joe to pose, laughing internally at his obvious hover hand as you snap the pic.

"Thanks!" she enthuses as you hand her phone back to her.

"You're welcome," you grin, taking Joe's hand as y'all walk to the next booth.

"Can we do the fondue thing tonight?" Joe asks, plowing ahead before you answer. "We have marshmallows to dip, and maybe we can get a few more pumpkin spice doughnuts and some apples."

"Sounds like a sugar rush, but I'm down," you say, "but we still need to stop at the grocery store and get some actual food to cook for dinner. I don't want to force a delivery driver to venture out in a thunderstorm later."

"Okay," he agrees, his beaming smile coaxing an answering smile to your lips.

~ ~ ~

A few hours later y'all arrive back at the lakehouse, making several trips to bring in your haul.

You pop a jug of apple cider in the fridge -- along with some salmon and a chopped salad y'all got at the grocery store for dinner-- before heading back out to help Joe bring in more stuff.

"I've got this, babe," he says, lugging several bags in while giving you a wink. "Why don't you heat up some cider with a little spiced rum, and we can sit on the deck and enjoy the sunset?"

"Do we have time before the storm gets here?"

"Yeah," he says, dropping the bags before heading back out. "I checked the radar, and we have about an hour before the storm gets here."

You do his bidding, heating up some cider and rum in oversized mugs, taking a swig and making a face as he strolls back in and plops the pumpkins on the kitchen island.

"Wow, that's potent," you giggle, taking another gulp as you push his mug toward him.

"It's delicious," he moans, taking his cap off and tossing it on the island before grabbing your new plush throw -- autumn-hued with a hint of teal -- and nodding toward the back deck. "Let's go enjoy the sunset."

Joe lights the fire pit before joining you on the loveseat, wrapping the blanket around you both as you hold the mugs of boozy cider; you hand him his mug and snuggle up against him, throwing your legs over one of his thick thighs and resting your head on his shoulder.

"I'm so glad the adjacent lots came with the house," you muse.

"Yeah," Joe agrees. "I was already in love with the house, but when I found out it was sitting directly in the center of three oversized lots, I was totally sold."

"Lots of privacy," you grin, snuggling tighter against his warm body as the wind picks up, blowing some of the jewel-colored leaves off the trees. "The temp is dropping pretty quick, and the clouds are rolling in," you say. "Rain's gonna be here sooner than expected."

"We probably have another twenty minutes or so to enjoy the sunset before it gets here."

"That's good," you murmur. "Thanks for taking me to fall fest," you continue, kissing his neck before taking another swig of your cider.

"You're welcome. I had fun, especially since very few folks recognized me."

"I think several people may have recognized you but just didn't say anything. It's hard to say if they were staring at you because you looked familiar or because you're sex on legs."

"You're getting laid tonight, Mrs. Burrow," he repeats your earlier words. "No need for flattery."

"It's the absolute truth and you know it," you state, heaving a happy sigh as he curls an arm around your waist under the soft blanket, his long fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hip through your leggings.

Y'all sip your drinks and admire the view for a few minutes before you speak up again.

"I've been thinking," you mutter, tilting your head to look at him. "What will we say if folks find out we got secretly married?"

"I'll take all of the blame, of course," he states, "since it was my idea."

"But what will we tell folks if they ask why we did it?"

"The truth," he shrugs. "I wanted to do it to give me one less thing to stress over."

"And what if someone says 'You were already getting married in the off-season. You couldn't wait?'"

"I'll say no, I couldn't wait to make you mine." His gaze drops to your lips just before he presses his mouth to yours, licking along the seam of your lips to coax them open, deepening the kiss as he pulls you closer. You lean into the kiss for a few minutes before pulling back slightly. "I've been yours since the night we shared our first kiss," you whisper against his slick lips. He lifts his head to meet your eyes. "And now it's official," he grins. "You're stuck with me for life."

You continue grinning at each other like lovesick fools until he flinches and reaches a hand up to the top of his head. "Please don't let that be bird shit," he grumbles, sighing in relief when a light patter of rain starts falling. "It's just rain," he chuckles, taking your mug of cider and setting it down beside his on the coffee table. "Hurry inside before our kickass blanket gets wet," he orders. "I'll put the cover on the fire pit."

You rush inside and watch through a window as he grabs the fire pit cover and secures it in place before grabbing both mugs and heading your way; you hold the door open for him as he hurries inside just before the rain intensifies.

"Well, we got to see most of the sunset," he smiles, handing you a mug before running his fingers through his slightly-damp hair. 'Wanna carve the pumpkins now?"

"Sure," you answer. "Where are we gonna do it?"

"Let me get a fire going, and we can move the table in front of the fireplace."

"Sounds good." You drape the blanket over the back of the sofa before heading toward the kitchen. "Let's light a few of our new candles, too." You pull four of the eight candles out of your shopping bag and set them on either side of the large stone hearth, waiting for Joe to get the fire going before taking the stick lighter from him to light the candles. "Super cozy," you sigh, setting the lighter down before helping Joe move a card table and two chairs in front of the fireplace. He'd purchased the table and chairs to use until you could pick out an actual dining table.

"I'll get the pumpkins," he says.

"I'll get everything else." You grab a beach towel, two knives, two large spoons, two pens, and an oversized mixing bowl for the guts.

Joe waits for you to place the towel on top of the table before setting the pumpkins down; he grabs your mugs of cider and sets them down while you place a knife, a spoon, and a pen beside each pumpkin, positioning the large bowl in the center of the table.

"I don't need a pen," Joe states, stripping his flannel shirt off and tossing it on the sofa before dropping into his chair directly across from you.

You take your denim shirt off and hang it on the back of your chair before sitting down. "You don't wanna draw the face before you start carving?"

"I'm just gonna wing it," he grins, taking a hearty swig of cider before tipping his pumpkin onto its side, picking up a knife and plunging it into the bottom, quickly making a circular cut and removing the chunk. "Want me to handle your bottom for you?" he asks, grinning at your loaded expression. "The bottom of your pumpkin, horndog," he chuckles, pulling your pumpkin toward him when you give him a wink and a nod.

Once he opens your pumpkin up and pushes it back in front of you, y'all both grab big metal spoons and start scooping, eventually filling the bowl almost to the brim with gourd goop.

"I'm gonna wash my hands before I start carving the face," Joe mutters once his pumpkin is hollowed out. "Me too." You follow him to the kitchen sink, each giving your hands a quick wash before heading back to the table.

"Time to get down to business," he states, grabbing his knife and tilting his head left and right before starting to cut, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates.

You take a few minutes to draw your jack-o-lantern face before cutting. "I'm gonna give mine a happy face," you state.

"I'm gonna give mine a mean game face," Joe snarls, flashing you a smile when you giggle at him.

Y'all work for the next several minutes without speaking, the sound of the pouring rain and crackling fire the only noises.

You finish the eyes and nose and are just about to start on the mouth when you give Joe a quick glance, your pulse reacting when you find him staring at you. "Are you finished?" you murmur.

"Not yet. Just enjoying the view."

You bite your lip and stare back at him for several heartbeats, a thought flashing in your mind that you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you … or the way he makes you feel.

Eventually a loud clap of thunder makes you gasp and jump, breaking the spell for a second.

"The storm's right on top of us," he murmurs.

"I can feel the electricity in the air," you whisper, taking a few gulps of cider, a sizzle of heat rushing through you at the look on his face.

"I think the electricity is coming from us," he purrs, standing up and holding a hand out to you.

"I need to get a quick shower," you say, placing your hand in his as you stand up.

"No, you don't," he argues, pulling you close, his hands immediately dropping to your butt as he buries his face in your neck, his soft scruff causing a shiver of desire as he kisses his way up to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"I was gonna wear the naughty lingerie tonight … after I have a shower," you protest weakly, gripping his shoulders as you lean into him, lightheaded from the mixture of spiced rum and arousal.

"Later," he murmurs, dropping to his knees to remove your boots and socks before standing back up.

"But …"

"Are you wet for me?" he interrupts, cupping one big hand over your crotch and teasing you through your leggings.

"Maybe," you whisper, your breath catching in your throat when he slides a hand inside your leggings, his agile fingers quickly slipping into your panties, a sound of satisfaction rumbling low in his throat at how wet you are for him.

"I need you naked. Now," he states, picking you up and setting you on the leather sofa before peeling your t-shirt and leggings off. You take your bra off as he slides your panties down your legs, the look on his face setting off a steady throb deep inside you.

He strips his own t-shirt off and drops to his knees before spreading your thighs; he pulls your ass to the edge of the sofa cushion, his hot tongue immediately teasing your slick folds with long, slow licks. "You taste so good," he groans, his deep voice, thick with lust, caressing you like a physical touch.

You bury a hand in his hair and watch closely as he devours you, his tongue inside you and his scruff tickling your most sensitive flesh causing a delicious tension to build in your core. "Please," you beg, biting your lip hard enough to sting as he captures your gaze while gently circling your clit with his tongue; he continues to tease you with his mouth while sliding his hands up your body to play with your nipples, groaning when you pull his hair and grind against him.

"Harder!" you urge, gasping when he latches onto your clit and gives it a thorough suck. "Just like that," you breathe, "don't stop!" You keep your gaze locked on his as the tension inside you reaches the breaking point, giving his hair another tug as your intense climax hits, your cries of pleasure mingling with the rolling thunder as he continues to pleasure you through the orgasm.

You're still trying to catch your breath when he shoves his jeans and undies down to mid-thigh and nestles his erection against your entrance. "You ready?" he asks, dipping just inside while waiting for the go ahead. "Yeah," you pant, whimpering when he buries his cock inside your still spasming core, the thick intrusion causing you to clamp down hard. "Jesus, you feel too good," he groans, his hips immediately rolling forward in smooth, steady strokes as you wrap your trembling legs around him.

He leans down and captures your lips, gracing you with a primal growl when you suck his tongue into your mouth. "You taste amazing, don't you?" he asks, riding you even harder when you give him a breathless, "yes, sir," before continuing to savor the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

He cups a hand behind your right knee and lifts your leg over his shoulder, the new angle tilting your hips in a way that has him hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. You moan his name as he completely fills you up -- over and over -- the exquisite stretch of his thick cock inside you straddling the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Can you come for me again?" he rasps, dropping a hand down to tease your super sensitive clit while pounding into you. "Y … yes," you whine, feeling another climax building as his soft grunts accompany his hard thrusts, his icy-hot gaze locked on yours as he expertly pushes you toward meltdown.

You dig your fingers into his muscular arms and make a sound that's part whimper/part scream as your orgasm rips through you, your gaze still holding his as he manages a few more thrusts before following you over the edge. His beautiful eyes lose focus before sliding closed in ecstasy, his head tilting back as he empties himself into you as your clenching walls milk him dry.

He eventually falls forward and buries his face in your neck; for the next few minutes, the only sounds you hear are the snap and crackle of the fire, the distant thunder, and you and Joe panting hard to catch your breath.

After a little while longer, you flutter your eyes open, your gaze coming to rest on your partially-carved pumpkin staring at you. "My jack-o-lantern is hardcore judging us right now," you giggle.

Joe drops a kiss against your neck before throwing a look over his shoulder. "Yep," he agrees. "She looks totally scandalized." He gives you a wink before slowly pulling out of you, both of you hissing at the delicious friction.

"You wanna finish carving the pumpkins now or you wanna rest?" you ask, stretching out on the oversized sofa as he stands up and strips off the rest of his clothes.

"Let's rest for a bit," he answers, heading to the kitchen to get a damp cloth to clean you up before stretching his tall frame out beside you; he tugs the plush blanket down on top of y'all, pulling you close and making sure you're fully covered before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

A few minutes pass before he speaks up again. "Would it be cheesy to say there's no place I'd rather be than right here with you?"

You snuggle closer to him, a smile gracing your lips as you answer. "Would it be cheesy to admit I was thinking the exact same thing?"

"We're on the same wavelength, as usual," he chuckles.

"It's kind of our thing," you repeat his words from earlier, his familiar scent and the sound of his strong heartbeat lulling you to sleep as your eyes flutter closed.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

304 notes · View notes

gavisuntiedboot · 11 months

Note

Whenever you have the time could you write about Gavi with a gf that is a bit reserved and touch starved, her love language is physical touch but she doesn't initiate it with Gavi because her ex always told her she is clingy and annoying so she's insecure about it, so Gavi tries to show her it's okay by always cuddling her, or touching her in any way. And then over time she starts to initiate the cuddling/touching and Gavi is so proud and happy because she finally feels comfortable with him

Your writing is amazing btw, I've decided to wait for you to finish Just Pretend completely to continue reading it because whenever I finish the last chapter you post I get so sad because the next one isn't out yet and I can't live in the agony of not knowing what happens next

Pls hold my hand

"Princess, why do you have a sweatshirt that says ‘clingy’ on it?”

You looked over to Gavi, who plopped himself down on the couch next to you, grabbing the remote to cue the Netflix show the two of you had been watching for the last several weeks, eager to finally watch another episode, as the two of you held your shared series’ to a sacred standard. With only two episodes left of the latest “Drive to Survive”, you didn’t want to delay the experience with too much conversation.

"Just and inside joke between me and my friends.” You said, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the bag of m&m’s in front of you.

“Your friends think you’re clingy?” He asked, turning to face you as his hoodie slipped from his head, messy brown locks on full display. One of the things you adored about Pablo was how much he was always trying to protect you and look out for you. You weren’t really be confrontational, and this lead to some mistreatment and being pushed over at times by those close to you. Well, you used to. Since you and Pablo started dating about 8 months ago, he had been there to defend you against people who wanted to take advantage, and often was the voice reminding you to stick up for yourself.

“No no, it’s not them. It’s … something to do with my ex boyfriend. Do you still want to know?”

Gavi tensed at this. Despite you never saying anything explicitly negative about your boyfriend, all the stories Gavi heard made him hate the man with a burning passion. He had slowly but surely messed you up in so many ways, and now as Pablo worked to slowly unravel the knots tightened around your heart, he couldn’t help but curse the man that tied them to begin with.

“Yeah. You can tell me.”

You shifted in your seat, rather uncomfortable with the topic, but not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.

“Well, remember that little love languages quiz I made you do? Well I did mine like years ago, and I got physical touch. Which makes sense right because that’s one of yours and we seem to be getting along pretty well.” Gavi giggled at this, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and causing you to tense.

“Well, my last boyfriend wasn’t super into like… touching? Fuck that sounds sexual. I mean he didn’t really like being touched or cuddling or all that couple stuff. Didn’t like holding hands either. And like this one time, he was watching something on his computer and I was feeling bold or whatever and tried to sit on his lap — he hated that though. He liked pushed me onto the floor and told me to stop being clingy.” You forced out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood and soften the look of horror that had occupied Gavi’s face.

“That was actually why I broke up with him. Anyways I didn’t hug any of my friends for a month after that, and when they finally confronted me and I told them why, they got this made me for me. See, look at the sleeve,” you said, stretching out your arm to show him the ‘pls hold my hand’ embroidered on the sleeve. “So now whenever I’m in my clingy sweatshirt, my friends give me a ton of hugs and stuff. It’s funny. I think.” You say, winching slightly by the fact that Pablo’s eyebrows are still pushed together in anger.

He muttered his grievances about your boyfriend while cuddling closer to you, pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks warmed as they were pressed against Gavi’s beating heart. Despite the long time you had been dating Pablo, you still were shy when it came to initiating any sort of affection. You were too scared of annoying him and pushing him further away. So you remained shy and reserved, only responding to the touches he initiated.

“Give me your hand, silly. Never been with a girl who came with instructions before. Maybe I should get you a pair of panties that say-“ his sentence abruptly ended with a pillow to the face. You giggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he just pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you now.

“Oh no no princesa. You’re not going anywhere. Now hush and make mean comments about Verstappen with me.”

Over the next few weeks, Pablo had made an active effort to make you more comfortable with being physical with him. Whenever the two of you were out, he held your hand or had you two link arms. He hugged you and kissed you on the cheek or forehead, asking, “you don’t want to give me a kiss back, Amor?” Puppy dog eyes and adorable pout on display, you coyly returned the peck to his jutted out lip. He smiled widely, teeth almost blinding you. He returned with an attack, kissing you across both cheeks, and ending with a searing kiss to the lips.

His favorite time was when you two watched shows together. He would always pull you in close, cuddling with you next to him on the couch. He would lean close and whisper his comments about the show into your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps as his breath famed over. He would press kisses into your temples, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair, and reminding you how much he loved being around you.

“You’re so warm amor - my personal furnace. I love it.”

“Your skin is so soft, feels so nice.”

“I wish I never had to get up from beside you.”

After three weeks of hand holding, kisses, and encouragement, you finally found the confidence to approach Gavi to heal your touch starvation. You put on your clingy hoodie again, laying out snacks on the coffee table and firing up her Netflix.

“Princesa I’m here! Where are you?”

Running to the door, you wrapped both arms around Gavi’s neck, pulling him into you and greeting him with a firm kiss. As he recovered from the unexpected greeting, you informed him that you would be in the living room pulling up a new series. He followed closely after kicking off his shoes, and peeling off his Barca jacket, picking up the hoodie you had laid out for him.

“Did you change shampoos? Used to be peach and now it’s strawberry.”

“How could you tell?” You asked, grabbing some drinks as Pablo got comfy on the couch. He crossed his arms across his chest, legs spread and back slumped.

“My clothes smell different around the shoulders. That’s usually where your wet hair sits.” He looked over at you, watching your eyes go wide. “Amor, you know I love you, stop being surprised when I actually act like it. Now what are we watching?”

Taking a deep breath, you walked back over. You grabbed the remote, pressing play.

“The new season of Black Mirror is out and I’m dying to see it. Heard this one is creepier than normal.” As you explained, you walked over to Gavi. Before he could move to make space for you on the sofa, you draped yourself over his lap. Your legs were to his side, back pressed to his chest. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and you laid your head on his shoulder. ‘Deep breaths it’s okay he’s not going to push you off.’

Pablo was stunned for a moment, so much so that he remained motionless. Once the shock wore off and he felt your slight tremble, he brought his muscled arms around you, pulling you tightly against him, soft lips pressing to your pulse point and freeing a soft gasp from your throat. He rested his head atop yours, the pressure and warmth comforting and familiar.

“Look at you being bold cariño. If I knew it would get you to sit in my lap we would’ve done this months ago.” You giggled softly in response, turning to face him. You rested your forehead against his, gazing deeply into the deep brown pools of his eyes. Leaning in, his lips eagerly met yours, refusing to release you. When you finally pulled away, you resumed your comfortable position in Pablo’s embrace. “I’m so proud of you, princesa.” The two of you fell into s comfortable silence, enjoying the show, squeezing each other tighter whenever things got intense.

“Can I get a matching clingy hoodie for whenever I want cuddles?” Pablo asked, smiling at you from above.

“I don’t think so, Pablito. You would never take it off.”

~~~

Guys I have the worst headacheeeeee but yay I posted!

#gavisuntiedboot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi x you #fc barca #gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader fluff #pablo gavi x y/n #gavi x yn #gavi #gavi fluff #pablo gavi fluff #gavi fic #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi fanfiction #gavi fanfic

513 notes · View notes

cordeliawhohung · 29 days

Text

hi, uhm, personal stuff under the cut (:

i'm sure i've joked about this in a post or two, but for those who don't know i have a few chronic illnesses that affect my life in a somewhat moderate sense. i've also been struggling with ptsd for quite a while and due to several circumstances and life stuff haven't really been able to get professional help for it. turns out, a treatment i was receiving (medication) actually ended up helping with my ptsd symptoms in a way, as well as my illness symptoms, which was super great! for the last six months i feel like an actual human being, i started up this blog, and things have been going really well.

however, due to the harshness of the medication, i'm only allowed to be on it for six months. and that period ends soon.

now i'm not really good at like, sharing things about myself and i honestly don't really like to all that often. but i figured it was only fair that i gave you guys a heads up that updates might be coming out slower, or i might not be around as often depending on how my body and brain reacts to not having this stuff in my system anymore. there's also a chance that my updates might actually increase, because my ptsd makes it extremely difficult for me to sleep, and i usually spent most of my time writing when i couldn't sleep. but you get the gist. it's all up in the air and i don't know what's going to happen with me physically and mentally in the coming weeks.

anyway, i love you all dearly (: i'm hoping things go okay with the big change, but on the off chance that they don't, i just ask for kindness and understanding.

#core talks #personal #tw: medication #tw: ptsd #tw: illness

54 notes · View notes

drconstellation · 4 months

Text

Taking Things At Face Value

This post is dedicated to all those Ninas out there, who are "just enjoying the show."

I have been pondering an problem that had come up for a second time in another meta I'm writing (I left it out of an earlier one for clarity) regarding acknowledgement of identity and faces in S2, but when you keep running into the same road-block, you have to tackle it head on. Then I ran into the exact same problem a third time here, and the beginnings of this meta has sat in my drafts file staring at me for several weeks while I've been doing other things. But finally, finally, the answer has come to me, while being kept awake by a passing thunderstorm at 1.30am.

MRS SANDWICH: You're a good lad. CROWLEY: I'm not actually, either. But thank you.

Let's start with this exchange between Crowley and Mrs Sandwich, after Crowley has led all the Whickber St shopkeepers out of the ball to apparent safety. She calls him a "good lad," and he denies it, but thanks her anyway, and gives her a charming smile. We all know Crowley hates being called 'nice' and the last time he did something 'good' he got dragged down to Hell for punishment, so it seems like an odd thing to happen.

But the thing is, while Mrs Sandwich is complimenting his actions, he is responding about his appearance - that is neither 'good' (i.e. he is a demon) or a male human (i.e. he is an supernatural non-gendered entity.)

At this point you might be going "yeah, yeah, we know, we get that! Move along op..." but this matters, as you soon will see. We should also note that neither Crowley or Aziraphale judge Mrs Sandwich for being a brothel madame (how Aziraphale does not know this when her shop is just over the road from his I will never fathom, but there you go) and Crowley is actually quite charming all-round to his parallel character (prostitution and demons going hand-in-hand - er, not literally. But they went out the door as the vanguard arm-in-arm, though.)

The Metatron turning up at the bookshop in person is the next scene on the cards. Firstly, archangel Michael doesn't recognize him, but Saraqael obviously does.

Now, I know I'm guilty of saying that Michael may have had their memory adjusted at some time, but I'm going to suggest something else at this point. Saraqael knows who this is, because they have just had a fresh reminder from watching the recordings of Gabriel with Crowley and Muriel. And Saraqael is a pretty smart angel, so lets give them some leeway on this one. But for Michael, well, they are in the same situation as Aziraphale. They have only seen the Metatron as giant floating head without a body, so don't associate him with this appearance before them, and also because he has a beard.

Just before you jump on me and say "But he had one in the recordings!" yes, yes, I know. Two things, though, I want to bring to your attention: angels are not supposed to have facial hair,* and he doesn't have any in S1 (I checked!) and he also makes the comment "This calls for much less attention, though." Yeah, well a giant head floating through the streets of Soho would be quite a sight, wouldn't it, even though they had already been treated to the view of Gabriel's royal rear-end. Aziraphale had only met him once before, as a giant floating head in S1E4 who had had to introduce himself, so we could surmise this is Michael's problem as well, even though they were at Gabriel's trial. This is backed up by a tumblr ask/answer from NG as well, where he said "I think because they normally see him as a giant floating head, and not as a little man in a raincoat."

MICHAEL: Um, and who are you? METATRON: For Heaven's sake. And I mean that most literally. You don't know me? Well, uh, what about you? Demon? Do you know me?

Demon. That is what the Metatron chooses to call Crowley in that company, and we know in hindsight that he knows Crowley's name - as does Uriel, and Gabriel. Even Muriel learns it. But they don't use it, at least not in S2.

Even more notable is that the archangels don't deign to him give the respect of using his chosen name at all. He's not not even their enemy at this point - he's beneath their notice altogether, even though they are in the same room. Only Aziraphale seems to acknowledge his existence, instinctively trying to reach out to him as he passes by.

To Nina, people are coffee preferences.

To Mrs Sandwich, they are desires that need servicing.

So then question I had, and that stopped me, was why did both Crowley and Gabriel question Beelzebub about their new face?

It stood out to me because you don't normally make an obvious comment about the change of actor for a character, and to do it twice - !! You can't ignore that. No meta writer should ignore that. There is a trope term for this, actually, called "lampshading," which means to intentionally call attention to an incongruent situation within a story before moving on, but in a show where nothing is an accident, this seems a bit trite to me. Eventually I realized that this was the whole crux of the problem to me - that while we all too readily take things at face value, its not the faces that really influence us, its our internal values.

In the case of Beelzebub, Crowley recognizes the demon, their power, and their identity via the flies without any doubt; he merely comments on the change of exterior appearance. In terms of value, he knows straight away he's dealing with someone dangerous, no matter what they look like. Gabriel, on the other hand, is judging the book by its cover, and because he doesn't recognize the new cover, he needs proof of which demon he's dealing with, or maybe if they are even a demon at all.

"Bravo," says Nina, "Just enjoying the show." She's already seen a few that week, not to mention just in the general flow of life as a shop owner involved with customer service. If you've had any sort of life in a customer service role I'm sure you've got a few stories you could tell of things you've seen or experienced as well! I know I can.

The conversation between Nina and Crowley after Aziraphale walks away is amusing for all the assumptions Nina makes about them based on what she's observed that week, but also because Crowley tells the truth every in every reply to Nina, and yet she still has no idea what he's really saying. But her judgements, based on her experience and values, still manage to drop the proverbial ton of bricks on his head so badly he slinks off to sooth himself with some alcohol while he thinks about it instead of catching up with Aziraphale to continue being the angel's nameless shadow.

This problem with judging people on previous experience and not on who they actually are is everywhere in S2.

It's Ennon treating Aziraphale, an angel he's never met before, as a slut.

It's Elspeth judging Aziraphale on his accent.

It's Mrs H. giving a powerful demon a blistering tongue-lashing because she thinks he's a just simple human black marketeer.

It's Crowley refusing to call Gabriel "Jim" because he believes Gabriel is faking it.

...and so on. These are just a few examples. I'm sure you can spot a few more.

Which brings us back around to the meeting of the supernatural Councils in the bookshop in S2E6 and Crowley's "invisibility" to the other angels and demons gathered there. A demon to the archangels, an arch-traitor to the demons, why would they want to acknowledge him? Once he restores Gabriel, he becomes rank-less and faceless to them because they don't need him any more - its basically an act of celestial racism.

Nina and Maggie don't really know any better, they still think Mr Crowley and Mr Fell are just, well, "partners." OK, so maybe they've been doing some weird shit the last few days manipulating things in the neighbourhood but they're still obviously a couple a group of the two of them in their human eyes - and neither do they seem to care that they seem to be mlm, either. No judgement there.

A number of times I've seen ops say they've been watching GO with family members who are seeing it for the first time, and the family member thinks they are just "close friends." Why? Because they haven't seen S2 and the kiss? Because they haven't verbally said "I love you" to each other? Do they really need to say that to prove their feelings for each other? Is that just your values creeping to the fore?

And where did you get your values from?

Sometimes you need to stop and question why you think what you think. I'm not just talking about religious indoctrination. Some expectations put on us by by society at large can be insidious. Expectations around how gender should act, the life purpose of a gender, your worth to society if you don't meet certain unspoken standards, age-related behaviour, social norms around alcohol consumption, the way they dress, what someone eats, the way they eat it, that you must be seen to be productive, or busy...take your pick for whatever is prevalent around you at the moment and for your culture. Just start by noticing, and being aware.

Yes, it is pointless, because demons and angels all come from the same angelic stock. There was a bit of a disagreement at one point and they split into two groups, and judgemental labels got applied to them. They are both still bureaucratic horrors. Which ever side wins the final battle, humans still lose.

Mortal humans all look the same inside, too, if you take their face and skin away and take the societal labels off them. We forget that about ourselves all the time.

There doesn't have to be any wibbly-wobbly timeline stuff going on to explain things. What ever happened to the concept of Occam's Razor? The simplest answer is usually the correct one. And that was what I realized in the middle of the night - the cliche I had used to title this was the answer. It's about being aware of those ingrained, instinctive, judgmental values that you don't realize you've learnt, and looking past the faces that you meet.

*oh lawdy, I'm giving strength to all of you who want to believe he is a demon then, aren't I? But do demons have facial hair either?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #mrs sandwich #nina and maggie #job minisode #1941 minisode #the resurrectionists #aziraphale #beelzebub #gabriel #taking things at face value #lampshading #value judgements #wibbly wobbly timey wimey #occams razor

79 notes · View notes

eugenoid · 6 months

Text

After some hesitation, I decided to post a piece of a fic draft I've been working on (the very start of it, really). Aziracrow, post season 2, and if I manage to see it to completion, it'll be a hurt/comfort, fix-it fanfic (because of course it is).

People frequenting Whickber Street have noticed a peculiar weather phenomena: for a good couple of weeks now, dark storm clouds wouldn't leave the small area surrounding the "A. Z. Fell & Co" bookshop, and every day a heavy rain would fall, lasting precisely 66 minutes and 6 seconds at a time. What they haven't noticed, however — an amusing coincidence, really — is that it all started on the day the owner of said bookshop disappeared, and would end the day he came back.

"Why are you not inside?"

Crowley's demon heart starts racing from hearing a familiar voice, but he makes an effort to not move an inch from his spot, and not even acknowledge the angel's presence. Crowley is sitting on the cold roof of the bookshop, drenched in water; damp, gross clothes and hair sticking to the skin. He hears a poof and there's a big, blindingly white wing over his head now. He stays silent. Instead of getting an answer, Aziraphale is met with the rain getting worse, almost turning into a hailstorm. It starts hurting his wing, but the angel is determined to stay right where he is until he gets a response.

"Haven't showered in a while. Figured, why not," Crowley finally says flatly after several minutes of silence with a shrug. He refuses to look at Aziraphale, instead observing people rushing down the street.

"You are being silly," Aziraphale responds without fondness.

"Can't you see I'm rain… uh, bathing? Move- move your stupid wing out of the way," Crowley stutters in a rush, feeling nervous all of a sudden. And stupid. And small.

"I am just trying to protect you."

"From my rain," the demon says, getting irritated now.

"No, from everything. Well, including your rain, I suppose.” Aziraphale wishes he was better with words.

Crowley shuts his eyes and squeezes a damp roof tile with the force of a python choking its prey to death. It crumbles into scorching hot, dry dust on some poor bastard's head. The demon still doesn't turn to face Aziraphale.

"You are not protecting me from shit," he hisses through gritted teeth.

"Alright, this is getting ridiculous," Aziraphale sighs and with a wave of hand makes the rain stop. Clouds finally part, sun rays hitting the ground below for the first time in a while. He begins to put his wing away.

Crowley's response is to wildly flail his hands in the air which brings both the clouds and the rain back. Aziraphale groans in annoyance and raises his wing over the demon again.

"This is a bit melodramatic, even for me," the angel says under his breath and waves the rain away, again. Crowley brings it back with a snap of his fingers.

"I can do this all day," Crowley responds without even a smirk Aziraphale would expect from him at a moment like this. Angel realizes he longs to see it again. He wants to say something about it, but decides against it.

"You are attracting quite the crowd," he notices instead.

At this point most of the people on the street pulled out their phones to record the rapidly changing sky. Crowley wiggles his fingers, and suddenly everyone remembers they have urgent business to attend to, leaving no time to be standing outside videotaping the weather or (especially) the two figures on the roof.

"Crowley, please,” Aziraphale says with the hint of desperation in his voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by Crowley. “We need to talk."

Crowley lets his head fall. Puffs his cheeks and lets out a sigh. Taps fingers on his knee. Frowns. Clenches and unclenches his jaw. Frowns again. Finally, he looks at Aziraphale over the shoulder as the sky gradually clears and the last rain drop falls on his face, and begrudgingly manages:

"Fine. Let's talk."

OKAY this was my first attempt at writing in about... 8 years, and my first ever time writing in English, a kind feedback would be appreciated!

#aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #good omens #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #azicrow #fanfic draft #and no they are not going to make up on that same day despite what the first paragraph suggests

95 notes · View notes

diviningrodtv · 19 days

Text

Oh yeah, NSH Time.

I've been holding this post back for like a week😅

I absolutely love how NSH came out and I think he's currently my favourite rain world model that I've done! (Sorry Pebbles, I'm going to upgrade you later anyway :]

I also made his scarf easily removable so you can see how the stripes aren't just on his head! The stripes and his irises also glow, but a bit brighter than the areas on Five Rotten Pebbles.

His antennae are pretty similar to how I did Sliver's, especially considering I did his first! XD They're separated from his head a bit.

Also if you've noticed in my art that his eyes are the exact same as in the model here, that's because they are! I tried finding a way to draw them how I usually might, but I just couldn't get the same vibe! So I said, "Fuck it!" and I've been drawing over his model ever since XD

NSH is also who I used to make the "umbilical arm" model! So if you saw those posts, that's why the textures are all messed up!

And here it is in all it's glory!

It's mostly made of ball joints with a flexible joint attached to the back. The last segment also twists just like your forearm bones!

Also..... lore shit below cause I have, plans™ so-

If you don't want to know why NSH is acting strange on my blog yet, read no further!

(there's also some downpour spoilers, and some other disturbing things)

*slaps top of can* This bad boy can fit so much fucking insanity in him. (cw: self-harm yeah you heard me)

If you haven't figured it out already (I did drop hints :) NSH's structure is damaged! His legs are giving out because a group of scavengers thought it would be funny to transport all of their explosives at once.

So he's in a bit of a pickle!

This is when Looks to the Moon and Five Pebbles' communication tower is repaired! During their first conversation in a very long time, NSH finds out about good ol' Hunter long legs, and is rightfully distraught! He feels like a total failure, that he wasn't experienced enough to properly create his messenger.

That's what this whole post was about!

But, experience is something that can be gained.

NSH figured if Five Pebbles was able to leave his can, then he should be able to as well, but that requires solving the three problems I mentioned in the Five Rotten Pebbles post:

The self-genome modification barrier,

A general lack of puppet central brain matter, and

No material processing within the puppet.

I'll talk about my umbilical lore for this AU here since it's relevant.

Either the "cord" or the "arm" can be disconnected, but not both. This is for ease of repair by administrators. Disconnecting them both would leave the unfortunate Iterator fully functional. Although, they would be blind in the visible spectrum (apart from overseers), unable to speak directly to someone in their chamber, and would otherwise have their workflow be severely impaired. They would effectively be trapped in their own head.

NSH realised that even if the barriers existed, they could still have the intentions, to break them. So what would happen, if he broke one? Not by writing it out of his system, Five Pebbles already proved how risky that method was, but instead by setting his actions in motion faster than any barrier could stop them? This was something to test, and wasn't that what Iterators were built to do anyway?

Umbilicals can only be disconnected by administrators, but what if he were to do it anyway? He needed to leave his can after all, it wouldn't be much of a loss if he was stuck on the floor of his chamber or floating aimlessly in zero gravity for a while.....

So what if he just ran fast enough to rip himself off?

What if he moved his arm back at the last second, could he gain enough inertia to pull it out of his back? Even if it took a few tries?

What other choices does he have? Perfect Five Pebbles' method until he collapses and continue even then? He had time, but not enough for that, and The Hunter certainly did not have any time for waiting around. NSH had to fix his mistake, he had to.

So this bastard goes and does exactly that, and short-circuits his entire system.

Not just breaking the umbilical maintenance barrier, but every other one in the process.

And it all hurts like hell.

But that's the first problem solved, and now he can help keep himself afloat longer. So that now, he can figure out how to solve the other two problems with precision.

Of course, the others won't like any of these plans, but, after what Five Pebbles did, they wouldn't dare disturb him if he stopped responding, right?

And maybe, he could even hijack their communications array, to look for help.

>:]

yeah so NSH is not sane

#No Significant Harassment #rain world #rw no significant harassment #rw nsh #low poly #3d model #blockbench #Digi's RW Design Posts #downpour spoilers #generally fucked up mentally unstable rain world nonsense under the cut. It's marked at the top when you click read more #long post #very long post

39 notes · View notes

oneofthosebells · 2 months

Note

heyyy, just wanted to say how i love your fic (incognito mode) and i also wanted to ask if you abandoned It?? ):

Hey anon. Thank you for your kind words about my fic! But kind of confused by the question tbh.

This isn't a dig at you, anon, as I'm sure it's sincerely meant, but this ask has come on top of a few comments on the same fic over the last week or two asking if I've abandoned it or asking me to update. But the last chapter was posted only 3 1/2 weeks ago - and it's not exactly been a normal 3 1/2 weeks, has it, we've had new canon in that time to watch and rewatch and obsess over.

And even if we hadn't had new canon in that time, 25 days between updates isn't unreasonable? It's certainly not a reason to think the fic has been abandoned!

Fic writers have lives. I have a job, I have responsibilities, I have family and friends - and on top of all that, I have a couple of severe chronic health conditions that can at their worst stop me from writing (or doing much of anything at all) for days or weeks at a time.

I haven't updated in a bit because of a combination of health issues and excitement over S3 being too distracting - but even if I didn't have any particular reason at all for not updating, that would still be okay. We do this in our own time for free and for fun. I never committed to making regular updates on this fic because I knew there's no way I'd be able to achieve that.

So to answer your question, no, I've not abandoned it. I've been working on it today actually and am hoping to get a chapter out in the next few days. But if something happens to prevent that, then I will do the best I can to update at some point even if it might take longer. It still won't mean I've abandoned it.

I've never abandoned a fic in my life, because I've never started posting a WIP without a very clear idea in my head of where I want it to go and how it's going to end. It might sometimes take a while if life gets in the way, but it will always get finished eventually!

#ask #anon ask #my fanfiction

22 notes · View notes

rhoorl · 5 months

Text

Week in Review | Dec. 10

Hi! How are you? I can't believe we're nearing the midway point of December! I am happy to get back to my typical Week in Review style after an abbreviated version last week!

Same shit different week for me when it comes to my TBR, I add more than I can read. But alas, here's what I got to:

Fics I read this week:

Frankie Morales

I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena - I've kept this series in my Current Compulsory Series section for weeks, but I'm pulling it up to the top this week because we got the final part this week! It's always a bit bittersweet to me when I get to the end of a series, especially one I'm following in real-time. I loved following along each week and immersing myself in this story and I’m sad it's done (but hey, great news, I can now reread it from the beginning and binge!). Great job Jo! 💕

While I'm talking about Jo, here's this saucy one-shot Coming Under the Christmas Tree

Joel Miller

Footprints by @sin-djarin - This brought back some Christmas morning nostalgia for me! Joel as a dad and the love he has for Sarah makes me melt. And we have an Uncle Tommy appearance too!

Mr. Ben

SOS by brnn on AO3 - I’m not sure if this creator is on Tumblr, but if they are let me know! I had several chapters of this story built up that I hadn’t caught up on and when the final chapter dropped I binged what I had left! Mr. Ben and OFC Clare are adorable.

Din Djarin

Safe to The Touch by @linzels-blog A touch-starved Din gets some lovin’. 💕

A Baker’s Dozen by @avastrasposts Part 2 in Mel's series saw Din come into the bakery. This was so sweet (no pun intended!).

Other Characters

Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira - This series is so good! I've had it recommended to me several times and I've been slowly working my way through it, savoring it because I don't want it to end! I read Parts 2 and 3 this week along with the various drabbles in between. The chemistry these two have is *chef's kiss*

Current Compulsory Series:

These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.

Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - A healthy serving of delicious stories this week. I officially want to move to Maplewood, well, maybe visit. I'll be honest, I'm not made for the cold anymore. 😆 Also, Tim and Cagney continue to be a favorite as are Frankie and Mav! And Dieter made me google Christmas hippo socks which somehow I already did not own! 🦛

Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog The rollercoaster I felt with this latest chapter … I have to know what happens next!!

Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings This latest chapter had me all up in my feels. These two are 🥹💕

Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I think I've finally managed to pick my jaw up off the floor from the spicy scene in the latest chapter.

Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo Another great chapter update this week, El!! Grumpy Tim and his pet fish are living rent free in my head.

It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - There is some dad Javi content I need to catch up on!!

Posts from the week:

The moodboards @wildemaven puts out are always gold, but this Frankie holiday-themed board just made me swoon

@laurfilijames made me think about which holiday movies the TF boys would be into. I also hastily made a graphic lol. Speaking of asks @maggiemayhemnj gave me an almost impossible this or that choice. My friend @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain offered up these choices.

If you need a badge for any Pedro boy, @morallyinept has you covered

We got our first look at Pedro in Freaky Tales and oh goodness … the scar. Seriously help us all whenever the Gladiator photos leak.

In case you missed it, the fun writing challenge that’s going around here's another plug. I finally have an idea … now I just need to write it. I think I’m going to end up throwing it back to my college days and cramming this in at the last minute….

Feral corner:

There was simply too much to keep track of this week. I was overwhelmed by thots. I think this post sums things up well.

This photo altered my brain chemistry. This photo of Pedro as Dieter and THEN this video… oh hey Working Title Dieter. 😏 Frankie tummy always gets me. Javi P in this jacket. Talk about gifs you can hear. This outfit - he knew what he was doing when we wore this right?

@foralonglongtime - no pressure but I’m very excited about the prospect of this…

This scene from TLOU forever changed me.

Garrett Hedlund: This man was utterly too much this week. Exhibit A, Exhibit B, Exhibit C, and finally, the post that started my spiral.

Things I watched:

I didn't make it to the movies this week, Mr. Rhoorl went and saw Godzilla Minus One and loved it. He's a huge Godzilla fan so he was pretty excited to see it. I’m off fo work tomorrow so I’m planning on seeing Wish.

Something that is releasing soon that I'm excited to see is Rebel Moon with Charlie Hunnam on Netflix. It looks like it will be available for my UK fans this week, but we in the US have to wait until the 21st.

Personal Stuff

Busy week. Both Mr Rhoorl and I had PTO on different days this week and we both had our plans thwarted by a sick baby. She's ok now, all good! Otherwise, we've been mostly laying low. I have managed to get most of my holiday shopping done and our Christmas cards arrived so that's exciting! We've also been checking out the various theme parks - I love the way they decorate this time of year! We did a holiday cookie stroll at Epcot last night and it was yummy

Fic updates:

I had Benny Miller brain rot again (when don't I at this point?). Anyway, the result was a third part of what I guess is now the unofficial "Are You on Mute" series. I do have plans for wrapping those one-shots up into something bigger. I just frankly keep having thots I have to get out and it's distracting me😆

I did manage to get a good amount of writing done for the next chapter of Delta Landscaping. Hoping to get the new episode out early this week. Whenever I get down on myself that I'm not updating that series fast enough I remind myself it's essentially like 6 different series in one so therein lies the delays 🫣

This can be such a stressful part of the year, so I hope you are able to take some time for yourself! Have a great week and thanks for reading if you made it this far!

Masterlist

Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3

Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3

Are You on Mute? Part Two

Are You Alone

#rhoorl week in review #rhoorl fic rec #pedro pascal characters fic #garrett hedlund

34 notes · View notes

ladylooch · 1 year

Text

Loving & Leaving- Part 3

Visit the series page here.

A/N: Eep! I am so excited you all are loving this. It bring me so much joy. I am legit giddy posting this next chapter 😁 I hope you love it. This fic is consuming so much of my writing time. I'm very focused on getting these two right. I know I've nailed it when I'm editing and feel the way I want the reader to feel.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content!, Swearing, Angsty, jealousy, poor choices. ha!

Halloween was five days ago, but by the look of the streets of Hoboken, you wouldn’t know. Being from Switzerland, we don’t celebrate Halloween. But when I surprised Nico with a quick visit to America, he insisted I needed to join for the team’s get together, which had to be moved into November because of a Halloween away game. Usually, it’s done at someone’s house, but this year, no one really wanted to host, so we are heading to the bar the team frequents after home wins. Currently, I’m doing the female right of passage by freezing my ass off as we shuffle down the street. Tinker Bell was probably not the warmest choice for me, but it is definitely the sluttiest. Paired with a short, sequined green dress and a thin pair of wings, my emerald high heels reflect the yellowy hue of the New Jersey street lights.

Despite the cold, I look hot. We walk by several groups of people loitering around. I can feel eyes follow me as I move forward. My confidence grows as I smirk, weaving my arm through my brothers for balance as the sidewalk gets a little rocky. Nico wraps a secure hand around my waist before pointing to my right. There is a line to get in, unless you’re with a professional hockey player. The bass of Salt Shaker by Ying Yang Twins rattles my teeth in my head when we step into the dark space. It’s packed with any character you can imagine. I grin, looking at Nico, silently agreeing that this is going to be just as fun as he promised.

Which is exactly what I need.

Ever since Timo left me at the end of the driveway, life has taken on a shade of gray. Work has felt more like a chore than a passion. I passively agreed to a few dates with a friend’s friend, which has been fine, but nothing I want to pursue further. I’ve found myself dreaming of America, which is why I booked a quick ticket two weeks ago, then called Nico to share the news. He was surprised. I’ll be back here for Christmas and two, long international trips in a row is new behavior for me.

“I’ll never say no to a visit from you.” He concluded. And it was set.

In a red wine clouded night, I texted Timo last week to let him know I would be in town. I’m still waiting on a response. Despite his silence, I know he’s here tonight, and ignoring me when I look this good, won’t be easy for him. The group of Devils is sitting at the back of the bar in their usually spot. Nico leads the way, my hand on the back of his firefighter costume to not get lost in the sea of people.

When we reach the group, my eyes immediately find Timo. He is to my right, chatting with Dawson Mercer. He looks up as he laughs, eyes catching mine. I see him visibly suck in a breath before his eyes rake over my whole costume. He tries to hide the flicker of desire, but I know him better than that.

“Boys, you remember my sister, Emma.” Nico introduces me to the table. All the boys give drink tilts or waves except for Timo, who is suddenly fixated on a busty cat at the other table. My eyebrows tug together. He’s not fooling me, but fine, he wants to be like that, I won’t make it easy. I make my way around the table, patting each of the boys on the back until I get to the empty seat next to Timo. I plop right down next to him, grabbing his beer from his hand and chugging the rest of it.

“Uh. You’re welcome?” He questions with a snip.

“Just couldn’t wait. Go get me another.” He stares me down, blue eyes tumultuous. The cat is distracted by Ted Lasso and leaves to trail after him. Timo sighs in reservation of an opportunity blown. His chair scrapes the wood floor harshly as he knocks back from the table to go to the bar.

“Here.” He slams the golden liquid down on the table. Some of it sloshes down the glass and puddles on the table. “Kinda bullshit considering you don’t like beer.”

“Oh, I like beer. It just doesn’t like me.” It turns me into a sloppy lightweight drunk, which he is well aware of. I chug a few more sips, licking the foam from my top lip without taking my eyes from his. A whole conversation silently passed between us.

“I said I’m done.” He reminds me. Not sure who he’s trying to convince here cause he devours my lips as they plump in disbelief.

“We’ll see. Too cool for a costume?” I gesture to his white tuxedo. It’s probably a little fancier than his usual attire, but not completely out of character.

“I’m James Bond.”

“Without a martini?”

“What are you?”

“Tinker Bell.” I point to the wings on my back. His eyes hover at the way my skirt hikes further up my thigh as I cross my leg. My bare ass is practically hanging out.

“I can’t believe your brother let you out like that. And where is your coat? It’s like 30 degrees out.” I have to suck my cheeks in to avoid a smile. Even when he’s hurt and mad at me, he cares.

“Hot girls get hypothermia on Halloween. It’s like a right of passage.” I shrug.

“What do you know about Halloween?” He squints, licking his lips after a taste of his beer.

“Not much. But I know how good I look tonight.” I flick my hair back off my shoulder, scrunching it up and tossing him a kiss. “Play your cards right, Bond, and you’ll be the one in my bed.” He laughs without humor, leaning forward until he crowds my space. His cologne assaults my nose, mixing with my flowery perfume. They’re complimentary scents. His gaze drags over my face; a hint of interest is quickly squashed with a cold stare.

“I think it’s time for me to be the clear one. All you are to me tonight is my teammates’ sister.” My eyebrows draw tight together in shock. “Have a good night, Emma.” He pushes back from his chair again, following a few of his teammates across the bar to the pool tables.

What the fuck just happened?

- - -

My ears pound in steady pulses at both the loud music and my beer buzz. I sway as I attempt to return from the bathroom, bumping into Waldo.

“Sorry.” I mutter, patting his arm in acknowledgement before moving on. I get back to the group of Devils, standing next to my brother so he knows I’m back from my bathroom break. Nico hands me back my beer without looking at me.

I feel so invisible tonight. My brother doesn’t care- too busy chatting up a Powderpuff girl. Timo has been gone from the group since he referred to me as his teammate’s sister. I drunkenly snort at the memory. Sure, he must cum in all his teammate’s sisters then. I slump against Nico’s shoulder, slinging my arm around them and drawing his attention.

“Ah..” He coughs out, wiggling away from me. “My sister, Emma.” He tells the Pink Powderpuff.

“OMG! My Big is named Emma!” She shouts excitedly. I glance at Nico who shrugs. I stare back at him like, really? This one? He grins, shrugging again, silently indicating he is interested in her for only one thing… and one night.

“So fun.” I respond, tossing a fake smile on my lips. The sounds of Party in the U.S.A. blast over the speakers, so Blossom drags my brother out onto the makeshift dance floor. I shake my head at him, rolling my eyes at his choices.

That’s when I see him, pressed tightly up with another blonde. What is with him and blue eyed blondes? I have dark, chestnut hair and eyes. What’s he trying to prove here? I grab my beer, chugging down a few hefty sips before slamming the glass back on the table. He’s doing this to torture me. They’re standing close together, talking and taking fast drinks of their High Noons. He told me he didn’t like those. His smile is genuine, crinkling the corners of his eyes. I can almost hear his soft laughter from here.

She snakes an arm around his hips, stepping closer. He does the same, putting his hands on her hips. I swear a piece of my soul dies when he leans even closer to hear her speak. After months of feeling numb, I want to feel something. Anything. And he’s right here in front of me, acting like I’m nothing to him now. I can’t stand it. I want to lash out, scream, pull his face to mine and shove my tongue into his mouth until he kisses me back with as much desperation as I feel in blood right now. Instead of going to tell him that, I grab the first Devils player I can, stepping into his embrace. It’s John Marino.

“Hey.” He grins. I smile back, then slide behind him to look at Timo. His eyes are still on the blonde. If it was quieter in here, John could hear my whimper. John's hands are firmly in respectable places on my waist, barely touching me. I give him an easy smile, stepping closer so our bodies touch all along our fronts.

“You look like a good time.” I murmur to him, running my hands through the long strands of his brown hair. He’s dressed as Buzz Lightyear, dome helmet flipped up. “Can you breathe like that?” I joke, fingering the plastic.

“Barely, but not cause of the helmet.” I laugh easily, crossing my wrists at the back of his neck as we sway together. His hand slides down my lower back. A heat runs through my body that has nothing to do with John. It’s Timo. He’s watching now. I encourage John to put his hands lower, going to my tip toes to whisper in his ear.

“Must be my pixie dust.”

“It’s putting a spell on me.” His obvious interest guides his hands further down until he grips my ass in both hands. I’m guided by the ache in my chest for Timo and the undivided attention I’m getting. Maybe I could have someone else tonight, just to forget about him. He doesn’t care. He’s obsessed with anyone who isn’t me in this bar. I grin at John, tilting my lips up towards his. They never meet. A different hand comes around my waist, pulling me back into a solid, familiar chest and out of John's grip.

“That’s enough. She’s Nico’s sister for fucks sake.” Timo growls. John holds his hands up, backing away, clearly heading the warning from his left wing. It’s not John's fault. He doesn’t know who I used to belong to. Which is exactly the look Timo gives me when his blue eyes pierce mine.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Timo snarls, strong hands holding my hips in place when I try to wiggle away.

“Leave me alone.” I shoving off his chest. It’s a weak attempt and my fingers curl in, groping him more than anything else.

“You’re just doing this shit on purpose.” He spits out in disgust. Like he wasn’t just feeling up a cat? Pfffft.

“At least I’m not grinding with Jersey TRASH.” I snort. “That girl? What the fuck does she have that I don’t?” I gesture to my short green dress that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Woof, I’m drunk. And desperate.

He stares back at me. His hands are still fastened to my hips, squinting in the low lighting of the bar as the world moves around us. Then, he leans forward, resting his mouth close to my ear as he looks beyond me to where the rest of the team still sits.

“Emma, you know how perfect you are to me. But you are killing me. I’m trying to move on with my life.” Fear grips my stomach, icing my buzz and my anger. I don’t want him to move on. I want him to bring me home, falling each other and forget anything else but how good it feels when we are together.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” I stutter.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” He looks around for a sign as to where they are. He starts tugging me that way, but I stop him.

“I just want to go home.” Something about the look on my face softens him. His touch becomes gentle and safe again. It reminds me of when it’s been late, our third time around, and he’s trying to soothe the angry, red rashes he made along my hips and breasts.

“I’ll take you.” He whispers into my ear, lips slicing across my cheek.

I wrap my arm around his waist, putting my face against his pec. One of his hands moves up to my head, caressing me to his chest. He drops a kiss there then calls across the bar to my brother. I feel him motion around and Nico must understand because he doesn’t follow us out. When I hit the nippy air, I chatter in my skimpy costume. Timo shrugs his winter jacket off, wrapping it around my body as we walk the two blocks back to their apartment building. It’s not enough, so he keeps his arm around my shoulder, his body heat transferring to me. He drops his arms when we enter the building together.

“You drive me crazy.” He mutters when we are in the elevator, rolling his eyes and stretching his tense neck out. I think back to the girl at the bar, wondering if he wishes she was here instead. They would ride up to his place together. Maybe she would get on her knees and take him deep into her mouth until he couldn’t take it anymore. My stomach twists again.

I stare down at my heels in silence after that visual. I feel gross. My heavy make up is clogging my pores with each passing second. My feet hurt. The elevator spins and Timo looks like he would rather be anywhere than here with me. Tears make the floor fade as the door opens on the 13th floor. No attempt to stop at the 10th this time. Timo waits for me to step out first.

“Let’s get you in bed.” He encourages with a friendly hand on the upper back.

I dig around in my purse until I find my keys, giving them to Timo to open Nico’s apartment. He pushes the door open, allowing me to walk through first. I sulk in, tossing my purse on the floor, punting my heels off. The door quietly clicks shut. I whip my head around.

“I’m still here.” He kicks his expensive sneakers off and moves towards me with his hands in his pockets. I watch his approach with frustrated eyes. I am riding a rollercoaster of emotions right now. I hate him. I want him. I can’t stand to be in the same room with him. I think I’ll die if he leaves here without touching me. He sees all of this on my face as he stops in front of me.

“Why are you still here?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” He whispers back.

He doesn’t remove his hands from his pockets. He doesn’t step forward to touch me. Nothing. He just stares back at me like I’m some ticking bomb he should run in the opposite direction from. I hate it. Agitation builds in my body and makes my skin crawl. The elastic of the wings begins to feel like it’s cutting off the circulation in my arms. I try to wiggle my way out of them, getting frustrated.

“Fucking, stupid, cheap, pieces of crap.” I mutter, tugging at the white elastic to try and get free.

“Let me help.” Timo says, gripping my hand to stop my movements. He easily loops his fingers through the two straps, tugging them off my arms as I let them dangle behind my back.

“Thank you.” I whisper then bite my cheek. “Can you get my-” I already feel his touch on the zipper of my dress, working it slowly down, tooth by tooth, exposing my bare back and the top part of my butt. I hold my breath as he gets to the end. His strong hands spiral around my ribs to my stomach, pulling me back into his hard erection. I rest the back of my head on his shoulder and sigh.

“All night, I’ve been wondering if you were wearing anything under this. I wish I didn’t know.” He murmurs in my ear. My hair brushes along my cheek from his breath. I hear him swallow hard. “I should leave.” I don’t breathe, just continue to stare straight ahead at the hallway in front of me. I reach for his fingers, lacing mine between them and moving our hands to my hips, pushing the dress out so it falls down my body. Then, I bring them up my body, balancing the weight of my breasts in our hands.

“Jesus, Em. You’re making this so hard on me.”

“I know. I can feel it.”

“We are supposed to be done with each other.” He swipes his fingers across my hard nipples like he’s already forgotten his words. A flicker of hurt hangs in the air from his tone, but then I release one of his hands to cup his hard erection and it disappears into the desire between us. He rolls his hips into my touch.

“There are some things a girl just can’t quit. You’re one of them, Timo Meier.”

He spins me fast to face him. My lips tilt up to meet his and he kisses me back with frenzy. Our mouthes devour each other greedily. His hands run everywhere and nowhere on my body. I grope at his back, then run my hands over his taut ass, squeezing us tight together. He grinds his hips into me, pushing his erection against my stomach. His lips move from my mouth to my jaw, then down to my throat where he sucks my skin into his mouth.

“Missed how you feel in my hands, baby.” He murmurs, tongue lapping at the bruise that will go back with me to Switzerland on Sunday. I close my eyes, savoring the way he praises me. God, I missed his sweet words and strong, greedy hands.

We completely forget about being in the middle of the apartment. I shove at his white tuxedo jacket. He helps work it off his strong biceps. I pull back to stare at the suspenders running up and over his shoulders. I aggressively bite my bottom lip and snap them with my hands. He laughs, running his hands along my thighs to pick me up. I shove the straps from his shoulders then get to work on his white buttons.

“Cheater.” I murmur, unsnapping his bowtie when I’m done.

“Bow ties are not my strong point.” He insists as he carefully lays me down on the dining room table. He pulls his wallet out of his pants, tossing it to the left of me for easy access. I watch him, legs spread wide, as he gazes at my folds while undoing his pants. “You guys use this table?”

“No. We eat at the counter.” I laugh as he steps out of his pants. His boxer briefs slide down next and I groan at the sight of him jutting out, rigid and already seeping from the tip.

“That’s good. I’m going to ruin it for you.” I chuckle, reaching up for him. His lips come to mine again, a little less aggressive than before. He takes his time, savoring the feeling of me. His tongue glides along the seam then strokes against mine. I melt in his hands as they come around to protect my head from the wood. Timo sighs heavily into my mouth and I hook my ankles around his butt. He moves his bare cock through my wetness, teasing me, building the tension until my inner muscles pulse around an aching emptiness.

“Love me.” I moan out. He pulls back, searching my face. “Please. Like you said you do.”

“Not how I saw this night going.” He chuckles honestly, smoothing my wild hair back from where a piece of it had been stuck between our mouthes.

“Me either.” I answer honestly. But I ache in so many more places than just my core. My heart beats heavy in my chest, needing to feel a connection with him.

He reaches for a condom in his wallet he had tossed on the table. I grab it from his hands, throwing it to the floor.

“I want you like last time.” He hesitates, nostrils flaring, eyes trailing along my bare body, savoring every curve with his blue gaze. “I’m clean. No one else.”

“Me too.” Relief courses through me.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Em. Not interested in anyone else.” He says it to me like it’s a reminder. The familiar sound of his I love you in Switzerland causes my legs to spread wider for him.

“Show me what you thought about doing to me while we have been apart.” He moans, dropping his face to my lips again.

“I love you like this. So needy and desperate for me to fill you.” He says between teasing strokes again. He grips his cock, steadying his head against my entrance, then gliding his hips forward. My body releases in ecstasy at the feeling of him there.

“Ohmygod.” My eyebrows pull tight together in pleasure. I swallow, then gnaw on my lip as he puts his hands under my hips to pull me farther off the table. Then, he covers my body with his. His hands lace with both of mine and he makes love to me just like I begged. His thrusts are slow and sweet, focused only on my pleasure. He’s deep and generous with each thrust. I stare at him, knowing I’m falling in love with him. He brings his mouth down to mine and our tongues sloppily connect. The table begins to rattle from our movements as I match each of Timo’s deep thrusts with a moan.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He sighs into my mouth.

“Me too. Hate being home without you now.” I admit. I shouldn’t say that to him in the heat of the moment, but it’s true. I do. It’s why I’m here, as much as my brother thinks it is for him.

“I’m sorry I left you like that this summer.” He says, stroking a bit faster into me. “I hate myself for it.”

“It’s okay. I know you had to.” I bring his lips back to mine. “God damn it.” I shout as he fucks harder into me. My orgasm is pulsing within me, squeezing him with each pump.

“Say my name, sweetheart.” I moan it back to him. He puts his lips on mine afterwards, fucking me steadily as I shiver beneath him then collapse into the first wave of my orgasm. “Tell me I can come inside of you. Please.” He sounds tortured.

“Yes. God, yes. Please.” The way we both beg for each other causes a wildness between us. I moan as my second orgasm builds with his faster pumps. I shout his name as I come again, fast, harder this time. Tingles of pleasure rush down my legs so they become limp around his waist. His cum shoots out, filling me, coating my walls in the most intimate way. I grip his shoulders, shoving my face into his neck so I can feel every beat of his heart and gasping breath.

That was without a doubt the best sex we have ever had.

Timo turns his head to kiss my swollen lips. He moans into my mouth as he sputters more into me. His hands rock my hips back into him again as my feminine grunt encourages him more.

“Take me again. Just like that.” I whimper when he tries to pull away.

“Okay, but let’s go to my bed.” He kisses along my face before pulling out of me.

The second time, in Timo’s bed, surrounded by the pieces of his life, is even better.

“You fit perfectly here. Like you could just stay here forever.” He coos when we are done with a third round that started in the shower and ended on the floor of his bedroom, fingers brushing my hair back from my forehead.

“Tell me more.” I sigh, flicking my gaze on his. Fueled by love and afterglow, I barely protest as he begins to say all the usual things about the life he can give to me and all the adventures we can share together. I say nothing, just listen to him speak, thinking about what awaits for me back home. In comparison to this feeling, that life doesn’t matter much to me anymore. I think about telling him that, but it’s late and we’re both high on orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t feel completely right yet.

“You act like Switzerland doesn’t have anything to offer me. You Swiss boys dream too much.” I rub my fingers along his corse stubble. He shakes his head at me.

“Just give in to me, Hischier.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” A soft smile stretches my lips apart. He sighs out a laugh, pressing his mouth over mine. We lazily twirl our tongues together, savoring the feeling of being in each others arms again.

By midnight, we are asleep in a tangle of naked limbs, having no idea what we’ve just done.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Timo Meier #Timo Meier Smut #hockey writing #New Jersey Devils #NHL fan fiction

87 notes · View notes

indy-gray · 10 months

Text

I done got frustrated

My desire to keep my opinions to myself managed to last most of the day. New record tbh.

So like I wrote this big long rant a couple of weeks ago and decided against sharing it while I was still frustrated. But I do feel like maybe there is a larger discussion to be had! I think it's important that we as a writeblr community really take a look at why so many of us are getting so frustrated so often and how we as a community and as individuals can work towards an actually community vs a corner of social media. @blind-the-winds did an excellent job of explaining some of what I'm seeing as well in relation to why a lot of positivity and support posts and such ring hollow to so many of us. I wanted to bring a slightly different perspective to things coming from a marketing/social media marketing background. Under the cut out of respect for everyone's dashboards lol

This is going to get INCREDIBLY LONG. So I have a read more here. Behold, the bitchfest.

So this started today when I was chatting with an irl friend and expressing my frustrations about writeblr in general as a community. And what I've recognized now is this: writeblr isn't really much of a community, and it is very rare to find other creators and writers who are willing to treat you (the hypothetical writer) as another human being with a love for the same craft they do. Those people who do treat you like people are some of the loveliest people I've found on the internet, but they are hard to find.

Now, to be clear, I don't think the problem is completely writeblr's fault, nor do I believe it is any one or two or five hundred individual's fault. The problem comes from a number of different sources, and my friend did a great job of helping me see the problem from a number of different perspectives.

The problem being this: it is impossible to get engagement on posts that feature original long-form writing, and it is exceedingly difficult to effectively foster meaningful connections with other writers.

Some disclaimers: it's not impossible, and the people who successfully receive engagement on their long-form writing tend to be the people who are the exceptions proving the rule. Also, by "engagement" I mean any interaction that serves to both consume the content and spread the content. "Original" writing refers to writing that is not fandom related, and "long-form" means 1k words or more.

Do you think 1k words is a little short for "long-form" writing? Me too. I'll get to that.

I'll start my explanation here with what catalyzed these revelations in my little head. Over night, I got quite a few new followers, all directly coming from a post that got mildly popular here on writeblr. So, I looked at what other posts of mine have been popular, and I started to notice a trend.

My most popular posts tend to fit into one of three categories: memes, tag games, and boost posts/recommendations. Memes tend to be popular because they're funny and easy to spread, and as long as they fit the theme, they don't ruin a blog's aesthetic. Tag games get more interaction because I am directly tagging people to see the post. But the popularity for those posts tend to stop at the half dozen to a dozen people tagged in each given post (the person or people tagging me, and the several people I tag to continue the game). The last category is most interesting to me, the boost posts and recommendations.

Here's the thing, I only boost or rec other writers and blogs if I have invested interest and care into the person behind the blog and their content. AKA, I only really boost friends and writers I admire/like their content. It's great to see that those posts get popular with people outside my circle, but out of those three categories, none of them feature my own content.

Why is that?

It seems like every day I see a new post with a few thousand notes at least complaining about a lack of interaction on writeblr and the importance of reblogs and blah blah I rarely stop to read those let alone spread them. And a few dots connected, I think.

If my content isn't getting interaction, and your content isn't getting interaction, then what is? And I think the answer is this: memes, advice, and boosts.

Memes and advice are self-explanatory. But boosts are interesting because you will see everyone hop on to rec other people or more frequently market themselves, but they stop there. And I see my greatest influx of interaction and new followers when I boost other people's works or blogs.

My conclusion is that many people are using writeblr as a hustle and not a community. In a community we engage with each other, talk to each other, enjoy each other's company. And I've found many mutuals to be very lovely people who I do enjoy and who I love to engage with and who I like to genuinely call my friends. I like a lot of yall for different reasons too! Some of you are great hype buddies, some of yall are all about that accountability buddy system, and I really love when I get to have intellectual conversations about the craft and different concepts with different members of writeblr too.

But largely, I find that a lot of people who engage once with my blog, usually on those boost posts, or who ask for engagement more frequently than when frustration strikes, tend to be the people who think of writeblr as a hustle. They see that I (and many other writers) will boost and rec our friends, and jump on that bandwagon, but instead of putting in the effort to get to know us and our work, they say what needs to be said, hop on trends, and avoid any genuine connection.

So what gives?

It's not the individual writers, I think. It's the nature of social media, marketing, and the medium.

Listen, I work in marketing, and long-form writing is a dying art that is very difficult to market. I genuinely think the concept of "tldr" really ruined a lot of people's ability to engage with longer form writing. Whether that be nonfiction opinion posts or actual fiction. Tumblr is one of the only places I can think of where long-form writing is a feasible medium to post at all, let alone gain a following for.

Think about it: instagram is best suited for images, videos, and short-form aestheticized poetry. Twitter has a character limit that requires long threads of individual tweets or images to get your message across. Pitch events are well-suited for twitter because your pitch by definition needs to be short. But sharing actual summaries, snippets, or excerpts? Not really possible. Tiktok is for videos, which as we know can be utilized, but is not the most efficient method of marketing written word. Ao3 is an archive with an excellent tagging system, but to get readers, outside marketing is required. Facebook requires a real name, and isn't really well suited for content creation either. Wattpad, Royal Road, and others are great for posting actual works, but they don't necessarily have well-functioning tag systems that help the author find their audience. That really just leaves Tumblr. Pillowfort is also an option, though it's still so in the beginning phase of development that it's pretty difficult to get started there.

It's well known in marketing that images and videos catch attention and long paragraphs of text (AKA what most prose looks like) tend to be scrolled past. The very nature of the long-form writing medium is against most marketing techniques. Marketing long-form writing needs to look different from any other medium.

All that being said: the culture of social media engagement has shifted, and this is a conversation that fandom has been having and I think has actually been doing well discussing the different facets of how the culture has shifted. Fandom (and content creation in general) is seen as a commodity to be consumed. Consumers want to see the content, maybe save it for later, and then move on to the next piece. This is easily done with visual mediums, but writing mediums are especially vulnerable to this culture shift because it does require so much time and energy to consume, let alone engage.

Creators don't see their work as a commodity to be consumed, but it is now. When consumers view a piece of visual media, they view the image (consume it) and then move to the next, some will spread it to others by engaging with the picture through reblogs or sending the post to someone else. But most often, there will be a "like" to tell the creator good job, and then scroll to the next. This is harder to do with written media unless one has the time and energy to read the piece. There's the extra step of critical thought.

To put it a different way, the market is flooded with content and creators. With so much to choose from, the consumer now does not have to participate in the community to ensure continued creation. There will be another creator tomorrow. The consumer no longer feels connected to a community of their interests, it is simply being sold to them.

So back to writeblr, this is where I am at a crossroads. I am tired of creating content to be consumed, I want community. But also, I have nowhere else to turn. I can either completely withdraw from what sliver of community I have found, or I can keep trucking along, create my stuff, play the games we play, chat with the people I do like and do care about, and hope that I don't get too frustrated one day and leave for good.

73 notes · View notes

tleeaves · 5 months

Text

Wasting Beats In This Heart Of Mine - how it would have ended

Hello, folks! As some of you already know or have heard me mention previously, my TLH fanfic WBITHOM is coming to an end. I am no longer comfortable with it being in the public eye since it involves a lot of personal stuff for me, and so I have decided to delete the fic entirely on every platform it's been published on (that's Quotev, AO3, and Wattpad) rather than rewrite the entire thing. This will also finally give me the chance to focus on other written works. Maybe I'll return to fandom with a rewrite one day for anyone interested, but for now, the future is dedicated to other things. The fic will be deleted in 48 hours, so readers on Quotev and AO3 have a chance to download the unfinished fic if they so desire before then or just have one last read. I ask that no one rewrites or adds an ending to my fic and publishes it anywhere without my knowledge and permission. Never put an author's work through AI either. I still have several copies of my fanfic and its outline, so I will always have evidence of where the story comes from.

WBITHOM is a monster, with the master document coming to well over 150,000 words and the fic so far being ~146,000 words (the entire outline and all my notes makes up over 4,000 words, yes). I predict that, had I finished the fic, it would come close to 188,000 words (so, there was a decent ways to go still). It's the biggest thing I've attempted, but because of that, it is also the most time-consuming (it's been almost a year and a half of writing, and each chapter either takes two full days to write or weeks) and it takes up the most space in my head, not really leaving room for the other ideas I want to explore.

So, as someone suggested, I thought I'd give readers who were hoping to see the fic to its proper end some closure. That's what this post is for: how it would have ended. Along the way, I'll explain some things too about recurring themes and motifs and all manner of behind the scenes and thoughts behind my ideas.

Character Arc Summaries

As readers know, this story follows the characters of Lila Raftis, James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs, and Matthew Fairchild. They're all the most significant figures, though we do see other perspectives and side characters too. Essentially, Lila Raftis struggles with loneliness due to a myriad of other issues she has to work through, and James Herondale's arc starts with his depression and turns into a journey to authenticity where he feels like his own person and not just what he has been written or expected to be. Cordelia Carstairs' physical state of being lost extends to how lost she is within, and she ends realising that she has been continuously defining herself through other people. I see her as leaving London and the love triangle with James and (unconfessed) Matthew (and Lila) to deconstruct a lot of the ideals she was trying to live up to and why. As for Matthew Fairchild, I made the deliberate decision for him to turn into a werewolf and have that separation from Shadowhunter society so that he could pursue the arts and build a better life that he would find more satisfaction with, also eventually becoming sober. I took inspiration from his time at the academy, particularly when he turns to Lila in one of the earlier acts and asks if it's so bad to not be a Shadowhunter. At first, he regrets turning, but I planned for him to wind up relieved.

Honestly, while this work is very self-insert (and that's not a bad thing generally, but I've been finding it uncomfortable as time goes on, so that's why I prefer to take it down and keep it to myself), it was also my way of going How It Should Have Ended for the TLH series as a whole. I started it before ChoT, yes, but that book only led to minor changes and alternate paths taken -- I was already using ChoI as a base to steer these characters in the directions I thought they should go.

The Rest Of Act Three

The rest of Act Three of the fanfic is summarised below (...at length. It's a lengthy summary).

We ended the fanfic on the chapter where James and Lila returned to London, 1903 of his dimension. He was gravely wounded in his left arm, which ends up being amputated despite the efforts of Lila and Lucie (and Gus' help too). This is, of course, a reference to the recent fan art of James where a headcanon went around that the reason we couldn't see his other arm was because it just didn't exist. I took it and ran, which was not planned. I knew I wanted James injured so that Lila could return the care he once had shown her when she was wounded badly, but it wasn't going to be as severe as it ended up being. This is how we ended up at the Institute instead of 48 Curzon Street as I had previously planned for the chapter. James was going to be fine, but Cordelia had decided to confront Lila about several things, and they'd end the night having kissed -- which in turn leads Lila to going for a walk to clear her head and her subsequently getting kidnapped by Jonathan Bell (the Other James from another dimension). Anyway, the change did make some of these plot points awkward (😭) hence why I spent ages editing the make out between Lila and Cordelia because I could not decide how it should start and end. It was a nightmare. As Silver pointed out, it didn't make a whole lot of sense in the order of events (Cordelia should have gone to see James first), but I was in a mad rush to finally release the update since I knew people were waiting. The kidnapping also was not quite as dramatic as I envisioned it, but oh well. I'm actually quite happy with the rest of the chapter though.

From there comes the rest of the fic that readers probably will not get to experience, so that's why I'm writing this out, so you at least know the mysteries that I won't get to reveal and how we get to the end.

Jonathan Bell kidnaps Lila and, through the use of shadow, they end up in Paris, France. This is where Matthew also fled after his mother released him from the Silent City cells after he persuaded her into it. Lila ending up there and being away from both James and Cordelia, and spending more one-on-one time with our antagonist and Matthew since the earlier parts of the book was always intended.

Jonathan is revealed to have possession of another silver pen, which is a reference to a previous fanfic I wrote (also deleted) called Chain of Lies, where the pen could literally rewrite reality if you used your own blood for ink. In Jonathan's dimension, Lila ended up staying in his world and marrying him, but she also dies of a mysterious sickness during their honeymoon, so he uses the pen to go back in time and cancel their honeymoon, under the impression she would not get sick. Instead, she was hit by a car several days earlier, and died in the accident. Jonathan goes back again to stop that from happening, but Lila ends up dying again anyway, over and over again in different ways, every time Jonathan reverses time to prevent each event from occurring. Eventually, he goes so far back in their timeline together that he's reliving the December when they met, and that's how he knows how to divert the accidents in WBITHOM that threaten harm to this other dimension's Lila (are you still with me?). But before that, he created a time loop in that December of his dimension just trying to keep Lila alive for two years of his life whereas everyone else remained the same, but stuck in time. It's supposed to be very angsty and tragic, and it's a demonstration of one of James Herondale's core traits eventually twisting horribly wrong: how he would do anything for those he loves, whether that be family, friends, or lovers.

This character flaw/strength is something I reference lightly a few times throughout the fanfic, mostly in the ways he is concerned about the safety of his family and friends which he tries to find out from Lila, who has read Chain of Iron and knows what the future is supposed to be, and then how he reflects on how he does not know what he would do when someone he loves dies. Honestly, the issue is that he cares too much about people, which is both a good thing and a bad thing, depending on how far it goes. Jonathan is the literal embodiment of what would happen if James' care went too far, if it bordered on obsession, if he wanted to keep someone from dying so bad that he would sacrifice everything else, even the universe.

So, Jonathan finally confesses to the time-loop and explains that as a drastic measure, he tried finding Lila in another dimension to see if he could save her there, but this tearing of the time-loop to escape it worsened a tear that Cordelia had already created in her fight with Belial and the Mandikhor to such a point that it started growing and expanding and destroying the fabric of time and space between dimensions and the universe as a whole. You know, wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff (Doctor Who reference for those who get it). The thing he did not realise though is that in this timeline, Lila is not meant to die, so long as she goes back home instead of staying in 1903 (he still doesn't know this, it's just a fact I would have explained to the readers when we meet Circe, the employer of Poppy Morad (P.M.) and Saint Nicholas). This is supposed to leave Lila conflicted, because as much as she wants to hate his guts for being the reason for her family disappearing and the worlds ending, even this Other James is a reflection of her own nature, which is another thing that's been lingering beneath the surface for the duration as the fic: while James has a doppelganger that demonstrates who he might become if he cannot accept loss, he and Lila have similarities boiling beneath the surface that go unnoticed until an outburst we saw Lila have where she basically accuses James of being just like her (not complimentary at the time).

Lila as a character is someone who cares deeply, but is willing to sacrifice herself and others to protect what or who she cares deeply about (yet we also see her choose self-preservation over self-sacrifice a few times before she truly starts acting in service of others). Her circle of people she cares about is more limited than James', but the shared sentiments still stand. Plus, the way Jonathan has acted this entire time has always bordered on unnerving or odd -- I did that on purpose. He's been driven to obsession, where he's basically an extreme of what James and Lila believe in. And he is both James and not James in this way, if that makes sense. We see in one of Lila's nightmares earlier in the book Jonathan saying it does not matter which version of him he is or which version of her she is -- they belong together. Fully delusional at this point, but it's meant to be scary. I'm kind of obsessed that Jonathan is also a mirror for Lila to see how she might look to her James: someone who knows you way too well, but you've also never met nor know much about at all (she might know James but she does not know this one), who's inexplicably fixated on you (granted, James did not even begin to guess Lila's feelings, and hers were rather superficial in a way until they spent more time together).

Anyway, basically, the start of this rewrite of Chain of Lies pretty much began with these dynamics between the two Jameses and Lila. It was a whole thing with diagrams and late night ranting to my poor sister and everything.

So, of course, Lila is conflicted and she also does not know how she's supposed to get Jonathan to reverse the problem he has created -- whether he's also supposed to go back to his dimension and whether that will be enough to repair the tear. Most of this happens in the Notre Dame cathedral because I said so (I like cathedrals as settings, sue me if you dare).

Meanwhile, Matthew has been in Paris and totally avoiding Charles, so he also hears nothing of Will and Tessa being notified about James' injury in London and leaving by portal. But he does hear some French Shadowhunter gossip about the Consul's werewolf son's disappearance when he discovers Lila being taken to the cathedral by a masked man. Then ensues a solo rescue operation. Honestly, I always have a lot of fun writing Matthew, it's hard not to include him more. Anyway, the rescue is successful, and he takes Lila back to his hotel room to lay low for the night before he gets her back to London with the others (since he recognises that they must have no idea where she is, what happened, and she's an integral part of solving this whole mess, as people are still disappearing in this world).

I had a really nice scene planned that I'd been waiting the entire book to write, but basically Lila and Matthew spend a sober night together (as opposed to their time in the Silent City together) where they talk about all their woes, including their love lives, and eventually they get on to the topic of how they could have smoothed over both their dilemmas if they just had each other as lovers, if only their similarities were not such that would probably be self-destructive at this point in their lives. Because we've seen often in the book other characters compare these two, but it's these two themselves who recognise that, yes, they are alike in some ways, but not the ways it counts in order to have a healthy romantic relationship. They settle on being good friends. Matthew also takes her measurements so they can pick up some quick changes of clothes since Lila's still wearing her grimy outfit she wore during the explosion. And she also brings up that she knows he's an artist, but asks that she have the chance to sketch him, and he offers to do so in return, so they spend the rest of the night drawing, which I just find so sweet. There's not much significance in that at face value, it's just cute, but I also see Matthew embracing an old hobby as one of the first steps he takes in moving on from all his pain and finding better outlets for it.

Also, the platonic nature between Lila and Matthew, the complicated romance with James and Cordelia, and then all the familial themes and side-plots going on are all part of an idea I had going into this that I wanted to demonstrate many facets of love and the importance of each in their individual right. If anything, given the extreme slowburn I've come at James/Lila/Cordelia with particularly, I want to end this book purposefully with none of them winding up together because so many other things mattered more than their romance, and even the kind of loves they have for each other are a reason they don't end up staying because they would all rather see each other safe and not see each other at all than know they might cause other problems by being in the wrong dimensions.

Anyway, because I do multiple perspectives for everything, while Matthew and Lila and Jonathan have their bit going on in Paris, back in London we see James coming to terms with his disability and in all his rumination over what's happened and Lila being missing but him being unable to go out and find her, James finally (FINALLY!) realises his romantic feelings for Lila. This also leads to a scene between him and Cordelia where they both discuss Lila and their feelings for her. Cordelia also confesses how she has felt for James for a long time, but she also explains that she wants nothing to come of it anymore because she does not see herself settling down with him like she previously thought. James is a bit stung by this (I mean, my guy had no idea about Cordelia's true feelings until now and then she also springs a rejection on him at the same time when he's just begun to realise some of his own feelings around her) but is ultimately relieved since he feels he needs more time to figure out who he is and the life he wants without the bracelet numbing him.

We also would have seen Poppy Morad and Saint Nicholas again and their increasing distress and alarm with how difficult Jonathan Bell has been to track and control since he's hared of to Paris with Lila.

When Jonathan finds out Lila's gone, he feels betrayed and frustrated by his failure. Because while he feels he has saved her, she's refusing to be his as she once was in his dimension (also why he was confused and then against her leaving and going home earlier in the story). The world is breaking down around him (we start to see parts of Paris going up in flames, not unlike London 2021 of Lila's dimension) and he's about to go track Lila down again (but now he's going a bit more heavily into Villain Mode).

We also see Poppy Morad closing in on Jonathan as he returns to London when she's defecting orders from Circe, her higher up, to take him down instead of corralling Lila's effects on the timeline.

Lila and Matthew return to London on Christmas Eve just hours before the end of the world properly starts in 1903. This is also when she and James interact for the first time since he passed out on the bridge several days ago. I was a bit undecided on how I wanted this scene to look, other than I needed them to finally confess their feelings for each other in the rain like a cliche after they have an argument where Lila says that James has everything she wants (and this is where we realise the root of her problem in this whole book is not simply loneliness, but a dissatisfaction with herself and her life, which has lent itself to the more superficial issues she's been having) but that ultimately she also just wanted him though she knows she cannot be with him without risking everything. So, when James confesses his side, they decide to spend what little time they have left with each other as best as they can. (And this where I as an author push them together like Barbie dolls and go "now kiss").

Have I mentioned this story has too many layers and plot points and it's been driving me mad this entire time I've been writing it? Anyway.

They quickly determine with The Gang™️ that "Belial" and "Lilith" are not who they seem to be anymore, because while Alastair just got arrested for the murder of Lilian Highsmith (oh yeah, that happens while Lila and Matthew are in Paris, because I wanted a reversal where it's Thomas who stands up for Alastair when he's accused of murder, just for funsies) everything else that has happened seems to be related to whoever this P.M. (remember when Cordelia was also accused of murder because Filomena thought she saw Cordelia when she was attacked?) and Matthew body double is (spoiler: Poppy Morad and Saint Nicholas are codenames for other versions of Cordelia Carstairs and Matthew Fairchild in another timeline, I'll explain more about this later, but what you can probably surmise already is that this alternate Cordelia has taken the place of Belial within this dimension and is the one murdering all the victims (including her father. That was a difficult point, because we see in a PM and Saint Nick scene that he's concerned about whether she can go through with it) and Matthew has taken Lilith's place in some minor ways (like hiding and then handing back Cortana at the right moments)).

Anyway, because Lila's kind of behind on some events, she goes to confess to Cordelia (but explain how she also feels about James), when Cordelia says there's a lot more she wants out of life before she pursues romance again. That she's been so consumed by it, by finding love, by getting married, she's lost who she is beneath it all. (Have you noticed the theme for every character in this fic is basically authenticity and finding oneself despite whatever circumstances they find themselves in?)

Then, we also would have seen Lila dedicate herself to taking down Jonathan herself since he's the main problem that's tearing things apart and perhaps if he's killed then he can no longer influence time and reality.

Vaguely, I had planned that James and Lila would have what my outline says is "an emotional night together" because it could mean literally anything and I wasn't totally sure where I wanted it to go. So. Interpret that one how you will with whatever you prefer, honestly. Anyway, while that's happening, we see Matthew go home to his mother who is, understandably, worried sick and mad because he never wrote to her like he was supposed to and Charles return without him. We see Matthew collapse into her arms and just sob. That was the plan. It's important to me that he's actually vulnerable with her for once and that he, a young man too big to be in his mother's arms, lets himself be held anyway. There was also supposed to be a wholesome Thomastair moment that I hadn't really planned, though I knew Alastair would go home with Cordelia afterwards and she would start her journey to forgiving him. We also would have seen her kneel in front of Sona to confess A Whole Lot Of Things about what's been happening in her life, from as early as the marriage blanc and the Blackthorn Manor incident. Basically, everything is supposed to be hopeful even if it hurts just a bit and feels a little bittersweet. Because then in the chapter this all would have taken place in, we'd end with Saint Nicholas and Poppy Morad collecting the pithos from Christopher who picked it up in the background of everything (basically, all the Belial storyline has still been operating as it should, except it's being orchestrated by PM instead of Belial), when Jonathan sneaks up on them and fatally wounds (he had the intent to kill) Saint Nicholas, who he is shocked to find out in that moment is an alternate Matthew.

AND THEN, next chapter we would have had at the tolling of midnight, signaling Christmas day, PM the alternate Cordelia (whose character is the way it is because she's been hardened by some long and traumatic years -- she and alternate Matthew have a tragic backstory that I've been keeping in my back pocket that wasn't really necessary to be explained in the story, but if you want to know more, just ask) drags a dying alternate Matthew back to their tent where Circe, their mysterious employer, is torn away from her work elsewhere to start enacting emergency world-fixing in this timeline. This is also when we find out Circe's identity: she is Cassandra Clare, once again (if you read Chain of Lies) who's codename was derived from the common shortened CC she's referred to in fandom, who has universal powers and basically controls (to an extent) a good portion of the universe. Like a god. But also not. It's a whole mysterious thing that I never intended to explain because I think some things are better unexplained.

THEN, Jonathan shows up to 48 Curzon Street, covered in blood and calling for Lila. A fight between him and James (and sort of Lila who's attacking Jonathan though he refuses to attack her) ensues before he ends it all by taking out a silver pen (The Silver Pen) where we see 'Nikoletta' engraved on it, and writes a time-loop which snaps the final threads keeping all the timelines and dimensions in order.

Act Four Explained Slightly More Briefly

This is the final act of the book and also the shortest. It was planned to only be about six chapters long. Now, I was most excited about this part of the book because I had ✨visions✨. No, literally, the entire inspiration of this entire fanfic came from a dream I had about James Herondale as Spider-Man, me impersonating Cordelia Carstairs and not knowing how to do Shadowhunter things, Santa Claus as Father Time, and the end of the universe, and this is where we would have finally get to see it all come together.

We kick it off with an entire chapter dedicated to a lot of scenes similar to what I've written earlier in the book with Lila and James' nightmares, where nothing makes complete sense and yet the reader is meant to feel on the cusp of understanding something alongside the characters before the dreams usually end. Only they don't here. The dreams are reality, but reality is broken, and there is no waking up because there is also no sleeping and there is no normal but faint memories of what came before. So not only is the environment ever-shifting (think of it almost like a kaleidoscope and you have maybe a quarter of my vision here), but the people also keep "glitching" between different versions of themselves at different points in time and in different realities even (sometimes the doubles join and then they split apart, it's a weird nightmareish sort of thing in my mind), and so they also have different memories and levels of knowledge about things that have happened and what's going on. We see it mostly through Lila and James' perspectives. There's supposed to be a lot of angst and a feel like everything is a fever dream.

In the next chapter, things only start to get slightly ordered when Jonathan Bell finds Lila and says he'll rewrite the universe she wants so that it's perfect for her, and can have it be anything she wants, so long as they are together (major creep vibes though, honestly, as sweet as this might sound to some). This is also me addressing a problem from my original fanfic before this one, Chain of Lies, where I basically gave that silver pen waaay too much power, and now I'm demonstrating what it can do and so, like the one ring to rule them all, it must be destroyed (once Lila or someone else gets a hold of it to rewrite and fix the fabric of everything). Alastair saves Lila from Jonathan this time (he's still a bit prickly, but we see he still cares about Lila anyway), and demands she go find Cordelia to end Jonathan (Cordelia has Cortana which can cut through anything, which is important). Then we also would have seen that James is stranded somewhere with a fluctuating Matthew (the vision is that he keeps changing states from a werewolf to a living corpse to himself at various ages) and they are attempting to find PM, the alternate Cordelia, who knows Circe who should be able to fix everything as PM explains (she got separated from Circe and Saint Nicholas when the world went crazy). She leads them partway before she's taken by the collapsing world (she disappears basically, because that can still happen to people). When Lila finds her Cordelia, she's in the Paladin state (imagine glowing eyes and a vague aura of scariness with a glowing sword and you've got it) and it takes a bit to get through to her so they can make a plan to take down Jonathan.

Chapter after that, we have Cordelia distracting Jonathan so Lila can steal the pen, but she realises she does not know how to write an ending that does not kill all the Jameses since, as Jonathan once put it in her nightmares, "it does not matter which version of him I am... we are the same". This hesitance gets Cordelia fatally wounded, though she's not quite dead yet, but it's the final push Lila needs to kill Jonathan with Cortana (as also seen in a dream she had ages ago without realising it), and Circe finally manages to pull enough worldly strings in this chaos to pause time long enough for James and Lila to reunite to do the re-writing with her.

From there, we have two alternate paths. I called these basically "the happy ending that could have been" and "the bittersweet ending that was", which I was inspired to write by The Umbrella Academy (if you know, you know, I won't spoil it for anyone else who doesn't).

In the happy ending that could have been, we see the characters a couple years down the line. We also find out that Lila would not have died like she did in the other universe. She and James are together and they end up planning to propose to each other on the same day, which is the day after Lila successfully ascends. Then we see Cordelia and Matthew travelling together across the world as friends. After that, we would have seen Thomas and Alastair having dinner at the Lightwoods'. Finally, the Raftis family believe Lila is missing, presumed dead, but after a couple years they are finally moving on.

The bittersweet ending that was though is where Lila goes home. The friends she's made in London 1903 see her off before James takes her back to her dimension where they'd have one final goodbye on Blackfriars Bridge. That night, Cordelia gets on a train to set off and travel on her own. We also see Matthew, who has already picked up Oscar a couple days earlier, going to Gus' flat to complain that Oscar misses Gus and would not stop whining until they came by. We see Matthew finally tentatively suggest a first date, and Gus would accept. We close this part of the ending much like we started the book, with James walking alone in the night, just as he was when he left the Devil Tavern and his story took a different direction to canon when he found himself outside Cornwall Gardens where he met with Alastair. This time, James is alone, and he's feeling a little hopeful about the future ahead.

We get one final chapter before the epilogue where it's mostly Lila's perspective as she finally gets to experience Christmas with her family in 2021 and I planned for the beginning of some family healing and bonding to occur. Then we would have seen future James once more, who it turns out is now tasked by Circe (CC) with maintaining the space between dimensions, but this means he can't be in any one for very long since it's a lot of work that takes up time.

And now we get to the epilogue. Every time I imagine this, I get a little emotional. The epilogue would have began several years in the future with Lila dropping a bi-annual letter into the Thames, which I liken to the River Styx, in that it's where all lost things end up. We see, rather comedically, that she has moved out with the money she gained from some things she "stole" from Curzon Street, as well as her mysterious finding of the adamas, which scientists in her world are still amazed by. We are surprised to see though that when she goes home, she's living with the version of Matthew who nearly died in his previous role as Saint Nicholas, because CC gave him a chance to live out a new life elsewhere, in a dimension where there was not another version of himself. He and Lila seem to be doing well.

We cut to James of around December 1905 who has gone to visit his family at the Institute, where Lucie and Jesse are pouring over Cordelia's latest letter from abroad. James says he was just at Matthew's flat, and Gus was telling him about theories of time travel that the mundanes at the university Gus attends were discussing. We also find out that James himself has written a book, a science fiction piece with a ridiculously long title, about different worlds and the doubles of people that exist. After the dinner, he goes to Blackfriars Bridge and produces several of Lila's letters out of a pocket before stowing them away and shadow travelling to her dimension to leave a letter for her.

The fanfic would have ended on James' letter, which mentions briefly that he is having nightmares again of Belial's return since they have heard nothing have what happened with CC. Aside from that, the letter is rather sweet. But we see that Lila never gets a chance to read it, because CC collects it first and burns it with a lighter while humming "it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas".

Concluding Words

And that, ladies, gents, and fair folk, was how Wasting Beats In This Heart Of Mine would have ended. It has potential for a sequel. One I never want to write except in my head because, man, I am so exhausted by this fanfic alone after I already did it as a rewrite of Chain of Lies. If anything, this is the sequel to Chain of Lies and the next potential story would be the third book. It's been a long few years, I'll tell you that.

Some final things:

If you're wondering about that green coat I was always mentioning: it was supposed to be my tell, along with the gold-ringed eyes, for Saint Nicholas being an alternate Matthew, who is also the leader of the SoHo wolf pack in his origin universe. For Poppy Morad as the alternate Cordelia, who worked as Matthew's partner in time shenanigans, it was the fact that people forgot her face once they saw it because of a facial rune she applies (one that does not exist but she has courtesy of working for The CC). That's why people often knew they saw Cordelia, but could not remember the details of that meeting, if they managed to remember her at all.

The reason Lila has essentially what I call "a death aura" is because of her alternate selves, many of whom die, and it's something that leaks between worlds as the walls steadily break down.

At some point in Le Grand Reveal Of The Time-loop, Lila realises that the detailing on Jonathan's mask matches the floral detail on the back of The Joker card she's been carrying around with her sister's initials this whole time, which hints at just how significant some of the objects in this story are and the meanings they can give (The Fool and The Master being other common names for the card, related to its unpredictability and capability of being anything).

Jonathan wears, obviously, his crimson cape, but his clothes are a deep navy blue and this is part of my reference to Spider-Man and the original dream that inspired all of this.

Future James does indeed have diamond stud earrings. I said so.

At the end of the book, CC would have reinstated Lilith and Belial (whom she removed for previously causing problems in other dimensions where they became too aware of alternate timelines) with altered memories, so the stories can generally continue where they left off (some a couple years later, which has some interesting effects if I wrote the next book, in theory).

And I think that's all I have. But if anyone has any questions at all, feel free to reply to the post to ask, message me, or put it straight into the ask box, I'm more than happy to answer since I'm already depriving you of a properly written-out neat ending to everything. Reminder that I am deleting the fanfic WBITHOM in roughly 48 hours from the time of this post, so after that it will not be available on any public platforms for reading. I am not taking down any of my other fanfics (except for the few that I already have some weeks ago).

Thank you to the readers who have supported me on this longass journey. You were often the reason I kept going when I wanted to give up on writing fanfic, especially writing this one, which has been a very trying process (I mean, it took me half a day just to explain the last approximate third of the damn book, for crying out loud). I appreciate the kudos, the comments, and all the enthusiasm. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Take care now, and I'll see you in the updates of other works in the future.

-- streettealee

P.S. special thank you to @thevagabondexpress who endured many hours of me blabbering way too much about this fic and these characters, who I pestered to give me feedback as I fretted over whether I was doing everything right (spoiler: there's no right way, just better ways), and who cared about this when I struggled to. You suggested I might find a way to give readers some closure. And so I also give thanks to @faithfromanewperspective, who went nuts for an Australian OC (understandably, as I would too) and blazed through my entire fic and encouraged me inadvertently to start updating again after a long dry spell. You still absolutely get to see my drafts and outline next time we catch up in person, but I hope for now that this is a good description of the rest of what the book would have been and it gives you some closure, as well as for the other readers. Thank you also to @quantummeep for reading and commenting! I can never get out of my head how even early on in your reading you recognised all the plot threads that I had been weaving together, and it meant so much to me that you appreciated the level of detail I tried to work with.

Thank you all and to the other readers who also supported me 💛

#wasting beats in this heart of mine #wbithom #the last hours fanfic #tlh fanfic

21 notes · View notes