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noxturnalpascal · 1 month

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Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 8)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 8 (6.6k) | The Night You Left |

Joel barely sleeps, tossing and turning in his bed with his clothes on, knuckles bloody and burning, throat raw from screaming. He wakes up to hushed whispers outside his door and he throws it open, inexplicably hoping to see you out there. Instead he sees a sea of terrified faces, Sasha tucking Beth behind her, Tess peering out from the bathroom with Rosie holding a cold cloth over her swollen face. Kerri is further down the hall, sweeping up chunks of drywall and dust on the floor from the holes he’d punched into the wall hours earlier.

He looks back towards Tess. Fuck. She looks awful, already two swollen black eyes and a split lip. What kind of a monster does that to someone?

“Tess, I–”

“I’ll be alright Joel,” she reassures. “Why don’t you head over to the baths and get cleaned up?”

She knows he can’t be seen in the state he’s in. What would people think? They’d think he’d fuckin’ lost it is what they’d think. And they’d be right.

Joel heads to the old plaza, a ten minute walk down the street and around the corner, to the old salon now serving as the town bath house. This early in the morning he knows no one is going to be here so he lets himself in through the back door. He checks the tank of the town’s only working hot water heater and begins to fill one of the stock tank tubs, shucking his clothes off and climbing in. The water stings his raw knuckles as he scrubs at his body, washing away bits of dusty drywall and blood – his or Tess’, he can’t tell.

Fuck, he fucked up. He shouldn’t have reacted like that. He shouldn’t have done that to Tess. This is what you fucking do to him, this is the effect you have on him. You bring out the worst in him. All you ever did was distract him, tempt him, tease him, and reject him. He saved your life, fed you, clothed you, protected you, and put a roof over your head. And how did you repay him?

Resentment. Neglect. Defiance. Abandonment.

What did he even see in you? He thought you were brave, but you were so soft on the inside. He thought you were smart, but he watched you act like such a fucking fool. He thought you were beautiful, but you wouldn’t even let him say it. He thought you were wild, but he tamed you so easily. He was wrong about you. He tells himself that he’s glad you’re gone and that he’s better off without you around anyway.

—

The first Thursday without you, Joel takes Beth to the meeting, despite complaining that he’d rather go alone. Beth had already gotten to work making clothes and this would be a good opportunity for her to give some out to the families that lived further out of town, at least that’s what Tess had said. He’d never admit it, but he held his breath when a group of people led by the tall and imposing Hank walked in the room, someone else trailing just behind. Several people shifted and Joel saw it was just Hank’s little girl, blushing bright red when she caught him looking at her.

Shit. He’s not sure why he let himself think it might be you. Hank hadn’t brought you to the church meeting on Sunday so why did he let that tightness grow in his stomach thinking he’d bring you to the Thursday meetings the way he used to bring Beth? Whatever. He doesn’t even want to see you. He continues to be in a foul mood all week and despite pleading with Tess for forgiveness – which she gives him – all the women in the house seem to avoid him.

The second Thursday he notices Hank’s young daughter, who’d introduced herself several times as Amber, following his every move, watching him, sitting next to him, hanging on his every word with rapt attention. The little girl must have a crush. How inconvenient. But wait, he might be able to use this to his advantage. He’d noticed you ducking behind Hank’s oversized frame at church the past Sunday, avoiding him like the plague, and decided he was going to give you a taste of your own medicine.

Fuck you, you little ingrate, he’s gonna ignore the shit out of you right back.

He purposely avoided looking in your direction during his speech and sat with his back to you during dinner. He made sure to act like the perfect leader, loving and gentle, graciously accepting people’s well wishes for Tess’ illness – the cover-up for why she’d been in the house for over a week while her face healed up. Within earshot of you he gives attention to every other female Valley member, even going so far as to bring people into his embrace, hugging them tight.

He’s like an oily politician – kissing babies and shaking hands – but he hopes you see it all. He hopes you feel sick over it, feel jealous, feel regret. He hopes you feel the loneliness rotting in your gut like he does. But how will he know? How will he know if he can’t see you, can’t talk to you? He needs access to you, someone for you to confide in, someone on the inside. Little Amber will do nicely.

He strikes up a conversation with her, bumping up the charm to an eleven. He opens with some mildly flirtatious banter, asks some questions about her – women love that shit – before getting to the point.

“Hear you got a new roommate over there,” he postures casually.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Amber beams.

“She is?”

“Oh– ummm,” her brow furrows. “Isn’t she?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles, “You tell me.”

“She’s alright, yeah… I mean, she– she’s fine.”

“Well you should let me know if she does anything to bother you.” His voice is smooth and buttery.

“I should?”

“Well yeah,” Joel touches his hand briefly to her chin, “I gotta make sure you’re happy, don’t I?”

“Oh,” she giggles, face flushing immediately.

“So make sure you tell me what’s goin’ on, okay?”

“Yeah I will,” she tries to suppress her smile. “I– I definitely will.”

“Anything at all, even if you think it might not be important.” He makes sure she’s looking at him and drops his voice an octave. “Anything at all, okay, sweetheart?” He winks to seal the deal.

It was almost too easy, turning little Amber into his own private mole. Every Thursday he gave her a couple minutes of attention and she folded, playing right into his hand and spilling everything you two had talked about over the past week. She told him where you went, what you did, who you talked to, and even what anyone else in the house said about you. Apparently Hank’s wife was missing Beth and Joel briefly thinks of telling Tess to make a switch back, but then gets angry at you again and changes his mind.

You don’t deserve his forgiveness, you’re not missing him enough, not even close to being as miserable as you could be. Amber had told him that you’d cried yourself to sleep almost every night the first week but then the other day after the church meeting he’d watched you hunch down behind little Amber – barely five feet tall – trying to hide from him. Your stubborn pride is gonna make it even more satisfying when you come crawling back to him, begging him to let you come back home.

Amber tells him when you’ve stopped crying at night but says you still spend a lot of time on your own, wandering the edges of the property. She catches you up in the hayloft all the time, or napping with the baby goats. She says you don’t spend any time with Danny or Diego, the ranch hands, so he resists his urges to take them by the collar and threaten to bury them alive if they so much as look at you.

—

Joel woke up in the mornings feeling empty, like his chest had been broken open and hollowed out, all of his internal organs scooped onto the ground. The only thing that remained inside him was a deep-seated ache. He tried to soothe it with conversation but Tess didn’t want to hear it, kept telling him it’s better this way and to move on. He tried to temper his loneliness with touch, but when he reached for Sasha’s hand after dinner one night she ripped it out of his grip. One evening, in a particularly weak moment, he nuzzled into Kerri’s neck while she was washing dishes, her hands occupied and covered in suds.

“Oh,” she squeaked, startled by his touch.

“Hey,” he said, muffled against her skin, twitching under the brush of his beard.

“I’m not really–” she started.

He didn’t let her finish. He was out of the room before she could even finish her sentence. How fucking pathetic was he? He didn’t even want her – not really – and she couldn’t even stand to be touched by him. This is what you’ve done to him, this is what you’ve made him. He’s been ruined by you.

When it's been just over a month since you left, things at the house finally get back to a sense of normalcy again. For a while, Tess was the only one speaking to him, and besides the Thursday meetings Beth was assigned to accompany him to, she avoided him like the plague. Kerri wouldn’t meet his eyes, Rosie shuffled away from him whenever he entered a room, and Sasha gave him dirty looks every time she passed him in the halls. But with time, things were improving. There was a low hum of conversations around the dinner table now – none of them involving him – but at least everyone else was happy.

The following Sunday Amber traps him in a corner and starts saying shit about coming to live with him. He has no idea where she got this idea in her head but she keeps trying to touch the buttons on his shirt and he’s doing everything in his power not to swat her little fucking hands away. He sees Tess giving him a look and he knows. He knows he needs to get away from her, that people can see him, that people will talk. What if you see him? You’re never gonna come back home if you think he’s messing around with this annoying child. He has to stop using her for information, he has to cut her off.

The following Thursday marks the end of February and Amber’s reports have gotten brief and repetitive. Walks alone along the pastures, always has her nose in a book at bedtime, late to every meal (much to her mother’s chagrin). She tells him that you only leave the farm on Sundays for church and on Wednesdays for your bath, having to settle for a weekly wash at the Covered Bridge Inn another mile down the road with some of the other farming families. He bets you’re missing your three soaks a week since you left town.

Joel decides to cut Amber off then and there, she’s not giving him anything he doesn’t already know and he needs more, he wants more. He needs to fill that emptiness inside him and you’re the only thing that can make him feel whole again. He’s barely looked at you in weeks, always avoiding watching you directly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of thinking he gives a fuck. He doesn’t, not really. He just wants to soothe the hole you left. He convinces himself he just needs a taste, just needs a peek. He just needs to see if you’re missing him, to make sure you’re suffering the way he is, the way you should be. He wants to see it for himself. Then he can get over you – move on – like Tess says he should.

He waits until the following Wednesday and makes a trip out to the Mansfield’s farm when he knows you’ll be gone for your bath. Only Hank remains on the farm to greet him but is honored and excited by Joel’s presence. Joel makes up something about wanting to visit Hank because of how much he respects all of his hard work, but asks Hank to not spread the word lest the other farmers be jealous. Hank nods in agreement as he shows Joel around the property and then welcomes him into his humble home.

When Joel excuses himself to use the bathroom he takes a walk around the upstairs, checking each bedroom to find yours, recognizing it when he sees one of your old shirts on the bed. He lifts your pillow to his face, huffing in your familiar scent. Under your pillow is a book, paperback cover worn and tattered, Of Mice and Men by John Steinback. Joel stuffs it in his waistband and pulls his shirt back down, heading back downstairs to tell Hank he should get going.

There’s no mention of his visit by his little spy the next night so, he assumes Hank kept it a secret and you were none the wiser. He wants to go to the farm again, he wants to have another piece of you. Just one more taste, just one more. He waits until late in the day on the following Wednesday and, avoiding traps he and his patrols helped set, he rides out and sneaks onto the property from the neighboring fields. Hank is working out in the far pasture and doesn’t even notice Joel’s surreptitious arrival.

The house is unlocked and he goes straight to your room, this time laying down in your bed, letting himself soak in the scent of you wafting off the sheets. He thinks of you crawling in the bed every night at the end of a long day working your ass off on this farm, a big change from the cushy life you had back home. He knows you only get a bath once a week here, and he can smell your scent on the sheets strongly. He smells sweat, dirt, farm animals, and a trace of tangy milk. You must change the sheets when you get back from your bath. This must be the most pungent they smell all week.

He grabs his dick overtop his pants, he can feel it already hard and aching at the thought of you. He wishes he had more time to lie here, to really be able to enjoy himself, but he made up an excuse to Tess and she’ll be suspicious if he’s gone too long. He takes his hand away from the front of his pants and instead grabs your pillow, throwing it over his face to breathe it in a final time. He gets up, adjusting himself, and takes a step towards the door before he doubles back and snatches your pillowcase off the pillow, stuffing it down the front of his shirt.

—

He’s panting slightly as he makes his way in the back door of his house, having had to jog from the stables, cutting through the town park so he’d be back before Tess started wondering where he was. Kerri gives him a sideways glance and an empty smile, quickly turning her head back to her meal preparation. Tess and Sasha come up from the basement holding jars of preserved vegetables.

“Where you been?” Tess asks.

“I told you,” he tries to stifle his heavy breathing. “I had to help Peter out with his solar panel issue.”

“But Peter’s wife Georgia just came by here not even ten minutes ago and asked how you were doin’,” she says, looking confused.

“Yeah well it wasn’t at his house,” Joel thinks quickly. “He’s been tryin’ to get it fixed up for little old Miss Betty, out– umm… over there by the woods.” He picked the most remote, home-bound person he could think of, hoping it would cover his ass.

“Oh, she needs power? For what?” she asks, setting down the jars on the counter with Sasha, not giving Joel her full attention anymore. He uses the opportunity to move out of the kitchen towards his office.

“I dunno, just helpin’ out Peter,” he says and then ducks out of the room before she can question him further.

Once he closes his office door he pulls out your pillowcase from under his shirt and balls it up to his face, sniffing it more. He sticks it in the bottom desk drawer under the maps, where he keeps your lost pair of underwear, your rejected christmas gift, and the book he took from under your pillow on his previous visit. Something scratches at him from deep inside, something that might resemble guilt. He shakes it off. He has nothing to feel guilty for. If you want underwear, books, or your pillowcase so bad you can come back home and have them.

—

He can’t even wait until next Wednesday to go over to the farm. Sunday morning rolls around – he’s spent all weekend planning this moment – and he gives a well-rehearsed speech to Tess about being sick. He doubles over in his bed and clutches his middle, groaning until her face softens and she puts the back of her hand to his forehead the way his mom used to. She brings him some water and rice and tells him to get some rest before heading to the services with everyone else in the house.

Once he’s left alone he jumps out of bed, throwing the covers off like a child on Christmas morning. He knew that if he went to church he’d be able to see you, maybe fill a little bit of his craving. But since he doesn’t really look at you, how much of you can he actually see? Knowing that Hank would bring your entire household to the service meant the farmhouse would be empty. He can sneak over there while everyone is preoccupied and have his fill of your scent, of the ghost of your presence. He needs this, he tells himself, he needs a little bit more before he stops, before he gets over you.

He doesn’t want to take a horse this time, wants to leave no trace of where he’s going or risk anyone seeing him riding out. Most of the town is at the church service but he wants to be extra cautious. He heads out the back door and ducks into the trees beyond the yard, making the long way around the populated square to hit the fence-line. He finds a well-worn path through two fence sections and, avoiding the traps he knows are there, darts south towards the farm.

Joel’s knees are aching by the time he hits Hank’s property, heart pounding and feet throbbing, having set a brutal pace to make the trip in just about thirty minutes. His chest is heaving to catch his breath as he crosses over the creek and walks up the small hill to the old farmhouse standing like a silent monument above the pastures.

He takes his time on this visit, going through your side of the dresser, recognizing the clothes you had before, touching the fabric with his fingers that he would feel beneath his touch whenever he held you in the mornings. He looks in the closet – mostly Amber’s clothes – but sees a nice dress in there he assumes Hank intended for you to wear to church. Joel’s never seen you in a dress, maybe no one here has either, since you’ve certainly never worn this one.

He takes off his clothes and climbs in your bed, lying face flat on your pillow, and smells you. Not your soap or shampoo, but you, the real you. The you he used to smell when you were at home, when you were in his arms, when you were his. Before you left him, before you broke him, before he was empty. He slowly humps against the bed – his cock rubbing the worn, softened sheets – and thinks of you.

He imagines you coming back and catching him, throwing your arms and legs around him, crying how much you miss him and kissing him until he agrees to take you home. His come spills on your sheets and he throws the blanket back over top, leaving the mess for you to find. Part of him hopes you know it was him. He puts half his clothes on and then begins to get sleepy, having stayed up half the night going over and over in his head his plans for today. He lies down on top of the bed just to rest his eyes for a moment.

He doesn’t hear the horses pull up with the wagon outside, or the door opening and people entering the house downstairs. He doesn’t hear anything until there’s footsteps on the stairs coming towards where he’s still half naked and just awake. Shit. He jumps up and grabs the rest of his clothes off the floor, kicking his boots under your bed and jumping in the closet just as Amber bursts in the room, humming a hymn and babbling about how she wants to make soup to send to him. You hum in assent but otherwise say nothing.

He wishes he could see you, but he’s pushed himself into the closet and to the side as much as possible. He is half-covered by a mothball-smelling crocheted cardigan and a mildew-smelling old raincoat. He hears the soft sounds of fabric and the wooden creak of dresser drawers, then you both silently shuffle out of the room and down the stairs. He waits a long time until he's sure the coast is clear and manages to get himself dressed, pull on his shoes, and make it downstairs.

He hides in a closet for several hours, hearing Amber and her mother all around the first floor, cleaning and cooking and gossipping to each other. Where are you? Are you in the hayloft like Amber said you like to be? Are you feeding goats or milking cows? He wants to see you but he knows he has to go, knows he’s stayed too long. Everyone has been back at his house for hours and Tess will most definitely be wondering where the fuck he went to.

It’s mid-afternoon by now and he knows he can’t waste anymore time. He ducks out of the closet and runs for the closest patch of trees as quickly as he can. As soon as he’s in the cover of the woods he starts thinking of the shit show he’s gonna walk into. Tess is gonna give him the third degree. He left no note, no indication of where he would be. What excuse is he even gonna give? He played sick so convincingly and now what is he gonna do? What can he tell her that will be believable?

His mind is racing with a hundred different thoughts and he’s trying to ignore the sting of the cold air in his lungs and the burning of his thighs as he presses forward up another hill. He’s sure that’s why he misses the trap. Because he knows where they all are, he helped set almost every single one. He has a map in his office with all of them marked off, directs the patrols to check and maintain them. He knows better. But he’s distracted. You’ve distracted him. This is all your fault. That’s all he can think as he feels the trap clamping over his ankle and the biting pain shooting up his leg. This is all your fuckin’ fault.

Joel loses his balance quickly as the counterweight trips and yanks his leg out from under him. He sees the whole world flip and feels the fire of tearing flesh licking up his leg. He comes to rest with his shoulders on the ground, his head brushing against the fallen leaves, but the lower half of his body lifted up in the air, strung up in the tree by his ankle. Shit, this is a good trap, he was so proud when he thought of it and now he can confirm that it’s quite debilitating and extremely painful.

—

The sun has started setting when Joel hears a single step behind him and he whips his head around, facing a lone figure, light hair braided over her shoulder, pack on her back stuffed full. Sasha.

“Hey honey… I didn’t hear ya coming,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, Joel,” she looks him over quickly, “That’s kinda the point.”

She opens her mouth to ask a question – probably something akin to what the fuck are you doing out here – but then she looks southward, towards the still-visible fields of the dairy farm, and back at him. She closes her mouth, deciding not to ask something she already knows the answer to. Instead she looks him up and down, taking in the scene in the fading light.

“You uhh… you want me to get you down from there?”

“Well what’s the alternative, honey?” He motions around. “You gonna leave me here?”

“I could…” her face remains impassive, considering her options, “But Tess would probably miss you.”

Joel lets out a huff and gives her a partial smile, it’s as much as he can manage having been stuck like this for far too long. Sasha throws her pack down and fishes some bolt cutters out of the back, reaching them above Joel’s ankle and cutting a chain link rather easily. Joel's body unceremoniously slams down to the forest floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she mutters, kneeling down to check him over. “What’d you think was gonna happen when I cut it?”

“I dunno honey but I’m not a fuckin’ gymnast. I’ve been hangin’ upside-down for hours, so I’m kinda at the whim of gravity right now.

“Well twinkle toes, good thing you’re not training for the olympics, because your leg looks absolutely fucked. We need to get you to the clinic ASAP.”

Yeah yeah yeah Joel grumbles, grunting and groaning as Sasha helps him to his feet, leaning into his side so she can support his weight on his bad side.

“Is your horse nearby?”

“Didn’t bring a horse,” he sighs.

“Joel, we’re still over a mile away from home and your leg–”

“Well we better get going then, huh?”

“But, Joel–”

“Time’s a wastin’ honey, let’s go.”

—

By the time the doctor finishes wrapping Joel’s ankle, he can already see the blood seeping through the bottom layers of the bandages. She’s given him some expired meds for the pain that are managing to take the edge off, but he’s still extremely uncomfortable. He’s not gonna tell her that though.

“I’m gonna need to see you tomorrow to clean and redress this wound.”

“I can come by after–”

“No,” she interrupts. “No, Joel, I’ll make a house call, you shouldn’t be walking on this at all. This needs to be elevated so the swelling can go down.” She wraps the second layer tighter and Joel bites back a noise. She notices. “That’s why it’s leaking like this, you didn’t elevate it,” she scolds, and then murmurs under her breath, “And you walked a mile on it.”

“Well I knew you made house calls but I didn’t think you’d make middle-of-the-forest calls.”

She makes a noise that sounds like hmmm, and grabs another roll of gauze to keep wrapping around. He’s not sure if she bought his story, that he and Sasha were scavenging together and he wasn’t looking where he was going, but she removed the trap from his ankle and gave him a tetanus shot and some antibiotics. He didn’t even realize she had all of that here but she opened a locked cabinet and there was a secret stash of medicines, just waiting for him.

Since he was hanging upside-down he didn’t lose much blood and the doctor told him she doubts there’s a broken bone, given that the trap clamped down above the ankle bones and more into the meat of his leg. She is worried about infection, of course, and said that the way it pulled on his leg could take a while for the muscles to heal. How long did Sasha leave you hanging there she kept asking and he kept explaining that they’d split up to cover more ground, and she’d found him when he missed their meet-up time.

“I think that’s enough, Doc, quit fussin’ over me,” he tells her as he shifts on the bed to get up. “Get Sasha for me and I’ll head home, and don’t worry, I’ll keep it elevated.”

“Sasha left after she dropped you off Joel,” she leans back and points to the doorway, where one of the clinic staff has rolled in a rusted wheelchair. “We’re gonna take you.”

“I’m not getting in that thing.”

“Oh cut it out, you already got your tetanus shot.”

—

He gets out of the chair and stumbles up the front steps, forbidding them from helping him through the door and promising to elevate his leg and keep it that way, trying to keep his voice in a whisper and not disturb the house. He hops inside and his fears are immediately realized when he sees Tess waiting for him at the dining room table. Their eyes meet and they stare at each other in silence for a long while before she rises out of her chair and points to an empty one.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says, walking into the kitchen.

Joel sits in the chair and Tess comes back in, motioning for him to put his leg up on the bench next to him, setting a cloth ice pack gently on his injured leg. She slowly sits down and resumes looking at him. A long silence passes between them.

“You gonna make me ask?”

“Ask what?” he says casually, then she pins him with a look and he drops all pretense, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure Sasha already told you.”

“She didn’t tell me why.”

“Why? You already know that too.”

“I know you were out there at the farm, Joel, sneakin’ around, messin’ with her stuff, fuckin’ with her head, I don’t know what all you get up to. But why, Joel? Why?”

“What do you care, anyway?”

“Why can’t you leave her alone?” she hisses

“Why is that any of your fuckin’ business?”

Tess slams her hand down on the table and hisses, “You made it my business when you brought her into my house.”

“Your house, is it?”

“You’re goddamn right it’s my house, and I take care of everyone in it. I sent her to the farm to get some relief from you and your behavior, and you can’t show one ounce of self control? Who the fuck are you?”

“I don’t think–”

“No, you’re not thinkin’, that’s the problem,” she interrupts. He’s stunned into silence. “I’ve taken a lotta shit in my life, Joel, and I’ll keep taking it if it’s for the greater good. I’ve followed you around for years and I’m loyal, but I ain’t stupid. I see you slipping. Everyone does. Everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve sacrificed for you… you gotta play your role.”

“I’m tired of it,” he whispers.

“You’re not tired of everything it gets you.”

He grumbles at that and mutters something like it doesn’t get me what I really want, and she knows he means you. She knows he still wants you, even when he pretends like he doesn’t. She sees the way he purposely avoids you and looks the other way when you come near. It’s all bullshit bravado, and she fuckin’ knows it. She knows he’s sad, lonely, heartbroken without you. But she needs him to either put up or shut up. Admit it or move on. She can’t have him stuck in this loop of destruction.

“Leave her be, Joel. It’s done with her, it’s over.”

—

Two weeks go by in a blur, Joel doesn’t sneak away to the farm, he avoids Amber at the Thursday meetings, he steers clear of you at the Sunday service. He goes where Tess tells him to go, meets with who she tells him to meet with. His leg heals well and he’s back on his feet much sooner than the doctor expected him to be. He spends his days working with the gardeners in town to get ready for spring planting, and the evenings working in his office to schedule patrols and plan maintenance for sections of the perimeter fencing.

He keeps his head down and keeps his mind occupied. He starts to feel better, and then he’ll lie in bed at night and he’ll hear the door to the tiny room across the hall close and remember you’re not there. It cuts like a knife in his hollow chest, the slow thumping of his heart echoing in its empty chamber. He feels bad for going the whole day without missing you and his stomach gets tied up in knots over everything that happened.

He tries so hard not to think of you, to keep his mind busy with anything else… until he can’t. Until everyone stands up as he introduces Bianca’s baby to the community and then everyone sits back down and there you are. You’re standing in the middle of a pew halfway back, staring daggers through him. Looking at him like he just slapped you in the face. He can’t help but look at you – for the first time in over two months – and watch you come undone.

He sees you run out of the sanctuary and only Tess’ iron grip clawing at his elbow keeps him from running after you. After the service he tells her he’ll meet them in the hall for lunch and she reluctantly leaves him, mouthing behave yourself as she goes.

And then you’re in front of him again, the both of you looking into each other’s eyes. There’s so much fire in yours, he hasn’t seen you look like this since the first day he saw them, backed into a corner of the clinic like a trapped animal, teeth bared and ready to pounce. You start snapping at him, biting him with your words, and he can’t fucking help himself. He bites at you right back. Every sharp barb of your tongue, every click of your fangs, he’s spurred on to hiss and claw in response. You call him a liar and then tell him you don’t care when it couldn't be more obvious that you do.

Why won’t you just admit that you care? Why won’t you just admit that you miss him? Why are you so afraid of the truth?

You brush by him, purposely knocking his arm with your shoulder as you exit and when he turns to follow you he sees Tess in the doorway. She walks up to him and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until her arms close around him and he’s sobbing into her shoulder.

“She hates me,” he heaves.

“She doesn’t hate you, Joel,” she hushes.

“She does. She thinks that was my baby.”

“Did you tell her it wasn’t?”

“No,” he sniffles.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Cause I’m incapable of doing the right thing. I just keep fucking up,” he sobs. “I keep doing the wrong thing every fucking time. I grab her, I hurt her, I say the wrong thing, I fuck it all up.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he wails.

“I do, I know why.”

“Why then?” Joel sniffles.

“It’s easier for you to push her away than it is to let her in.”

—

Joel is sitting in silence at the dinner table later that night, mindlessly picking at his plate, lost in his thoughts. The meal has long-since finished and the women are clearing the table, moving in and out of the kitchen and talking with each other. Beth is excitedly telling them about a barn cat who had kittens last year and everyone is gushing over the talk of adorable kittens.

Joel remembers Sarah finding two abandoned kittens after a soccer game one cloudy May afternoon, two flea-infested little rats hiding behind the practice field’s bathrooms. She’d carried them in her shirt back to him, all three of them crying, begging him to let her keep them. He said no a hundred times but still wound up driving all of them all the way across town to the only vet’s office open on a Saturday. Hundreds of dollars later they were stuffed full of medicine and food and were sleeping curled up in the crook of Sarah’s neck.

She told him she understood when he said they couldn’t keep them forever – allergies, he’d explained – but that didn’t stop big, fat tears from rolling down her face when she placed them into the arms of their new owners.

“You did such a good job taking care of them,” he’d told her, wiping away her tears. “You should be so proud. Look how big they got! You did that! You gave them a shot at a great life.”

“You did it too, dad,” she’d said, hugging him, telling him he also did a good job.

He didn’t do shit, he just couldn’t say no to her. And she thought he hung the moon. She thought he was some kind of a saint. Joel Miller, patron saint of disgusting, sickly little kittens. The man she thought he was… he could never be that man. Not then. Not now. Not after everything he’s done.

And then he realizes he’s sobbing again, at the dinner table, and everyone is staring at him.

“Y– You okay, Joel?” Beth asks.

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I was just… thinkin’ about Sarah.”

“Who’s Sarah?” Kerri says.

“Can everyone give us a minute?” Tess says.

The room quickly clears and Joel is still sputtering and sniffling at the head of the table. Tess sits down next to him and he slides off his chair, kneeling on the floor and burying his head in her lap, tears rolling down his face and soaking her jeans. He’s muttering I can’t lose her too and sobbing and Tess thinks this might be it, he might finally be ready to face it.

“What’s wrong, Joel?” Tess asks gently.

“She left me, I fucked up and she left, I don’t deserve her, she hates me, I’m a monster and she hates me and I don’t do anything right and I just fail over and over and she can’t stand me and all I do is–” his cries, devolve into a blubbering mess.

—

It’s just before midnight and the house is dark and quiet. Only a lamp in the living room casts a glow on them – Tess and Joel on the couch – where they’ve been sitting and talking for hours. He’s finally calmed down, having talked through months-worth, if not years-worth, of feelings with her. Things they’ve already talked about, things she’s suspected but never had confirmed, and secrets they’ve kept even from each other. It felt cathartic, like a weight lifted from the both of them, and they sit in companionable silence before they head up to bed.

A loud, frantic knocking at the front door makes both of them jump. Tess goes to answer it and all Joel hears is a tandem of words, spilling out like a waterfall so quickly he can only catch some of them. Not in bed… looked everywhere… can’t find... He gets up from his seat and heads to the door, freezing when he sees Danny and Diego’s harrowed faces standing on his darkened porch.

“W– what’s goin’ on?” Joel asks, looking between the two men and Tess.

Tess grabs his arm, bracing him.

“She left.”

🖤

As always, muchas gracias to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk for sticking with me through my highs and my lows, my slumps, and my manic incessant babbling about CJ.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog @vickie5446 @lilipads @blvckmvgicwoman

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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wwwjam · 7 months

Text

Chapter II: The Hare

Edit: Basic Route info and theoretical end speech beneath the cut.

To be frank, I mostly just wanted to draw Princess as a bunnygirl, but I did still have some thoughts about the route, though nothing too in-depth. Rather than come up with a new dialogue option, I figure it'd be best to take advantage of options that are already there. Currently, both instances of slaying the Princess when the Narrator compels you lead to Witch, but what if the second time led you somewhere else? Internal logic: Soft Princess has just dodged your first (initially unwilling) strike, proving to be swift enough to avoid you, though clearly in a panic. Despite her unease, she's much faster than you. Like you're a... tortoise, and she's the Hare... Just roll with it. (I don't think anyone's noticed/mentioned her crown has that turtle shape on it)

For the snow thing, I just wanted to give her a dress that'd allow her to run, but didn't want to go with a loincloth like design a la Adversary. I settled on that short, fur trimmed one and thought "what if there was snow" and hey, now there's some manner of conflict and explanation for why she's not chained up and is able to avoid you.

And extremely early draft of a theoretical Shifting Mound speech. For context, I imagine you have to sort of chase Hare out of the cabin. Make her choose between constantly avoiding you, or heading into the freezing winter air she's afraid of. "Survive, evade, run. Flee, escape, take shelter, hide, live another day. But death comes all the same, whether it waits outside your door, or comes barreling through it. Do you look it in the eye, meet it on your own terms, or do you keep running, do you keep hiding? You drove me to make a choice, and only in choosing to confront the cold death I feared was I truly alive. One always has a choice to make, even in fear.

But without that fear of the end, do one's choices truly matter? Can a life mean anything if your decision to survive, or to die, is as meaningless as your decision to breathe? Is being given that choice so unimportant to you?" -That fear is what pushes one to survive, but it makes life itself terrifying. "Or is it the terror itself that makes life worth surviving? The fear of not seeing what comes tomorrow?" -I would never take that choice from you, or from others. "Then make your own choice to join with me once again, and give back that choice to the world."

#slay the princess #fanart #fan character

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lehguru · 5 months

Text

FIRST DATE + KAIJU NO.8 MEN

where they would take you on a first date ft. hibino, ichikawa, narumi, hoshina & isao shinomiya

info: finally writing for one of my favest dilfs hehehe ily isao i can b ur new wife pls one chance; not proofread as always + requests are open!!

kafka hibino is a simple man. he would enjoy a simple cafe or restaurant date, but during the day. hibino wants to have lunch with you, talking and getting a break from your day—it would be extremely relaxing for him. if you two still have time to spare even after finishing, he would take you to a walk, trying his best to subtly show you he wants to hold your hand. in the end, it doesn't matter if you two kiss or not; just spending time with you was enough for him.

reno ichikawa is extremely nervous about going out with you for the first time. he planned it all, asked you out and made sure everything was perfect, but he still got a annoying feeling on his stomach and a buzz on his ears. when you arrived at the museum he suggested, thirty minutes early, he was already there, holding a flower bouquet of your favorite color—if you asked, he would say he had just arrived too, but he would be there two hours earlier. the date ended up being perfect, everything from the museum itself to the way he treated you would be magical.

it doesn't come as a surprise, but gen narumi would drag you to an arcade. he would spend more time trying to win in every single game you two play together than actually anything date related—it makes you wonder if he forgot that you two were supposed to be there as a romantic thing. if he notices you're not having as much fun as him, he would try to get a plushie you want from a claw machine; your fun would come in the form of narumi failing multiple times to get any plushie at all.

soshiro hoshina would take you to the theater for a first date. he wanted to watch a comedy movie, his smile never leaving his lips as he talked about how he liked the actors in it. if there's another movie you want to watch too, he wouldn't mind watching both, so it could be a enjoyable night for both of you. he insists on paying for everything and grabs your favorite candies and beverage; but if you don't watch out, he might eat it all by himself.

isao shinomiya takes you to a fancy restaurant. the thing is: he gets a reservation for the whole restaurant. when he comes to pick you up at your place, he compliments your beauty—he still have the serious expression he always wears, but you can see how his eyes soften up a little—and opens the door for you. at the restaurant, you find it odd that only two waiters are working and there's no one there (you know it's a very good place, so it's even stranger). as if he read your thoughts, the man would whisper that he reserved the whole place so you two would be able to have a little more privacy. the whole night would be amazing, he would hear and ask questions about your day and life, even giving you a soft smile and chuckle if you said something funny that happened to you.

2024 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

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ronearoundblindly · 23 days

Note

I loved how you answered for Jake 🥺

If your still doing them, no pressure!!! How about Fools rush in! Steve for..

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

Questions are from this ask game and for the Fools Rush In series with Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader.

Lol ok, I love his frustrated face, but I will also attempt to include some new info in this since I don't want to beat the Fool's struggle bus to death. *mild cursing

**Dude, this took an ANGSTY turn and I'm sorry-not-sorry.

This, too, is an evolution. Those very early days, you were both so tentative. Steve showed affection by spending time with you—as best he could while so busy—because that’s his love language. Being near was enough for probably a lot longer than it should have been. The exact reasons are hard to parse, but basically, Steve needs permission to show physical affection and then he still had trouble communicating why he was so unsure of himself. Not you. He’s sure he wants to show you affection. He’s unsure how to.

He needs you to take the lead, just at first, just until his confidence builds. He’s so private with his personal life that he became comfortable completely closed off. Each little step is a big deal.

First, he needs verbal assurance, then gentle touch—innocent things like dancing to a song, holding hands, or a sweet hug. After that, Steve could kiss you without explicit permission. He could always read your body language. He knew all the non-verbal cues that meant you wanted more. Finally, though, Steve realized what he was doing wrong.

He kept everything so private for so long, Steve was living out affection toward you in his mind without making any moves.

He’d see you sitting at a table and think how nice it would be to kiss the crown of your head and rest his hand on your shoulder. He’d walk in the woods with you and think about how your fingers would lace with his. He’d enter a room where you were mid-conversation with others and think to wrap his arms around you from behind.

But he didn’t do any of that, only imagined it.

Steve would experience all these little familiarities as if they happened, but it took him a very, very long time to understand you didn’t know he wanted to do them. He took equally as long to realize something very important: he’d been teaching you not to touch him.

Because he held back, you held back.

After all of that is figured out—and god knows, it’s A LOT of stuff to figure out,—you both are quietly affectionate.

Quietly because…

…public displays of affection are essentially a no-no. Captain America is a public figure while Steve Rogers is an unbelievably private man. He’s more reserved by sheer fact of Cap being so f**king visible.

Honestly, that's the long and short of it.

If he could be in public and no one would care, yes, Steve would throw his arm around you and kiss your cheek once every few minutes. He'd hold your hand right on top of the table at any restaurant, or he'd pull you to sit in his lap whenever possible.

The problem is that it feels like everyone cares, and even though Steve has no clue why there always seems to be an antagonistic attitude in the media about you, he's not going to encourage their shitty behavior. He would rather give them nothing, and so he keeps things very simple in public.

He can't win, however, since this is one of the biggest things that upsets you. It looks like he's cold, and you tell him it feels as if he doesn't love you when public events drag on too long.

Steve used to just push through the discomfort of being 'out,' but he's now aware enough to take breaks. He'll find a hallway or a quiet corner (or a bathroom, if desperate) where you two can check in, some place secluded where you can breathe with him or be sweet with each other. That's only for if it's the public crap that's upsetting you.

Sometimes, it's work that upsets you, and that requires listening to comfort you. Most of those times you neither want nor need advice; he simply has to listen. He can relate to most of it anyway because he works with various teams constantly, and there is always friction between groups of people.

Steve has/had a large slew of deaths in the years after being woken from the ice. Veterans aged and passed away constantly, and he touched the lives of so many during the '40s, Steve was/is invited to speak or attend many funerals. He makes a point of going as often as he can and has a running list of families in different areas that he could visit or write to when time allows. It's important to him and exhausting. The frequency of funerals (including those of agents who were young or not retired) very much upsets Steve. The way he handles it publicly is stoicism and gratitude. In private, you listen to the real stories.

Oftentimes Steve feels guilty for romanticizing or idealizing war, but he also knows that the truth of what soldiers go through isn't appropriate for eulogies. It is healing to him to explain to you how imperfect, how mundane, and, yes, how horrific what those men and women went through really was. He heals by admitting some of them were racists or told truly sick jokes to anyone who would listen. He heals by confessing some of them stole from their friends or off the bodies of the fallen. He heals when he can be honest, when he can say that none of it really feels like winning unless you turn humans just like you into enemies.

Operation Paperclip (where Nazi scientist were recruited in order to help America develop more weapons and technologies) upsets Steve, deeply, wildly, frustratingly, because he understands why it happened. Steve is upset at how often he's wrong about people. He believes in those morals and ideals of humanity, and he's disappointed by how often he finds the bullied becoming bullies.

None of that has ever been cut and dry, but the reality weighs on him. You listen. For the most part, that's all you can do. You also hold him. You say you're proud of him. You're proud of him for choosing to be good over and over and over again even when it seems useless, even when it is hard.

Steve is comforted when you bring him back to a very small part of the world and you focus on his 'small' life with you. He actually takes very well to light jokes about how he doesn't fold some clothes the way you like and so no one's perfect. He's grounded in the knowledge--when you remind him--that, to date, he has never managed to put away an entire load of dishes in the correct spot, and that it's weird that it's a different utensil or plate that he misplaces every time.

When you assure Steve that he is just one man, just one sorta-average man, he is greatly comforted. That's a big one for him.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain

#ro answers #ask game #fools rush in series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 24 days

Text

Yandere Coworker (part 12)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(2041 words)

Tw: afab reader, reader is pretty mean to Cyprus, Cyprus becoming angry and yelling at reader

Please vote on the poll down below

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 13

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, Cyprus must have thought you were doing that excessively, as he would grab your wrist and pull it away from your face. He gave you a look from the corner of his eyes before returning his attention to the road.

You slumped in your seat, resting your cheek on the seatbelt. Cyprus's hand would find its way back to your thigh, where he would knead and squeeze them as much as he liked. You simply stared at it, because it would always return no matter how much you slapped it away.

You brought your chin up and looked forward. This farmer's market must be far, all you could see is a long strip of asphalt and grass around the car. The sun was shining bright and the air was silent, he refused to turn the radio on or play some music, because he wanted you to talk to him. Cyprus wanted a conversation, to connect with you better by sharing things about each other. But you're just not interested, you wanted to go home and catch up with sleep. Having Cyprus in your life is such a curse, everything was thrown off balance and he kept bullying you. Plus, he kept your phone away, and you're forced to simmer in reality.

"What's your zodiac sign?" He asked, resting his hand on your thigh.

You shrugged. Claiming not to be interested in it just so he would leave you alone in peace.

"Hm." He flicked his turn signal switch to the right before making a turn. "I'm a Cancer, my birthday's on the third of July. And if you're wondering what to get me, I just want your cute little ass on my face." Cyprus sported a playful smirk on his handsome face.

You told him you hope he gets cancer on his birthday. Which made him roll his eyes and click his tongue.

"Someone's cranky." It was followed by a laugh from him. "Sleepy?"

You snapped, telling him you didn't want to go on this stupid date this early in the morning. Wishing that you had never met Cyprus because everything was fine before then, but he had to come around and ruin it. He should just shrivel up and die.

There were a few beats of silence before he began speaking again.

"Wow, where the fuck did that come from, princess? That was a lot to take in." He tried to keep the tone lighthearted, but you could hear a twinge of hurt in his voice. "I must have woken you on the wrong side of the bed today, you were never this mean to me." Something in the way he said that suggests Cyprus is trying to get you to tell him the real reason why you're so moody today.

You sealed your lips shut and looked out of the window. You wanted nothing to do with him and he probably got the hint, as he removed his hand from your lap and placed it on the steering wheel.

Your eyes somehow itched way more than usual, so you went on to rub your eyes again with both hands.

"Stop that-"

You snapped at him again, curling yourself into a ball, pressing yourself far away from Cyprus. He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately decided against doing so.

He looked troubled but you didn't care. Unfortunately, you're too upset to give a damn and you don't know why.

The rest of the ride was driven in silence, neither you or him said a word. And eventually, Cyprus has reached his destination, driving further past the tents and stalls to enter an underground parking lot.

"We're here." Cyprus pulled his handbrake up and killed the engine. He took the keys out of the ignition, but made no move to open the door.

Because he was staring at you, who is now refusing to budge. Hiding yourself in your corner with your knees brought to your chest.

He brought a hand up to your head, petting your hair affectionately. "Baby? I said we're here-"

You yelled at him, saying you heard him the first time. All that while harshly shoving his hand away from you.

"What the fuck is up with you today!?" And it seems like that was the last straw for him, Cyprus furrowed his eyebrows and crowded you from his seat, making the only escape route the door, but it was locked and you somehow couldn't open it no matter how much you tugged on the handle or toggled with the lock.

You said you hated him, he has ruined your life. Perhaps you were trying to mimic what his exes did, you don't know how they could withstand the pressure of his menacing presence. Or maybe they liked it, you definitely didn't.

He sternly called you by your name. "Look at me."

You refused, burying your face in your arms.

"Look at me!" He scolded, this time Cyprus seized you by the jaw and forced your face to his. His grip on you was almost bruising, forcing you to pucker your lips as his fingers dug into your cheeks.

He glared straight at you, steely grey eyes darting all over to examine whatever might be causing your sudden and severe hostility. Though his expression softened when he realized what's been behind your intolerance today.

"Ah." He sounded out, "That figures." relieved and annoyed at the same time. Cyprus brought his thumb on your lower eyelid and gently pulled it down. He then pushed your upper eyelid up.

"Pink eye. I told you not to hang around Nancy." Nancy was one of your nosier coworkers, she had just come back from a medical leave and Cyprus was already telling you to avoid her. You didn't listen despite how she would have coughing fits and bad coughing etiquette. In hindsight, maybe you should have heed his words, but you were desperate to regain some agency over yourself. So you rebelled.

He continued checking your eyeball even after he knew what he was looking at.

It felt invasive, so you thrashed in his grip enough for him to loosen it.

He sighed, taking his keys out of his pocket, jabbing it into his ignition and restarting it again. You winced when Cyprus revved up his engine and allowed its roar to bounce off the basement carpark walls.

"I knew you didn't mean any of it; the crap you said to me. But you really need to say what's bugging you next time... not just take it out on me." He brought his handbrake down and shifted gears.

You remained static in your position and stayed quiet.

"I know you wouldn't, though. It's like it'll kill you to open up." Cyprus drove away from his perfect parking spot, pressing on the gas pedal as if he was in a rush.

"It's fine, I totally love playing detective." Snarked Cyprus sarcastically.

You merely rubbed your eye with a finger.

"One more drop, princess." He whispered, holding cupping your cheek and using his thumb to pull your lower eyelid down. Once the last droplet of your antibiotics reached your eye, you blinked hard and held onto his wrist.

"That's a good girl," Cyprus whispered as he pecked you on the forehead, before screwing the cap back on the bottle. A few seconds later, you started to feel the relief in your diseased eyeball.

Cyprus had driven you to a nearby pharmacist, where he would buy medicated eye drops for your conjunctivitis. He had insisted that he is the one to administer it because he claimed that you wouldn't know how to do it correctly despite being there when the pharmacist verbally gave you the instructions. It wasn't cheap, but he still footed the bill himself.

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, allowing the medicine to spread evenly. Cyprus brushed any stray hairs away from your face with his fingers, you were too distracted with the sensation you have in your eye to push him away.

"Well?"

You looked at him. He has his arms crossed and is leaning against the side of his car.

"Aren't you going to apologize? You were so fucking mean to me earlier." He looked away momentarily, seemingly trying to hide something on his face before bringing back his focus on you.

You froze and couldn't get anything out, yes, you were unreasonably rude to him. But that may be your only ticket out of this forced relationship... Well, your last resort is to go to the police but you don't think it has come to that yet. It's not... Illegal to be a jerk to Cyprus as long as you check yourself from time to time.

You were brought out of your thoughts by an incoherent grumble from Cyprus, he massaged his brow. "Okay, we don't have to do that now, you're definitely still a little prickly for some reason and I think I know why." He took a deep breath and exhaled as he opened the door to his passenger seat.

You stared blankly at the interior of his car, he gestured for you to go in. "Come on, get in. I'm going to have to fight for another parking spot, and that's going to take a while."

You looked around you, god knows where you are right now and you have no smartphone to navigate your way back home. There isn't a bus stop in sight either. Perhaps you could slowly inch your way to the general direction of your home? Your shoes are intact and pretty comfortable, there has to be a bus stop somewhere.

"You are not walking home, I'll fucking wrangle you into this car if I have to." As if he was reading your mind, Cyprus quickly closed the space between the two of you, so that your face is almost smothered in his broad chest.

You begrudgingly agreed and went into the Passenger's side on your own. He closed the door for you and shook his head while walking towards the driver's seat.

The distance between the pharmacy and the market wasn't that far at all, it was short enough that Cyprus didn't try to initiate any small talk or touch you either. Or maybe he was still freshly wounded by your recalcitrance.

Cyprus only reached out to pull your hand away when you're about to rub your eyes again.

"Here." He picked up his thermos flask in his cup holder and handed it to you. "Drink up, you only had a tiny sip of water today."

You cautiously took it from his hand and opened it to access the crisp, refreshing water with ice cubes bobbing around.

He was right, Cyprus isn't looking for a motherly partner to supplement his life. He is the motherly one who you now realize took care of you very well no matter how much you didn't like his personality.

From cutting your steaks without needing to ask, making your meals, taking you to the clinic, and paying for anything you can think of. Yes, it's irritating that he would drag you to dates that you didn't even want to go on in the first place, but his intentions were for you to experience the world and all its novelty alongside him. He just wanted you to have fun differently and he isn't stingy with his money.

However, that doesn't discount the fact that he's doing all these against your will, touching you despite your numerous "No"s and rejections, forcing you to play along with this romantic fantasy of his in the office and holding your items hostage, so he could keep you in his apartment.

You brought your attention to him again, he's sulking. A stark contrast from his cheery, teasing attitude from this morning.

Somehow, you felt guilty for lashing out at Cyprus earlier. He did make you cry, though. So this could have been payback for it. However, he apologized, albeit sounding patronizing and infantilizing.

But if you apologize, it will only send a message that you're genuinely interested in being with Cyprus. Worsening his chronic disability to heed your rejections.

You thought about your next move.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader #oc cyprus #male yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #tw afab reader #tw fem reader #yandere x female reader #thank you so much for your commission

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brainrotcharacters · 9 months

Note

HIII! could you please write a nami x f reader?

maybe just them being domestic? like the side of nami most don't get to see, r always has

they've been together for a couple of years now

things like cuddling (facing each other), night routines, etc

r is shorter than nami too, top of head just barely (if even) reaching her chin (this is needed info for any hugs🤭)

pls and thank you! :) <<<333

ship: Nami x fem!reader

summary: A day in the life aboard the Going Merry, as Nami's girlfriend from home.

a/n: requested by @fairy-geek-ackerman

tags: reader is shorter than Nami, established relationship, cuddling, events occur after one piece live action season 1, events occur in the span of a day, I now headcanon Nami as gift giving love language, reader is physical touch love language, we vibe with Sanji because Sanji vibes with us, Zoro cameo

"There you are." You yawn, ascending the stairs to the stern of the boat. Nami smiled at the sound of your voice, one hand idle on the helm as she examined her maps.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know." The early morning sunlight was soft against her features as she peered up at you. The wind blew stronger for a moment, and her free hand shot out to pin the map page on the nearby desk.

You lift one of your daggers― decorative, inlaid with polished stone, and heavy enough to act as paperweight. You place it on the upper left corner of the largest of the maps. "I know. Luffy would get you back."

Nami chuckled. After Luffy and the rest of Nami's boys had freed Coco Village from Arlong's crew, they learned about the girlfriend that Nami left at home. It didn't take much for them to convince their navigator (Nami wanted for you to come with them anyway) to invite you onboard.

"Oh, wow." She stepped back, watching you pluck up all sorts of things from your pockets to help pin the maps in place. Aside from the dagger, she also recognized a bracelet with a real citrine stone, and a glass vial of dried blue paint courtesy of Nojiko. "You never threw anything away, did you?"

"You said you liked giving me gifts," you lean back against the desk, protecting the rest of the maps from the wind. "So I'll keep every gift you give me."

Her eyes softened, a combination of fondness and understanding as she studied you. "You're very... you."

Your lips curl up in a small smile. "I love you too."

Nami reached out a hand, and you stepped into her arms, the top of your head barely reaching her chin. Her grip around your waist was more affectionate and confident than before. You lift your chin, nuzzling into her neck.

The scent of tangerines clung to Nami's skin. She must have checked on the garden earlier. You breathe in the scent of home, the scent of her, and your own arms wrap around her body a bit tighter.

After what felt like an eternity but was only actually a minute, an elegant male voice interrupted the peaceful creaking of the ship's hull. "Isn't that adorable? I've never seen you be so affectionate before."

Sanji was smiling up at you both from the foot of the stairs, bearing a tray in one hand. Two steaming cups sat on the tray. "Good morning to you two lovely ladies. Made you your coffee, as requested. For Nami, two milks, one sugar; for Y/n, two milks, two sugar."

He reached halfway up the stairs before you happily accepted the tray from him. "Much appreciated, Sanji. Thank you."

"Of course," he tilted his head in a graceful nod. "Breakfast will be ready in an hour. I suggest you get there ten minutes before Luffy does."

Nami returned to the helm, smiling as she reached for her cup of coffee. "We'll be there. How'd you know what coffee I liked?"

Sanji motioned towards you, and you offered your girlfriend a sheepish, shameless smile. Nami smiled over the lip of her cup, rolling her eyes.

Even with your nose buried in the novel you were reading, you can feel Zoro's attention on you and Nami.

Both of you were sitting on the stairs at the ship's bow, Nami seated behind you so she could braid your hair close to your head. Her legs are braced on either side of your body, and from the way you felt them stiffen, you could tell she had a thin tolerance for Zoro's glancing. "What?"

He didn't need to be addressed, but still reacted. "Nothing."

You sucked on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing. You can feel Nami's frustration make her fingers heavier. Three... Two... One... "Since when do you know how to braid?"

You couldn't help but snicker, patting Nami's knee at your side. She understood your cue, and let you explain. "My dad taught us. Nojiko and Nami often visited the house when we were kids."

Zoro studied you for a moment, then turned his attention back towards the island several miles away. "All right."

Luffy wanted to dock here because he said he smelled something delicious, which Sanji interpreted as a personal challenge. Usopp had joined them out of whimsy. Luffy asked the three of you to stay aboard and protect the ship, but you heard Nami mutter how he just didn't want her and Zoro to keep him in line. "Think they're okay?" Zoro asked.

The tallest building on the island suddenly exploded.

Zoro looked surprised for all of two seconds before he groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. Nami's fingers froze in the middle of another braid in your hair. "Seriously...?"

You offer her a hair tie, giggling. "Just tie it where you stopped, and let's go."

That evening, when everyone had settled in to sleep, you and Nami laid together in bed. Your arms were snugly wrapped around her bare back, skin flush against your own. You returned to your natural position, lifting your chin to nuzzle her neck as she slowly untangles the braids in your hair.

Along with the creaking of the Merry and the sound of the ocean waves, Nami's breathing was incredibly soothing to hear. "So. You survived another day with these idiots. What now?"

You let out a quiet chuckle as you fell further into sleep. "You won't get rid of me so easily, Nami."

Her chest rose and fell as she sighed. "Good."

"Mhhm." you snuggled closer against her, and Nami tangled her legs around yours.

When you were able to find a comfortable position, you started kissing the skin of her collarbones softly. Nami smiled, smoothing out your hair. "Good night, Y/n. Love you."

"I love you, Nami." You murmur into her skin.

#one piece live action #one piece #opla nami #opla nami x reader #one piece live action nami #opla x reader #one piece live action x reader #nami x reader #nami x fem!reader #nami x f reader #opla nami x fem!reader #one piece live action nami x fem reader #you have to know that the best part of your request was the height difference #my touch deprived ass connected cuddling to height difference

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blkkizzat · 29 days

Text

one pet peeve i have about certain anime/manga is the lost potential of a manga-ka not properly developing/exploring the world and characters they created.

after gege finishes this bullshit i want someone to buy them out and remake the jjk anime. ideally (spoilers): season 1 & 2

make jjk 0 the start of the series and yuta the main character (as was originally planned).

flesh out the student relationships that year with yuta, maki, inumaki and panda more

inumaki backstory (apparently he is from a sorcerer family too)

fleshout inumaki feelings/struggles with not being able to speak actual words

laying foundation for future maki/mai resolution later in series and the treatment of non-cursed energy users by zenin family. brief mentions of toji and perhaps megumi.

more history of how jujutsu society works as there's a whole hierarchy alluded to we never find out about and also would help on how they are in or have ties to the government which is revealed later in shibuya arc.

more confrontation between gojo and geto. theres 10 whole entire years between geto's defection and jjk 0. these two were practically inseparable (whether you see them as soul-besties or lovers) and theres an active bounty on geto. there had to be more passing moments, tension and smaller battles/struggles there.

show adoptive family relationship between geto, nanako and mimiko.

in fact theres a whole unexplored dichotomy between geto's mentorship to his sorcerer family he made from his followers and the found family of jujutsu high under gojo.

yuta struggling more with the guilt/burden of rika and mastering his ct

okay then finally we can have 'night parade of a hundred demons' and that resolution.

season 3 - hidden inventory arc

honestly this arc was pretty solid and can stay mostly the same but could be expanded by 3-4 episodes

show more of the dynamic between geto, gojo and shoko give us some more history/backstory of shoko.

give us an episode with haribara. like yes its sad he died but we didnt no anything about him really for it to be as impactful as it should have been as its literally the reason nanami stayed on to be a jujutsu sorcerer and what finally made geto snap.

give more backstory on gojo's family and expectations of him and how him being "othered" as the most powerful makes him more disconnected from people

something a bit more substantial to show even through gojo and geto were super close gojo couldn't emotionally empathize enough to see how much geto actually was struggling and the fact he failed him there

also see yuki interact with the rest of them more as she literally popped up out of the blue

movie break before season 4 for toji backstory movie

season 4 - the actual first season of jjk

i know yuji isnt the brightest crayon in the box but you'd think he'd actually go to the high school library/raid gojo's family library for ancient text/info on the actual curse living inside him. we should learn more of sukuna in this way, hell you could even rope in his old occult club for this.

more of sukuna mocking yuji. we see sukuna show interest in megumi which is good foreshadowing but we have nothing to hint of their actual relationship connection. i don't think sukuna would just be silent i think he would be mocking yuji internally alot.

sukuna should take over yuji's body temporarily due to their vow and we should have an early intoduction to uraume.

can we develop junpei more? he can have the same fate eventually but i feel like he should have joined jjk high briefly (still being manipulated on the side by mahito) before turning on yuji and this also is a good parallel to yuta story of how not everyone can be saved/converted.

introduce ino and show his and nanami relationship. how nanami struggles with it after haibara death

an episode or two just seeing the kyoto students interact and develop more of the relationship between mechamaru and miwa.

more information on how/why megumi sister got cursed. i assume megumi looses his shit later bc his sister is the only family he had that he gave a damn about but we need to see some more flashback scenes with them. i gotta be honest idgaf about her at this point and we certainly didnt see enough for megumi to completely lose the will to live or be as suicidal summoning mahoraga at every inconvenience lol.

season 5 - shibuya arc

things here would have made a lot more sense/felt better if things earlier were developed more as i mentioned so i dont think there needs to be a ton of changes.

we DO need to see how inumaki lost his arm because its so confusing he all of a sudden doesn't have one.

in all honesty zombie!toji should have been able to sense jogo if we are running with the theory he is programmed in that state to fight the strongest. sure megumi may have more potential than jogo but same could be said for dagon then. there was really no need for jogo show up at that point just to leave two minutes later.

nanami not dying to jogo/mahito. i appreciate how they did it and isolated i dont hate it tbh. its fitting although sad af. however choso's death and the subsequent power up yuji gets invalidates nanami's death/power up. Power ups from deaths are fine but it happening twice in pivotal moments is lazy writing. Nanami's death subsequently isn't as meaningful and choso's death (as his bro it is going to hit harder regardless). plus killing sukuna is way more substantial than than mahito.

given what happens later it also would have probably been good for megumi to realize thats his daddy back from the dead. maybe he realizes as toji's offing himself due to tid bits/things gojo or others have revealed to him in the past. but theres no other good time to do this before he becomes sukuna's vessel.

season 6 - culling games & gojo's release

explain in a less convoluted way idk how they are going to do this for anime cause i read the manga and bitch im STILL confused??

honestly though id say keep nanami alive tho just so he can meet higaruma because we need nanami + higaruma scenes they would fr be gojo and geto level besties istg.

would like a bit more on noritoshi kamo backstory and he seems to have this twisted fondness for his "children" so to speak so a bit more on that creepy mofo.

season 7 - prep for sukuna fight & sukuna gojo's fight

we skipped MONTHS here. wtf!? we need to see:

choso and yuji relationship

choso mourning yuki and realizing he probably wont be able to keep her promise as he has to protect yuji

yuji's training

maybe see more of sukuna's past

gojo reflection thoughts on all tf that has happened and his mental state.

season 8 - post gojo, current fight with sukuna

if nanami has to die he can go out fighting sukuna.

thats really all i have so far. the previous changes would make choso's death make more sense and although i hate it, it would serve its purpose more than an earlier nanami death.

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#okay so choso death got me thinking right #and had to make this #kizzatrambles #♋︎ kizzatcanons #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto suguru #choso kamo #toji fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #nanami kento #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers

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paintingwhiteceilings · 8 months

Text

❃How EXO acts around their crush❃

a/n: This is 10000% just for my own pleasure. I may have had this in my drafts for weeks... I am totally okay with all the Kyungsoo solo content and EXO ladder dropping. Totally. Super functional, delusional who?

ALSO to any EXO-L that are sharing Chen's LEAKED wedding photos. Please be respectful and either delete them or, at the very least, blur out his wife's face. Chen has gone to great lengths to safeguard her privacy, as she is not famous nor wants to be in the spotlight. Not to mention that there could be crazy sasaengs out there with ill intent. Sharing her info is basically doxing, and it is insane to me how many people shared these posts without much thought. Anyway, I needed to share my frustrations.

Xiumin/Minseok:

✾ He is a lot shyer than the other members; where most of EXO probably feels comfortable enough to act on their crushes, he is a bit more reserved. He wants to test the waters first, ascertaining whether the feeling is mutual. Whenever you are around and are talking to other people, he sits back silently, observing your reactions.

✾ Xiumin is smiling so widely around you that the other members worry that his muscles might start cramping up soon. The moment he sees you, his bubbly personality starts to really shine through, and sometimes you can't help but wonder whether this man truly is 33.

✾ That being said, from the moment that anyone offers Xiumin a couple of drinks, his confidence spikes, and he will start flirting with you. His flirting is still extremely sweet and cute; Xiumin can be incredibly charming when he wants to be.

Suho/Junmyeon

✾ He is such a gentleman around you, trying to make you feel at ease with his kind gestures. Whether it is him pulling back a chair or opening a door for you, he will do anything to make you feel like a princess.

✾ Being one of EXO's proud black card owners, he will casually buy you whatever you need. He keeps repeating that he wants to treat his friends when you try to interject. You can't completely refute it; he does spend a lot of money on the members. Yet, you can't help but feel like his gifts are slightly too expensive and excessive for 'just friends'.

✾ So. Many. Soft. Glances. Suho looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars; you catch him staring at you almost every time you look over. Conversations with him can, therefore, be a tad awkward. He doesn't always register what you are saying; he is so absorbed in watching you that he forgets to listen.

✾ The other members relentlessly tease him for it. If you don't catch on based on Suho's actions, you will definitely catch on due to his members' relentless teasing. Whenever he does anything remotely romantic around you, their faces light up like Christmas came early. The members are not subtle about it whatsoever, thoroughly enjoying putting their leader in a slightly uncomfortable position.

Baekhyun:

✾ The members didn't think it was possible, but Baekhyun somehow became louder. It is as if he wants to draw your attention simply by screaming, as he no longer has any volume control when you are around. Everyone can hear your conversation from across the room, and his laughter becomes borderline obnoxious as it overpowers any other sound.

✾ He is such a tease and a suggestive one at that. Considering he has no problem revealing intimate, not suitable to be aired on national TV, details about the members' bodies, he won't have any trouble suggestively flirting with you. Where Xiumin's pick-up lines are cute, Baekhyun's are far from it. Give this man some holy water, Jesus.

✾ He is so intense with his flirting that it sometimes crosses the line of sexy to parody, coming off as a joke. Baekyhyun has a very flirty personality and isn't above flirting with his friends. Even though he isn't subtle about his crush, he can accidentally fall into the "he flirts with everyone" category, making you question whether he genuinely likes you or is just being friendly.

✾ He really enjoys the chase when it comes to relationships. Thus, it will take him quite some time before he asks you out, simply because he likes the push-and-pull game.

Chanyeol

✾ There is nothing subtle about Mr. Park Chanyeol. The moment he sees someone he wants to date, he is going for it full steam ahead. Puppy Chanyeol is momentarily retired as he makes his way over to you; Chanyeol knows that he is handsome and sexy, and he is ready to show it to you. I hope you weren't interested in anyone else because the moment you return any of his interest, he will be flirting with you like there is no tomorrow.

✾ Internally, he is so excited to be talking to you, and sometimes, you will see glimpses of his cute puppy-like persona, especially once he feels like you are just as interested. Still, the words coming out of this man's mouth, Jesus part two. Please go and ask Baekyhun to pass the holy water.

✾ That being said, he will get embarrassed when the other members are around or slightly bashful when you return his flirting at full force. I don't think Chanyeol is used to anyone sharing his level of intensity, so once you do, he gets a bit flustered. He absolutely loves it, though. Your compliments got him grinning from ear to ear.

D.O./Kyungsoo

✾ Don't get me wrong, I adore this man to a delusional extent, but he is absolutely hopeless when it comes to communicating with his crush. He won't go anywhere near you if he can't help it; he prefers looking at you from afar. He is someone who favours being approached first over approaching you himself. It isn't that he doesn't want to talk to you; he simply isn't the type of person to initiate contact with his crush and tends to stay back when he can tell that someone else is interested, too.

✾ Even if he finds himself near you, don't expect him to have a full-blown conversation with you. He already tends to be a man of little words, but when it comes to you, he is a man of not a single word. Being around you is enough to make him happy; he doesn't really need to have a deep conversation.

✾ Nevertheless, his actions make more than up for it. He is such a gentleman, being the definition of preferential treatment. You don't have a chair to sit on? He will quietly offer you his. Your sweater got caught on something? He will silently help you get it out. Although he may not say much to you, he communicates his feelings through his actions.

Kai/Jongin

✾ If you think Xiumin or Kyungsoo are shy, you have not yet met Kai with a crush. He turns into absolute mush the moment he sees you, giggling and blushing whenever you do as much as breathing. You can't even see him because he has resorted to hiding behind the other members, preferably Sehun or Chanyeol, as they are tall enough to obscure him completely.

✾ If he somehow musters up the courage to talk to you, good luck having it go anywhere because he can barely make it through a sentence without giggling. It is obvious to everyone around him that he is smitten with you; his laughs are awkwardly loud, and his eyes are literally shooting hearts.

✾ The moment he manages to ask you to dance, his shy demeanour completely changes. His movement… His expressions… The way he is smirking at you… Maybe you should go and ask Chanyeol whether there is anything left of the holy water he borrowed from Baekyhun.

Sehun

✾ He has one of two ways of acting around his crush: either he acts super bratty or becomes painfully shy. It depends on whether he has met and talked to you before. But, if you are complete strangers, he would be so quiet, hiding in the furthest corner he can find.

✾ He will pester the members to go over and collect as much information as they can about you. They will do it because he will whine the entire night about it if they don't and, repeat with me, what Sehun wants, Sehun gets. The members try to convince Sehun to go talk to you himself, but Sehun stubbornly refuses. Bro will be playing the Maknae card harder than he ever has in his entire life.

✾ In the end, he will drag Suho with him, trying to 'casually' strike up a conversation with you. The small talk is painful, and in all honesty, Suho, with his dad jokes, isn't helping in the slightest. At the very least, it provides the two of you with a new conversational topic: the teasing of Suho.

masterlist

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underdark-dreams · 9 months

Note

*please* give me Dammon-Rolan-Tav Poly HCs, I am begging you

Turns out I have a LOT of thoughts about this omg. Thank you so much for sending this ask, I might need to write something longer for these three 💘

Rolan/Dammon/Tav: Poly Headcanons

(Tav is gender-neutral)

SFW:

Without fail Dammon would be the one to wake up early and make you two breakfast. Hums a happy tune as he balances plates of scrambled eggs into the bedroom

Gives you both a sweet kiss good morning, the same way he does every day

Meanwhile Rolan grumbles something into the soft flesh of your thigh. Very much not a morning wizard

They are both very proud of their respective skills and love getting to share them with you in different ways

Dammon is used to hammering away for hours alone in his forge, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get a bit lonely

Would be delighted to find you and Rolan lingering to spend time with him and watch his work

The clang of tools and the roaring fire aren't always conducive to conversation, but it just makes him happy to look up now and then and see you reading or relaxing nearby

If you asked for any kind of lesson, he would be excited almost to the point of giddy. Info dumping a little as he settles you comfortably against his front facing the anvil

Strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his hands gripping over yours to guide the strike of the hammer

When he's between commissions, Dammon likes to tinker and experiment with novel ideas. He's got an inventor's mind. Often shows new things to you and Rolan first to get your opinions

Makes those little metal puzzles where you have to figure out how to untangle the rings and distributes them among the Tieflings kids

Rolan is the same way with his arcane studies, loves if you ever want to be part of them. He genuinely enjoys answering any questions you might have about magic or the Weave

He can come across overly self-assured (read: arrogant), but something about nerding out over magic makes his face softer and more youthful as he gets lost in his own enthusiasm. It’s adorable

Rolan loves when you play helpless damsel with little things even when he knows you're exaggerating. Enjoys seeing you struggle and give him puppy eyes and ask for the big powerful wizard to help you out with his spells. Honestly it gives him a semi

Watches you with a loving smirk. "Let me take care of it, dearest"

When it comes to physical affection: Dammon gives you the open devotion and adoration of a golden retriever. Doesn't matter who is around, he will hold your waist and plant a kiss on your lips natural as anything. Husband behavior

Rolan is much more subdued with PDA (his siblings still tease him mercilessly and they always will) but also kinda gets off on the chance to be sneaky about it. Not above cornering you to make out when no one is around

Likes to play the game of riling you up when he knows you have somewhere to be. It goes both ways of course, he’s embarrassingly affected by your kisses and caresses

NSFW:

Dammon tends to be a very generous and giving top to both of you

Rolan much more of a switch, depends a lot on his mood any given day. Rolan topping Dammon is a rare but absolutely glorious experience to be part of

Rolan is always the one to get impatient and jealous during sex, especially when Dammon is taking up too much of you for too long

"Hurry up," he mumbles while sucking at the skin of your neck, but Dammon ignores him, his mouth steadfastly doing the Lord's work between your legs. He’s fond of the brat but not about to rush your pleasure over it. Besides, he can think of a few better ways to shut Rolan up

They don't always agree on much until the first time they sandwich you between them. It’s a revelation for both men to find they enjoy your body even more together

Dammon whispers into your ear what a good boy/girl you are as you lean back against his chest, while Rolan enjoys kissing down your body with zero urgency

Rolan hides his pointed ears behind his hair because he's embarrassed by how sensitive they are

Dammon catches on instantly (it's a Tief thing) and pays extra attention to them during foreplay, licking and sucking on the tips until Rolan is groaning and squirming under him

Dammon's build might look more slender at first glance, but he's got a wiry strength that Rolan lacks. Can easily throw either of you around in bed, though he's sometimes too much of a gentleman. Could be talked into it once you’ve got him worked up though. He’s strong enough to hold you both exactly where he wants to for as long as he needs

Dammon's arms are solid as the steel he forges. Cords of muscle under his shoulders and forearms, prominent veins that run down through his hands

And his hands are firm and wonderfully calloused, so anything he does with his fingers, you're going to feel super clearly

Rolan's hands are surprisingly strong as well, but it's like the strength of a pianist or artist. Soft to the touch but wielding a lot of dexterity and precision. It makes his teasing deadly effective, because he has perfect control over the pressure and the pace, and he knows it

Rolan is 1000% the dirtier talker

He’s definitely the type to take full advantage of the situation while you’re giving him head and you can’t respond. Teasing and running a commentary about how lovely your mouth looks taking his cock

It’s also partly to distract himself and prolong the experience because watching your mouth on him really, REALLY does it for Rolan

If Dammon gets chatty it’s going to be showering sweet compliments on either or both of you; he definitely has a kink for giving praise, it heightens the sensations in his own mind

You can watch it turn Rolan from cocky to moaning and submissive in under a minute

#rolan x tav #dammon x tav #rolan x dammon #dammon bg3 #rolan bg3 #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 headcanons

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int-writersmind · 7 months

Text

Hanging On The Telephone

Pairing: Peter Parker x Gn!Reader

Sequel to Potential Customer (but could be read as a stand-alone)

Summary: After lending Peter your favorite vinyl, you wonder when you'll see him again...to get your record back of course! No other reason...

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Author's Note: I imagine the album that Reader gives to Peter as Parallel Lines by Blondie but it's neutral enough to be whatever you want it be. The opening track is Hanging on the Telephone so use that info to your discretion.

Also I'm buzzed on two glasses of rosé editing this so bare with me lol.

It had been a week since that day at So-So Records, a few days since you met Peter Parker, a few days since you lent him that album. You try to not be glued to your phone, anxiously waiting for a response like a desperate thirteen-year-old, but still you wonder when he’ll reply.

It was early one morning when the text finally came. You, in your apartment’s kitchen, sipping on your favorite hot beverage startling when your phone chimes.

I think I’ve found my new favorite album, read the text, This is Peter by the way. Peter Parker?

You respond: I had a feeling, You know, I don’t lend my albums out to just anyone.

Then I must be special.

You smile to yourself, covering your face when you realize what you are doing.

“Are you smiling at your phone?” Your roommate says, coming out from her bedroom. “Funny video, or that guy from the store?”

“Uh, the latter, he finally got back to me.”

“Ooh, so what’s next?” Your roommate goes to pour a glass of juice from the refrigerator, you turn in your chair to face her.

“I guess I'll get my record back.”

“Boo! That’s so boring! Make it interesting, call him and set up a meeting or something.”

You roll your eyes, “Calling? What am I? Fifty?”

“I think there’s something classic about calling, much more personal than texting.” Your roommate plucks your phone from your hand. You reach for it but your roommate pushes you back with great ease. “It’s easy, I’ll do it for you.”

“No! Don’t you dare!”

Ring ring!

“Hello?” You hear Peter’s voice faintly from your phone’s speaker. Your eyes go wide in fear, your roommate tosses your phone back to you, and you almost drop it like it was a game of hot potato and the spud was literally burning your skin. You suck in a deep breath before–

“Hey-Hi Peter…ugh so sorry I must have ah–misclick–”

You hang up instantly, much to the shock of your roommate. “What-Why the hell did you do that?!?”

“I don't know! I got nervous!” You start to pace back and forth. “Shit, I-I got to call him back.”

“Yeah, duh.” You throw a pillow from the couch at her on your way back to your room.

With the click of the door, you let yourself lean and slowly slid down onto the floor. Phone in hand you stare at the call screen, fingers hesitating on Peter’s number. You take a deep breath before finally pressing Call.

“Hello…”

“Hey, everything ok?” Even through the phone, Peter’s kindness shines through, like you can almost hear his smile through the phone. You kinda feel like a dick for panicking and hanging up on him earlier.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just…being stupid.” You shake your head and cover your eyes with one of your eyes.

“No, don’t say that.”

“It’s fine,” You go to change the subject, “So, the album, any standouts.”

“Well, I would definitely say that opening track has to be my favorite. Every time it ended I just wanted to restart it. A definite addition to my playlist.”

“Hmmm, that’s something I would like to listen to.”

“I’ll show you sometime,” You try and fail to suppress a smile, “Though it’s pretty much one giant mashup of styles and genres.”

“The playlist of a madman.” You joke.

As you listen in, you can hear wind passing by on Peter’s end. “More like the playlist of someone horribly unorganized.”

“Ha, wish I could relate, but I’m much too anal to let that happen.” You move your hand away from your face, letting your head fall against the door. “I know this is gonna sound crazy but what are you doing…I mean because, I like, hear the wind passing by and...”

“Uh, er, I’m running…yeah a nice little run.”

“Oh let me leave you to your run.” You say, “We can always talk again later.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Police sirens go on by on the other end, “Ah, I think I should hang up now, don't want to run into something crazy.”

“I get it, text me some time?”

“Will do.”

“Oh and Peter,” You say. “We should set up and time and place so you can give me back my record.”

“Just when I get use to playing it all the time,” Peter responds sarcastically, “I’m kidding, I’ll let you know when I can.”

At work, you couldn't help but sneak glances at your phone, one part hoping another text would come through, another part hoping that it wouldn’t.

On your lunch break you had an extra few minutes left before clocking back in, you decide to visit your store’s listening room. Well it was more like the back of the store where there was a wall cut-out, curtain, and small table with a record player and a two pairs of headphones. You pick up a small selection of 7 inch singles, trying to figure out what kind of mood you were in. you pull the curtain close to give a smidgen of privacy, picking up one of the headphones your co-worker swore he cleaned.

Halfway through one 7 inch, when you decided that you were in a different mood, you feel the curtain move, you look up to see–

“Hope you don’t mind,” Peter, in the flesh, fully cements himself inside the admittedly tight space. “Your co-worker said I would find you here.”

“And found me you have,” You switch the 7 inch to something else, a song that Peter might know. “Have some time to spare?”

“For you, of course.”

You look away, trying to hide your blush under the guise that you were reaching for the other pair of headphones. Peter graciously accepts, placing them atop of his head, as you set the record player to start.

As the track starts, you sideways glance at Peter and he does the same to you. You laugh it off as the opening notes begin to go through your ears.

It takes Peter a beat before he notices what song is playing–the opening song from the album you lent him. You sheepishly smile at his recognition before slowly moving to the music, a basic shimmy, then a head bob, then as the song reaches the first chorus, mouthing the words. Peter just smiles at you, and gives a modest head bob to the song the whole way through.

As the song fades out, ending you and Peter’s private little listening party, you both take off your headphones and just stare at one another for a moment. “You know…I would love to keep playing music but…”

“Oh yeah… I was just in the area and I just–decided to pop in.”

“Without my record?” You say sarcastically.

Peter shuts his eyes in embarrassment. “Oh yeah…it’s just..um…god I honestly just forgot it–”

You place a hand on Peter’s arm to stop him from going on, before quickly removing it. “Don’t worry about it…” You pull the curtain just slightly back, glancing at your co-worker who was glancing at his watch repeatedly. “You can always just…return it to me at…my place...Oh my god, that was so forward–”

“No! I mean yes? Uh…yeah I can definitely return your record to your place.” Peter stumbles out, “I mean I already know where you live.” Peter’s eyes go wide in shock, his face turning red.

You just chuckle to defuse the situation, at least you weren't the only one who felt so awkward in this situation. Your skin felt warm, your heart was beating so fast it felt like it would drill straight through your ribs.

Is this what it felt like to have a crush? Oh my god, did you actually just say crush? But, you didn’t know what else to call this feeling you had towards Peter. Hell, you barely knew the dude, only sharing a few things with one another, but at the end of each encounter, you were just itching for more. It was kind of embarrassing but honestly, who cares.

“How about you come over to my place around 8:30-ish? My roommate’s working the nightshift.”

“I can make that work.”

“Cool” You say. “Plus, I promise to tell you exciting little factoids about the album and others if you let me.”

“Oh please do so,” Peter leans in close, quite close actually, “It would make little nerd me so excited.”

For just a split second you think about leaning in, closing the gap between the two of you with your lips– Now that was too far, crazy talk.

You settle for a quick glance at his lips before looking at his eyes, clearing your throat before turning to leave the listening area.

You lead Peter to the front of the store, hands wringing in front of you, as you turn and face Peter.

“I’ll text you my apartment number, 8:30?”

“8:30-ish” Peter responds with a finger snap. You do the same with a nod of your head, as you watch Peter leave.

Why did you agree to meet at your place?

You think about what you proposed at the record store, standing alone in the middle of the living room in your apartment. You didn’t know whether or not to dress up so you settled for what you wore at work today with a long cardigan to cozy it up.

You pace back and forth, chewing on your fingernails on one hand, admittedly, overstressing about tonight. Was this like a casual drinks thing? A nice meal paired with casual drinks? Or was it really just a simple handoff and ‘Thanks for lending me the record, I never want to see you again, buh-bye!”

You stop short, pushing all those thoughts and then-some out. You decide to go simple and order a New York delicacy–pizza. If this was something then it would be fun, casual. If it was a simple handoff then, well, more pizza for you. A win-win honestly. But as you place the order, deep down you knew, you just knew that this wasn’t gonna be a simple handout.

Knock-Knock

Man that pizza delivery guy definitely deserves a great tip for speed, efficiency–

“I assume this is for you?” As you open the door there’s Peter, pizza in one hand, record in the other. “Or I just paid and stole someone' else's dinner.”

“Our pizza if you’ll indulge me?” You take the pizza from Peter, and with your other hand you gesture for him to come inside. “Oh, how much do I own you? Since the pizza was my idea and all.”

“Don’t worry about it,” As you close the door behind you, Peter does a quick 360 of your cozy shared space. “This is–”

“Small?”

“Nice. I was gonna say nice,” You walk the pizza over to the wall that served as the kitchen, getting your finest paper plates. “It would be more strange if you lived in some Friends level apartment.”

You notice Peter walking to another section of your living room, where your music set-up was, a fine turntable and modestly priced speakers. Which all sat upon a piece from IKEA that held you and your roommates record collection.

“You ok with soda?” You call out.

“If that’s what you're drinking,” Peter glances at you, “Then that’s what I’ll be drinking.”

You nod as you prepare a pair of pizza on separate plates and pour your favorite soda into slightly dusty glasses.

As you make your way to the main area of the living room, you set everything on the coffee table before standing next to Peter. “And to think I thought you weren’t a serious record collector.”

Your lips form a straight line, nodding your head, “If I let the wrong people know I secretly love collecting vinyls, they’ll never leave me alone.” You joke.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Peter hands you the borrowed record, which you take from him. You squat down, looking for the right place to put it, Peter follows you downward.

“While we're here…maybe I can show you something else?”

“Hmm, some music that will change my life?”

You roll your eyes, “No, just my personal faves.”

Your fingers skim over a few titles, before you select one, some indie, folky singer you actually saw in person. “But only if you wow me with some factoids, as promised.”

“Of course, I never break a promise”

A third record plays as Peter and you are lost in conversation, the scraps of pizza lying on the coffee table. The two of you are close to one another on the couch. You with your head resting on one hand, elbow resting on the back of the couch, Peter holding his glass in front of him.

“...And once I had the record in hand it made the long lines and freezing temperatures worth it.” You turn and hide your face in your hand. “God, I just realized how crazy that sounded.”

“No,no, that was a great story,” Peter lightly places a hand on your leg. “I can tell you're very passionate about this and I bet,” Peter scoots in close, “You really love working at So-So.”

You glance away before facing Peter’s smirking face again. That smirk that makes your stomach tie up in knots. “I mean why else would I work long hours for shit pay. But meeting certain customers also makes it worthwhile.”

“Like clueless customers who come in for some obscure album from the 70s that he doesn’t even bother to buy?”

“Yeah, even customers like that,” You remove your other hand from your head to rest on Peter’s, trying to ignore the burning sensation inside of you telling you to stop. “I know this is stupid but…I’m glad you walked into So-So.”

“Can I say something stupider?” Peter makes a face that makes you laugh. “What I meant to say,” Peter takes your hand, “I’m also glad I walked into So-So.”

The two of you just stare at one another, and it’s like you can almost feel a magnetic pull towards him. Like when the two of you were leaning on that wall at So-So, or when he walked you home and his fingers brushed your thigh, or in the listening room when you just wanted to seal the deal. You had so many thoughts racing through your mind it was hard to focus on the moment.

Peter leans in closer, bringing you right back into the now, You close your eyes as his lips ghost over yours, his breath falling over your lips–the record stops, end of the side.

“Leave it.” Peter whispers before pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was messy, a little hungry, as if each other's lips were the only way to satiate each other’s appetite. Peter places his cup on the coffee table as he brings one of his hands to cup your face.

His lips, god his lips, were coated in the artificially sweet taste of the soda, making him even more irresistible. You couldn’t help but let your hands wander up his chest, your fingers playing with the top button of his shirt, the closest to his neck, wandering fingers pushing themselves inside, feeling warm skin.

Great minds think alike as one of Peter’s hands goes to your waist, his long, slender fingers, going up your shirt, pressing lightly on the skin. You can’t help but sigh at his touch, as his hand slowly travels upward. You swing one leg over both of his, so that you’re basically straddling him, letting your hands go to his neck, as both of his hands fall to your waist.

Ending the moment too soon, Peter pulls away from you, letting his forehead rest against yours, but casting his gaze downwards as to not look at you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Now why would you say that?” With one of your hands, you use your thumb and pointer finger to gently push Peter’s face upwards by his chin, causing him to look you right in your eyes. “I wanted you to kiss me. Hell, I've wanted to kiss you since you walked me home.”

“It’s…it’s not that I regret kissing you, I’ll never regret that…it’s just…” Peter sighs, “I don’t know what this, the two of us, can be after tonight. I don’t know if I’m in a position right now for something…something more serious.”

You chuckle a little, “Bold of you to assume I wanted to ask you to be my boyfriend right now.” You say with a smile, you let your finger flick down his bottom lip. “I can do causal, Peter Parker.” You lean in close, your thumb blocking your lips from his, your voice lowering, “Can you?”

Peter sighs into your mouth, a smirk forming on his lips, “I can, but can I ask you one thing?” You nod your head, “Can I borrow some more of your records? I think your taste is starting to rub off on me.”

“Only if you promise to return them to me.”

“If this is what a return looks like…then count me in.”

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Read Part 3-> Fragile (warning includes smut!)

Thanks for reading! Ah, I can't believe I finally did the sequel to Potential Customer, I already have the last two parts written (since I wrote them in tandem with the og) so expect those soon, but this one was strangely difficult to write. Anyway...anyone want some smut w/ this pairing? That's coming soon, since my fever dream venom peter smut post got so many notes so quickly, lol. Anyway bye void!

masterlist

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