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cuppajoel · 29 days ago

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the next seven dates| the contractor

PAIRING: modern au/ no cordyceps/younger (late 30s)!Joel Miller x plus size!reader

SYNOPSIS: Dating apps have convinced you that love isn’t real and that all men are pigs. Turning to your bffs for a Hail Mary, you ask them to set you up on a blind date each to restore your faith. Your first date is with a contractor called Joel.

wc: 8.7k (oops)

TAGS: 18+MDNI, NSFW, Modern AU, smut, developing relationships, reader is plus-sized, able bodied and afab, no other description is given. Heavy flirting, first date vibes, Joel is a gentleman at heart, dirty talk, heavy petting in a taxi, alcohol consumption, sex while under the influence, pnv protected (the crowd boos) sex, v fingering, oral sex (f receiving). Both characters are in their 30s.

A/N: I started writing this in September and fell away so many times bc writing for Joel Miller scares me. If you’re looking for a sign to write the thing that you want to read, this is it. Not beta’d.

For context of the fic. This shot is called a blowjob. It’ll all make sense, I promise.

Reblogs, comments and likes are all appreciated <3

Jingling your keys in your right hand, you watch as the numbers climb on the digital display, showing what floor you’re on. You’re exhausted. You let your head fall back against the mirrored surface behind you, your back resting on the metal bar and your eyes fluttering shut for a moment of respite. Although it wasn’t the worst date you’d ever been on, it was a close second or third. You take a deep breath.

From the moment you stepped foot into that bar, the guy was a red flag that turned into a 5-alarm fire.

“Oh wow you look good… A lot like my sister… DING Not that I think my sister looks good, but you look hot, d’you work out? DING Yeah, you can tell… how much do you squat? DING oh, well, I could probably bench you…DING We should try that sometime, if you know what I mean? DING. He laughs, a mix of a frat bro and that lizard meme comes to mind.

The elevator doors open with another ding, making your right eye twitch slightly as you cross the carpeted hall to your apartment. You turn the key in the lock and give your door the customary shoulder barge before the locking mechanism is released. Hooking your jacket and purse on the wall and locking the door behind you, you kick off your shoes and head straight for your giant corner couch, collapsing onto it with a huff.

This wasn’t just a bad date. It was a bad date after a series of bad dates, one after another. The only takeaway from each is that people seriously hyperbolise themselves online.

You were relatively new to the world of online dating after catching your fiancé of three years, Jake, doing the downward dog with your shared yoga teacher only eight months ago.

Jake was everything you thought you wanted. A nice guy with a secure 9-5 and a handsome face. But everything about him was just nice. Your dates, your apartment, your sex- all nice. And at the end of it all, he was cheating on you- real fucking nice.

Unlocking your phone, it opens to the group chat thread between you and your two best friends. You hold down the voice note button.

“So you may be wondering ‘Why is she home already?’ Well, my sweet summer children, not only did my date admit that he found his sister attractive and wanted to ‘bench me’ all before we ordered our first drink…” You pause for dramatic effect, knowing they can’t hear you, but it makes you feel better. You huff out an empty chuckle. “I am just so over it. How can a man say that his favourite film is “Little Women”, have pictures of his rescue cats on his profile, and still be that much of a stereotypical douche?” You fling your head back, resting it on the top of your couch.

“I’m going to do something dramatic and soooo not me… I am deleting the apps… the two of you are tasked with finding me a date each. I don’t wanna know anything about them before I see them- just their name, age, and one picture. You decide who is going first and the winner gets to be maid of honour at the inevitable wedding… Anyway, I’m going to go read one of my fairy porn books and contemplate my life… Night, loves!”

Somehow, you muster the energy to shift yourself from the couch to your room. You bunch up your tainted date clothes, toss them in the general direction of your hamper and pull on an oversized T-shirt. The wasted makeup is double-cleansed off your face, and you shove your hair up into an extremely unflattering bun. Grabbing your Kindle from under your pillow, you flop back onto your bed; your dates with the beautiful high-fairy king never disappoint.

Almost a week later, your best friends pull through. Having found a guy each, who they swear is the one you’ve been looking for, they arrange your dating schedule between themselves. Tonight was the first. In the Uber ride over to the restaurant, you send your location to your friend who set up the date.

Any last-minute words of wisdom?

He’s kinda that strong, silent type.

Also southern

A gentleman for sure!

Hopefully not all of the time 😮‍💨

You shove the car door closed, adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder, and tuck your phone inside. You feel good tonight. Blue jeans, a red lip, oversized, white-button down, black, pointed-toe, heeled boots-damn they hurt, but they look so good. You slide your index fingers into the belt loops either side of your hips, hiking them up slightly to allow the denim to stretch around your ass just right.

Rounding the corner, you find yourself on the strip of bars and restaurants on the main street. You weave in and out of the patrons, everyone being washed with the rich blues and reds of the neon lights beaming down on them. As you push the door with your hip and descend the two steps to the bar, you lick your teeth, making sure they’re free from any red stains.

Inside is quite the contrast from the bustle of the streets a few feet away. The place is busy, for sure, but it’s as if everyone is collectively trying to keep the atmosphere calm and easy. A massive mahogany coloured bar is the feature of the room, with hanging, warm, filament bulbs creating small spotlights all along it.

You walk further into the room, parallel with the bar, coming to a stop at its corner, facing the bartender. You squint your eyes slightly, trying to pull out familiar shapes from the hundreds of glass bottles behind the bar. The bartender gives you a small smile; it’s your turn.

“Can I have a Tanqueray Savillia gin and tonic, please?” You ask with a soft smile, reaching for your purse to pull out your wallet. “Oh, and a shot of tequila…” You wouldn’t normally mix drinks on the first round, but you also wouldn’t normally go on a blind date.

“Sure. Do you wanna start a tab?” is the return. You look up to answer their question, having retrieved your card and holding it firm between your index and middle fingers.

“Yeah, plea-“

“I got the this one.” A warm, sturdy presence flanks you on your right shoulder. Their strong right hand is placed gently on the bar next to you. Your eyes flick up to the mirrors behind the bar, meeting his in the reflection. He’s looking right back at you through the glass, and a small, closed-mouth smile creeps across your face as you turn to face him in real life.

“Joel?” He nods slowly in response, the smile not faltering as he looks down at you, a glitter in his espresso-coloured eyes. His eyes trail down your form and then back up; you allow yourself to do the same to him. Although not the tallest man you’ve seen, he’s built big.

He’s wearing a charcoal grey, brushed-cotton button down and dark-wash denim jeans that fit him perfectly. Both sleeves of his shirt are folded in on themselves and stop just below his elbow. His hair must be naturally wavy or curly, but it’s been pushed back and tamed slightly, a few curls going rogue.

“Hey, it’s good to meet ya,” he tips his head down slightly as you raise yours, meeting each other in the middle as you press a kiss on the other person's cheek. He smells warm and masculine, a mix of cedarwood and something earthy, like basil. “I’ll take a Glenlivet 15 and a shot of tequila- the tab is under Miller. Thank you.” He smiles firmly at the bartender. Your eyes follow the line of his thick neck, up through his jaw, which is peppered with trimmed salt and pepper stubble.

“Shit, I’m sorry…” your hand comes up to his jaw, remnants of your merlot coloured lipstick on his cheek. He turns back to you and creases his eyes slightly, not following your apology but also not flinching an inch as you place your hands on him.

Your thumb moves in a slow and firm window-wiper motion to try and remove the stain. “I got lipstick on you…” Your left hand now comes up to the other side of his face, pushing ever so slightly to get him to turn to face you more. He preens into your touch, malleable to where you want him. The trimmed stubble pricks lightly at your fingertips.

“Is it my colour at least?” He teases, he looks down at you from the corner of his eye as you woman-handle his face. Damn, his voice is deep. It rumbles through your chest, signifying how close you are to this broad, thick, stranger.

“Yes. Very pretty.” You return with the same level of flirt. Your eyes shift from the red mark you’ve placed on him to his as you give him a lazy smile. The bartender sets up your drinks on the bar in front of you, making you both finally pop from whatever bubble you found yourself in. Three minutes in and you’re already cradling his face? Nice one, babe. You hear your friend's voice in your head.

“Well…” Joel picks up both shot glasses of tequila and hands you one, raising his own, and an eyebrow in your direction. “Cheers-“

“Hold it!” You cut in, your glass also raised to the same level as his. “Gotta look me in the eyes as we drink… otherwise it’s seven years bad sex.” You say, dipping your voice ever so slightly as you remember the above dive-bar standard of the room you find yourself in.

“Shit- well…” Joel smirks, he clinks his glass against yours. “Can’t be havin’ that now darlin’” That southern accent clings to every word as he throws the liquid back, his eyes not faltering for a second. You mirror his actions entirely, trying your best not to screw up your face as the liquid heats your insides.

He gives a silent chuckle before leaning into you again, hand on the small of your back and his mouth hovering just over your ear. “I snagged a table in the corner over there…” He points over your shoulder and you follow with your eyes. “Means you can keep telling me how pretty I am…” he teases and resumes his stance- one giant hand supporting himself on the bar.

Your mouth raises slightly at the sides. That first shot of alcohol hits you nicely as the smell of his cologne makes you breathe harder. “Sure.” You grab your drink from the bar and walk ahead of him to the vacant table, hoping that ‘ol’ faithful’ jeans are doing their job.

You stop just before the chair that isn’t covered by his leather jacket, waiting for confirmation. It comes in the form of Joel pulling out the seat for you. “Pretty and a gentleman… so many sides to you, Joel.” You say, not putting your full weight on the chair so that he can tuck it in under you.

He quickly joins you at the table, his large presence not diminished by his seated position. “Well, what can I say? I’ve got many talents.” He shrugs as he takes a sip of his amber liquid, the ice clinking softly as he places it back down.

In the ease of the past forty minutes, you both had forgotten that this was a first date. A charged silence falls upon you both as you simply take each other in, smiling widely when you catch eyes.

Joel watches as you unconsciously play with your necklace. He’s actively trying to stay in the room rather than let his mind wander about your full, rounded lips that flash red with danger.

“So, I gotta say, I thought you’d be a little more bossy given your demand for a blind date… You do that often?” He sips the whisky, hoping it will bring him back to earth. He so desperately didn’t want to be the guy not paying attention to what you were saying, given that he had asked the question.

“No,” you started, your eyes crinkling at the sides as you smile, “I don’t usually demand that they set me up on blind dates, but the last guy I went on a date that I organised admitted his attraction towards his sister and then tried to organise sex… all within the same sentence, so I’m starting to doubt my abilities to pick for myself.”

Joel splutters on his drink slightly, the fiery liquid catching the back of his throat as he coughs. “You got any siblings?” you cock your head, chuckling that you caught him off guard.

“My brother has a bit too much moustache for my taste,” he says, taking another quick sip to hopefully soothe the burning in his throat. “And I don’t tend to ‘schedule in’ sex.” He murmurs, the words coming out a bit laboured due to the whisky in his throat.

“Noted.” You return, “I’ll make sure to keep mine at bay.” You rub your upper lip before finishing off the last mouthful of your drink. “You want another drink?” You ask in a way that sounds hopeful. Not wanting to run after 10 minutes? Double nice one babe.

“Yeah.” He savours the last sip of his drink, licking across his bottom lip. “What can I get you?”

“Oh no, this one’s on me, pretty.” You wink at him. Joel opens his mouth in protest but wavers, a slight flush coming over him at his new nickname. “Same again?” You ask.

Joel notices how the lights strung around the place bounced off your eyes, making it harder to see their colour but even more difficult to look away. You pick up his empty glass as you stand. Joel nods in response, giving an earnest “Thank you, darlin’.” As he watches you make the small walk from your table to the bar, he gives himself full permission to check you out.

Your jeans look like they were painted on by the devil, caressing every curve of your waist and thighs. The back pocket of your pants stretches and pulls as you slide one of your hands in, waiting on a popped hip to be served at the bar. The denim leaves little to the imagination but, boy, was Joel imagining? He never wanted to be in a wrestling match more than with this pair of pants. He takes a deep breath, trying not to think about how difficult it would be to peel them off your body.

You move, shifting your weight to your other hip; your heels must be hurting you, he thinks. He lets his eyes wander up over your silhouette, up to your profile, as he does, he sees your eyes waiting for his. “Busted.” you mouth to him, your lips forming a wicked smile.

Joel smirks too, not letting up his gaze and nodding. ”So busted.” he says under his breath.

It’s not long before you join him back at your table, setting his down in front of him with a tip of your head before sitting back and enjoying a long sip from your own.

From the corner of your eye, the bartender comes over, placing two shot glasses in front of you. “Ah, thank you!” You say to them as they return to their bar. “Here ya go, I didn’t have enough hands for everything.” You hold out the shot to Joel with a devious look that wasn’t there before you’d left.

It wasn’t a shot Joel had ever seen before, a mix of different browns and beiges topped off with whipped cream. Joel takes the small glass between his fingers and crinkles his eyes at you. “Should I be scared?” He says, turning the glass to see the different liquors marbling together.

“That depends…” You move your shot glass to your other hand and lick some whipped cream off your thumb before switching it back to your dominant hand. “Do you like blowjobs, Joel?” You flutter your lashes and smile sweetly at the man across from you, whose jaw had just gone slack and eyes darker from the last time you’d looked at them.

Joel, not wanting to interrupt whatever mood you’d returned with from that bar, makes a deep “mmm mmm mmm” sound that started somewhere in his chest as he shakes his head and purses his lips. “You are trouble, ain’t you?” With that, you clink the glass against his and smile again.

“You have no idea.” You tip the glass back along with your head, just slightly so as not to break eye contact. Joel mirrors your motions, trying not to tempt fate given that he had a demon in front of him. Quickly, his gaze falters as the contrast in taste between the shot and his whisky has him shivering.

“Is that the best blow job you’ve ever had?” There you were again, licking the sweetness of the liquor from where it’d spilled on your fingers. A carnal image of you doing that after having his cock in your mouth flashes before his eyes. He shifts in his seat, having to tug at the denim at his crotch.

“Probably not.” Joel starts, taking a drink to rid his mouth of the overly sweet shot. “But, I believe in second chances-can always try again.” The liquor was starting to talk for him as he felt it climb his neck and up his ears.

“Okay, so I have this game that I play on dates…” You start, somehow your chair had drifted closer and closer throughout the night, as you both take turns getting the next round from the bar. As you sit elbow to elbow with Joel, close enough to smell the whisky that mixes with his earthy cologne.

“I like where this is headed already.” His accent has gotten stronger over the hour that has passed.

You shove his shoulder, “Shut upp. The game is that you have to imagine that your memory is wiped, so you get to experience things for the first time again… I then give you a category and you can only pick one thing, okay? So, if I were to say movie: what movie would you want to experience watching for the first time again?”

“Blade Runner”, he says, without hesitation. His eyes were starting to have that warm, glazed look that comes with drinking. “You?”

“Probably Scream or Fight Club- I like a twist. Vacation?”

“Ireland.”

“Australia.” you respond, picking up the pendant on your necklace out of habit, dragging it back and forth along the chain. Joel follows the movement of your fingers with his eyes, letting it soothe him too. “Food?”

“Mmmm, that’s a hard one…probably something that my Mom makes, like chilli or barbecue.”

“You’re easy to please, hm?”

“Give me a plate of good food and I’m yours.” He picks up his glass, trying to savour the liquid as you’d both agreed ‘just one more’ two drinks ago.

“I also love chilli.” You start, watching the way his lips wrap around the glass and how his tongue flicks across his lips when he sets it back down. “But I think I’d go with a dessert like chocolate fudge sundae… or, have you ever had one of those French pastries… What are they called? Pain au chocolat? That would be mine.”

He hums again, enjoying watching you ask and answer your own questions. The fidget that you started with the pendant of your necklace holding steady. In a moment of no thought, Joel slowly reaches out and stills your movement to look at the gold medal. “This is pretty.” He says to himself more than anything.

His big hand covers yours and flips the coin-shaped jewellery over with his fingers, the only response you can muster, “mmm”. He surveys the jewellery as best he can in the dim light of the bar, noticing the engraving on the back.

“It’s my initials.” You say. Your hand, and his, staying exactly where they are.

“Oh, you have a middle name.” More an accusation than a question. He sounds as if he’s uncovering some hidden gem about you. “What is it?”

“Nuh uh, you’re not getting it that easy. That’s for date five at least.” You tease, your gaze becoming heavier, the devious glimmer in Joel’s eyes becoming stronger.

“Anything else special happen on date five?”

”You might get another blowjob… but you were so ungrateful for the first one.” Your eyes drop to his mouth and then back up to his.

Joel can feel himself aching to be closer to you. His hand that holds the pendant now drifts to your jaw, his thumb feathering over your cheek, mirroring the window-wiper hold you had him in the first moments that you’d met each other.

He had a craving to explore every part of you, to taste, smell, and hear you. The need shoots through every nerve ending, spurring him on to take everything he can. But he has to slow down, or else take you to the bathroom and make you fill up all of his senses.

The Texan gentleman within him holds strong, as much as he could feel all of his reasoning heading south. He brings his face closer to yours, that slanted smile quickly becoming your favourite sight. “Can I take you home?” He rumbles, his voice low and soft so only you both could hear it.

The whisky on his breath makes your eyes flutter as you draw a sharp breath at his question. Your mouth turns up at the sides, you can tell your eyes have the same shimmer as his. Tipsy. Ready.

This wasn’t something you’d planned on. You had so many rules about first dates: No kissing (hence the red lipstick), no sharing a car, and no sex until you felt safe. With this man’s hand cradling the back of your neck and his calloused thumb tracing down your jaw and back again, you feel like syrup dripping over hot pancakes.

You’ve lost all sense of what time it is, or how long you’d been sitting there, inches from his face as your body screams at you to kiss him.

His face is so close to yours that his features become fuzzy. Your eyes are having a hard time focusing in this light. Joel’s eyes move over your features, waiting, restraining, teasing, not daring to push further until you say so.

You reach out to the corded forearm that is tensed and attached to the hand that was holding you gently. Your manicured nails rake up and down his arm in a feathered tickle. You feel his breathing deepen as you press your top teeth into your bottom lip.

“You’re gonna need to,” The pressure from your scratches is getting slightly harder, causing a hum to vibrate in Joel’s throat. “or else everyone will see how pretty you are with this shade of lipstick on your mouth.”

Joel takes the weight of your head and neck in his hands. He holds you both in that position; thick fingers cradling your nape. His tongue traces along his lips and pulls back slightly just so he can take in the heavy-lidded, slack-jawed sight before him.

“Let’em see.” he brings his lips, achingly close to yours, his eyes open, waiting for that last confirmation before he hands over his soul.

In an instant, his lips find yours, setting a slow, strong pace. The trimmed stubble on his upper lip chafes against your soft skin, creating the sweetest friction.

His cologne, mixing with the whisky and the warmth of his skin, takes over your senses as the broad backed man envelops you in his big arms.

Raking your hands through the soft curls at the back of his head, you can help but kitten lick at his bottom lip, craving a taste of that whisky you’ve seen him sip at all evening.

It only takes an instant for Joel’s breathing to deepen and for his tongue to meet yours, you both stifling a moan as you slide deeper and deeper into each other’s mouths.

Your wills, hanging by a thread, allow you a moment of clarity to softly pull away. A noise rumbles within Joel’s chest as you do, his resolve slipping like sand in an hourglass. With heavy eyes he lingers on your messy mouth, his brain unable to think of anything else than what state you’d end up in after his cock passes through your full lips.

With a chuckle, you bring your thumb to his mouth, wiping away the remnants of your lipstick that have transferred to him. “Messy boy.” You mumble, assuming your pupils must be the same size as his. He mirrors the movements on your mouth. The lipstick, blurry and smeared into a faded, pastel red that he hopes stays on him for days.

Joel swipes gently at your hot, swollen lips and chin, trying to clean you up and calm himself down before you leave the table. At one of the passes of his over your mouth, you lick softly at the pad of his finger. Matching your mood, he sinks his teeth into the fleshy part at the base of your thumb and tugs slightly.

“If we don’t leave in the next minute this whole goddamn bar is gonna see how messy I get when I turn your sweet ass the same colour as your mouth.” He licks then kisses where he had bitten you, making your eyes flutter and thighs press together.

The next half an hour was a blur. You both had the mission to get to your apartment as soon as possible, causing you to move with the most efficiency that four drinks would allow you to.

The Uber ride was the longest of your life.

Joel opened the car door and then slid right in behind you. His large, powerful hands placing you into the middle seat and wrapping the seatbelt around you, clicking it into place. He places his warm hand in the inside of your thigh, unable to keep his hands from you, you did the same, your forearm laying across the top of his thigh, nails scratching softly at the denim.

The alcohol has well and truly gone to your head, making every touch and graze feel heady and dreamlike. Joel was struggling. All night he was craving to be closer to you, holding and restraining himself but now that he’d had a taste it was impossible not to touch you. Trying to maintain his stoicism was less like stopping a yawn or sneeze and more like trying to stop a freight train on a windy day.

In the front, your driver is murmuring along to the radio, but all you can hear is the heavy, warm breathing of the man behind you as you allow him to explore your jean-clad thighs.

Pulling, pushing, kneading, it felt like Joel couldn’t get close enough. The roughness of his touch was full of nothing but need and desire.

You can’t make out everything he’s saying, his whisper is strained and raspy. You can make out the words goddamn and jeans; the lucky fabric achieving their purpose once again.

Your hand covers Joel’s, squeezing and pushing at him, encouraging him to keep going. Whatever devil was inside you wanted to push him to his limits in the back of this cab.

Feeling bold, you allow your palm to push at Joel’s high, travelling further and further up his lap before you stop dangerously close to the giant bulge you can see in the low light of the cab. This wasn’t typical behaviour from you, but the solid warmth of the man under you called to your most primitive nerves.

Dropping your head to Joel’s shoulder, you lean into his neck, leaving sloppy, wet kisses, tinged with light pink, in your wake. Trying your damnedest to hold strong until you get to the apartment.

The walk through the main doors of your apartment building was full of sideways glances and lip bitten chuckles. To have such desire within hours of meeting someone had never happened to you before. It made your skin tingle, all of your senses heightened.

By the time you reach the elevator, you can hardly recognise the darkness in the eyes peering into yours. Fingers interlaced, firm squeezes shoot straight to your clit; Joel’s rough hands somehow able to be strong but reverent at the same time.

Waiting until the doors close, Joel guides you against the brushed steel bar, which reaches the small of your back, and closes you in. His hands hold onto the bar on either side of your hips.

That nagging, rational part of Joel’s brain was screaming at him. He didn’t want any wires crossed or doubts about his intentions about tonight. Sure, he’d had his fair share of one night stands but not for years and certainly not with someone who he’d felt this level of attraction to.

With his knuckle, he ensures your eyes are on him as he hovers his mouth too close to yours. “I need you to know that I didn’t come on this date expectin’ anythin’and I still don’t…” he bows slightly, his forehead rests against yours, and he exhales with a self-fuffacing chuckle.

“I should be a gentleman. I should walk you to your front door, kiss you, and say goodnight.”

But I don’t know if I can, his brain screams at him.

Unmoving, you both share breath in close proximity. The alcohol in your system is dulled by the rush of adrenaline and hormones that are buzzing around your body.

Your teeth latch on to your bottom lip, Joel immediately catches on to the action but squeezes his lids shut, keeping his caveman brain at bay just barely.

The hotness of Joel’s breath fanning over your face has you fantasising about how it’d feel to have it between your legs. You shuffle slightly, squeezing your thighs together and feeling how wet this evening has made you already.

Staying in the electric silence, your chuckle echoes his own. You mimic his actions, moving your forehead, pressing the knuckle of your forefinger under his chin, encouraging him to lift it so that you can look him in the eyes.

“Joel, I’ve got some good news for ya…” The elevator dings, opening its metal doors at your floor. You let your grasp of his chin fall so you can wriggle free of his hold and lead the way to your apartment. “You might be a gentleman, but I’m not.”

Exiting the elevator slowly, you emphasise the movement of your hips as you lead the way through the carpeted hallway to your door. Joel follows closely, admiring the view with hearts in his eyes. Pausing for the briefest of moments, he exhales fully, palming himself, squeezing to elevate the ache at the base of his cock before catching up to you.

Twisting the key in the lock, you ram the door with your hips once, twice. “C’mon cockblocker” you ram it again, somehow the combination works, gaining you access to your apartment and a sideways glance from Joel which reads ‘we’ll deal with this later’.

With unfathomable accuracy, you throw your keys into the dish by your door and shrug off Joel’s leather jacket, which he kindly lent you, hanging it by the door.

At your back, you feel the Texan man push his hips into your ass. His fingers slide through your belt loops, giving him more purchase and momentum as you lead the way down the hall to your bedroom. His lips kiss softly at your neck, inhaling your scent before exhaling with a rumble. “Can you feel that, darlin’? Feel how fuckin’ hard you make me?” He punctuates with another pump of his hips.

A playful chuckle passes your lips as you turn on your heel so that you are facing him. Bravely, you press your palm firmly against the thickness under his jeans.

A flush starts at the base of your spire and carries up to the tips of your ears, as you feel how hard he is. His eyes flutter close, a deep groan reverberating from his throat as your breathing gets heavier. “Oh fuck, you’re big.” You rush out, that brain-to-mouth filter experiencing technical difficulties.

Joel threads his fingers through your hair, his palm cradling your head, the other grabbing at your full hip. His big brown eyes glimmer in the low light of the room as he scans your full face, stopping at your lips before flicking back up to match your gaze. “I believe in you, sweetheart. I think you can take it.” A sideways smirk, gifted to him by horny demon, swipes across his full lips.

Bringing your lips to his once again, the kiss is feverish, missing all of the earnestness of your first. Joel licks into your mouth deeply, his tongue gliding along yours, your breaths mixing together, making the air balmy.

Almost simultaneously you reach for his belt buckle and he your top button, the soft clink of metal on metal making your pussy clench.

He coaxes you backwards, prodding you to lay down on the bed as you begin working the buttons of your shirt.

Reaching behind himself, he tugs on the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swoop. His body is a wall of soft muscle- not created at a gym but through honest hard work. Freckles speckled down his arms and across his chest- you want to trail a path with your tongue.

“These jeans laced with black magic or somethin? Had me hallucinatin’ from the minute I saw you at that bar.” He peels them down in a see-saw motion. Joel kisses down the roundness of your hips and thighs as they are revealed little by little as he goes one on one with the denim.

Before long, jeans, shirts, and shoes are cast to the outskirts of the room. You lay before him in a blue matching set- the heft of your tits barely confined. Giving them a squeeze, your smaller hands barely cover them, the pillowy flesh spilling over the spaces in between your fingers.

Joel’s eyes go directly to them, a slanted smile sweeping across his face before he lowers his lips to the roundness of your stomach.

Licking, kissing, inhaling the scent that he assumed was your perfume lingers heavy on the plumpness of your soft skin. Travelling lower and lower, Joel settles himself, kneeling on the floor before you, eyes settled on the damp patch spreading on the gusset of your panties.

With forearms hooked under your thighs and hands resting on top Joel yanks you towards him, his beautiful hooked nose laying on the wet fabric as he inhales. “Fuck me.” He whispers into your mound.

Hooking his fingers around the fabric, his eyes flick up to yours for permission. Bumping up onto your forearms for a better view, you smile wickedly, crooking your neck to the side. “Let’s see how messy you can get, pretty.”

Joel all but rips the lace garment, whisking it downwards, past your knees before he hovers his mouth just above your pussy, close enough that his breath tickles against the soft hairs. Tongue first, he places wet kisses on just north of where you want him the most.

Instinctively, your hips raise, eliciting a dark chuckle from him. “Goddamn you’ve got a pretty pussy.” He shifts you so that your legs lay over his shoulders and freeing up his hands to push apart your folds, allowing him to see your swollen clit.

With a flat tongue, Joel licks almost too tenderly at the soft, dewy skin before swooping languidly over and over your bud. “Oh my god.” You moan, willing your hips to stay still and stop being so greedy, allow this man to cook.

“Never been called that before.” he mumbles, bringing the sides of his cheeks together, gathering his saliva in his mouth and then letting it fall to your clit. You were already soaked but Joel needed to see you dripping, messy. You moan, the lewd act making your eyes roll back.

Although being caught up in the desperation you had for each other, Joel needed to take inventory of every twitch, roll, and moan passing through your sweet, soft form. There was no way that he was taking tonight as a solitary event, already craving how you’d moan and whimper for him when you allowed him to fuck you bare.

Gently, he pulled at the apex of your pussy with one hand, pulling at the hood of your clit to unsheath it fully, before circling it with deep, even pressure with his opposite thumb. “You are fucking soaked, sweeheart.” Your breathing gets heavier, you’re unable to open your eyes fully, but you’re not willing to miss a second of this guy at work.

Joel incorporates his mouth, slurping and swallowing as if you were ice cream threatening melt right under him. Threading your fingers through his messy hair you push and pull at his fluffy curls, your heels digging in just at his shoulder blades to encourage him, more.

Feeling him chuckle,he presses into you deeper, his lips and tongue now licking into your pussy which flutters and pulses around his tongue. With each movement of his jaw you feel his beautiful nose bump and swipe across your clit, that familiar buzz at the base of your spine growing stronger and stronger. “Fuck, Joel keep going, it feels so fucking good…”

Hearing his name as a moan on your lips, strokes the most primitive part of him. He needs to be closer, deeper, before he comes in his pants like a teenager.

Somehow finding the strength to peel himself from you, he stands, his cock aching and hard as stone. There’s a clear, darkened patch on his boxers which steals your attention for a second before it moves slowly to his hand squeezing at himself. “I gotta get you ready sweetheart. Gotta be inside you.” He shucks his boxers off himself and pumps his cock in his hand.

Resuming his earlier position, Joel gathers your slick with his middle and ring finger before pushing them in slowly to your weeping pussy.

“Shit”

“Mmmmmfuck”

Groaning in unison, you swear you see Joel’s eyes flutter in the way yours are as you squeeze against his fingers. Joel flexes his digits, sweeping the pad of his thumb across your beautifully swollen clit to tandem with his fingers.

Shifting your hips, you rock yourself on his fingers, allowing your big tits to bounce and ripple in harmony. Opening your eyes, you can see him jerk his heavy, weeping cock at the same pace as he pumps into you, the strong expanse of his forearm tensed with chorded muscle. The view getting you closer and closer by the second.

“Think you can take more? I know your sweet pussy is gonna milk me dry.” Joel stretches his fingers inside of you, licking his lips, his eyes glued to your own.

Never have you had a man talk to you like this during sex. Often, your background music to get off was either the squeak of the bed frame or the buzz of your pocket bff after you were laying, disappointed, in a wet patch in your bed.

“Oh, you like me talking to you, don’t ya? You like it when I tell you how tight your cunt is, hm?” Joel’s upper body is covered in a small sheen of sweat, his fingers somehow able to quicken and maintain the even pressure.

“I’m gonna come, fuck.” Your hips grind harder, movements in tandem with Joel’s allowing your big tits to jiggle and ripple.

A familiar warmth spreads through your pelvis and hips, growing higher and higher flushing to the tips of your ears.

Joel, praying so hard that he doesn’t come, stops jerking himself, instead lowering his body so that he can drink your sweetness from the source. “That’s it. Good girl. Come all over me.” He speaks into your sopping wet pussy. Through thick lashes, he peers over the soft valleys of your stomach and hips, his tongue and fingers not stopping but calming to a slow, steady motion.

Ears still ringing, you prop yourself back on your elbows once more, enjoying the view of the southern man, eyes closed kitten licking at your pulsing hole.

In feeling your muscles flex in movement, his eyes pop open. He pulls his fingers from you, holding them in front of his face and scissoring his first two fingers, examining the silky wetness of your come. Without show or performance he places them in his mouth, past his knuckle in order to finish his meal.

Not wanting to waste another minute without him inside of you, you extend yourself, reaching to the top drawer of your night stand, grabbing a box of condoms and rattling them in his direction.

“I think twelve times might be ambitious but I’ll sure give it a go.” The flirty twinkle in his eye makes you cock your head to the side, giving him an over exaggerated eyeroll. He grabs the package from you, using his teeth to perforate the cellophane and pry open the untouched box.

Pumping his length a few times, Joel scans your entire body; toes, knees, thighs all the way to the undoubtably frizzy fucked curls framing your face. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” It’s not until he finishes the sentence that you look up at his face, meeting his gaze that was waiting for your eyes. He slides the lubed condom over his shaft before joining you, kneeling between your parted thighs on the bed.

Biting your lip, you watch his actions in earnest, allowing his words to settle on your skin. Although never the best at taking compliments, this was not one you wanted to deflect. This beautiful, strong, southern man was looking at you with reverence and you were determined to believe it, if only for tonight.

Lowering himself on one elbow, he reaches your leg with his other arm, hooking it over the sturdy angle of his hips, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sweetly, his lips find yours, having that gentle quality that you shared in the bar. Pulling back only slightly, his eyes peer south, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it up and down the wetness of your slick, tap tap tapping it on your now engorged clit.

On your gasp, his eyes dilate further, unable to keep that goddamn slanted smile off his face.

Only in this moment have you noticed that when he smiles, he does with his whole face. Yes, his lips move but also his cheeks, creating a domino effect on his eyes, crinkled at the side, and the soft raising of his ears. Fuck, he was handsome.

It was your turn to peer down, looking at the way his cock was teasing you. Cheekily, you manoeuvre your hips, making the tip of his cock, notch against your cunt, causing Joel to swallow a moan and for you to smirk. “C’mon pretty, I wanna feel you stretch me with that big dick of yours.” You circle your hips, trying to make him do it again.

Leveraging your leg on his hip to raise your hips higher, he sinks into you, slowly, inch by inch until he is seated fully. Eyes cemented on yours as your smirk turns into a moan.

“Jesus Christ”

“Fuck, Joel”

Joel held still for a moment, the hand that secured your leg over your hip sweeping up and down the expanse of your thigh. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” His lips lower, licking and kissing over your collarbone and neck, the sweetness of your perfume now musky, mixing with your sweat.

As he pumps his hips with long, deep strokes, you thanked the sex gods that he had a pretty face and a pretty dick. His cock was big and thick, stretching you and making you feel beautifully full, fuller than you ever had been.

Working your hips, you moved in parallel with Joel. Pulling your hips back into the mattress when he pushed his pulsing length deep inside, bridging your hips upwards when he retreated. You didn’t want there to be a moment when he wasn’t inside you, moulding your pussy to fit his perfect size.

Joel slants his lips against yours, not waiting to push his tongue deep and long against your own. It wasn’t controlled, it was sloppy and wet, your hand threading through his hair and pulling at the disheveled strands.

The taste of him, mixed with your come and the faint memory of whisky had you rolling your eyes. It was desperate, reckless, kissing someone you barely know like this, like your life depended on it.

Pulling back, he arranges you, one leg still wrapped around his hip and the other raised up, ankle on his broad, freckled shoulders. “This okay?” His eyes, somehow wider, looking for any change in your expression, ensuring you’re comfortable.

You answer with your heels digging into his shoulder and the small of his back, pulling him into you. He feels bigger this way, his cock able to get deeper, on some strokes kissing that detonate button buried deep inside you.

It’s almost as if you forget how to breathe as he gets faster, the hair on his thighs and lower stomach now glistening with your slick as they rub against you.

Joel lifts you higher, allowing him access to grab at your ass, spreading it slightly, making your head spin and pussy flutter. “That’s it. Cmon, baby. I need to feel you come over my cock.”

This feels primal, biological; as if this night, this moment was written in the fabric of your DNA. Meant to happen.

With your eyes rolling back, you give over your body, surrendering to the will and strength of this man. Joel, feeling that he could combust at any moment looks skyward, willing his body to endure this sweetness for longer.

Bringing his thumb to your poor, swollen clit, Joel rubs in quick, deep circles, his pelvis and hips stuttering as he feels his impending orgasm.

“Fuck yes.” You come, eyes rolling, toes curling and pussy squeezing against the heavy cock inside of you. Your eyes snap shut, your jaw clenches as Joel continues to pump in and out of your spent pussy.

“Mmmmmmfuck” you peel yourself from ecstasy long enough to see Joel come. Each beautiful angle and muscle on his body tensing, his eyes scanning over your flushed face, that smile of his appearing again.

Inching towards you, he kisses you sweetly, the curls at the nape of his neck getting curlier by the second. His giant palm rests on your cheek, deepening the kiss slightly, running his thumb over your jaw.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get cleaned up. You grabbing the oversized T-shirt that lay dormant under your pillow and him finding his boxers in the far corner of the room.

A conversation isn’t had about whether Joel should sleepover or not, instead you fall into each other again; kissing, biting, licking, unable to stop but too tired and a little drunk to take it further.

An ungodly vibration on wood wakes you from the best sleep you’ve had in months. Shooting up in bed, you immediately regret your pace, your head tender from the night before.

Scanning your surroundings for a minute, a little seed of disappointment plants itself when you realise you’re alone, no Texan man in sight.

You swipe across the screen, putting your phone on loud speaker before you faceplant back into your pillow.

“Hello?”

”Good morning, princess.” You can hear the sarcasm dripping from your best friend’s voice. “I was gonna call you last night to see how your date went with the contractor but I’m guessing due to my 5 unread texts that it went quite well, hm?”

Stretching your body like a cat in the sun, you grab your phone and lay it on the pillow next to you, feeling like you’re at a sleepover.

“It went well, yeah.” You hear the smile through your voice before you realise it’s there. “He is so fucking hot, got that Mr Darcy stoic thing about him but he is definitely a dark horse.” You turn to lay on your tummy. “Honestly, it got to just about closing time at the bar and I didn’t want it to end. We got back to my place and he went full fucking caveman. And his dick is fucking gian-“

Your soul leaves your body as you hear a hoarse throat clear. Flipping around you see a fully clothed Joel with two cups of coffee hovering at the threshold of your bedroom door. With no notice you hang up the phone, shoving it somewhere in the bed before sitting upright.

“I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t want to subject you to the uncaffeinated version of me too early.” His movements are slow, shy almost as he hands over the cup and perches himself on the side of your bed.

“I thought you pulled an Irish goodbye on me.” You take a long sip, peering over the ceramic as you drink, the sarcasm shield firmly intact.

“And miss seeing your Cookie Monster T-shirt in the daylight? I don’t think so.” He teases, reaching for the hem of your shirt which grazes your mid thigh.

“I had a lot of fun last night.” He rests his giant warm palm on your leg, his brown eyes almost doe like.

“Me too. Think you finally broke my curse of bad dates, pretty.” You set the mug on your nightstand.

Joel flushes at the nickname, immediately taking him back to last night's events. Placing his mug next to yours, he scoots forward, cradling your jaw and placing a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips.

Unable to resist, he deepens the kiss. His big fingers thread through the mess of tangled curls as his breathing becomes heavier.

Pulling away, he keeps your faces close together as he scans your sleepy features. A goofy looking grin works its way across his face as he chuckles softly.

“What?”

He shakes his head softly, the smirk not letting up. “Can I have your number?”

Your head bows slightly, falling to rest on his broad chest as a silent laugh works its way through your shoulders. The sex last night was incredible, not the typical first time timidness so the thought of this man not having your number seems so ridiculous.

Joel presses a kiss into your hair, inhaling that scent that now makes something stir at the base of his spine.

Sunday afternoon rolled in slowly. Joel stayed for a hearty breakfast of cocoa puffs before heading back home, the impression of him lasting through the sweet ache in between your thighs.

Your current boyfriend, the high fairy king, had just slayed the mortal who spoke ill of his mate as a notification pops up on your phone from the Texan himself.

[image attached]

damn, that looks so good

I’m jealous

Last night work you up an appetite?

certainly did

it is good

but it’s got nothing on what I ate last night

The smile on your face had your cheeks hurting. Last night was not a normal first date. The level of attraction and passion you’d felt was nothing you’d ever experienced.

Rolling your head to rest on the top of your couch, you can’t imagine any date going better than your one with Joel. It makes you anxious but in a way where it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

Before you can reply to Joel your phone pings again, but this time the message from your best friend.

Okay gentleman Joel might’ve been good but just wait for first date number two before you make up your mind.

This is Javier. 🙂‍↕️😮‍💨😚😋🫠

Clearing your throat you look at the image of date number two.

Think I should give him a shot.

For science. 🙂‍↕️🤓

npt/ tag list 🏷️ @gothcsz @chasingthepoguelife @mandaloriankait @probablyreadinsmut @half-moon16 @brittmb115 @noisynightmarepoetry @maried01 @witchy-and-persnickity @drunk-and-capable @angiewatson @toshatoshalopez @qutequeersstuff @indiegirlunited @jolalibrary @sheepdogchick @regularjoel @iknowisoundcrazy

#pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #modern day au #modern day Joel miller #plus size reader #tlou fanfic #Joel Miller #fic!thenextsevendates #cuppajoelfic

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lushleona · 2 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ slytherin boys as minions

after having a very random chat with @pizzaapeteer, i wanted to make this post connecting mattheo, theo, and enzo to the main minions in the minions movie 🤭 so now here we are…. if you haven’t seen the minions movie, what are you doing with your life?

mattheo riddle ⤑ bob!

mattheo is so bob-coded it’s not even funny. he’ll punch someone in a hallway and then cry about a sad cat video 5 minutes later. like yeah he tries to act all tough and mysterious with the whole “i could kill you with my pinky finger” vibe, but deep down? he’s just bob. emotionally attached to random objects, maybe a hoodie or a lighter he found on the street. needs constant reassurance. would absolutely carry around a stuffed animal if he thought no one was watching. gets way too excited about the smallest things and then tries to play it off like he didn’t just light up like a golden retriever. chaotic but in a “please love me” way. has no idea what’s going on 80% of the time but will fight to the death for his friends (and win). he’s got that unhinged loyalty mixed with baby brother energy. everyone’s like “don’t let mattheo do that” and he’s already doing it with a grin and zero regard for consequences. bob in combat boots, basically.

theodore nott ⤑ kevin!

theo is literally kevin with a wand. he’s the tall older sibling of the group who didn’t ask for this but somehow got stuck with the responsibility anyway. constantly cleaning up mattheo and enzo’s messes while muttering “i hate it here” under his breath. gives off “i’m above this” energy but will absolutely throw hands if someone messes with his friends. looks calm but is internally screaming 24/7. if he loses his book or his peace and quiet for even a second, it’s over. like, kevin is brave and protective, but also dramatic as hell when things don’t go his way. wants to be the hero, but ends up babysitting bob and stuart 24/7, just like theo with matt and enz. poor guy. reluctantly the dad friend. someone get him a stress ball. and send help. or coffee.

lorezno berkshire ⤑ stuart!

lorenzo berkshire is stuart in human form and there’s no convincing me otherwise. he’s got that chaotic middle-child energy—too cool to care, but somehow always in the middle of the drama. probably owns five guitars he can’t actually play and flirts his way out of detention. the type to accidentally set something on fire and say “oops” with wide eyes and zero remorse, then run away and blame someone else. lives for the bit. you think he’s not paying attention but he hears everything. gets bored in 2.5 seconds and starts annoying theo just for fun. somehow both the problem and the vibe. just stuart with better hair and abs tbh.

navigation. dividers by @kodaswrld

#???#is this a work?? 😭#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #theodore nott #theo nott #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #harry potter #slytherin #minions #despicable me #theo nott fic #enzo berkshire fic #— ; 𝐥𝐞𝐨’𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 🎨 ྀི #mattheo blurbs #theo blurb #enzo blurb

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furiouskettle · 2 months ago

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random Look Outside character headcanons/opinions

(may be incorrect cause ive just been watching playthroughs. going off of the info i got from that which may be missing some parts.)

body horror talk, spoilers from all over the game and ending under the cut.

Sam

I love sam. hes just nice (potentially a pushover) and a dork. HES JUST A GUY!!!! i love that the game gives him time to show you how he’s processing his/your actions?

Really funny to me that him being unemployed is part of the reason he’s the protagonist. Can’t become a monster if you don’t have to go outside.

Am curious why he isn't working at the grocery store (if he did work there). did he leave or get fired?

OW losing an arm has GOTTA HURT. i cast pain upon this man.

his hair is just Like That no matter what he does

Joel

mY SWEET BABY BOYYYY i want to see him grow up big and strong (not too big and strong considering the everything but you get the idea).

looks like he has some form of "vision" post-mutation?? he doesnt seem to have any issue playing video games so i opt that he can “see”, just not very well. it’s short range and fuzzy. might be more of a feeling of his surroundings than real vision? whatever it is, it's good enough to play super jump lad.

I also HC that he’d developed shortsightedness when he had eyes, just that nobody had noticed yet that he’s squinting at things more than he should…

I think his biting/devouring is involuntary when he’s agitated. thankfully it hasn’t come to him biting any friends so far!

get this boy some popsicle sticks to gnaw on. not even for tooth reasons. eight year olds just love chewing on popsicle sticks. (preferably after popsicle has been consumed)

Apart from not fully understanding everything going on due to his age, he seems a bit dazed from the mutation and probably has brain fog for a few days after, which is Definitely not helping sam with the Oh My God this kid doesnt know his parents are dead. OH GOD I KILLED THIS KID'S PARENTS AND I HAVE STOLEN HIM AWAY

oddly chill with losing teeth. has taken some of his baby teeth out by himself! gives joel my childhood trait of oh hey my tooth is wobbling! lemme get rid of that real quick. twist twist twist

Jeanne

i dont have much to say on her atm but she’s lovely and really doesnt deserve what happens to her. on the bright side the worst seems to be over for her?? if she’s still growing does that mean that she’s gonna have to be like “oop a new head’s budding. gotta get someone to lop that off for me before it becomes a problem.”

Lyle

FIRST OF ALL i LOVE how his design kind of references how old cameras had to be covered with fabric so the photo wouldn't fail.

i think he wore glasses when he was human! …the lenses got absorbed into his face. the camera he was holding did too. I think he didn’t own as many cameras as he ended up with. That big one he has seems specific enough that maybe that was the one he was using to snap a sky pic??? idk if he touched any other cameras after that but THAT one has gotta be the one he was holding.

idk if he finds spiders GROSS but he is definitely the kind of person to be afraid to be in the same room as one.

I think most of his legs are telescopic to some degree! he just doesnt see the need to make himself any taller than he already is, except for photography reasons.

reiterating from one of my doodle posts, i like to think his eye lenses shed over time. if you took off the lens early on an eye (via injury) it would have weak vision. built-in glasses!

I hope the soul photo thing is like a special attack thing for him that he has to set up intentionally? it feels mean to have all the photos he takes with his built in cameras be the soul-stealing kind. he does take photos by accident/involuntarily a lot but the one he takes after the kiss with sam is totally on purpose and he absolutely still has that one. concerning.

idk if he gets out of his apartment much during the Visit, but it could be that HE hasnt seen any mutations worse than his/doesnt know that sam has totally seen worse. Hence why he's trying to hide so hard from Sam (not to mention the guy is crushing HARD, he's not gonna wanna be vulnerable in front of him).

....also hideous monster or not hes naked under there. i dont blame him for wanting to stay cloaked

Xaria & Monty

oh god theyre art students. that explains SO much.

very funny to me that xaria heard a voice in her head compelling her to check out the window and decided she’s gonna be contrarian about it.

I imagine a lot of Monty’s projects are setting something on fire. shows up to class with a pile of plastic baby heads. sets them ablaze. the most important part of being an art student is the time honored tradition of bullshitting some sort of meaning that’s gonna satisfy the lecturer.

Probably decent at life drawings but he keeps burning his works. (not to mention realism doesnt appear to be his kind of style)

Xaria feels like she’d stick to slightly more traditional mediums (painting, sculpture)? a lot of surrealism, mixed media, themes of nonconformity and violence. has totally used blood in a project before. More intentional about the meaning of her art- the intention being that she wants to make people uncomfortable.

i think it’d be hilarious if they’d been binging horror movies the night before. funniest options are The Thing and Tetsuo the iron man.

Since Sam mutates into something regardless of what you do up on the roof, i’m guessing the same goes for these two if you bring them up there. cool/nasty idea for their mutation is they fuse into one being... not necessarily an idea im running with atm but fun to think abt anyway

Sybil

AGH, sybil….. i love her. she's just really nice...

I think she’s in some sort of schrödinger’s cat situation - dead and alive until observed. or maybe like a quark (particle that cannot be observed but you can see the effects of it).

it’s unclear if someone ever was next door to you, but if I recall the astronomers tell you there’s no way she’s there? (cant recall if its bc she was “dead” by then or if its the totally wrong floor.)

the game says it was a mystery what happened to sybil, but a potential course of events could be your Real Neighbour just got sucked outta their window same as what happens to you if you look and sybil THINKS shes next door to you.

I’m pretty sure she’s in all of the walls? some of her text implies that, even tho she doesnt seem to be really aware of it.

far as she knows, she's in her apartment. what's her apartment like? well, it's an apartment. it's got walls. she can see out the peephole. there's.... furniture. What else do you want?

(man. between her, the pipe lady, the water pump guy, and the boiler room the walls are CROWDED. no wonder the roaches decide to move to your place.)

The Visitor

what do i even say about it? it is, in the most direct meaning of the word, awesome. it’s unfathomably immense. it's beautiful. it's horrifying. I love that in a single eye out of infinite eyes, it sees a miniscule creature who just wants to live. Sam becomes a smaller reflection of the Visitor, and the visitor gains a fraction of what makes sam human…

I wonder, did the visitor even “exist” until witnessed? same as sybil, maybe it could have some quantum thing going on. i can’t speculate on this any more than the astronomers have.

Sam (ritual-denial)

while it’s the nicest ending possible, i still feel kinda bad for sam :( he can never be truly alone anymore, but at the same time isn’t becoming a giant god-creature kind of isolating? sure, he must grow used to it over time but MAN. WHAT AN ADJUSTMENT.

regardless, it’s nice that he decides to use his new form to take care of the world, and sounds like he probably gets some extra brain capacity to be able to do all the stuff he does. (probably a few extra mini-brains to control the different arm nodes)

I hope he gets to take time for himself too, sometimes. probably sleeps like a dolphin (switch off half the brain for a power nap)

I don't think he can do verbal communication (at least, it's gonna take him a WHILE to figure out how to talk with his feelers) but at least there's keyboards.

also its funny how he gains like a gajillion arms after potentially losing one of two.

also i love the cafe patrons and the mutants at the camp. theyre all so fun. AND MANUEL FUNKY LITTLE DUDE WITH THE JAMS.

i need to find more about the lady with the slasher mask i just know she exists.

@mtgc858 @deafeningfestivalpaper @kasprawn39 @contract-crawdad @goawaypopup @eyessss come get yer headcanons

anyway uhhhhhhh hope you found my rambling fun to read byee

#teapot noises #look outside #look outside game #look outside spoilers #ok i keep going back and adjusting things and spending too much time so im just gonna stop here

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bvrnesher · 3 months ago

Note

Hi!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO BIKER LEO VALDEZ HEADCANONS 🙏

𝝑𓏲 — ¡! Leo Valdez ! Biker Hc

tap here for chb masterlist ! here for reqs info

warnings: none.

ㅤ୨ৎ —˳ leo valdez ! reader

a/n: DID I JUST READ BIKER LEOOOOO??? hell, yeah. here's ur req, sweetheart.

His bike is an absolute Frankenstein. It’s not just a regular motorcycle—it’s custom-built with hidden flamethrowers, a button that makes it go way faster than legally allowed, and a horn that plays the Fast & Furious theme. No one knows how it works except Leo, and honestly? He’s just vibing at this point.

The world’s most chaotic driver. He will take a shortcut over a sidewalk. He will do a wheelie just to hear you scream. He will race a random dude at a red light just because the guy looked at him funny. And if you’re riding with him? You better hold on tight, because he’s laughing the whole time.

Flirting is second nature. "C’mon, princesa, hop on. I promise I’m a very responsible driver." (He is not.) The second you wrap your arms around his waist, he’s grinning like an idiot. He’ll casually say something like, “Careful, mi amor, hold me too tight and I might fall for you.”

Fixes your bike/car/any piece of machinery for free. But don’t think you’re getting away without a price—he’ll lean against his bike, grease-streaked arms crossed, smirking. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Just owe me a date or, like, a hundred kisses. Your choice.”

Always smells like motor oil and something warm—cinnamon? Burnt sugar? No one knows. But somehow, it works. He’s the type to wipe his hands on his jeans, push his hair back, and then cup your face, leaving smudges on your skin like a brand. “Oops,” he grins. “Guess you’re mine now.”

Loves the way you cling to him. When he speeds up just a little too much and you grip him tighter? Ego boost. He’ll chuckle, resting a hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles while saying, “Scared, cariño? Don’t worry, I got you.”

Midnight joyrides that turn into deep talks. He’ll take you out to the middle of nowhere, lay back on his bike, and just talk about everything—his dreams, his past, how he once almost set himself on fire trying to fix a carburetor. And when you start getting sleepy? He’ll pull you into his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder. “We can stay a little longer,” he murmurs.

Is lowkey jealous but plays it off. Someone else checking you out? He’s all smirks and jokes until you’re alone, then he’s casually pulling you into a kiss, hands firm on your hips. “Dunno why anyone else is looking,” he whispers. “You’re already mine.”

Would literally build you a custom bike. And when he gives it to you, he’ll act all nonchalant. “Oh, this? Yeah, I just had some spare parts lying around. No big deal.” (It was a big deal. He spent weeks making it perfect for you.)

The type to pull over just to kiss you. The night air, the hum of the engine cooling down, his hands cupping your face as he murmurs, “You having fun, cariño?” before pressing his lips to yours—Leo is dangerously good at making your heart race, on and off the road.

Will 100% take both hands off the handlebars just to mess with you. You’re holding onto him for dear life, and this menace just leans back, stretches his arms out like he’s on a Sunday cruise. “What, you don’t trust me?” he teases, laughing when you yell at him to grab the damn handlebars.

His bike is held together by equal parts genius and questionable decisions. “Leo, why is there a button labeled ‘DO NOT PRESS’?”

“For emergencies.”

“What kind of emergency?”

“Dunno. Haven’t tested it yet.”

His flirting gets worse when he’s on his bike. Every time you ride with him, expect non-stop lines like:

“You should sit in front next time, so I can hold you.”

“You know, if you keep holding me this tight, people are gonna think we’re together.” Pause. “Wait, we are together.”

“You scared, princesa? Don’t worry, I’m an expert at handling things. Wanna see?”

Does the whole ‘rev the engine just to impress you’ thing. You roll your eyes every time, but the smirk on his face says he knows you secretly love it.

He absolutely sings while riding. Yelling off-key to whatever’s blasting in his earbuds. One time he took you on a ride and started belting Livin’ on a Prayer at full volume. Did he almost crash because he got too into it? Yes. Did he recover like nothing happened? Also yes.

Picks you up from work/school just to flex. He’ll roll up, lean against his bike with his helmet under one arm, and give you that smirk. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.” And yeah, he definitely speeds off just to make sure everyone knows who you’re leaving with.

Has no patience for traffic. If there’s a line of cars, Leo is gone. Alleyway? He’s taking it. Sidewalk? Oops. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he says, weaving between cars. “Laws are just, like… suggestions, anyway.”

Builds you a matching helmet. And of course, it’s not a regular helmet—he’s added Bluetooth speakers, a visor that doubles as a mini screen, and probably some kind of secret gadget just for fun. “What? You gotta look cool when you’re riding with me.”

Cannot resist showing off. Takes turns way sharper than necessary, speeds up when he knows you’re not expecting it, and definitely does little tricks when no one’s around. “Babe, did you see that?” (You did see it, and you’re still processing whether it was hot or if he’s just an idiot. Probably both.)

Acts all smooth but gets flustered when you take control. You pull him in by his jacket for a kiss? He short-circuits. You run your hands along his thighs while riding? He’s done. You whisper, “Faster, Leo” in his ear? Yeah. He’s never recovering from that.

Leaves greasy fingerprints on your skin. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it—he’ll be working on his bike, then tug you in for a kiss, leaving smudges along your jawline. When you point it out, he just grins. “Oh no. Guess you’re marked now.”

After a long ride, he’s got that ‘just wrecked you’ energy. Hair messy from the wind, breathing heavy, leather jacket unzipped, a cocky grin as he pulls his helmet off in slow motion like he’s in a damn movie—yeah. You’re in trouble.

If you ever steal his jacket, he is never recovering. Seeing you in it? Absolute KO. He’ll just stare for a solid 10 seconds before going, “Yeah. Okay. That’s illegal. You can’t be looking that good in my stuff.”

Late-night rides turn into make-out sessions. He’ll find some hidden spot, park the bike, and pull you onto his lap. The city lights flicker in the distance, but all he cares about is you—his hands on your waist, his lips brushing against yours, murmuring, “Best view in the world, and I’m not even looking at the skyline.”

Loves the thrill, but loves you more. Leo’s reckless, but when it comes to you? He’s always careful. The moment you seem even a little uncomfortable, he’s slowing down, checking in, making sure you’re okay. Because yeah, he loves the adrenaline, but nothing matters more than you being safe, happy, and laughing with your arms wrapped around him.

#bvrnesher #‧₊˚✧ s. posting !#pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #riordanverse #riordanverse x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson #leo valdez x you #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez x reader #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo oc #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus

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oh-no-its-bird · 5 months ago

Text

Kakashi Anastasia AU. Specifically bc I started listening to once upon a december on loop, oops

But umm. Anastasia AU. Taking place in a weird mix of old Russia and old Japan with little to no shinobi presence. The Hatake house was once this great, powerful clan that ruled over Iron Country, till a man (stuck between Danzo or Madara— tho also Orochimaru could make for a funny Rasputin) swore to tear them down from their lofty position

Eventually pretty much the entire clan is killed and or scattered, and in the chaos Sakumo and Kakashi manage to escape the palace but are separated. Years pass and the political climate has chilled the fuck out, and while the Hatake's are no longer in charge, Sakumo remains in a position of relative wealth and power

Kakashi, meanwhile, who was a child at the time of the upheaval, has grown up and no longer remembers his father or anything of his former life— he doesn't even remember his previous name, going instead by Sukea.

But there's a rumor on the streets, that somehow Kakashi had survived. And that his father would pay his weight in gold to see him again

And so between markets selling old Hatake belongings stolen from the palace, Rin and Obito strike up a plan to find themselves a Kakashi look alike, train him to the part, and present him as the "real" Kakashi— all for the reward.

And they find the perfect Kakashi in the shape of one street boy named Sukea

So I'm typing this out and I cant lie, I'm a bit torn between Kakashi as our Anastasia or Sakumo. I think both could make for pretty interesting stories, so lets just do both, actually. For fun.

Kakashi as Anastasia

So like I said, Rin and Obito as Dimitri and Vladimir.

They're scrappy street conmen, and their latest great idea to get the hell out of their shitty situation called life is to make themselves a 'Kakashi' to present to Sakumo and hopefully get the big reward.

This plan sounds pretty shitty, but they have one big advantage— Obito and Rin both actually used to work in the palace, and were there the night the Hatake's fell. In fact, that night Obito actually helped Kakashi and Sakumo both escape through one of the hidden servants halls, set into the wall as a false wall. So he came out of that night knowing how they'd escaped and also holding onto a music box that belonged to Kakashi, which he'd dropped.

Obito's big plan is to use the music box to prove his Kakashi is the real one, as presumably only the real one would have it, especially since he'd had it on that fateful night (till he dropped it anyways)

So, Rin and Obito find Sukea, and they're like "oh man this is perfect, you have the hair and everything!" and Sukea is like "??? who are you people leave me the fuck alone???"

And the thing is, they dont like. Want to tell Sukea they want him to pretend to be Kakashi, bc he'd say no. But they have an advantage bc Sukea just so happens to have a very poor memory of his childhood, is an orphan, and is about the right age! So they instead just begin to gaslight him into believing he really is Kakashi

After a couple roadblocks, this works,,, surprisingly well, actually.

Anyways just Rin, Obito and Sukea road trip to fire country to reunite Sukea with his maybe dad, Sakumo

Over the course of getting there, little bits and pieces of his childhood begins to come back to Sukea. Helped along, ofc, by Obito and Rin feeling his own history to him.

And ofc as Rin and Obito are feeding him this information he's going "omg its all coming back to me,, I remember that guy,, I also remember (thing they never told him about)"

And they're looking nervously at each other like "??? did you tell him that?? I didn't tell him that"

and Sukea is taking to their lessons incredibly easily (almost like he really did this all as a kid, wow how impressive)

And at this point also just, have fun w the Hatake lore. Really get in there, there's a great excuse of Rin and Obito teaching him about his families history.

Uhh fun scene of Obito teaching Sukea to ballroom dance,,,, Rin is playing music for them as Kakashi takes to it like a fish to water, quickly outpacing Obito. Rin is giving a side eye at the romantic tension between them as Obito gets way too flustered as Sukea teases him ab who there is the real dance instructor

It's around this time that Sukea really does become Kakashi, even in his own mind

They arrive in fire country !!!

Obito and Rin are both starting to feel uhh,, a bit of guilt for having so thoroughly gaslit Sukea into thinking he's Kakashi, especially as when they arrive, they are hearing rumors of how there are plenty of other fake Kakashi's hounding Sakumo.

And like. Oh man, if their Kakashi is caught as a fake it'll probably fucking crush him. They've convinced this man that he's going to meet his long-lost father.

But also, hey, if they get him in, everyone's happy, right? Sukea gets a father, Sakumo gets a son, Rin and Obito get their money!

And then they'll split ways. And that's fine. Obito is so fine about that. There's no reason at all why he'd feel bad about having to split up from Kakashi now, like, at all. In the slightest. Shut the fuck up Rin.

(Obito might be starting to catch a feeling or two and its just all a mess. It's a slow moving car crash and they're in too deep to back out now)

So they approach Sakumo— or try to, anyways. Seeing as he's, yk, the last standing Hatake, important guy, all that, they don't get very far. But they do manage to get an audience with one of his servants. Who for this we're going to say is uhhhhhhh

throwing a dart at a board here, yk what? Dan. Sakumo's trusted second in this au is gonna be Dan, Tsunade's dead boyfriend. Good for him.

So they get an audience with Dan, and Obito and Rin are like "omg look its the REAL Kakashi !!!!" and Dan is like "yeah thats what the last 10 "real Kakashi's" all said."

But he starts asking Kakashi questions, ab his history, all that, and it's going pretty well. Kakashi has remembered a lot of this, and had a lot more of it trained into him by Rin and Obito— who are, by the way, also in the room and sweating bullets as the interrogation happens.

But then Dan asks the final question. How did Kakashi get out of the palace that fateful day.

And Obito is like oh fuck I didn't tell him that one. But it's too late, bc Kakashi is thinking it over, and finally Kakashi goes,

"there was this boy,,, and he,, opened up a wall, I think. For us to escape through."

Which, again, Obito never told anyone about.

So Obito is like [incredibly loud 10 car pile up noises] oh FUCK this is THE ACTUAL KAKASHI

but he cant say shit bc the interview is ongoing and hey, good news, they passed!! Dan will go tell Sakumo he has (another) Kakashi here to see him.

So as they wait, Kakashi wanders off for some fresh air and Obito tells Rin what he realized, and Rin is like, oh my GOD????? Oh fuck, we ,,, actually found his family. Obito, we actually found the Hatake heir

and Obito is like I KNOW!!!

and Rin is like Obito, we FOUND THE ACTUAL HATAKE HEIR !!!!!

And Obito is like I KNOW !!!!!!!!!!!

So they're freaking the FUCK out but then Kakashi comes back in and they have to pretend like they weren't hyperventilating 2 seconds ago while Kakashi kinda side eyes them and goes "damn, and I thought I was nervous about this"

So. They are allowed to see Sakumo.

Specifically, Obito is allowed to see Sakumo while Rin and Kakashi wait outside in the hallway.

So Obito is brought in by Dan, whos like,

"hey boss, this is uhh—"

"Uchiha Obito"

"This is Uchiha Obito, he claims to have found Kakashi."

and Sakumo, who is hella depressed and totally sick of this shit, is like "oh great, another one."

and Obito is like, "omg ur uhh. Highness. Majesty. Sir Hatake. Fuck."

And Sakumo is looking at him, very visibly unimpressed, and it's really not helping Obito's nerves right now.

So Obito tries to make his case but Sakumo is frankly just not hearing it— he's seen so many fake Kakashi's and he's just. So tired. He wants to be left alone. His son is dead, he's given up hope.

And suddenly Sakumo is squinting and going, wait what was your name again?

And when Obito tells him, Sakumo is snorting and going "yeah bitch, I've heard of you. Werent you holding auditions for a good person to play Kakashi?"

and Obito kind of bluescreens and is like, "I mean— Yes, but— Listen, you dont understand, this is the real Kakashi!"

And Sakumo is like "Yeah, sure he is kid. I bet you trained him real nice and authentic too. Bet he's very impressive. Get the fuck outta here."

And Dan pushes him out of the room— straight into Kakashi. Who heard everything and has made some pretty damn logical assumptions, and is now totally devastated

So Kakashi Rin and Obito (but mostly Kakashi and Obito) get into a shouting match as Kakashi is just. Devastated. So what, Obito and Rin have been using him this entire time? It was all a lie? They never really thought he was Kakashi, they just played into his vulnerability and desire to know his family, because they wanted the reward money?

And Obito and Rin both are trying to say no, they promise— Or well, at first, but you have to hear them out, he's the real deal!

But they're tripping over their words in their panic and Kakashi— Sukea —isn't hearing it. Isn't interested.

Sukea stomps off, leaving a totally devastated Obito and Rin and a pretty awkward Dan, who just kinda stood by and watched this all happen like "damn, tough luck"

But it's not over yet, Obito and Rin both refuse to let it be over yet. So Rin distracts Dan as Obito proceeds to car jack Sakumo when he goes to leave the opera house this whole thing went down at.

And Sakumo is like "I will literally fucking kill you. Pull the car over NOW." as Obito is absolutely terrified for his life but more determined than ever (and just praying the glass between him and Sakumo protects his ass)

And they finally get to the hotel Kakashi and them had been staying at, and Obito slams the door open and is like "LOOK—"

Sakumo punches him in the face.

Obito is pretty sure his nose just shattered.

Obito tries again, through the blood and pain, with a now harder to understand but no less determined, "LOOK—"

His nonstop determination to be a fucking maniac is impressing Sakumo just a little bit by now, so he decides to see what this loser has to say.

Obito gives Sakumo the music box he picked up from the palace way back in the beginning of all of this, and begs him to just see Kakashi. And Sakumo, sick and tired of all of this but genuinely shaken by the reappearance of his son's music box... agrees.

So! Sakumo heads upstairs to where Kakashi is very angrily packing his shit up, getting ready to haul his ass back to Iron Country, alone. And he knocks on the door and Kakashi shouts at him to go the FUCK AWAY, OBITO !!!! HE DOESNT WANT TO SEE YOUR LYING BITCH ASS EVER AGAIN !!!!!!

And Sakumo is like, "well. You have the attitude to play my son, at least."

And Kakashi freezes and is like, "oh my god Im— Im so sorry. Oh fuck, Im so sorry, why are you here, I— I'm sorry, this is a waste of you time, I never meant to pretend to be your son, I just wanted to know who I was"

And Sakumo just kind of watches him as Kakashi keeps talking, apologizing, cursing Obito and Rin's names both, trying to explain he had no idea that this was supposed to be a con, refusing not to even look at Sakumo.

Kakashi just keeps talking till Sakumo finally interrupts, admitting, "I have to say, you are the most convincing actor I've seen so far."

Kakashi kind of blanks.

They talk.

Kakashi shares things he remembers. Sakumo listens. He tries not to hope, he tries so hard not to hope, but he can't help the feeling that wells up inside of him each passing moment that Kakashi speaks.

This entire time, Kakashi has had a necklace. It's nothing too special; he likes to fidget with it sometimes. He's had it as long as he can remember. It's now, that Sakumo notices it. Asks him what it is.

"What, this?" Kakashi looks at the necklace, which he genuinely forgets he has sometimes. "I've had it since.... forever, I guess."

Sakumo shows him the music box, and immediately, Kakashi knows what to do.

The necklace fits into the music box's lock like it was made to be there. Probably because it was.

Kakashi looks at Sakumo with the same painfully hopeful eyes, the same expression of 'Was this it? Did I do it right?' that he used to aim at his father whenever he learned something new.

Sakumo crumbles.

So!!! Reuinion time !!!! Kakashi and Sakumo both cry, it's a big messy thing, they are very happy. Tears and emotional vulnerability all around.

Rin finally makes it home, looking a little ruffled from some presumed off screen fight between her and some security guards, but fine over all. She approaches Obito, gasping out an urgent, "How did it go?"

Obito doesn't even look at her, only nods up towards the second story window. "Look for yourself."

Rin follows his gaze, greeted with the sight of father in son hugging each other like they were scared the other would disappear if they loosened their grip so much as a single fraction.

"Oh." Rin says, torn between awe and relief.

"Oh." Obito echoes, feeling about the same way.

Later that week, Obito is called in to accept his reward money. He's already discussed it with Rin, and they both agreed— they can't accept it. It... doesn't feel right.

Sakumo is surprised. Impressed, even. He walks Obito out and they pass by Kakashi, who is like, "well have a GREAT life, Obito. With all your stupid REWARD MONEY, since that's all you ever REALLY wanted!"

And Obito doesn't argue, doesn't deny it, just leaves. Figuring it's the best thing he can do for Kakashi. But as he goes, Sakumo turns to Kakashi and is like "yeah so he didnt accept the money lmao"

Kakashi blue screens.

"He,,, didn't accept,,, the money?" Then, what was this all for? What the fuck? Kakashi, above all else, finds himself really fucking mad.

So what. Obito and Rin trick him, lies to him, brings him here under false pretenses that... end up not being so false, if only by chance. Then they have the gall to NOT accept their reward, to return home in defeat, abandoning Kakashi here, like cowardly little BITCHES

Long story short: Kakashi chases after Obito in the street. It's a very busy street, they have a large audience— not that either of them seem to care.

There is screaming. There may be a punch thrown. Possibly two.

In the mess of it all, someone kisses the other. It's unclear who starts it, but the next thing Kakashi knows there are lips on his, teeth clicking angrily against his teeth as they swap from fighting with their fists to fighting in a much less effective way.

When Kakashi drags Obito back inside, his father doesn't look as surprised as Kakashi feels like he should.

Umm then they all lived happily ever after, the end <3

I ended up not really using a Rasputin character for this, which tbh Im ok with. I think the more down to earth take is kinda fun in itself, so I'll stick to it.

Anyways. On the flip side:

Sakumo as Anastasia

I think Sakumo could make a particularly interesting Anastasia in part due to his age. Because where Kakashi is this young man, honestly still probably like 18/19 year old guy, reuniting with his dad, learning about his past, all of that good stuff— Sakumo is in his early 30's, a whole grown man with a child, doing the same thing.

There's no cap on how old you can be to learn about your past or rediscover yourself, and I think Sakumo would make a fun Anastasia for that alone.

Also it's an excuse to use his mother in a plot, lmao

Sakumo has already had Kakashi, so he's like lugging around his 5 year old son with him this entire adventure, which is fun for the both of them.

I think the sanin would make for a very funny Dimitri and Vladimir. It's Jiriyah and Tsunade leading the charge on this excellent get rich quick scheme, Orochimaru is along for the ride

I spent so long on Kakashi as Anastasia, I kind of don't want to go too in depth with a Sakumo as Anastasia au, but like. It could be fun. Obviously, it'd hit p much all the same beats— this is one of those easy AUs that follow the original story pretty much one to one, tho idk if Sakumo's route would include any romance like Kakashi's did

Uhh, Sakumo/Orochimaru anyone I guess? I do love that pairing, it is true

Anyways now I'm watching this and this compellations of Dimitri, picturing him as Obito, Vladimir as Rin, and Anya as Sukea/Kakashi and having way too much fun giggling about it

Final thoughts: Anastasia is an excellent movie, you should watch it.

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yvesssssssss · 19 days ago

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Hello! Can I request a reader x nagumo where they both were assigned a mission and nagumo ended up getting jealous when the guy they were targeting was making a move on reader. It can be as spicy as you want it to be :D

—Professional jealousy

mdni!

The mission was simple.

Infiltrate. Extract information. Eliminate if necessary.

You and Nagumo had done this dance a hundred times. Disguises, sweet smiles, and small talk woven with lies—it was what you both excelled at. But something about this mission was different. Maybe it was the way the target kept leaning closer to you, his hand barely brushing your thigh under the bar table. Or maybe it was the dagger-sharp smile Nagumo gave from across the room, eyes narrowed beneath dyed brown hair and glasses, watching everything.

You’d been instructed to play the part of arm candy tonight, and unfortunately for you both, the target—Renji Sakamoto, a black-market arms dealer—was way too into it.

"So, sweetheart," Renji purred, sipping his bourbon while his hand crept over yours, "what brings a pretty thing like you to a place like this?"

You leaned forward just enough to show a hint of cleavage beneath your low-cut dress. "You did, apparently."

Nagumo, disguised as a bartender, wiped down a perfectly clean glass for the fifth time. His smile didn't reach his eyes as he watched Renji lean even closer.

You knew that look.

He was jealous.

And trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t.

Renji reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. You stiffened slightly. That was enough.

A sudden crash came from behind the bar. Glass shattered.

"Oops," Nagumo said too cheerfully. "Clumsy me."

Renji didn’t even turn. "Your bartender friend’s a bit jumpy."

You smiled through clenched teeth. "Don’t mind him. He’s... passionate about his work."

Nagumo reappeared by your table a moment later, uninvited, balancing a drink. “For the lady,” he said with a wink, setting it down. “House special.”

“Wow, personal delivery?” Renji raised an eyebrow. “Is that normal around here?”

"Only when the lady in question deserves better company," Nagumo replied smoothly.

Your heart skipped. Renji scoffed, but you could see it—he was getting annoyed.

You leaned closer to the dealer again, slipping a wire into your hand beneath the table, ready to plant it. “So... tell me more about this shipment coming in from—”

Renji's hand was suddenly on your thigh.

And Nagumo had had enough.

In a blink, Nagumo leaned down, grabbing your jaw with surprising gentleness. His voice was low, possessive, too calm.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Change of plans."

You barely had time to react before his mouth was on yours, fierce and claiming, right in front of Renji.

You gasped, clutching his shirt instinctively. He deepened the kiss, hand sliding around your waist, yanking you flush to him, almost as if to say mine.

When he finally pulled back, your lipstick was smudged, and your head was spinning.

Nagumo turned to Renji, eyes glinting with something dark. “You touch her again, I break your fingers.”

Renji’s face twisted. “You’re her boyfriend?”

Nagumo chuckled. “Let’s just say I’ve got personal investment in her survival.”

You were still trying to catch your breath when Nagumo yanked you to your feet and whispered in your ear, “Wire’s planted, right?”

You nodded, dazed.

“Perfect. Mission’s almost over.” His tone dropped. “Now let's get out of here before I do something very unprofessional.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Back at the safehouse, the air was heavy.

You didn’t even make it past the entryway. Nagumo had you pressed up against the wall, mouth hot on your throat, hands exploring with reckless urgency. All the tension from the mission—every smirk you gave that damn arms dealer, every inch Renji dared to touch—boiled over now.

“You have any idea,” he murmured, lips trailing fire along your jaw, “what it did to me watching him put his hands on you?”

You gasped as his teeth grazed your pulse. “It was just a cover—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled. “You’re mine.”

He yanked your dress up, impatient, fingers curling under your thighs as he hoisted you up. You wrapped your legs around him instinctively, gasping when your back hit the door.

“Yoichi—”

“Say it again.”

“Yoichi.”

He kissed you then—hungry, possessive, all tongue and teeth—while grinding his hips into yours. You could already feel how hard he was through his slacks, and the heat pooling in your core made you whimper.

“I should make you beg,” he muttered, voice rough in your ear. “For making me watch that shit.”

You tilted your head, breathless. “Then do it.”

He smirked like the devil himself. “Oh, sweetheart. You asked for it.”

Nagumo carried you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing. He threw you on the bed and peeled off your dress in one smooth motion, leaving you in just your underwear. He stood back for a second, eyes raking over you.

“Look at you,” he muttered. “He didn’t deserve to see a damn inch.”

You watched as he undid his shirt, slow and deliberate, revealing the toned, scar-kissed body underneath. You bit your lip, squirming under his gaze.

He noticed. “Need something?”

“Need you.”

“Good,” he said, crawling over you. “Because you’re not getting sleep until I’ve made up for every second he laid hands on you.”

His hands were everywhere—teasing over your thighs, your waist, your chest—until you were arching beneath him, grinding up for friction.

Then he dipped down, mouth latching onto your breast while his fingers slipped into your panties. You gasped as he found your sweet spot immediately, curling his fingers just right while his tongue played with your nipple.

“So wet already,” he murmured. “You like it when I get jealous, don’t you?”

You moaned. “Maybe.”

He grinned, wicked. “Brat.”

You were already close when he pulled back. “Wait—”

But he was undoing his belt now, pants dropping to reveal how painfully hard he was. He leaned over you again, voice low and dark.

“Gonna remind you who you belong to.”

And then he thrust into you, deep and slow at first, stretching you perfectly. You cried out, clutching at his back, nails digging in as he started moving faster, harder. His lips were everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, your mouth—all while he drove into you like he meant it.

“Mine,” he growled into your ear.

“Yours,” you gasped, head spinning from pleasure.

He fucked you like he wanted to brand it into your soul—leaving marks on your skin, his name on your tongue, and no doubt in your mind who you belonged to.

When you came, it was intense, overwhelming, your body trembling under his as you cried out his name. He followed moments later, groaning low in your ear as he spilled inside you, his thrusts slowing but never stopping, like he couldn’t get enough.

He stayed buried in you, panting against your neck.

“You’re never doing solo missions again,” he muttered.

You laughed breathlessly. “What, worried someone else’ll try to steal me?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, smiling softly now—still smug, but with that flicker of real emotion behind it.

“No,” he said. “I just don’t trust myself not to kill the next guy who tries.”

#sakadays #sakamoto days #sakamoto days x reader #nagumo yoichi #nagumo x reader #nagumo yoichi x reader #sakamoto days nagumo #nagumo sakamoto days #s #nagumo #nagumo smut #nagumo yoichi smut #sakamoto days smut

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ferrarifudds · 6 months ago

Text

What Are We. ✷ Paul Aron

Pairing: Paul Aron x Friend!reader

Summary: When all signs start to point that maybe you guys are more than friends.

Word Count: 2.1k

Vera’a Voice! Free time for me!!!! Which means I get to write and get down and dirty and grind. (Write.) this blurb is for my bbg Ellis. Hai. Suhhhhh. ok now adding this bit but I already wrote everything so its too late but im giggling bc I just searched and learned estonia is not that much of a warm beachy country oops. Ok Bye. my b. OH WELL.

The long-awaited summer break was something you had looked forward to since the season began. Climbing the ladder as a media intern in motorsports had been tough, but landing your big break in Formula 2 made every late night and early morning worth it.

It was one step closer to your ultimate dream.

Sure, it had been thrilling, but also more stressful than you’d ever imagined. Capturing the perfect shot, fumbling with your camera settings at the worst moments, and racing against deadlines—it was far from easy.

But despite the challenges, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Being young and working as an intern came with its own unique perks too—like getting to know some of the drivers on a personal level.

Not even a year ago would you have ever thought you’d be on a little friend vacation to Estonia with people like Paul Aron or Dino Beganovic and a couple other beloved interns that you had the pleasure of meeting.

And if you told yourself seven months ago you’d be in this scenario, you’d actually laugh.

Paul had been thoughtful enough to organize this entire trip, excited to share the beauty of his homeland with everyone.

Even after traveling halfway across the globe for this sport, Estonia easily ranked as one of the most stunning places you’d ever seen.

It was day two of this unforgettable getaway, and the late afternoon was approaching fast. The group had spent the day soaking up the sun at the beach, swimming in the crystal-clear water, and enjoying the luxurious villa you’d all pitched in to rent for the week.

But now, it was time for something even more special—Paul was finally taking you all to see his true home, where his mother had prepared a dinner that promised to be just as warm and inviting as the country itself.

Dinner in Paul’s family home was as cozy and picturesque as you’d expected. His mom had gone all out, setting the table with traditional Estonian dishes that filled the room with delicious aromas. Paul was effortlessly charming, introducing everyone to his siblings, Anna and Ralf, and making sure no one felt out of place.

You’d always known Paul had this way of making people feel special—it was part of his personality, the charm that came so naturally to him. To you, he’d always just been Paul. Sure, he was flirty sometimes, but that was just who he was, right? Nothing more.

Or so you thought.

The meal was going smoothly until Anna, his sister, casually leaned across the table and asked, “So, how long have you two been together?”

The entire table froze for half a second before erupting into giggles and suppressed laughter.

Your fork clattered against your plate as you nearly choked. “What?” you sputtered, eyes darting to Paul for backup. “We’re not—no, no. We’re not together.”

Anna blinked at you innocently. “Really? You sure? Because I would've thought—”

Ralf snickered, adding fuel to the fire. “Yeah, the way you two act—it’s like, I don’t know, kind of obvious?”

Your face burned, and you glanced at Paul, who had leaned back in his chair with a faint smirk, clearly enjoying your flustered state. He wasn’t rushing to clear anything up either.

What an idiot.

Before you could stammer out another denial, Paul’s mother chimed in, her voice light but curious. “Paul, you never told me you had a girlfriend?"

Your jaw dropped. “I’m not his—”

Paul cut in smoothly, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ema,” he said, addressing his mother, “Don't worry, I would've told you.”

The laughter at the table got even louder. Dino, seated to your right, practically doubled over as he tried (and failed) to keep his drink from spilling. One of the others whispered something that sent him into another fit of giggles.

“Sorry, but this is too good,” Dino said, wiping at his eyes. “You should see your face right now.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment, your cheeks blazing. “We’re just friends!” You insisted again, though the way everyone at the table was grinning made it clear no one believed you.

Paul leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Relax,” He said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re making this way more awkward than it needs to be.”

“You’re enjoying this,” You quietly gritted through your teeth back, side-eyeing him.

He shrugged, completely unbothered as he whispered. “A little.”

The laughter slowly died down, but the tension lingered. You tried to focus on your plate, but it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest or the way Paul kept sneaking amused glances at you.

It was just Paul, you told yourself. The same Paul who flirted with everyone, who loved teasing you, who couldn’t possibly mean anything by it. But tonight, under the warm glow of the dining room lights, surrounded by his family and friends, the line between teasing and something more felt blurrier than ever.

And the way he winked at you before taking another bite of his food only made that flutter worse.

Soon, the evening had settled in beautifully, the Estonian coastline bathed in hues of amber and violet as the last traces of sunlight dipped below the horizon.

After dinner, the group returned to the villa, laughter and chatter filling the spacious living room as everyone settled into their version of post-dinner relaxation. Dino had taken to challenging the others in a card game, while the rest debated over who would make the best DJ for the night.

You had excused yourself after a while, craving a quiet moment away from the lively energy. The villa's balcony called to you, with its perfect view of the shore and the gentle sound of waves rolling against the sand. The cool evening air kissed your skin as you leaned against the railing, letting the salty breeze fill your lungs. The horizon stretched endlessly, the water shimmering under the soft glow of the moon.

For a while, you simply let yourself get lost in the serenity of the moment, your thoughts wandering back to the chaos of dinner. The teasing, the tension, the way Paul’s gaze had lingered on you just a little too long. You shook your head, trying to brush it off as nothing more than his usual antics.

It was just Paul.

Or was it?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the door to the balcony slide open until Paul’s voice broke through the quiet.

"Got room for one more?"

You glanced over your shoulder to see him step closer, joining you anyways, his familiar smirk in place. He leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing lightly against yours. The touch was subtle, barely there, but it sent a small jolt through you nonetheless.

"You okay?" He asked.

“Just needed a little air.” You glanced at him, half-expecting him to move away, but he didn’t. If anything, he leaned closer, his gaze fixed on the horizon, as if he didn’t notice—or maybe he did.

For a while, the two of you stood in silence, the only sound the distant waves and the occasional rustle of the breeze. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly easy, either. The day’s events had left too much unsaid.

Finally, Paul broke the silence. “You know,” he began, his tone a little hesitant, “I almost planned this trip just for the two of us.”

You turned to him, surprised. “What?”

He gave you a small, self-conscious smile. “Yeah. I wanted it to be just us. I thought it’d be nice to show you where I’m from, spend some time together without… racing being in the way.” He let out a quiet laugh.

“But Dino found out, and he wouldn’t let it happen. Said it’d be too obvious, especially since we aren't, you know…”

“Together?,” You finished, your voice barely above a whisper.

Paul nodded, his gaze fixed on the shoreline. “Yeah. And I couldn’t really argue with him.. he said I could've scared you off.”

Your heart was racing now, the implications of his words sinking in. He’d wanted this trip to be just the two of you? You hadn’t even realized he’d thought about you like that.

“You actually planned this for us?” You asked, your voice soft.

He shrugged, his smile a little shy. “I wanted to show you something important to me. I thought maybe it’d mean something more.” He paused, then added with a teasing edge, “But I guess I didn’t do a great job of getting my point across.”

You blinked, the memories of all the lingering glances, the playful teasing, the way he always seemed to find a reason to be near you during race weekends were suddenly flooding your mind.

You’d brushed it off every time, chalking it up to Paul just being Paul.

But now…

“I guess.. I didn’t realize,” You admitted quietly.

Paul chuckled, his arm brushing yours again as he leaned a little closer. “Yeah, I got that impression. You’re not exactly the most perceptive when it comes to certain things.”

You shot him a half-hearted glare, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Oh, come on!" You nudged your arm against his, now even closer than ever.

"Okay, maybe I’m a little oblivious. But in my defense, you flirt with everyone. How was I supposed to know you’re serious?”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “I do flirt a lot. But not like this—not with you.” His voice dropped slightly, the sincerity in his tone making your chest tighten.

“You’re different.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. You swallowed hard, your thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and something that felt dangerously close to hope.

Paul shifted, turning to face you fully now. “Look, I’m just going to say it." He laugh, probably feeling embarrassed it's taken this long to properly ask you.

"I’ve been trying to make it obvious that I’m interested in you, but maybe I’ve been going about it the wrong way.” He let out a breath, his lips quirking into a now nervous smile. “So… what are we? Because I know what I want us to be. I’ve known for a while now. And it sucked having to deny to my family that you're my girlfriend.” He paused.

"And you have no idea how badly I wanted it to be true." He laughed softly again, shaking his head.

“I want this—us—to be something more. I’ve been dropping hints for months, and either you’re really good at ignoring them, or I’m terrible at this.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was and how genuine he was.

“I just… I didn’t think you've ever been serious,” You admitted.

“Well, I am,” He said simply, his voice steady now. “And I don’t want to dance around it anymore. Let me take you on a proper date. Just us. No Dino, no friends, no interruptions.”

You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he was looking at you—open, vulnerable, and completely earnest—made it impossible to say anything but yes.

“Okay,” You said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.”

Paul’s grin widened, and he let out a breath of relief, his hand brushing against yours briefly before he pulled back. “Good. Because I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now.”

As the waves crashed softly in the distance, the two of you leaned against the railing once more, shoulders touching. This time, the spark between you wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was a promise of something new, something real—and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

comments , likes , & reblogs are appreciated ! ^_^ kinda fw this one!!!! Ur Welcome Ellis Baef.

tags! @wdcbox @planetpedri @halfwayhearted ofc.

#paul aron #paul aron x reader #paul aron x you #paul aron x y/n #paul aron fic #dino beganovic #formula 2 #racing #motorsports #paul aron fluff #paul aron x friend #vacation #estonia #confessions #formula one #formula 2 driver #f2

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lovetommyactually · 6 months ago

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I kept thinking about lou with the small kitten, and i had to write this.. and oops, everything Tommy does here is actually things i have done 🫣

Note: they live together in Tommy’s house 🫡 ao3

Buck carefully carried the small carrier into the house. His heart raced as he glanced at the tiny cat inside, her fur a patchwork of gray and white, her bright green eyes wide with a mixture of fear and suspicion. She had been shaking when Buck found her earlier that day during a call. Tucked beneath a dumpster near the scene of a kitchen fire, she was alone, filthy, and trembling with fear. Buck couldn’t leave her there—not after she’d let him coax her out with a soft voice and some spilled takeout someone had left behind.

The guys at the station had teased him about it all afternoon. Chimney had even called her Buck’s “new soulmate.” But Buck didn’t care. All he could think about was Tommy—how much Tommy loved cats but didn’t have one of his own, how Tommy always made time for every stray they encountered.

Tommy was practically the neighborhood’s unofficial cat dad. Every morning on his runs, he’d stop by a little orange tabby’s favorite spot to leave some kibble. On their evening walks, he’d carry a pouch of treats just in case they ran into the scruffy black-and-white tomcat near the corner store. If Buck wasn’t with him, Tommy would send pictures with captions like, “Ran into Princess today. She judged me harshly but still accepted the snacks.” Or, “Look at this guy. Absolute king behavior. Think he’d let me pet him if I had tuna?”

Once, Buck caught him kneeling in someone’s yard, talking softly to a trio of kittens as if they were his own children. Another time, Tommy disappeared for twenty minutes during their grocery run only to reappear with a grin and a bag of wet food. “The alley cat behind the store needed dinner,” Tommy had explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t just the neighborhood cats that Tommy cared for—he also had a soft spot for a sleek black cat that hung around harbor.

The crew at the 217 had affectionately named her Midnight, though she never let anyone but Tommy get close.

Lucy had sent pictures of Tommy hanging out with Midnight to him, "thought this might interest you," and it did.

Every time before their shift started, Tommy would crouch by harbor's back entrance with a can of food he brought from home. Midnight would appear like clockwork, padding out from the shadows with her tail high and proud, but only after she saw it was him.

“Morning, beautiful,” Tommy would say softly, setting the food down and watching as Midnight dove in. While she ate, he’d sit cross legged nearby, occasionally murmuring to her about his day or the latest drama at work, and of course, about Evan.

One day, Lucy had caught him mid chat. “You know she’s not gonna answer, right?” She teased, leaning against the wall.

Tommy shrugged, unfazed. “Doesn’t mean she’s not listening. Right, Midnight?”

Midnight flicked her tail but didn’t stop eating. Lucy laughed, shaking her head. “You’re a cat whisperer, man. She hisses at everyone else.”

Tommy grinned. “She just has good taste.”

Later, when Tommy sent Buck a picture of Midnight lounging in the sun outside the station, the caption read, “Queen of the 217. She’s graciously accepted my tribute for today.”

Buck loved seeing that side of him—soft, patient, endlessly kind. He’d always wanted to give Tommy a cat of his own, but he wasn’t sure how Tommy would feel about the responsibility. That uncertainty was back now as he set the carrier down in their living room. Wiping his palms on his jeans, he crouched and opened the door. The cat didn’t move, her ears flattened.

"Hey, it's okay," Buck whispered. "You’re gonna love it here. I promise."

The sound of a key turning in the lock made Buck’s stomach flip. He stood as the door opened, and Tommy stepped inside, his duffle slung over one shoulder. His gaze landed on the carrier immediately.

“Evan,” Tommy said slowly, his brows furrowing. “What’s this?”

“It’s, uh, a cat,” Buck blurted. “I found her on a call today. She was under a dumpster, and she was so scared, Tommy. I couldn’t just leave her there. And I know you love cats, and you’re always taking care of the strays, so I thought maybe… you’d want her? I mean, we would both take care of her, of course, but I thought…”

Tommy dropped his bag on the couch and knelt by the carrier, peering inside. His expression softened instantly. “Oh, she’s gorgeous,” he breathed. “Hey, sweetheart.”

To Buck’s astonishment, the cat took one cautious step out, then another. She sniffed the air, her green eyes locking onto Tommy as if he were the only safe thing in the room. When Tommy held out his hand, she walked straight to him, rubbing her cheek against his fingers.

Buck crossed his arms, mock-offended. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, and she wouldn’t even look at me.”

Tommy looked up, his grin lighting up the room. “What can I say? Cats know who their people are.”

“Wow,” Buck said, rolling his eyes but smiling. “This is the thanks I get.”

Tommy laughed, pulling Buck down beside him and kissing him softly. “Thank you,” he murmured, “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Then, as if a switch flipped, Tommy sat up straighter, his eyes lighting up. "Okay, so we need to get her a proper bed—maybe one of those ones that doubles as a hideaway? And toys, but nothing too loud, and some good quality food. Do you know if she likes wet food or kibble? No? it's fine, we'll figure it out. Do you think she would prefer one of those little climbing towers or something simpler? Also, we'll need to take her to the vet soon, just to make sure she's healthy and up to date on everything. Oh, and I have to clear some space in the corner by the window for her to sit in the sun. She's going to love that. I'll-"

"Tommy," Buck interrupted, grinning despite himself.

Tommy blinked, his cheeks flushing. "What?"

"You're rambling"

"Well, of course I'm rambling, Evan. Look at her! She's perfect, and she's scared, and she needs us."

Buck wrapped his arms around Tommy, relief washing over him. “I had no idea how you’d react,” he admitted. “I was scared you’d think it was too much or something.”

Tommy shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s perfect, Evan. You’re perfect.” He looked down at the cat, now curled up against his leg, her eyes finally closing in peace. “And she’s home now.”

Buck chuckled, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s temple. "Guess I’m gonna have to share you now, huh?"

Tommy smirked. “You’ve always had to share me—with every cat in the neighborhood.”

“Yeah, but now I’ve got competition in my own house,” Buck teased, earning a playful shove from Tommy.

As they sat there, the cat softly purring between them, Buck realized he didn’t mind sharing at all. Not when it made Tommy this happy.

#cat dad Tommy my beloved #she eventually loves buck and is the only cat that actually loves buck 🥰#oh look at me not working on my 10 other fics just to write this. a round of applause #bucktommy fic #bucktommy #tommy kinard #*

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crows-in-the-house · 9 months ago

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Envy

summary: hc's for Bill being jealous and doing awful things to everyone around you

pairing: yan! jealous!Bill Cipher x gn!reader

tw: toxic behaviours, mention of sex (at the end), death of a pet

his actions would be dependent on how much you spend time with either him or them - whoever "they" are. A pet? How cute, how silly, oops it's dead! What? It would die in a year anyway, stop making a fuss.

do you have a pack of friends? He wants to meet them! Let's see what kind of worthless scums try to take your attention from him!

a partner??? Do you know how much those things take from yours his time? You should break up with them this instant! Chop chop kid we have galaxies to overthrow!

at first he would be delicate, testing the ground and just manipulating you into spending more time with him. Maybe he would start adding some praise here and there, maybe doing actual nice things, like creating an (actually edible) meal out of thin air, or stopping the rain when you don't have an umbrella on you

just for you kid, just for you

soon it wouldn't be enough tho. He would start possesing you - promising he needs only twenty minutes and won't harm your body. Why not, what could go wrong?

this way he would "meet up" with your friends. At first he would just break in to their hauses and watch them sleep, wondering what do you see in them. What alse would you possibly need that he can't offer?

he would start reading their diaries, sometimes destroying the pages in the fit of rage at a mere mention of you. (The same would happen with their minds, if he would notice them dreaming about you)

would put ropes and knifes everywhere, break every lightbulb, draw triangles and ominous runes that somehow make their insides itchy. Maybe he would switch their salt with sugar. Or arsenic, who knows.

what would happen if all of that wouldn't work? That you still hang out and are even closer? That you start suspect Bill has been doing something suspicious lately? He would move to a different tactic of course.

also would tie them in their closets and set their homes on fire

it would be making you intruduce him to all your friends. He would make you sing praises of him and all his good deeds. After all, he's your inspiration, companion, best friend, your everything! Why not spend time with your other friends and "loved ones" together?

(he would not acknowladge your partner as gf/bf, no, it's just "that other mammal", but what's wrong with that, Bill is just Bill, he calls people stupid names all of the time!)

oh how cute you are, not noticing how uncomfortable all of those meatbags are. You just adore him, right?

every time you'd leave the room he would start gushing about you two spending time together. He would imply you prefering him, loving spending time with together, laughing and doing interesting stuff alone, just the two of you, kinda like a pair.

he would make gross remarks about their appereances, getting right into their insecurities. But why would that matter? They are not good enough anyway!

he would also posses you during sex making you moan his name instead of your partners. But don't act so fussy! It was just a joke!

if he would want to especially get under your partners skin (not litterally this time) he would gush about you hugging and kissing him every day. In reality it's just him squizing and licking you but tbh he doesn't see the difference

he would destroy all your matching clothes and accesoriess, no matter if it was with your friends, family or partner. It could be some 6 year old ex memrabilia, he doesn't care, it goes to the fire when he finds it, the only one you can match with is your lord and saviour Bill Cipher!

but don't think he would be only cruel! He would always whisper you just the sweet nothings when you're tauching yourself! Oh come on, just go on and stop telling him to leave, he needs to study human anatomy!

over all, this guy would be possesive and cruel not only to you, but also everything in your proximity

#bill cipher headcanons #yandere bill cipher x reader #bill cipher x you #bill cipher x reader #gravity falls #thetalkingcrow #gravity falls x reader #toxic relationship #minors dni

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bloodchapell · 3 months ago

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I like ur “living with dr stone characters” and for stano it’s being adopted 😂 So I like to request what would it be like to be adopted by them. Frankly I think it’s both terrifying and hilarious 🤣

stanxeno adoptive parents hcs!

what to expect: BLATANT stanxeno, mix between modern au and canon

your sword's note: thankyu so much for the request dear anon! hope you enjoy this madhouse, more on my mistresslist

after a very discrete wedding, these two decide to adopt a child. you happen to be the (un)lucky one (?)

they didn't want a baby, they wanted someone very particular, so they both made a list and went to the adoption center checking off kids that didn't meet their standards, oops sorry!

they were interviewing the kids as if they were applying for a government job. "do you have any association with the cancelation of project helium-3?" xeno stares at a 5 year old

when its time for you to go to the interviewing room, you sit on the chair and look at them, "what do you have to offer for me?" it is you asking, that sets them off, but they notice immediately that you match their bizarre energy. you are 3 years old and so daring that immediately they feel a connection

i head canon them as girl dads, omgggg these two would spoil their daughter rotten, you want something? you got it. some little turd pushed you in the playground? his parents mysteriously got fired and his lunchbox exploded. you are their little princess and whoever may dare to even look at you wrong shall have a taste of their wrath

stanley teaches you how to defend yourself from day one and xeno is explaining to you how to build missiles as bedtime stories

all their friends and coworkers know you, they both talk everyone's ear off about you

surprisingly loving (yeah i hate them but whateva)

if you pick up an interest they will listen to everything you have to say and learn it all about it

they take you everywhere. "why is xeno's kid on nasa's top secret document archive coloring on a random folder!?" some guy yells but xeno picks you up and looks at them deathly. for more logical reasons stanley won't be taking you to his job but he makes sure to tell you all about it

your room is decorated amazingly, and precisely you are allowed to have a fish, they say you are not responsible enough to have a bigger pet, the fish's name is brody, like THE brody, he doesn't mind

that house is a madhouse, but you fit perfectly there

you are taught how to do chores and be organized because otherwise xeno will become a little more evil

omg this guys will be so annoying. "my kid just learned how to read" some person says. "well my kid already knows how to solve linear equations AND knows the My Little Pony lore." they brag so much that they are loathsome to people

if petrification happened:

you were still a kid when the petrification happened, younger than suika. you were playing in the area where they got petrified because they will NOT be leaving you with some untrusty nanny

xeno gets depetrified and he immediately looks for you, makes you some clothes and puts you in the safest place possible. since these mfs focused on making guns instead of figuring out how to depetrify people, you stay a statue for a good while

gen asks "what is a young kid's statue doing here?" xeno grabs him by the neck and gives him the dad death look™, and soon the barrel of stanley's gun is facing the innocent mentalist

you either love senku or hate his guts, wym your daddy was proud of this guy first (by that time you weren't even born)

suika sees you as the cutest thing ever and you kinda remind her of herself before

you are jokingly named "the one who might become a superpower", trained by the evil duo, everyone expects you to match and even surpass your dads. you will. they know it. they are happy about it

MANGA SPOILERS FOR THIS ONE: after the american colony joins the kingdom of science, you get depetrified and they are so glad, the k.o.s is surprised to see this new side of them

#stanxeno #stanley dr stone #xeno wingfield #xeno dr stone #xeno houston wingfield #stanley snyder #dr stone #dcst #drst

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i-wrote-sins-not-tragedies · 7 days ago

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Back in Austin - Chapter 5

relationship: dbf!joel x afab reader/you

words: 5.9k (oops)

warnings: see masterlist for fic tags

ao3

The party had wound down hours ago, but the smell of firework smoke and beer still clung to the air.

You were dragging a stack of chairs toward the garage when your dad wandered up with a beer, sighing like he’d just run a marathon. “No fights, no fires. I’m calling that a success.”

You smirked, wiping your hands on your dress. “Low bar, but sure.”

He grinned. “Gotta set it somewhere.”

Nearby, Karen, the next door neighbour who never missed an excuse to hover, was busy helping collect empty drink cans. Or rather, she was pretending to help. Most of her attention was on Joel, who was stacking chairs in a careful rhythm, the fabric of his t-shirt pulling tight over his arms, muscles flexing with every lift. Distractingly gorgeous. Unfairly so.

“You sure know how to throw a party,” Karen said to your dad, her tone syrupy as she turned to Joel with a bright smile. “And you… You’re such a help. Strong and handy.”

Joel gave a grunt of acknowledgment, barely looking at her. “Just stackin’ chairs.”

She laughed again. “Mmm, modest too.”

You looked down, hiding your smirk as you shook your head.

Your dad leaned in close enough for only you to hear. “She’s layin’ it on a bit thick, huh?”

“A bit?” you muttered.

He chuckled, watching the way she hovered near Joel’s elbow like a wasp looking for sugar. “Still… wouldn’t be the worst thing. Karen’s cousin just got divorced, but I think Karen’s eyeing Joel for herself.”

You blinked, your stomach flipping. “Seriously?”

Your dad shrugged. “Why not? He’s a good guy. Doesn’t get out much.”

You kept your face neutral, biting the inside of your cheek.

Joel moved past you then, brushing close enough that your fingers almost grazed. His eyes flicked to yours for half a second. Nothing more. But the knot in your stomach tightened anyway.

Eventually, your dad clapped his hands. “Alright, that’s enough, you two. Go home, both of ya. We’ll finish the rest.”

Karen placed a hand on his arm. “You sure? I don’t mind staying.”

“We’ve got it,” he said with a smile. “You’ve done plenty.”

Karen turned toward Joel with a lingering look. “Walk me out?”

He nodded stiffly. “Sure.”

You watched them go, Joel politely keeping pace with her down the driveway, Karen already chatting away like she had their whole life planned out.

You stayed behind, collecting the last few bottles and tossing them into a recycling bin. Your dad leaned against the edge of the porch, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Y’know,” he said after a moment, “I’m really glad you met Joel tonight.”

You turned slowly, heart stuttering. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “He’s been a good buddy these last few years. Checked in when you went off to college, invited me out when he could tell I was havin’ a rough time of it. I guess you don’t realise how quiet the house gets until you’re the only one left in it.”

Your throat tightened.

“He’s solid,” your dad continued. “The kind of guy who just… shows up. Don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”

You looked down at your hands, suddenly too warm.

He exhaled, folding the dish towel and tossing it over the porch rail. “Anyway. I’m beat. You should head home too, honey.”

You nodded, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah. Okay.”

He kissed your temple. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You walked back around to the driveway, chest hollow, the quiet finally settling over the neighborhood like a blanket.

You said goodbye like everything was fine.

Like your chest wasn’t cracking open with every word your dad had just said. Like you hadn’t just stood there and listened to him talk about Joel, how loyal he was, how good, with pride in his voice and a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

You walked slowly toward your car, the quiet of the street settling over you like fog. The cicadas buzzed in the trees.

Your steps slowed when you saw him.

Joel.

Leaning against his truck, parked just behind your car like he’d been waiting. His head was down, one boot absently nudging a loose rock along the ground. He wasn’t checking his phone. Wasn’t pretending to be busy. Just… standing there. Still and quiet.

You watched him for a moment.

Something shifted in your chest, twisting the knot of guilt into something warmer. Softer. He looked different in the hush of the streetlight. Not like the man who had pressed you against the bathroom counter hours ago. Not like the confident contractor your dad had just praised.

He looked almost nervous.

His hands were in his pockets. His jaw tight. His shoulders rigid like he was waiting for a verdict.

You smiled, just the smallest, tired curl of your lips, and walked toward him.

He looked up when he heard your steps.

His eyes found yours immediately, and for a second, neither of you said anything.

Then you stopped in front of him, voice low.

“So…”

Joel huffed a breath through his nose, almost a laugh but not quite. “Didn’t see that one comin’.”

You nodded slowly. “Me either.”

He looked down again, toeing the rock near his boot. “You okay?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Then finally, “No. Not really.”

His jaw ticked.

“My dad thinks the world of you,” you said, voice smaller now. “Said you kept him company while I was away. That you looked out for him.”

Joel glanced at you, expression unreadable. “He’s a good man.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah. He is.”

The weight of it all hung between you, too big for the quiet street, too sharp for the soft summer air.

Then Joel straightened up slightly, hand dragging through his hair.

“You wanna come back to my place?” he asked. “Talk this through?”

You nodded.

The drive to Joel’s house was short.

Uncomfortably short.

When Joel pulled into the driveway, the porch light lit the front of the house in a soft, forgiving glow. Like it could make everything inside feel safe.

You stepped through the door and froze.

It was beautiful. Quiet. Exactly what you’d imagined.

Dark wooden floors, walls painted in warm neutrals. A navy tiled kitchen, filled with clean lines and subtle touches that felt deliberate. The furniture was solid and real, not bought in a hurry. The kind of place someone built with their own hands, over time. Lived in. Comfortable. Joel.

And it made everything worse.

Because now you could see it, this life he’d built. The kind of man your father looked at and said, That’s the kind of person I trust.

You stood still while Joel locked the door behind you. He didn’t say anything. Neither did you.

“I’ll get you a drink,” he said after a beat.

“No.” You shook your head. “Let’s just… sit.”

You didn’t wait. You walked to the couch and sat at the edge, your spine rigid, hands curled in your lap. Joel followed and dropped onto the opposite cushion, but kept his distance.

“My dad said you were like a brother to him,” you said quietly.

Joel exhaled. “Yeah. He said that to me too.”

You nodded, looking down at your hands. “This is bad.”

“I know.”

“Really bad.”

He didn’t try to disagree. He just nodded again. The silence between you felt alive, twitching, hot, restless.

You swallowed hard.

“He trusts you, Joel. That means something to him.”

He didn’t say anything. But his silence said plenty.

You hesitated, then finally said it. “If he ever finds out, it won’t just be anger. It’ll be betrayal.”

Your voice cracked on the word.

“I love my dad,” you said. “I really do. But he’s been angry at the world ever since my mom died. That kind of anger, it doesn’t just go away. He’s worked hard to be better. To be normal. Sober, he’s gentle now. Kind. He jokes. He tries to be okay.”

Your voice thinned.

“But when he drinks? That version of him comes back. The one who punches holes in the drywall. Who throws plates across the room.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, jaw tight.

You shook your head, blinking hard. “I know what he’s capable of. And if he found out about us…”

Joel stayed quiet, but his gaze was locked on you.

You took a shaky breath. “He’d never forgive me. Or you. And everything we’ve rebuilt between us, the peace we finally have after so long, it would all fall apart.”

Joel’s voice was soft when it came. “So what are you sayin’?”

“I don’t know.”

You felt like a child saying it. Helpless. Small.

Another beat passed.

“You wanna stop?” he asked.

The words hit like a bruise. You looked up at him sharply, your chest hollowing.

“No,” you whispered. “Do you?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. His fingers tapped once against his knee. Then stilled.

“I’ve had relationships,” he said quietly. “Short ones. Long ones. Thought I’d seen it all, felt it all. But this… it’s different.”

Your heart twisted.

“I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since the bar,” he admitted. “And I tried to tell myself it was just sex. Something we could walk away from when it got messy.”

You stared at him.

“But I don’t wanna walk away.”

You exhaled slowly. “Even if it means hiding?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Even then.”

You looked at your hands, thumbs rubbing at your knuckles. “It’s only been a few weeks.”

“I know.”

“It’s probably stupid.”

“I know.”

“But it doesn’t feel stupid,” you said.

Joel’s voice softened, just enough to unravel something in you. “No. It doesn’t.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t empty.

It pulsed.

It breathed.

It felt like a choice being made in real time.

You drew in a breath. “Then we keep it quiet. We don’t tell anyone.”

Joel nodded. “We’ll be careful.”

You turned toward him, voice quieter now. “Promise me.”

He reached out, took your hand gently. “I promise.”

You felt the tension in your chest release, not all of it. But enough.

Joel shifted, opening an arm. “C’mere.”

You didn’t hesitate. You slid into the space beside him, curling into his chest, letting yourself rest in the familiar rhythm of his breathing. He held you tightly. Like he needed the contact just as badly as you did.

“This doesn’t feel wrong to me,” he said softly, lips brushing your hair.

You closed your eyes. “I know. That’s what scares me.”

He kissed your forehead.

And then your cheek.

And then, slowly, your lips.

You kissed him back, letting yourself sink into the moment, the quiet, the stillness, the deep and steady ache of it. His hands slipped into your hair as your lips moved over his, slow and steady, neither of you rushing this time. He tasted like the beer you never finished and something warmer beneath it, something like home.

You pulled back just enough to look at him.

His eyes searched yours. Dark and glassy.

“Come to bed,” he murmured.

You nodded.

His hand brushed your lower back as he guided you through the hallway. Joel’s bedroom was exactly what you expected, neat, practical. A bed with navy sheets. A heavy wooden dresser. A bedside lamp casting low amber light across the room.

You turned to face him, and he was already watching you.

His fingers found the hem of your dress, and you lifted your arms without a word as he pulled it up and over your head. He let it fall to the floor and stood back for a beat, his eyes raking over you like he needed to commit every inch to memory.

Then he stepped forward, and his hands found your hips.

“Lie down for me.”

You did, heart pounding, letting the bed take your weight.

Joel followed, crawling onto the mattress and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. Then another. Then another.

You gasped when his fingers hooked into your underwear and pulled them down slowly. He tossed them aside and settled between your legs, hands firm on your thighs, spreading you open with quiet reverence.

He didn’t dive in.

He looked at you first.

Like you were something to study. Something to savor.

And then he lowered his mouth and kissed your swollen clit, deep and unhurried, his tongue dragging through your lips in slow, wet strokes that made your whole body tense.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hips twitching up.

His voice was thick when he answered. “Been thinkin’ about this all damn day.”

He groaned softly against you, then flattened his tongue and licked up again, firmer this time. One hand held your thigh steady while the other came up to spread your pulsing lips open, his thumb resting just below at your entrance.

You arched into him, one hand twisting in the sheets, the other fisting in his hair.

He licked and sucked and kissed, all of it patient, focused. Like he had nowhere else to be.

“Joel,” you breathed.

He hummed in response, and the vibration sent a shockwave through your spine.

You felt yourself build too quickly, pressure winding tight and hot in your belly. But he didn’t stop. Not when your legs started to tremble. Not when you bucked against his face. He just held you tighter and kept going, tongue flicking over your clit, mouth dragging you to the edge.

You came with a cry, your thighs clamping around his head, hips rolling helplessly. He didn’t pull away. He stayed there through it, his mouth softening, slowing, coaxing you down.

When he finally looked up, his lips were wet, and his eyes were dark.

He kissed the inside of your thigh one more time, then moved up your body, slotting himself between your legs.

You were still shaking.

“You okay?” he murmured, mouth brushing your jaw.

You nodded, your breath stuttering. “Yeah.”

He kissed you softly, his tongue still tasting like you, and the intimacy of it made your stomach flip.

He pulled off his shirt. Then his jeans. Every motion slow, deliberate.

You watched him undress with your body still humming, the aftershocks of your orgasm warming your skin as you reached up for him again.

Joel settled over you, his cock bare and hard, and you gasped as he pressed inside your dripping pussy.

He looked down at you, his voice thick. “Tell me if you need to stop.”

“I won’t.”

He pushed inside, slow, so slow, filling you inch by inch, stretching you open with the kind of control that made your toes curl.

You whimpered, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, forehead resting against yours.

His hips moved in slow, dragging thrusts. Deep. Intentional. Each one felt like a confession. A question. A promise.

You clung to him, legs wrapping around his waist, your body curling into every rhythm he gave you. He kissed your throat. Your cheek. The corner of your mouth. His hands never stopped moving, your thigh, your waist, your face. Like he couldn’t choose where to hold you. Like he needed all of you at once.

It wasn’t frantic.

It wasn’t rushed.

It was worship.

“I’m not gonna last,” he whispered against your skin. “You feel too damn good.”

“Don’t stop,” you whispered. “Please, Joel. Don’t stop.”

His thrusts grew deeper, hips rocking into you as your bodies moved together, your moans catching in your throat as that coil built again, faster now, more urgent.

He brought his hand between you, fingers circling your clit with perfect pressure.

You cried out, back arching.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered. “Cum with me.”

You fell first, body shuddering, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open on a moan.

Joel followed, hips stuttering as he pressed deep and stayed there, groaning against your neck as his cock pulsed inside you.

You held him through it, arms tight around his shoulders.

When the last wave passed, he didn’t pull away.

He just pressed his face into your neck and stayed.

You woke to golden light slipping through the blinds, striping Joel’s sheets with soft, warm bands.

His arm was heavy around your waist. One of your legs was still tangled between his, skin to skin beneath the covers. You could hear his breathing, slow, even, and the occasional creak of the old house settling.

You didn’t move.

Not at first.

You just let yourself feel it. The heat of him. The safety of his bed. The ache between your thighs and the calm that came after being wanted like that.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there. Minutes. Maybe more. Until you finally rolled over slowly, chest to his side, and tucked your face into the space beneath his shoulder.

Joel stirred.

His arm tightened around you in a sleepy reflex. His mouth brushed your hair.

And then…

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

You froze.

Joel groaned quietly, still half asleep.

Your heart thudded.

You reached for the phone blindly, squinting at the screen.

Dad.

You jolted upright.

Joel murmured something, still groggy, his arm slipping off you as you scrambled to answer.

“H-Hey,” you said, breathless.

“Hey,” your dad’s voice crackled over the line. “Everything okay?”

You blinked, trying to scrub the sleep out of your voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Well, your car’s still out front. Just noticed it when I went out for coffee.”

Your stomach dropped. You glanced at the clock. Shit. It was almost nine.

Joel shifted in the bed beside you, voice thick, “Who you talkin’ to, baby?”

Your eyes went wide.

You whirled around and launched yourself on top of him, knees bracketing his hips, hand clamping over his mouth.

Joel blinked up at you, stunned and still half asleep, his eyes dragging down your naked body and back up to your very panicked face.

You gave him a death glare.

Then brought the phone back to your ear.

“Uh-sorry,” you said, trying to sound casual. “I got a ride home last night. One of your friends offered.”

There was a pause.

“What friend?”

You winced. Glanced down at Joel, whose eyes were now glittering with restrained amusement, one eyebrow raised beneath your palm.

“I think… Joel?” you offered, voice light.

Another pause. You could practically hear your dad thinking.

“Well, that was nice of him,” he said. “Next time just shoot me a message, yeah? I thought maybe something happened.”

“Yeah. I will. Sorry.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later, honey.”

“Bye.”

You hung up and immediately threw your phone facedown on the bed.

Joel was grinning now, smug as hell beneath your hand.

You glared down at him. “You are such a menace.

He lifted his brows, voice muffled against your palm. “I was just sayin’ good morning.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You almost ruined everything.”

He grabbed your hips suddenly, making you squeal, and rolled you onto your back. The sheet twisted around your body as he hovered over you, hair messy, grin wide.

“Did I?” he murmured, eyes dragging slowly over you.

You were still naked, legs tangled around his, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

“You’re dangerous,” you said, breathless.

He lowered his mouth to your neck, voice low. “Mm. You keep sayin’ that.”

His hips shifted, rolling once, slow and deliberate, against yours, and the spark of him lit your whole body up.

“Joel,” you warned, catching your breath. “We need to be more careful.”

He turned his head, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We will be.”

But his hands were already sliding down your sides, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer beneath him.

“You still stressed?” he asked, eyes full of mischief.

You tried to glare. It didn’t land.

His mouth found yours before you could answer, and just like that, the panic disappeared.

Replaced by heat. By him. Again

His tongue slipped into your mouth, slow and sure, as the sheet bunched higher around your hips. You didn’t stop him.

Couldn’t.

The phone call. Your car at your dad’s. All of it faded to the edges of your mind.

Because this, him, was already worth the risk.

Already worth everything.

39 notes · View notes

midnight1nk · 8 months ago

Text

So, WOTFI 2024...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm so excited! Got my bingo card ready and my popcorn, we gotta manifest good things here.

(the following is my live reaction:)

3... 2... 1... HAPPY NEW YEAR Oh wait, wrong thing oops

happy to be here, Leggy (WE'LL SAVE YOU GUYS DON'T WORRY)

TENDER TUNNEL?! ...oh nevermind then. it's so over guys

OH Four, Mario!

this would've been such a Mar4 moment if it was still the Tender Tunnel cuz this reminds me a lot of the SMG34 tiktok kiss challenge

...wait is that... OMG IT'S TV TIME ARRANGEMENT OMG LET'S GOOOOOOOO marking this on the bingo card

the FNAF models....

"...a portrayal of my life." YES PLEASE give us more

the fact that Puzzles made a puppet of his child self just for this reenactment (i don't think he's ok guys)

oop, Leggy don't drop the child!

"Papa" gives so many flashbacks to other characters who call their abusive father "papa" (me, an Ace Attorney fan)

hold up, I need to talk about this for a bit. I know it may seem like random graffiti, but because it has gears and such, his future might've been set in stone. To become TV.

"I locked myself in my room and watched TV all day!" and no one checked up on him? Did he stay in that room all the way to adulthood?! Okay, the SMG4 universe has a different way of how time and body necessities work. But hunger and time are still things. The implications are kinda of messed up if you think about it: Mr Puzzles stayed in his room for YEARS without food or even sleep, watching everything on TV. He would've been a CORPSE by adulthood. No wonder Mr Puzzles has a thin waist.

"And the rest is history." No, Puzzles, you can leave us like this! I need more! What happened after he cut off his head, did he replace every limb of himself? What happened to his dad?

Well, we got more of his backstory ig, marking that for the bingo card

WOAH I knew Mr Puzzles swore before but DAMN

I might have to mark "Grudge against Four" box but we'll see

NEW OUTFITS OMG THAT GETS A MARKER

"We'll just have to go along with his twisted games for now." Hell yeah, you gotta be part of WOTFI, boys :)

AY SPECTACULAR TITLE CARD, LOVE THE ART

Blast-off Fire

this reminds me of Toy Story for some reason

C'mon guys, you can do it!

What's your idea, Mario? NO FOUR let him talk

WOW I LOVE [*ragdolls*]

OH IT WORKED

Insult-2-Dunk

OH the frame of what the challenge says has the 5 stars, I'm going to mark that

This is giving the hallway scene in IGBP, where Four has his thoughts on display

Yeah I'm going to count that as an IGBP reference

they really are boyfriends 💙💜 gay people do be sitting

really tempted to mark the "You Saved Me" box but I'll wait

That's... actually sad if all the negative thoughts SMG4 had in IGBP came from the YT comments. Not surprising but it makes sense why he would try to keep everyone happy.

"This is nothing." OH THAT'S EVEN WORSE SOMEHOW, SMG4. THE AUDIENCE IS ONE THING BUT KAREN, A CLOSE FRIEND, TOLD YOU TO KYS

idk I could just imagine Four saying a lot of horrible things to himself

DAMN MARIO

but also Four's been flirting with Three, you already know that Mario /hj

Slap Box

TARI WE'RE SORRY BUT WE HAVE TO SAVE YOU GUYS

well you did get a bit of karma for what you said earlier to Four, sorry Mario

HOLY SHIT YOU KILLED HER DUDE oop Four said it for me nvm

Ferris Wheel Frenzy

I got jump scared and thought it was my minigame lmao

"Survive"? OH, are they going to get stuck on the Wheel ride?

please 34 please 34 nooooooooooo fuck

Missed opportunity man, still pretty funny

Fire Bonanza

Wow, Bob, that trick was pretty good ngl

Did somebody say arson? :)

even I'm clapping!

Marware shippers, how are y'all feeling?

Tightrope Terror

OH just like in the trailer, right?

OOH THREE VS FOUR

...yeah, Three would win, I'm not even surprised

That's so sweet, like actually

This feels familiar... oh that's right

Hey, I did say "love wins, love always wins"

And that didn't work for Leggy... but it worked on Four back then so that's nice :)

Sword Showdown

poster reference!

Can Mario even defeat Bob? and also, reference to the poster?

Oh shit Mario did the Sephiroth shot from the Smash announcement

Knife Throw

boyfriends throwing knives :)

also poster reference

"...avoid hitting our volunteers" IS IT THREE?! oh no it's just Boopkins and Tari

I WANTED A "YOU SAVED ME" MOMENT NOOOO

....blindfolded?!

FOUR DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIS FRIENDS

So uh yeah definitely a grudge

Four, that's Gmod. THIS IS NOT THE SAME

Three's the one throwing the knives at Tari right? ...yep *sigh /aff*

Balloon Blast

*looks at Luigi's creations* ....say what now?

"Supper Mario Balloon" I... shouldn't be surprised

He kinda looks like Pedro ngl

Pie-a-Ton

HI KAREN

NOOOO MARIO'S FIRST LOVE *prowler music*

...wait, "Mario Die"? OH well, the universe is doomed lol

Touch Grass

alright then *goes outside and touches grass* we did guys!

Clowns Clowns Everywhere

Puzzles, Four has boots on and Bob has no shoes at all. Does it look like we have time to put running shoes on?

ACE ATTORNEY? IN MY SMG4 WOTFI? :D

"King of Clowns" PFFT That never gets old

What did you expect Four? You make memes for a living, become the clown

Bomb Ski Ball

What type of SAW trap is this?

OH RIGHT Karen is still a cat

Yeah Mario, you celebrated too early

Ducky Mania

poster reference(???)

Well, thanks Luigi, we're dead

BELLS (ok, it might not count cuz they used this before)

YAY FOUR GOT ONE

Free-Fall Frenzy

And of course, Three and Karen and Saiko are all using the things they are skilled at

OH SHOOT MELONY'S SWORD

GO ON MARIO DO YOUR THING! MEGGY'S BACK!! IT WORKED

NO PUZZLES WHYYYYY

Whack a Leggy

Oh I love that Mario screen reference

SWORD FIGHT SWORD FIGHT SWORD FIGHT

...goop!4..?

oh nvm, cameras. that should've been obvious *slaps face*

SMART THINKING FOUR

OH hi Puzzles

LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

DUDE I'M GONNA CRY STOPP THIS IS SO SWEET OMG

"YOU'RE RUINING EVERYTHING", welp Mario Ruins the Show confirmed, checking that off

I just love how this scene was animated (edit: it turns out that this is a scene Anaidon animated, no wonder this was so good!)

THE KEYBOARD MONSTER FROM IGBP!!! IT'S BACKKKKK

AND EYES IN GENERAL

Marker for the bingo :)

AND PARK (kinda) DESTROYED, another mark (yes it counts)

Superhero landing!

Wait... what is it, Four?

...oh I hate this *IGBP flashbacks*

AND PEACH nooooooooo

I get that it's supposed to be Didney stuff but like that's past trauma right there for Four , seeing the castle and Peach costume again *checks off the bingo*

and we're seeing it through Four's right eye *head in hands* eye of horus

It's Rap Time? IT'S RAP TIME

Carnival-themed too! Another one for bingo

"Pay for what you've done" KARMA "We'll make him pay" KARMA

(edit: it turns out Shadow animated this scene, it looks great dude great job :D)

[*points at background at 22:31*] BELL THERE IT FUCKIN IS

MORE BELLS AT 22:55

and also I realized that there was a lot of "death", huh

Doomed Yaoi(TM)

Yeah, we can count this as the Freak Show

"Puzzlevision+" ...puzzlevision 2...?

hold up, what the hell is that? NO NO WE CAN'T JUST PASS BY THAT

Huh, how interesting is that Mr Puzzles, being controlled by wires, looks like a puppet when he's the only usually puppeteering hmmm

MEGGY CONFRONTS also she tried to give Puzzles a chance when she couldn't do it for Wren

"That child is gone... Six feet under right where you and your stupid friends belong." Oh, shit. That got me somehow.

There is something in philosophy called "Ship of Theseus" that basically is: what if, gradually over time, we replace every part of a person and the question would be, are they the same person anymore. It could apply to Mr Puzzles here. Bring back to my corpse question, his child self and his current self are not the same. Not anymore. Metaphorically and perhaps literally, the real man before Mr Puzzles came to be is already dead.

Some people do say that they can be "reborn" so.... *shrugs*

SACRIFICE! No one dies but they're risking their lives here!

Meggy going into Puzzles' mind reminds me a lot of Melony getting into Zero's, except for the meeting younger self stuff

Interesting, why did Little Puzzles cower from the woman shadow figure? They could've just put Meggy there but they didn't until a few seconds later... hmmm......

Well Meggy confronts Little Puzzles but it's more like her demanding him to set her friends free, which is understandable

THE CLUB PENGUIN DANCE IS BACK!! :D

ONCE AGAIN Little Puzzles gets scared of someone coming towards him. jesus what happened for you to react like that, dude?

THIS IS ACTUALLY MAKING ME FEEL THINGS DUDE. IF MR PUZZLES DIES AND THIS IS THE LAST THING HE THINKS ABOUT.... *head in hands* THIS IS SO SAD

And more of the Engine Room gets broken down

silly little goobers :)

MR PUZZLES LIVES

and I oop [Mr Puzzles will remember that.]

....oh, this might be a fate worse than death. I don't blame the Crew for not trusting him and after what he did to Meggy but damn I don't think this is the right choice, gang

But it is probably the best ending the Team could've given him.

Yes, painting is nice. Oh, a puppy too!

"...OR we could assassinate our enemies and anyone who's ever double-crossed us!" OH NO IT'S MAKING HIM WORSE

To destroy Four and the others, yeah that makes sense. But he must've taken Meggy's confrontation as a double-cross. He's going for everyone!

Dynamic Change, everyone!

but also.... puzzlevision 2 maybe....

OH HEY CHRIS AND SWAG HI

well, the park isn't completely destroyed but some of it did so....

"Hopefully Mr Puzzles will change for the better." HMMMM I don't think so, Meggy. Actually, are they aware of where he is now?

Aw, Mario checking up on Meggy is very sweet, the M&M siblings

YOU ALL NEED THERAPY

"Turning into Leggy was really taxing on my body but...I think that version of me has escaped off to a better place." Meggy, you must've inherited Phoenix Wright's invincibility when you were a lawyer because you were literally SCREAMING IN PAIN when you were forced back into Leggy, and all you get is just a bit of a sore back?! Girl, you must've broken something. I do hope they bring this back so that she can't do sudden maneuvers or fancy tricks due to what happened to her. There has to be some consequences here.

And now, Leggy's not coming back (I'm sure that's great news for the people who find her annoying, not me tho)

and I oop 2: electric bagaloo

MORE RIDES FOR THE SHOWGROUNDS HELL YEAH

Happy ending and all but hold up... Why is this the last shot of WOTFI? They could've had the Ferris Wheel, the entrance, or any of the other rides. WHY?! *shakes the crew* ANSWER MEEEEE

Well we didn't get a challenge relating to Tender Tunnel but since it appeared in the final shot, I'll count it just for appearing (and also because it might be important later but we don't talk about that now)

Of course, MERCH

"And, who knows? Next year, there might be even more things to come..." WHEN I GET YOU

Hoodie, poster, keychain I CALLED IT

baby leggy :3

"You'll just have to wait and see." Oh I'll be waiting *wiggles fingers together like a cartoon villain*

the great milk heist of 1899 :)

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Here's my bingo card:

I think it's all of it, let me know if I miss or need to change anything. Can we count all the Four & Three soulmate parallels to the "You Save Me" box? Please? *sneaks a marker on there* To those who participated, I hope you guys had fun with my bingo card!

I'm still going to cherish that Ferris Wheel chase scene from the "Welcome to Puzzle Park" episode

Well, Ben, Shadow, you got anything to say?

Ben: Well that was fun We should really do this again sometime…

GOD DAMMIT BEN NOT AGAIN/affectionate

Shadow, in voice clip: "Hello once more, Twitter and SMG4 community! As always, I'm The Inverted Shadow and yeah, War of the Fat Italians 2024 has come and gone... and uh, as it is customary with a lot of these big events with SMG4, I have things to say but this time, I'm actually not going to make a big show out of it this time like what I did for Puzzlevision and..." *clear throat* "The things that came before because I'm going to be completely honest, guys, I was really fucking nervous for this one because, um, to be completely honest, this rap battle for this WOTFI is, I can safely say, one of the hardest things I had to do when animating for SMG4 thus far. And I was really really scared and nervous about (one) if it would actually come out good and (two) if people would actually like it. But just based on the reactions from the watch party with the SMG4 team and also just seeing everybody's reactions to WOTFI this year, um.... Yeah, you guys surely showed me I still must be doing something right." *laugh* "But, no no no. In all honesty, once more, thank you all genuinely. Genuinely, thank you all once again to the SMG4 community, to Luke, to Kevin, the SMG4 team. Everybody. Thank you all so much for showing me that I apparently still got it and I can still do the thing as it were." *chuckle* "Um, I do really hope you all enjoyed WOTFI this year. For now, I need to go get me that new Mr Puzzles plushie 'cause I need it. So, genuinely thank you all again and uh, peace!

Oh, we enjoyed this year's WOTFI, SMG4 Team! As Mario would say, that was-a loads of fun! The animation, the art, the music, everything was really really good. There are a few plot tweaks here and there that need a bit of work, but otherwise, it was great! Props to everyone on the Team! I can't wait to see what you guys do next.

"Silly little meme show" Right, and it's the same people who gave us horror, I'm on to you guys. please puzzlevision 2 please goop!4

Make sure you all support them bc they deserve it :) As for what will happen to the SMG4 crew, Mr Puzzles, and the Showgrounds, we will just have to wait and see.

;)

ink, it's not even a theory what are you talking about?

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huntingingoodwill · 1 year ago

Text

love is a losing game (j.p.)

masterlist

pairing: jealous! dark! sugardaddyish! javier pena x speakeasy singer! femme fatale! reader

desc: javi meets you, a singer at a speakeasy he’s working undercover at. he becomes consumed by your world of late nights, music, and your callous, cruel love.

a/n: yippee!!! long time in the making but so excited!!!!! reader became a lil evil and they lowkey manipulation olympics each other hehe. also spot the oscar isaac reference oop!! please consider reblogging if you enjoy MWAH!

A whirling spotlight. The low hum of your voice, rumbling through his body like an aftershock. The music, cresting like a wave - high, high, high, but bound to crash.

Javi’s jaw slackened as the moth-eaten velvet curtain stuttered upward, revealing your figure inch by inch. Every glimpse of your skin, tinted iridescent from the spotlight, couldn’t come fast enough.

As it lifted past your eyes like a veil, your fiery gaze set his world ablaze. He should have never accepted this assignment. He was done for.

“You’re done for,” Blue laughed, slapping his cards down on the table.

Javi reluctantly tore his eyes away from you. He looked down at the game before him. He’d lost.

His gaze flickered back towards you, his blown out eyes pricking with tears, stinging as if he were staring straight into the sun. You were so bright.

Blue threw a glance over his shoulder to where you stood onstage, a wolffish smile twisting through his lips.

“Like what you see?”

His smile, like everything else about him, had a sinister edge. Javi would have never hung around the guy if he wasn’t undercover, trying to wheedle information from him.

Blue was the owner of the dingy speakeasy that was a frequent hotspot for the cartel, and right now, he was reading Javi like a book.

Blue smirked. “I’ll take you backstage after the show.”

The corridor seemed to stretch on for miles, before ending in an unassuming door, cracked to reveal a warm, golden light, the husky crackling of an old jazz singer scratching its voice out on a turntable, and your voice, thick and sweet as honey, flowing over it.

Blue knocked. “You decent?”

“Hardly ever.” It nearly knocked Javi over, that voice, the sardonic lilt that revealed your smile to him.

Blue grinned back at him before pulling open the door.

“Who’s your little friend?” Your gaze seemed to sear his skin as you cast your appraising gaze upon him, a smile pulling at your lips. That smile set a pang in his heart. He liked you so much, it hurt.

Javi had to stop himself from revealing his real name in front of Blue, trying to find the breath to breathe out his alias as he shook your hand, the nerves in his fingers firing, your touch electric.

“You were great up there today.” Javi muttered, throat dry as he accepted a cigarette from Blue.

“If you liked it,” you said, striking a match and holding it up to his trembling cigarette, “you should come around and see me another time,” the flame reflected in your eyes, setting them alight. “I know I’d like to see you.”

“You’re darling, you know. Simply darling. Who taught you to be such a darling, hm?” You purred, the overly saccharine words falling flat as you grabbed the bouquet from his hands, tossing it onto your dressing table absentmindedly.

He didn’t mind. The way you brushed your lips against his cheek and the heat of your embrace as you wrapped your arms around him made up for the lack of warmth in your words.

“Now, buy me a drink, won’t you? Oh, and some gum. Bubble, not chewing.” His body instantly missed the presence of yours in its arms as you flounced over to your vanity, placing a record on your turntable. Your eyes lit up as a voice crackled to life from the speakers, in a way he wished they would when they saw him.

He grabbed the cash he needed out of his wallet and tossed it onto your vanity before leaving your dressing room, heading out into the rowdy bar. He’d been there almost every night, and every afternoon, as soon as he could cut out from the office.

It wasn’t about the assignment anymore.

You rose in the late afternoon, when the molten sun shone right onto the sunken mattress that sat in the corner of your dressing room. He loved when you were teetering on the edge of consciousness, body emanating heat next to his under the covers, a secret vulnerability still visible across your face that hardened when you were awake. He always tried to reach your dressing room before that moment, where you’d be liable to smile at him through bleary eyes, and bury your face in the crook of his arm to mumble, “This damned sun. Why can’t we just lie here forever, hm?”

He missed that time today in favour of buying you a bouquet, only for you to toss it aside to get ready for your act.

He opened your door, drink in hand, to find you rummaging through his wallet as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“D’you mind, honey?” You said, barely glancing his way as you picked out some bills from his wallet, “That asshole,” you said, jutting your chin toward Blue’s office, “is increasing my rent. I already live in his hovel, his stupid friends never tip, and he’s still draining me of cash, presumably to buy one of his pretentious suits.” You grumbled.

Javi placed the drink next to you, the glass already sweating, tossing the bubblegum next to it. “Go ahead.”

You smiled at him with adoration, a gaze that melted him completely. “You’re a lamb.” You nuzzled yourself into his side, which was enough for him to ignore as you pocketed some extra money for yourself.

You detached yourself from him too quickly, smacking on a piece of gum as you returned to getting ready. Javi slid his wallet back into his pocket, sinking to the floor to watch you as you fussed with your appearance in the mirror. He loved watching you.

Your busy actions soon slowed, and you stopped completely, eyes flickering from your reflection to the record player that spun endlessly next to you, a contemplative sadness in your eye.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Javi muttered.

He wished he could live in your mind, traverse the secret plains and valleys of it.

You held out your hand, looking at him expectantly.

He reached into his pocket and fished around for a coin, placing it in your hand and watching your eyes fill with the warmth that he craved.

You sank to the floor next to him, taking his bouquet with you as you lay on the carpet next to him.

You plucked a flower from the bunch, twisting the stem in between your hands before methodically beginning to pluck the petals, one by one.

“The music got me thinking.”

“What about?”

“About how much I wish I was her. Had her talent.” You pulled the sleeve from the drawer, eyeing the album cover, a smokey eyed siren with her hair piled atop her head. “Her voice is like air when you’re underwater. She’s the only one who’s got my back in this world.” You sighed.

“You have me.” Desperation broiled in the pit of his stomach.

You snorted, plucking another petal and crushing it between your fingers. “You say that to all your girls.”

“Don’t have any other girls.” This would have been a big, fat lie, in any other circumstance.

But since he’d met you, it had been tunnel vision. The rest of them had all fallen away.

“Don’t lie. I hate liars.” You scoffed, derision curling your lip.”

“I’m not-“

“He loves me not…” you mumbled, plucking the last petals off the flower, “he loves me.”

“I do.” Javi whispered, feeling as if he had opened his chest and gladly served you his heart on a platter.

You twirled the stalk in your hand, the bud sitting naked atop of it, smirking as if he had just told you a joke.

“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.” You pulled your robe aside, exposing the skin that stretched over your collarbone, darkened with a love bite. “You’re a brute, you know. I have no idea what to wear tonight. Nothing I own covers it. I practically need a whole new wardrobe.” You sighed, nuzzling up to his side. “If only I had a fur. I’d feel like royalty.”

“You shouldn’t have.” You grinned as your eyes flickered toward the price tag attached to the coat. Javi thought he could see the almost imperceptible difference in your smile. Not quite gratefulness, but as if you were laughing at a joke. “You really shouldn’t have, darling.” You held the coat up to your body admiring the luxurious, thick pelt.

“Anything for you, baby.” He felt his heart squeeze.

“Anything?” Your eyes lit up, as he moved to slide the coat over your arms and shoulders, wrapping yourself in the monstrously ostentatious coat.

“Anything.” He muttered.

You moved to the floor, lying on your side as you held the coat open, inviting him to join you, wrapped tightly around each other beneath the pelt.

“Come here. I’m cold.” You grinned.

Even with nothing on beneath the fur, your skin glittered with pricks of sweat under the scorching spotlight. You were the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen.

After the show, you slid into the booth he’d perched at to admire you and lose a couple games of poker.

“Quite a coat you’ve got.” Blue mumbled around his stinking cigarette.

“A gift from our little friend here.” Your hand skimmed the side of Javi’s arm as he feigned cool by looking at his cards, the numbers and symbols swimming before his eyes.

“Farewell present?” Blue asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Farewell?” Javi’s fingers tightened around the cards, the waxy surface creasing beneath his grip.

“I must have forgotten to mention it.” You said, a veneer of nonchalance settling over your lie. “I’m thinking of going on tour. Ed, our pianist, talked me into it. I mean, all the real artists I love have done it.”

Javi felt his heart plummet, far, far, down.

“Maybe Europe, or Asia. Ed’s a real intellectual. He studied at a conservatory, knows all about music, travel, culture-“

“Music, travel and culture.” Javi muttered, voice dangerously low as he stared at his cards, enough to burn holes through them. “That’s enough to chase him around the world?” Javi felt the hurt rumbling through his body like the tremors of an earthquake.

“Chase?” He was already wounded by your tone, the smile falling off your face as you spoke the words. “Like that way you do to me? Don’t worry. I still have some dignity left.”

“And I don’t?”

You smiled viciously. “Let’s just say you wouldn’t recognise intellectuality if it hit you over the head.”

His anger teemed, bubbling in the pit of his stomach and boiling over, heat blooming across his chest.

“I forbid you to go with him.” Javi hissed, hand wrapping tight around your forearm.

The look you gave him almost made him wither right then and there.

“It should take you four seconds to walk from here to the door.” You said, voice almost menacingly steady. “I’ll give you two.”

He couldn’t sleep anymore.

Everytime he closed his eyes, your vision seemed to flicker behind them, your voice waking him in the middle of the night.

He’d taken up with an old fling, Carina, whose presence did little to distract himself from you, and was more effective in irritating him with her utter adoration for him.

He was mad with jealousy, envious of the respect you accorded Ed, that you had never given to him. Still, he felt tethered to you, his body dragging itself to the speakeasy, Carina in tow, a desperate attempt to make you feel an iota of the pain he felt.

He knew it was a mistake when you breezed past him, gaze smouldering. “Hello, stranger.” Your eyes flickered towards Carina, lip curling into a smile, her presence the funniest joke in the world. “Hello, beautiful.” You smirked, before slinking away, leaving Javi to watch hopelessly as your back receded into the crowd, a hollow opening in his stomach.

“Who’s that?” Carina whispered, tugging on his arm.

“No one. I’ll get you a drink.” Javi grumbled.

“Stay away, okay?” Carina mumbled, gesturing towards you. “I have a bad feeling.”

He nodded, heading toward the bar. He had just finished shouting his order over the din when he felt a pair of eyes trace over the lines of his body. He saw you, standing in the corridor, obscured from the rest of the crowd. Waiting expectantly for him to fall into your trap.

“‘No other girls’, huh?” You muttered, picking at your nails with a wounded tone that made his heart soar. You cared.

He stepped into the corridor.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, reaching for your hands, the feeling of your hot touch sending a wave of relief rushing over him. “She means nothing. Forgive me.”

You wrapped your arms around him, curling into his body. Your scent was intoxicating.

“I missed you. I want you all to myself.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry. I’ll end it with her, I promise.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, hand finding purchase in his hair as you ran your fingers through it. Too soon, you tightened a fist around his hair to pull him away, his scalp tingling with a dull ache.

“Does this mean you won’t leave?” He asked, voice soaring with hope.

“Oh, darling.” You sighed, fingers raking through his hair affectionately. “Don’t be stupid.”

He stumbled out of the darkened corridor, squinting into the light of the bar, resisting looking at your darkened silhouette.

He’d get back at you. He’d make you jealous, make you want him as much as he wanted you.

The band played in a roaring crescendo as you stepped on stage, and he made sure to pull Carina close within your line of view. You sang without a care in the world.

As your act drew to a close, he made a last ditch effort to spark envy within you, pulling in Carina for a kiss. She responded eagerly, hand reaching to cup the back of his head, until her motions stilled.

“What’s that in your hair?”

A tiny wad of flesh pink bubble gum, stuck on the back of his head.

“Who put that there?” She whispered, already knowing.

The set came to a halt, the room dissolving into applause as Carina’s face shattered. She watched as you descended the stage, smacking loudly, performatively, on sickly sweet bubblegum, blowing a glistening bubble that exploded with an almost deafening pop as you walked between them.

A smirk played on your face as you bumped into Carina’s side, forcing her to move out of the way to allow you to pass, her eyes filling with hatred.

“Sorry, honey.” You uttered, not feeling sorry at all. “Hope you two enjoyed the show.”

Carina had left him. He thought he might have cared, but he didn’t. The space she had left in his life filled with you, his burning desire, his desperation for you to stay.

He’d push, and push, and push, until he pushed his way into your arms.

Ed was identified by the DEA as a person of interest when Javi planned the raid.

Leaning against his car across the street, nursing a smouldering cigarette, Javi watched through a sheen of smoke as Blue and the club regulars were hauled out of the building.

Your voice thundered, swearing like a sailor as they dragged you out, kicking and screaming. He had always liked that about you. Your feist.

“Let her go.” He ordered, his men loosening their grip on your arms. Your eyes darted about, a caged animal looking for an exit, until they zeroed in on Javi.

“You.” You growled, understanding flashing through your eyes before a cold sheen of fury fell across them. “You bastard!” You reached to shove him out of the way, but he intercepted your arm, forcing you against the wall.

You seethed as he held you to the brick, the rough surface pricking through your clothes. “I’ll kill you.” You reared against him like a feral animal, trying to fight your way out of his grasp.

“I’d let you,” growled Javi, “But you wouldn’t. Not when you only have me left. Where’s your intellectual now, hm?”

Your eyes widened, and you swiveled to watch as Ed was dragged out of the building. He fought hard against the men, but they didn’t respond as kindly as they did to you.

Screaming, you watched as one of them slammed a fist into Ed’s jaw, the other pinning him down as a crimson spray of blood flew through the air.

You fought hard to get to him, but your motions slowed, eyes glazing over as you mimicked Ed’s disillusionment, his exhausted form lying on the pavement.

You looked into Javi’s eyes, and he could detect that vulnerability that he had craved, the strength you had ebbing away to reveal that raw, soft centre he had always wanted to find.

A waft of hot air blew between the both of you, and you looked across the street to see the speakeasy alight, the tall orange flames that sprouted from its windows licking the dark night sky.

Blue’s desperate attempt to be rid of any incriminating evidence.

Slowly, as he held you against the wall, you stilled, too exhausted to fight anymore, or even to stand. You leaned into him, holding yourself up against his body.

He snaked his arm around your waist, holding you tight as the fire glazed over your eyes, a mosaic of colour blooming around you as the orange flames mixed with the red and blue lights of the fire truck.

After the chaos, the air smelling of ash and damp, Javi followed you into the building, silence hanging in the air as thick as smoke. You walked slowly into your dressing room, glancing around the rubble, your pupils as blown and black as the ashy remains of your home.

You reached your record collection, searching through the album sleeves before picking up one in particular.

The dark haired siren’s face was charred, her mysterious eyes nothing more than crumbling dust that blackened your fingers. The record had warped, her once perfect pitch now an off key warble.

You dropped the album to the ground, looking upon the only one who had your back in this world.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” Javi whispered, holding out his hand.

You slowly placed your hand in his, your fingers cold where they used to be so hot, he thought his palm would meld into yours.

Shutting the car door, he pulled you into his chest, chin resting atop your head as he ran his fingers through your hair.

He felt the hot wetness of tears bloom across his chest as your back shuddered beneath his hand.

“I hate you.” You whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I know.”

“I’ll never love you.”

“I have enough love for the both of us.”

“Take me home.”

So he did.

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