#i don’t have my meds so i’m saying whatever

[love-that-we-were-in]

betting on all three for us two

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none

author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you

1. 

The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break. 

You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study. 

It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.

Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining. 

While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day. 

“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.

You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point. 

“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”

You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.

“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?” 

Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day. 

Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.

Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear. 

“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?” 

“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.” 

“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.” 

He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home. 

“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”

You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing. 

“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.” 

Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish. 

You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.

“I will take that deal.”

2. 

You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now. 

The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute. 

Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room. 

“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose. 

“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.” 

Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t. 

“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.” 

“What?”

His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?” 

You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected. 

This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down. 

“I just think that hat is stupid.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.” 

“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?” 

He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left. 

You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round. 

When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.” 

3.

You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands. 

Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using. 

There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that. 

He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back. 

It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges. 

You’re kind of obsessed with it. 

An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you. 

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.” 

“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.” 

Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.” 

In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.

More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”

“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.” 

“I know.”

In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it. 

+1.

Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy. 

“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.” 

In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong. 

“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off. 

“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.” 

You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel. 

*

Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh. 

“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him. 

“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.” 

“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.” 

“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.” 

“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”

She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.

Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him. 

Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee. 

“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.” 

“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” 

Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.” 

“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.” 

You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it. 

“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.” 

There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is. 

Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly. 

“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”

“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”

“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.

Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too. 

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

the best duos are a tired confused autistic and a chaotic audhd

#this is about bringing up baby but like could also be so many others #(it’s also specifically about what’s up doc a kind of remake of bringing up baby) #also this is eddie and buck #or cas and dean #god this is literally my favorite dynamic #i don’t have my meds so i’m saying whatever #rey actually speaks #i edited this because i thought i said tired originally but yknow i forget words

[transsexual-dandelions]

bipolar brigade rise up!!! those swifties couldn't handle it at the best of times 😒

Literally !! I cannot stand Taylor swift and I hate the swift ones even more !! i don’t think they understand the severity of it all I genuinely don’t remember anything from any kind of episode or swing my brain blocks it all out except for maybe vague memories and emotions after the fact !

#I have a memory of just one of my first manic episodes bc I wasn’t on the right meds yet I had just been diagnosed basically #and just getting into an unnecessary argument with my sister and almost entirely ruining my relationship with her because of it #the only thing I remember is that there was an argument and the most vile insults you could only dream of. I don’t even remember what they #were just the disgust of having even considering directing them at my sister of all people #like yeah I’m all for dark humor and joking abt ur disorders but like. this is not that #Apollo answers #also bipolar brigade goes so hard #sorry if this is like too much or whatever I just say shit

[floral-hex]

I’m so over emotional right now. read that Jimmy Buffett died surrounded by his friends and family and started crying. not that he died. that everyone he loved, that loved him, was there with him in his final moments. and his dogs! his dogs were there, too! something about it is so beautiful and nice and fuck, I am bummed he died, but that he went out surrounded by his loved ones makes it seem okay. I’m glad he got that in the end. That knowing you’re loved and you’ll be remembered. I think that’s all we can really hope for in the end.

#hi I am in emotional crisis #I can’t say I was a HUGE Buffett fan buuut… #I do have at least one of his books (ironically?) and who can’t get down on some of his music? #but also my dad is a big Jimmy Buffett fan and so it feels like a part of his has died now #I love my dad but in a distant diety way. the kind you prayed to as a child but now you only really know in memory #I never talk to him but I love him and whenever one of the few things I know he enjoys dies it’s like I lose another little connection #he loved Anthony Bourdain. He loved Jimmy Buffett. god please someone watch over Chris Isaak for me! #I’m a mess #my emotions are everywhere tonight. #I was angry and disconnected for hours and now I’m just sad and lonely and anything could make me cry #I need a hug #I don’t want pity but I do want love #blegh #anyway… my brain is slowly coming back online. I can read a bit better now. #just needed to take meds and eat and whatnot #going to take a shower and I went and got some snacks to treat myself #but whatever. I love you stranger #or I don’t but pretend I do. I’ll pretend too. I want you to feel good. #you can ignore this #hug your pets please #hug me too if your arms can reach #text

[actualnymph]

i have a doctors appt next month and im trying to figure out how to talk abt my mental health but i feel like there’s no point bc every time ive talked abt it in the past therapy’s suggested and im not doing that

#it’s too expensive and I hated therapy every time I’ve gone bc they all say the same things like I’m too self aware…also they rub me the #wrong way in general I don’t feel comfy with therapists and I can’t afford to shop around to find a good one #but also. in the past I’ve been told I need to go to a therapist/psychiatrist to get meds which is so ☹️ like what is the point of talking #abt my mental health then. literally there’s no point also I don’t wanna be Honest and then get sent to a psych ward. so really I’m so #fucking frustrated like I want to feel better but I can’t even talk abt it 😭 #also meds wouldn’t even help me fully bc I have genuine issues in my life that I can’t resolve so 🤪 whatever I guess. choosing to rot. #t

[little-eye-guy]

mom asked me what’s wrong and i said i’m tired and she asked why don’t i just go sleep. well on account of not being able to do that, mostly

#eye guy speaks #uc posting #‘why can’t you sleep’ the ulcers???? you know this….. #plus it’s not even comfortable to lie in bed at all because i have to lie on my back #also i’m more than just tired im kinda weak n whatever #but i didn’t wanna explain all that and have her get more upset #she asked why i haven’t talked to the dr. then got upset because the dr isn’t doing anything to help #well what are they supposed to do right now. i’m just waiting on the meds to finally start working #i already told her i’ve been doing better idk what she wants from me #and when she asks how i’m feeling and i just go ‘eh’ she always wants More than that #i don’t want to say more. i don’t want to talk and talk and talk about it #i just wanna sit and not talk. im tired. #when im shuffling around the house or making a strained expression she always asks Why #she asks if i’m ok and i say Yes because if i said No she’d freak out #but then she asks Then why are you doing that and i say The Ulcers and she says So you’re not ok then #and asks if i need to go to the hospital #i know she’s just worried she worries so much #but idk what im supposed to do here idk what to say

[roaringroa]

had a panic attack at the airport 🤪🤪🤪

#actually it started before the airport but i had to go catch a flight so i just ignored it #and then it didn’t go away so like 20 min before boarding i called my therapist and she calmed me down #and since there was no pharmacy in the boarding section of the airport and i forgot my calming meds at home like an idiot #i instead bought a beanie baby ball cause i needed something to squeeze #so now i’m in the plane waiting to fly squeezing a beanie baby ball lol #hate panic attacks so much cause i always believe 100% that i’m going to die #like i’ve calmed down now and yet i still tected my parents/friends saying i love you etc #not in a way that indicated i had the panic attack cause i don’t want them to worry but still #just a ‘boarded my plane i love you!’ #and yet i had never done that when flying alone before #i’m not usually scared of planes and even now i’m still not #what i’m always always afraid of is having a heart attack #even though i have no heart or related diseases and no precedent in my family #except for like my grandpa when he was very old #idk man i just feel like it’s how i’ll die #and i started having a panic attack because i felt like i was gonna have one now #and having to fly today made it worse cause like if i have a heart attack in the middle of a flight there’s no much one can do to help #but whatever i know i won’t have one #and the flight is only 2.5 hours long #so if by the time i get there i still feel this way i’ll ask my parents to take me to the hospital to do heart exams #i’ve been to the hospital because of that before and it was nothing but it eased my mind so much #anyway… i won’t die but if it’s been like a week since i posted this and nothing more i love yall ppl on my phone #my post #i won’t die though. i’ll prob come back here in like 3 hours #okay turning off phone now

[sentient-stove]

"Oh my god he’s dead- we killed a vigilante, OHMYGODOHMYGOD—" A hysterical voice screeched out, decidedly feminine and loud enough that the comn line picked it up.

"He broke in here for no reason first! We have probable cause as to why you brained him with our wok!" The second interjected, calmer than the first, but there was still a line of tension, like they were uncertain about what they were saying.

"Oh my god, oh god we’re literally so dead Batman’s literally going to murder me and you and us and—"

"We're already mostly dead, he can't kill us. Although I thought he had a no killing rule anyways, so maybe we’re safe? Ancients, that is a lot of blood. You think we should call an ambulance?" Static filtered through the comn line before stabilizing again and wow. The residents of the apartment were really just having a full conversation over an unconscious Nightwing- in earshot of a microphone recording every word- like this was a normal occurrence. Maybe it was a normal Friday night for them, Barbara couldn't exactly judge.

"I'm not calling an ambulance, they might arrest him. Hell, they're probably gonna arrest us! Danny, we're fucking unresgistered metas in Gotham, I’m a clone—"

"—Not metas and I won’t let anyone arrest you—"

"—It's the same thing to the government at the end of the day. You're right though. I think I hit him too hard, we're going to lose the deposit with the amount of blood getting everywhere. Head wounds bleed a lot right? Maybe he's not dead."

"He's not dead, we'd know if he was."

"Oh. Right. Man. That is a lot of blood, our IKEA rug is ruined. I liked that rug, you think we could ask him to buy a new one when he wakes up or is he on the normal vigilante salary of nothing?"

“Mhm. I'll go get the med kit, you handcuff him to the table so he doesn't jump us when he wakes up. Keep the mask on- I don’t want to piss off whatever buddies he’s got listening in.”

#fanfic #wip hell #danny fenton #danny phantom #dani phantom #nightwing #barbara gordon #dpxdc #dc x dp #dc comics

[milo-is-rambling]

Had a nightmare last night that many different large scary animals were trying to break into the house I lived in in New Hampshire and I kept running around and locking doors and screaming and crying and begging for my family to help me and they were just sitting and laughing or sleeping or living their lives and I was watching huge black bears pound on glass sliding doors and fog them up with their breath as they drool over the idea of demolishing my family and there were like big mountain lions finding small holes to crawl through trying to get in and I’m sobbing and bleeding and kicking them and trying to get my family to do something and they don’t even notice and act like I’m crazy

#hahahaha that’s totally unrelated to me having a panic attack and calling out of work only for my mother to tell me that she’s disappointed #in me and I should’ve just sucked it up and gone to work #my life is honestly me vs my mental health vs my mother #like if she could just. no. I’m the one with the problem. I stopped taking my meds. that’s on me. she shouldn’t get mad at me for the way I #deal with my own brain especially cause the first half of June went so well for me. but whatever. she’s allowed to be upset when her child #isn’t taking care of themselves. that’s fair. however. FUCK OFFFFFFFFFF #I DONT WANT NIGHTMARES WHERE IM DYING AND THEN I WAKE UP AND STILL FEEL LIKE IM ABOUT TO DIE #LIKE GIRL BE THE LITTLEST BIT SUPPORTIVE OF ME INSTEAD OF SAYING YOURE MAD AT ME BC I HAD A PANIC ATTACK SO BAD I COULDNT HANDLE A FIVE HOUR #SHIFT AT WORK LIKE JUST TELL ME IVE COME SO FAR FROM WHERE I WAS LAST YEAR (bad panic attacks every day) AND THAT I JUST NEED TO BREATHE AND #ILL GET THROUGH IT AND ITLL BE OKAY AND YOU CAN GO TO WORK AND EXPLAIN NEXT SHIFT AND APOLOGIZE AND ITLL BE FINE #INSTEAD OF SAYING TO YOUR KID ‘are you TRYING to get fired so you don’t have to go to work anymore?’ WHILE IM SOBBING WITH MY HEAD IN A #TRASHCAN DRY HEAVING LIKE YEAH MOM THATS JUST WHAT I WANT TO HEAR YOU THINK IM NOT FREAKING OUT ENOUGH ON MY OWN WHAT DO YOU THINK SENT ME #INTO THIS PANIC ATTACK LIKE SHUT THE FUCK UP #sorry. having a moment. #I just keep getting really vivid flashbacks to my dream and it’s like I was trying to protect my dad bc in my dream he was still alive and #then I woke up and felt so powerless to everything and remembered my mom still being mad at me which I’m sure is going to continue and I’ll #be guilt tripped for the rest of the weekend at least #and she’s going to be on my ass about going back to therapy when therapy has nothing to do with this #rage rage rage rage fear fear fear fear fear that’s all I seem to know anymore

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part one.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 505,281 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername a smiley lando is the best lando in my books! to celebrate the end of the 2023 season, here's a handful of my favourite photos from throughout the year!

view all 3,171 comments

mclaren What a happy lad! We can't wait to see that smile again in 2024 😁🧡

↳ yourusername you and me both! 🤝🧡

user she's got the dream job omg

↳ user IKR??? imagine just getting to follow lando around and take pictures of him all day, i'd be dead within the first hour

↳ user he'd smile at me and i'd be asking “what are we” on god 😩😩😩

↳ user is that literally all she does??? she just follows him around and takes pictures??

↳ user there’s probably a technical term for what her position is and i just don’t know it, but bc there’s so much going on around the track at any given moment, sometimes the press and other media workers are focused on something or someone else, so she’s hired on by mclaren to specifically focus on mclaren to make sure that there is content for mclaren or mclaren sponsors to use. she’s not just lando’s photographer, she also takes photos of oscar, the pit teams, and the other staff that work in the garage, but she was hired on when lando started so her portfolio is pretty full of him. hope this helps!

user didn't know i could need so much orange in my life but here we are

user LANDO NORRIS SUPREMACY

oscarpiastri i see who the favourite is 🫤

↳ yourusername you literally SAW me picking photos for your post too

↳ oscarpiastri yeah but you posted his first 🫤

user guys this is the face of the 2024 wdc winner take it in now

user i could write a 50 page thesis on the importance of these photos and what they mean to me and how the serotonin they make me release could replace my depression meds

user lad’s like a mini danny ric with how smiley he is

landonorris best photog right here folks

↳ yourusername you're only saying that bc i always get your good side

↳ landonorris i'll have you know that all sides are my good sides 🤨

↳ yourusername whatev helps you sleep at night luv 😊

In 2019, when you took on the job of being McLaren’s lead photographer, you hadn’t expected it would garner you the amount of attention it has, or that it would slingshot your career to levels of success you never could have anticipated, or that you would get a best friend out of it.

When you first met him back in those early days, you’d thought Lando Norris was an arrogant, pretentious, self-righteous prick who thought he was hot shit because he was a Formula One driver. However, he’d quickly proven you wrong when he’d admitted to you that a lot of the confidence was an act━ carefully constructed to hide his insecurities about his performance both on and off the track.

“I mean, we’re drivers, yeah?” He’d said. “But we’re also actors. We’ve got these personas that we have to uphold even out here on the paddock, and I’m always worried I’m not playing the part well enough.”

It hadn’t made a lot of sense to you then, you thought he was pulling off the persona of Total Douche remarkably well, but in Shanghai, things changed.

After the Chinese Grand Prix, things were dour. Lando had DNFed━ the first in his Formula One career━ which contrasted greatly with his previous accomplishment of P6 in Bahrain. Carlos Sainz hadn’t been doing very well, either, and it didn’t paint a very pretty picture for McLaren so early in the season. You’d thought he’d throw a hissy fit, tear Daniil Kvyat apart for his role in the crash, or at the very least throw some shade his way, but he hadn’t done any of that. He’d accepted his fate with grace, joked to the media about how boring the race had been because of what had happened, and then gone on to congratulate Carlos for at least finishing.

What was even more shocking, was that despite his disappointment and the frustration he must’ve been feeling, instead of going back to sulk in his lonesomeness or drown out his feelings with booze and loud music at some club, he’d comforted you later that evening.

The morning of the race, as you’d been getting ready in your hotel room, you’d gotten a text from an unsaved number admitting to you that they’d been taking part in a months-long affair with your boyfriend but had been previously unaware that he was already taken and therefore wanted to let you know to clear their conscience. You’d managed to hold yourself together then━ mostly because you’d already done your makeup and, quite frankly, didn’t have the time to sob it all off and then attempt to salvage it━ but as the day drew to a close and the adrenaline of the race and its excitement wore off, and with nothing else to keep you distracted, you were struggling to keep yourself composed.

Lando had somehow noticed in that weirdly perceptive way of his that something was off, and he’d sat with you, asked what was wrong, and listened when you━ through tears━ explained the situation to him.

“He sounds like a total fucking muppet,” he’d commented after you’d said your piece, and he’d done it with such a deadpanned expression that it had startled a genuine laugh out of you. Because yeah, you’re (now ex) boyfriend had been a muppet.

After that━ and after all the rom-com and ice cream binging you’d both done in his hotel room afterward much to the chagrin of Lando’s nutritionist and the displeasure of his PR officer━ you’d rescinded your initial judgment of him. He was significantly less dickish than you’d originally thought, and it let you finally understand what he’d meant when he’d talked about putting on a persona.

The cocky, know-it-all prick that Lando pretended to be half the time was all just an act to hide his overly self-critical nature fueled by his insecurities.

By the end of the season, he’d gained a little confidence of his own and had subsequently toned down the assholery when he no longer needed to “fake it til he makes it,” and you were calling him your friend.

It’s 2023 now, and he’s since been upgraded to best friend status━ a role he takes very seriously, and constantly reminds you of.

“I’m your best friend━” case and point, “━you have to come to Bali with me. Literally, like, what am I gonna do without you there? Do you expect me to just go by myself? What if I get lost? Or what if somehow the mafia, who have unknowingly had a hit out on me for years, track me down there and I’m kidnapped and ransomed off for billions of dollars? What will you do then?”

“You just want me to take pictures of you,” you answer, rolling your eyes only because you know he can’t see you through the phone.

He gasps in mock offense. “I cannot believe you think I value you so little! I want you to take pictures of me and be here to help me make fun of awkward tourist spray tans so I don’t feel like a total asshole for being the only one who laughs.”

You laugh at that. “Well, unfortunately laughing at bad fake tans doesn’t pay the bills.”

“But taking pictures of me does.”

“Yeah, when McLaren is paying.” You turn back to your laptop, a photo put on pause mid-edit splayed across the screen. It’s of Lando, as most of your photos tend to be despite your attempts at keeping things even between the McLaren boys. It’s the last of the images you need to send over for their 2023 sendoff, and when it’s finished you’ll officially be without work for a painstaking two months. “I’m on break too, technically, until they need promotional shit for the new season.”

He huffs, and you can almost imagine the childish pout on his face. “What are you even doing, then?”

You hesitate, not because you don’t want Lando to know about your winter plans, but because you don’t really know how he’ll react, which means it could be anything between genuine happiness for you and congratulations, or abject horror and feigned screams of anguish. He’s always been dramatic like that, but even more so now that he’s comfortable enough with you and himself to have crawled a decent way out of his shell.

Even still, he’s your best friend and it would make you a pretty shitty person if you didn’t tell him.

“Believe it or not,” you start, wringing your hands together, “but Manchester City actually hit me up with an inquiry. Asked if I’d be interested in working with them on a project documenting their training throughout the winter months. I said I would love to.”

He pauses for a good long moment, and you prepare for the screaming, but all he says is━ “Man City? You traitor. I thought Man United was our forever!”

“Be so fucking real right now, Lando Norris,” you answer, laughing as you do so. You’re relieved, at least he hasn’t gone the feigned anguish route, but you also can’t tell if he’s happy for you or hiding his true feelings behind humor like he’s prone to doing. “You know damn well you only watched them for Christiano Ronaldo and he hasn’t played with United since 2009.”

“Technically he played for them in the 2021-2022 season,” he grumbles.

“Yeah,” you deadpan, “and he was dogshit. We both agreed to pretend it never happened.”

He groans, “I can’t believe this. My day is ruined and my disappointment is immeasurable.”

“Oh, get over yourself. It’s only for the winter. I’ll be back in McLaren Papaya by February when they need me snapping shots of you and Oscar next to the new livery,” you promise.

The reality is that it’ll probably be sooner. McLaren has always been good about getting you back at HQ pretty quickly, either to get some snapshots of the beginning of Lando and Oscar’s pre-season return or to just capture some material of the engineers at work to promote their readiness. You understand why they can’t keep you around all year━ no Lando and no Oscar means no you━ and with the sheer amount of content you capture and edit for them throughout the season, they’ve got enough to last them the handful of weeks you aren’t working.

Unfortunately, you aren’t working with a driver’s salary to keep you sustained over the break and rent certainly hasn’t been getting cheaper. In past years, your bank account has been chirping with crickets when you’ve returned to work after the winter, and that was before your landlord had decided to make your life a living hell.

You have an important job, but it’s by far the most important, and sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Working in sports media taught you that early on.

“Who knows?” Lando’s voice snaps you back. “Maybe Jack Grealish with his perfect hair and perfect calves will steal you away and you’ll be in sky blue forevermore.”

You laugh, “Jack Grealish is a happily taken man, and although he does have perfect hair and perfect calves, I’m more of a Haaland girl anyway.”

He guffaws. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re so far gone that you already have a preferred player. Jack Grealish is England’s poster boy! Everyone loves him whether they like City or not!” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Christ, I can already feel you slipping through my fingers. I give it a week over there at Etihad before you call me up telling me I can find a new best friend because you’ve replaced me with Phil Foden and Julian Alvarez.”

“For someone who supposedly hates Manchester City, you’re certainly well-versed in their roster.”

“Well duh, I need to know my competition,” he says, like it’s obvious.

“Ah, yes,” you snark back sarcastically. “Because you, a Formula One driver, have to be worried about the football players of Manchester City.”

“Apparently I do if you’re calling yourself a Haaland girl now!”

You burst into cackles and he’s following shortly after with chuckles of his own that eventually peter out into a comfortable silence. You are really going to miss him for the few months you aren’t working with him.

The Formula One schedule is so jam-packed across the season that it typically means you’re getting to see him every day for an hour or two at least, if not for the entirety of the time he’s at the track. You follow him and Oscar to their sponsor obligations, their interviews, and everything in between. It’s honestly rare if you’re not getting a moment to goof off and dick around with one another━ and it’s even rarer for you to not actually see one another face to face in passing at the very least.

The off-season is your least favorite time of the year for this very reason, and though it makes you feel a bit full of yourself to think so, you imagine Lando doesn’t enjoy this time of year much either for the same reason.

“I promise I won’t replace you with any of the City boys,” you say after the silence has stretched on a moment longer.

He huffs again, but you can envision the smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose even if you do, I’ll just show up to a match and steal you away again.”

“As if. Have you seen Grealish’s calves?”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by user, user, and 517,472 others

footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward caught with mysterious woman revealed to be well-known Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The two were seen sharing a romantic evening on Friday, the 5th of January, ringing in a passionate start to 2024. Garrett Ward has been with Manchester City since 2021 but was out on loan to a lesser-known Championship League team until 2023. He has just recently begun to play for his team again, but an injury early into the season has seen him benched for a majority of his time back. Y/N L/N is a photographer for Formula One racing team McLaren and has been working with them since 2019. Recently, she has been working with Manchester City to help promote a new docuseries following the men’s team’s winter training. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

view all 12,971 comments

user OMG GARRETT WARD??? NOTORIOUS BACHELOR GARRETT WARD???

user who is she? like genuinely how is she relevant 🤔

↳ user no literally cuz like who even gives two shits about formula 1?

user girl works in f1 why can’t she stay there

↳ user i’m sure there are plenty of drivers who’d smash her idk why she needs to try and get footballers too like bffr ���😒😒

user aint no way this bitch is kissing my man rn

user literally what does he even see in her??? she’s not even cute AND she’s wearing man united colors 💀💀

user Y/N L/N??? I THOUGHT SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS???

↳ user LITERALLY ME TOO?? like she posts him all the time on insta so i just kinda thought they were an item or smth?? trouble in paradise maybe

user she’s fucking ugly wtf

user i wish these footballers who get with regular women would realize there are so many better girls out there that would ACTUALLY treat them well and would support them in their careers. like i bet this girl doesn’t even know anything about football. she works in f1 and that’s where she should stay bc nobody cares about that shit round here. she probably doesn’t even know the first thing about how football works, but i bet she’ll be at matches pretending like she knows what’s happening. garrett ward is gonna flush his career down the troilet for this chick bc she’s gonna convince him his busy schedule ain’t worth it and then city will be down a great forward for good, and it’ll all be her fault

user i mean she’s kinda pretty tbf

↳ user stfu she really isn’t

↳ user she gen looks like any random bitch off the street

user these comments are not it…. 😬

↳ user maybe you f1 fans just don’t know how to handle constructive criticism

↳ user is the constructive criticism in the room with us rn?? cuz all i’m seeing is bullying and hatred directed towards an innocent woman who’s only “crime” was going on a date

user ok so she can take photos?? 🙄🙄 maybe she should get a real job

↳ user she’s probably only with him so she can mooch off of him like a fucking gold digger

user AINT NO WAYYYYYY

user it’ll last a month max 😌 i’m calling it

user ayo lando come get your girl

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette

━━ a/n: here we have it! took me a bit longer than the start of american smile did, but lando's story is officially here! (and it's a whopping 2.9k words to start us off). first and foremost, before we get started, garrett ward is 100% an oc and obviously does not play for manchester city, and this is bc i would feel absolutely horrible portraying a real person in the way that garrett will be later on. gather from that what you will haha! regardless, i hope you enjoy this first part and stick around for the rest!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

[whimsyprinx]

use to have a shitty coworker named megan and everytime I’d complain about her is get sent this

#whimsy whispers #okay so like I’m lactose intolerant and everyone at my workplace was aware and like so I’d still get coffee and milkshakes I’d just take #meds or pray and megan found out despite being new cause another coworker was like ‘crystalline aren’t you lactose intolerant lol’ and for #some reason megan got so mad y’all she was like so on my case about buying a milkshake like kept saying shit like ‘whatever it’s your body #do what you want’ but wouldn’t drop the subject she kept grilling me on why I’m getting a milkshake if I’m lactose intolerant like Megan #I don’t even care as much as you do chill out #when megan walked away my coworker looked at me and was like ‘I think megan wants your milkshake tbh’ which was so funny to me and became #something we joked about a lot #but like she was unnecessarily weird about it like my coworkers would often ban me from getting dairy if they knew I didn’t have meds which #like yeah if we’re doing a group order fine but like megan was so mad at me #like girl we are literally ordering lunch and blowing up balloons for whatever holiday it currently was why are you so aggravated at me????? #she was a mess for so many reasons

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

The shittiest part about being me is that the only thing I can ever be diagnosed with is an autoimmune disease that affects 200k people and most of them are middle aged women. And trust me, it’s not from a lack of trying.

#I have brought it up. so many times #the fatigue. the centralized pain. the sensory hallucinations or whatever idk what they are anymore #but every test I’m just. not enough of any of those #it doesn’t hurt often or severe enough #I’m never exhausted enough #they’re figments of my hyperactive imagination #or they just. don’t know #they do everything and it’s inconclusive #but I’m not okay! #I’m not fucking okay! #okay people don’t have severe memory issues #okay people don’t randomly realize that their hand feels like it’s on fire #okay people can stand around for more than 15 minutes #but I. I don’t know what’s wrong #and I’ve spent so much of my life telling myself that I HAD to be okay bc of that #but I’m not #im. im tired. of saying I am #of talking about it and being ignored #or put aside #or given a comment about how much it costs for me to take so many meds and go to so many doctors #it’s. im done. at least for tonight #im done.

[florence-end]

Worst kept secret

Azriel x fem!reader

Warnings: Az is a lil high on pain meds. Sickeningly sweet fluff.

Summary: Your mate gets hurt on a mission and the healers give him something for the pain. Combined with the concussion, he starts acting a bit strangely when you walk in.

“Cassian, if you don’t fly faster, I will find Bryaxis myself and let him move into your bedroom. MOVE!” you screeched in the warlord’s ear as he swooped up to the House of Wind at full speed.

“Will you relax? Rhys said he’s going to be completely fine in a couple of days and Madja has already finished seeing to him. Az has come home in way worse states before,” Cassian huffed as he dropped down to land on the balcony outside the dining room.

Logically, you knew he was right but that didn’t stop you from breaking into a run the second your feet touched the floor. Hurtling through the house, you made it to your mate’s old bedroom in seconds and barely stopped yourself before you crashed headfirst into your high lord as he slipped through the bedroom door to greet you.

“Is he okay? Is he awake? Is Madja still here? Does he have a concussion? Did you find the people who ambushed him?” You rattled off your list of burning questions, and caught amusement flashing in Rhysand’s eyes as he quirked up an eyebrow.

“Hm let me see… yes, yes, no, yes and yes. In that order,” he chuckled before resting a hand on your shoulder as Cassian finally caught up to you. “He’s going to be absolutely fine, dear sister. Madja thinks he was only unconscious for a matter of minutes and his concussion will be gone by tomorrow. She’s given him a tonic to help with the pain so he’s a little woozy but he’ll be very pleased to see you as he always is.”

“I tried to tell you,” Cassian muttered but you had already opened the bedroom door and slipped into the room.

Azriel was sitting up in the centre of the large bed, pillows arrange comfortably behind his back and blankets draped up to his chest. His wings were spread out either side of him, far more relaxed than he would usually allow while awake. His shadows pooled across the pillows, barely moving as though they too had been medicated.

He looked up as you entered the room and you gave him a big smile as you approached. Az, however, didn’t smile back and the three of you watched as his mouth fell slack and his eyes widened.

“Honey, are you okay? Are you in pain? We can get Madja to come straight back,” you fretted, your hands fluttering over him helplessly as he just watched you. You settled on holding his hand, and that seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

“No no no I’m fine, sorry. Um hi,” he stuttered, in a very un-Azriel way.

“You sure Az? You weren’t that pale when I left,” Rhys commented.

The two Illyrians made eye contact and you saw Rhys’ eyes unfocus the way they always did when he was having a conversation in someone’s mind. First, he looked concerned, then confused, then a delighted and amused grin spread across his face.

“You should tell her, Az,” he declared out loud.

“Tell me what?” You asked, glancing back and forth between your mate’s face, flush with embarrassment, and the high lord’s smirk. You could tell he was speaking to Cassian mind-to-mind now.

“Tell me what??” You asked again, getting frustrated at whatever secret the brothers were keeping from you.

“Um, I don’t know if you can feel it. You probably can’t which is absolutely fine and I don’t expect anything from you but I just have to tell you so that you know…” Azriel was… rambling? The male who preferred to say as few words as possible, even around his family most of the time, had turned into a complete chatterbox due to whatever pain relieving tonic he’d been given.

“Azriel, sweetheart, just tell me,” you encouraged, frowning in concern.

“When you walked in just now, I felt the mating bond snap. You’re my mate,” Azriel whispered, looking down at his hands where they rested on the blankets.

Well now you were very confused. You and Azriel had accepted the mating bond years ago. You lived together in your own townhouse in Velaris; you had a garden, and a mug collection, and matching his-and-hers aprons in the kitchen. You vacationed in Adriata together last month. Had he forgotten all of that?

It’s only temporary, the memories are all there and will probably come flooding back when you tell him.

Rhys spoke his reassurance into your mind and you realised all three of them were waiting for your response.

“Honey I know we’re mates. We had our ceremony by the lake up near the cabin, don’t you remember? Cassian cried like a baby the whole day,” you reminded him.

“Hey, you don’t need to give him all the details!” Cassian objected but he was quickly shushed by Rhys.

Azriel’s face lit up as he mulled over your words. “We did? Was it beautiful? You deserve a beautiful mating ceremony,” he asked earnestly.

“So beautiful, you and your brothers and Lucien spent hours setting everything up perfectly outside, and Elain covered the whole place with the loveliest flowers, and Nesta, Feyre and Mor found everyone the perfect outfits. Amren even let me wear her favourite diamond earrings. It was the perfect day,” you promised, resting your hand on his cheek.

“That sounds nice. Do we live together?” He asked, looking hopeful. You brushed his hair off his forehead and sat down on the bed beside him. His shadows flowed around to accommodate your movements.

“Yes we do. You bought us a townhouse down in the city, right near the Rainbow,” you smiled at the memory of him handing you the key for the first time.

“And I take care of you? And keep you safe? You’re not scared of my hands or my shadows?” He wondered. Your face hurt from smiling so much as he aired his concerns. Tears welled in your eyes to see how much love he had for you, even when he couldn’t quite recall all your shared memories right now.

“Does she look like a lady that’s scared of you Az? You take great care of her, we’d have kicked your ass long ago if you didn’t. She takes care of you too. You’re sickeningly in love, I promise,” Cassian assures his brother. With that, the two uninjured Illyrians wave their goodbyes and go to leave, promising to check on him later.

Azriel looks up at you happily once you’re alone, grasping the hand that still rests on the side of his face. He pulls you to lie against him and tucks a wing around you so you can’t get up.

“You ready to get some sleep, handsome?” You murmur as you wrap your arm across his waist and press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Will you be here when I wake up? Will I remember everything?” He asks, squeezing you impossibly closer to him as if you might disappear.

“I promise,” you whisper back, and begin to hum a soft melody to lull him to sleep.

Was this cheesy? Yes. Did I write this for my own selfish reasons? Also yes. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar

[fairyhaos]

❖ take care of me anyway // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: office worker!jeonghan not rlly relevant to the plot tho, sick fic, fluff, established relationship

warnings: brief fever-induced hallucinations ig?? but theyre rlly cute, pet names, reader has a cold

notes: im sick. like, 'i have a cold' sick. and i also have another sick fic planned so uhh yeah im a little Unwell in the head too

There are ten minutes left of Jeonghan’s lunch break when you finally call him.

“Hello, my darling,” he says, his tone both parts dry and amused. “How are you?”

“Sick,” you reply, and even just that word sounds horribly bunged up. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You called in sick for me.”

Jeonghan just hums, smiling a little as he adjusts the phone against his ear, walking down the street back to his company building. “Maybe I did.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and he can almost hear you pouting on the other end of the line. There’s a rustling sound as you adjust yourself in bed, and he sighs.

“How sick are you?”

“Very,” you say, miserably, and then give a series of harsh, wet coughs that has him wincing. “Very sick. I only just woke up, but my head is just…” You don’t finish your sentence. Just make a very pained sound like a wounded puppy.

Jeonghan chuckles. “Gee, I wonder how you managed to get so sick. It’s not like walking home in the pouring rain without a coat makes you ill, isn’t it?”

You whine at that, upset. “Han, I told you, I was gonna call you but my phone was dead. I had no choice! Wanted to get home fast to see you,” you add in a mumble, sounding dejected.

He smiles at that. “It wasn’t like I was going anywhere, though,” he points out. “I was all comfortably squished on the couch. I wasn’t gonna disappear any time soon. You could’ve taken your time. Waited for the rain to pass.”

“Yeah, but still,” you huff petulantly, then sniff. “Can you make soup when you get back home?” you ask after a beat, and sniffle again. “And also buy some tissues? And meds? And give me cuddles?”

Jeonghan chuckles at how pitiful you sound, resisting the urge to coo. “No.”

“What?” You’re whining again, and you sound all bunged up but Jeonghan just smiles, amused. “But your darling Y/N is currently suffering the worst cold in the entire world.”

“But alas, I think my darling Y/N is the sole person to blame for this cold,” Jeonghan says, lips twitching upwards. “Don't you think so?”

“Come take care of me anyway.”

“No.”

You make a noise of discontent, sheets rustling as you shift around in bed again. “Hmph. Worst boyfriend ever. I’m breaking up with you.”

That makes him laugh, the stunned sound being pulled out of him by your deadpan tone, and he grins to himself out on the street, rounding the corner until his company building is in sight. “Whatever you say,” he singsongs. “I’ll see later, okay?”

“Whatever. Bye.” A pause. “Have a nice day.”

Jeonghan smiles as you hang up, looking fondly down at your contact name. He’s standing in front of the company entrance, now, and he has three minutes of his break left. Just enough time to get into the elevator and up to his office.

He pockets his phone, turns on his heel and traipses off to find the nearest pharmacy.

───────────── 🧂

You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep the entire day, constantly stuck in that drowsy, so-sick-that-nothing-feels-real state, and you’ve hallucinated Jeonghan coming home a total of thirteen times in the past five hours.

At least, you think it’s been five hours.

Maybe it’s been less than that.

Whatever. Time is weird.

The point is, your mind is all fuzzy and everything feels like it’s floating, so when someone who looks an awful lot like Jeonghan comes into the room, you just groan. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 has come to pay you a visit, it seems, so you just frown and give him the response that you’ve given all his other clones.

“Go away. Stop trying to sell me fish.”

Hallucination Jeonghan #14 makes a confused noise at that, walking closer to your bed, leaning over to adjust your pillows and pull you up into a more upright position.

“I don’t want your fish,” you say, just in case he didn’t hear you the first time. “Stop it.”

That makes the hallucination chuckle, and his hand comes up to your forehead. 

Cold. Huh. None of the other hallucinations touched you before.

His hand drops from your forehead, swiping at the soft skin under your eyes gently, and his fingers are blessedly cool against your skin. You hadn’t realised how much you were burning up before.

“You’re really, really sick,” Hallucination Jeonghan #14 murmurs, and he sounds so concerned, before pulling out a bottle of water from one of the plastic bags he’s holding. Woah, you hadn’t even realised he was holding them. “Here, darling. Drink.”

You obediently take a sip once he uncaps the lid for you, before making small noises of distress when some of it spills down your shirt. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 (wow was it a mouthful to say, even in your head) just hushes you gently, dabbing at it with tissues that he’d procured from the plastic bags. 

“It’s okay,” he says softly, and his hands take yours, clasping them around the bottle. Once you’re holding it, he gets up, and for a horrible moment, you think this hallucination is going to leave again. You kind of like this one.

“Where’re you going?” you ask, but it comes out as more of a slur of vowels. You’re not sure he understood a word.

 “Drink up,” is all he says. He fishes out a packet of pills from the bag (it’s like a magic bag, you think blearily. It seems to have everything inside it). “Have these as well, okay? I’ll go make that soup you wanted.”

You nod, blinking. Dutifully, you sip the water that the hallucination has left you, because really this was one of the most gentle, doting, Jeonghan-like Hallucination Jeonghan and it kind of feels like he really does have your best interests at heart. 

Unlike the other Hallucination Jeonghans, who just wanted to sell you fish. This one really seemed to care about your well-being. 

You blink again, slowly. 

Oh. 

By the time Jeonghan comes back with a gently steaming bowl of chicken soup on a tray with a mug of tea, you're more lucid than before, pouting at him as he comes closer, having remembered his last words before you’d hung up the phone.

“You said you weren’t going to take care of me.”

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, setting the tray on the bedside table, before sitting down on the edge of your bed, wordlessly picking up the bowl and spoonfeeding you some soup. You open your mouth easily, and he hums in approval with a smile.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my darling be sick all alone, hm?” he says. “I can’t do that. Especially if you’re also seeing hallucinations of me who are trying to sell you fish.”

He continues feeding you soup in tiny sips, and the entire situation feels weirdly vulnerable, with you propped up on pillows and Jeonghan making small noises of approval every time you successfully swallow a spoonful. Like you’re a little baby bird, or something.

But he smiles so lovingly at you the entire time, so it’s kind of hard to feel too embarrassed.

“Well done,” Jeonghan murmurs, once you’ve finished half of the bowl. Your boyfriend is affectionate, almost overbearingly so at times, always poking you in the side or pinching your cheeks or tweaking your nose, but the softness with which he treats you right now is a whole other level of affection entirely.

Jeonghan cares deeply for you. You know that. You’ve never doubted how much he loves you, and he never gives you reason to doubt it. But still, when he smooths down your hair and strokes the back of your hand and gazes at you so gently, it makes you realise yet again that oh God, he loves you.

“We’re going to get you to finish the rest of the soup in a minute,” he says, reaching down towards the plastic bag at his feet, “but first. I wanted you to have this.”

Out of the bag, he pulls out…

A fluffy bunny plushie.

You blink, tilting your head, sniffing in confusion and also to try and unblock your bunged up nose. “What?”

“Say hi to Jjongie,” Jeonghan says. “He came up to me when I was buying your soup, and I couldn’t not bring him home.” The bunny’s pink ears flop adorably into its eyes as he holds out the soft toy to you. It even has a cream coloured ribbon around its neck. “He’s gonna keep you company whenever I can’t be here for you.”

“Oh,” you say softly, taking Jjongie from him with a smile. You rub your thumb over the soft fur of the bunny’s cheek. “He’s adorable.”

Jeonghan beams, proud. “Of course he is. He’s a me-substitute.”

You look up at him, smiling. “Han, I—” You can’t finish your sentence, too choked up. Literally. You suddenly start coughing, hand coming up to cover your mouth, and Jeonghan rushes forward with the mug of tea and an opened box of tissues that he suddenly procured out of nowhere.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to cry over it,” he says teasingly as you glare at him, eyes tearing up from how hard you’re coughing. You accept the tissues and, when he pushes the tea insistently in you direction, you take the mug too.

“Yeah, yeah.” You blow your nose with one hand and then drink the tea, noting with a smile the subtle notes of honey in it. “Thank you,” you add, softly, looking down at Jjongie in your lap. Jeonghan really has gone out of his way for you.

Jeonghan just shakes his head, picking up the soup bowl again. “Thank me once you get better,” he says. “You can take care of me after. I’ll probably be catching your illness from looking after you.”

You grin, blowing your nose again, and even you can’t miss the way that Jeonghan watches you, eyes devastatingly fond.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna look after me anyways, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan grins, unashamedly bright. He taps the spoon against your lips, smiling wider when you sip the soup, the mug of tea in your hands, Jjongie the bunny in your lap. 

“Duh. I love you too much not to.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

#fairyhaos.works #k-labels #svt #seventeen #jeonghan #seventeen fic #jeonghan fic #svt fic #svt jeonghan #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x you #seventeen x you #jeonghan x y/n #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen yoon jeonghan #svt yoon jeonghan #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #seventeen imagines #jeonghan au #svt au #seventeen fanfic

[hellishjoel]

delicate - chapter one: someone new

3.4k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

summary: Sarah decides it’s time for her dad to start dating again. Joel isn’t sure he needs to, but decides if it’s for Sarah, he’s willing to give it a go. After a few failed attempts, he finally stumbles across someone new. 

A/N: This is the first chapter of a new fic co-written with @thetriumphantpanda - we’re both so excited for you all to finally read what we’ve been working on. You’ll be able to find the masterlist on both of our Tumblrs, and we’ll be taking turns in posting chapters, so if you want to keep up to date with posting, please make sure you’re following us both! 

warnings: Joel being terrible at dating apps, mentions of being a single parent, flirting, rom-com vibes, allusions to more mature themes but nothing explicit as of now, foul language, mentions of food & alcohol, Sarah & Tommy being menaces. 

“Dad, have you thought about settling down soon?”

Joel had nearly just sat down at the dining table, a warm bowl of chili stinging his hands as he set down a glass of water with a quiet huff. 

“Am settled down.” He grumbled, diving straight into the warm bowl with ferocity. 

Sarah sighed quietly and circled her fingertip over the rim of her water glass. 

“I mean,” she tries again, “settled down with someone.”

Sarah knows this is a weird topic to bring up over dinner. She can see it in the way her father stops chewing on his food, his water glass halfway to his lips now frozen midair.

Since she was a small girl, her father’s world revolved around her. She put the sun in the sky and the smiles on his face. He put her through years of soccer practice and clarinet lessons, drove her across the state for tournaments, and made her favorite dinner when it was her birthday. She was his little girl. 

Sarah knew she had a very loving father, always lucky in that regard, but that love felt a little lost when she started attending university. All she could think about was leaving her dad in an empty house with no one to cook for, no one to bug about cleaning their room. He didn’t have anyone besides Uncle Tommy. And Sarah was sure that was the last person he wanted to spend his free time with.  

Fresh from graduating with a bachelor’s degree in biology from Texas State University, Sarah opted to live at home for a year in the hopes of saving up money for med school. And perhaps she could complete the side quest of finding a potential date for her dad. 

Joel clears his throat and wipes his hand on a paper towel, smearing it a reddish-orange from the chili.

“Don’t need anyone else when I’ve got you, peanut.” He gave a lopsided smile and continued eating. 

Why would she ask something like that? Why was she thinking about finding someone for him? 

Joel thought of himself as an independent man. Never went looking for love, going on about his business, so why start now? 

Sarah looked unsure of what to say next, wanting to push the conversation and letting that uncertainty fill the air between them. 

Joel sighs, his spoon sputtering in the bowl and listening to it clang around the rim. 

“You don’t gotta worry about me, kid. I’m fine on my own.” He insisted, shrugging casually.

“Uncle Tommy and I were talking about you, more specifically about you dating-”

Joel buried his face in his hands, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh as he ran his hands down his face, calloused palms scraping against beard stubble. 

“Sarah, what did I tell you about talkin’ to Uncle Tommy? Take nothin’a substance from those conversations.” 

“Dad, please.” His little girl was frowning now, desperate puppy dog eyes searching his own. “How bad would it be if Uncle Tommy and I put you on a few dating apps, y’know? You could meet a nice woman, take her out for dinner, do whatever you want, but you can’t not try anymore.” 

Joel snuffed out a scoff, quickly dialing it down once he was receiving daggers. 

“Peanut, ya just… you get to a certain age where you give up on that type of stuff. Love n’all. M’an old dog, been outta the game for too long.” Joel returned to his dinner, thinking the conversation was done and over with. 

Sarah let out a heavy breath through her nostrils and crossed her arms. “Dad, we’re finding you someone,  or at least we’re going to try. You can’t just-just shrug off your feelings!” 

Sarah’s chair scraped backward, standing up suddenly and commandeering the room. 

“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. What happened with Mom was a long time ago. You can’t shut off trying to find love. I saw you go on two dates when I was growing up. Two! You can’t say you’ve tried, you can’t say you don’t want it, everyone wants to find their special someone. And you,” she said with wide, frantic eyes. “You are not done trying. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

Joel sat in silence as Sarah retrieved her bowl of chili and glass of water, fleeing up the stairs to her room. He sat back in his chair, shifting his jaw from side to side in thought. 

Guilt festered in his chest. Seeing Sarah so adamant about something like his love life was telling it was something she thought a fair amount about. She worried about his happiness, his life alone. 

Though he thought a life of solitude worked well for him, he couldn’t deny that small part of him that wished he had someone to share the little moments with. Sarah wouldn’t be living at home forever, and she would never be replaced in Joel’s heart, but maybe she was right that it was time for him to start trying again. 

“Okay, so I downloaded Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, eHarmony, and Farmer’s Only.” 

Sarah paraded around Joel’s smartphone, downloading different online dating apps left and right while he watched helplessly beside her on the couch. He could feel a headache spark in his temple already. 

“M’not a farmer.” 

Sarah simply shrugged and opened up the first app, Tinder. “True, but we’re trying to keep our options open.” 

Joel sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions, hearing the front door open without a knock. His brother, Tommy, paraded inside, a six-pack of beer in his hand and a jean jacket in the other. 

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Joel asked as he saddled his hands on his knees and pushed himself off the couch, eyes narrowed on his younger brother. 

“What? You think I would miss Sarah putting you up for auction?” 

“Hey,” Sarah said defensively, disliking that her Uncle Tommy was making fun of her genuine attempt to find Joel a woman. “Don’t make him feel bad. It took several hours of convincing just to get him to hand me his phone.” 

Tommy sneered and plopped down into Joel’s recliner, cracking open a beer despite it only being late afternoon. Hell, he might need one too. 

“Okay, Dad, focus. We need to fill out some of the Tinder prompts.” Sarah patted the section of the couch beside hers, Joel joining her after a few grumbles of resistance. 

“Prompts? What sorta prompts?” He asked, craning his neck to look at the phone screen she held up in her hands. 

“Prompts to get to know you better. You know, like, what are your likes and dislikes, what are you looking for in a relationship, where would you want to take someone for a first date,” Sarah continued the list until Tommy’s chuckle broke her concentration. 

“Ain’t Tinder for hookin’ up with chicks?” Tommy asked, making Joel’s head snap to Sarah. 

“Sarah, the hell are you doin’ to me?” 

“It’s not just for hookups, dad-”

“Yes, it is.” Tommy snicked, making Sarah glare at him. 

“C’mon, we’re trying everything to see what sticks.”

Joel felt rather hopeless about the whole ordeal. They added pictures, and Sarah crafted answers for his prompts. He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing with the whole left, right, swiping action. At one point, he expanded the age search by accident and didn’t realize it the next morning until he got a very forward message from a young woman. 

Hey, good looking ;) you look like a big man in more ways than one, if you catch what I mean… how about you come over to mine and show me a good time, I bet we can make it fit if we try hard enough. 

Joel storms into the kitchen, shoving his phone at Sarah’s face, “Take that damn app off,” He demands, “It ain’t for me.” 

“What did she say to you?” Sarah snorts, taking the phone from him, Joel watching as she holds her finger on the icon until it wobbles. 

“That ain’t for you to know,” Joel shakes his head, “Just delete the damn thing off my phone.” 

He watches as Sarah presses the cross in the corner of the icon, making a mental note of how he can delete the rest of them later when she’s not watching, she hands his phone back to him, taking a sip of orange juice, whilst he pockets the phone. 

Despite his first attempt at dating apps failing horribly, he was intrigued. A lot of the women out there were beautiful, some with children of their own from past relationships just like him. 

Joel was trying to watch the first Dallas Cowboys pre-season game with Sarah when his phone buzzed with a notification. It was just one of those that stated he had potential matches out there on Bumble. 

He chewed at the inside of his cheek, flicked his eyes up to the television screen, and clocked he wasn’t missing anything before he opened his phone. 

A few profiles later, he landed on a woman he found with a nice smile. He read through her profile, even letting out a quiet chuckle. 

Sarah’s eyebrows were drawn together with curiosity, watching her father smile goofily at his phone. 

“What’s goin’ on with you? You’re scaring me.” She teased as she pushed herself off the couch and leaned over his shoulder to see he was actually on one of the dating apps. A small sense of pride filled her. 

“I like ‘er. Got a nice smile, funny too.” Joel affirmed with a nod. He swiped like he was directed to, but then there was nothing. 

His face fell, smile and happiness swirling down the drain as he grew frustrated. 

“How the hell do I message ‘er?” He asked, neck craning as he held up his phone to Sarah, his silent way of asking for support. 

“You can’t message women first on Bumble. They have to like you back and message you first.” Sarah said with a shrug, snagging her dad’s beer from his hand and taking a quick swig. 

Joel was only scowling in disappointment and frustration. “Y’mean, I can’t even talk to ‘er? I can’t be a proper gentleman and make the first goddamn move?” 

He grunted in annoyance, swiped back his beer, and threw up the glass bottle to drain the last of its contents as he deleted the app. “Sick of these damn datin’ apps already. None of them are worth a damn.” 

Sarah sighed quietly and found her way back to the couch, nervousness settling inside of her. He wasn’t a very disagreeable person, in fact, her dad was neutral about a lot of things. What did he want to have for dinner tonight? Anything was fine. Which movie did he want to watch? He didn’t care, said she could pick. So why was he finding so many excuses with the apps? Not even the women, but the apps. 

Part of her thought about him trying to find a woman the old-school way, but he was maybe too out of the game to brush up a conversation with a random stranger. He might fail miserably, but maybe it would help with his confidence. He only had a few apps left, ticking off one by one. 

Joel stared at the ceiling, encapsulated by the slow-circling fan overhead. Darkness laid a dark veil over his bedroom, a sliver of moonlight being cast through the window. His head laid back into the pillows, jaw ticking from side to side as he lay wide awake. He lightly scratched his chest, feeling the dark hair that clustered at his sternum as his head rolled to the side and read the digital numbers on his clock. 

Another sigh left his parted lips. It was late, far too late for someone who worked the early mornings to be awake. At least tomorrow as Friday. 

His phone vibrated gently on his nightstand, a little chime he wasn’t accustomed to. He plucked his phone from the charger and squinted at its brightness, sitting up on his forearm to read the text. It was a message from a woman on Hinge. They had matched. 

Joel grunted and stared blankly at his lock screen until it went black with inactivity. No. Just go to sleep, Joel. Forget about it. He set his phone on the bed and laid on his side, digging his cheek into a pillow and forcing his eyes closed. Well, what was she doing awake at this hour? 

He opens his phone, clicking on the ‘H’ icon with its tiny red notification dot. He pays no mind to reading the message yet, instead clicking onto the mystery womans profile. The first picture is one of her wrapped up in a big coat, plaid scarf wrapped around her neck with a bobble hat and something warm clasped in her hands - it looks like she’s in a big city from what he can tell from the blurry background behind her, but he notices how happy she looks - big grin plastered on her face that reaches all the way to her eyes. 

Scrolling further down her profile, he finds the first prompt ‘Best Travel Story’ - her answer reading about a time she’d been hiking with her family. She likes the outdoors Joel thinks - something he and Sarah also enjoy, but he shakes his head before he thinks too much about a third person he can take hiking. There’s another photo then, clearly taken in the summer - she’s in a lovely dress, sitting at a table with a young boy on her lap, perhaps a nephew? He tries not to imagine that he’s stumbled across another single parent, what good luck that would be. 

Joel doesn’t make it much further down her profile - just to the section with all of her basic information. She’s around his age, shorter than him but not by much, she’s got a yes next to drinking, but a no to smoking and drugs, and she works in marketing. A steady job, he thinks. He’s praying, silently, that when he clicks back to her message, she’s sane. 

Good evening Joel! Sorry for such a late message, I’m a slight insomniac. I love your profile, you seem lovely! How are you doing this evening? (Or this morning depending on when you read this!) 

The corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile. A slight insomniac who thought he was quite lovely. Her words, not his. Maybe asking Sarah for help on his profile wasn’t such a bad idea. His fingers twitched above the keyboard, but he was unsure of what to say next. 

Joel sat up in bed, about to shove the covers off his lap and ask Sarah for help, when he took another look at his digital clock. It’s too late to wake her, he thinks. He’ll have to craft a response on his own. He dreads it, words never really being his strong suit. Would he look creepy if he replied this late back? 

Looks like we’re both slight insomniacs. Besides being unable to fall asleep, my evening was fine. How are you doing tonight, ma’am? 

Joel sighed and stared at his response, picking it apart and cursing under his breath. Now, he was wide awake. 

Ma’am? Way to make me feel 101… charming though, I like it ;) I’m doing okay, thank you. Just enjoying the only peace and quiet I get before I go to sleep. What’s keeping you up then, Joel? 

Joel’s face crumpled, pushing a hand through his hair after reading his response over and over again. He meant it in a gentlemanly way, not to make her feel old. He really screwed the pooch on that one. Nipping at his lower lip, he tried again. 

No offense intended ma’am, I’m just a Southern man is all.  Don’t mind about what’s keeping me up, I want to know about you. You don’t get much peace and quiet until midnight? How’s that?

None taken, just not used to someone being a gentleman on these things - normally at this point someone would be asking for a picture of my tits so you’re doing well so far. It’s usually my son that keeps me up, he’s been asleep a while but I only get so much time to clear up after him, so midnight is me time once that’s all done. You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s keeping you awake? 

Joel’s smile only grew larger as she responded, and rather quickly, too. He imagined they looked quite similar right now. Different towns, different houses, both curled up in bed and staring at their phones, waiting for the other to reply. He wondered if she was smiling like he was, trying to push away an undeniable flutter in his stomach. Making him feel like a damn teenager. 

His face softened at her response. My son, she said. That boy on her profile, with chubby cheeks and a toothy smile, a head full of hair, and glee all over his face, was her son. She was a mother, just like he was a father. He wondered if she saw the young woman in his pictures and knew that was his daughter, Sarah. How could he subtly drop the hint? 

Those aren’t gentlemen, just boys. Sorry to hear they were wasting your time. I understand your limited personal time. When my daughter Sarah was young, my alone time consisted of sitting in the truck during her soccer practices and after she went to bed. It’s not easy. What’s keeping me up is partially Sarah’s fault. She’s the one who urged me onto Hinge. I don’t really know what I’m doing, to be honest. Just know a pretty flower when I see one. 

Is Sarah the young girl on your profile? She’s beautiful if so, you must be so proud of how she’s grown up. Well Joel, you don’t seem clueless, you’re keeping my attention pretty well, especially calling me pretty, I might be blushing. What made her decide now was the time for you to start dating? 

He’d never admit it if anyone asked. But it looked like he still had that Southern charm, you never really grow out of it. He reached over and plucked the string to his lamp, sitting up against his bedframe and sipping on a glass of water as he read over her reply again and again. He had a fondness for the way she complimented his baby girl. She got extra points for that. 

Yep, that’s my Sarah. She’s going to med school next year, couldn’t be prouder. I suppose she graduated from college and thinks she knows everything now. Thinks I need a love life. I think she’s felt this way for a while, but she knows I’m stubborn. What’s your son’s name? Looks like a good kid. 

Smart and beautiful, you must have very good genes Joel. That’s incredible though, I can imagine how proud you are of her. Well, I for one am pleased she’s pushed you here, you seem a really nice guy Joel. My son is Noah, he’s seven so full of beans, I’ve never known anyone have so much damn energy! 

And you seem like a real nice woman, ma’am. Sarah had so much energy at seven, that’s when I put her in soccer to run all that damn energy out of her. 

His fingers hesitated, typing out the message but not quite pressing send. He liked her. He liked how sweet and funny she was. Plus, she understood what it was like to have a kid, someone who would always be put first. 

Since it’s technically 12:57, are you doing anything tonight? Is having a drink okay for a slight insomniac? 

Well, thank you very much Joel. I have a feeling Noah and Sarah would have gotten along well if they were the same age, he’s just started soccer practice for that very reason. And, lucky for you, Noah has an evening with his grandparents tonight, so a drink sounds lovely. Just let me know a time and a place.

His heart was thumping in his chest, a tired little grin on his face as he offered to take her to The Aristocrat Lounge on the North side of Austin. They settled on seven, enough time for Joel to get home, shower, and convince Sarah to help clean him up a bit. A daunting feeling pressed into his chest, making his breath snag tight in his lungs. He was nervous, those strange butterflies still fussing around. He shoved them down, persistent on ignoring the feeling. 

It’s a date. Try to get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, ma’am. 

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x F!Reader #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fluff #Joel Miller angst #The Last Of Us #The Last Of Us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us fic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #the last of us smut #joel miller tlou #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller Pedro Pascal

[amaesama]

jeff & EJ (separately ofc) popping their partners cherry & getting absolutely riled up about the blood ? like maybe they get very vocal and describe to them the mess they made on their dicks ? using words to fluster you up to no extent 🧚🏼‍♀️

Hi! I’m back! I’m so sorry it’s taken so long for me to do this, being in university means I have hardly any free time or motivation to write. Thank you for the request and I hope this is alright!

Content/warnings: I favour Jack, blood, Jeff’s a bitch,

Jeff the Killer:

Jeff isn’t a passionate lover, more like a selfish one, a little fucked if you will. We all know that he gets completely turnt off of blood and this will absolutely be conveyed in blood.

The man is definitely way too into knife play, but that’s a story for another time

The first time you have sex you’ll need to remind him that foreplay is indeed a thing cuz mans will be rough af and seeing as it’s your first time there’s just no way you’ll be able to take that. I don’t think he knows too much about sex, like he knows enough but he doesn’t know that you’ll bleed the first time, and you don’t bring it up cuz you thought it was a given that he’d know this. ALTHOUGH you had a feeling he would lose it for a bit.

So! You’re laying there, he’s on top of you (hopefully not in that rancid hoodie) and his cock is positioned at your entrance. My guy is shit at talking so he’ll just look up at you as a way of asking your permission, to which you’ll nod. He would never EVER say this but there’s a certain part of him that’s a TINY bit nervous so he hesitates for a second before he finally pushes in.

He hears you squeak and looks up to see you clenching your eyes shut in pain. He’s confused by this until he feels something dripping down his dick - he looks down and completely freezes when he see’s it’s your blood. He’ll just stare for a second before reaching down and touching it, like a weirdo. It takes him a few second to comprehend it and the man won’t even question it.

And then he loses it. He will instantly pick up the pace and push your legs up so he can get a good look at him going in and out of you, with your blood webbing over his dick. He’ll lean over to your ear and talk about how filthy you are, how beautiful your blood looks on yous skin, how you’ll have to clean up after the mess you made.

Usual name calling things, he’ll call you a dirty whore , messy slut, you’d be surprised at how creative he can get.

Lowkey degradation vibes.

Eyeless Jack:

As a former med student, Jack knows all about the body and what it does in certain situations. As a man eating demon thing he knows all about his own need to consume blood and flesh to live, which is why he’s…. Hesitant, to take your virginity.

He knows blood will rile him up so being the respectful man he is he’ll talk to you about it before you have sex for the first time. He’ll make sure you know all the terms and conditions and knowing him will probably whip out a form for you to sign saying you consent.

/hj

Nah fr tho, he’ll do lots of foreplay so you feel comfortable and prepared cuz he’s a big boy, to the point where you’re just like ‘😐 bro just get on with it.’ It’s not that he’s postponing it and avoiding actually having sex with you, he’s just worried for your safety and after a while the foreplay is more to help ease his spirits then prepare you for the potential dick down of your life.

The days or minutes of hours or whatever leading up to it he would totally just be reassuring himself that it’s going to be fine and you’re going to be fine and nothing bad will happen, but as he’s looking down at you now with the head of his cock slowly pushing into you, your tight virgin entrance squeezing around him until he’s finally able to sink fully into you, he has an awful feeling that he’s going to lose it.

For a second he thinks he’s safe, you’re face is slightly scrunched in pain but there’s no blood, right?

Wrong.

Very wrong.

He smells it first. A familiar metallic smell that he knows from every time he eats but a little sweeter, and at first he thinks he’ll be ok. Until he feels the blood.

He curls into you, his face into your shoulder as he breaths heavily into your neck. He’s trying so hard to just calm down, but you can tell from the grip he has on your waist that he can’t go on for much longer without going mental. He can feel and hear everything about you, from the tremble of your thighs to the pumping of blood in the artery in your neck. Your torso flush against his, the smell of your hair. He feels a rumbling growl in his throat as he instinctively thrust inwards, revelling in the feeling of your blood being pushed down his length.

‘Messy… so messy… so sweet…’

Nah you’ve lost him. He’ll start thrusting into you at a rapid pace, nails piercing your skin from how tight he’s holding you.

I honestly don’t think he’ll be able to form coherent words in this state, just a lot of growling and animalistic sounds, sometimes littered with curses and ‘dirty’ or ‘’s goin ev’reywherr… you’re- you’re cleaning this up.’

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #jeff the killer #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless Jack x reader smut #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer smut #Jeff the Killer x reader smut #smut