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sinsofsummers · 10 months

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sensational; part ii

6.8k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader follow-up to sensational

summary: you've tasked joel with teaching you about all of the things you missed. he's back for more...teaching moments. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. softdom!joel vibes in this one, joel gives reader an anatomy lesson, pet names (lots of dollface) fingering, praise kink to the gods, masturbation (f and brief m), reader gives joel a hand(y), grinding, bit of a corruption kink toward the end, jesus there might need to be a part 3 note: well. look at what you guys did. you went and loved on sensational so much and asked for a part 2 so often that i just had to grant your wishes. i hope you’re fckn happy✌🏼🥹 (this is all jokes i’m so excited to write more of this dynamic teehee)

You'd never counted yourself as a dreamer of any sort; when sleep clouded your brain at night, every thought faded along with it. Aside from the occasional nightmare, reminding you of your parents' absence, you hadn't had an actual dream since you were a kid.

Of course, that night in Joel's house had changed everything, in every possible way. In just an hour or so he had taken your world into his hands, shaped it, flipped it, and returned it to you, unrecognizable. His name was carved into everything you saw and touched, and this included your dreams.

He was everywhere in your head when you slept. So much so that you'd begun to forget which was reality and which was a figment of your imagination, which made your patrols with him all the more humiliating.

Your hands were cold. It was all you could focus on as you followed Joel along your normal patrol route. Just twelve hours had passed since that night in his house, when he'd touched you with rough hands and what taught you what it meant to feel desired. His words still rang clear in your head days later:

Trust me, doll. I've got so much more to teach you.

It sent your head reeling just to think about it now. The memory of his fingertips grazing the side of your face as he'd said it, those brown eyes sparkling with desire for you—a vision of contentment.

You had leaned into his touch subconsciously, reaching a hand up to trace the line of his wrist. His eyes had darted to where your fingers pressed to his skin, a soft grin replacing his satisfied smirk. "I'd better get you home, then," he'd whispered.

It had taken everything in you to ignore the small pang of disappointment that had bloomed in your gut, but it was an easier task when he'd dropped his lips to your forehead.

"No one'll miss me at home," you'd protested quietly, trying not to relish too much in the feeling of his beard scratching at the space between your eyebrows.

This sentiment was true. You still didn't know how things had worked out so well, but after arriving in Jackson, Tommy (the fact that it was Joel's younger brother made this seem all the less coincidental) and Maria had been more than accommodating. They'd offered you your own space, a house to yourself. Granted, it was much smaller than Joel's, but it was your own. It had become home in the four short years you'd lived in Jackson.

No one was waiting for you at home. It was a fact that used to make your throat close up, memories taunting you every moment they could. Now it was a welcomed thought, if it meant that you could remain in the heady presence of Joel Miller.

But he'd only shaken his head, his brown eyes flitting down to your lips before returning to your gaze. "I'm sure they'll notice when you don't come strolling out of your own place in the mornin'," he'd insisted gently. His thumb traced your bottom lip when your shoulders slumped. You hoped you didn't look as pitiful as you felt, your lip threatening to push outward in a pout.

"Might not be able to keep my hands to myself tonight if I let you stay," he'd breathed. You didn't care if he said it as an apology, or if it was actually true.

Because who were you to disagree with him? It was Joel.

So without more than a lingering hand on your wrist, he'd walked you to your door. When you'd teased him for such a chivalrous act, he'd cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at you. "Can't just let you walk home alone after that," he'd scoffed, his voice rough again in the outdoors. A few people were still milling about despite it being darker than pitch after nightfall. "M'not a complete scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.

Your front door always looked so inviting, a place for you to take a breath and relax after a long day. In that moment, it was taking everything in you to put one foot in front of the other and return to your own place.

"Scoundrel," you'd mused, hoping the amusement in your voice covered the way you leaned back with every step, as if you could claim one more touch of his body—arm, chest, shoulder—to send you to bed with nothing but him on your mind. "Kind of a big word, wouldn't you say?" you'd teased him, just as he'd done to you. "Sure you know what it means?"

The twitch of his jaw was enough of a reward for your attempt at humor, but your satisfied smirk had been wiped clean off your face when he'd darted a glance around before leaning in, hovering just centimeters from your face.

It occurred to you in that moment that you'd truly only kissed him once. A shame, a voice in your head sighed. His lips were devastatingly plump, even in the darkness.

Joel had stayed there, his eyes tearing down to your mouth before warning you in that deliciously low baritone, "I know what it is. Best get inside," his jaw twitched once more and you caught him clenching and unclenching his fists, "'fore I show you what it means to be a scoundrel."

You'd gone inside with a shaky breath and the return of that familiar pulse that, it seemed, only he knew how to ignite.

—

Joel chose not to look in the mirror when he'd gone home that night. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the way his hair was undoubtedly wild, his eyes hard with desire, and his hands still aching with the memory of her squirming body in his lap.

After four years of near silence, this girl had unraveled him. After all those days on patrol with her, nothing to do except look at her when she wouldn't notice, Joel Miller had been undone.

The next day, waking up early with the stiffness in his boxers begging to be dealt with, Joel spit on his palm and wrapped it around his cock, releasing a sigh. Fuck's sake, he thought with a groan. Can't hardly get a full night's sleep anymore.

It should have annoyed him; it was certainly an inconvenience. But if it meant that he'd get to spend more time thinking about her body and her lips and her eyes when she asked those incessant questions, then so be it. He'd never sleep another wink and be glad for it.

It didn't take long for his release to come, not when the memories of her whines were so fresh in his mind. To think that he'd had her on his lap, hips squirming in that way that only she knew...it was enough to make him—"A grown fuckin' man," he reminded himself—spill into his hands and draw ragged breaths into his lungs to recover.

With an arm thrown across his face, he latched onto the image of her in the heat of ecstasy, her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips wet from constantly biting them.

For a moment, he tried to rein himself in. Can't be doin' this, he'd thought while getting ready for patrol that morning. Don't wanna take advantage of her, or fuck her up cause of my inability to control my own desires.

In reality, he'd considered, did she really know what she was getting herself into? With little more knowledge than the mechanics of reproduction, it had been evident with the events of the previous night that she knew nothing of what pleasure could be. Did he really want to be responsible for her discovery of such things?

But when he went to the stables an hour later and saw her standing in the snow with an extra twinge in her grin and her eyes sparkling despite the echoes of fatigue in her irises, every doubt dissipated immediately. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered on his back when they saddled up, heading out of Jackson for the day.

Joel Miller was never one to deny a woman in need. Why should he have stopped now?

—

"How'd you sleep?"

When you looked over at him, almost shocked that he'd broken the silence, your eyebrow quirked up. "Fine," you answered.

It wasn't that this patrol had been disappointing, it was just...ever since you'd left Jackson that morning, you'd been waiting for him to look at you like he had the night before, or to even acknowledge you in the way that you could still remember him doing.

Maybe it was because Tommy was nearby at the time, or maybe he'd changed his mind after all. Maybe you'd overstepped, asking a man so much older than you to teach you all of this. Maybe it hadn't happened at all—your dreams were rather convincing these days.

If it hadn't been for those girls, hell-bent on making you feel ostracized, perhaps you wouldn't have landed yourself in this position. You probably wouldn't have had any reason to be curious about what it all meant, and you could have gone on in comfortable silence with him on your patrols.

With a heavy mind, you blew out a breath. If it hadn't been for those girls, though—you never would have known the creases that sank into the corners of his eyes when he grinned at you.

Beside you, having held back to come up shoulder-to-shoulder, Joel huffed. "Bullshit, darlin'," he scoffed, casting a sideways glance in your direction.

You tightened your hands on the reins. "Excuse me?" you said sharply.

His chuckle was a soft rumble in his chest, and you ached to feel it against your back. "I saw those sleepy eyes at the stables," he crooned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like you remembered. "Looks like someone didn't get a good night's sleep."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you slept like a damn baby, then?" You couldn't help the incredulity in your tone, but you blushed when you noticed him smirking, his lips twitching as he fought a smile away.

"'Course not," he shook his head almost dismissively. "Couldn't tell my brain to stop conjurin' pictures of you shakin' in my lap." He adjusted the way he was seated on his horse, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was getting hard at the reminder of the memory.

You, in a similar vein, were trying to ignore the unmistakable feel of heat puddling between your legs. Keeping your eyes forward, you asked, "Is that a good thing?"

Joel nodded. "A very good thing, dollface. You were so good for me last night."

Any air that had been in your lungs left in a rush, and you put a hand to your cheek, warm despite the winter's wind. You thought you heard yourself whine at the sound of the pet name.

Thankfully, he didn't say or do anything to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he tugged his horse to a stop. "Let's get down here," he said. "Walk and talk, yeah?"

The thought of walking beside him after all that had happened the night before was enough to make you freeze in your saddle, suddenly unsure of how to get down. "Yeah," you mumbled, if only to fill the silence.

You could hear the crunch of snow under his boots as he came up beside you, thick gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, darlin'," he'd insisted, "I won't bite."

There was a note of irony in his tone, and you let him pull you from your saddle, landing in the snow in front of him. Your jacket snagged against his, and you stood there for a moment, letting your frosty wisps of breath coil and furl with his. "What do you mean?" you asked, cursing your ever-present confidence when it came to asking him questions. It seemed that you'd never learn to hold your tongue.

"Hmm?" he hummed in response. "What's what mean?" He stepped away from you to grab the reins in his hand and began to walk forward in the snow.

You shook your head and pushed on, stumbling after him. When did the snow get so deep? "You sounded rather..." you trailed off, searching for the word.

"Oh, here it comes," he mused in that serious tone, hardly covering the teasing lilt that rang clear in his eyes. "Bet you're coming up with a big word right about now, huh?"

You couldn't help it when you rolled your eyes and swatted a hand at the back of his arm. "I was going to say you sounded smug," you finished. "About how you won't bite?"

There it was again. That look of slight surprise at your questions. You waited for a few moments, the two of you trudging along in the snow, before he answered quietly. "We're jumpin' ahead of ourselves, but I s'pose it won't hurt." He shrugged. "Some people like it. Biting."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Like it?" You looked down at your hands, covered in thick gloves. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Joel smirked. "It can," he considered, "if the person gettin' bitten wants it like that." He brushed your arm with his. "But some people don't like it at all. Just depends."

You braved a look up at his face and swallowed roughly, feeling your core pulse at the sight of his rosy cheeks. "Does it have to hurt?" You didn't mean to sound so desperate; you were just curious. "I mean, is it like...like a real bite?"

It happened so quickly that you hardly had a moment to process. Joel stopped in his tracks, pulled you near, and dipped his head down to your ear. "Don't have to," he murmured, and you were just starting to quiver at the feel of his voice next to your ear when he was brushing your hair from your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin. "Can feel good, if the person doin' the biting knows how."

You couldn't help the hand that shot out to grab his arm, as if it were the only thing that might hold you up. "I'm assuming you know how," you said thickly, eyes wandering on his weathered face. Funny, you thought at the sight of his grin, he looks quite young like this.

Joel shifted his arm so he could squeeze your hand once with his before letting it go. "Don't boost my ego too high, sweetcheeks," he warned, but you could hear the humor in his voice. "Might never let go if you do."

You knew he was kidding, but the prospect that he was being serious made your stomach flutter and forced you to clench your thighs together, bringing the forefront of your attention back to the frustration that was pooling between your legs. "Joel," you muttered in a whine, not quite realizing you'd said it until he was looking at you with a twinge of concern.

"What's up, doll?" he asked, slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?"

A curly tendril of his graying hair was blown into his face with the winter wind, and you wished you could brush it away with your fingers like he'd done just moments ago. "I..." you inhaled deeply, and shifted your weight. "I'm..."

It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, his eyes sparkled. "Oh, doll," he cooed, reaching forward to tug you closer to him. "Need something', huh?"

You leaned your head forward until your forehead rested against him, breathing in the scene of pine and old leather and that heady musk that was utterly Joel. Nodding into his strong chest, you brought your hand up to his wrist and tugged it down, down, down...there.

Joel's large hand cupped the mound between your legs and you swallowed harshly as it pulsed again, begging for the sweet release he'd given you the night before. "Fuck," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice rolling against your skin. "Shoulda told me you were this bothered, baby," he hummed.

You lifted your head. "I've been trying," you said in a pitiful whine, although this wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Why does it...why do I ache so bad?"

His smirk quivered, and his pupils were suddenly huge as he withdrew his hand from where it covered your heat, exposing it to the frigid winter air once more. "I think we've gone far enough, don't you?" he winked. "Think we may as well head back."

The implications of what would happen when you got back to Jackson made your head spin. Nodding feverishly, you let go of the twinge of embarrassment at your eagerness. "Yes, please," you hiccuped.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "Good," he murmured.

—

This was the worst possible outcome.

Just when you'd worked up to exactly where you wanted to be with Joel, with his hands on you and his intentions leading you back to his house (and hopefully his couch), Tommy stopped you at the stables.

Well, not you. Not you at all, actually. He stalked up to his older brother and said, Meeting at my place, Joel."

He'd just gotten down from his saddle to help you do the same and was letting his hands linger on your waist when the interruption happened. With his hungry eyes locked on yours, he'd been leaning into your touch and hovering his hands just inches from your heat.

You could have sworn he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tommy's voice; you just hoped it was because of his infamous hearing loss on his ride side and decidedly not because he'd been caught standing so close to you.

"We just had a meeting last week," he said gruffly, his eyes still searching yours. For what, you weren't sure—but you were quickly growing addicted to finding those rare flecks of gold buried in the espresso brown seas reflected back at you. His hands clenched involuntarily, and given the fact that they were resting around your hips, you got a delicious lick of pleasure that shot through your pelvis at the sensation.

Tommy didn't seem to be in the mood for dawdling. "And now we're having one this week," he insisted. "My place. Maria and the others are waiting."

You lifted your chin to see him close his eyes in annoyance. His mouth opened once; he closed it. When he opened it again, his eyes flashed along with the movement. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute," he said tersely, and you pretended not to notice the way his gloved thumb rubbed a slow circle on your hip. An apology, perhaps.

When he didn't move, you blushed with smug satisfaction. It had never been more clear that he didn't want to move.

"Joel, it's important." Usually, you'd never had an issue with Tommy. Now, of course, the sound of his voice clawed at your every hope for tonight.

With a soft look at your lips, Joel jerked his head to look at his brother. "I said give me a fuckin' minute," he said, his words clipped. "Fuck's sake," he muttered as he turned around. "Just answerin' a goddamn question," he finished, soft enough that you were sure his brother couldn't hear.

Tommy grumbled his fair share of disapproving words, but you couldn't help the grateful bubble that bloomed in your gut when you heard the shuffle of his boots as he left you alone in the stables with Joel.

He waited a moment or two before letting out a soft sigh. You couldn't have known how disappointed he was, but the way he lifted a hand to your cheek was clue enough. "New lesson, dollface," he said.

A pang of regret hit your stomach and you found yourself shaking your head. "Please?" you asked in a quiet voice. "I don't want a new lesson."

Joel grinned and sucked in a sharp breath. "I know, baby, I know." The familiar phrase threw you back to the night before, when he'd had his hands all over you, reassuring you with those exact words. But now, it wasn't a comfort. "But if I'm not around and you need to feel good..." His hand trailed down your cheek, brushed against your chest and returned to its previous spot between your legs. "I want you to practice touchin' yourself, yeah?"

His voice had become a near-painful whisper, just loud enough for you to feel rather than hear his words caress your skin. "This of me all you want, darlin'. God knows I'll be thinkin' of you at this damn...meeting," he practically spat the last word, but it didn't take away from the pressure that was building and causing you to blink rapidly. "Think about me," he repeated, "but I want you to explore this pretty body for me so you can tell me all about it when I get back."

The sound of his voice enveloped you, that heady sensation nearly making your knees give out. With a slow nod, you couldn't see yourself ever disobeying him. Not when he asked such sinful things of you.

"Okay," you whispered. "I'll try."

His mouth was in a hard line, his irritation at Tommy's interruption still prevalent. But it softened for a moment when he slid a gloved thumb over your bottom lip, letting it get pulled from its place before bouncing back. You darted your tongue out, wetting your lip in a desperate attempt to taste his leather on your skin; to taste him.

"Good," he said softly. Something new pulsed at the sound of his praise, but you fought it down. "I'll see you soon, doll."

—

Despite everything you tried when you got home—despite squeezing your eyes shut and picturing that dimple in Joel's cheek when he smirked, or the way his arms felt when wrapped around you—nothing helped. The pressure remained, the ache between your legs was ever-present, and yet...

You couldn't give yourself the release you craved. Not like Joel could.

There was no telling how long you tried, hand shoved down your pants in a sour attempt to replicate the feeling he'd given you. Your fingers were clumsy, untrained, and entirely new to the task, leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. A strangled whine left your throat when your mind flashed with the memory of his face near yours, his lips on your own, and his rough hands rubbing that small bud at your center. It was maddening.

He'd asked you to do this one thing, and you couldn't deliver. Of course, you'd never even realized this was a possibility; you'd only ever heard of men bringing themselves to the plummeting precipice of pleasure. You never considered that you could do the same.

But you didn't want to make yourself feel good. You wanted Joel to do it.

After what felt like hours, stuck in your house alone, Joel nowhere to be found, and with your hopes slipping into despair, you gave up. Your fingers would never be as rough or as thick as his. You didn't know how to explore your body when you couldn't tip yourself over the edge to ecstasy; it was impossible.

Weary and defeated, you went to bed with a groan. Joel still hadn't shown up. Either it was a long meeting, or...you didn't want to entertain the thought that he'd possibly forgotten about you. About your task to be completed.

You actually did drop off into a dreamless sleep, but when you woke to the sound of a knock at your door, you were almost positive the dreams had begun again. Swinging your legs out of bed, you trudged to the door with sleep oozing in every movement. The door opened with a click, and you blinked.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetcheeks," Joel breathed. A distant streetlamp, the only one in Jackson, was the sole source of light that illuminated the edges of his broad body on your porch. He looked near-angelic.

You didn't say anything for a moment, only crossed your arms to keep yourself warm in the face of the wintry outdoors. The relief and anticipation at seeing him here paired with the disappointment and fatigue that it had taken so long warred with each other, creating a dangerous mix as you managed to say, "Are you...hungry? Or something?"

He swallowed, and your head swam with the desire to lay your tongue flat on his neck where his Adam's apple bobbed. "Starving," he groaned, and in one step he was not only in your house but he was all over you, and you were wearing nothing but your thin pajamas.

He'd apparently already taken off his gloves, and when his hand came up to cup your cheek your body registered the chill of his fingers with a shock, despite leaning into his touch all the same. He took a moment to look at you before touching his forehead to yours, pressing his lips to yours gently. You could practically taste the restraint on his mouth, and you wanted nothing more than to beg him for everything.

Something about your face must have given it away when he pulled back because he tapped a finger against your cheek. "You look like you need somethin'." He darted a look down to your legs. "Did you do what I asked?"

You weren't sure what made you lie, but you nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh."

Even in the dark, he was so close to you that you could see his eyebrow lift in question. You didn't know how he knew, but why wouldn't he? This was Joel. "You didn't come," he concluded, and you ducked your head. "Why not, dollface? I thought I told you to."

The implication that his request was, in fact, a command, didn't slip your mind. Your cheeks burned when you forced yourself to look at him. "I couldn't. I don't know how."

"Sure you do," he whispered. "You did real good last night for me, remember?" His lips ghosted your jaw.

You shook your head. "I don't know how. I've never...made myself come."

When Joel looked at you, you could have sworn his lips twitched, betraying the desire in his movements. "I'm sorry, babydoll," he cooed, bringing his other hand to your cheek. He slotted his lips over yours once more, and it was all you could do not to sink to the floor right there. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?"

You nodded. "Show me? Please?"

Without another word he bent to brush his lips across your hairline—you could have sworn you felt him inhale with his nose in your hair—and murmured, "In the morning, yeah?"

You pulled away to complain but he only gave you a soft smile. It was then that you could see the exhaustion in his face, eyes downturned despite those creases winking at you in the darkness. "But—"

"Told Tommy you need a day off," he clarified. "'Cause you're...sore..." he splayed his hand on your back and tugged you near, voice low. "Ya know, from all that horseback ridin'."

An anticipatory chuckle bubbled from your chest. "No way he bought that," you said breathlessly as he nipped your jawline with his teeth (you were almost sure it was supposed to be a kiss). "I've been patrolling on horseback for years."

Joel shrugged and looked down at you with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe I should have told him you were waiting for me to come home and make you fall apart on my fingers," he said dismissively, but his tone did nothing to stop your stomach from flipping.

"Oh," you said dumbly, cursing yourself inwardly for how easily you were rendered speechless in his presence. "He'll...he'll really let us take the day off?" Your mind swam with the possibilities of what you could do with an entire day.

He shook his head. "Not us, darlin'. Just you." Tracing the line of your jaw, his lips twisted into a dry smirk. "I'll have to go tomorrow. But," he whispered, squeezing a hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow at the way your legs wobbled," I'd gladly go every morning all by myself if it meant you were in your bed all day, daydreamin' about me."

It was a heavier confession that you'd expected out of him, and you let out a breathy sigh. "In the morning then," you asked. You swallowed roughly in an attempt to push down the lump of pure need that had risen in your chest, but to no avail.

Joel nodded firmly. "Trust me," he hummed, "in the morning."

So you'd led him to your bed with no more discussion. It hadn't occurred to you that he might not stay the night; he'd come to your place after the meeting like he'd said, and it was the middle of the night. Why wouldn't he have stayed the night?

Despite everything in you fighting to stay awake, the second you returned to your mattress and pulled the covers up, your eyelids drooped. Joel stood at the end of the bed and shed his jacket slowly. "Sleep, doll," he said, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as he bent to kick off his boots. "I'll be here when you wake up."

—

Was he getting too close? Was he pushing the boundaries too far, too soon? Probably.

Selfishly, Joel didn't much care.

—

Sure enough—when morning came, when the dull winter sunlight crept into your house and draped the floor in soft yellow, you felt the dip of your mattress beside you and betrayed Joel's presence. He'd stayed. Like he said.

Quite the dedicated teacher, you thought to yourself with a satisfied warmth. You'd felt him climb into bed last night, but despite your every wish for him to press himself to your back and hold you tightly the whole night, he'd kept at least a foot of space between your bodies. Always close enough to touch, but never giving in.

You rolled over and swiped a hand over your face, a few stray strands falling into your eyes. The breath left your chest when you saw him there, eyes open and waiting for you. "Hi," you said, your voice rough with sleep. Again with the monosyllabic responses, you scolded yourself.

Joel hummed, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through the mattress and into your body. "Looked so sweet like that, darlin'," he mused, his rough hands tucked under his head. He reached one of them toward you and tapped your bottom lip, plump with sheep, with two of his fingertips. "Didn't wanna wake you up."

"You didn't." You weren't sure what made you do it, but you moved closer, shifting your entire body until your nose almost brushed his. Your eyes flitted up to look at the way his graying hair laid messily around the crown of his head, haircuts neglected for who knew how long. "Can we...I want to start now," you mumbled.

His jaw ticked, and he looked like he was swallowing down a grin. "Look at you," he cooed, "so eager. Aren't you hungry, doll?"

You bit your lip and you could have sworn you saw his eyes widen. "Starving," you fumbled over the word, imitating his response to you the night before on your porch.

Joel let go of a chuckle and his eyes danced with mirth. "Always turnin' my words back on me, aren't ya?" When you nodded sheepishly, he slid his hand around to cup the back of your head and he pulled you in, connecting his lips with yours. "Okay, pretty girl," he said. "We'll start. Since you asked so nicely."

His lips were chapped from the cold weather but they were still soft as he pressed them to yours, moving lazily as the two of you blinked away the last clutches of sleep. "Always so soft, these lips," he murmured, and then his hand was moving from your neck to your chest. "Everyone's different, yeah? There's these spots on everyone's body," he said, absentmindedly drawing swirls along the expanse of your chest, making you shiver. "Let's call them...pleasure points."

"Pleasure points," you repeated breathlessly, your stomach fluttering as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that—"

He grinned with a nod. "Think I just found one of 'em, doll." He rolled you onto your back and bent his head down, his breath fanning over your chest and warming you through your thin pajama shirt. "This is how we get you all ready for me, when the time comes."

You nodded quietly and let out a shaky sigh as his hands wandered. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you practically preened at the feeling of his lips against your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your breasts, moving over your stomach. "Joel—"

He paused, hand hovering over the hem of your shirt. "What, babygirl?"

You couldn't help the whine that fought its way out of your throat. "Please," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pressure that writhed in your core.

Joel's fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, his mouth widening in a grin at the way that your stomach rose and fell in spattered pants. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned, "open those pretty eyes for me. Gotta see you, doll."

It was all you could do not to take his hand in your own and shove it to your core where you needed him desperately, but you did as he asked.

"That's it, baby," he breathed, good girl."

You'd become familiar with the way your stomach clenched at his use of pet names, but this was new. You had done well for him. You wanted to stay that way. "Will you touch me please? I need—"

"So eager," he murmured, leaning in with his lips to your earlobe. "Lemme take my time with you, dollface." And then his lips were wrapping to the soft part of your ear, his teeth grazing at your skin. Paired with this sensation and the heady feeling of his hand on your waistband, fumbling to push his hand beneath it, you arched your back and released a series of high-pitched whines.

"JoelJoelJoelpleasepleaseplease," you were overcome with the pure, unbridled need that was speeding through your body like a tidal wave on a summer day.

"Alright, darlin', alright," he acquiesced, pushing his hand into your waistband and pulling it down over your hips. You didn't even have the mind to be shy about being laid bare to him this way; you just needed him to touch you.

Before you could beg him again, he had his fingertip on your core, sliding it gently through your slick heat. "Oh, baby," he groaned, rutting his hips against your side. His bulge pressed into your hip and you flexed your fingers to reach for it. "M'never gettin' used to how wet you are for me," his voice shook.

One finger became two, and then his fingertips were rubbing sweet circles to your sensitive bud, drawing near pornographic moans to tumble past your lips. "Can I touch you, please?" you begged, your hand fisting your bedsheets. "Wanna touch you, Joel, please."

He hummed against your ear as he swiped another finger against your bud and lifted your hand to his lips. "Sure thing, doll," he said, and placed it in his hair. Your fingers instinctually carded through the coarse strands, and you blushed when his eyes fluttered closed. "Hold on tight if you need to, pretty girl," he grinned, and lemme know if it's too much."

You were going to ask if what was too much, but then he dipped his finger further down your core, notching it at the small opening. You hadn't even thought this far ahead, that things would eventually lead here. Something pulsed and you whined, tugging his hair in your hand.

"Look at you, so ready for me," he murmured against your neck. His tongue swept out to lick a small stripe along the sensitive skin there and when you let out a stuttering breath he chuckled. "You are ready for me, aren't ya, pretty girl?"

You couldn't nod fast enough. "Please," you choked out, and then he was pressing his finger inside you.

It was a small intrusion, but overwhelming all the same. In all your years, you'd never had the thought that it could feel this good to have him close to you like this. He was only as far as the first knuckle, but with the way that his bulge was nudging your hips, he wanted much more. "Good girl," he breathed, "such a good girl, openin' your legs like this."

"Wanna touch you," you whimpered again, vision blurring with the desperation that coursed through your veins. "Please, Joel, let me touch you."

He kissed you, but you could hardly focus enough to move your lips against his. "Already touchin' me," he said. "You want more?"

"Yes," you nodded feverishly, releasing your hand from his hair. "I wanna..." you looked down at his bulge and licked your lips.

Joel's eyes were wide as he whispered, "For fuck's sake, darlin', when you're cryin' about it..." he swiped a thumb across your cheeks, collecting a teardrop you hadn't even known was there. "How could I say no?"

Thankyouthankyouthankyou were the only words in your mind, a jumbled mess as you reached for him. Your finger traced his length and before you knew it, you were reaching inside his boxers to release it from its constraints. "Holy fuck," you whined, bucking your hips into his hand as you saw just how big he was, long and thick and heavy in your hand. "Need it," you found yourself whispering. "Need you."

It was all you could do before he pushed his finger further, then out, and then in, just enough to throw you closer to that addicting edge of ecstasy. Once again, you found yourself enveloped in the thick pressure of pure desire in his arms.

He pressed the pad of his thumb to your bud and swirled circles in your heat, his lips connecting to your ear once more. "Alright, baby. Alright, baby," he practically chanted in a low tone, nibbling on your lobe just hard enough to pinch the skin. "C'mon now, squeeze my finger like that, that's it," he groaned, drawing out the final two syllables, "good girl."

With his hand in the crux of your legs and his mouth connected to your ear, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your sheltered life, you threw your head back into the pillow and curled your legs toward him, your hand squeezing his cock tightly as you continued your strokes.

The sounds that erupted from your throat as you burst in a state of pure pleasure were the most pitiful (and yet electrifying) noises you'd ever heard yourself make, and you couldn't help but continue rolling your hips into his hands, chasing the feeling until it became more intense and your legs began to twitch again. "Joel," you mewled, voice breaking, "I need you."

A teasing chuckle sounded, and your cheeks warmed as he removed his hand from your slick. "So much you don't know, dollface," he crooned, tracing his index down the line of your nose. He pushed another, shining with your release, into your mouth. The sweetness nearly made you fall apart again. "Don't know if you're ready for that."

Your body was on fire, nearly throbbing with the insatiable need to be wrapped in his arms, with his hands everywhere, his lips anywhere. Your hand had been moving on his shaft, but his hips stuttered with your next words. "I am," you insisted, "I need you, please. I wanna feel you everywhere."

Joel's pupils went wide and he shuddered out a breath, mumbling a string of curses with his eyes shut. He thrusted his hips into your hand and then your skin was sticky and warm with his own release, some of it landing on your stomach where you lay beside him.

"Shit," he groaned with a rueful smirk. "Maybe I'm not ready for that yet." His breath fanned deliciously over your skin as he continued. "Can't hardly last long enough with the thought of stretching you out like that, baby."

You grinned, and you didn't mind the fact that he could definitely see the flush in your cheeks. "No?"

He shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't wanna think about how quickly I'll come if I were to be inside that pretty pussy yet," he said with a short and gentle tap to your mound. When your hips arched off the mattress and you whined at the sensitivity, he cooed apologetically.

"Isn't that a good thing?" you frowned slightly. "I thought I was making you feel good."

"Makin' me feel too good," he mused, bringing his hand up to hold your face toward him once more. He winked. "Can't have me comin' before you do, sweet girl. Not very gentlemanly of me."

You couldn't help the pang of doubt that clouded your face, and it must have been obvious, because then he was cupping the back of your head and pulling you to his chest. Humming into your neck, he smirked. "Besides, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you. To see you squirmin' beneath me like you do, baby? S'enough to make the pope leave the goddamn church."

tysm for reading, i can't believe you guys convinced me to write MORE filth for these two. u made it to the end, lemme know what you thought!

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celestialscatterbrain · 4 months

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1. Natal Chart Observations

1. Libra Moon: decision paralysis that comes from feeling two contradicting ways about an issue. “I want my cake but I want to eat it too.” I feel like libra moons are the most sentimental of the air moon signs. Libra moons can constantly weigh out the pros and cons for every emotion you feel. “I want to do this but I don’t want to deal with how messy it’ll make things.” When libra moons are feeling a little lost, they can over-schedule themselves and their commitments to friends to avoid thinking about overly-vulnerable feelings. There is zero tolerance for imbalance in relationships. Poor behavior from a partner will be met with matched behavior to tip the scales back to a balanced one, even if the overall locational of the scale is descending into negativity. “You get what you give” mentality. Libra moons can be keen on the idea of karma. “Come to me with sweetness, or don’t come to me at all.” Daydreaming about romance is a relaxing way to pass time. Before maturity, libra moons might suffer from social anxieties when they find themselves in group settings where there isn’t a cohesive vibe. If someone around a libra moon doesn’t look like they are having a good time, it subconsciously makes it difficult for a libra moon to relax. The libra moon will then play the role of a diplomat or host/hostess to ensure the vibes equalize to restore their peace.

2. Mars in the 10th house: these natives are always making money. They are known for their side hustles too. They are always looking for new ways to make money and I feel like they are good at getting clientele. They will get their hands dirty for their job. For a man, this can point to a “blue collar ‘manly’ job.” I noticed 10H mars can be pretty generous with their money and services, but feel extremely terrible about getting help from others. If these natives aren’t confident where they are in their career or skill set(s), I noticed that they are likely to undersell themselves or undercharge for their services/time. It can also point to people in the workplace as perceiving the 10H mars person to be brash and outspoken. The authority figures in their career can feel a sense of competition with the 10H mars person, or wants to humble them in some way. I feel like it’s really easy for them to get good jobs or climb up the ladder when they do things the right way. They get impatient when they aren’t growing in their careers as fast as they want to. “Why am I not a millionaire yet.” They work hard for what they want and are very ambitious once they find their niche. I feel like these are often people who can find jobs that don’t necessarily need a degree. Their career mistakes feel explosive. They can be seen as “sharks” in their fields because they go in for the attack. They like to be the best and the most competent at what they do, and want their colleagues to see them as competition. “I’m the best and no one will tell me otherwise.” They can be known for being assertive and extremely determined in meeting their goals. They will work themselves to the core and utilize all their energy towards elevating themselves career and reputation wise.

3. Mars in the 1st House: These people might often be noticed for their bodies. They might be seen as someone you shouldn’t mess around with. They look athletic. Maybe they are known for fitness or for being athletic. These natives can be associated with the military, and probably look incredible in their uniforms. This is a man-eater or womanizer placement, for sure. “I get what I want when I want it.” They look like they have a rough exterior, even if they are sweethearts. They can be into martial arts. Commanding presence. They can make wonderful personal trainers. Regardless of gender, they can come off as being comfortable with their masculine energy. Reds look great on them. They might have thick eyebrows and a nice jawline. They look attractive when they are angry. They know how to make someone feel sexy. They have people chasing them or falling for them fast.

4. Pisces and 12th house placements: these people have no problem ghosting you. Pisces placements and 12H placements are always made out to be innocent and naive, but they are attracted to people and situations that have something a little “bad” about them. Savior complex. They can go through feelings where they feel detached from social settings and those they love, where they cannot fully escape the role of observer. They will always be able to fully escape into their internal landscape and get consumed by it— but it seems as though no matter how hard they try, they can’t have that same presence in the material world. This can lead to frustrating feelings of disconnection from the world and people around them. They can be smiling and staring off, but you will never fully know what they are thinking. They can make people really curious about them, because their thoughts always catch you off guard. Having an existential crisis on the daily. Casual things might have a bigger internal meaning to them that others might not always understand. We can find plenty of people attractive, but if the spark isn’t felt in the soul and doesn’t pique a deep curiosity, we will get bored and swim away. Liking people who are a bit “mean and dark” but wanting them to be sweet and soft with you. Using music to paint your daydreams, or to escape. Finding music that relates almost entirely to whatever they have on their mind feels like striking gold. They can like someone just for having the same interests as them. Feeling like a ghost in a flesh suit. Enigmatic. Can embody different vibes and personas depending on who they are around. They are sensitive and can adapt to the situations at hand. Too much self awareness can lock them in their heads. “I only jump into waters with the depth of an abyss.” Laying down for hours just to daydream and process your thoughts. Long baths feel like therapy. Moderation isn’t in our vocabulary. We love what we like, and we want to get lost in what we love. Not being able to properly process your day or interactions until you’re alone and can replay them in isolation.

5. Taurus Placements: I noticed Taurus moon women get spoiled financially by their partners. The type for their partners to say “don’t worry, I’ll work and you can be at home,” or that being their partners goal at a point. I noticed Taurus placements can enjoy the occasional shoplifting. They are not going to compromise their comfort, and if you come after that it will be met with intense stubbornness. They can seem nonchalant about a lot of things, but can be extremely unwavering in their opinions on certain things. In some cases, they can have strange eating habits or relationship to food. Thankfully, the Tauruses I’ve been around don’t project that on those around them. It’s more internal from what I’ve noticed, and they can enjoy feeding those they love and care for. They can have great taste in food. They love sensual vices and sex. They look great with pearls. They master an aesthetic and can stick to it. They are fiercely protective of those they love. They can be lazy at their worst and will not want to do anything that requires too much effort. They can be impressively good at couponing. Making money from home is the ideal setup for them. They will spoil their loved ones too, and can be great gift givers. They don’t cheap out with presents for their loved ones. They get much enjoyment from decorating their spaces and hosting their loved ones. They can be prone to overthinking and some may obsessive behaviors or crippling anxiety as well. They can honestly make the best scammers, as terrible as that sounds. They can sell someone a dream and make it sound beautiful, but can be lying through their teeth. Their jealousies can sometimes come from a place of vanity. Watch out for envying others, and appreciate your own beauty. They can focus so much on the beauty around them they forget about their own. They can be the image of beauty and grace, or strive deeply for that. They have pretty and soothing voices. Taurus placements can easily be the funniest person you know when they are in a joyful mood. I also noticed Taurus placements are wonderful at finding vintage pieces and re-selling them!

-D

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garoujo · 7 months

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hiiiii !!! what are your thoughts on reader bumping into ex!gojo at a party, after not having seen him for years? his unboxing has taken a toll on me i’m patiently waiting for anyone to write fics for him 🤸🏻‍♀️

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you don’t realise how much your heart still calls for your ex until you see him again, years later.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! sort of angsty but mostly fluff! ex!boyfie gojo, ex’s to lovers sort of vibe, very much right person wrong time ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i’m so sorry this took me so long to get to nonnie, i’m also sorry this turned out sad snifle! i wrote it to this song so i blame that! i’m sorry i just had to post for him tonite!

maybe you should’ve just stayed at home, you think despite the way you know you don’t mean it, as you let the drink in your hand swirl around it’s cup a few more minutes longer. it’s lost its bubbles slightly, it’s leaning more towards an hour old— still untouched as you lean yourself against the kitchen counter while your friends catch up around you.

it’s been a while since you’ve seen everyone like this, a few years atleast you’d assume and it was fun, recalling back the memories— the drunken nights and the time you spent together, the seasons you experienced. there’s a sentimental sort of feeling to it all, you realise.

everyone’s different now, not only in looks— in spirit maybe, married and settled down, running their own business or jet setting abroad. your childhood bestfriend is taller, she smiles softer now— maybe it’s the ring on her finger or the love in her life. it suits her.

“hey! you still with us?” she calls to you, just as you hear the apartment door close again— alerting you to more guests despite the way there’s probably around fifteen of you here already. you jolt slightly, sending her a smile before you’re placing down your glass and excusing yourself to the bathroom.

you allow yourself a few breaths to relax before you smile at yourself in the mirror, it’s nice being able to see everyone again— not realising how much you’d missed them and suddenly you realise that you’re so happy to have lived.

you pat yourself on the cheeks as you give yourself a silent little nod, soft sort of smile in place as you push your way through the bathroom door again— maybe a little too determined to seize the night when you send yourself into a hard chest as you clumsily leave the room.

“ah! sorry, are you okay?” you begin as you try to steady yourself but there’s hands there to keep you from falling before you even realise you’re on your way down.

“oh? it’s been so long you’re jumping into my arms already?” familiar, you think as the teasing response sounds smoothly and you can’t help the way your body seems to stiffen at the sound— like instinct. you look up and there’s a warm sort of squeeze on your heart at the crystalline gaze that looks back, cheeky grin in place.

you should’ve expected to see him here after all, gojo satoru had always been a constant in your past, up until a few years ago. he was your now ex-boyfriend after all.

he always had this air that seemed to follow him around — this noble sort of presence but he was even more handsome now, unfortunately. he’d grown a little more in height but he filled it out better now. his hair is longer but his gaze is just as pretty, as breathtaking when it meets yours.

you’re pretty sure if this were a movie there’d be a trail of women at gojo’s feet — back of their hand against their forehead and fawning for his attention.

you can still recall the nights you cried on your kitchen floor for him.

“hey, after all these years, you’re getting shy on me?” you didn’t realise you’d zoned out until you blink up to see gojo looking at you, teasing tone and his long fingers flicking gently at your forehead until you’re sending him a cute frown. he remembers that look all too well.

“no, shutup! i just didnt expect to see you.” you fall back into the dynamic quickly, like he’d never left— both of you parted ways gradually you think. it’s not that the love wasn’t there, but you just felt like your life had taken you down separate paths.

gojo satoru was your right person, wrong time is what you’d tell strangers at parties.

“are you sure? it seems you had an attack planned for my arrival, pretty suspicious i’d say.” he goads, teasing you again and you roll your eyes before you’re shoving playfully at his chest.

“you’re still so annoying.”

“hm? are you just embarrassed i figured you out? did you really think you could catch me off guard with a move like that?” you wish you could say you hate gojo, truly. but it’s been years and instead you realise that it’s quite the opposite, because he’s already got you laughing like you’re both teenagers again.

sometimes you wish you’d known him sooner, even just so you could love him longer than you can now.

“yeah right, i could totally beat you if i tried.” you laugh again, teasing as a cheeky grin settles on your expression and gojo squeezes at your shoulder playfully before you’re both finding yourself returning to the group. but the laughter doesn’t falter.

“you want a beer, satoru?” your friend asks as you both enter the lounge and you cast the snowy haired man to your right a glance before he answers. he won’t take one, he never was a drinker.

“nah, aren’t i fun enough already? it wouldn’t be fair.” he jokes, you all laugh. like old times.

the night continues and you catch yourself looking in your ex boyfriends.. in gojo’s direction a little more frequently than you’d like to admit. but you’re having fun, you realise as you all exchange jokes— even going as far as to pull up videos from your old phones, little vlogs from your days at the beach, shopping trips and more.

you breathe again, nestling back into your place on the couch as the rest of your friends get up to dance to one of your old playlists from a few years ago. you remember it well, like the soundtrack to some coming of age movie.

you allow yourself to look at him once more, to take in the cut of his features— the way his lips still upturn at the corners when he grins and the way he still talks with his hands. you think it’s cute that he still wears his hair down, still doesn’t do the top button of his shirts— you wonder if he still takes four sugars in his coffee.

you feel something twist in your chest with the thought before you look away again. you think it’s embarrassing in a way, the way you’re wanting must show when you look at him. maybe it’s because you already know the feel of his hand on yours or the soft voice he’d always use to call you out of sleep, the taste of his coffee on his lips when he’d kiss you as the sun woke up.

you liked the now, but then you remember how gojo satoru loved you and it’s like you’re aching all over again.

you breathe deep before the couch cushion to your left sinks as someone sits down and you know it’s him when it grounds you.

“you’re not dancing, gojo?” you begin before he can say anything, giggle despite the turmoil in your mind, your heart, and he sends you a soft sort of look before he chuckles.

“oh no, after all those times you told me i was a terrible dancer? it broke my heart so much, i’ll never dance again.” still a drama queen, you think to yourself as you watch him press his palm to his chest — throwing his head back against the back of the couch as he sighs.

“yeah right, you had a great dance partner to level you out back then though.” gojo laughs at that one, nudging his thigh into yours slightly when he does, but neither of you seem to pull away at the touch.

he settles down and you let the silence hang in the space where you both take a breath before he speaks again,

“satoru is fine, you know. i was always satoru to you, no?” gojo questions gently, although still trying to make it more lighthearted than awkward, and you feel the tension leave your shoulders when you exhale.

“okay then, satoru.” comes more naturally than you’d like to admit, but you’re not ashamed of it either when you notice the soft sort of glow in gojo’s eyes when you speak it with fondness.

he looks at you, nods like he’s smug, then pushes himself up to stand. emphasising how tall he is as he sends you a cheeky sort of grin, followed by his arm outstretching to offer you his hand.

“well oh great dance partner, i may need your expertise. you wouldn’t want me to embarrass my handsome self infront of all our old friends, would you?” gojo whines playfully as he bows towards you, free hand on his heart like he’s begging you for his life.. just his pride this time though.

“‘toru..” you begin, a soft sort of breathe and you wonder if he can hear the hope in it— your own hand twitching by your side.

“come on, for old times sake. you said it yourself, i cant dance without my partner there to lead me, right?” gojo satoru had always been terribly convincing, you realise as you recall all the other moments he’d whisked you off into other great things. memories that you still look fondly back on now.

“fine, for old times sake, satoru.” you finally answer before your hand is resting on his, noticing that is palm still feels warm when he pulls you to your feet.

for the love that once was, and the love that remains.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you

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sunkissed-zegras · 7 days

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𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | paigey being your girlfriend - a list of relationship "headcanons"

─ warnings | in a bullet-point formatting, i hope you guys like it! fluff (lmk if yall want nsfw ones bc i can provide), paige being DOWN BAD, social media tingz, maybe alluding to being outed but not really, some angst but you can skip over it, paigey being protective (duh), nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | THIS IS SUCH LONG MESS BECAUSE I'M HAVING PAIGE BRAINROT RN, but i hope y'all enjoy nonetheless LOL being in my paige era i've read so many of these and i'm sure you guys have as well, so i'm making this as unique (or descriptive) as i possibly can to make it because it's more fun to read (and write cus im a sucker for details)

PRE-RELATIONSHIP STUFF

when you guys first started dating, i feel like paige would be kind of secretive about it

maybe secretive isn't the right word but very... private but not secret type of vibe (at least irl)

not because she doesn't want to show you off, because believe me, she wants to (she's a bragger what can i say)

but just because she wants to keep you all to herself for a while

she knows that as soon as people find out about it, everyone will be talking about it and making assumptions and she just wants to keep you to herself

at least for a couple months

she doesn't care about the public's opinions but she wants to make sure that y'all are LOCKED IN before she makes it public on social media

but it's clear to paige that y'all are very much locked in after the first couple weeks

she's not new to relationships and she's had her fair share but she can tell that it's different now

so the whole "not sure if i wanna hard/soft launch her cus what if we're not a long term" sentiment turns into "i wanna keep this special thing to myself ONLY for at least a couple months"

and of course the entire team knows paige is down bad for you, they've never ever seen her this WHIPPED

because paige seems like she'd be nonchalant and SHE IS... for people she doesn't give a fuck about

so when she likes someone, she LIKES someone

she is extra what can i say

they tease her about it and in any other situation, she would be annoyed but she loooooooves it because it's like "yeah i'm in the best most awesome relationship with the cutest sweetest and kindest girl in the PLANET"

you and paige would've definitely known of each other since freshman year but like... she's kinda intimidating so you sorta tried to steer clear of her

you were really close with some of the girls on the team, specifically azzi so you saw paige kind of a lot

but sophomore year, azzi kind of pushed you guys to be close and since she knows you guys so well, IT WORKED!

you guys clicked so quick and that doesn't happen a lot with paige, it takes a lot to earn her friendship

but you practically ripped down all her walls within like an hour of talking to her

definitely the first one to catch feelings

at least... to her ;)

very much friends to lovers trope with lots of sexual tension cus who doesn't love that?

i feel like after 3 months of being really close friends, you guys would spend like a shit ton of time together

you guys were ALWAYS together

she even tried to convince you to come to practice with her but you said no cus... what the heck

everyone knows... EVERYONE knows that paige likes you

and it kind of becomes like cemented (for paige at least) after she realized you were her literal COMFORT PERSON

like after every terrible, long practice or after losing games all she wants to do is be AROUND YOU so she could forget about everything

especially when she gets injured, she's such a wreck and the only person who made her feel better was you

it wasn't even what you said or what you did, it was simply just you

and after going through such a bad time with you, she realized that she liked you and she can't keep pretending

and she asked you (yaya!) and you said yes cus you liked her back (yaya!) and everything is just YAYA

so it's safe to say she knows she's found her soulmate within a month of knowing you

but she doesn't wanna seem like she's love-bombing you or whatever so she pretended to be nonchalant

which of course FAILS because she's down bad

so she tells you she loves you within like a month of dating

i KNOW it seems bad but you guys both felt it because of the whole injury and spending every moment together

when you know, you know vibes

she told you she loved you after you were there for her through some of the worst times of her life and you said it back of course and it's all cutesy

paige's love language is TOTALLY quality time and touch

even before you were dating, she just liked having her hands on you whether it was like holding your hand while walking through a crowd, or braiding your hair, or putting her head on top of yours or something as simple as just HUGGING you

but she kept it cordial of course cus y'all weren't dating

yeah that was all thrown out the window as soon you became her girlfriend

hands on you at ALL times, it becomes so subconscious neither of you even know you're doing it anymore

so remember that whole secret relationship thing?

well... everyone kind of figures it out online after like 3 months of dating

it was because of paige, poor girl couldn't keep her hands and lips off of you after a particularly hard game and somehow 🤨🤨someone gets a picture and it was all over twitter and tiktok the next day

literally "paige bueckers girlfriend" trending after an hour of getting posted

but neither of you cared too much about it because A. it was totally worth it cus the kiss was 😫😫😫 and B. she finally doesn't have to turn off her girlfriend mode when she's with you at games

cus she has the prettiest and best gf in the world and she wants everyone to know that

the only reason she was slightly annoyed was because she couldn't hard launch you on instagram :( poor girl had potential captions in her notes :( cus she's our little drama queen:(

but that doesn't stop her cus she ends up doing it! (shameless plug right there hehehe)

now that she can freely touch you and just be herself finally, she literally doesn't GAFFF

of course nothing like over the top because sure she loves PDA to a certain extent and she's an athlete so she needs to keep it civil

RELATIONSHIP STUFF

we've already covered how paige is a physical touch and quality time girly

and paige loves spending literally all her free time with you because you just recharge her

but it isn't in like an overwhelming way

paige understand that sometimes you need quiet time (or vice versa) but the thing is she doesn't even need you to talk just being around you is enough

so idk if it's necessarily QUALITY time but just being around you and spending every free second she has with you tells you that she is in love with you

paige is the most protective person IN THE WORLD, not just with you like in general

it doesn't even have to be someone she knows, if she sees someone giving someone else a hard time SHE WILL STEP IN!

and with her friends, y'all have seen her... she does not back down and will literally murder anyone who comes for the people she cares about

so if that's with people she doesn't know, and her friends, you guys can imagine how crazy she gets over you

if somebody says something even slightly consendecing or mean, slap. someone looks at you the wrong way? slap. somebody breaths wrong around you, slap.

obviously she won't lay a hand on them first but likeeee would she back down, nope

she is actually your guardian angel

like at parties, her hand is always on you and she never ever leaves your side

you need to get a drink, she's coming to

if you need to pee? she'll wait in the bathroom for you

yeah don't expect her to leave your side

because even when she IS by your side, there is always a weirdo in your guys' ear trying to get with one (or both!) of you

but yeah she's not afraid to defend you when it comes to literally anything

and this doesn't only apply to strangers, if there is someone that you know (your friend, her friend, etc) she WILL stand by you and defend you

like she doesn't shy away from confrontation, she will say something but only if you want her to

and GOD HELP THEM if you shed a single tear, cus the next morning you bet she's saying something

like i said, paige is a confrontational person and that means she's the biggest communicator

if she has a problem, she will tell you so that you guys can fix it

but sometimes she can come off a little argumentative and like she's just attacking you

she uses a lot of "you" statements so it seems like she's pushing the blame all on to you

so that can be the root of a lot of your guys' arguments when paige is only trying to solve the issues

but of course paige doesn't back down so she will be arguing with you even if she doesn't even know why, she just hates being wrong

but she doesn't let you leave or go to sleep unless the problem is fixed (or at least on the road to being fixed)

she'll give you space, she'll go another room to take a breather but she will not let you leave until it is fixed

usually after the breather you guys can come to an agreement and then paige usually hugs all the anger outta you

cus who could resist her?

if the argument lasts a couple days (it usually doesn't unless it's something serious) paige will talk it out with her mom or her friends

and you'll usually do the same

and paige will force you to sit down and talk about it until it is FIXED because she hates not being able to talk to you

and when you guys do eventually talk about it, especially if it's a serious topic, it will end with tears with both parties

but you guys always make up and everything will be better

okay okay no more angst ... for now hehehe

i feel like paige's nervous tic would be braiding the ends of her hair so i feel like that would transfer to YOU somehow

she just likes braiding your hair!!!!!! or just running her hands through your hair, it would help her relax

and if you're like me, it will help you relax as well

if you're black/have braids, she would only touch your hair if you let her!

paigey takes pictures OF EVERYTHING so obviously that includes you

her camera roll consists of ONLY you atp, like... 20% pics of literally anything else, and the rest would just be pictures of you or something to do with you

and oh my gosh don't get me started on the damn .5's of you, some of them are HORRENDOUSSSS and paige uses them as reaction pictures sometimes

and you found out from azzi that she does indeed use them in the girls groupchat

but she argues that you just look adorable which you respectfully disagree

oh and don't get me started on her tiktok drafts, she has at least 1,000 (rip her storage)

and when y'all started dating she just makes cute relationship tiktoks but she never posts them

EXPECT the "you're spinning me around, my feet are off the ground one" cus she wants to prove to the world that she has muscles

and the tiktok girlies will cry but WHO CARES!

oh and if you're on the basketball team, they will started to fan-girl over you as well

HELLA TIKTOK EDITS

and paige will favorite, repost and comment on them

like the most down-bad, insane comments you can think of

"GET THE STRAP GET THE STRAP!" is one of many ✨✨

if you aren't on the team, trust the tiktok girlies will find a way and they will make edits of you

and paige will do the same

obviously you do the same for her, your favorites are just paige edits atp (mine too)

ESPECIALLY THE GET IT SEXY ONE OMLL

and everyone will make ship edits and cutesy things like

"omg the way paige looks at her" and like a slideshow of paige being like all 😍😍😍

after paige gets more comfortable with like the media knowing about you two, she posts you every five seconds

usually like stories and stuff and especially if you’re also a basketball player, she reposts ALL your stuff

she is a proud gf !!!

she also has a highlight FOR SURE, she loves

also she def has like 10 diff wallpapers of you and her, some are really cute and some are really… 🫣

also paige strikes me as the type to like be texting you ALL DAY

and girl doesn’t care if you reply, she will send you 8 consecutive messages of different things

“omg look at the group chat 😂 *insert screeshot*” “baby they ran out of fucking caramel at dunkin, how does that happen ?” “i ended up going to a local cafe why did this shit cost me 9$” “baby you’re coming to my game on saturday right?” “HAHA look at this meme 😂” “why haven’t you responded to my tiktok’s in 2 days?”

yes she 100% uses the laughing with tears emoji argue with the WALL

or skull emoji

she also sends you 20 minute snapchat vlogs and they’re so chaotic, especially when she’s at practice or something

kk will steal her phone and say hi then you’ll hear them play fighting for like 80% of the vlog

also she does grwm’s on snapchat too when she’s at away games and her morning voice is SOOOO SEXY CUTE

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #uconn headcannons #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #women's college basketball #wcbb fic #wcbb x reader #wcbb

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ecmlol · 2 months

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So I had a long conversation with someone about wrecker and why he isn't seen as a father figure as much as hunter is. And I don't know why it took me so long to notice it . I have always believed that wrecker is the closest thing omega has to a father figure. But hunter is giving all the credit in the fandom. It's the same as when a father does the bare minimum and people shower them with All the praise and mother's with nothing. Wrecker acts more maternal in a traditional way than any other batcher does. You might think I'm off my rocker with this but hear me out. Think about the traditional mother figure ? They are more physical ,normally emotionally, sentimental, and detailed oriented. Wrecker is the most hands on bad batcher than anyone else. He knew she needed space so he found a way to provide it for her with a privacy curtain and everything. Next he provided her with his doll. He didn't have to but he knew she needed a toy. Through his own love for food they started a tradition and they bonded over mantel mix . It's like a little special thing only they did together .it made her feel special. I put money wreck was the one that saved all of crosshairs stuff for sentimental value . I'm sure they still have all of techs things too. It's like the baby books a lot of moms want to do . I'm sure there are sentimental dads to but when most people think they think in hetero normative terms it goes to mothers. You can't forget that he was teaching her about bombs and tech was teaching her about ships and flying . What has hunter really done beside being the stand offish father that worries about your physical safety. Wrecker was even the first to greet her after omega return.if it wasn't for omega I think wrecker is the glue to the bad batch.

Side bar when wrecker hugged both crosshair and hunter at the same time if was giving mama bear vibes just saying..

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silvermoon424 · 5 months

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I'm convinced I have the worst vibes detector of all time. I used to be a fan of Creepshow Art, iilluminaughtii, and James Somerton- all high-profile creators who got their careers tanked because they're bad people. Given the absolutely huge number of creators I subscribe to it's not surprising that this has happened multiple times, but still.

Then again, when I expressed this sentiment in the past and kicked myself for not being more aware of the red flags, someone told me that means I just want to see the good in people and am more willing to forgive faults than others are. I think that's spot-on tbh; I'm a very naive and forgiving person, which has often been taken advantage of. But it's just my nature, I can't help it.

This will inevitably happen to me again, but I'd rather not beat myself up over not constantly being attuned to every red flag people give off.

#just wanted to post this for anyone else who also feels gullible and naive because they keep missing signs other people pick up on #hbomberguy #james somerton #illuminaughtii #internet drama

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willows-escape · 3 months

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Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 1

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the topic of the mask was the last obstacle in your blossoming relationship, and you were desperate to cross the barrier and become fully intertwined with the man you loved and claimed he loved you too.

Warnings - erik’s deformity is a mix of the deformity we see erik have as a child in the 1990 version and the musical, phantom having a small breakdown, the ✨mask✨topic, poorly dealt with feelings, miscommunication, suggestive moments and reference to genitalia and arousal, descriptions of a gory facial disfigurement, intense self hatred, mentions of christine but she’s long gone in this

Word Count - 4,770

Notes - there will be a part 2 i gotchu i gotchu. should part 2 be smutty or also just suggestive? also i tried writing this in a victorian-esque tone but if you arent vibing with that let me know and i’ll switch it up for part 2. i just thought it would be a nice touch.

give me feedback !!! pleasee !!!!

01 (you're here!) / 02

The nearby sound of trickling water gracefully blended into the ambiance of your surroundings; the towering trees above you resembled a verdant canopy. The quilt beneath you protected your body from the prickly blades of grass and artificial soil, offering a comfortable spot to recline with your hair spread out beneath you, shimmering in the artificial light.

You laid supine, hands elevated above you to cradle a book you had recently begun reading. The words captivated your attention, submerging you in a realm of fantasy and euphoria. Reading was your preferred means of escaping reality, a release you frequently yearned for when the burdens of the world weighed on your shoulders. It all faded away when you became engrossed in the pages of a book.

Regrettably, you were not the only person who was aware of your coping mechanisms. The situation was quite an affair, so you wouldn’t delve too deeply into the small details, but the love of your life had at long last informed you of his reciprocal affection for you. It felt magical and otherworldly to hear that sweet confession escape his enthralling lips, his eyes penetrating into the depths of your soul as his hands tenderly grasped your waist. You had witnessed the words that you only ever seemed to hear in your dreams.

So what had left you so apprehensive?

Well, the man you spoke so highly about, Erik, did not seem to return those high opinions for you. There was a part of himself he laboured ceaselessly to conceal from you, a mask that symbolically and literally kept up a barrier between your world and his world to prevent them from intertwining. You’d exchanged tender sentiments, cried tears of anguish and passion the night you’d finally confessed. You clung to each other as if your lives depended on it and subjected each other to a night of basking in vulnerability and fragility as your secrets long harboured tumbled past your tongue before you could restrain them. The morning after was no less exquisite and that of a fairy tale romance, but the barrier remained.

That mask he wore, pale and icy to the touch, silently spoke of his distrust for you. The final puzzle piece that he adamantly refused to fit into place, even for the sake of your love. Oh, it was a cruel predicament indeed! All you desired was to behold the appearance of the man you held dear, but he swore by the highest heavens that his visage would send you fleeing, and that was the last outcome he desired. To some extent, you understood his apprehension, having heard him recount tales of how numerous individuals he had cared for and adored had reacted abhorrently upon the unveiling of his face. But how could he expect the two of you to spend the remainder of your lives together without even a glimpse of his unadorned skin?

You weren't expecting Prince Charming, and while you weren't entirely convinced by his claims of him having a face of nightmares, you did trust that he might not be conventionally attractive. After all, you had never seen him. Besides his gentlemanly actions and his physique that seemed as if it had been crafted by a divine being, you weren't going to assume that he was the most handsome man in the world. You would love him nonetheless. But no matter how greatly you persisted and promised him you wouldn’t leave despite what he looked like, he truly did not believe a word you said. And it hurt.

“A new book, dear?”

You glanced upward, granting the subject of your grovelling a tight lipped smile as you hastily flicked your attention back to the words on the page. No anger dwelled within you, just painful disappointment, and the ache in your heart made it hard to bare the sight of him. “Of course. It’s Jane Eyre.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his walking cane planted firmly into the ground below. You internally winced as the silence rang loud in the air. You were not seeking to upset your lover, but also somehow desiring to communicate that you weren't entirely pleased at the moment. It appeared that the message had travelled clear, but the upset was unavoidable.

A moment more passed before he spoke, “I feel a chill coming on. Seems as though it’s about to rain, don’t you think? Come, let’s retreat inside before it starts to pour.”

You arched a suspicious eyebrow, fingers still tightly clasped around the novel you held. If the plastic animals scattered around that Erik had stolen from the props department said anything, everything in this quaint woodsy area was unquestionably fake. From the dirt to the grass to the trees, the animals and the sky. It went without saying there would be no rainfall. This meant he wanted to discuss things with you without the distraction of your nose being buried within the pages of a book. And you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

“And why should I do that?” you questioned, paying him no eye contact as you pretended to continue to read.

“You wouldn’t want your clothing to get wet, would you? I won’t be visiting the laundry room of the opera house for another week, hence it would be wise to avoid sullying a valuable item of clothing,” he reasoned, knowing fully well that he’d drop whatever he was currently doing to run and fulfil any request you asked of him, never mind visiting the damn laundry room.

You parted your lips, ready to jestingly remark about how there would indeed be no rainfall. Yet, in that very moment, a peculiar sensation graced your senses. A solitary droplet of water descended upon your nose, its touch cold and trailing a path of dampness as it glided down your nasal bridge. A gasp escaped your lips as more droplets descended, their frequency increasing with each passing moment. In a hastened flurry, you stood upright, clasping your cherished book to your bosom. You abandoned the forgotten quilt as you sprinted through the doors adorned with stained glass, leading you back to Erik's modest dwelling. He followed closely, not far behind your hurried steps.

You’d have to speak to him about putting up a gazebo. To block out the sun, you’d tell him.

“Guess you were right,” you half-heartedly chuckled, absentmindedly tossing the book onto a table to the side of you.

You found yourself in Erik’s room of treasures, where he stored and cherished his most esteemed items, namely his collection of masks and his grand piano. The ambiance within was of a tranquil and serene nature, causing your anger to gradually dissipate. Yet, the sorrow and anguish still lingered within you.

"Forgive me, have I down something to displease you?" Erik questioned, his steps measured and deliberate as if he were trying not to startle you, akin to approaching a timid creature. With utmost gentleness, he lightly laid his hand upon your shoulder, allowing it to glide downward, tracing the contour of your arm.

"Erik…" you whispered, tearing your eyes away from him. Your heart faltered, your breath catching in your throat as his fingertips delicately brushed against your skin. A fire simmered in your core, your veins rushing with hot blood as the touch of his hand engulfed you, overwhelming your senses with a fervour. “I… do not wish to upset you.”

“The only upset you cause me is by not being honest with your feelings,” he replied, hand reaching up to gently trace the skin of your cheek. Your eyes felt weak, gently fluttering shut as you indulged yourself in his affections. “Please, tell me what is troubling you.”

You paused for a moment, allowing yourself to succumb to his touch for a little while longer. The words settled on the tip of your tongue, ready to escape you and take a leap of faith from your mouth to his waiting ears, but you’d already approached this subject with him before and did not wish to push him to frustration or sorrow.

“I just…” you paused, “One day, Erik, do you wish for us to be husband and wife?”

His eyes widened, mouth agape in shock at your blunt statement. He stammered in surprise, removing his hand from your cheek slowly. He drew in a deep breath before answering, “There is nothing I desire more than to be wedded to you. Where is this coming from? Are you feeling as though our relationship is moving too slow? I just didn’t want to frighten you by pushing for more. Why, I’ll marry you tomorrow-”

“Erik, Erik,” you laughed, hand coming up to cup his cheek with your own hand as he was doing to you seconds ago, “I didn’t mean it like that, though I’ll marry you the second you ask it of me. Maybe not tomorrow, however.”

“Ah,” his nerves tingled, goosebumps rising on his skin at the electricity of your touch. He cleared his throat before continuing, “While that is a great relief to me, may I ask as to why you asked that, if not for the reason I previously thought?”

Taking one last final pause, you readied yourself to confess your true want. “I know you’ve said no, and told me to not bring up the subject again… but my love, how can I marry somebody when I have yet to see their face?”

Erik pursed his lips, his eyes shifting down as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. You felt dreadful witnessing the unease that the inquiry evoked in him, understanding that it inevitably resurrected distressing memories he longed to forget. Nevertheless, no advancement could transpire between the two of you in your relationship until he allowed you to see his face. You refused to be bound to someone who concealed such an essential aspect of himself, even if you knew the intentions to be entirely pure.

“I can’t do that,” Erik shook his head, walking away from you and moving towards his basket of walking canes. He placed his current one back with the bunch, before busying himself with rearranging his mask collection. He didn’t want to stray too far from you, but also wanted you to drop the subject.

You quietly tip toed behind him, enveloping him in your arms as you wrapped them around his waist and placed your head on his broad shoulder. You audibly heard his breathing pause, feeling him shiver as he relished in your touch. But nevertheless, he pushed on with rearranging his collection, although he wasn’t moving side to side around the table as he was doing previously.

“But why?” you asked.

“You know why, my face is that of nightmares. And I’ve hurt too many by showing them what they believed they could handle. My expectations are realistic.”

“You could never hurt me!” You insisted, your emotions getting the best of you as you retreated from him. He hunched over slightly, hands resting upon the clear spot of table in front of him to steady himself. His head twitched to the side as he bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Dear, I know you think that I exaggerate when I speak of my face, but I can assure you that I do not lie out of simple insecurity. My own father hid me down here due to my appearance, that must speak volumes,” he sighed, coming up once again to stand straight. “Now please, do not ask again.”

“So when I inevitably return to wallowing in my own feelings and escaping to the woods for hours at a time again, will you tell me to not ask again when you approach the subject of my feelings once more?” you tried to reason, desperately wanting him to view the situation from your point of view.

He didn’t respond for a little while, evidently pondering your words that he knew deep down held some veracity. The matter of the mask was evidently causing you distress, and he couldn't fathom any solution that would alleviate your concerns. But alas, he simply couldn't bring himself to do so.

“I’m sorry, my answer’s no.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and longing. Your vision blurred as a single tear cascaded down your cheek, tracing a path of sorrow. Your body trembled with silent sobs, your shoulders shook as you struggled to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. The ache in your heart grew stronger, as if each tear shed was a testament to the love and vulnerability you had offered, only to be met with rejection.

“My dear, please, don’t cry over me,” his arms swiftly enfolded you in an embrace, his own frame quivering with an inability to endure the sight of your tears. With a resolute tenderness, he pressed his chilled lips upon your forehead, bestowing a gentle kiss as he cradled your head against his chest. In a steady rhythm, he swayed, seeking to soothe your anguish and stifle the heart breaking sounds that escaped your lips.

“How can I not?” you wept, fingers shaking from how firmly you were clinging onto his white button up shirt. You were grabbing on to him so tight you feared your nails would pierce holes in the delicate fabric, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relinquish your grip no matter how much you internally fought with yourself. Nothing you were doing seemed to be venting your frustrations adequately, leaving you at a loss for how to cope. "My love, the very essence of my existence, the one who breathes life into me, steadfastly refuses to show me his face."

“You must understand- I feel for you exactly as you describe your feelings for me, if not tenfold. That’s why I can’t show you. I’m protecting you just as much I want to protect myself,” he confessed, eyes squeezing shut as his swaying slowed to a stop. His grip was becoming tighter and tighter.

“I know life has dealt you an unfair hand, Erik, I’ve heard your cries and witnessed your heartbreak. I was there for you all throughout Christine, I was there to see your regret and misery as she left you behind. I did not leave your side for a second. I know the great despair and trauma her reaction to your face cast upon you, but please believe not a hair on my head resembles Christine. I will not hurt you the same.”

Erik held you a little longer, his embrace becoming even more so impossibly tighter. He wasn’t urgent to reply, instead allowing himself to bask in your love for as long as he could manage. Your sweet love was an addiction, an ambrosia he craved every single waking hour. But even then you lived in his dreams, your angelic presence blessing him wherever he went or whatever state he was in.

“I love you, Erik,” you spoke, looking upwards towards him as he began to tilt his head to share your unwavering gaze.

“I love you too,” he said.

“So show me,” you whispered, eyes glistening with tears and lips downturned into a subtle frown.

You took one last look into his eyes, before pushing yourself forward and up. Your lips met in a fervent union, a culmination of the deepest desires and longings that had long been brewing between you both. It was a kiss imbued with a delicate tenderness and an irresistible urgency, your mouths moving in perfect harmony. Each brush of his lips sent electric waves coursing through your body, igniting a blazing fire within your soul. In that timeless moment, you and him surrendered yourselves completely, losing all sense of time and space. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent pledge of profound love and unwavering devotion.

As you reluctantly broke the intimate connection, succumbing to the need for a breath of air, your gaze met his half-lidded eyes. His lips were swollen, and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. A blush crept across your cheeks as you attempted to conceal the rapid beating of your heart, finally becoming aware of his hands that had gradually ventured downward, tenderly tracing the curves of your waist.

He silently took a moment to recover, savouring the lingering taste of your kiss. It was unlike any other you had shared before - no longer innocent and brief, but a passionate embrace that ignited a fire within you. As your lips met, it felt as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. The intensity of your connection was palpable, like a match being scraped against a stone, creating small sparks that danced and flickered between your bodies. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, your hearts racing with newfound desire and a longing for more.

“If you really insist on seeing my face, come with me to your room. I do not wish to make you feel cornered, but if you are to faint I wish for you to not bring yourself harm.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The kiss you shared made every colour appear more vibrant and the air feel lighter, filling every fibre of your being with pure bliss. As you followed him, each step felt buoyant, as if you were walking on air.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your room. Erik was very against you two sharing a bedroom, stating that he did not wish to make you uncomfortable or feel trapped next to him, when the reality couldn’t be farther from that. But you feared that he might’ve just been projecting, that he was the one who felt uncomfortable and trapped with the idea of you two sharing a room, so you’d left the topic alone for another day. That day still hasn’t arrived.

Erik took a hold of your hand, gently pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He shook slightly, so lightly that you almost thought your eyes were deceiving you. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything, besides how much I love you,” you giggled.

“I… will not keep you down here, if you decide you never want to see me again. I’ve learnt my lessons, do not fear you reaching the same fate Christine did when she reacted negatively.”

You wanted to protest his words, state that you feeling negatively towards him was inconceivable and never going to happen. You also wanted to tell him to stop mentioning Christine, just the utterance of her name made you scowl. But you didn’t want to argue at a time like this, so you just nodded your head.

“Before I take this awful thing off… that kiss was everything I’ve ever wanted and more. If after this you no longer love me, please know that your display of love made me feel like a normal, living man, and that I’m doing this because I know I can die happy after the fact, if you were to leave.”

“I’m honoured to be able to make you feel that way, my love.”

He hesitantly extended his hand towards the strings that secured his mask to his head, skillfully undoing the knot he had carefully tied. As he prepared to remove the mask, he couldn't help but steal a final wistful glance at you, savoring the moment before gradually peeling it away from his skin, gripping the edges tightly with his other hand. The air seemed to hold its breath as the mask revealed the vulnerable visage beneath, unveiling a hidden side that had long been concealed.

His face was a grotesque sight, something that defied accurate description. The skin was cruelly stripped away, revealing the raw and twisted muscles beneath. It was a horrifying visage, and it made your heart ache. He was deformed, disfigured; the only parts of his face that were covered in flesh were swollen and bright red, contrasting the pale whiteness of his bone. You tried your best to swallow the gasp that was pushing past your throat, but you were human.

You were sure you could hear the sound of his heart shattering, but you were so shocked you could only watch as he crumbled to his knees before you. His screams and cries made you nauseous, his repeated wails of, ‘why!? why!? why!?’ as he grabbed onto the hem of your skirt, hiding his face in the fabric in his suffering. You snapped back into reality, falling to your knees in front of him.

“Erik, no, please-”

“Go, please. Leave me.”

“No, please, hear me out. I don’t hate you-”

“This is hardly a face you’d want to marry!” he protested, burying his face deeper into the fabric of your skirt, resisting as you tried to pull it away. “You may not hate me, but you’re scared! Is this the face of a man you could wake up next to, spend the rest of your love with, make love to at night before we sleep? Please just go!”

“No!” you cried, relenting on your attempts to tear his desperate self away from your skirt. You wrapped your arms around him, this time cradling him against your bosom as you rocked back and forth. You felt the tension slowly dissipate from his form. “I do not hate you and I am not scared of you! I want to do all those things with you, Erik, please I swear!”

His quiet sobs continued to echo through the air, his scared body shaking erratically. With utmost tenderness, you cradled his quivering form in your arms, holding him close and providing a safe haven for his shattered heart. Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, whispering words of love and reassurance into his ear. Your touch and soothing voice offered him comfort and solace, doing your best to remind him that your love extended far beyond mere physical appearances.

In that moment, as he sought refuge in your embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and compassion for this broken man before you. Despite the mask he wore, both symbolically and literally, you saw the depth of his pain and the vulnerability he rarely allowed others to witness. Your heart ached for him, yearning to heal the wounds that had haunted him for far too long.

"You are more than your face, Erik," you whispered softly, your voice filled with unwavering affection. "Your heart, your soul, and the love we share transcends any physical imperfections. I love you for who you are, please believe that."

As his sobs gradually subsided, he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope and acceptance. In that moment, you saw a spark of belief flicker within him, a tiny beacon of light amidst the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

"I… I want to believe you," he choked out, his voice trembling with both fear and longing. "But all my life people have only said different. How can they when I don’t have a face, and only the resemblance of a face?”

You held his face gently in your hands, your touch conveying a tenderness that words alone could not express. "I understand. I’m sorry for reacting like that, please forgive me. I love you regardless of your face, it was just unlike anything I’d ever seen before. That’s all. I feel no differently for you than how I felt before you removed the mask.”

He hesitantly inclined towards your touch, his eyes seeking yours for reassurance and acquiescence. He quivered as a vehement cry escaped his lips once more, bedewing your bodice in his tears. Yet, you cared not the slightest, more preoccupied with consoling the poor man trembling before you.

You both sat together on the floor of your bedroom for an indeterminate span of time, but to you it felt like hours. You cradled him like a mother would her infant, tenderly caressing and comforting him with gentle touches and whispered reassurances. You hadn’t seen Erik shed tears since the evening of your confession, and you could only surmise that all the trepidation and unease had finally reached a breaking point and crumbled along with his composure. It deeply saddened you to know the man you loved so intensely hated himself and had been hated so harshly by those around him. You vowed to never cause him pain like everybody else had as long as you both lived.

Eventually, he withdrew from you, gracefully settling on his knees, his hands still shielding his face from your view, protecting his vulnerability. He wiped away the glistening tears that adorned his cheeks, his other hand instinctively seeking to conceal himself from your gaze. A pensive frown graced your mouth as you hesitantly reached upward, your fingers yearning to grasp his trembling hands, only to recoil as he instinctively recoiled in response to your advance.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve seen it all now, haven’t I?” you hushed, hands dropping from his hands but instead reaching up to smooth back his hair with your fingers.

He sniffled quietly, “Forgive me, I did not intend on frightening you. I am simply unused to showing my bare face around others, it’s unfamiliar.”

“Of course, I understand, love,” you smiled, gently trailing your hand down the side of his face. Goosebumps littered his skin like a trail.

You moved closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. You kept one hand on his face, basking in the warmth of his skin that didn't have any disfigurement. Your other hand gently draped over his shoulder as you approached, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his back. He quivered beneath your touch, his legs extending out from under him to create a space for you to come impossibly closer. As you lowered yourself onto his lap, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins. His breath, warm and intoxicating, caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands trembled with uncertainty, itching to remove themselves from his face to come down and touch you instead. You chuckled.

“You can hold me.”

His breath caught in his throat, his mind filled with a whirlwind of desires as he absorbed the words that flowed from your enchanting lips. You couldn't help but chuckle softly, savouring the profound effect you had on the man beneath you.

“I’d like to put on my mask, dear,” Erik finally spoke, “As much as I love having you so close, I’m not ready to show myself to you so unashamedly yet.”

With a nod of your head, you stepped back, allowing him the space he needed to shroud his face from view. Though you comprehended the internal struggle he faced after years of hiding, a bittersweet pang of sadness tugged at the depths of your heart. The poignant reality that he still felt the need to shield himself wounded you deeply. But you tried to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t personal.

He swiftly and efficiently retied the strings, maintaining his determination, as he stood up following you. You leaned in and planted a brief but meaningful kiss on his lips, savoring the moment before reluctantly breaking away. With a mix of emotions swirling inside, you diverted your attention, attempting to shift your focus away from the recent event that had transpired.

“I’ll be out dusting the statues, you haven’t kept up with them in a while and I’d noticed them on the way in and I think they could really use a clean. I’ll speak to you later.” You quickly retreated from the room without even sparing a second glance.

Erik stood there, mouth agape, unable to comprehend the suddenness of your departure. His mind was flooded with a multitude of questions, doubts, and confusion, hindering his ability to think clearly. As he glanced around the room, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over him, as he tried to process the intensity of the moment and the speed at which you had vanished from his presence. Meanwhile, his body felt an uncomfortable strain, as his arousal pressed insistently against the constricting fabric of his trousers, adding yet another layer of complexity to his already tumultuous thoughts.

You were no less aroused, the tingling sensation in your nether regions proving that you had been mutually affected by your lover. Oh lord, this was going to cause problems.

#phantom of the opera #poto #erik poto #erik the phantom #erik destler #cherik #gerik #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera musical #musical #phantom of the opera x reader #poto x reader #fluff #smut #angst #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #1990 phantom of the opera #2004 phantom of the opera

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gorillawithautism · 4 months

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antizionists out there who are jews-in-progress or who are or were seeking conversion to judaism or jews who are fully converted already i wanted to write a little love note to you specifically today <3

this might be a bit rambly and disorganized or it might end up really short because honestly going into this i have no idea of what i want to say. just the vibes i want to get across. so this might be dumb but bear with me

i've seen this sentiment from antizionist jews across the board (as well as feeling it myself): being an antizionist jew is really fucking hard right now. it involves a lot of questioning oneself and one's understanding of religion. for many of us it means being isolated from our communities. it's by no means easy.

but something i've seen from converts specifically is having to ask yourselves "is this the religion i chose?" "should i really be converting to a religion like this?" "is it okay for me to want to be jewish when there's a genocide being committed in the name of judaism?"

i'm not a convert. i was born jewish into a jewish family and brought up jewish. i don't know what it's like to be a jew with that history. but i do know know that i love you. i know that zionism will not taint our name forever. i know that, at it's core, judaism upholds antizionist values. i know that being antizionist is a mitzvah. i know that being jewish is an inherently beautiful thing and being antizionist allows that beauty to shine as it is meant to. i know that judaism means loving the world and all its peoples.

and i know that you sought out judaism because of this. i know that you converted, are converting, or wish to convert because of this. not because of the way zionism has portrayed our religion as one of superiority and oppression but because of how our religion is one of love and kindness.

and i know that i love you. do you know that? do you know that i love you? do you know that you are loved by the people and the religion you have joined, are joining, or wish to join? i love you jewish converts.

i saw someone recently say that they had been considering giving up on their conversion and it made me so sad. why would you give up on something that makes you happy? that aligns with your values? that you wanted so desperately to belong to? why would you give up on that? i know why. and it's not fair that you've been made to feel this way. but i love you. and i believe you can still be jewish in a way that is a mitzvah. i believe you can still be jewish in the way you wish to be

don't give up i love you :)

#swingset #judaism #sws judaism

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sincerelywhistler · 21 days

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✨PART 5✨ of things my husband does that are so violently Asher Coded, I had to compile a written list and turn them into headcanons:

part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4

That’s… so many parts… but y’all ask and ye shall receive.

• Invades David’s (his actual best friend’s name, yes) fridge the moment he steps foot in his home. He asks nicely at least, but it’s like feeding deer— feed him once and he’ll keep coming back

• “You’re ruining the vibe with your logic and rationality”

• Legitimately scared of butterflies

• Drops a drink or glass at LEAST once a month, knocks them over regularly. He has his own designated plastic cups now.

• Once said to me “your company has taught me how to love all of life’s insignificant details that most people often overlook” then immediately spun off to microwave a breakfast pastry while not wearing any pants ??

• (These sentimental drive-bys happen often)

• Calls himself a trophy wife. He’s a 6’3” cis man.

• Will give you a 12 pt. size Times New Roman double-spaced essay with proper citations on why “it’s just more environmentally friendly to shower together as a couple”

• Arms.

• Told people that he was my ex-boyfriend when we got engaged, then later my ex-fiancé when we got married

• If he can’t make a sexual innuendo because of the sort of company we’re in, you can feel the energy thicken and you just KNOW that he’s fighting for his life to keep from blurting it out anyway

• Stretches after waking up so LOUDLY like a whole ass dog. VERY Asher Talbot me thinks.

• [I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry blasting through the stereo at 5 billion decibels] [full performance included]

• Is the type of pretty that just fucking pisses you off does this make sense

• If he doesn’t write an event down on a calendar, it simply does not exist

• Proposed in the most casual manner by teasingly asked if we should get married, paused, then got out of the bed and proceeded to dig around in his SOCK DRAWER for the ring he was hiding, crawled back into the bed, and practically straddled me to repeat if we should get married

• Has an average body temperature clocking in at whatever the surface of the sun is

#redacted asher #redacted audio #How has it been a whole month already?#Fox doesn’t have social media but he’s aware of this series #He also claims that he’s going to do one of his own in the near future which is horrifying #redacted asmr #asher talbot #redacted fandom #redactedverse #redacted headcanons

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kimpossibly · 1 year

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𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐓

REQUEST Hi hi happy new year!! I love your rowan fic (can't wait for part three) and I was wondering if you could do hc's for Wednesday characters (Wednesday, Enid, Xavier, Rowan, Tyler) seeing their SOs in a suit (preferably a female reader please)? thanks! — anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: AHHHHH MY FIRST REQUEST!! Hi hi happy new year I love this prompt! I'm getting maaaaaajor Kate Bishop vibes here...this is so exciting. I kind of ended up doing the suit hc + how they would act when taking you to the Rave'N, so I hope you like that bit as well :) Happy new year! I hope you enjoy it!

PAIRING: fem!reader x wednesday characters WARNINGS: two little suggestive comments, but other than that it's just fluff!

✰ 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒

We all know that Wednesday is not one to show enthusiasm...or any emotions. About anything. Ever.

But when you appear in the doorway in a suit, she almost almost cracks a smile.

She recovers quickly, of course, and gives you a brisk "You look nice."

I'm just going to assume you're wearing a suit to some sort of formal event — maybe even the Rave'N

Regardless of where you're going, Wednesday sticks by your side the entire night, glaring at everyone who looks at you.

Basically she's giving everyone the silent "She's mine."

And if anyone comes up to you to flirt? Oooo boy she is threatening them with everything she has.

And after the potential flirters walk away, terrified, and you give her a surprised look, she just stares back at you like she's done absolutely nothing wrong (which, in her mind, she hasn't.)

"Wednesday, what was that?"

"A reasonable reaction to people hitting on my date. Why do you ask?"

And you can only roll your eyes at her, blushing like mad as you wrap an arm around her. "No reason."

✰ 𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑

Now Enid is the exact opposite of Wednesday when it comes to this. When you pop up, girlie squeals.

As in, loud enough to make everyone cringe and cover their ears

Once again, in the opposite fashion of Wednesday, Enid takes every opportunity to show you off to everyone, so much so that you end up a little embarrassed.

"Everyone, look look look! Look at how good Y/n looks!"

"Enid."

"What? Can't I tell everyone how good my girlfriend looks?"

While not socializing, she is dragging you onto the dance floor just so that she can admire you from every angle

And every five minutes she reiterates the sentiment

"Ugh, Y/n, you look so good!"

"I know! You told me five minutes ago! And five minutes before that! And five minutes before that!"

Poor girl is sooooo down bad.

✰ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐄

I feel like he'd get so thrown off by you in a suit that it'd be easy to mistake it for him not liking it.

Like, he's just so baffled that he can't properly articulate his feelings towards it.

"Y/n...you...um..."

Your heart starts to sink a little, but you cover it up with a small grin.

"That bad, huh?"

Needless to say, that gets his lips moving.

"No!" he shouts, a little too loud. "No, no of course not. You just...you look incredible."

He just genuinely forgets how to get across how drop dead gorgeous he thinks you look

And he feels sooooo much pride when you guys walk in together

He's not going to show you off verbally, but with you on his arm, he's exuding "Yeah, that's right, look at my badass sexy girlfriend."

And towards the end of the dance, you'll ask him if he's ready to go

"Ready to leave?"

"Yeah," he says, then leans in to whisper in your ear, "I really want to see what that suit looks like on the floor."

I think you know what comes after that...

✰ 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖

Oh my God...this boy forgets how to speak.

The second you appear in the doorway wearing the suit, he's a stuttering mess.

He's gonna need his inhaler if he wants to get a few words out

Once he gathers himself, he'll finally tell you how amazing you look

God he feels so cool arriving at the dance with you on his arm

He's just like me...he thinks women in suits are hot.

Literally cannot take his eyes off of you the entire night

He's not much of a dancer, but if you are, he'll probably suffer for a few minutes or so. Just for you.

Plus, it's just another opportunity for him to look at you up close, which is a total win for him.

Also, he is very touchy just in general, but I imagine especially so at this dance.

When you're off to the sides, he'll keep an arm wrapped around your waist or a hand locked in yours.

If you're sitting, he'll keep a gentle hand on your knee

And when you're dancing? He will be holding your hands, waist, anything.

He just likes the feeling of security and knowing that you're there with him and you're not going anywhere.

He'll probably even pull you out of the dance a little early, just so you guys can get back to his dorm before Xavier gets there

✰ 𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐍

I may not know much, but I know that this man is going to get you blushing in 0.000275 seconds.

He'll momentarily be awestruck by you, but of course he'll recover pretty quickly from the shock. Then, he'll say something that'll get you all hot and bothered

"If I had known you were going to pull off a suit better than me I would've brought sweatpants."

Idk what it is about that slightly awkward, slight confident vibe he has going on, but it works

He knows how to make a gal smile, that's all I'm saying.

He'll be a proper gentleman the whole night, but he's expertly hiding how freaking good you look in that goddamn suit.

He'll probably even make some kind of "twinsies" joke...because, you know...you're both in a suit. Please laugh he'd be so embarrassed if you didn't.

You guys would be on the dance floor ALL NIGHT

You'd be tearing that shit UP don't lie

And it is so much easier to maneuver in a suit over a dress, so you best believe you guys are doing allllllll the dancey dances

The only reason you stop is when one of you is about to collapse and you need to go slam some punch for stamina.

And at the end of the night, he would pull you close just to tell you once more how absolutely amazing you look, just to see the cute lil blush that follows <3

#wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #rowan laslow #rowan laslow x reader #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #wednesday headcanons #wednesday addams headcanons #enid sinclair headcanons #xavier thorpe headcanons #rowan laslow headcanons #tyler galpin headcanons

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undercoverpena · 11 months

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the book of love

frankie morales x f!reader (bookshop!au)

summary: wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he looks at you. “I need a book.” “You… you need a book?”

wordcount: 4k an: written solely for @wildemaven who has continuously been kind, and wonderful and let me ramble incessantly to her. i heart you. warnings: soft!frankie, meet cute, bookshop meet cute. romance. sweetness. kissing in a closed bookshop vibes.

Wednesday's don't usually bring strangers.

It brings boringness and drawn-out hours until you can lock the door and hope for a better day.

It's why he caught your eye the moment he walked in.

Tall, handsome—cap pulled down—and his hands tucked into his pockets like he’s not sure what he’s doing. He’s broad, shoulders raised to his ears, and his spine so impossibly straight you wonder if he’s purposefully trying to make himself more on edge.

Chewing the top of your pen, you observe him shuffle his cap again, trying to tuck himself away between tall shelving. Slowly suspecting it's not to hide his face, but rather to blend in.

Escape.

He’d have been able to if he didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

Everyone (local and just in the perimeter) knows this place. It’s the privilege of being around for decades. Having once belonged to your Aunt, and now to you. A place that had felt magical when you’d run around in pirate costumes and capes, words being read to you. Now, it was magical for other reasons.

The shop was as much part of the town as the town was a part of you. A place you had once frequented in the holidays, before weekends when you could drive. Now, it was your everything. Your workplace, your business—your home.

It’s why the shop practically screams to you when someone new enters its door.

An anomaly in the usual.

Sometimes, there were a few. Inconsequential travellers, those who needed a book for their kid as they went from A to B, and sometimes a soul who needed a map to keep them from being lost. There have even been a handful of those looking to entertain themselves while they passed the time.

There was a book for everyone.

A sentiment that has been instilled in you from the moment your aunt first let you stock shelves and earn pocket money. It’s why you give him several minutes alone, letting him wander, all aimless and without reason—worn leather boots sounding in the silence usually smothered by the radio (if the speakers hadn’t conked out this morning).

It would be easier to focus on ordering, scanning down the new releases and ticking off the repeats.

Naturally, you chose the more difficult option—staring off, eyes landing on him, taking in how his features are prominent yet soft. His lips twist in confusion as he scans random shelves—a finger sliding over the spine before his eyes drop back to the tired wooden floor, moving to a new section.

You tap your pen once, twice, thrice before you abandon it—casting it somewhere close to the register as you move from around the counter. Your hands clutching, tugging at the ends of your tee, pulling it down appropriately as you round a bookshelf and find yourself in front of him.

And god, is he pretty.

“Y’need a hand… sir?”

It drops from your lips effortlessly. All well-practised from the dozen or so times you say it. But, it comes out squeakier than usual, higher pitched, all thrown off by the way his eyes swallow you whole, and his lips rise at the last addition to the sentence.

“That obvious?”

You smile—politely. Stemming back anything more, smothering the soft thudding of your heart against your ribs. “Well. You’re not from around here.”

His lips tug further up on one side, the threat of a dimple set to show—a small laugh threatening to spill and spread across his features. It’s the fact he stares that allows you to continue doing so, to keep watching the way his eyes drink you in—both of you standing awkwardly in the non-fiction section of the tranquil and empty store.

Whatever he wants to say, he chews on it.

His hand pushes the bill of his worn hat up, scratching at his hairline, glimpses of curls gracing the top of his forehead before they’re hidden away once again.

“How’d you know?”

Shrugging, you adjust your stance. “Only bookshop in this town for decades, and you don’t know the layout.”

“Maybe I like wandering around aimlessly.”

It’s your turn to laugh. Louder than his—braver. “No. No, you don’t, but that’s cute. What’re you after?”

“Something to keep my hands busy.”

You blink back the comment on your tongue—the insinuation—trying not to glance down at the hand hanging at his side. The one so large, all thick-fingered and just dormant.

Swallowing, you nod, absently pretending to think up a solution as you bite the inside of your cheek. “You thinking DIY, vehicle fixing or home renos?”

“Not vehicles,” he says quickly—almost too quickly.

“Alright, let’s see if DIY has something for you.”

It does.

Your hands slide over spines as you read the titles until one hand envelopes yours—cocooning around yours on the edge of a book.

That one.

He said it much lower, eyes laser-locked on yours.

When he’s paid, he lingers at the counter. Your mind still reeling from the warmth of his hand, the spark it sent up your wrist, to your shoulder and down your spine.

It isn’t until he whispers a shy thanks, heading to the door before cautiously closing it behind him does your brain think of anything but his hands. Then it’s his smile—soft, almost lazily sent through the glass.

A part of you, which is only bold when the moment has passed, wishes you’d said something more. Got his name, flirted. Hell, even made him linger for another ten minutes to see if you could get him to laugh like he did at the shelves.

Unfortunately, you have to swallow it.

Because it’s rare to see a stranger return, even if they say they’re happy with the service. Most of the time, the town is a stop for them—a way to rest before continuing on their way.

Unlike with those before him, you rarely remember their faces—just a rough account of the book they bought.

Him, you remember. If you could draw, you’d be able to sketch how his veins stood out on the back of his hand when he took the book from you. The shape of his eyes and the swirls of gold mixed with the shades of brown when he’d adjusted his cap.

You linger in it, the memory of how your skin felt under his gaze, allowing yourself secret seconds of wishful thinking when he walks in.

So much so, you blink.

Fingers pinching the skin at your wrist—unsure if it’s a mirage or real. Bearing down in the skin, until it begins to more than hurt.

He’s here—the mysterious hat-wearing DIYer.

It takes you by such surprise, you almost drop the gum from your tongue. Your mind emptying of all the practised moments in your heads—the ones where you’d only had the chance to see him again in a make-believe world.

This isn’t make-believe. It’s real.

Words, so usually able to sprout, vanish. Crumble. Turning into ash in the depths of your mind—new ones struggling to form as heat rises in your cheeks.

It’s quick to dawn on you how out of practice you are, how irregular it is. Good-looking men (you’d almost flirted with) don’t tend to return to the shop. They don’t hover in the space between the shelves and your register.

But he is.

Standing. All nearly six-foot of him, staring at you like you’re the only thing that could quench a drought.

“Twice in one month?”

“What can I say?” he says, scratching the back of his neck, knocking his hat ever so slightly—allowing peppered-brown curls to show. “You sell good books.”

“I sell the same books as other shops, but thank you….”

“Francisco—Frankie. I’m Frankie.”

It flutters out: a smile. Letting it hang on your face, blissfully breathing, the two of you lost in the centre of acoustic music crackling through your somewhat fixed speaker.

“So, Francisco, what you looking for today? Still wanting to keep your hands busy?”

The look he sends you makes your ears and cheek burn. Worsening more so as he doesn’t tear his eyes away from you, a reply sitting on the edge of his tongue—likely trapped behind his teeth.

You’re holding your breath. For what, you’re not sure. A response. Something.

Almost filling the silence with a throat clear, a rap of your knuckles, a tap of your nails, but the bell for the door chimes instead, your eyes ripping from him to the familiar face of Miss Fell from the coffee shop.

He promises to come back in the future, but promises are so easy to break, that you don’t hold on to them.

It’s why it’s harder to control when you see him in the doorway, your lips already curling, eyes studying every inch of him as he strolls over—cap positioned as usual, faded yellow-ish jacket, a similar overtly-washed tee and denim jeans.

Eyes lock with his through the space in the romance section—ironic, if you say so yourself—your arms full of hardbacks, shoulders burning, near screaming.

You only focus on the tension, how it thickens, breathes. It crawls out from the walls and thrums to the beat of whatever is playing on the local station. You need it for restocking—the more uptempo beats aiding your mission of ferrying books from one side to the other.

Frankie’s eyes travel to them, the boxes half-open behind the counter and the trolley you’ve abandoned—the one which had been squealing in protest across the floor, working against you rather than with you.

“Hi.”

“Hey, hermosa.”

It drips from his tongue as though he’s called you it before. Instead of trying it for the first time.

He's used your name, the one given freely; he's also used the nickname you'd handed him after a few more visits, the one friends and family call you.

Today, it seems he'd rather call you something which kisses the air with intention and makes your stomach flutter.

“You visit the town a lot for saying you don’t live here.”

“I live in the next town over—so, just a short drive.”

He says it casually, and you almost believe him if not for the fact you know the distance.

“Well, something keeps making you repeatedly visit—lemme guess, it’s my book recommendation, isn’t it?”

It’s bold, maybe too much so.

The words form and leave your tongue before you can even reconsider them. So sweet, far too rich—more daring than you’d usually let escape when working.

It’s out there now, billowing in the space between you as he comes around the shelving, your hand pausing on the hardback's spine as you look up to find his stare.

He’s smiling.

Leaning his shoulder against the shelf, arms folded across his chest as his eyes burrow.

“Partly.”

You place the books, adjusting the shelving. “Only partly? Guess I need to step up my bookselling game if other things are getting you to come back.”

He keeps his eyes on you, but there’s something there. It ripples, going against the beat of the tension—standing out like an ink stain on a plain white tee.

“I’m… I’m going to meetings held out the town hall.” He mumbles, smile fading with each word, the confession gracing the air with so much softness it’s as though he’s hoping to cast it to you gently. “Got into some shit, but I’m getting clean now—was stupid… bad. Just wanted to… get a handle on it without everyone gossipin’ about it.”

You nod, trying to find the balance between not staring and meeting his gaze. A careful balance is needed for such a confession that you’re not entirely sure you’re capable of achieving.

“That’s… that’s really good, Francisco, that you’re wanting to, y’know put the work in.”

“Frankie,” he interrupts.

As he has done every time you call him that.

“Please call me Frankie, Hermosa.”

It’s hard to hide that he makes your throat tighten, especially when he lets his new name for you fall so delicately from his tongue.

A bouquet of warmth blooms in your chest, a sea of it crashing down and soaking you from head to toe.

“I just mean,” you murmur, watching him tilt his head to look at you, doing so with kind eyes and a warm smile. “I—I don’t judge you… we all make mistakes.”

He smiles a little wider. “Thanks, Hermosa. I… I appreciate you saying that”

“If you keep calling me beautiful, I’m gonna keep calling you Francisco.”

“Well, what else can I call you when you look as pretty as you do?”

Burn. You burn.

Heat floods your cheeks, and you’re sure he must feel it. Purposefully casting your eyes to the side, turning to pick up more books from the floor.

But his remain. Fixated. Intentional. Busy consuming and swallowing all the things around the two of you, until it's just the two of you that remain.

Not that you mind, care. You only see him.

The world around you both a little dimmer, the music a little quieter, as if everything is tuned into him. The man in the cap with the beautifully, stunning eyes.

“You keep flirting with me, and I’ll drop all my books.”

He wipes his hands on his jeans, gesturing to you to hand him some of the load. “Just so I can keep flirting.”

“You don’t have to…”

He gestures again, more purposefully.

Pursing your lips, you surrender. Seeing how much he wants to, allowing his fingers to brush down your forearms as he takes them and trying not to shiver under the intensity of it.

It’s harder to ignore the spark, the one lit, running through you to light fireworks in your stomach that’ll explode in your bones, in your nerves—all over your goddamn body.

“Francisco…”

“Hermosa.”

If tension were a gas, there’d be no air to breathe.

All poison. No oxygen. You think you’d swallow it all the same, gallop it back to keep your eyes locked on his—feeling your ears burn similarly to your cheeks and chest.

“They go in that space down there,” you say. “You might have to bend over, y’know, to get them to sit nicely.”

He grins, wicked—daring. It’s accompanied by a lot of teeth and a wide smile. Pretty—handsome.

“Should have let you do these ones, huh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to let your brain run away with itself. Unsure if you can let yourself believe that something akin to a rom-com could currently happen to you.

“Don’t think the sight would be as good as the one I have.”

His eyes cast up at you, a mischievous glint to them he immediately banishes. “Now, who’s flirting.”

In time, you come to expect him. Only on a Wednesday, never another time.

So much so, you don’t glance at the door longingly when the bell chimes. You don’t brace for the smile that blossoms when you spot him (irrespective of whether he’s brought you a coffee or a baked good).

Today, unfortunately, isn’t a Wednesday.

Just a regular, non-Francisco day that you wish would bleed into another. Having spent many times between his visits planning, plotting—full-blown award-winning speeches re-enacted for the next time you see him.

There have been ones where you ask him to go for a coffee, ask whether he’d visit you on a day that isn’t a Wednesday. Getting tired of just waving him off, watching him shoot you a final smile as he headed to his truck.

It’s stuck with you, that feeling.

Knots inside, mangled together with other moments you replay and wish you could change when you should be sleeping. So many missed moments, shoulda-woulda-coulda, you don’t want him to be added to the pile.

Today, more so. It always is after a heavier, slow and tiresome day—one which stifles all your usual happiness and excitement of being in a place you love.

Dragging your feet, fingers flicking the lights off, you watch as the window spotlights extinguish the displays you’d worked on to keep busy. Moving to the door, fingers reaching to turn the sign, twist the lock—

He’s here.

All flushed cheeks, mouth open.

Francisco’s hand clutches the handle, bending at the hip as he swallows mouthfuls of air—holding a finger up.

One minute.

He’s rushed—actually rushed to get here.

Pulling on the handle, slowly letting the town air seep in as he slowly stands.

“Hey?”

“You… you shutting?”

“I was about to.”

Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he looks at you. “I need a book.”

“You… you need a book?”

He nods, hands falling to his lower back, stretching.

“Come on in then.”

You have to give it to him. He pretends to glance at the shelves for several minutes before he pulls something from a stand without staring. His performance does allow you to close off your computer and tidy up around your desk before he places a book on your desk.

“Woodworking?”

He shrugs, adjusting the front of his cap, palm smoothing over his forehead as fingers tuck away his curls. “Considering it is all.”

You nod, scanning it as it pops up on the till—your hand reaching for a bag as you feel his eyes sitting on you. They’re heavy—weighty.

It makes you warm, standing under his stare. Something close to the sun, making you turn into it as a smile falls passively across your lips.

“You know, one day, you’re gonna have to show me what you’ve been building with the number of books you’ve bought.”

It’s an off-hand comment, a playful one.

It lands, but not in the way you’d hoped.

His eyes searing, as though urging you to hear words he isn’t saying as you take the money from his extended hand. Words you would hear if he even whispered them due to the quietness—shop all closed and locked except for the two of you.

You’d expected him to be playful, like last time—more jokes, having found more comfort. But, if anything, it was like the first time he’d walked in, hands stuffed in his pocket, shoulders close to his ears.

He pauses, the brown bag lying on the counter and not in his fist, like usual. Your hand remains over the till, one note still in hand as you glance at him.

“That everything?”

“No.”

It’s soft.

More whispered than exclaimed. Yet, it makes your throat tighten—eyes fixate on him a little more intensely. Taking him in differently than you usually do.

Usually, you linger over the way his nose slopes, how his eyes always have a twinkle in them—that a few wisps of hair poking out underneath the bill of his cap. That he wears earthy shades and smells of sea salt mixed with cedar, a mysterious scent that lingers even when he’s gone.

Now, you focus on how his eyes are a little wider, soaking you in rich brown, wearing hesitancy across his broad shoulders and tight-lipped face.

You say nothing, both not able to nor wanting to.

“I… I want to kiss you.”

It’s hard to ignore the way heat blooms across your cheeks, focussing on stuffing the note haphazardly in the drawer before you close it. Fingers resting, lingering on the metal seal as you swallow. “Didn’t realise my knowledge of books could be so endearing?”

He smiles, but it’s full of nerves.

Plastered to bring you some ease—you suppose—his hand lifting his cap a little higher. “Well, I’m not buying all these books because I’m still trying to keep my hands busy, Hermosa.”

“No?”

“No,” he whispers.

You don’t think. Your feet just begin moving, forcing you from behind the counter to the place beside him. You’re so close; you can see the way the last few spotlights over the counter are reflecting in his pupils—see the shadow of yourself in his darkening eyes.

It’s your turn to be nervous, for trembling fingers to tease the edge of his open shirt, bristling under his gaze as you slowly lift your chin to—

You feel them, his lips.

Chapped, but yet still soft, warm. Feeling them slide against yours in well-versed movements as though this isn’t the first time the two of you have done this. Something mushrooms in your chest expands out as you slide your tongue to taste it, lick it all away—all the nerves, the built-up anxiety. The two of you settle, falling into a steady rhythm that dances close to pent-up frustration.

At some point, his cap falls to the floor, your fingers woven in his peppered curls as your back presses into the wooden counter. He’s precise, cautious—not pressing you too intently, allowing you room to leave, but not enough to get the idea he doesn’t want this.

Doesn’t want you.

He does.

He shows it with his fingers, etching them across your hip. Hands, large and littered with callouses, wrap and pinch you over your clothes, telling stories you’re not listening to currently.

Briefly, between soft, muted moans, do you think about how they’d feel on your bare skin. How his fingers would feel curled inside you, those eyes searing into you as he whispers that you’re doing so well—just like he did when he first heard about you running the place yourself.

“Frankie…”

It escapes, the nickname.

The one he’s told you to use each time you call him Francisco. The one you think of when you’re alone, simmering and blistering on the tip of your tongue when your thin bed sheet covers your bare thighs.

Then, Frankie pulls back—something flooding you that isn’t relief, but rather disappointment.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean.…”

It trails off. Not sure what to apologise for, least of all when you don’t mean it. Swiping your tongue across your lower lip, tasting the mint of his gum and the coffee he’s tried to hide with it, loosening your fingers from his curls, dropping your arm until it hangs pointlessly beside you.

But he doesn’t let go.

Doesn’t step back. Thankfully.

He just stares in utter bewilderment like he’s in a dream rather than reality.

“I should have taken you for dinner.”

“What?”

He swallows, blinking—coming back to.

It happens more suddenly, him stepping back, scooping his cap from the ground and replacing it back like a crown upon his head.

He’s shy again—nervous. It radiates from him, flushing his cheeks more than the minute-ago make-out session the two of you just endured.

“I was—fuck, I was supposed to ask you to go out for dinner before….”

“Before?”

Tilting his head, his lips slope up into a cheek. “Before I groped you like some horny teen. You deserve better—more. You deserve more. A nice meal, a fucking conversation and….”

“I like pizza.”

He pauses, blinking. “Y-yeah?”

Nodding, you smile. Rolling your lips until you’re biting down, unsure—suddenly shifting on the spot. “I can… I know a place—they deliver. We can, can just hang here or go upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

It grows into a grin, the smile you’d been trying to hold back. “Yeah, I live above the shop, Frankie.”

And he’s in front of you again, resuming the minimal space the two of you had before. Both of his hands cup your cheeks, thumb brushing the skin—eyes burning into yours, no longer bubbling with nervousness.

“Say it again.”

“Wha—“

“My name. Please, Hermosa.”

Tilting your face ever so slightly, you lick your lips—his eyes watching how the tip of it does so. “Frankie.”

He groans, low—guttural, almost swallowed back but somehow escaping—before, in one swift movement, his lips are married back to yours. It’s different, more confident—dizzyingly so.

Your legs wobbling a little as the counter managed to support you, every other sense tuning into him and just him. Almost demanded so, by him.

His teeth nip, pressing against you as you feel how hard he is against you, as one of his hands drops to your waist. Almost tempted to slide your hand over the zipper, to squeeze—to tease him even further—

“Ah, man, it’s closed.”

The two of you pause, freezing.

Eyes both glancing through one of the shelves at the door, the person hovering, waiting—as though expecting the shop to suddenly open as they arrived. You will them to leave, eyes clenching, until you slowly open one, then the other.

Frankie doesn’t turn back at first, not until it’s truly silent—the two of you alone again. But, you remain cupping his cheek, the other on his arm—fingers barely fitting around his bicep that flexes as he turns his head.

You can hear it, your heart pounding—worsening when his eyes lock with yours, dancing from one to the other.

“I—“

“Do you want me to show you upstairs?”

His hand slides from your waist, scratching the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t….”

“Oh. Yeah, okay, I get it—“

“I don’t want to just… fuck you, Hermosa.”

Your lips clamp shut, throat tightening as you take a struggled breath.

“You hear me? I want—“

“You want pizza, a tour and then….” you whisper, so soft it barely greets the air, watching him fill in the dots, the blanks.

His cheeks flush, eyes narrowing before widening, making you smile wickedly.

an: this was my first ever time writing for him, so pls be nice and lovely and kind. k thanks.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #frankie morales triple frontier

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famemonsterrr · 10 months

Text

Astrology observations part 6. 🪽

- siblings were their signs are in the same element tend to be closer because of their same nature ( a friend of mine is a Sagittarius and her little sister is Aries and I haven’t seen these two arguing or being awful to each other EVER in fact they support and love each other sooo much)

- water placements do everything with music. Study, cleaning ect

- air placements need to watch something while they eat

- earth placements need a lot of silence.

- fire placements need a lot of excitement and adrenaline.

- speaking of music…go and see a playlist of pisces, Gemini, Aquarius and Sagittarius. They listen to EVERYTHING. ( my Spotify wrapped had my 5 top artist being different from each other because I can’t listen to one genre it’s sooo boring).

- again speaking of music…earth placements are the least experimental with their taste in music. They have found what works for them and they stick with it forever. (my Capricorn bestie listen to 3 genres my cancer sun bestie who has Virgo placements listens only to limited stuff and doesn’t know almost all of the iconic artists)

- Aries moon as kids they were getting angry for the most unnecessary reasons. It’s a fire moon thingy 💅🏻

- Sagittarius moon act like everything is fine and then cry behind close doors. Babes don’t be shy I promise u we will not laugh at u. 💀

Speaking of Sagittarius. They don’t open their hearts unless they know they will not be judged or make fun of. Deep down are really sensitive but they laugh it off because being honest and vulnerable is for the pussies right? (Women are more open with their emotions)

- Pisces has strong and weak memory at the same time. These bitches remember useless things or things that happened years ago but can’t remember a simple thing that was said 2 mins ago or even names that was said the very same moments.

- I have noticed cancer placements aren’t sentimental at all ( my cancer bestie throws away things and my mom who has cancer mercury doesn’t like to keep nothing unless it’s really important). On the other hand me as I Pisces love to keep everything to remember everything. ( i ain’t kidding but I have keeps every bottle of perfume I have bought or even broken stuff just because someone gave it to me. it really breaks my when I have to throw something away). Scorpio is the middle ground.

- I have seen cancers either having a lot of friends or just 2.

- Aquarius woman are always sooo likeable. I haven’t found one that i don’t like. They are just here vibing and doing their thing. Also they look younger than they are. Especially risings. (My bestie has Aquarius rising and looks underage when she is adult)

- Sagittarius placements if they reallyyyyy loooove u they care about ur opinion. Usually they don’t give a shit about opinions. (My ex boyfriend was like that he was asking me for everything. He wanted to hear my thoughts and opinions. That’s was really sweet and also was doing anything I told him would look on him.)

- I want to know what’s makes a Leo man dressing so flashy? Okay we support girly pops 💅🏻

- Capricorn men have the energy " I have big dick " metaphorically and literally but they will not flex it like a Leo or Aries would.

- Libra women tend to like men who are "uglier" than them.

- Scorpio placements know how to respect boundaries because they don’t like people crossing theirs.

- the water sign who tends to share a lot is Pisces the least of Scorpio

- the earth sign who tends to share a lot is Virgo the least is Taurus

- the fire sign who tends to share a lot is Sagittarius the least is Leo

- the air sign who tends to share a lot is libra the least is Aquarius.

- it’s very funny but as a Pisces with 8th house placements I can stay strong in very difficult situations and see the positive in bad but if someone break my mug or throws away a small thing of mine this is where I cross the line and start crying. Pliz fellow fishes tell me I ain’t the one🫣

- we need to talk about the fact when Virgo placements are in distress they will start cleaning the whole house. Like okay miss clean girly…maybe cry and let the cleaning for later. This coping mechanism is stressful. I want to hug y’all 😭

- I have noticed that Gemini writing amazing essays. They are amazing writing thoughts and feelings down on paper.

- if a Pisces placements friend or Scorpio placements friend or anyone with 8th house/12th house placements tell you they don’t like someone or they think the vibes are weird. Always TRUST THEM. they know what they are talking about.

- speaking of water signs they are stronger that what we gave them credit for. They don’t escape like a lot of people say. They are strong and keep until the end. Unless someone has 12th house placements or Pisces rising. (Sorry but y’all so self destructive).

- Capricorn x Gemini friend duo is also really underrated. They vibe sooo well even tho they have different styles and approaches to life but what they manage to do is that they have a lot of intellectuality. Maybe they would not last long but definitely they will have a beautiful friendship.

- Leo’s care for the opinion of others even if they say they don’t. You know this attitude "I’m a baddie I don’t care what people think" it’s their fake it till you make it but they never make it.

- when u see a air placements and earth placements cry u know it’s very serious for them and they need support 🫶🏻 btw they aren’t touchy so just allow them to cry without judging them.

- libra moons have u healed the fear of being alone?

- put a Pisces or Sagittarius in chart and u will see a psychologist or a person who loves the human brain and behaviour.

- Aries people are the biggest cheerleaders and women have girls girl energy.

- what’s up with mutable signs getting stimulated by a thing and then get bored of it? Like girlyyy why? Where is ur dedication? probably not in the room.

- Virgo men are sooooo messyyy…and rarely take care of their looks or their personal spaces ( I have sooo many examples)

- Pisces is disorganised in everything and it’s almost hilarious until they lose their things and then blame others.

- i will tell this 100 times if it’s needed but if u need help with ANYTHING go to a Capricorn friend. Even just an advice is really helpful. I love y’all sooo muchhh 🫶🏻

- 5th house placements showcase someone who not only is creative but will definitely have a good relationship with kids or will have amazing relationships with their own kids.

- 0 degree placements are showing that you are like the sign it is on. ( I have mars in Taurus in 0 degrees and honestly I act like a Taurus sometimes. The way I care for aesthetics,smells and I’m soooo stubborn in my opinions. it’s sooooo annoying)

- the most hilarious thing is hearing Sagittarius saying they are logical and not control by emotions. ( yeah that was my ex like girly pop u were influenced by every emotion and boredom is one of them. He cried more than me in the span of 2 years. Like okay hahaha babe keep believing ur delusions)

That’s all 🪽

Guys thank u for reading so far and giving a lot of support. I’m soo greatful every single time 🥰 stay healthy and hydrate girly pops 💅🏻

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #water signs #air signs #earth signs #fire signs #natal chart

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mysticmellowlove · 4 months

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Thinking about a really tall (like 6’3-6’4) yandere who is like slender muscle and who gives off “Look at us the wrong way and I’ll snap your neck” vibes but in reality he is just a little thing for us. A big little thing. Like, he can lift almost anything and do anything but he just wants us to caress him and tell him what a pretty boy he is and how we love him. Sitting on his lap caressing his pretty face saying we’ll be together for eternity. He wants to be manhandled at the same time, spank him, tell him his mommy owns him and peg him. Use his thick long pretty pink cock however you please but just please touch and love him. Take him on walks and pet him and he should be ok.

note; the Aussie in me really comes out whenever i write mommy kink because i can't for the life of me type 'mummy' and not cringe, it's gotta be the American spelling lol

warnings; sub male, yandere male, reader is called mommy, no gender tho, mommy kink, small pet play,

The smell of freshly brewed coffee swarmed your senses as you took another sip from the cappuccino in front of you. At your side was your boyfriend of three months. The relationship was pretty new yet you had a feeling that he didn't share the same sentiment.

Ever since you had first gotten with him he was always a little too close, a little too clingy, a little too knowledgeable. You took it in stride though and made sure to enjoy the strangely attentive man.

"Hey, you're with Build Co?" Your head turned casually as you zoned back into the real world. Standing there was an older man accompanied by what looked to be the standard younger and way more attractive assistant.

"Sure am, shall we start?" You smiled at the two as you slowly pet the thigh of your boyfriend.

"You did so good today, I'm proud of you." You cooed as you languidly stroked his cock. The ministrations were repetitive, up and down like a pendulum. He sat with his legs draped over your lap, his hands holding him up as he pressed them into the bedsheets.

He was like a big puppy, sometimes he was naughty and like today sometimes he was good. You knew that taking him to one of your appointments would be a little shaky, there was something about other people that seemed to set him off. However, he didn't even glare at the gentleman you were designing a house for!

He deserved something good for his efforts.

"T-thank you mommy." He stuttered as he fought to keep his hips still, not wanting to take away his prize by being greedy. You knew all he wanted to do was thrust upwards into your hand, it seemed as if today he just wanted to be on his best behaviour. You cooed as you continued to jerk him, your other hand going to pinch at his sensitive nipples.

He stood tall and strong, muscular and intimidating and yet he had the most sensitive body. Flick his nipples and he was keening, brush over his underwear and he had tears in his eyes. Such a needy boy and yet it was only for you. That rush of dominance was like nothing else, that high of knowing he would only bend over for you. And bend over he did, he tried to tempt you all the time after all.

But now he was being a good boy and good boys deserve rewards. He already had his collar around his neck, the leather slightly biting into his skin just how he liked it and you knew that the butt plug inside him was pressing deliciously into his prostrate as he sat on his ass with his cock before you.

"Please, can I be inside you?" He whispered, his eyes directed down at his weeping cock instead of your eyes. So shy and pliant, always wanting what's best for you. A hum left your mouth as you pretended to think about it for a moment.

"Why not? You've been so good to me haven't you, it would be cruel to leave my little puppy high and dry right?" A snide grin rose to your lips as his eyes lit up, a light sheen of sweat made his skin glisten.

"Come on then, make sure to fuck me good puppy." You grinned as you gave his dick one more tug before shuffling his legs off of you. After a long day of work getting to spend the night with your overly needy boyfriend was like a dream come true. Even better if he had his cock deep inside you as tears streamed down his face.

"Of course mommy, I promise. Always."

#love for anon #sub male #dom reader #ask #sub yandere #yandere male #gn reader

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stormgardenscurse · 11 months

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Scuse me! If possible, could I request the first years sneaking into a girls' sleepover that a female reader is attending, and they're disguised as girls? Please and thank you!

sleepover! — twst first years

Summary: First years sneak into a sleepover you're attending (other attendees are all girls). They’re just worried about you (and maybe were bored and thus made bad decisions), but maybe this time they bit off more than they could chew?

Characters: Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek

Note: I don’t specify the reader’s gender within the work. Due to the nature of the request it’s easily assumed that the reader is female—but really, you can imagine it as anything you’d like because I don’t use specific pronouns here!

Ace

No one’s sure who initiated this whole thing, but they can be sure that Ace was the most conflicted about this. On one hand, why was he going through so much trouble just to do something dumb and embarrass himself? On the other hand, they’ve heard… things from their classmates and senpais about how sleepovers can get sometimes, so of course they’re worried about you! (Read: said classmates and senpais talked about horror scenarios for the drama, not knowing they were applying it to a very real situation).

The moment Ace texted you to ask how long you’ve known those people, it was over for them all. How could you go to a sleepover with people you’ve only met like, twice?! Ace is swearing under his breath as he somehow finds himself at Sam’s shop, buying what looked like cosplay outfits and wigs, just to sneak in and make sure you’re fine.

…And maybe he’s doing this because a part of him is afraid you’ll ditch them for new friends, but no one has to know that. Ace covers this sentiment by talking—a lot—and being the one that makes excuses/fake stories while the girls at the sleepover ask them about themselves. Even making a remark about you and Ace, who they've identified (jokingly) as the type that's extroverted at first but only leans on a few friends:

“Despite loosening up now, Ace must not be used to large gatherings like these, huh? She keeps leaning toward you! I can tell you guys are close.”

He doesn’t do that normally, right…? Surely it’s because of nerves and how ridiculous this situation is. Yes, definitely.

Deuce

Deuce didn’t realize the obstacles of this plan until they all arrived at the sleepover; how does he blend in with girls - there’s no specific way, right? They’re just people— And then they start talking about their type in guys and Deuce can’t help but turn red at the idea that somehow, his thoughts just float to you.

He’s admittedly very interested in what answer you’d give (and a little hopeful that it gives him a little guidance in… Uh, nevermind.) And then it’s his turn, and somehow Deuce just blanks out and says that he’d like someone like you—not explicitly, but he ends up describing your traits and only notices later, when Ace’s answer is instead just flippant, that ‘oh, mine was too specific.’

The other girls there assign Deuce with the ‘sporty girl’ type of vibe, and while he’s flattered, he can’t help but get distracted by how your laughter catches him—it’s so clear and bright, Deuce wants to hear it again and again—but moments like these where you’re sparkling in his eyes are rare, and what Deuce doesn’t know is that it’s not your new friends that caused this, but just the memory of how the first years barged into the sleepover with a mission and ‘I’ve got you!’ written across their faces, despite how they’re completely out of their comfort zone.

Deuce in particular does look very cute in a high ponytail; it’d be a crime to not take some pictures together to commemorate the event. Just don’t show them to any of their senpais, alright?

Jack

Jack agreed to go in an attempt to make sure the others don’t end up doing something that derails the entire night for you - he’s pretty sure you could take care of yourself and know what you’re doing, but boys will be boys… And the last thing he’d want is for their sneaking-in to ruin the sleepover.

The long hair and crossdressing outfit is a little uncomfortable though. When you offer to help Jack tie his hair up, he doesn’t know why he starts to feel embarrassed at how your hands brush against the back of his neck, murmuring a little thanks to you.

He doesn’t talk much during the evening because of his voice, but Jack’s quite relieved at how smoothly the sleepover goes. He just doesn’t want to become a liability (you shouldn’t need to worry, just enjoy yourself!), so when he’s asked about his hobbies or interests, Jack answers that he likes to cultivate cacti.

There’s no reason to lie about such a thing, after all - but it surprises him when the other girls ask you if that’s why you wanted to take a detour to a flower shop the other day to get a beginner’s plant.

Unbeknownst to them, you’d actually wanted to try taking care of one and then gift it to Jack later on... So you improvise, saying that yes! It was Jack’s influence that made you want to try it out (still the truth, but without the detail of you wanting to offer it to him along with a proper confession… Maybe you'll need to rehash you plans to be more romantic.)

Epel

Please don’t point out how he could just enter the sleepover and probably not even need a disguise—Epel still had to apply makeup and dress up to blend in! Honestly speaking this idea seemed entirely ridiculous to him, but he got so caught up in the others’ determination and energy that he ended up here too.

Epel isn’t too happy about how you obviously find him cute in this getup, but he’s relieved from the pretense of acting like a shy, soft-spoken girl when you bring up that he really likes magic wheels!

“Epel looks so cool whenever she goes on a joyride, and she plays Magift too!”

“Really?! I never would’ve guessed! Now I’m starting to admire her too... I wish I could do all those things.”

…Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad. Aside from pretending he’s a girl, Epel’s glad that the people here are really open-minded about hobbies. He even ends up agreeing to race one of them someday (they’re from another magic school, and one of the girls are quite good at flying).

Despite somehow becoming a favorite of the night, Epel doesn’t let you feel left out! He’s here for you first and foremost, and to him, you’re the main character of the day.

…Also, he wants you to be with him whenever he does show off how cool he is. Wowing everyone else fills him with pride, but there’s something he chases after in the way you smile at him - supportive and lingering with amusement at the inside jokes you share.

Sebek

To be honest, the fact that he agreed to do this in itself is really sweet—Sebek found the idea of joining the sleepover ridiculous, until the other guys started appealing about "what if the prefect ends up not enjoying it?” “What if they need our help?”

Ahem. While Sebek isn’t as worried about your socialization skills, he does worry a bit at the idea that you’re going to someone’s house when you haven’t known them for long. So for the sake of your safety (read: his peace of mind), Sebek agrees to go. Just to check on you and leave.

And then two hours pass and suddenly he’s sitting next to you at the sleepover, in what is honestly an embarrassing disguise (who decided to give him that fake bra?!), and trying not to lose his composure while he answers questions from conversation.

Despite all this though, Sebek does conduct himself with poise and the careful way he’s speaking (trying very hard not to be too loud, and really just sitting straight because it’s good practice plus he’s kinda nervous right now. Are girls always this touchy with each other? He can handle some pushing around, but you’re sitting awfully close to him right now!)

The question of celebrity crushes does appear though, and of course Sebek confidently replies that Malleus is the only right answer (slowly convincing some of the girls of Malleus’ appeal when he rambles about the prince) - but at the end of the day, he’s acutely paying attention to you and responds before you even have to ask for things; asking for the snack bowl and letting you take some before he does, placing a blanket over your shoulder when it starts to get cold—it’s cute when he doesn’t expect you to offer the same comforts to him, sharing the blanket and leaning against one-another while a movie plays on the TV.

#i was going to add ortho too (platonic) but it got too long haha #thank you for requesting/reading!#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst writing #twst x you #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst reader insert #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #storm writings

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