#i told my friend i wanted to draw her sad because i always draw her happy and she said when was the last time you drew her happy

[kiwisbell]

helen ; chapter five

be seeing you

Si vis pacem, para bellum. Or, the choice.

series masterlist | my masterlist pairing: joel miller x f!reader tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), john wick AU, hitman!joel, husband!joel, established relationship, artist!reader, love as worship, sacrilege in the name of romance, flashbacks, graphic violence, guns, blood + injuries, tess cameo, childhood/religious trauma, criminal underworld, secrecy/lies, betrayal, ANGST, bamf miller bros, smut, fingering, joel is an emotional munch, shower sex, unprotected PIV, handjob, male whimpering, conflicting emotions, orgasms aplenty, Big Angst and Big Sad but also Big Epiphanies, ambiguous ending, i'm getting emotional writing these tags, it feels so final, the typical alcohol/smoking/profanity, dividers by @/saradika word count: ~ 9.3k a/n: hi, friends. i can't believe we're already at the end of the main story, and tbh if i think about it too much i'll probably cry. i want to thank @cavillscurls for beta reading this chapter as always and giving me the guidance and support i need. we'll have an epilogue after this chapter, so there's still more to look forward to, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy and thank you so so much for reading. xoxo prev | next

Her eyes are so sad, you think, stepping back to take in the full scope of the canvas. It’s doused in paint from corner to corner, still wet to the touch, the woman and her lover intertwined so thoroughly that it’s difficult to tell where they both end. It’s in shades of glum blue and flecks of angry red and brown where his eye watches you. But it’s her eyes that cannot lift to meet yours. It’s her lashes that fan across her cheeks as she casts her gaze toward the bottom edge where the canvas is wrapped taut around the wood. 

The sun will soon rise, but you haven’t slept. The contours of the sky are washed in a haze of greys and pale blues and light pink and the air smells warm, heavy—a storm about to roll in. The clouds on the horizon are thick with a blackening rage. You sit in the alcove by the window and put your temple to the cool glass. You yawn. Joel does not come back.

“Do you think it's true,” you asked him one night, your head on his chest, hand on his heart, “that art makes nothing happen?”

Joel, drawing shapes on your back, dozing off in the golden light of the sunrise, frowned. “Someone tell you that?”

“It's something my art teacher used to say,” you told him. “No matter how much it moves people, it doesn't do anything.”

“Your art teacher sounds like a fuckin’ downer.”

You laughed, hiking your thigh up over his hip and playfully biting his jaw. “So it's bullshit?”

“I think,” said Joel, tucking his chin to kiss the top of your head, “that your art makes people feel. It brings ‘em together. It's important because it's yours.”

You propped your head up on his chest and threaded your fingers through his too-long hair, overdue for a trim. A curl draped over his forehead, his beard patchy and soft under the pads of your fingers. “Sometimes I wonder why you chose me,” you said. “I wonder why the universe brought you to me.”

Joel shook his head, guiding his rough, callused fingers up your arm, curling them around your wrist, gently prodding your veins. “Wasn't the universe,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t a choice. I was yours the second I saw you. So, I guess it's your fault.”

You just rolled your eyes and kissed him, mouth to smiling mouth. 

Your paintings may be yours, made with life and energy and colour, but when they are finished, they don’t move. They are stagnant as a heavy rock beneath a cliffside, washed over and over again by the cresting waves, its salt stolen for the water, eternal damnation to a fate of non-movement. And sometimes an artist will walk under the cliff, shove their easel into the fleshy ground the way a man erects his country’s flag in the earth he has stolen, and paint the rock. The artist is moved by the breathtaking colours of the shore and the way the wind flutters through the grass. But the rock does not budge. It never will. 

Your art will never erupt from the boundaries of the canvas and tell you what it means. The lovers in your painting will not tear open their mouths like the seams holding a wound together. They will not tell you what they want, need, crave. They are you, and that is what you hate—because dimpled flesh and lustful fingers and the press of his mouth to her throat cannot tell you what you’re supposed to do. 

You had become complacent in his love for you. You had let him press his worn hands to your body and pull your soul out through his mouth and you had been a wife, while all the time there was a stranger who occupied his heart, a spirit in an abandoned body. All the time, he'd been haunted. And although you had loved him, your love had not been enough to exorcise the guilt and trauma, pecking at him, an eagle at his liver. 

Crossing the room and sitting back down in front of the easel, you press your fingers to the corner of the canvas. The paint is cool to the touch, and you leave behind fingerprints where your signature should be. Pulling your hand back, you examine the accumulation of colour, the blues and reds swirling into the deep purple of a bruise, the bodies on a canvas that may only ever mean something to you, and you wonder, Is this all I am? A cautionary tale, a love lost? A fucking footnote at the end of a clause that reads: “See, for example, the one who never loved deeply enough to make it count”?

You bring your hand to your face to wipe away the tears beneath your eyes and blink hard at the sting, realising you’ve smeared paint across your cheekbones. 

In the bathroom, you scrub furiously, the cloying scent of it clinging to your throat and your tear ducts, washing away the evidence of their entwined bodies, their love, your pain. 

Once, you tried to get Joel to paint. You sat behind him on your bench, your legs bracketing his hips, your paintbrush in his hand. 

“I don’t know where to start,” he said.

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear as you spoke. “There’s no rulebook.”

He tried to turn his head and kiss you, but you nipped his ear in reproach. “Remember when you took me out driving at the airstrip because you wanted me to feel the road? Think of this like feeling the canvas. Go on, cowboy. Make nothing happen.”

Joel’s painting still hangs over your shared bed. The intruders never found it, or never cared enough to destroy it. It’s a candle, just a candle, its lines imprecise, the paint unevenly applied in places, the shine of the flame more orange than yellow. But it’s a painting, so the candle always burns. He titled it Love. 

The pain still sits low in your chest, pulling down your heart as if tied to it by a string. But Joel is still out there, fighting his way back to you, the way he always has, always will. You look down at your left hand, clutching the edge of the marble vanity, and decide to clean your wedding ring. 

“I’m sorry, brother,” says Tommy, turning the gun on Joel. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” growls Joel, struggling against his bonds. The clip rattles faintly in his brother’s hand as a tremor courses through him. 

“He’s following my orders,” says Cabrera, clapping his hand down on Tommy’s shoulder. “Fascinating what a man will do when he must consider his family’s well-being.”

Joel sucks on his teeth, his eyes not once leaving his brother. 

“It's my son,” Tommy says through his teeth. “It's Maria. If I don't do this—”

“Yeah? You gonna kill me, Tommy? Is that why your hand’s shakin’?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” his brother snaps. “You think I want to do this? I gotta save my family, Joel. You know what that's like.”

“All I’ve done for you,” says Joel, his hands curling into fists behind his back, “and you put a bullet in my head?”

“Not just your head, Joel,” says Cabrera. “When we're done with you, we’ll take your pretty girl as payment for my son’s life.”

Joel growls like a dog, blood roaring in his ears. “Kill me yourself, you goddamned coward. Kill me yourself and don’t you mention my wife again, or I swear to Christ—”

“You take His name in vain a lot for a nonbeliever,” says Cabrera, pulling his sleeves through his coat and setting his teeth as he looks toward Tommy once more. “Do it.”

“Yeah, brother,” Joel says darkly, “do it.”

Tommy nods once, planting his foot and pivoting. Five distinct sounds of handguns cocking echo throughout the warehouse as Tommy points the barrel between Manuel Cabrera’s eyes.

“Now that I’ve got a gun to your head,” he says evenly, “you can go ahead and pull that contract.”

Joel at last twists his wrists free of the ropes that bind them and shucks down the sleeves of his jacket to rub the raw skin. Not one soul does a goddamn thing to stop him as he rises to his feet. His chest heaves, his open lungs coarse and wet with a brittle rage, his exposed heart throbbing red, transparent as the stained glass windows of the church.

God does not tolerate anger, said the Sisters, again and again, bringing down the whip across his back. Sinew and bone and skin peeling back to lay bare some tender part of him they sought to rot out. Put your energy into His worship.

Slowly, Cabrera lifts his hands, sneering. “Your wife,” he warns, “and your unborn son—”

“Are family,” says Tommy. “Just like my brother. Now tell your guys to put down their guns and I won't kill you where you stand.”

Joel joins Tommy at his side. “Took you long enough,” he says under his breath. 

“Got held up,” he says. “Your wife’s a good artist.”

“Yeah, whatever. You bring me a gun?”

“I’m sure you can find one yourself.”

“Jesus, Tommy. I’m too old for this.” Joel turns to Cabrera and glares at the same stubborn arrogance that once gleamed in his son’s eye. “You pull the contract, and I’ll leave for good.”

Cabrera’s laugh weans out in the air like rings of smoke. “You think you can really leave, Joel? You think that there won't be consequences for what you've done to my son?”

“Yeah,” says Joel, “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“And you?” Cabrera’s lip curls up at Tommy, whose gun no longer wavers in his grasp. “I promised your wife and child security. You’re willing to throw that away?”

“My wife and child are safe because I don’t take deals from men like you,” says Tommy. “You trusted a Miller to turn on his own blood, Manuel. That was stupid. Now pull the contract.”

“So this is your great suicide mission.” Cabrera smiles, a man who knows he has lost or a man who still expects not to. “A man who has seen Hell does not willingly descend back into its depths—not unless he likes the taste.”

Joel feels the corner of his mouth twitch, a wound on his cheek reopening. “Maybe I do,” he says plainly. “Maybe it’ll taste even better when I take you down with me.”

The gleam in Cabrera’s eye shifts as his gaze flickers behind Tommy. Night has since descended, and yet the predator’s eye glints in anticipation of the hunt. Joel turns and shoves his brother out of the way—just as the shot rings out. 

He hears Tommy’s breath punch out of him as they both hit the concrete hard. Joel tears the handgun from his brother’s grasp and puts a bullet between each of the two men behind them. He rolls behind one of the hulking bodies and holds up his weight as a shield against the incoming bullets. Tommy takes the dead man’s gun and fires at the remaining three assailants. Only one shot misses, but Joel sends his brother a look anyway and finishes the job. 

“Rusty,” grunts Tommy, pushing himself to his feet. 

Joel grimaces as he accepts his brother’s outstretched hand, his wrists bleeding from the relentless rub of the ropes. “He ran,” he says, grinding his teeth. “Goddamn coward. Just like his son.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome, by the way,” says Tommy, giving Joel the dead man’s gun and snatching back his own. “Saved your ass.”

“And he got away.” Joel kicks his chair, and the clattering echo of metal reverberates like a choir off the cavernous walls. His hands flex, open, closed, open, closed, until they make tight fists and he can see nothing but red and the silver moon mocking him through the broken windows high above. 

“Joel…”

For a moment, he hears the young boy his brother once was, whispering across their shared bedroom to him in the middle of the night when they were both meant to be asleep. 

Joel… Are we going to be okay?

“I gotta finish it, Tommy,” he says quietly, his hands shaking loose. Parts of him bite and sting, touched by new and old wounds alike, and he wants to come crawling home to you. He wants to curl into your side and wash away the blood in your cleansing pool, daisy and honeysuckle, some faraway field where you are the warden, where he knocks on the door to be let in, to be gathered, covered in white, buried, unearthed. 

“Was he right?” asks Tommy. “Do you… enjoy this?”

Joel casts his eyes toward the ground, his trembling hand, the gleaming band on his ring finger, his skin speckled with blood but the metal pristine. “I don’t know,” he says. 

This is who you are, Cabrera would tell him. The Sisters: Your place is here, under God, under His word. And God Himself, silent as the air, the ringing in his ears only ever quieted by the soft brush of your knuckle across his cheek, the whisper of My Joel in his ear. 

“Think hard on it,” says Tommy, “because you may like it, but you’ve gotta consider if your revenge is worth more than what you’ve already got. And if you choose wrong, Joel, you’re gonna lose no matter what.”

A figure leans stone-still against the wall by the hotel room door, the gleam of a blade in the soft light the only indication that it is not a mere shadow. 

“Hey, kid,” says the apparition. 

Joel nods in greeting. “Tess. Could get in trouble with that knife out in the open.”

“You expect me to keep your girl safe with just my fists?”

“You make it sound like you couldn’t.” Tess snorts, and Joel places fifteen gold coins in her waiting palm. “I appreciate you doing this.”

Tess peels away from the wall. “You and your brother are paying me good money to babysit a door. I think I can live without the thanks.”

“Still,” he says, “you did us a solid.”

Tess, who itches at the prospect of gratitude as much as any other gun-for-hire, shrugs. “Everyone’s saying you’re coming back. That true?”

“Just visiting,” says Joel. “On my way out soon.”

Tess flips one of the coins and turns it over and over across her knuckles, evidence of a restless energy that’s always made Joel’s eye twitch. “One way or another, huh?” she says.

“One way or another.” He shakes her hand and watches her retreat down the hall, still twirling the godforsaken coin, before he turns toward the door. Joel presses his forehead briefly to the cool wood and turns the key to seek the field that awaits him.

A key rustles in the door and Joel steps through, closing it gently behind him. Judging by the quiet click of the lock, he expects you to be asleep, but you jolt upright from your seat in the alcove and cross the room toward him.

He meets you halfway, his right hand flexing at his side. You inspect him: the gash on his cheek, the bruise on his jaw, the blood splattered on his white shirt. He makes no footfalls as he walks but you can hear every stride like thunder between your ears. You feel his hand at the back of your neck, cool from the night air, rough as the underside of a shark’s belly.

The moment coils taut between you as your hand reaches up to grab the lapel of his jacket, and he smells of iron, cologne, Joel, some paint. Maybe that smell is you, stuck underneath your fingernails, embedded in your blood. Maybe this is a mistake, maybe you could never help but fall, maybe it never mattered anyway, and you’re already snipping the final thread, unwinding the spool, and kissing Joel Miller like it’s the first time. 

He let out a small groan, tasting the first drop of water in a drought, steadying you with his arm around your waist, his hand cradling your head. He’s gentle, exploratory, careful not to jostle, to shock you out of it. You feel his heartbeat thud, strong, calm, steady behind his clothing and skin and muscle, and your body caves.

It’s coming home, you realise, your arms snaking around his neck, fingers tousling the messy curls on his head. It's the warm press of his hand to your spine where it begins to curve inward. It's a soft mouth, a plush lower lip, made for slow mornings and black coffee, for the aching release of a thumb pressing deep into a muscle knot, a wound. Old aches soothed in the space where bodies meet, beginning to colour the slate-grey world. 

It’s the exchange of gasping breaths when you pull apart, his mouth still vaguely chasing yours, opposite charge. 

You hold him tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat, your hands squeezing his shoulders. "Are you…"

Joel inclines his head. "Yeah."

"Did he..."

"Yeah."

Need pulses. Supernova. Bright as the moment of obliteration. "Can you—"

He nods vigorously. "Yeah."

Joel’s kisses are like raindrops: velvet-soft to the touch—his hands bringing the hem of your shirt up over your head, his fingertips scorching, branding, grazing the supple swells of your breasts—before the crescendo roars in your ears and he loses himself to the storm. He always does. 

There is nothing reserved about the way he shows his love. Lightning crackles across your skin where he touches you, baring you to him, his lips making a map of you, mouthing at your jaw, your throat. You hear yourself hum at the press of his lips to the spot beneath your ear, detaching from your own body, absconding with the pleasure of being close to him and leaving the fucking world behind. 

Joel staggers forward so he can press you to the wall and begins to sink to his knees. Your breath catches as he pulls down your ratty bottoms, your cotton panties, his mouth burning into your hips and your belly and the ring on your finger. 

“Joel,” you say brokenly as he clutches your fingers. Tears prickle, pressure building behind your nose, and he shakes his head, unfurling your palm like a bud in bloom and kissing its heel. Wordlessly, you watch him, your eyes shuttering, blood singing. 

Don't hurt me again. 

He understands even though the words cannot come alive on your tongue. He squeezes your hips, his thumbs dumpling your flesh, his forehead falling to your belly. 

“I’m yours,” he says. “I’m whatever you want.”

Your legs haven't forgotten the way they part so easily for him, one thigh on his shoulder, opening the core of you to his waiting mouth. His lips part, his tongue wetting them, glistening, and your stomach tightens at the sight of his eyes so black. 

You could easily cower. His hands are stained with blood. His knuckles are split. But your terror has become an arid thing, no kindling to burn, no oil to ignite. Watching him now, as eager to please as he always has been or maybe more so, on his knees like a supplicant, the hairs on your arms do not rise in apprehension. Your body does not squirm in fear. You see a broad horizon, the sun outside spilling its golden blood over the city, and you see all of him in a way you never did before. 

He’s Joel, who grew up in darkness, lashed and beaten for not believing in a false god. He’s a man who has lied and killed and yet he is no liar, no killer. He holds you as he always has, your body liquid in his hands, your mouth proclaiming the word he will follow. You're the truth he's always told. 

It still unsettles you to see the dark eclipse that warm brown, to watch his desire consume the hypnotic shapes in his irises, and wonder if that cavernous black was the last thing so many men saw before he snuffed out their lives. But there's nothing of the death shudder in the way you guide your fingers through his hair and beg him—

“Please.”

He brings his mouth to your core and parts your folds with his thumbs, slowly gliding his warm, wet tongue through your slit. You die a hundred little deaths in the split-second of that first touch, that first agony.

You sigh, your head thudding against the wall as he licks through you, his hands holding your hips in place, keeping you from writhing. Joel flicks his tongue over the sensitive pearl of your clit, the pleasure searing, and you tug at his curls to push him away even as you cry out, More, please, please. God, I need more.

He obeys you as easily as breathing, though you suspect he can barely hear your pleas, opening his mouth and flattening his hot tongue to your clit. You gasp, your core pulling taut, your eyes locking with his as the muscle undulates over, over, and over again. 

“Oh,” you whimper, your hips bucking to meet his face. He groans, his mouth working your clit, closing his lips over it and sucking. You cry out, your leg kicking, the sounds of the world muffled in his stifling closeness. Your thighs begin to ache, tensing and relaxing a hundred times over in the throes of his attention. 

And his fingers are gliding across your hip, seeking the warmth between your legs. You gasp his name, your hips flexing, as he collects your wetness on two fingers. 

“Let me in, baby,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit. It relaxes you enough to welcome the press of his fingers inside you, sinking to the knuckle, curling up against the spot he would know in his sleep. 

You whine, your body keening toward him, tugging his face back toward your pussy. He obliges with a quiet moan, and you think he needs this just as badly. 

The obscene squelch of his fingers inside you rings in your ears as he licks and sucks at your clit, his free hand grabbing desperately at your ass to keep you fixed to him. You’re crying, “Yesyesyes, Joel, please—fuck, that's it,” the pleasure stuck in the grooves of your brain. Absentmindedly, you reach for his hand and clasp it tight, your engagement ring digging into his palm. He holds you with the same fervour as he coaxes you higher, his face buried in your pussy. He grunts and groans like it's his own pleasure he seeks, his battered knuckles stinging. 

“Joel… Joel, oh, I’m…”

He knows, of course, from the telltale squeeze of your thighs around his head, the relentless crushing of his fingers in your own, your body tightening for him, cavitating, unwinding—

You come with a shout, your throat raw, writhing in his grasp as he keeps sucking, keeps licking, rubbing, pressing. You're dizzy by the time your head lolls to the side, your muscles twitching, eyes glazed, and Joel is there, pulling his fingers out just to place them on his tongue and swallow you down. 

Your breath rattles through your lungs. Joel presses his lips to your inner thigh, beard soaked in your arousal, moustache glistening. His mouth soothes your sore muscles and your eyes begin to droop. 

“You need a shower,” you say, your tongue like lead in your mouth. You gently pass your thumb over a cut on his cheek and frown. “You're all bloody.”

He nuzzles his face against your thigh, inhaling you. “I know.”

“You were gone so long.” Your voice quivers, pressure prickling behind the bridge of your nose. “I thought…”

Joel rises to his feet, his hands cradling your face. “I’m all right,” he says. “I’m here, and I’m safe, and I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You shake your head, pressing your lips together so the sob will not escape. Tracing his face with your fingers, broken in places, healing in others, you see the echo of a boy who didn't know his place in the world. You see the haunt of days gone by. A ghost still occupies the cage of his ribs. 

“I think you should tell the little boy that still lives here,” you say, putting your hand on his chest. “Tell him he’s alive. Tell him that he made it.”

Joel lowers his head, watching the way your fingers splay over his heart. He puts his hand on yours and pushes, and you feel the strong thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat. 

“He knows.”

You lean forward and put your mouth to his temple. “Shower, Joel,” comes your whisper in his ear. 

He nods, wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you into the bathroom. The water hits you both true, scalding, the drain circled with red. He’s naked, his back to you as he sets his hair and lets his wounds bleed what they need to. 

You lift your hands and trail them down his broad shoulders, your forehead dropping between his shoulder blades where your name is inked into his back. Joel’s muscles idly flex, his palm flat against the shower wall. His body shudders when you press your lips to the name on his back. 

Wordlessly, you bring your arms around him, caressing his side, careful of the new bruises. Your other hand drops to his steel-hard cock and you begin to slowly stroke him. The noise that wrenches free from his throat is half pleasure, half agony, his hips bucking into your fist. You bump your nose against his back, your years-old sign to Just relax, and Joel hides his face in his bicep as you work your hand over him.

“G—fuck,” he grunts. “Goddamn… honey, I—”

You squeeze him at the base and twist your hand up and down the length of him, the weight warm and heavy, your thumb coaxing out a bead of precum. Your cheek is warm on his back, your arm struggling to reach around the width of him, your chest humming at the sound of his gruff moans. 

“Let me…” He cuts himself off as you speed up your strokes, and you can feel his abdomen tense. “Fuck, let me make you feel good. Shit… let me…”

“Joel,” you say, “for once, stop trying to be my hero.”

His head falls back and you press your lips to his throat, nibbling the sensitive spot behind his ear: the old scar, that tiny circle, that hairless patch. He groans your name, and you’re smiling despite yourself, your mouth curling against his warm, tender skin. 

“Inside me,” you whisper, the pace of your fingers over his length slowing to a crawl. “Remind me how it feels.”

He turns his head to look into your eyes, his lashes dewy, blinking hard to flick away the water, brow furrowed. His moustache bristles as his lips part in a question he does not (or maybe cannot) articulate, and you’re fractured into pieces by the intricate curve of his nose, the freckles on his jaw, the silver strands in his beard. A rough hand cups the back of your neck and another takes you by the waist, and you’re flattened to the wall, your hand braced on the glass next to you as he kisses you deeply. 

Consuming, heady, warm—you give in, your hands avoiding the delicate skin of his wrists where he’s been bound, helpless. Sighing softly into his mouth, you let his kiss humble the part of you that still needs the walls you’ve built from the marrow of your anger. It circles the drain, lead-filled paint, as you remember under his hands how it feels to live.

You reach between your bodies, your leg wrapping around his waist, and slide the head of his cock through your weeping slit. Joel sucks in air through his teeth, the water lashing his back like a whip, and he surges forward, grasping you by the waist and sinking his cock into your tight hole. 

You cry out his name, burying your face in his throat and baring your teeth. Your name leaves his mouth in kind, an apparition, sounds you barely recognise anymore. As you take him inside you, the memory of who you were with him pounds at your ribcage, begging to be let out. And you covet them, selfish as you are now for fucking him this way, needy and impatient, your fingers tugging his wet locks. 

You see no point in scooping out the marrow; there is still sweetness stuck to the bones of your old life with him. Instead, you coat your teeth in this, the slow drag of his cock, the depths he reaches so easily, so knowingly. His fingers prod the bruised flesh of your hurt and yet you still guide him inside. You still pull his hair and kiss his throat where his Adam’s apple bobs and you still let him hold you close enough to splinter. 

He’s grabbing fistfuls of your ass and sucking on your throat, his thrusts sloppy as he tries to hold back, to make you come first, but you tighten, clenching down on him, making his groans pitch up into whines. 

“Joel,” you gasp, your needy fingers prickling his scalp where you pull his hair. His teeth graze your throat and you want him to bite, you want him to sink in deep, you want his jaws to latch onto your skin. You want him never to leave again. 

He comes hard. His hips buck, pushing so deep he disappears into your body, and you see the blues, browns, reds of your painting as he empties all he has left inside you. 

Panting, he drops his head to your breast, his open mouth still scattering weak, worn kisses over your skin. Your lungs expand under his palms, fingers stuck in the grooves between your ribs, his body an offshoot of yours, not the other way around. In the ringing afterlife of your pleasure, you vaguely feel him mouthing words you cannot hear. You run your fingers through his hair and enjoy the battering of the scorching water as it melts you both into one.

Later, in the sticky, humid silence of the bathroom, steam still swirling around your heads, fogging the glass, you trim Joel’s hair.

"Do you ever get scared?" you ask him, the shhhick of the scissors gliding across a chunk of his hair. "Do you ever go out on a job and think to yourself, What if I slip? What if this is it?"

Joel huffs. "It's not so much about myself as making sure the other guy goes down first."

“I think I’d be scared.” You twirl a lock of hair around your finger and let it fall over his forehead. “I don’t think I’d be able to look into someone’s eyes and take their life.”

He casts his eyes to his lap, flicking off some hair from his thigh. “One time, I thought it was over. I wasn’t quite seventeen yet, runnin’ drugs for some gangster. He sent me to El Sauzal to discreetly transport a couple kilos out of the city; someone had snitched and he didn’t want any rival gangs to find his stash. But the people there, they… They didn’t know any better. There were mothers, kids. Innocent people, y’know? Just strays. I decided I’d come back for ‘em.”

Your stomach twists. “What happened?”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I was too late. By the time I got back, the whole goddamn city was on fire. The people were either dead in the streets or close to it. They didn’t do anythin’ wrong. They didn’t ask for any of it. But they were weaker, slower. I couldn’t walk ten feet without seein’ some kid wrapped up his mother’s arms, burned to a fucking crisp. So, I came back with weapons, marched into the gang’s territory, and I killed ‘em all.”

Days ago, you’d be afraid of the man whose back warms your belly where you stand just behind him. You would hesitate to reach out and put your hand on his shoulder the way you do now. But you curl your fingers over the muscled curve of his arm and his head falls back against you, spidering open, his gooey molten centre bared for you.

Joel. Just Joel. 

“Did you see the painting?” you ask him quietly. 

“I see everything you do,” he says. “It's beautiful, baby.”

You drop your gaze from his face in the mirror and set down the scissors on the vanity. “I can't pretend to understand what you've been through, Joel, and that makes things even harder. All I've ever wanted is to love you, to take your pain, and all this time there's been so much I never even knew about. And I’m sorry.”

Joel’s hand comes to cover yours, clasping your fingers. They’re warm, rough, but you do not sense the phantom blood. “If I’d told you from the beginning,” he says, “maybe I never would've hurt you in the first place. All those years I thought I was protecting you from myself, I was hurting you—the one thing I swore I would never fuckin’ do.”

“Joel…”

“Baby, don't apologise to me,” he says firmly, putting his lips to your knuckles. “Never apologise to me. And don't you let me off easy.”

“Have I ever?” you say with a halfhearted smile. 

“Yeah,” he says, “the day you let me marry you.”

You scoff. “Oh, please. Wedding planning was hell on earth for you.”

“Just because I didn't like the photographer—”

“You didn't not like the photographer, Joel. You wanted to draw and quarter the photographer.” 

He huffs like an angry dog, frowning at you in the mirror. “He kept puttin’ his goddamn hands on you.”

You laugh, brushing your thumb over the patch in his beard to indicate you're finished. “He was posing us, cowboy.”

Joel rises to his feet and closes the scissors away inside the drawer. “Posin’ you, sure.”

“He was afraid to touch you. Probably thought you’d take off his hand. And the pictures turned out great.”

“Yeah,” he says, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Way the sunlight caught in your hair, your eyes… I don't know. Beautiful.”

He was so shy the first time you kissed him. Cheeks flushed, eyes cast toward the ground, the wind ruffling his curls where it blew over the water. He was made in an artist’s image, you thought that night, the details pored over like paperwork, the sparkle in his eyes something the painter covets. But the portrait has never wilted in the years you've known him. It's grown older, sure, but it is not old. He's still shy sometimes; he still looks down when he smiles, and he still turns his cheek when you tell him he's beautiful. 

“Do you…” He rubs his palms over his thighs, looking up at you through his lashes. “Do you wish you could go back?”

It's your turn to sit. You drop into his chair, your arms curling over the back of the seat, and watch him on his journey to his knees. “I don't know, Joel,” you tell him. “I think about that day and part of me wants the magic of it back. I want the breeze and the sun and the white canopy and I want you sliding this ring on my finger. But knowing what I know now…”

“You wouldn't have married me,” he says like it's the only answer. His eyes are wet and sad and they sparkle so bright in the day. 

“I wish I’d known,” you say plainly, bringing his hand to your cheek and resting it over the cool wedding band. “I wish you would have told me everything. I wish you didn't make me question your love, even for a second. I wish you could have spared me all this anger I have—all this pain.”

He’s stone-still, a figure in a portrait, and you brush your fingers across his cheek. “But killing isn't what you are, Joel. It’s what you do. And I’m so tired of being angry.”

You say it fiercely, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth, your throat tightening. You swipe your thumbs under your eyes and meet your husband’s eye. “I love you more than my anger and my hurt have room for. And if I can love you this hard, if I can feel all this pain and still be that same girl who fell for the guy from the restaurant, then I can let myself get hurt all over again.”

Joel shakes his head, cupping your face in his hands as his eyes brim with tears. “Oh, baby…” 

“I know it's never been an easy marriage,” you say, your voice breaking, “and I’m always travelling, and I know that I can get snippy and we bicker, but I wouldn't go back to that day, Joel, because I wouldn't change anything. Even if I have to feel all of this again, I wouldn't take it all back.”

His inhale shudders through him and your heart lurches out of your chest. “I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek, catching a tear that falls. “I’ve hurt you too much to ever be worthy of what you've given me, sweetheart. I ain't a good man, or even a decent one. But fuck, if I can be good for you, I’ll pray to whatever God they want me to. I’ll scrape my knees and put my hands together and fake it ‘til I’m someone you want. I swear it, baby.”

“Joel.” You gently pry his hands away. “The life you've lived, the things you've been through… I can't change any of it. I can't be what you need all the time, and fuck, I want to be. I do, Joel. But this life is something you have to figure out yourself. Nobody should force you to believe in something that's only ever caused you pain.”

He never told you about the tattoo; you had to find it yourself. Shucking the hem of his shirt up over his head, two weeks separating the last time you’d been able to indulge in his body, you trailed your fingers up his back and paused at the sound of him hissing through his teeth. 

“Easy, cowboy,” you cooed. “Are you all right?”

Wordlessly, he turned, taking your hand and lifting it to the reddish skin around the black ink. You gasped, your fingers jolting backward as if struck by a feeler of lightning. 

“Joel,” you said tremulously, “please don't tell me you were drunk and this was an impulse decision.”

“Guys in the Marines would get tattoos that meant somethin’ to them. Easier to carry around with you when you're away.” Joel met your gaze again, your tearful eyes, and brought your knuckles to his mouth. “Tell me you want it gone, and it's gone.”

You shook your head, a laugh snaking past the lump in your throat. “Selfishly, I think it’s very sexy.”

He chuckled, kissing the breath from your lungs. 

The memory is heavy in your stomach. It's something you'll have to roll around in your mouth a thousand times before the taste begins to dissolve. 

“I need time, Joel,” you tell him. “I need to wrap my head around things. I… I can't be the girl you want right now.”

Joel brushes his thumb over your chin. “You have always been the girl I want,” he says. “If you need time, you have it. If you need a warm body, you have it. I’m whoever you want me to be. And if it ain't a husband, then… then that's okay. But I can’t promise you that I won't stop tryin’ to get my wife back. That’s not who I am.”

You sniffle, twirling the ring on his finger. “You’ll get sick of it. The waiting.”

He smiles so softly that you can feel a bud begin to bloom in the core of you, nourished by the way he keeps his hand on your thigh, absently rubbing the sore muscles there.  “I waited my whole life for someone like you to come along—someone who could give me the purpose I’d been lookin’ for. I can wait another lifetime. I can wait a thousand.” 

“You’ll resent me. You’ll start to hate me.” You don't know why it comes pouring out of you, but the gates are brittle wood and they snapped in the torrent. “I’m an angry drunk. I smell like paint half the time. I travel for work.”

Joel just studies your face, some inexplicable calm etching out the agony. “You take your coffee with milk and sugar and you can't stand it black, but you make it that way for me anyway. You sleep until noon when you're jet lagged and I sit up in bed just to watch you dream. You lie in my arms on the couch at home and ask me about my day even when you're noddin’ off. You dreamed about love when you were a little girl, the way it happens in books. You told me in your wedding vows that you'd found it with me. You think I could resent a girl like that?”

He smiles like it hurts and heals all at once, like it's a foregone conclusion, like you were meant to be loved by him. 

“Time doesn't mean a goddamn thing. I know the girl I see in front of me now. Time won't change how much I love her.”

Flipping through the list of potential venues, Joel tucked into your side, you said, “We’ll have an outdoor ceremony. No churches.”

“Baby, I won't burst into flames if I step inside a church.” Joel playfully flicked his tongue over your nipple, obscured by his T-shirt. “Tommy, on the other hand… things he's done…”

You laughed, gently pushing at his head. “No churches,” you said again. “I don't care how much more we’ll have to pay or travel to get around it. You're my husband. You're my comfort, and I want to be what's comfortable for you. Understood?”

He looked up at you, his lips parted as if on the precipice of speech. You beamed, bringing his face to yours and kissing him deeply. 

“But if the wind knocks over the gazebo, you're not getting your dick inside me on our wedding night,” you said against his mouth. Joel shook his head, yanking you on top of him and tearing the shirt from your body. Your binder landed with a flutter of loose pages to the floor. 

“You didn't kill Cabrera.”

Joel lowers his eyes. “No. He got away.”

“So there's still a contract on your head.”

“For now.”

“So,” you say with a sigh, crossing the room and digging through your bag, “you have to go.”

“I have to go,” he echoes, following you like a shadow. “No matter what… I’m finishing it. Tonight.”

You pull the switchblade from your bag, open Joel’s fist, and place the cool wood hilt in his palm. 

“Goddammit, Tommy,” he says under his breath. “He shouldn't have…”

“But he did,” you say. “He said I should be the one to have it. I think it should be yours.”

He curls his fingers over the hilt and flicks open the blade. It's light, but it seems to weigh him down. You rest your hand over his. 

“Do what you need to do.”

He drops his forehead to yours and closes his eyes, soaking in this final breath exchanged between your silent bodies, dipping his fingers in the sanctified waters and coming out unscalded. 

Bill calls Joel not a moment after he steps onto the street outside the Continental. 

“That's a heavy price on your head.”

“Yeah, Bill, I know.” He breathes in the cool air, like cigarette smoke, his nostrils stinging. Trash and a new, fresh breeze carried into the city. Nothing that stays here ever thrives. “Stayed alive so far.”

“So I hear,” grunts the Manager, “and leaving behind a hell of a lot of cleanup.”

“I won't stick you with the check,” says Joel. “It's my business.”

“I don't conduct business inside this hotel,” says Bill, “which is why I won't tell you that a certain helicopter at a certain helipad is refuelling as we speak.”

Joel smirks, flicking out his cuff to check the time. “Any reason why you aren't tellin’ me this?”

“I like you, Joel. Despite myself.” 

Silent, he waits for more. 

“Besides,” Bill continues, “we live and die by honour. And you've saved my ass more than once.”

Joel snorts. “Which time are you thankin’ me for?”

“Just take my goddamn advice and leave this world. For good this time.”

“I will,” says Joel. “One way or another. Thanks, Bill.”

High above the ground, sitting in the alcove by the window, you watch storm clouds gather over the city, darkening the sky, the sun, and your Joel, so far away, slouching calmly toward whatever end he will choose. 

It's raining. 

The first time you kissed him, a downpour suddenly swept up the both of you and you'd scrambled underneath a bridge by the water. You both laughed until your ribs were sore, holding hands as you ran, a soaking wet playbill above each of your heads for cover. 

“At least the show was good,” you shouted over the roar of the rainfall. 

Joel was mesmerised into stillness by the colours of the traffic lights in your eyes, how they shifted over the planes of your face. Starting to think like an artist, you'd tease, and he'd lean into it, a planet circling its sun. 

“It was all right,” he said, taking the playbill from your hand. “You could catch a cold. We should get a cab.”

“Always my hero.” You grinned up at him, your eyes scanning his face in that particular way they did, as if ingesting the sight of him to later put the lines to a canvas. “Did you have a good time, Joel? I mean, really. You won't offend me.”

He grimaced. “I, uh… well, see, I’m not the best judge, and… I guess—”

“Joel.”

There was a gleam in your eyes that could have been amusement or could have been hunger. He doesn't remember. He only saw you tilt your chin and lower your eyes to his mouth, to that one place the Sisters always called vulgar, obscene, a place meant only for His word—

“Can I kiss you, Joel Miller, or will you keep being all heroic?”

It was soft, gentle, exploratory. Your mouth opened his like a wound, setting the scorching blade of your lips to the gash, staunching the blood. You healed and burned him, one hand on his back beneath his jacket, the other cupping his face. It reminded him of the statue that lived in the theatre underneath the church where all the boys and girls trained. An angel cast in white marble, cradling the face of Saint Eustace. The statue was chipped where his eye was meant to be. 

He remembers the way he shuddered when you touched him like that. He remembers the chill that started in his feet and crept up his spine. Something like coming alive, settling back into his own body—no longer a spirit haunting the shell of a home but a man. 

You pulled back, but Joel curled his hand around the back of your neck and kissed you again, deeper, maybe a little too eager, too inexperienced—but you gasped, fingers curling in his hair, your body curving into his. Your noses bumped when you separated, and he remembers laughing. 

The rain is nothing like that night. It's the lash of a whip across his face, seeping colour from the world instead of infusing it with light and movement. The water by the docks slaps against the concrete and boats rock and groan against their mooring. The lights of the city are distant now. 

Joel steps out of the car. 

He marches toward his target, cocking the pistol in his hand, and calls out a name. It gets lost in the roll of thunder across the sky and lodges in his chest. 

Cabrera waits on the landing pad, looking wraithlike in a long black coat and a pair of leather gloves. His pilot fuels the helicopter nearby. Neither of them hear Joel’s voice in the air. The rising sun is what gives him away—or maybe the gunshot, as he lifts his arm and pulls the trigger. 

It does not pierce flesh. It ricochets off one of the rotor blades. He had aimed slightly to the left. 

The pilot scampers off into hiding, but the slash of the bullet through the rainfall is enough to get the attention Joel wants. Cabrera reaches inside the lining of his jacket and fires a single shot. Joel can feel it tear through skin and muscle, but it doesn't hurt. 

“Joel,” greets Cabrera. 

“Manuel.” 

His chest heaves, his jacket soaked through, the cold sinking bone-deep. 

“Let's finish this.”

The glimmer in those depthless black eyes is the panther at the hunt, relentless in its hunger, licking its chops at the sight of a challenge. For all the coward’s blood in his veins, it still pulses at the prospect of winning. 

“Like men,” says Cabrera, tossing his gun aside at the same time Joel does. “With honour. No more guns.”

And it's laughable: the thought that there is any honour left in a world like this. A world where children are beaten and lashed and trained to hold a weapon too big for their hands. A world that burns villages, butchers families, and still claims that without rules, we live with the animals. 

A world as unruly as this cannot be ruled. He never truly considered it until he saw the sad gleam in your eye, felt the empathetic touch of your hand on his face, and began to realise that maybe he should be furious. 

But because he already knows he's going to win, Joel lets his opponent land the first blow. 

The blood is tangy, near-sweet, as he swipes his forearm over his mouth and smears crimson on his shirtsleeve. It tingles faintly on his lips and crackles, warm as the melt from a late-winter snow. He feels it settle in the grooves of his palms, the hairs of his beard. He’s drowning in it. 

Cabrera hits hard, but he’s slow. He’ll take five punches in the time it takes to wind up for one. Joel brings his arm up to block the next and delivers a blow to the sternum with his knee as his opponent’s guard drops. Wide open, Cabrera stumbles a few steps back, choking down the telltale wheeze of being winded. Joel marches forward, relentless in his crusade, grasping him by the scruff of his neck, teeth bared like a mad wild dog, and bears his skull down on the side of the railing. Around them, the wind howls and lashes at his clothes, but he still hears the pained scream as if it were poured into his ears. 

Cabrera drops to his knees, and Joel grabs him again, bashing his head repeatedly against the steel bar, the lapel of an Italian leather coat bunching between his fingers, tainted by rainwater and the fist of the man who's come to take his life. 

And fuck, Joel wants to make it last. 

But there's a knife in his opponent’s hand, conjured from the darkness of his coat pocket, and Joel must release him to avoid the lethal slash of the blade. Blinking blood and lashing rain from his eyes, the man lunges with a snarl, and Joel recovers from his lost victory, stopping him with his fingers curled around his opponent’s wrist. He brings his hand to the crook of Cabrera’s elbow and uses his leverage to snap the bone.

Yowling, Cabrera drops to his haunches, the knife clattering to the ground. Joel, chest heaving, stands over him, flexing his fingers as he readies his fist for the killing blow.

His name leaves Cabrera’s bloodied mouth, accompanied by a mouthful of crimson-tainted saliva spat on the ground at Joel’s feet. 

“Joel…” He lifts his head, cradling his broken arm, and sneers. There’s a chilling glow of satisfaction in it. “Did you get your perfect life, Joel? Do you really think you’ve won? It won’t ever stop. Not after you’ve killed me, not after you’ve killed all of them. Is that what you’re going to do? Kill them all?”

He could. He has done far worse. He has spilled blood for gold coins and superficial alliances and someone else's revenge. He has stalked, stolen, lied, killed, and he could finish this now, so easily, with the flick of a blade. 

But the song of death does not call to him now. 

For so long he had trudged, unmoored, through heavy crimson blood. Like pulling at the seams of velvet, he'd sewn more lives into the sea of red and he never looked behind him to see the souls trying to pull him down at the ankles. He didn't know purpose until he saw the way the candlelight flickered in your eyes, until he tilted his head to the side and realised your smile was a new kind of beautiful from each angle. 

The rain sticks to his lashes and he thinks of an old song of prayer the Sisters used to chant. He remembers curling his fingers around one of the rosaries that hung from the large cross in the cathedral and wincing in anticipation. He thought he would burn—that the metal would leave a red stain on his palm. It never did. 

Maybe that's why he never believed. Surely, if there was a God, Joel Miller would have burned by now. 

He thinks of shopping for furniture and date nights and lazy mornings, tangled in bedsheets. Your mouth, smiling against his, whispering I love you across the breakfast table. Dancing—or swaying, more like—under the kitchen light. Loving easily, never feeling as if he must grab hold of the cross and burn himself upon it just to feel. 

Joel turns the switchblade in his hand, lurches forward, and plunges the knife into Cabrera’s chest. 

There is no noise but a faint gurgle from his mouth, his hand weakly rising to grasp the hilt. Joel drops to his knees and fishes Cabrera’s cell phone from his pocket. 

“The blade is stuck in your aorta,” he says. “If you pull it out, you’ll bleed out and die.” He puts the rain-slick screen in front of Cabrera’s face. “Pull the contract.”

A few feeble taps are all it takes, and Joel Miller is no longer a target. His name glares back at him on the screen, from two million to nothing, not the boogeyman any longer but something akin to a civilian. Joel tosses the phone into the water and turns to leave. 

“See you in hell, Joel,” Cabrera chokes, still grasping the shiny wooden hilt of the blade.

He barely hauls himself into the car, which chokes to a rumbling start. There's blood seeping through his shirt where Cabrera shot him, and his fingers shake as they pull away from the wound, the red so bright, so alive. Joel grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. 

If there’s a God, he thinks, I hope you fucking hear me now. 

Tell me that we don’t get what we deserve. Because there is nothing I deserve in this world if I cannot keep what I’ve found.

His fingers trembling, smearing blood across the screen, he makes a call. 

And your voice on the line, soft, sticky with sleep, whispering his name—just his name: Joel?—is what wrenches the first sob from his throat. 

Joel, you say, like it means something, like it's precious. A jewel pressed from dusty black coal. Come back to me. Come home. 

So he does. 

#fic: helen #kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou fic #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #john wick au

[beebeedibapbeediboop]

Haven't I given enough?

Given enough

#artists on tumblr #art #illustration #the postwoman #the bad bad shadow guy #character design #angst #everyone: oh bee is back she might post more of the postwoman and bad bad shadow guy :D #me: drop this #best I can do chief #i told my friend i wanted to draw her sad because i always draw her happy and she said when was the last time you drew her happy #and im like....thats fair #might be for another day lmao #tbh it's also a big vent art #song in caption is gilded lily by cults #using my ocs to cope

[songsofadelaide]

cw/tw: sickfic, fluff, reader has she/her pronouns, gojo being a little silly. wc: 666

"She's down with a fever, so don't get any ideas, Gojo."

"Wh— You talk as if I'm going to do something nefarious to her, Shoko!"

"Nefarious, no, but idiotic, probably. Do all of us a favour and steer clear of her in the meantime. We don't want others catching this bug."

They say fever dreams are usually unpleasant, but why was this some kind of replay of one of your favourite high school memories instead? Favourite except for the fact that you were sick. 

"Y'know I've never really actually gotten sick before because of my infinity and all…"

A cool hand is pressed to your burning forehead, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you come into contact with it. 

"Yikes, she's actually burning up!" 

"That's why I told you to stay away. If you or anyone else catches this, I am going to lock you all in the morgue for all I care."

"You'd do that to her?!"

"Not her, of course!"

Getting sick is probably one of the worst things that could ever happen to you. Some days, you can't seem to sweep your condition under the rug, no matter how hard you try to be normal about it. A cold was starkly different from being cursed and it was such a normal thing that Shoko had no other choice but to treat it normally— by telling you to drink your meds and get some rest. 

Nanami said he'd handle your pending mission, so rest you did. 

There was nothing at all restful about having to stay on campus, though, with Shoko saying she could keep a better eye on your condition there. You felt like the walls and the halls already knew so much. The happiness of your youth, the sadness and anguish of having friends perish before your very eyes, and the bittersweetness of your first love. 

"Pain, pain, go away…"

Your first love that seemed to stalk the halls of the magic college, for some reason. 

"Come again another day…"

The humming sounded far too real now to be a dream, even more so when the same cool touch was pressed to your forehead again. "Ah…"

"It's okay, you can sleep some more."

In fear you may be in delirium, you opened your eyes and found Satoru seated right by your bedside, a wet towel and a basin of water right next to him. "Satoru?…"

"Sorry. Did I wake ya?" He asked, though you couldn't get a read on his expression with that ridiculous blindfold over his eyes. "Heard from Shoko that you were sick, so…"

"Didn't she tell you not to come over?" You said with a sigh. 

"No need to be so worried about me. I've never really actually gotten sick before because of my infinity."

"I know, I know. You've always been too invincible."

He brushed his cold knuckles over your forehead once more, finally drawing out a tired smile from you. "Do you want me to grab you some ice water or something?"

"No, I'm good…" You told him, gently holding him back from moving away from you. When he realised what you meant, he placed his hand over your forehead again. "You're like a popsicle."

It was his turn to chuckle this time. "Ramune flavour?"

"Exactly."

Satoru slightly moved to reach for your hand, clammy as it was, his cold fingers curling around your warmer ones, and somehow, you can't really tell if all of this is real. 

"Satoru…"

"Yeah, sweets?"

"Can you pinch my hand or something? I feel like I'm in high school again and I'm dreaming all of this up. After all, I like you so much that I might even be hallucinating."

He squeezed your hand with just enough force as if asking, is it real enough yet?

"…Real," you sighed and nodded to yourself. "Sorry…"

"Whatever are you apologising for?" He grinned at you. "You think I don't like hearing about how much you like me, even from before?"

#songsofadelaidewrites💛 #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff

[randombush3]

another snippet while I slave away lol

this one hurt a bit to write x

“My mums are lesbian!” he blurts out, excited enough to attract the attention of his teacher. When she appears, he grins at her sweetly; the kind of smile that has melted many hearts, though Nico is unaware of how many people know he exists. “More paper, please.” 

“Nico, you haven’t even tried with your first one.”

She isn’t harsh at all, but he has slowly learnt to stop asking follow-up questions. Six months of exasperated ‘I don’t know, Nicolau’s has taught him that. 

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He learnt what a shrug was the other day, when Mapi told him off for doing it to her. (“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me, Nicolau Putellas!” she had chided playfully. “All I asked was which of your mamas’ houses we need to go to.”)

“Nico, what’s ‘lesbian’?” 

“Mama says football is lesbian. Basketball might be lesbian! That’s why your sister is lesbian.” 

“My mum says that lesbians kiss girls.”

“Mama kisses girls! And Mami. And they used to kiss each other but now they don’t speak and me and my sister swap houses.” Nico begins drawing it out for Paula when she peers at him, befuddled. “Here is Mama’s.” A big square, a glamorous-looking woman inside of the blue shape; a stick with a circle on the end of it; the notes he sees in his piano music floating in the air. “And…” he says, tongue sticking out as he concentrates on the opposite half of the page, “here is Mami’s.” 

He draws a football. He picks up the red crayon too, and uses both the blau and the grana simultaneously. “Mami plays football for Barça.” He draws two lines on Alexia’s t-shirt. 11. “Mami made me get 11 at football.” Nico had originally worn the 10, but then the affair had come to light and Alexia was suddenly deep in conversation with his coach and apologising to the boy Nico then had to swap shirts with. 

Then, he drops the crayons in his hand and searches for the stack near Paula. He selects the purple one, gripping it tightly, his friend still listening to him with intrigue. 

“This is me and Lela.” Two stick figures are drawn in the middle of the page; the middle ground between each of the squares. 

Nico sometimes feels stuck between it all. 

When Mami got very sad, he and Elena went to stay with Mapi and Ingrid for a few nights. He held his little sister’s hand as much as he could. He always tries to remind her that he is right there with her. 

Mami once told him that it was his turn to protect Elena. Nico hasn’t forgotten that. 

“I keep Lela safe.” He has encouraged her, slightly selfishly, to call him ‘skipper’, which he has picked up from the Lionesses. Luckily, Alexia has not told him off for it because she doesn’t know what it means. “Lela is my little sister. She is a baby. She doesn’t remember what it was like when Mama and Mami loved each other, but I do.” 

The purple crayon scrapes on the page as he presses it into the white, colour rubbing out in the shape of a heart. “Lela and I are together. Mami tries to take me from her sometimes, but I don’t let her.” 

His story – and ability to make Paula pay attention for longer than ten seconds – has already garnered the quiet attention of his teacher, but she moves closer as Nico continues. The four-year-old leaves out how Alexia usually is inviting him to training with her. With Elena yet to show any interest in football, it remains her and Nico’s special thing, and, of course, she misses him when it is not her turn. 

You usually give your permission if you have no other plans. Alexia is upset that the only hindrance is the little boy who once worshipped her like a god. 

“Nico, why did you want two pages?” asks Paula curiously, assuming he is finished now that his whole family is displayed on the piece of paper. 

He frowns. “Because now I have to do this.” And with that, he tears the sheet in half. 

Paula’s mouth drops open in surprise, as does his teacher’s. 

“What’s wrong?” comes a mature voice, a hand placed on his shoulder just like it is when the other children in his class cry. Nico doesn’t cry. He is strong and brave, like a little soldier. “Did you not like your drawing?” 

“No,” he replies neutrally, “half can live with Mama, and half can live with Mami.” 

“But now you are ripped down the middle.” 

He traces the jagged edges of the halves of his life. One leg is on your side, the other on Alexia’s. 

“I know, but it’s okay. I don’t cry.”

#randombush3 #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for rejecting PDA with my fiancée?

We’re both in our 20s, me early her late. She’s very physically affectionate, and I am very cuddly but more hugs and holding hands than anything else. I’m not a huge fan of kissing honestly, it just doesn’t do much for me and I only do it because she likes it (I’m not ace so I’m not sure why, it just feels meh to me LOL).

When we’re out in public she will very often go in for kisses in public surrounded by people and I always say no, lean away, etc. and she gets super sad and disappointed. I have social anxiety so I’m self-conscious about attention drawn to us but on top of that I’m FTM and I’m still not used to passing in public, I believe I do reliably pass as male at this point but in my head I’m still worrying that people see us as a ‘lesbian couple’ and that we could be inviting homophobia with public affection (and even if I pass as a guy I probably give a very Not Straight vibe anyway because I wear heeled boots and black nail polish etc so it’s still a worry on my part either way). We live in a very small town that’s very pretty conservative. She knows I don’t like public kissing and get embarrassed very easily but she says she really likes it and wants it in the relationship so I try to compromise by doing it when we’re around friends and family but not strangers. It should be noted she’s not asking for makeouts or anything just random quick pecks

Last time we were waiting in line at a fast food place in the evening and she tried to pull me in for a kiss when we were surrounded on both sides by drunk men and I got really freaked out and sort of yanked back from her and told her not to do that, and I know her feelings got hurt by it. But I was just really on edge around a bunch of drunk rowdy men in a small space and throwing the concern of drawing their notice more on top of that made me react impulsively.

AITA for basically rejecting her affection in public?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[topichoon]

Like A Summer Breeze - Lee Heeseung

genre(s). fluff, smut, crack, and friends to lovers trope

pairing. bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader

WARNINGS: pet names, reader shares about their insecurities, kissing, public sex (in hot tub), fingering, p in v, oral (f receiving), any more..?

a/n. I felt very in the summer mood ig sooooo I decided to write this! it was so much fun to write as well like i was enjoying it the whole time😭

The scorching hot sun shines into my room peeking through from the window. This reminds me that it’s the first day of summer break finally. Last year was my freshmen year in college and it was quite hard to adjust since I'm not good with big changes, but overtime I got used to it. Sometimes it makes me sad to think about my old friends from high school since I haven't talked to most of them for a long time, but I honestly can’t wait for what the future will bring me. I'd prefer a healthy relationship, since that's been on the top of my list for years now. I’ve had a few boyfriends in the past, but they never lasted. I try to tell myself that I just haven’t found the right one yet but when I see all of my friends happily with their relationship it makes me doubt if someone will even love for who I am.

Just like my last relationship with Choi Beomgyu, the school's frat boy whose most known to get himself around whenever he can. I should’ve known not to fall for one, but I just couldn’t help myself. Whenever a man gives me the slightest amount of attention after I've been in so many bad relationships it makes me think they actually want me. And not just for all the sexual aspects like they’ve always wanted. Of course, I like doing sexual things with my lover but when that's the only thing they truly want from me that's where I have to draw the line.

One time with my first boyfriend back in my junior year of high school, he wanted me to give it up my virginity to him, and I did because I thought he actually loved me for more than sex. But right after I gave him what he wanted, he got up and left then ghosted me. I hadn't seen him in ages since he suspiciously switched high schools but to my surprise he applied to the same college as I did. And I always see him around campus with another girl wrapped around his finger. I wonder if he changed but to my assumptions and seeing him with a new girl practically every day I wouldn't doubt if he's still the same.

That's why I’m very thankful for my best friend Heeseung, we’ve been best friends since birth basically since our moms were friends' way back when, so we were prone to being friends as well. He’s always there for me when something went wrong and reassuring me that everything going to be okay. Every time one of my relationships had ended, he was always there to comfort me. He’s sort of in the same boat as me when it comes to relationships, but as the male he isn’t the one taking advantage of the girl, it’s the exact opposite.

He hasn’t told me much about his romantic life but when he does, I make sure not to forget it because that's usually a sign that it was bad. One particular relationship with a girl he had last year was terrible. And I’ve never seen him cry so much in his entire life, which made my heart break for him to see how much he cared about her and how she just threw him to the curb.

The girl had been cheating on him their whole entire relationship but never said a word, I guess Heeseung was too oblivious to figure out right away. But I don't blame him because he was so in love and when you're truly in love you have your full trust in your significant other, which is what happened he did trust her with his entire life, but she took that for advantage. Overtime he had grew some suspicions due to her always getting back past 12am and making excuses that it was for "work" or something stupid. But the real way he found out himself was he caught her with a guy in her car late at night when he was looking out his window waiting for her to arrive back from "work". At this point when he saw those two in his car his heart shattered completely, he couldn't believe the girl he thought he was going to marry did this to him.

When he finally opened up to me and told me what happened with his ex-girlfriend, he didn’t tell me what they were doing in the car but from how upset he was I can almost guarantee it was tragic. So, what better option is there to cope than applying for an ice cream shop job on a pier. We both applied a couple weeks ago at the same time by filling out an online application, and we finally heard back a few days ago. We made it a competition to see who would get in because they were only looking for one person at the time. But to our surprise their last employee quit, so the owner reached out to us and said we were in.

Most people would take employees quitting as a negative thing, but we were just excited that we would be doing this job together for the rest of the summer. Same time, same hours, same everything. The dress code on the other hand isn’t even bad, but the owner said that we could wear whatever we wanted to since he doesn’t really care anymore as long as we’re doing our job. So, I’ll probably just settle for a bikini paired with jean shorts on the bottom because I don’t want it to be too revealing since basically all of my swimsuits are not very family friendly and technically the real job is to be serving ice cream not dressing like a prostitute for goodness sakes.

Hee 😼: You ready for our first day on the job 😭

Me: yeah…definetly😐 bro what do i do if someone tries to hit on me??!

Hee 😼: idfk! Just go along with it…? Also did you just brozone me

Me: you’ve been brozoned your whole entire life 🤣

Hee 😼: i’m. Blocking. You.

Me: NO WAIT PLEASE DONT I BEG🙏

Hee 😼: why are you begging you weirdo😟 (do it more often)

Me: okay nvm pls block me now i’m not talking to you anymore🙄

Hee 😼: you know i could never block youuu

Me: stop this lovey dovey stuff NOW my friends just asked me if we were dating.

Hee 😼: you know you wish we were dating😘

Me: ...

Hee 😼: well i’ll be there in 10 see you soon my beautiful girlfriend😜

I roll my eyes and throw my phone onto my bed and put on my pink bikini set and slid my jean shorts on. And then slide on some sandals paired with one of my seashell bracelets that Heeseung got me as a kid on our “10-year bff anniversary” or so he calls it. I always wear it no matter what even when I’m not with him.

I just feel protected whenever I wear it because I know it’s from him. And he always wears my handmade coastal styled necklace I made him everywhere he goes. I finish tying my hair back into a low braid and take a quick check in the mirror before heading to the front door. I take a peek out the front door window and see him parked in the driveway. I exit my house and go into the passenger seat.

“Hey y/nnn!” Heeseung smiles while looking over at me. I take a moment before responding because I was a bit distracted with his choice of outfit. And because he looked good. Like really good.

A white button up polo with all the buttons undone. Finished with his black shorts. He seemed to notice how long I was looking at him, so he decided to speak, “y/n~ my eyes are right here” he points to his eyes with a sly grin plastered on his face.

“Oh whatever..” I playfully roll my eyes in response to him. He laughs before backing out of my driveway. He turns and grabs my seat tightly while backing out, the grip and veins from his hand makes me think some very interesting thoughts.

But I quickly snap out of it once I realize he would think that's probably weird of me but in all honesty, my self respect is long gone just from seeing his hands if I'm going to be honest. “You look really good by the way.” Heeseung says softly, the blush on his face getting redder by the second.

“Thank you hee, you don’t look too bad yourself.” I attempt to say confidently but instead sound shy. But how could I sound confident in myself when this is THE Lee Heeseung after all. Even though we’ve been friends for many years I still get nervous around him because his aura is so damn intimidating.

My friends say it’s because I like him, but I honestly get nervous around every guy. I think it’s normal, but I guess they think otherwise. Although in their defense I did get upset and jealous when he was with another girl, but it’s solemnly because I didn’t want him to get hurt again!

We arrive at the ice cream shop 1 hour before opening so hopefully we can learn our way around and see how everything works. The shop is pretty spacious and much bigger than I expected it to be. So, I am very thankful that we came here early because if we didn't, I would not know what to do.

“Y/n if I’m going to be completely honest with you, I don’t know how to make ice cream...” Heeseung curls his lips trying to hide his laughter.

“What?! How do you not know how to make ice cream?” I look at him with my jaw dropped and a shocked look on my face totally missing his joke for being serious.

To which he returns a loud laugh and replies, “I was just messing with you! You should’ve seen the look on your face!” He continues laughing while pointing at my still confused face.

I laugh as well while shaking my head in disbelief. I can’t believe I almost thought this idiot didn’t know how to make ice cream. I mean there could be a chance but he’s not that dumb to not know how to scoop ice cream and simply put it into a cone.

We finally get all set up in the shop and get ready while standing in front of the 2 cashier registers, one for me and one for him. “Let’s make it a competition to see who can get more people to come to their register. Okay?” I challenge him with a smirk on my face.

“Game on. I already know I’m going to win.” He pats my head gently before returning back to the register since the customers are already walking inside.

We had already served a lot of customers and it was close to ending time but just before we were going to start packing up one more girl walked in. She had nice freshly done beach wave curls, along with a skimpy bikini. The more I analyzed her closely she had a way better body than me, she had bigger tits and a big ass.

As she walked in further, I could already tell who she was going to go to. Heeseung. I almost felt jealous. I already knew I wasn’t good enough for him but damn just seeing her hit hard enough. Heeseung got off his phone and looked at her.

I took a deep breath in and out, curling my lips anxiously. As she walked closer, I felt very insecure, I didn’t have big tits or a big ass they are way smaller, and I am just skinny. I mean I have a flat stomach and a good set of abs, but guys don’t seem to like that anymore from what I've seen.

She transfers her gaze away from Heeseung to me surprisingly. She smiled at me brightly and came to my register. I was quite startled to be honest because I wasn’t expecting her to go to mine. I was so sure she was going to go try and hit on Heeseung but I thought wrong.

“Hello! I was wondering if I could have 2 mint ice cream cones, please?” She looks at me softly.

I quickly nod and type it all up into the register getting the total. Heeseung goes to the back and starts scooping up the ice cream.

“Will that be all for you today?” I return her smile and wait for her response.

To which she nods, “yes! My girlfriend and I are on vacation here, so we decided to stop here!” She says cheerily. I nod and grab her card from her swiping it across the side and return it back to her.

Oh my god. I was jealous of someone who was already in a happy relationship. How fucking sick am I; I should’ve known not to be jealous of someone at first glance. But in this case...I was.

Heeseung brings the ice cream cones up to the front and she grabs them from his hands saying a quiet “thank you” and walks out.

When she walks out Heeseung turns and looks at me and walks over “you were jealous weren’t you?” He chuckles while shutting down the registers.

“Why are you asking?” I question him out of curiosity. Quite confused why he would ask this out of the blue. But also, I wanted to know how he knew was it clear on my face that I was?!

“It was pretty obvious y/n,” he laughs quietly in between “but just know you’re beautiful just the way you are ynnie..I would pick you over anybody else if you gave me the chance...” he walks over to my and hugs me from behind.

“And also…I love your body.” He runs his hands up and along the side of my torso. “So, if you ever are insecure about yourself, just know I think you’re fucking hot and anyone who says otherwise is wrong.” He buries his face into my neck while saying this.

“Just so you know if that girl was trying to hit on me or make any moves, I would’ve shut her down right away.” Heeseung’s warm breath hitting my neck causing shivers to get sent down my spine.

"And also...I won~" He pulls away smirking and collects his tips from the tip jar. While I just stand there completely dumbfounded from everything that just happened.

HEESEUNG’S POV

Ever since I hit puberty, I saw y/n in a completely different way than before. I felt this romantic connection with her, and it never went away no matter how many relationships I got in. And sometimes it feels like she actually wants me, but other times it feels the exact opposite. Like she could honestly care less about me and just ditch me for someone else better than me. It's hard to understand her you know. Which is why I've tried so hard to not have feelings for her because I know it would never work out, we're best friends and she probably just wants to stay that way. Which I'm completely fine with it hurts to think that way but I would never force her into something that she wouldn't want.

I tried at least to prove my feelings for her last night at the ice cream shop by calling her “gorgeous” and “hot”, so if she does supposedly happen to have feelings for me, she would know I feel the same way. But I don’t think she got the memo and she most likely thought I was just being nice to her or something. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes if it means I can have her. Yesterday when I noticed her looking upset when that one girl walked in, I immediately felt bad. I want her to know that I wouldn’t choose any other girl over her.

It will always be her.

Y/N’S POV

It’s been about 2 months since we started the job and its now August. The last month of summer before we'll have to go back to college and go our separate ways again. Time flew by so fast, and I’m so upset that it’s almost coming to an end.

Sadly, we don’t go to same university, so we won’t be able to see each other as often. But last year we did manage to make it work as we facetimed frequently and hung out about once a month in person. If I’m telling the truth I don’t think that was enough time. But I’m glad to have the summer so we can grow back closer again before we grow apart over the school year just like last year.

Me: hee! do you wanna hangout today?

Hee 😼: yesss where?

Me: I was thinking your house? Because I know you got a hot tub recently 🤭

Hee 😼: dang I should’ve known you didn’t want to go because of me🥲🥲

Me: says who? Maybe I did want to see you as well🤷‍♀️

Hee 😼: knew you did😮‍💨 but so do I 🫣

Me: okay well I’ll be there in 5 does that work for you?

Hee 😼: anything works for me when it comes to you

Me: hmm okay then perf😩 I’ll see you soon

Hee 😼: bye ynnieee

I pull up to his house and get out of my car. Walking up to his door I quickly readjust my bikini as it was all over the place and showing basically everything from the car ride. Partially from being my most revealing bikini I have, but if I want to impress Heeseung that’s the way to go, I guess. And it's the last few weeks of summer so if I want to get his attention I don't have forever before he finds another girl on his campus.

I ring his doorbell and wait patiently but definitely not for long. Before I know it the door is already flung all the way open. Revealing a tall and handsome guy which is Heeseung.

He gestures me inside and shuts the door behind me. I catch him checking me out and it’s blatantly obvious to me. I grab his jaw and move his head up so now he’s looking into my eyes. When I get a clearer look at his face I notice his burning red cheeks. How cute…

He looks down at my lips for a split second then looks back up at my eyes. Licking his lips, his eyes are filled with need and desire. But I’m not going to give him that, yet I’ll make him work for it just like I've had to basically my whole life trying to get him to like me. I let go of his jaw and smile at his disappointed reaction.

“Wanna go in the hot tub now?” I ask him excitedly. Waiting for his answer he interlocks his fingers with mine and nods his head.

“Yeah, let’s go.” He mumbles. He leads me to his newly finished backyard.

We make it to the hot tub and he asks me, “what color lights do you want in the hot tub” he gulps before finishing his sentence “there’s blue, red—“

I cut him off before he can finish saying the colors before I blurt out “red.” He looks at me a little surprised but smirk’s instantly when he gets the memo.

He grabs the light switch cord and changes it to red and turns on the jets. I go to the stairs and slowly walk into the hot tub, getting used to the warm temperature. Heeseung walks behind me very closely.

We both sit on one of the ledges inside the hot tub and I turn to look at him. “Thanks again hee for letting me come over,” I say smiling widely.

“Anytime, I love seeing you as much as I can.” Heeseung fidgets with his fingers nervously. Of course, I notice this, so I decide to scoot a littl closer to him. Maybe he’ll get what I’m implying, I hope.

And to my surprise he does notice, and his cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “You know if you wanted to sit on my lap, you could’ve just asked?” He builds up the courage to ask.

I look at him with a small smirk and get on his lap like he said. His hands almost instantly go on my thighs massaging the inner corners. No man has ever taken their time to touch me like this, they just fucked me raw. But Heeseung…I’m determined to figure out how he fucks.

Our lips connect and move together at a perfect rhythm. It’s almost as if our lips were made for each other. Heeseung continues rubbing my inner thighs making me moan in between kisses. He inserts his tongue in my mouth, roaming all around. He tastes so sweet I’m addicted to his lips at this point. His lips so soft and plush and they work absolute miracles.

His hands working their way dangerously close to my throbbing core. Fuck I am so into this, I know this is wrong and this will ruin our friendship. But I could care less, the way he’s teasing me with his every movement makes me want him even more.

“Do you want this...?” Heeseung asks carefully before going further. I nod quickly but that doesn’t faze him. “Words yn.” He waits for me to actually confirm verbally.

“Yes, I want this so bad hee!” I whine desperately. He wastes no time before removing my bikini bottoms and starts rubbing my clit. Starting at a slow pace then working the speed faster overtime.

He takes one of my tits and wastes no time before taking it all into his mouth. He sucks on it likes it’s his last day on earth. His free hand playing with my other nipple making sure it doesn’t feel left out. He softly bites down on my nipple that’s in his mouth making me whimper in return.

My head drops back into his shoulder from the pleasure. His fingers felt so good, almost too good to be true. Along with his mouth working wonders his tongue licking all over my tit. The way he was doing so much to me at once made my eyes roll back.

He continues these movements before inserting one finger in. The feeling of his finger going inside me makes me go insane. A fleeted moan exits my body as he plunges another finger in.

“Doing so good ynnie…” he says in a dark huskily voice his voice vibrating on my tit. Thrusting his fingers in and out while my moans get louder. His fingers going deeper inside of me at a quick tempo makes my mind wander to how his dick would feel inside me.

“Fuck! I’m s-so close heeseungie..” I cry out my body squirming all over his clothed cock. Heeseung's swim trunks suddenly becoming 3x too tight from how painfully hard he is getting just from hearing these beautiful sounds come out of my mouth and the feeling of my warm walls clenching against his fingers.

“Oh yeah? Come on cum all over my fingers...” he whispers darkly in my ear.

Those words made me cum right away, immediately coating his fingers with my sweet juices. Part of me can’t believe I’m doing this but the other part of me wants to discover more.

He removes his mouth off my tit while placing one last peck on my nipple and says, “did so good f’me fuck, can’t wait to see how good you’ll feel around my cock.” He takes off his swim trunks and grabs my hips.

He lines me up and I slowly sink down onto his cock. His long shaft going further into me and going places no other man could ever reach. I wait for my gummy walls to adjust to his big size and length before I do anything.

“Okay I’m ready.” I breath out giving him the okay to start going.

He wastes no time before gripping tighter onto my hips and making me ride him. I grab onto the sides of the ledge inside the hot tub and grind my body along his lap. This throws him over the edge, and he moans.

My tight hole clenching down on his cock tightly that he just can’t get enough of. He bucks his hips up making me whine, “sorry baby you just feel too good...” his noises become more audible as I start bouncing up and down on his long cock.

“F-fuck..I’m going to cum if you keep doing that yn.” His head throws back his hands traveling all around my body. Once he says those words I speed up, his thickness stretching me out, but the pleasure gets rid of all the pain.

“Shit— I'm going to cum yn.. cum with me,” Heeseung grunted while his fingers dig deeper into my skin sure to leave marks the next morning.

“How about me make this a little more exciting,” he pauses building the anticipation “let’s do a countdown...” he growled bringing his face closer to my revealed neck. Placing love bites and hickies all over my collarbone.

“5….” Heeseung’s thrusts becoming rougher and reaching undiscovered spots.

Wet moans release my mouth from the way his tip is hitting all the right places. From the way he is breathing and groaning I can tell this countdown is as hard for him and it is for me. “4...come on you can do this yn” his eyes shut close at the extreme pleasure.

The way I’m clenching so tightly on his cock makes him go feral. He doesn’t know if he can even last 5 seconds because he needs to cum now. “Fuck— 3…” moans and grunts filling the area that the neighbors can for sure hear.

But we could care less the only thing we’re focused on is trying not to cum. Thank goodness his parents weren’t home today because they usually are since Heeseung has to go back to university in a week.

“2.... we're so close just keep holding on baby...” he rasps his voice low and dark.

“1...” the moment this leaves his voice is when I completely come undone onto his cock. Along with his warm seed spreading all over my insides.

Our breaths heavy and clothes gone if anyone looked out their window, they would now what just happen. But thankfully no one did, and we stay like this for a couple more minutes before we start collected our swim pieces.

He helps me tie my bikini top on along with my bottoms so we can look at least good enough to walk back in the house. Before getting his swim trunks back on he places a small kiss on my neck.

"Holy shit...I can't believe we just did that— but that was the best sex I've ever had in my entire life..." he chuckles while tying his swim trunks.

"Yeah, me either...but I do have to agree with you that was fucking amazing." I nod agreeingly watching him adjust his trunks and shake his wet hair.

"Here we should probably go inside so I can clean you up..." He grabs my waist and helps me get out of the hot tub since my legs basically feel just like Jello. That was most definitely the best fuck I've ever and probably ever will experience. And I am more than thankfully I had this opportunity before it was too late.

We walk in the house together to our relief his parents weren't home since they were on a business trip for a month. So, we went into the bathroom and undressed ourselves once again like earlier. I would love to do that again but I'm not quite sure if he can handle it.

He turns on the water and waits for it to get warm enough before we walk in. I immediately spot a ledge inside the shower and sit on it. I lean my head back and close my eyes. It's not long before I feel something wet lapping at my clit. So, I quickly look down and see a needy Heeseung desperately sucking on my clit. I smile and put my hands in his hair tugging slightly to give him a sign that I see him doing this. When he feels me pull on his hair he goes faster. Eating me out like it's his last meal but I am not complaining because this man is pussy drunk at its fullest.

The shower filled with echoes of my moans and whines making Heeseung proud to know he is making me feel this way. He is so determined to make me cum again and from the way he is sucking on my swollen clit and inserting his tongue in my entrance makes me almost positive I will.

"Pussy tastes so fucking good..." he groans while thrusting his tongue in and out of my hole. The vibrations of his voice on my clit makes me let out a wet moan.

"Fuck— f-faster! Heeseungie please..." I grip his hair tighter and start riding his face desperately. Heeseung smirks and tongue fucks me just how I asked for.

"I'm gonna c-cum!!" I whine bucking my hips upwards and slamming my eyes shut tightly.

"C'mon darling...cum on my face." His slurps and words being the only thing I can focus on at the moment. Everything around me feels like it's spinning from how good I feel.

I let out a breath and do as he says. Cumming all over his pretty face with my warm juices. "So good f'me..." he licks around his lips where some of my cum landing. Trying not to waste a single drop because he is so addicted to the taste.

We finished the rest of the shower washing each other's bodies off making sure not to miss any spots. But we ended up going for a round 2 anyways due to him getting hard and horny from washing my body. Later that night he had asked me to be his girlfriend and expressed his feelings he had for me ever since he was a kid, and I of course said yes. At last, we understood our feelings towards each other, and I was almost certain this relationship was going to last.

Ever since then work has been so much funnier and enjoyable when working together because we both had finally realized our feelings towards each other. We spent more time together outside of work and slept at each other's houses very often. Which was basically every single day, it's as if we were making up for all the lost time we could've spent together if we had expressed our feelings sooner. But in all honesty, we were just so in love that we didn't want to go without one another.

But of course, with every good that happens there is always a bad that follows with it. Summer break ends in a week which would mean we would have to separate for an entire school year. I knew it would be hard, but I was determined to make it work and so was he. I just hoped that it wouldn't be like last year when by the end of the year we barely talked to each other at all. But I have higher hopes this time that it will work out since we are actually official now.

Because I will always love him the first time and the last time. Forever and forever till death do us apart. I know he is the one for me which is why it took me a bit to realize it was him. Lee Heeseung. My one and only love. He has proven so many times this as well, he is such a gentleman and we even told our parents, and they were so happy for us. They had told us they knew this moment would come eventually which made me laugh because I had heard their conversations before about me and Heeseung and this topic was definitely brought up more than once.

The week had already passed, and it was now time to get back to college. I cried the whole day and Heeseung did as well, it felt as if it were too soon for us to leave each other. I knew it wouldn't be forever but it made it even harder knowing our colleges are very far apart so we couldn't just visit each other in person on a regular daily basis.

The first to go was Heeseung since his college was the farthest away, so he had to get going earlier than I did. It broke my heart seeing him load away his luggage's into the trunk because it made me really remember that we're separating. This whole summer we had grew so close, closer than any summer we've spent together. And to know that we're just going to grow back apart anyways.

I feel a small tear roll down my left cheek, the saltiness of it burning my skin. There was so many emotions I was feeling at once which made me so overwhelmed that I just was numb. What I do know for sure is that no matter how tough it will be to keep this relationship going I won't stop trying to make this relationship work.

He slams the trunk door shut quite loudly making me bite my lip realizing it was because he doesn't want to leave either. And is trying to take out his anger on regular things that have to be shut hard in his attempt to try and disguise it. But instead, I see right through his actions.

He walks over to me with tearfilled eyes and immediately wraps his arms around me hugging me tightly.

"I can't leave you..." He sobs into my neck. It hurts me to see him like this and I wish I could do something about it but I really can't.

"And also...I have something for you yn," he grabs out a necklace and places it in my hand, "don't open it until I'm gone, okay?" he waits for me to answer and I return him a quick nod.

He gives one last tight squeeze and long kiss before he has to leave. While opening the door he turns and waves at me while blowing a kiss. He turns back around and sits down into the seat. His driver slowly backs out of the driveway, and I see the faint outline of Heeseung's hand in the tinted window and I give a small wave back.

Since he is gone, I take out the necklace he gave me and take a further look at it. It's a heart shaped necklace and it has an opening; I open the heart and see a photo of us together from a long time ago.

But I notice something about the photo it's the summer of us when we were kids, but the specific day is when he kissed me. I now remember it all so clearly, the memories of us when we were out swimming in the ocean, and he "accidentally" kissed me.

I went out to deep in the ocean and couldn't swim very well so he had to swim out and rescue me. While bringing me back to shore he pressed a soft and short kiss on my lips he claimed that he "slipped on one of the rocks" but I always knew he was lying. Which I found super cute and adorable of him and it's also how I realized my true feelings and really understood who they were for. And of course it was for Heeseung.

I look next to the photo on my necklace and spot some writing on it. The words say,

To my one true love, who made me realize what love is actually like. I’ve always liked you more than you ever knew. In the end I’ve always wanted it to be. I love you so much yn. It’s you, it’s always been and always will be.

From: Lee Heeseung ♡︎

He went in and out of my life just like a summer breeze.

#topichoon #enhypen #enha #kpop bg #enhypen fluff #kpop #kpop enhypen #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha fluff #enhypen smau #enhypen au #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung smut

[0xstarzx0]

LONG TIME

Rafe x Virgin readers

synopsis: When you develop strong feelings for Rafe and he rejects you decide to take you in hand but the Cameron is not of the same opinion

[English is not my native language.❗️❗️]

tw: smut, jealousy, insult, fingering, sex . ______________________________________

You cried, you knew that love was unreciprocal. Yet you had hoped so hard that you were wrong.

You’ve known Rafe since you were little, you grew up with him and despite that, you’re two totally opposite people.

Rafe was the type to be open to others, he flirted, slept with girls and you were his opposite.

You only talked to Rafe, Topper and Kelce. You didn’t hit on each other, and when someone did, you didn’t know how to react.

Rafe told you his experiences and you were a little jealous of them girls.

You loved him since you were in elementary school, you weren’t good at expressing your actuons properly with him, but everyone suspected you were in love with him. And of course it was always him who denied.

When one night he came to your house, you let him in. Rafe settled in your bed and you joined him.

you put your head on his chest and said nothing, he started playing with your hair. He always did it when he was upset or sad.

"Why is he like that with me?" to ask, his voice was no louder than a whisper but, you could hear his sadness through her. you looked up and met his eyes, you couldn’t decipher how he felt. You looked down. I don’t know, Rafey, but he’s your dad, he’d do anything for you... You know that?".

Rafe heaves a heavy sigh and without warning you, he grabs your arms and draws your head to his. you get carried away and don’t move, you like to feel serenity with him. "I love you Rafe." you say calmly. I love you too Y/N" he answers.

"No, I really love you, Rafe."

Rafe’s breath is taking a few seconds before you realize what you just said.

You get up from Rafe and don’t dare look at him. You promised yourself never to tell him for fear of breaking your friendship. You just ruined everything.

"What did you just say?" Rafe asks you, you clear your throat and start playing with your hands. 

"I love you, Rafe… more than just a friend…" You hear his swear before he getting up.

He starts pacing in your room, putting his hand in his hair. "You can’t do that to me, you know, I hope?"

"I didn’t choose that Rafe…" "Fuck Y/N you’re the last person I want to go out with!" your ego takes a hit. You knew he didn’t like you, but not that much.

You say nothing and lower your head, you feel the tears pouring down your cheeks. You hear the door slammed severely and when you raise your head, there is no one.

You burst into tears like a child, it was your first sorrow of love and in addition it was bad.

you got up to take all the things that remind you of its existence and you all threw away, photo, clothes everything.

but you felt even worse when you saw a picture of yourself and him in a photo booth, you remember you were on his lap because of the small space, you kissed his cheek for one of the photos and he ran his head in his neck for another.

You felt bad and guilty.

______________________________________________

The days that followed you avoided the boys, too embarrassed. You knew Rafe must have told them about, your altercation with him.

And you weren’t happy when you saw your cousin Ariana in your room on a Sunday morning with more than ten suitcases.

She was beautiful, much more than you and that, you don’t know if you could bear it.

You decided to spend your vacation in your bed feeling down but with Ariana around, and her melanin raising her tan had to be flawless.

It wasn’t a problem until she decided your huge garden wasn’t well placed to sunbathe, so she took you back to the beach for your greatest misfortune.

You who never liked to show your body you had come straight to hell.

Doing all of his things that you weren’t used to did only annoy you even more.

______

You were reading your novel when she came into your room excited, you asked Sarah to take care of her if she just had a day that couldn’t take it anymore.

She throws a bag at you from a shop you didn’t know. You raise an eyebrow and she explains:

"We’re going out tonight to take a shower and put on what I bought you, I’ll fuck you and smooth your hair by what you look like Mrs Crumble in Daybreak."

 she raising her top to expose her chest smaller than yours, you would love to have hers, you no longer tell the story of how many times Rafe fought what weird guys looked at your breast for too long.

"I don’t want to" you say when you put the bag on the floor." I don’t give a shit you get up, if I get attacked it’ll be because you’re not there, you got thirty minutes." She’s going to your bathroom, so you have to use the shared bathroom.

______________________________________________

"Stop fidgeting," Ariana says, "I let you straighten my hair, put on my makeup, and now you make me wear a dress like this?" what?" said she offended." I chose it for you!"

The dress that Ariana had chosen for you was white, it was transparent at the level of your breasts and had a small slit on the side, it was not even halfway to your thighs it was short and the hips that you did not really help. So yes, you didn’t like that dress.

Ariana gently grabs your hand and you look at her "I swear to God, if anyone makes a comment about your body or your dress I’ll kill it, okay?"

She gave you a sincere smile and you just smiled back.

______________________________________________

You had arrived with Ariana at the party, you didn’t know where she was until you realized it was at Topper’s! your heart thought it exploded when you walked through the door.

Ariana wanted to drink, so when she started wanting to take you to drinks you refused, why? by the fact that the landmark of the three kooks was near the drinking table, it is there that we find the most beautiful girls.

You were waiting on your phone in a corner of the house for Ariana to come back when someone shoved you, you do not raise your head to make you small but the person recognized you. Y/N it’s you? damn it!" you raise your head and see Kelce.

"Hey, Kelce, it’s been a long time." You say embarrass. "A little while ago!" He laughs and puts his arm on your shoulders, you try to get rid of his grip without him realizing it but without result.

"Guys guess who I found!" he said cheerfully drawing attention to you.

You turn the rete and look one by one at the people sitting, your eyes meet those of Rafe but it quickly breaks the contact to detail you, it blocks on your breasts little veiled. You barely have the temos to readjust your glasses as Topper jumps at you.

He squeezes you so hard that if he continues he will crush you "We ghoster it was not cool," he said while letting you go. You apologize and notice a new figure arrived

a girl a little taller than you with short hair and a beautiful chest with beautiful hips, quite the opposite of you.

She says hello to no one and goes to sit on the rafe legs, he approaches his head from his ear and whispers something to her. She laughs and kisses him. Your belly turns and you feel your heart being destroyed little by little.

"Y/N I’ve been looking for you for ten minutes, if you don’t move your ass, I swear you’re sleeping on the floor tonight!" said Ariana, joining you.

You wave at everyone and Ariana walks beside you, you take her red cup and the wood in dry ass, she looks at you shocked. "Tonight we better have fun" you demand from Ariana.

She smiles at you and takes you to the dance floor.

______________________________________________

It must be at least three hours since you got here, you stopped counting how many drinks you drank from the fifth, you’re still dancing alone this time by what Ariana, found a fool by the pool leaving you alone.

you make sensual movements alone when hands land on your hips you do not remove them and continue to stick tight with a stranger.

Suddenly he grabs your hand and tries to drag you, you follow him until you realize he’s trying to take you upstairs, where all the rooms are. You struggle but nothing does it is much stronger than you.

You tell him you don’t want to but he always holds your hands firmly until your is called away, the person calling you uses a firm tone and you turn your head to come face to face with Rafe.

The guy stops and Rafe raises an eyebrow, you barely stand up and your glasses are badly put on, your right breasts and has two fingers out of your cleavage and your glasses are badly put on.  Rafe has to admit it if he could, he’ll fuck you doggy-style in front of everyone to show who you belong to.

Rafe casts an evil glance at the stranger who peews the escape as fast as he can, leaving you in front of Rafe playing with your hands.

You smile at the frog you just made with your hands.

You raise your head and Rafe has her eyes on you, his eyes filled with lust compared to yours which are as innocent as a doe. you put your hands in front of his face "look I made a frog" you smile and he grabs your hand and takes you upstairs.

you do not dispute and follow him like a nice girl, he opens a room to the nose and once inside, he attacks your lips by kissing them aggresively, Rafe hungry, hungry for you. And when your body accidentally sticks to yours. Rafe wants to fuck you.

He pushes you on the bed, you fall on your back, he takes off his teeshirt." If you don’t stop staring at me with his eyes I swear I’ll make you come so much that everyone will hear you scream my name, darling."

You accidentally bite your lower lip, grab on the bed and start to approach you, you step back and your back finds the head of the bed. Rafe laughs before catching your thighs firmly. He gets in between and starts lifting ra dress, his cock becomes painful when he sees your purple panties

He starts kissing your belly and then comes down slowly, he kisses your thighs and gets closer and closer to your pussy you moan so hard while he hasn’t even started.

he starts kissing your pussy through your panties, he can swear he can feel you dripping. "Rafe.." You moan " Yes ma'am?" "Please, touch me." You managed to ask. Rafe takes off your panties and his tongue starts sucking your clitoris, you moan so hard just for that, if rafe gives you his cock you’ll scream?

Rafe passes his tongue between your soaked folds, your taste on his tongue, he will become addicted! he sucks your clitoris when he pushes a finger inside you. You scream his name, so if he starts to move his fingers in you, he remembers you’re a virgin.

His dick wants you, you want it too you just don’t say it. You feel your orgasm coming when rafe withdraws, you frown and he starts to take off his shorts and then, his shorts. You look with amazement at his huge cock, he took it in hand and jerked it off

"It’s never going to come home, Rafe!" you say with fear. "It’s going to come home trust me." He starts rubbing it against your folds and sinks his pin inside you, you moan. Your moan gives him the strength to push violently inside you. You scream and your hands cling to the sheets. He starts slowly he leans over you and you drop the sheets and grab his biceps. "You’re so fucking tight!" He’s groaning in your ear, his kidney squeals other times quiet and slow is accelerating, he’s getting more violent and you’re screaming in pain. Rafe please stop! you’re hurting me!" You yell Rafe continues her violent push " wrap your legs around my waist, it will hurt less! "

you listen to his advice and the pain subsides but he continues to plow you, he insults you with all the names "You take so well my dick bitch!" if I take myself away from you is what you will put me under for my dick like the bitch you are!"

you stick your head in his neck, his push is hard to take and when he hits you 85% and in your G-spot. Your orgasm comes and you scream are name- It’s not like you did it all the time or he destroyed you- He doesn’t stop his thrusts are orgasm is not far last you but the tears rise you, he is too hard and his hard to bear.

when he finally ejaculates in you , he screams your name. he takes off from you and your pussy feels alone, comle if it had just lost life . Rafe grabs his phone and positions it above you, you ask him what he is doing and he simply answers you: "You are the most beautiful thing I have seen at the moment does not ruin everything. he said while kissing you.

______________________________________________

the next morning you wake up in the same room as the day before, this time alone. You take your things and start walking out of the room as calmly as possible so you don’t wake up. "Y/N you don’t have breakfast with us?" You jump and turn the rete to notice Rafe, Kelce and Topper were watching you. Kelce and Topper show a smirk.

"Should I go home sorry guys next time maybe?" Rafe gets up and walks up to you he bends over and captures your lips in a quick kiss "I’ll get dressed and walk you home" he begins to climb the stairs leaving you with the two acolytes.

"Since the time of course you can tell us how it was? " said kelce bringing you the seat next to him. you limp and sit next to them "He didn’t go there with soft hands says Topper"

______________________________________________ .

.

.

.

#dark!rafe #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴘɪᴘᴇᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ (J.M)

*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*

Pairing: football-player!Joel Miller x golden-girl!Fem!Reader

POV: This story is told through the POV of high school senior Joel Miller

Summary: Joel's girl lives in his dreams and in the house next door. He's always known her, and he's always wanted her, but in ApplePine, whose dream does she not haunt? Now He has a chance that He's been looking forward to all his life. This can't fail. He won't let someone like her slip away.

Warnings/tags: Kind of toxic undertones, mentions of a bad home life (reader), church, idolization, nerves, kissing and making out, small Texas town with very traditional values, climbing and watching people through windows, Joel is a Lil bit of a stalker, BAD American football talk. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 4.5k

On most Saturdays and after church on Sundays, she could be found working at the local ice cream shop. Occasionally, if there wasn't a football game, she would also work on Fridays. She was a well-known figure in our small town - being the girl next door, head cheerleader, and leading member of the student council. Her many accomplishments included winning the title of Little Miss Apple Pine, which only added to her popularity. Many of us admired her from afar, watching her ride her bike with friends, interact with the little kids in the neighborhood, or simply be in her element with a book in hand and a Walkman playing some music.

It was difficult to tell what music she listened to, but I'd like to think it was hard rock, maybe Guns N' Roses. However, her sweet nature suggested it was more likely to be Bon Jovi or AC/DC. Despite her bright persona, we all knew that she had a tough time at home, our houses were right next to each other too It was sad but there's only so much a loud TV can cover.

We attend the same school and ride the same bus together. We have chemistry class as well as lunch B together. Additionally, we share gym and math classes. I have noticed that she is quieter in math class and doesn't answer questions as quickly. In math class, she sits three seats ahead of me, and during lunch, she sits six seats away from me. Her round lunch table is located ten tables away from mine, and it's always occupied by a few cheerleaders and jocks who are considered acceptable, unlike me who often gets thrown off the field for hitting refs because of not knowing if  I'm coming or going. Compared to them, she seems to be in another world, like a cool autumn day in the middle of a hot Texas summer.

As the chemistry class began, Mr. McMory walked into the classroom with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. He had only undone the top button of his shirt, showing some long curly grey chest hairs — utterly gross if you ask me. We all watched as he walked to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. He clasped his hands together behind his back and stopped before turning to face the class.

"Now, as most of you probably know, we will need to form a new set of lab partners for this semester. However, to keep things fair so everyone gets a chance of getting matched with whom You would prefer, I've decided to have you all write your names on a small piece of paper and put them in this box. Once I've finished passing them out, I will draw two student names from the box at random, and those two will be your partners for this semester."

Without having to pause, Mr. McMory spoke clearly. This routine was something he did every marking period, four times a year, for 30 years. The memories of the previous marking period memories flooded my mind, where Jason Duly and Billy Holiday tried to bribe Gaby Michelle to give up her seat so that they could sit next to our classmate, the charming "I trust that you all understand the process now?" Mr. McMory continued. Once no one raised their hands to question what he said, he walked back to the front and handed out the small pieces of paper to everyone. "Now you have two minutes to write your names on the paper, then place it into the box. Once you are all finished, I will begin the randomized selection."

Chaos began to take place across the room with various bets being placed and trades being arranged like a market in the middle of a jungle, I wrote my name on the slip of paper without a thought. It was a meaningless task to me, as I would have been fine with getting anyone as my lab partner. In the middle sat our Pipe Dream, seemingly clueless to it all, while these students scrambled like mad to gain the favor of their desired partners, and the professor seemed unaware of all the action taking place in the classroom.

The chaos of the class was suddenly drowned out by Mr. McMory yelling out to have students start putting their slips into the box. As the box was quickly getting more and more full, the class started to become more and more silent and calm as no one wanted to be one of the ones not getting the partner they wanted even if they all wanted the same one our darling Miss pipedream isn't only perfect in every way but she's also incredibly smart.

Mr. McMory walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of the whiteboard. He held the box and a red whiteboard marker. "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement," he said as he paused and placed the box on a stool in front of him. He then pulled out the first two names. "Gaby and Hannah," he announced, causing a small gasp from some students. Mr. McMory placed the paper down and wrote the names on the board. There was a moment of silence before a low murmur began to spread throughout the classroom Mr. McMory then pulled out another two slips from the box and announced the next pairs of names: "Billy and Jillian, Jason and Cory." As each pair was announced, the two people were immediately surrounded by cheers of excitement or groans of disappointment. Some students could be overheard saying things like "no way!" and "I can't believe this!" and "Are we sure it's fair?" There were a few complaints here and there that their partner was not who they wanted, but Mr. McMory quickly cut them off, saying, "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement, understood?"

As I stood watching the chaos break loose behind me, I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly everything was unfolding. However, my laughter came to a sudden halt when Mr. McMory announced me and a stranger as partners.No, not a stranger, It was the girl who seemed to have it all, the girl who had effortlessly made her way through every aspect of the school and had become something of a legend. She was the girl next door, the one every boy wanted, and the only one I was enamored with at the slightest glance in her direction. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over the crowd and saw her smiling brightly at me. Time seemed to slow down as the rest of the world faded away. It was as if the universe was just waiting for us to get to know each other. My nervousness quickly turned into an adrenaline rush as I became more and more excited. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, a chance to turn my dreams into reality and finally figure her out.

On the bus, I noticed her again. We made eye contact but didn't speak. She sat with her friend Sally Handson until she got off at her stop. However, I didn't expect her to move over and sit in the same seat as me.

"You're Joel, right?" she asked me before kindly offering her hand to shake.

"That's me," I smiled as I gently took her hand in mine and shook it. Our skin connected, and I felt a slight tremor in my hand before letting go, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. I looked back up to see her, and she seemed to be just as nervous as I felt. The silence seemed to linger on for a moment before she spoke again.

"I just wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look at the assignment yet?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. "No, actually, I'm not very good at chemistry. I was probably going to copy off of you, to tell you the truth," I said, trying to make a joke, but struggling to hide the fact that it was true.

She smiled brightly, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Like all football players. It's okay though, I can help you study sometime if you'd like?"

As she spoke, my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. The offer of her help flooded my mind with different scenarios, from spending time with her after school to studying together at the library or even hosting study groups at our houses. I chuckled nervously and nodded my head.

The sudden stop of the bus snapped me back to reality, and a thought raced through my mind. Should I ask to walk her home? The offer seemed so appealing, and I was filled with possibilities of getting to know her even better. It was time to take the chance, but I had to fight the nervousness building inside me.

"Hey, are you walking to your house? Because I was just going to ask if...if I could walk you home?" I spoke the words carefully, fearing that I might mess up and ruin the moment. I fiddled with the straps of my backpack, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I waited for her response.

She smiled kindly at me. "Yes, and I would love that. Do you know which house?"

"I do," I said with a slightly more confident tone than before. I felt myself calming down as the idea of walking home together became more real. She began to take in the neighborhood around us, and I thought it was a perfect time to start a conversation.

"So, this is where you live?"

She giggled, and her laughter was infectious. I couldn't help but smile. "Joel, you and I have lived in the same neighborhood since we were newborns. We're neighbors for goodness sake, no need to be so formal with me."

She was right; I was overthinking our interactions. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember. "Oh yeah...I suppose you have a point. I guess my nervousness made me go blank like that. I'm just not used to seeing you when you're not out on the field with your cheer squad." I chuckled, feeling my nerves die down even more as I looked over at her and relaxed a bit more.

"I understand it's hard not to picture me like that, and you as well, Joel. You're violent on the field. I'm pretty sure that referee from Tentown had a broken nose," she tries to make conversation. 

The mention of the game in Tentown makes me chuckle a bit. That was the first game in the league where I was allowed to play, and I suppose my desire to prove myself ended with me getting a bit carried away. The thought of the ref's nose makes me chuckle a bit more as I couldn't help but feel bad for the ref. 

"Yeah, I think you're right about that. But that's just how it is, right? The game is pretty brutal. I can't play without getting a little carried away." 

She thinks for a second and then says, "Maybe that's why you're always benched, along with Tommy? Speaking of your brother, where is he? Oh, and how are poor freshmen? I heard the older football players are being a little mean."

The question about my benching for games suddenly brings back my nervous energy, and I immediately feel uncomfortable talking about it. "That's probably one of the reasons for it, yeah..." I sigh as the mention of my brother and some of the team's hazing of the freshman brings a frown to my face.

"It pisses me off how they treat some of the freshmen like that. I don't see why they can't just treat them like the rest of the team..." I pause mid-sentence as the thought comes to my mind.

"I feel so bad for the poor freshman. They do the same thing on the cheer team," she said. We stopped at the crossing signal, and I was surprised by how well she could relate to what I was describing. It dawned on me that she may have experienced it more than I had considering how involved she is in cheer. We waited for the light to turn green, and I smiled at her.

"We should set up a study date sometime soon. After all, you said you're not that good at chemistry?" she said as we got closer to her house. I was thrilled at the possibility of spending more time with her.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll certainly need the help," I chuckled. She walked ahead of me with a sweet little glide in her step, making me have to catch up to her as we continued walking.

"Which days work for you?" she asked, opening her backpack and taking out a pen and paper. "Oh, and write down your landline number." I replied, "I'm pretty much free all week, so just let me know what works for you." Her request for my landline number made my heart skip a beat as it reminded me of when she offered to help me at her place.

"How about Friday after school since there's no game? We can meet at my place," she suggested as we stood outside her front gate. "That works great for me! We can discuss our study plans and maybe even study together if you're up for it," I replied excitedly. "Your place sounds perfect, and I just want to say thank you," I added, feeling grateful for her help. She smiled and said, "Of course, Joel." Then she walked into her yard and house, waving goodbye.

Friday couldn't come any quicker in my mind. I couldn't get Miss Applepine, Cheery Pie, Pipe Dream out of my head at all. The more we talked in class, the more I fell under her spell and the more I wanted to know... She was a mystery, and I wanted to be the first to hear everything she was willing to tell.

now stand at her front door. I rang the doorbell eagerly waiting for her to answer. She opened the door; she looked so pretty. "Come on in, Joel," she opened the door to let me in. In all my years of being neighbors, I always wondered what her house looked like, and to be honest, her house is less organized than I thought.

"Sorry about the mess. You know, it's just me and my dad, and I'm a little behind on chores... um... studying," she began to ramble but stopped herself. It was rather cute; it made me smile even more.

"Come on upstairs to my room. I have all my books and everything up there," she led me up to her bedroom. It was so normal - band posters, photos of her family, school items, her numerous awards, and her window looked directly into my room.

As we entered her room, I couldn't resist glancing over to her window again. It felt like this was the closest I could get to seeing inside her home for A Long time and now I'm inside the looking glass. I took a seat right next to her bed as she went to her bookshelf to collect her textbooks. As we started reviewing the material, a wave of butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I occasionally stole a glance at her while she flipped through different articles, but I couldn't hold my stare for long.

"Are these all the books we're going to be using?" I asked as she placed her biology and chemistry books on her desk. I watched her lean over, her eyes almost glued to the books as she read through them. "Yeah, these are the ones. I just want to make sure that we're both prepared for this project. It's about how we think the universe began, so lots to cover" she replied with a soft smile that brought me back to reality for a moment as I gazed into her eyes.

"I'm ready to start studying. So, what do you want to start with?" she asked as I sat down. She looked at me with a sweet smile and thought for a moment before responding, "Do you think we should start with chemistry? I know it's the one you struggle with the most."

"Sure, that works," I replied excitedly she remembered that from the walk my cheeks got a little pink as I opened the book and looked over her shoulder to find the section she had mentioned. I was determined to pay close attention this time, feeling more relaxed thanks to her calm and collected presence.

Every little gesture or movement she made caught my full attention like a spark in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she played with her hair made it difficult to resist complimenting her. When she asked if she could ask me something, it snapped me out of my trance for a moment. I replied with a simple "Yeah, sure."

As she playfully hit my shoulder, her touch felt light as a feather. I couldn't help but smile, sitting up and crossing my legs like she was doing. Moving my book from my lap, I placed it on the end of her bed. "Why can't you focus?" she asked, and my heart started racing. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I lied, "No reason..." Trying to act casual, I could feel myself blushing as she hit my shoulder and called me out. It was because of her - her sweet smile, small gestures, and the way she sat cross-legged on her bed - that I couldn't focus. But I couldn't just outright admit that I had a massive crush on her.

"We can take a break?" she offered, and I felt even more nervous. The idea of taking a break meant a chance to talk about things other than studying and a chance to just hang out with her. I was hoping that she felt the same way and that she also couldn't help but notice the tension that was building between us. I sat back up and joked, "You're saying that as if I would deny the offer." My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel the same tension I did.

As we continued to talk, I made sure to continue moving closer to her every chance that I could get. The heat coming from her body filled me with a new sense of boldness as I tried to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean who can blame me, when I'm sitting across from someone so charming..." I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"Have you been studying for long?" she asked me as she laid back on her bed, making it clear that she had no plans to get up anytime soon. As the conversation shifted towards more flirtatious topics, I started to blush slightly. "Do you mean studying?..." I replied to her, but even I could hear that my voice had taken on a flirty tone.

"Yes, studying, or are you just as brain-dead as the other football players?" she joked. "Hey now, what are you implying?" I responded teasingly as I moved closer to her. As we talked more, the tone of the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, and I struggled to hold back my blush. "You're the one who keeps saying we should take a break. Sounds like you don't want to study..." I said, trying to pretend to focus on a book.

But even as we continued discussing the material or pretending to, I noticed her eyes drifting toward me as she glanced up and down my body. It made me feel a little uneasy, but also excited as I wondered what she was thinking. Could she feel the same tension between us that I felt?

"Hmmm, maybe I don't. But you're the one who said yes to the break." she grinned mischievously as I scooted slightly closer to her, looking up and staring into her eyes. "You make it kind of hard to pay attention..."

As we continued to talk The heat coming from her body filled me with a sense of boldness as I attempted to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean, who can blame me when I'm sitting across from someone so charming?" I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"I'm flattered. I'll take that as a compliment since you're also very kind with your words," she said as I moved even closer to her. We were almost too close for comfort, but I couldn't resist getting even closer. "I thought I was charming, but you are even more charming than I imagined," I told her, leaning in even closer until I was practically touching her. I felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes seemed to be blushing, and I felt a sudden burst of confidence. I brought my hand up to her side, almost touching her waist. "You are an interesting girl," I whispered.

"You find me interesting?" she asked, smiling shyly and looking down. I could tell she was blushing and feeling a little embarrassed, but I decided to take a risk and leaned in even closer. Our faces were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my face. I looked up at her and felt a rush of emotions.

"I didn't know you were so easy to read," I said as I leaned even closer to her, this time the tiny distance between us was nothing but air. I couldn't help but feel that feeling building inside me again as I watched her face grow redder and redder as it appeared to be a little closer every time. "I'm sure most guys would be more than happy to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”

“Are you most guys? Should I be worried? I'm not a one-and-done girl, Joel…” she said, showing insecurity for what seems to be the first time. As she asked me if I was 'most guys', I couldn't help but feel my heart sink for a brief second as I heard her insecurity, but I quickly recovered and smiled as I looked down at her. My hands slowly wrapped around her waist as I leaned even closer. "Oh please, you think I'm going to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you just like that. You aren't a one-and-done girl, you're... you're an angel." I slowly leaned forward so our faces were just a hair's width apart. I gazed into her eyes, lost in the moment, when she suddenly exclaimed, "An Angel?" Her voice was soft, yet full of wonder, as if she had just seen something magical. She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face, and I couldn't help but notice the way her face immediately flushed up with red. Her eyes quickly looked down, as if to distract herself from her sudden burst of emotion.

I kept looking at her, waiting for her to look back up at me. I leaned down just a bit more, my heart racing with anticipation, as my lips were barely an inch from hers when she finally decided to look back up. I couldn't help but feel the surge of joy rushing through my body as I saw the way her eyes slowly opened and she looked back up to face me.

The way her cheeks were still flushed and the shy, but happy look on her face was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect moment as I leaned in for the kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and simple embrace, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in the world except for that moment. I held her close as we kissed, and I knew deep down inside that this was the start of something special.

The kiss started gentle but with each second that passed it started to become more intense. The heat of her body and the way her hands ran through my hair was making my heart skip a few beats as I started to wish I could pull her into an even deeper kiss. I didn't want to overwhelm her though so I tried to keep it simple, although it was hard to keep my hands from finding every part of her body that I could. She's not someone who wants a one-time thing and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't think all I want is sex.

We disengaged when we heard her front door slam shut. "That's my dad!" she exclaimed, her urgency evident. "He can't know you're here." She swiftly rose, pulling me up with her, both of us breaking away from the kiss as she hurried us along. Her pace was so brisk that it took a moment for me to catch on before I scrambled up. "Why can't he know I'm here?" I whispered, trying to avoid any noise as her dad ascended the stairs.

"Because he'll flip if he finds a guy in my room. Though, it's not like it's the first time I've had a guy over," she rushed, steering us towards her bedroom window. "Seriously? You've done this before?" I questioned? but that conversation could wait as we reached her bedroom window, which she promptly opened, urging me outside.

"Well, there was this one time Dad caught me, and he nearly lost it. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he dropped it," she explained hurriedly, her insistence on getting me out the window starting to concern me. I trusted she knew what she was doing, but I wasn't quite prepared for what came next.

"Are you seriously making me climb out your window?" I protested.

"Don't be a wimp. You'll be fine. You're not the first guy I've had over," she reassured, though her words didn't ease my nerves. The distance from her window to the ground seemed to grow as she tugged me closer to the edge.

As I began to climb out, my foot slipped, and I fell with a hard thud and a loud squeak.

Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle, the walk home afforded me ample time to ponder, and my thoughts continuously circled back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, as if she was keeping something from me. If she's had numerous guys over before, why the sudden worry about her dad catching her? Was I just another casual fling to her? My mind brimmed with inquiries for my elusive "little miss pipedream."

#joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #younger!joel #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #dark joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel the last of us #the last of us #tlou au #tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou hbo #joel miller fluff #joel miller oneshot #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrohub #sinfulmindjoyfulthoughts #fanfic #my writing

[mcntsee]

Shooting star

Summary: You spot a shooting star, close your eyes tight, make a wish, and hope it comes true.

Warnings: Angst.

Note: This is not my favorite work, but I saw a shooting star today and just had to write something.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kaz wasn't certain what had brought him here in the first place, nor did he have an inkling as to why they were having this conversation.

"It's not foolish; it's a shooting star!"

Yet, deep down, he acknowledged it might have been his heart’s silent plea to remain close to her, willing to follow her anywhere, even through the depths of hell.

"It's not even a star."

"Quiet and let me make a wish."

He couldn't fathom it. Watching her squeeze her eyes shut so tightly, he wondered if she wasn't seeing stars.

Despite finding her actions silly, he couldn't bring himself to extinguish the twinkle in her eyes.

So he waited until she opened her eyes again. "I've seen you take down multiple men, yet you believe a rock will make your wishes come true."

“There’s people out there that can stop our hearts with a mere gesture.”

Not to mention those born destined to become Saints.

"I believe a rock entering the atmosphere could make a wish come true."

He recalled his mum mentioning shooting stars a couple of times. Just like Y/N, she had mimicked the same actions. Whatever his mum had wished for, he never discovered.

“Has it ever?”

“What?”

“Has a wish ever come true?”

“Yes. One.”

He wanted to laugh. How unfair it seemed that she could find happiness in a rock when he, as a child, had been let down by the so-called shooting stars multiple times. But he didn’t.

“What was it?”

“To be saved.”

If Kaz was known for anything other than the dreadful things he could do for the right price, it was for always having a retort. This time, however, he didn’t. So he listened.

“I was hungry, angry, cold and sad. And I saw one.”

She could recall that day vividly, as if it were yesterday. Granted, it had only been a couple of years, but she was certain she would never forget it.

“I wished someone would come and save me.”

She had closed her eyes tightly, her father’s voice echoing in her head, reminding her of the countless times he had taken her stargazing.

The day they saw a shooting star, her father had told her to make a wish. She had.

Sometimes she still wonders if the reason why her father died was was because she had shared her wish with her friend. If the Saints viewed it as breaking a rule and twisted her dream into a nightmare.

“Next day, you found me.”

“I think that’s called luck, love.”

“We don’t get lucky, Kaz.”

Kaz hummed. A silence enveloped them both, and he wondered what she had wished for. To live for many years? To always have money? Perhaps she had wished for love or to leave this city behind.

“You should try it.”

“I don’t rely on rocks for my wishes to manifest.”

With a sigh, she stood up. For a moment, Kaz yearned to grasp her hands and implore her to stay, to convey that he would, just to keep her from leaving. Yet, he hesitated, and that brief pause was all she needed to vanish.

“And, I already have my shooting star.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kaz never would have imagined that the next time he returned to this spot, it would be without her by his side.

He never anticipated the overwhelming emptiness that would consume him—the ache in his heart echoing the memory of her laughter and the beauty of her eyes whenever his mind dared to revisit those moments.

It had been so long since he last heard her voice—telling stories, teasing him, attempting to draw laughter from him.

His shooting star was gone, and all the magic she had planted within him was extinguished—ripped away just as she had been.

He felt so alone.

While his mind had been lost in what if’s, his eyes caught the swift movement in the sky—a shooting star, racing faster than the constant wind hitting his face.

He laughed—a laughter laced with pain—as he reminisced about the countless times he had seen Y/N pause, shutting her eyes tight in pursuit of wishes.

Without meaning to, he imitated the same actions he had seen her do countless times, closing his eyes. His wish left his lips in a quiet whisper.

“Come back.”

But she wouldn’t. After all, it wasn’t even a star. Just a rock breaking through the atmosphere.

In the blink of an eye, the shooting star was gone, much like his- his girl, his shooting star.

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader #fanfiction #kaz brekker #angst #oneshot

[annymation]

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 5- The Goat)

This will be the last one of these blogs about the characters. I was stalling on this one because honestly there’s really not much to Valentino in my rewrite.

Will his existence influence the plot tho? Yes, definitely way more than the movie Valentino did… Although that bar isn’t high.

So let’s go, animal companion time!

Personality

- Valentino is a one month old baby goat, a little ball of energy, too pure for this world, doesn’t know basic math and we must protect him at all cost.

- His main gimmick is that he follows Asha EVERYWHERE to the point it’s comical, like, I didn’t write him much so far in my rewrite (we’re currently on chapter 3 and he was alive in only 2 of them, so no wonder) but even when I don’t mention him just assume, he’s there… All the time.

- He cares a lot about Asha and sees her as his mother, since well, she technically is, she took care of him all his life (a month).

Main Traits:

- Curious

- Loyal

- Silly

- Innocent

- Determined

Backstory

(Because it wouldn’t be a rewrite of mine if the character didn’t have at least some angst, not even the 1 month old goat is safe from me)

- A month before our story begins, Asha was drawing animals at one of the farms in the kingdom, to practice, when suddenly she heard a new born goat all alone.

- She asked the owners where his parents were at, and they explain they didn’t notice the little guy under the hay earlier, they sold their goats to be exported to a neighboring kingdom.

- Asha felt really sad for him, so she asked to buy him, the farmer said she could keep him for free, taking care of baby goats without a mama goat around was too much trouble anyway, Asha was basically doing them a favor.

- Valentino obviously doesn’t know all that, but even if you told him it’s not like he’d care, he sees Asha as his mama and that’s all that matters.

- He’s very thankful for her taking care of him, getting him a nice sweater and a cozy little bed… He wishes he could thank her.

Which leads us to:

This Book

- So hear me out, there’s this kids book, “The Grateful Goat”, about Valentino, and it’s adorable, it’s my main inspiration for his rewrite.

- In this book we follow Valentino trying to communicate something to Asha and her friends, but they can’t understand him, since we’ll, he’s a goat.

- They try over and over to guess what he wants but nothing makes him stop bleating.

- Then, once Star came down and granted his wish, it turns out all he wanted to say was “Thank you”

Oh

That

That’s cute, I like that.

- Imagine this, in my rewrite, once Aster does grant Valentino’s wish and makes him talk, it’s a cute scene of Valentino going like:

“THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS TAKING SUCH GOOD CARE OF ME!”

(And he sounds like a child by the way, because that’s how a baby goat should sound like DISNEY)

- Now, am I saying that Valentino is just gonna speak once to say thank you?… Kinda, but not quite.

- You see, Aster’s wish granting magic is only effective on you if you really really REAAALLY want it to be.

- As he makes animals in the forest talk for example, or brings the tress to life, they only remain like that as long as they really want to, and what do you know, turns out most trees are chill just being tress so his magic fades away from them in a short while.

- Valentino’s wish won’t be to permanently talk, he just wanted to thank Asha, so once he’s done doing that Aster’s magic fades away after a few hours.

-… However, some of Aster’s magic remains deep inside of Valentino, so if for whatever reason Valentino reeeeeally wants to communicate something… Something urgent perhaps… Then he regains the ability to speak.

- Oh yes I CREATED TALKING GOAT ON DEMAND! HE ONLY SPEAKS WHEN ITS RELEVANT TO THE PLOT BABEEEEY!!!

- Not gonna lie, I’m really happy with this, because that just means I won’t have to come up with lines for him all the time, he’ll only speak when necessary.

Design

- So. Many. Cute. Designs… AND WE GOT THE WORST ONE GAAAAH DISNEY WHEN I CATCH YOU-

- It’s fine, I’m fine *breathes* we can fix him.

- First of all, he has horns, because believe it or not 1 month old goats already start showing their horns.

- Second, I debated a lot on this but we’re keeping the little sweater, yeah I’m surprised too, I hated it at first (still do hate it in the way that it is in the movie) but then I was informed it’s a reference to how Walt Disney used to put clothes on the animals of his family’s farm when he was a kid, and that’s the type of deep cut and cute reference I wish we had gotten more of.

- But the sweater won’t be so tight on him, like, let it be a little bit more loose, and maybe don’t cover his lower half.

- This concept art I used for the second chapter of my rewrite kinda illustrates it perfectly how I’d like him to be:

- The fluffy tuff of hair, the big eyes, the long ears, the lil horns, it’s perfect, that’s it, that’s our boy. Tho I don’t imagine him being all white, lets say he has some brown spots.

Final Thoughts

This post actually made me really mad because I wrote it all once and it was perfect, but I forgot to save it before closing tumblr, so I lost it all, ughhh why don’t they have auto save on cellphones??

I have plenty of ideas on how to make him more plot relevant than he was in the Disney movie, he won’t be like THE MOST ESSENTIAL CHARACTER OF ALL, definitely not, but little things that he does move the story forward.

If my calculations are correct he’ll most likely be useful on chapter 4 of my rewrite (or chapter 5, cause like, I’m trying to make them a bit shorter)

Not gonna tell how he’s gonna be useful in the story tho cause I think it’s better as a surprise.

A bit of a quick tangent here, but have you guys ever noticed how some Disney animal companions are the opposite of their human friends?

Ariel is brave and curious - Flounder is a coward

Pocahontas is wise and calm - Meeko is a dummy and Flit has anger issues

Alladin is generous - Abu is a kleptomaniac

You get the idea.

We didn’t get that at all in the Wish movie.

I was trying to come up with ideas on how to make Valentino have an opposite trait compared to Asha, but I don’t really know how to incorporate that into the story, oh well, I might just figure out as I go.

Anyway, that’s our goat, hope you like him!

Thank You For Reading!

#disney wish #wish #wish 2023 #wish star #wish asha #wish disney #wish movie #wish rewrite #wish reimagined #wish valentino

[romantichomicide95]

Could you do something where Gojo is jealous? Possibly smut? Or whatever you want.

Gojo x Reader Jealousy

I wanted to make this more fluff but maybe I’m bad at fluff? I hope you like it either way.

“Fuck.” Was the first thought that sprang into your mind when you saw him from across the room. Even though you couldn’t see Satoru’s eyes you knew him well enough to know that anger was written all over his face. Not that it was your doing, you couldn’t help if some random dumb guy was gunna flirt with you. You definitely weren’t reciprocating. However, you really didn’t want him to cause a scene. And knowing your boyfriend, there was a strong possibility that could happen”

“Hey babeeee.” Satoru says, drawing out his words. He’s come up beside you and immediately puts his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Who’s your friend.” He asks, eyeing this guy over his sunglasses.

“Names Takami.” The irritation in Takami’s vpice wasn’t a good sign. If he knew better, if he knew Satoru Gojo, he would know not to piss him off. But he didn’t. He wasn’t a part of your world.

“Well, Takami.” Satoru was in his face now. “This is MY girl you’re trying to talk to. I’ll be nice and give you one chance to fuck off.” You look at Takami with pleading eyes, you couldn’t handle Satoru starting a scene.

“I was just being nice. She was all alone, just wanted to offer her a drink.” Takami says, puffing out his chest. Why were men like this? You thought.

“Interesting, considering she already has one. That I bought her. Now didn’t I tell you to fuck off.” Satoru was in his face now. Which wasn’t good. He was probably at the least 5 inches taller than this guy. You looked at Takami with pleading eyes. “Whatever. I don’t need to deal with this.” He said as he grabbed his drink and walked away.

“Let’s go home. This bar sucks anyway.” Satoru said grabbing your hand in his and leading you to the door. The car ride home was quiet. Music was blaring and Satoru was singing along to every song, like he always did.

“Toruuu why you gotta get all macho man like you did” you ask once you’ve settled into his apartment, throwing a hoodie of his over your head.

“Because baby I was jealous. I don’t like seeing other guys try to hit on you.” He gives you a sad look, peering over his sunglasses at you and pouting. “You’re too pretty, I have to keep them away somehow.”

You roll your eyes. He was such a baby sometimes, a big man baby. But you had to admit, whenever he got jealous or territorial like this you couldn’t help but internally enjoy it, not that you’d ever tell him.

“I could handle it. I respectfully told him thank you and I had a boyfriend when he asked to buy me a drink.” It truly was a small interaction, took less time than Satoru was in the bathroom for.

“I know you can handle it. But I want to handle things for you, you’re my precious little pumpkin can’t let anyone else have you.” he smirks.

“You’re such a…” you start to say.

“Wonderful boyfriend who protects you from asshole creeps and is super handsome?” he cuts you off, fluttering his eyelashes at you. You hit him with a couch pillow and giggle.

“Oh Toru, you definitely are all those things. I can’t ever stay annoyed at you.”

“I know. You could never! It’s impossible to resist my charms.” he pulls you in closer, wrapping you up his big arms. You lay your head on his chest, listening to the litter patter of his heartbeat.

“Yeah. Oh how charming you are Saturo Gojo.” You reach up to give him a peck on the lips. “You’re my knight in shining armor. Protecting me from all the evil doer men at all the bars.” You laugh, snuggling in closer to his chest. Feeling the warmth of him and inhaling the all too familiar but comforting scent. “Let’s watch a movie Toru.”

“Let’s. But only if you let me cuddle you the whole time.” He says leaning down and placing kisses all over your face.

“Of course Toru. I couldn’t think of anything better to do.”

#gojou satoru x you #saturo gojo #gojo x reader #saturo gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu maiden #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo

[luvyurself]

from a cat into a dog

IM SORRY IF THE ENDING SUCKS AUGHHHH

part two of my last story here

c/w: she/her pronouns, implied child experimenting/employee experimenting ig, bigger bodies initiative snatches five kids and two adults (not clickbait), rushed ending

I tired my best to included the kids before they got turned into the smiling critters but AUGHHH

________

everyday was the same routine: wake up at six in the morning, freshen up, put on her work uniform, stick a breakfast sandwich in her mouth, kiss her mom goodbye, make her way to work, and get into the parking lot of playtime co. at around 6:45.

she wishes the playcare was more easily accessible, going from the toy train to the cart-ride while listening to the same automated introduction to playcare was starting to become irritating.

she basically had that whole thing memorized by now.

she sits in the trolly seat, looking out the tinted windows to the vast emptiness of the underground around them. why would they built this whole thing underground anyway? she even heard one employee share the same thought as her, she wonders if these kids even know of the outside world anyways.

these past few weeks have been the same, except a lot more children seemed to get adopted more. which is weird because she and the other employees around her never gotten informed when each kid would be picked up.

what’s even more weirder was that the kids never talked about getting adopted either. and these kids could not keep anything a secret.

even when she had to keep up with the rules of not interacting with the children, they just seemed to tell her and the other caretakers nearly everything that happened in their secluded lifestyle.

timothy was one of them. a hyper kid, always seemed to be getting some bumps or bruises (she started keeping a package of bandages after the third time he scrapped his knee), and never knew how to keep a secret.

he would run to of her, stop suddenly and give his one missing tooth smile, and point to some random kid saying, “they have a crush on that kid!” and run off with some other kids chasing after him, yelling incoherent nonsense about how he’s a ‘tattletale’ or something like that.

it was funny to watch, she would give a small smile as she watched the boys play fight, the girls act out some fairytale adventure, or some of the more reclusive kids either draw or play with toys to themselves.

timothy played with this girl, layla, who was just as hyperactive as he was. she was one of the rougher girls, but she loved secretly playing dress up with a few of her dolls she had in her shared room.

she remembered the little freckled girl pointing at her when she told her that ‘tippity top secret’, her cheeks puffed out and saying she better not tell anyone about her ‘soft side’.

kids were funny in many ways.

she remembered timothy sulking a bit when layla was adopted, pouting and sitting on the fake grass.

they hung out almost everyday, it was pretty sad to see him so bummed out over losing his best friend. she managed to sneakily talk to him about it, giving him words of comfort on how he’ll probably see her real soon.

that slightly made him perk up, especially when she slipped a small candy to him and put a finger to her mouth in a shushing motion. he giggled and gave his little grin, “maybe when I get adopted, me and layla can play all day long again!”

she hoped that was the case, as three days later, timothy was gone from the playcare.

she can’t help but feel a jab in her heart when the kids she talks to leave to get adopted. they were all so sweet and fun to watch and talk too.

especially two little girls who took decided they wanted to sit where she was watching the kids play.

delilah was this shy girl who spent most of her time drawing with markers, glitter, crayons and colored pencils. she would sit in the same spot theo sat before he left, silently drawing or politely asking for more colors.

the next girl was sophie, and that kid was a hugger. she would come to her everyday, her braids having different colorful clips then before, and give her leg a big hug.

she would babble on and on about how her school day was, seemingly never ending as the kid always had something to talk about. she would pick at the jewelry on the caretakers hands, asking where she had got it from and if she could get her one like that.

sophie would also talk to delilah too, and would join her on drawing whatever their little hearts desired.

the day delilah ran to her with pure excitement, was the same day she was destined to leave the playcare.

she was the only one that told the playcare employee that she was getting adopted. she excitedly talked the whole time she was there, explaining on how lovely the couple sounded when she heard of them. that was probably the most she ever heard her talk.

after delilah left, sophie hung around her a lot more, becoming more clingy when she had to leave.

she had to always reassure her that she was going to come back the next day. even when the kid latched onto her leg like a koala, she couldn’t fight back the smile on her lips.

sophie would always make her pinky swear she was going to come back. children and their ways of reassurance was always so cute.

she would lock pinkies with her, shaking them and giving the same repeated promise. sophie would look at her for a second, before smiling and hugging her tightly, saying how she can’t wait to see her the next day.

was this becoming a pattern?

each kid she interacted with was gone in the same couple of weeks. she was teased a bit by her other employees that she was cursed, but she jabbed back with how they were all in better homes anyway.

she remembers the last one, she never interacted with her as much as the other kids, but the girl was always holding some type of snack in her hands.

little percilla was always eating something, an apple, pb & j, she would always have some type of food on her face.

each of those kids had their own distinct personalities, and each made her heart ache even more when she never sees them in the playcare.

she gives a small sigh, the underground outside the windows no longer fascinating as it was the first three times.

the five minute way there felt like forever, the carts top speed seemed like five miles, so she decided to check her little phone for any new messages.

a few texts from her friends, her mom asking what should they eat for dinner, and exactly none from jean since two weeks ago.

she didn’t know why it hurt when jean stopped messaging her. maybe that new promotion took up all of his time? she didn’t see much of sean either, so she guessed that could be the case.

she didn’t want to bombard him with messages either, so she hadn’t text back since the last text he sent her.

she closed the phone and puts it in her pocket once he heard the end of the automatic announcement that played in the cart, the ride coming to a full stop.

she gets up and stretched her body, stepping out into the playcare as she makes her way to the consolers office to check in. the playcare was empty, except for a few employees here and there. the kids must be asleep still.

she pushes a strand of hair back, fixing any wrinkles in her clothes and pushes forth, hopefully to get some work done before she has to be out to watch the-

“Hello there!” that scream definitely didn’t come from her, that was definitely someone else.

she spun around to see who decided on scaring the ever living life out of her, but she was met with twelve feet of-what is that?

she stumbled back, nearly losing her footing and quickly regaining it, hands gripping her chest to calm herself as she looked up at the face.

the orange dog bent down slightly, a friendly smile on his face, “woah there, friend, I didn’t mean to knock you off your feet,” he spoke, the young women pushing her hair out of her face and sputtering out, “dog…..dogday?” she whispered, blinking in confusion.

she could see out of the corner of her eye his tail wagging, “yeah! that’s me! it’s nice to meet you….?” he drags out the sentence, waiting for her to finish with her name.

she stays silent with a confused look on her face before stuttering out her name.

he repeats it with joy, grabbing her hand and shaking it with excitement, “oh it’s so nice to meet you! I’ve just about said hi to every employee here and I’ve gotta say, you look amazing on this fine day-“ she let the dog ramble on while continuing to shake her hand, still staring at him in amazement.

the main question ringing in her mind: ‘how?’

and the other one: ‘why?’

she wasn’t unaware of elliot ludwigs determined goal to make the best toys, but even then….this seemed out of the realm of possibility for anyone to achieve.

the giant hand that shook hers felt soft, plush, and almost humanly warm. he even spoke so much like a person, making her think this was some guy in a suit.

but why was he so tall? he stands taller then everyone in this place! and the tail wagging behind him just made it so….realistic.

after about a full two minutes of handshaking and rambling, dogday finally let’s go of her hand (which her whole arm is now numb at that point) and waved a hand in front of her face.

“hello? you still in there, friend?” he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

she blinked once, before clearing her throat, “uh…..barely.” she spoke, rubbing her arm as she backs away, “I…..gotta clock in.”

the hound tilts his head, before walking with her, “I’ll tag along, I’m not technically supposed to be out here anyway,” he waved his hand around nonchalantly, “but I wanted to say hi to everyone before the kids wake up.” he gave his cartoony smile.

she shook her head, giving him an awkward grin, “oh no, it’s fine, you can do-“

a large, purple tail wrapped around her legs, going softly around before she was face to legs with another 12 foot animal.

catnap, she remembered the name, looked down at her with a silent stare, tilting his head to look at her.

he pressed his face near hers, giving it a sniff before pulling away, and turning towards the orange dog.

“catnap! I’ve seen you met my new friend!” he exclaimed, tail seemingly wagging faster. the purple cat stayed silent for a moment, before nudging his head in a different direction.

a playful groan came from dogday, “come on, I was just trying to walk my friend to the office to get checked in!” he pressed his big hand to his chest, playfully puffing or out, “as the leader, it’s my duty to greet and help anyone I come across.”

catnap just tilts his head, still not saying anything as his tail moves to press him towards the direction he came from.

she watched as he had a one way conversation with the cat, giving them an awkward laugh as she waved her hand, “it’s fine, really, you guys should go, don’t…..want to get in trouble do you?”

they both turned towards her, both in silence before dogday nods, “only if you say so, friend” he smiles and waved at her, “I’ll see you in a bit, then!” he turned to walk away, his tail still wagging happily behind him.

catnap lingered on for a moment, staring at her silently.

she smiled and waved at him, “I’ll see you in a bit too, catnap.”

she turned to walk towards the counselors office, glancing at the time and noticing the kids will be awake in ten minutes. well, the paper work was going to have to wait then.

watching as she walked into the office, catnap stared at the spot she was at for a moment longer.

he then stretched his back, and turned around were his orange friend walked to wait for the kids to wake up.

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #catnap poppy playtime #dogday #catnap #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #x female reader #ppt x reader

[sayafics]

Just For A Moment - Part 1

Jay Halstead x OC/reader

This is my first time trying to write something angsty, so please be kind! I've seen quite a few fics where the partner always gets seen when they see their SO cheating, and its always teary denials and breakups, I wanted to put a spin on it and go down the line of "she knows, but she doesn't tell anyone" and the OC kind of just thinks of them as broken up and strangers without telling their SO that.

My plan with this storyline is that everyone kind of sides with Jay because no one really knows why she's being so cold with him, and it just carries on building until it reaches the breaking point. The question is, who'll break first?

Please let me know if you enjoyed this!

TW: cheating, (slightly?) angsty

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Masterlist

Voight had extended an offer for Aurora Gallo to join his Intelligence department a few days after Erin had left, Erin's departure left a gaping hole in the team and Voight was hopeful that Aurora would be the one to mend it.

Aurora was the daughter of an old friend of Hank's. She'd spent a few short years working her way through different organisations such as the CIA and FBI as an undercover operative.

But she needed a break. She was slowly losing herself in the multiple lives she had lived, and she needed a change.

Aurora hadn't expected the offer from Voight, but she was grateful all the same.

She moved to Chicago shortly after his offer, joining the Intelligence office and being partnered with him.

Jay Halstead.

Jay was an enigma - one she couldn't get enough of.

She had heard the rumours, of course. Of how Jay had been in love with Erin before she left.

And she had been the one to replace Erin, in both the team, and now in Jay's life.

It was hard not to draw comparisons. The whispers of the department always found their way to her, and, sometimes, when she looked into Jay's eyes, she always thought she could see him longing for more.

But she told herself not to worry, that Jay cared for her, that Jay chose her.

Not Erin, and definitely not anyone else.

That's what she continued to tell herself. Even after Hailey joined the team, even after Hailey found ways to get close to Jay when she wasn't his partner.

Soon, the small habits that Jay carried out for Aurora, he would carry out for Hailey too.

Checking up on her after a tough case, bringing her coffee in the mornings, dropping her off home after a late day at work, and picking her up bright and early in the morning. All of it, once done just for Aurora, were now moments and memories she shared with Hailey.

And just like that, those actions lost their meaning. But Aurora learnt to hide her hurt, instead choosing to ignore her heart and listen to Jay.

They were just friends.

That was what Jay had said the first time she expressed her concerns over their relationship, and she believed it. That everything Jay did for Hailey was out of the goodness of his heart because he was just so good.

So, on the night of their six month anniversary, when Aurora had dolled herself up and grabbed the cake, she had spent the whole day baking, on her way out of her apartment, she had left with a heart full of love and excitement.

The team had the day off today, and she had spent most of her morning at Jay's house before drumming up an excuse to go back to her apartment so she could finish her preparations.

Aurora held no sadness in her heart at the idea Jay might have forgotten their six month anniversary, after all such a thing wasn't significant to everyone.

But it was special to her, and she wanted to celebrate it with Jay - surprise him even.

Before leaving his place, she had asked Jay if he had plans, and he denied saying his only plan was to drink beer and watch the game. The revelation had calmed her nerves as she promised to text him later if she was free, knowing that she wouldn't because she wanted to surprise him instead.

And that was why she now stood in front of Jay's apartment, a small box with the cake she had baked and decorated that afternoon laid by her feet as she rummaged for the spare key Jay had given her for emergencies.

This seemed like the biggest emergency of all. If she stayed outside any longer, the frosting on her cake would melt off. And no one likes melted frosting.

As she quietly opened the door, she prayed silently that Jay had fallen asleep on the couch as she bent over to pick up her cake before walking through the door. As she closed the door behind her, her heart had calmed at the silence that rang through the apartment, hopeful that Jay truly had fallen asleep so she could set up the kitchen table before waking him.

She had taken two steps towards the kitchen before her eyes landed on the couch, and through the dim lights of a table lamp, she could make out that it was empty. She frowned slightly, hoping Jay wasn't asleep in bed - he rarely slept well, and the idea of waking him from a deep sleep rather than a nap would have just made her feel guilty.

If he had, she would just have to surprise him in the morning, and the thought brought a timid smile onto her face.

She continued her walk towards the kitchen, her steps quiet but hurried as the skirt of her deep blue dress billows around her thighs. She sets the cake on the kitchen counter, hands ready to lift up the lid to see the damage her journey here had done to the cake before she heard it.

Aurora felt her heart sink, pressure building in her sternum as the sound she heard repeated over and over again, not only in her head but in the apartment.

It sounded like... a woman?

She felt her breath stutter, the quiet moans she heard building in volume as she slipped her heels off and treaded cautiously towards the room she knew to be Jay's. After all, she and Jay had been in there many times.

As she got closer towards the room, her hands trembled as she stumbled, her feet catching on clothes thrown astray. The sight caused her to hesitate, frozen in a stupor as she looked at the articles of clothing which littered the floor.

Shoes, trousers, shirts. Women's clothes.

Aurora screwed up her eyes harshly, her breaths coming out in ragged pants as she tried to control herself, trying to convince herself that she was wrong. That Jay couldn't do anything wrong. He cares about her. He loves her. He said so himself. Her Jay wouldn't do something like this.

She opened her eyes, determination painted her gaze as she continued her path to Jay's room. His door was cracked open, and she held her breath as she peaked through.

Aurora's heart fell to the ground - shattered and broken. She had hoped, and she had prayed that the grunts and pleas - sounds she was so familiar with - were just a trick her paranoia was playing on her.

But looking into Jay's room, there was no denying it.

There sat her boyfriend, on the bed they had made love in, fucking another woman. Jay was leaning against the headboard, his head thrown back in pleasure as his hand gripped the waist of the blonde woman perched on his lap, his knuckles blanched as he ground her hips against his, the motion causing a moan of pleasure to wrench itself from her throat, his name on her lips as she spoke - "fuck, Jay, I'm so close."

The blood had drained from Aurora's face, she knows that voice.

"I know, baby. I'm close, too. God, Hail you feel so good."

Baby?

Tears began to well in Aurora's eyes. Jay calls her baby, and now he's called her too?

This wasn't some one night stand or some mistake. No, Jay cares about Hailey, so much so that he is willing to betray Aurora to have her.

Aurora's throat ached as she held back her sobs, her heart burning in agony as she stepped back quietly from the door. She made her way back to her things and hastily grabbed her box of cake and shoes as she scrambled away from Jay's apartment, running away from the her own nightmare.

She made it to her car, hands shaking as she shut herself in and sobs poured out from her.

Aurora had no one to go to. She didn't know the team as well as Jay, and she hadn't been around Chicago enough to make close friends. Her previous career and her lifestyle made it hard to make friends, much less keep them.

And now, when she needed someone the most, she had no one.

And she had lost the one person she thought she could always go to.

Aurora's eyes were filled with tears, and her heart filled with pain as she drove home. Her hands were shaky on the steering wheel, and she relied on muscle memory to bring her back to the place she felt the most safe in.

The place she had allowed Jay in, the place she was the most vulnerable in. And he ruined it. He ruined her.

Without warning, anger began to bubble in her chest. Anger towards herself for being so naive to believe Jay when he said they were just friends, anger towards Jay for lying to her, for betraying her, anger towards Hailey for being a friend to her only to betray her too.

The anger that built up in her on the drive home festered throughout the night. As Aurora lay in bed, struggling to quieten her mind enough to get some sleep, her eyes burning from all the tears she shed and her throat raw from her screams and cries, she felt her anger morph into dread.

Tomorrow, she would see the man that betrayed her, and the woman she called a friend.

On her nightstand, her phone continued to light up the ceiling as notifications popped up. But Halstead's texts went unanswered.

***

The next morning, Aurora had awoken from a restless sleep, and she instinctively reached for her phone, a ghost of a smile on her face as she looked for the sweet 'good morning' messages her Jay would send her every morning.

Hey baby, you okay? You didn't come back over yesterday.

Aurora felt her smile falter - the most recent text Halstead sent caused the memories of last night to flash past her eyes. The remembrance of his lies and his betrayal once more brings tears to her eyes as they fall, leaving hot trails in their tracks.

Her eyes then fall to a text from Voight - Case. Meet at 9.

It was currently 7:30am, which gave her plenty of time to pull herself together and push away the dread of having to see the two people she trusted most after their betrayal.

She pushed herself out of bed, shuffling towards the bathroom - dear God, she looked a mess. The makeup from last night still painted her face, but her mascara and eyeliner were now smudged and drawn down her cheeks in smeared streaks, and through the smudged-off makeup, the faint lines of the scars she hid could be seen.

And her eyes, they looked sad.

And that realisation made fury bite at her, she looked so pathetic.

God, it was her fault. To let him in so easily, after all she had been through and all she had learnt about men. She had still gone and trusted one with her heart.

Aurora had come across all kinds of men and stood against them undefeated - those who beat their wives and children, those who hurt and raped the innocent, those who killed without fear of consequences and those who tortured with hearts full of glee.

And yet, it was Jay Halstead who broke her. All because she let him in, let him get too close.

Determination set in her gaze once more. She wouldn't let Halstead be the end of her. No, she was stronger than that, better than that.

With that thought in mind, Aurora got ready to face the man she once called her boyfriend and the love of her life.

***

When Aurora stepped into the district, it was obvious to Sargent Platt that something was different.

She looked the same - her hair pinned up in the same sleek ponytail, dressed in the same long sleeve jumper and cargos. But her face was void of emotions, and her eyes looked like they were drowning in them.

Sargent Platt liked Aurora. She was a good kid, and despite all the years she spent around violence and horror in her years undercover, she had managed to keep a pure heart and a joyful soul.

It seemed now that both of those things had been drained out of her.

"Hey, kid. Come here a sec."

"Sorry, Sargent, got a case," Aurora nodded stiffly in Trudy's direction before walking up the steps to the intelligence office.

Sargent?

Aurora has called her boss, even Platt. When she tried to push her friendship with her, Aurora would even call her Trudy, sometimes, in a teasing manner. But she had never been so formal, so devoid of emotion.

Trudy felt worried for the girl, her mind running countless scenarios as she wondered what had made her lose her light in such a short amount of time.

***

When Aurora had made her way up the stairs, the office was already buzzing, her team talking and walking around in circles as they discussed the case on hand - a twelve year old boy had been kidnapped, this was the third case over the last ten days and the other victims had been found dead. Homicide had turned up empty in their investigation, and given how close the last case was to their district, Voight offered to take it off their hands, to which they gladly agreed.

She looked over her colleagues, scanning the room for the one person she was unsure of if she would want to see. But it seems his eyes found her first.

"Babe, there you are," Jay's voice sounded exasperated as he leapt up from his seat at his desk, and just like always, Hailey was hovering over his shoulder.

Usually, the action would cause her to feel slightly annoyed, the feeling being quelled when Jay would hold her hand or kiss her cheek or just say her name.

Now, the sight brought a burst of emotions, all of which she fought down and locked away to face at another time when she was alone and it was safe to be vulnerable.

Halstead made his way to her, his hands cupping her cheeks as he looked at her in concern, "baby, you didn't answer my texts, I was so worried."

Aurora shrugged lightly, her face still blank as she found she had no energy to even fake a smile to him, "I was tired."

No apology, no placation. Because he didn't deserve that.

It seemed that Jay had noticed her lack of reason and apology, too, the concern in his eyes growing as Aurora pushed his hands down gently - "we have a case to work."

She pushed past him and walked to her desk, ignoring the 'hey, Aurora' Hailey had thrown her way, grateful when Voight had chosen that exact moment to step out of his office and brief them.

Unbeknownst to her, Jay continued to eye her in worry. He had already been struggling to fight off the guilt he felt when he stepped out on Aurora and slept with Hailey, but to see her so drawn away and isolated only made that grow. Paranoia ate at his heart, but he knew there could be no way she caught them.

Voight had given them the basics of Aurora's past career as an undercover agent, and Jay knew that if she had caught him and Hailey, they would be working on their murder case right now instead.

What do we think? Do we want a part 2?👀

#jay halstead #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #chicago #chicago pd #chicago one #chicago fire #chicago med #jay halstead x hailey upton #upstead

[why-what-no]

Pretty When You Cry

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst

Summary: Billy’s girlfriend gets tired of him always abandoning her to hang out with his jock friends. Based on the song Pretty When You Cry by Lana Del Ray

Requested by: My bae @mothshabby

It was a beautiful night as (Y/N) stepped out of her friend’s car, stars shining so bright like they were watching her. Her shoes crunching over the gravel as she got out of the car.

“You want me to come with you?” Nancy asked, brow knitted in concern. (Y/N) avoided eye contact, knowing that the pity on Nancy’s face would make her cry.

She shook her head.

“Alright. Steve’s there if you get into trouble , I’ll wait here until you’re back.”

She was always so grateful for Nancy. Even when the girl was a lot, the Wheeler girl was the best friend anyone could have. And (Y/N) was holding that thought in her mind like a shield as she walked towards the bonfire party that the jocks were holding after their game’s big win.

She could spot Billy fairly easily. Glowing gold in the warm light of the fire, standing and laughing with his friends. His wild laugh like a lion’s roar, his mane of blond hair blowing in the wind.

The sight of him made her chest constrict, even more so when he spotted her and grinned. Billy shoved past his friends and made his way to her. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?”

He knew something was wrong when he leaned forward to kiss her and she stepped back.

“Did you forget, Billy?” Her voice was soft, a waver in it. She was trying to pull on her anger, hoping that anger would make it easier to talk than sadness. “You said we were going out for dinner after your game?”

His face dropped, realizing what he had done. Around them, the basketball players were laughing and play fighting. Unaware of what was happening between the lovers. The fraying relationship.

When (Y/N) and Billy got together, she always felt like his whole world. She was his girl, he told her everything. So many days they spent together, holding each other close.

But Billy had been getting distant, knowing he had her so forgetting he needed to work to keep her.

Plans got cancelled hours before they were supposed to happen, leaving (Y/N) all dressed up with nowhere to go. She’d spend so much time waiting for him only for him to never come through.

And she couldn’t do it any longer.

“I’m sorry princess.” Billy was trying to make it right. “Let me get my stuff, we can go to dinner right now.”

“No. I wanna go home.”

“Then I’ll take you home.” He replied

“Not with you.”

Her boyfriend looked properly scared. “(Y/N).” He only used her proper name when he was being serious. “I’m sorry, I… I can make this better.”

She shook her head, picking at her nails. “I think it’s better if you don’t. This relationship clearly isn’t important to you.”

“No!” Billy denied that quickly, drawing a few glanced from his friends. Their attention was retaken by the party moments after, however. “I need you, babe.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” (Y/N)‘s voice was harsher, her mind made up. “Not when you keep leaving me for your friends.”

She didn’t listen to the rest of his excuses, turning on her heeling and walking away from him. Walking away like she should have done earlier.

It was only when she got back to the car that she started crying. Nancy had her arm around (Y/N), saying reassuring things that the heartbroken girl could barely hear.

While she finally wiped her eyes after her sobbing, (Y/N) took the time to examine herself in the mirror. Billy always said that she looked so pretty, his pretty darling. She wondered if he’d think she looked pretty while crying that she was. Maybe that was why he kept hurting her.

Maybe it was because he thought she was pretty when she cried.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #st #st x reader #st imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things billy #stranger things billy x reader #stranger things billy Hargrove #stranger things billy Hargrove x reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove #Billy x reader #Billy #st billy x reader #st billy #st billy Hargrove x reader #st billy Hargrove

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to learn new things for my art?

What it says on the title basically. i've (25nb) been a self taught artist for at least 3 years and i think i am pretty good at it! some of the people in my friends discord server always praise it and sometimes say my anatomy is wonky which is fair, but the main issue started today.

For my art, i usually just take a picture of myself in the pose i want to draw and then sketch over it to get the anatomy done. it always works out and never brought me any issues but today i wanted to draw one of my favorite game characters! i really enjoy her and she's genuinely a sweetheart, so I went to take the picture of myself holding a knife (she uses a sword but it's not like i had it) and then started drawing, but the moment i shared it on the server people started criticizing me

i have been recovering from being underweight and almost never eating recently thanks to my new job, but i'm still clearly very thin while the character is fat. because of that, i drew her over my body and she didn't look fat which i thought would be okay! i know some people like to draw thin characters as fat which is always good so i thought it'd be okay to also do the opposite. however, some people on the server started telling me that she didn't look like the character and i should learn to draw fat people which made me very sad, i had worked hard on that drawing after all and i'm already pretty satisfied with the point my art is at, plus, it's always hard to learn new techniques and i don't think i would ever use it again even if i did learn it. some people called me fatphobic after i told them i thought it'd be okay since sometimes people also draw thin characters as fat and that i didn't see any need on learning it because she's the only fat character i know and enjoy.

one of them specifically told me that i don't have to just learn how to draw fat bodies but to look for reference images of other body types in general since it'd help me on the long run to better my art and anatomy, but i thought that was an asshole move and called her out for it since she also never draws thin characters and at most like, draws them a bit fat, she then pulled out her art portfolio and showed me that yes, she does, and offered to help me find references but i was crying at this point and denied it saying i didn't need her pity.

Now they're mostly saying i overreacted which i don't think i did and that i am an asshole for refusing to learn anything besides my own normal anatomy, am i the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[sun-stricken]

Some ideas for you! Take your pick!

Gray frequents the infirmary the most. In one of my ideas lately, after thinking about iced shell, maybe ice make makes the body a bit more…prone to cracking? Maybe he bruises easy and gets a lot of head wounds. It’s why he’s always in bandages longer. I like the idea of Porlyusica getting sick of him.

Team Natsu/the guild/slayers taking care of him, even when he doesn’t realise it. (Against pervs, against himself, maybe people are a bit racist (with him being not from Fiore).

Gray gets sad sometimes and dissociates.

Gray has night terrors so he has sleeping pills, but on missions he also has caffeine tablets to keep him awake so he doesn’t have terrors around them. Safe to say, they aren’t happy when they find this.

Lucy asks Gray about where he’s from, traditions etc, and the guild realises he might be homesick so they secretly try to learn things for him. (Over the years they’ve picked up swear words (Gray doesn’t realise he’s doing it and they’ve never told him))

Gray’s actually quite touch starved. His body temperature is cold so most people stay away/ don’t touch him (but don’t realise they’re doing it). The only one who can stand is Natsu because of his magic. Maybe it gets worse after becoming a slayer.

…also do you take spicy requests?

you cant just give me all these amazing concepts and tell me to pick☹️ i will do a little for all of them if it kills me

Also yes! i absolutely do take nsfw requests! feel free to ask me anything! im surprised it took so long to ask me that tbh

there is a lot here so vv

1.

* Hes the single reason why the guild infirmary is always having to restock

* Due to Grays multiple usages of iced shell some of his body did turn to ice, most sections of his bones, it looks like a normal bones but it acts like ice, which means hes more likely to break a bone

* unfortunately, its not like a normal broken bone for obvious reasons. itll splinter and have hairline cracks all over the bones before it breaks.

* It takes less time to heal than a normal break, he just has to get it wrapped and limit his usage of his magic so it can ‘heal’ (as in, ice it over again) the breaks and cracks. It takes less time to heal and also less pressure to break, win lose situation tbh

* Which is also why head wounds are especially dangerous for him, skull fractures are more common for him than anyone would like, which is to say any at all

* His external body temperature is low and causes him to bruise like a peach, getting a friendly slap on the back can cause him to bruise for weeks, especially from Erza

* bro hasnt gone a day without a bruise in like ten years

* Hes been dragged to Porlyusica so many times now that anytime she sees him (on the field, in her office, even completely out of context and hes not visibly injured) its like second nature to check him out first

* if she could go a month, or even just two weeks! without seeing him she might consider changing her views on humanity (probably not but its the thought that counts)

* Also Gray has small sections of what people think is frostbite on his hands and feet. It doesnt hurt or limit him at all but theyre there, showed up some time post devil slayer magic

* ALSO! His blood runs slower and is darker due to his low body temperature, causes him only the vaguest of problems but its a thing (this is common in most powerful ice wizards)

2.

* Gray likes to pretend hes good at taking care of himself, but hes not hes really not

* Luckily he has a lot of nosy and protective friends thatll do it for him (in their own ways)

* Natsu literally temperature exploding some guys glass at a bar when he got wayyyy too friendly and handsy with Gray

* they were kicked out but he was really proud of himself

* Rogue drawing shadows towards Gray if he needs to sleep and its too bright, or Sting creating a warm light beam when its dark out and Gray wants to embrace his inner cat and sleep in a sunbeam

* Wendy checking him over first bc she knows hes one of the people who wouldnt ask for help if he was injured

* hes had multiple people physically remove him from fights/training sessions because he was visibly pushing himself way too hard

* Part of the reason Gray learned Fioren so fast was because he was sick of people looking at him like he was stupid for not speaking ‘right’

* he mentioned this to the little slayer group they got goin on and from then on out they were like, hella hyper vigilant with anything that could make him insecure like that again

3.

* It really scared him the first couple times he did it, it still does. He hates losing time

* It started happening during his time with Ur, he cant remember a lot of it, training, blink, fighting, blink, training, blink, training, you get the idea

* It doesnt happen often, and he tried not to think of it past the point of trying to get it to stop

* Its happens often when hes highly stressed but theres no immediate physical threat, his brain doesnt understand whats going on or why its so stressed but knows he doesnt need to physically protect himself yet so it mentally protects him (if that makes sense), usually when hes alone, or when a threat is gone

* he confided in Erza about this once, and now more times than not when he ‘wakes up’ shes there talking to him

* only part he feels is good about it is that it makes him exhausted and lets him sleep easier

* He doesn’t usually dissociate often, not that he has much of a choice, if he did it wouldnt happen at all, but it was a lot worse when he was younger, his memories of early fairy tail are all blurry and he felt like he was on autopilot even when he was ‘awake’

* he hates it

4.

* After his team found out abt his vast array of pharmaceuticals they were so confused and concerned and probably borderline paranoid, because who needs that many medications for one person??

* Gray had been taking sleeping pills at a high enough dose to let him have a dreamless sleep for so long that most over the counter brands dont actually work on him

* but he kept all the old bottle that didnt work just in case he got desperate to sleep and they suddenly magically worked again

* The caffeine tablets were self explanatory after seeing all the sleeping meds, but he also (unwillingly) admitted he takes them on missions so he wouldnt wake them if he had a nightmare, and also for days when they were especially bad so he could go long enough without sleep hed just crash and sleep with no issues. Canr have a nightmare if you dont sleep

* His team was also extremely unimpressed by these explanations

* Erza and Natsu (and also Happy) strong armed him into going to Porlyusica for actual helpful solutions since he refused to go to his actual doctor

* While Lucy and Wendy disposed of the full fucking pharmacy (seriously, he coulda started a business or smth) he had in his bedroom

* For some odd reason he felt lighter and less moody when he was on actual helpful medication and was getting genuine rest

* how strange

* and if his team checks his house for another pharmacy in the making thats nobodies business but theirs

* Also Erza tried to ban Gray from caffeine while on a quest , or at least limit it, but he looked at her like she was absolutely batshit crazy to the point she got embarrassed and had to retract the ban

* But she will tie him to the bed to make him sleep on quests if she has to

5.

* The first time Lucy asked where Gray was from was before Galuna, he ended up giving her a shady answer and redirecting the question to her (reminder, before galuna, before phantom lord) which she ended up also being a bit cagey about so she let it go

* But Lucy is nosy (endearing) by nature, so she asked if he had any different holiday type traditions sometime after Galuna, and to the surprise of, well, literally everyone, he did and gave examples

* which lead down a rabbit hole of the guild fretting a bit abt how to make him comfortable (even though hed been with them for a decade) bc he mentioned he used to be really homesick the first couple years, and sometimes still is

* Most the guild still had no clue where he was from so they were really just running in circles for awhile

* Levy tried to figure it out from the time he accidentally dropped, what she assumed to be colorful curse words, random foreign language bits

* didnt really work but she tried

* so for months he was bombarded with ‘subtle’ questions about his hometown and its culture, which got shut down most the time

* Thats not to say he didnt give them anything, he gave them enough that they were incorporated into existing traditions and holidays they already celebrated

* it was a very sweet gesture that Gray absolutely did not tear up at, so shut up—

6.

* Gray is the most touch starved fool on the planet. ive always loved the idea of him liking touch a lot

* He grew up in a pretty affectionate family, his parents were always around to ruffle his hair, or hug, or hold his hand, or carry him, they were just very physically affectionate and he enjoyed it

* With it made him nauseous, guilty really, because Ur and Lyon were also physically affectionate but it wasnt them, it wasnt his family

* Also it was plain uncomfortable at times, part of learning ice magic was to almost numb himself to cold, but in the beginning numbed him to everything and it became uncomfortable to be touched because it was tingly and it hurt

* Early Fairy Tail he was completely closed off, couldnt stand being touched, didnt want to get cozy and make friends because he planned to leave anyways.

* Ice mages (Fire mages also) temperatures can fluctuate depending on how they feel, for example, if they’re experiencing negative emotions their temperature and the space around them will get colder

* and Gray used to be so angry and upset all the time, and hed just beginning to learn magic so he didnt know how to fix it yet, which caused a lot of discomfort for people.

* People didnt stay around him long because the discomfort of being too cold, and what was he gonna do about it? ask them to come back?? hell no

* So he gained a reputation and people didnt want to disrespect a volatile childs apparent boundaries so they didnt question it

* He was fine with fighting being the only real prolonged touch hed get, totally

* But Natsus got this thing about him that makes him think he can do the impossible, which includes shaking Grays world view and comfort levels

* At some point in their teens Natsu would not let go of the alleged fact that Grays didnt like being touched for some reason, so he did what he does best and pressed the issue

* it ended with Gray being a puddle in his lap while he had a crisis about everything he thought he knew about himself while Natsu celebrated his victory against him

* Its not completely public knowledge but the guild most definitely knows at least a little about how much Gray is touch starved

* he doesnt openly welcome it with open arms but if its happening and he trusts the person hes not gonna say no

* he probably gets a euphoria high from a head pat or smth

* After getting his devil slayer magic is absolutely got worse, having two powerful ice magics, one of which he was still struggling to get the hang of, in one body made it difficult to control the temperature around him, and after long enough people would start shivering if he wasnt careful

* it sucked, totally and completely sucked

* Natsu still remained unbothered and would increase his own temperature to counterbalance Grays, which helped a lot

* he still gets all up in Grays space no matter how much Gray tell him to fuck off, he knows he needs it

#god that was a lot #fairy tail #gray fullbuster #you can tell where i started losing my grip on what i was doing #sun strickens ft #fairy tail headcanons #natsu dragneel #erza scarlet #lucy heartfilia #sun stricken answers #wendy marvell #rogue cheney #sting eucliffe #porlyusica #shes the real star for putting up with grays weekly visits #fairy tail happy #every hc i have for gray makes me want to put him in a psychiatric hospital #touch starved gray has my heart #i adore ts gray and natsu #that last section was a little sad so i gave you some cute ones with it #as a treat #say thank you #slash jay