#that record is everything i love it so immensely

[itsbuckytm]

Love at first Sight / Steve Harrington x Winchester!Sister

Summary: The reader, as the younger sister of the Winchesters, moves to Hawkins to investigate a hunt after losing contact with their father, John. Unbeknownst to them, Hawkins harbors dark secrets, particularly when a certain boy rescues them from the monsters.

ps: This is my longest story to date, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it just as much! Since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any minor grammar errors.

word count; 6ks.

tag list ; @figurantedefilme

“Father, hasn’t come back.” 

Dean’s words reiterate in your mind as you sat in the passenger seat. Sam, your twin, understood the potential consequences of bringing you along. You vividly recalled his argument about the test you had the next morning, how he had done everything possible to support your decision not to get involved. The thought of dragging their little sister, on the brink of graduating high school, into family matters made him troubled. "And where exactly is the location?" he asked, struggling to conceal his irritation while casting worried glances in your direction. 

Dean understood he had no alternative. If given the opportunity, there was no doubt he would have ventured alone. However, giving John's unequivocal instructions left no room for debate on the matter. When family, particularly your father, was concerned, it was imperative for everyone to participate, regardless of their preferences. Dean's grasp on the steering wheel tightened as he disclosed the destination you were bound for.

 “Hawkins.” 

Hawkins was nothing like Kansas. After an eight-hour drive with multiple stops, your brothers took turns at the wheel. For once, you all agreed that your father should be immensely grateful when you finally rescued him, especially given the uncertainty about where to start. It wasn't until you checked into a motel near Hawkins that the research on the haunting began in earnest.

Dean had gone to buy some food while Sam and you continued your search. The sun had set, giving way to the shimmering stars of the night. One of the things you couldn't help but admire about Hawkins was the luminous presence of its own scenery. You were stargazing from your motel window when you heard the door creak open and Sam's voice, poised to relay any information about your father's whereabouts. But it was Dean who spoke first, interrupting Sam's rambling about anything he could find useful. "So, you're telling me there are no official records, just a stupid student article about the incident that happened, what, a year ago? When it all started with a boy going missing?"

"Maybe we should ask for the chief," you suggested, recalling the man around your father's age whom your brothers had seen at the gas station an hour earlier. One who could definitely be a source of information. However, your brothers dismissed the notion, unwilling to involve others. "No, no, no," Dean said, pulling food from the plastic bag and placing it on the table. Sam, still engrossed in his laptop, grabbed the first item his hand found. "The one thing we definitely can't do is involve the cops, especially the sheriff."

And he was right, much as you hated to admit it. Dealing with the cops had never been your brother's strongest suits. Recalling numerous numerous arrests, all tied to their hunting activities, with your father or Bobby often being the one to bail them out.

"I think I found something," Sam said, capturing your attention. Dean snatching the laptop from him, causing Sam to roll his eyes and start munching on his sandwich. "Demogorgon, really?" Dean said, almost offended by the article. What struck him, though, was how off the situation felt with the missing boy and the lab in Hawkins.

"I don't know, man. Don't look at me like that. Just read further," Sam insisted as Dean tried to process the information. Despite their extensive hunting experience, from Wendigo's to the King of Hell, Dean was on the verge of dismissing the student article entirely. This seemed like a stretch even for them.

"And you're telling me Dad went missing because of a half-man, half-creature that feeds on human powers?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam chuckled at his brother's disbelief and nodded. "That's what the article says," he confirmed, though Dean remained unconvinced. He needed more evidence, which meant by morning they will have to start questioning anyone around Hawkins. "Tomorrow, first thing. If the rumors are true, and as much as I hate to admit. Dad might be the creature's next snack anytime soon."

The next morning in Hawkins, you and your brothers headed to the nearest diner. Unlike other places you'd visited, Hawkins had a surprising calmness to it. You were particularly excited to visit the DVD store that had caught your eye, likely the only other place of interest besides the arcade. You always made a point to bring something back from each mission—a habit your brothers found odd yet endearing.

"Please," you begged Dean as the three of you walked into the diner. He rolled his eyes as you all sat down and ordered the usual breakfast: two coffees and an orange juice for you. "What do you even need at a DVD store?" he asked. "Maybe it could also be a good excuse for you and Sam to investigate," you replied with a hint of amusement. Your brothers exchanged a glance and thanked the waitress as she brought the food. "She isn't wrong, you know," Sam agreed, seeing the potential in the idea. "And if it makes Y/N feel at home..." 

"Fine," Dean finally conceded with a sigh. "But after that, we're heading to the trailer park." He insisted, knowing it was one of the areas where the creature had reportedly lingered and the last place your father was apparently seen.

"Robin, I told you, the last time I flirted with a woman, I couldn't even avoid making her cringe," Steve sighed as he brought the DVD tray to restock returns. Behind the counter, Robin mentally tallied her best friend's countless failures, a smile playing on her lips. “I call dibs on the next client.” As she noticed three silhouettes entering the store, her attention shifted entirely to them. "Welcome!" she greeted them, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear whether she enjoyed her job or not. "May I help you?"

Your brother wore an expression of determination. Sam, ever the polite one, smiled first and quickly refocused on their primary mission: finding your father. "We just need a few pieces of information," he said, presenting their fake FBI cards. You leaned forward, peeking between your brothers. Immediately catching Steve's attention. Outside, Max and Billy, being new in town, added to the unusual sight of newcomers, especially at this time of year. Steve couldn't help but admire this in awe. "I'll go look for a souvenir. Don't wait for me," you said, glancing at them one last time before heading off. 

"Alright, Chipmunk, just don't take long," Dean replied, prompting you to roll your eyes. Steve noted the nickname, remembering it all too well. As you made your way toward the shelves of tapes, Steve remained with your brothers, soon summoned by Robin.

"It's about their father," Robin had filled Steve in on the situation. Wherever their father was, it didn't sound promising, especially with everything happening—the Demogorgon, Vecna—anything could be connected. Observing Dean's expression shift from annoyance to complete shock, as Sam realized that dismissing the student article might have been their first mistake.

"So... you're saying you fought one of them?" Sam directed his question to Steve. Usually, Steve couldn't resist a bit of ego-boosting, but the serious expression on Dean's face and his repeated glances in your direction, ensuring you wouldn't make a mess, made Steve reconsider. Perhaps setting aside the flirting was the wisest choice. Thus, he simply nodded. "Yes, thanks to Dustin, who obtained the information initially. Even the police are clueless about what's truly occurring."

The Winchester brothers exchanged glances. "Dustin?" they asked simultaneously. Steve nodded in confirmation. "Yes, and not just Dustin. We also have El, who possesses superpowers. She's been instrumental, but given your father's disappearance, someone would have found his body by now or—" Steve hesitated, unwilling to entertain darker possibilities, especially after their experience in the Upside Down. He shared a concerned look with Robin, who shrugged, considering various scenarios. "Wait—let me just process all of this," Dean interjected, taking a step back. Robin offered him a seat at the counter, which he gratefully accepted as he attempted to piece everything together.

"So, let me get this straight: first, this kid Will goes missing, then you guys run into some Demo-whatever-the-hell-it's-called, and now there's this girl with random powers who was held captive in a lab by some Vecna creep?" Dean recalled how vague his father had been on the phone the previous night, mentioning he'd be at some sort of lab. The thought worried him, prompting Sam to give his brother a concerned look. "Are you okay?" Sam inquired. Dean hummed a yes and locked eyes with Steve, who swallowed nervously. Despite only meeting briefly that day, something about your older brother made Steve fidgety. Dean paused momentarily, then retrieved an article from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. Steve immediately recognized Nancy's handwriting.

"Not to sound arrogant, but that's your source?" Steve gestured towards the paper, blinking twice. While Nancy's article was informative, she had to simplify and spice it up to attract readers for her publication, not to mention keep the whole Upside Down ordeal a secret. Steve distinctly recalled her mentioning that. However, he hadn't anticipated it would attract a group of hunters brandishing fake FBI badges. Despite his reservations, he refrained from commenting on it. "Also," he added, indicating their badges, "this whole fake badge charade doesn't fool us. We've already dealt with the Russians trying that stunt," he remarked smugly. Just as you arrived with a stack of DVDs, you couldn't help but laugh. "See? I told you those FBI badges were outdated."

Sam's lips curved into a playful smile as he observed your reaction. Despite disliking that you were traveling with them and missing out on a normal life outside of hunting, it was gratifying to see you interacting with people your age. Your formal demeanor while conversing with Steve, who nodded in response to your comment, was refreshing, as were the small interactions you shared with Robin. "Cash?" Steve inquired next, prompting an eager nod from you as Dean stepped in to pay. "But I have enough!" you protested, pouting adorably—a sight that Steve found strangely endearing. He snapped back to reality as your brother impatiently waited for him to retrieve the cash. "Want-Want the receipt?" Steve asked stuttering slightly, to which your brother shook his head. As the three of you prepared to leave the store, thanking the two employees one last time, Dean paused, causing Sam and you to exchange a curious glance. Dean clearly had something in mind.

"Can we arrange a meeting spot?" he inquired. Steve and Robin shared a glance, aware that the next day they would be assisting Dustin in searching for his friend Eddie. It appeared to be an ideal opportunity, particularly since your brothers intended to explore Hawkins' forest as well. "Skull Rock?" the younger boy proposed. Neither your brothers nor you were aware that you would have more company than anticipated. Dean hesitated, but upon seeing your radiant expression as you held the stack of DVDs you had purchased, you spoke up on their behalf before he could respond. "We'll be there!"

Steve's prediction proved accurate. The following morning arrived, and he remained uncertain whether you would indeed appear, let alone bring your brothers along. The previous night, after interviewing numerous locals, you had practically pleaded with them to join, convinced it was an excellent idea. Considering your father's tendencies, initiating the search in the forest seemed logical. "If this is because of that Steve boy again," Dean interjected with disdain evident in his tone, prompting you to roll your eyes. "It has nothing to do with him! Besides, he's taken down one of these creatures before. I'd sooner trust a DVD seller than a random sheriff at this point." You made a valid argument, and upon witnessing the resolve in your expression, Sam concurred, "She's got a point." With a sigh, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine without another word and directing the car toward Skull Rock.

"So who are we waiting for exactly?" Dustin inquired impatiently, observing Steve's restless pacing. "And what's with the sudden nerves?" Robin teased with a smirk. "It's Y/N." "Y/N?" Steve spoke your name, almost offended. "Oh, so you know her name?" Robin enjoyed Steve's irritation and couldn't resist teasing him further. "She mentioned it before they departed, in case you were paying attention, lover boy."

"They?" Dustin regarded the two adults before him, clearly perplexed by the situation and the strangers they had involved. "Her father vanished, and her brothers, who are apparently hunters, were dispatched here. We're just hoping we don't stumble upon their father's lifeless body along the way," Steve explained. He hadn't intended to sound so severe, but his nerves had taken over, leading him to adopt a touch of sarcasm. His confidence faltered as he heard your brother's voice drawing nearer. "Y/N, this is nonsense. We should've contacted Castiel."

"Yes, but remember, Castiel's at the hospital right now. He needs the rest," you reminded them, recalling the events of the last hunt. "Come on, grumpy old man," you added, grabbing Dean's arm, eliciting a whine from him, while Sam chuckled, enjoying the moment. As your eyes met Robin’s, you waved at her. "Robin!"

Robin was the first to notice your arrival and approached you with a hug. You were introduced to Dustin, whom they described as the clever one, and who had some knowledge about the creatures and your father's potential whereabouts. Lucky for him, he had mentioned about seeing a man whose description bore a striking resemblance to your father's, which he promptly relayed to Dean. "So, that's how you stumbled upon this entire Russian trap?" you inquired. They all nodded in agreement, but their conversation was interrupted as Eddie emerged from his hiding spot, causing you to startle slightly.

"Dustin, you rascal," Eddie's voice reverberated in your thoughts. Amidst the chaos of your missing father and the onslaught of curses from Max and Eddie, whom you had only just met, Eddie extended his hand to shake yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he flashed a smile. "Haven't seen you around before, sweets," he remarked, managing to find humor in the situation despite its gravity, prompting a slight cringe from Steve, who had been the first to encounter you. Yet, you couldn't deny that Eddie exuded a certain charm of his own. "We've been sent on a mission. My father disappeared around here a few days ago, and my brothers, who are hunters, insisted I come," you explained, introducing Dean and Sam to everyone present, including Lucas, Max, and Nancy, all of whom reciprocated with their own introductions.

"And I assume you're familiar with me," the metalhead sighed at his presence, wishing for a more auspicious introduction. You shook your head, seeking confirmation from Robin and then Steve. "Eddie," Steve answered, somewhat irritated. "The 'supposed boy' who was involved in the cheerleader's death?" your brother recited from a news article. But quickly flinched and groaned in discomfort as you took the crumpled article and hit it against his chest. "Good Lord, Y/N, what was that for?" he protested as you gave him a knowing glance. 

"Do you get a serial killer vibe from him?" you questioned, coming to Eddie's defense. “It’s alright, Y/N, there’s no need…” Observing the unfolding scene, Steve couldn't help but wish he were in Eddie's position, but circumstances had changed since your meeting with him the day before. Determined to contribute, he spoke up. "Shouldn't we be, you know, taking action instead of just standing around? Especially for their father, Dustin, and everything?" 

Dustin briefly glanced at Steve, recognizing that familiar look of jealousy. First, it was with Nancy, and now it seemed directed toward a complete stranger. Amused, Dustin couldn't resist teasing him and feigned ignorance, only serving to make Steve's jealousy even more evident. Meanwhile, you were completely absorbed in Eddie's presence, oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil. Dean, always the vigilant brother, interjected, "Come on, lover boy, no time to waste," playfully tousling your hair as he noticed Steve's uneasy glance. You muttered a few choice words before smoothing down your hair. It was endearing to witness the two men vying for your attention, but it also put Dean, the protective brother, on edge. "Sammy?" he called out, turning to Sam, who was already assisting Dustin in plotting the next course of action. "Ready?"

You, on the other hand, gave a final glance to Eddie, who appeared ready. "Lead the way, sweetheart," you encouraged. The walk proved lengthier than anticipated, and as the sun began to set, the sky revealed the first twinkling stars, a sight you never failed to appreciate. Steve made a point to remain by your side throughout. "Look!" you exclaimed, prompting Steve to recall the way your smile lit up your face. Your observation caused everyone, including your brothers, to pause in their tracks. "The stars seem larger tonight," you remarked in awe. "Are you a fan of astrology?" Eddie inquired, leaning closer to you, and you turned to regard him. "And you?" you countered. He shrugged. "Not particularly, but now that you mention it, Hawkins nights do hold a certain allure, don't they, Steve?"

"Indeed," Steve responded, the faint edge of irritation apparent in his tone. Eddie noticed, recognizing the signs of infatuation, and chose not to press the matter further. "Perhaps," he suggested, "rather than discussing stars, we should direct our attention to..."

An interruption broke the silence—a familiar screech that caused Dustin to halt abruptly, prompting everyone to freeze in place. He listened intently, ensuring it wasn't merely his imagination. "Do you all hear that?" he whispered, the sound growing louder. Your brothers remained nearby, while Steve stood steadfastly by your side. You could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours, prompting you, out of habit, to reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, he was your knight in shining armor.

Dean swiftly seized the flashlight, his actions quickened by a piercing scream resonating through the air. As you turned to confront the creature lurking in the shadows, a chill of fear gripped you, compounded by the sight of blood dripping from its jaw. Paralyzed, you sensed its menacing presence drawing nearer with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, it lunged towards you. "Y/N!" Steve's urgent voice reverberated in your mind as Dean barked orders at Sam to take the first shot. Yet, the gunfire proved futile against the relentless creature. "Steve!" Robin's frantic shout pierced through the chaos as she tossed him the bat. Everything unfolded too swiftly to comprehend.

Overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature, you found your knees giving way, sending you tumbling to the ground. In a swift response, Eddie rushed to your side, offering reassurance in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's gone," he repeated, his words a steady anchor amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, you instinctively shielded your face, attempting to suppress the rising tide of screams threatening to escape.

Unbeknownst to the group, your father had been silently observing from the shadows all along. With keen interest, he monitored the actions of his two sons and daughter, though the sight of you among them caught him off guard. This situation served as a test, one that Dean might soon recall—it was designed to assess whether the two boys were prepared to tackle cases beyond their usual scope. However, your involvement was an unexpected twist, not part of the original plan. Little did John know, another version of himself had been lurking much closer than anticipated.

Sam was the first to discern John's presence. His disbelief was palpable, tinged with a hint of revulsion at the sight of his father seemingly unscathed, contrary to the myriad theories the three Winchesters had fervently debated in recent days. "Dad? Dad?" Dean's puzzled expression mirrored Sam's confusion, just as Steve swiftly dispatched the Demogorgon with a well-timed blow. 

"Boys," John greeted with a smile that felt forced. Max, sensing an underlying unease, found herself growing suspicious. Though not intimately acquainted with the Winchesters' father, her own encounters with flayed individuals had honed her instincts. "Guys," she interjected, attempting to capture Steve's attention, "I have my doubts about him." Steve, casting a brief glance at Hargrove, immediately redirected his focus upon hearing your faint cries, ensuring your well-being as he knelt beside Eddie. Meanwhile, your brothers stood frozen in astonishment at the sight of their impostor father.

"Dean?" Max's voice reverberated in your brother's mind, prompting him to turn towards her. "Yes?" he replied, noting the concern etched on her features. An instinctual feeling swept over him, suggesting that the figure before them wasn't their father. With Sam in close proximity, Dean couldn't resist beckoning him over, yet there was no response. "I don't believe it's your father," Max murmured softly, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "And what leads you to that conclusion?" Dean inquired, though inwardly he harbored similar suspicions. Despite clinging to a glimmer of hope, he remained open to Max's insight. "Do you notice any discrepancies?" Bingo. Dean scrutinized the man masquerading as their father, discerning subtle nuances in his smile, his gaze, and the feigned affection. It became increasingly apparent that whatever entity had taken control was failing miserably at replicating their father's mannerisms.

"I'm relieved to find you all here. I was growing concerned," the voice emanated, its tone unsettling. Max's intuition proved correct. Sensing trouble, Sam moved closer while Dean hastened towards him, their actions synchronized with the abrupt sound of another gunshot. The bullet found its mark, striking the impostor masquerading as John. A sickly green fluid oozed from his mouth, portending imminent danger. His once-human eyes now glowed an eerie white. In a stroke of luck, John had managed to discharge a bullet into his counterfeit form. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he cried out for his father.

Dean's grip tightened on his firearm, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, questioning the authenticity of the figure before him. John's eyes met yours, a silent challenge conveyed through his gaze. Despite the tension, you managed to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of the moment. With Steve's presence lending you reassurance, you stood your ground, determined to maintain composure amidst the uncertainty.

"Bringing Y/N along, really?" Your father's tone dripped with a mix of disgust and shame, causing Sam to sense the weight of the situation. Understanding the pressure you were under, he rose to stand by your side. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve, recognizing the need for composure, subtly suggested maintaining distance, hinting at the gravity of family matters. Despite their advice, you clung to their shirts, silently pleading for their support. "Please," your eyes implored. Thus, you, Sam, Eddie, Steve, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy maintained a respectful distance, observing the unfolding events.

Dean harbored discontent towards his father's stance on involving you in the discussion. While it had been acknowledged that reaching a certain age would inevitably draw you into the hunting lifestyle, akin to Sam's trajectory, Dean remained disheartened by the prospect. He often cited Sam's own journey, pointing out how it led him to abandon Stanford and commit to hunting full-time. Unlike Dean, Sam advocated for a conventional life for you, one filled with relationships and camaraderie. The time spent in Hawkins only solidified this perspective for you. "She's prepared," Dean asserted, though John's skepticism was evident.

"Y/N, return to the car," your father's voice rang out, commanding attention as all eyes turned towards where you knelt, shaking your head in defiance. "I said, return to the vehicle," he reiterated, employing the same authoritative tone he used on Sam during the vampire hunt. Just as you were about to interject, Sam's figure materialized beside you. Sensing the escalating tension, Steve cautiously ushered Eddie away, allowing space for Sam to intervene.

 He knelt beside you, meeting your gaze with familiarity, recognizing the turmoil reflected in your eyes—a familiar sight during conflicts between your father and himself. Understanding the need to address the situation decisively, not only for his own sake but for yours as well, he inquired, "Do you want me to speak to him, instead?"

A silent sob and a nod conveyed everything. "No, Dad," Sam's voice, grave and resonant, shattered the stillness. He reserved that tone for moments of utmost gravity. Dean attempted to interject, "Sam!" but his words fell on deaf ears; Sam had already approached their father. "She's not prepared," Sam asserted, his gaze penetrating the darkness of the night. Towering slightly over their father, he leaned in, exuding an air of palpable tension. "You are the reason she departed in the first place. In any case."

"What did you just say?" John's voice carried the weight of authority, now laced with a menacing undertone aimed at both his son and daughter for their insubordination. "You heard me," Sam retorted unwaveringly, his gaze hovering dangerously close to his father's collar, poised for confrontation. Yet, he refrained from physical action, mindful of the precarious situation in Hawkins. The tension between the two men simmered, with Dean positioned between them, striving to defuse the escalating conflict. "Yes, you left when your brother and I needed you. You chose her over us! Sam! You—"

"And let's not forget, Dad, you're the one who said, 'Don't come back.' You slammed that door shut on her, not me! You were just angry because you couldn't control her anymore!" Dean interjected, seizing his brother's collar to preempt any potential altercation. John, their father, fixed his gaze on you. Sam's accusation hit home. Despite your love for him, the scars from his domineering nature and the dangers of the hunt still haunted you. Was it all to prove a point about strength? Even now, the memories of that day haunted your dreams. 

"We're all exhausted," Dean interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Now that we've found you, maybe we can head back to the motel." Sam's expression betrayed his reluctance, but it seemed like the most prudent course of action. With their father located, the Winchesters knew their business in Hawkins was concluded. However, your intentions were different. You had someone else in mind: Steve.

Steve observed the scene with mounting fury. The family conflict played out before him, and seeing you curled up, trying to hide your distress, fueled his anger. He was furious at your father for forcing you into a life you hadn't chosen, for making you feel trapped by the family legacy. Watching your brother stand up for you only deepened his ire. Later that night, while your brothers tried to calm your father. From how you would see him gently caressed your cheek, wiping away any lingering tears, and let you collapse into his arms. Murmuring soothing words such as, "Hey, it’s going to be alright. I’m here." And he meant it. He stayed with you all night, knowing that by tomorrow, you might be gone. Or so he thought.

The following night, you faintly recalled your brothers arguing, their voices rising until they stepped outside to avoid waking you. The hunt had left you drained, but your father's harsh words lingered in your mind. With your eyes closed, feigning sleep, you heard the front door of the motel room creak open. Your father entered and knelt beside you, gently brushing the hair from your face. The look on his face, one you couldn't forget, made you wonder if Sam had managed to get through to him. "I am so sorry..." he murmured softly.

His voice was hoarse from crying. Whatever they had discussed was more significant than you had imagined, affecting not just you but Sam as well. As his twin, you had always stood by his side, through thick and thin. Your father, recognizing this bond, finally broke the silence, "If you want to go to college," he said, his voice laden with emotion, "then you can. I love you."

He hadn't wanted to wake you, but his genuine words stirred you. You couldn't help but lean in and wrap your arm around his waist just as he was about to leave. Initially thinking you were asleep, his eyes widened in surprise, then softened as he smiled and returned your embrace. When your brothers returned with food, Sam smiled but refrained from teasing, not wanting to embarrass you. "Dinner?" he asked simply, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.

Your father glanced at you as you wiped away the last of your dried tears. Nodding, you joined the three men at the dinner table. As you ate, your thoughts drifted to Steve and the longing to see him one last time. "I know we're leaving tomorrow, but..." you began, cheeks flushing. Dean, catching on immediately, spoke through a mouthful of sandwich, "The lover boy?" He raised an eyebrow. Both Sam and your father chuckled, with your father raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Who?" he asked, though he clearly knew. "Steve," you murmured, so softly that your family made you repeat it. "Who?" they echoed, smirking. "Steve! Alright, jeez. Anyway, I have to return my DVDs anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes, even though he was notoriously inept when it came to romance. Seeing you with someone, especially someone like Steve, was undeniably endearing. He knew Steve was a good guy—after all, he had helped a complete stranger in the woods, which had led to more than just uncovering their father's disappearance. Now they knew their dad had been flayed. While Dean hated the idea of leaving so soon, he understood that helping Hawkins was necessary. And if it meant you could spend a little more time with Steve, he didn’t mind at all. "You know," he said in a suggestive tone, "I talked with this Dustin kid..."

You met your brother's gaze, eyebrows furrowed, sensing he was onto something significant. "Spill," Sam demanded.

"Well, I also talked to Dad," Dean began. "We discovered something more sinister lurking beneath Hawkins. They need all the help they can get, so I offered our assistance. We’ll be staying a few days to start our search." Your eyes widened in shock and joy as you processed your brother's words. This meant you might be staying for weeks, even months, given the seriousness of the Upside Down situation. And it also meant more time with Steve. “So, we’re staying?” you asked, excitement evident in your voice. Dean nodded with a smile, ruffling your hair. "Don't get too excited, Chipmunk. But yes, and Dad is joining in."

You couldn't be more grateful, and as the three of you settled into bed that night, only one thought occupied your mind: Steve.

The next morning, your brothers and father decided to eat at the nearest café in Hawkins. Over breakfast, you managed to gather more information: one piece related to Max's curse and another concerning Eddie's possible connection to Chrissy's murder, a name you learned only afterward. “And I thought vampires were bad,” you quipped, eliciting chuckles from your brothers. Given your extensive hunting records and those of your brothers and father, it was evident that this situation in Hawkins was unlike anything you had faced before.

After breakfast, while your family was investigating with Dustin's help, you decided to visit the store. Steve was nowhere to be found, so you gently placed the DVDs on the counter and waited. As time passed, your patience waned. With a sigh, you left the DVDs and some cash on the table, resigning yourself to the thought that Steve might already be thinking of someone else, perhaps even kissing another girl. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N! So sorry, it was my break shift. I didn’t–”

Your face brightened at his presence, a wave of relief washing over you for not considering his break earlier. You watched him clumsily put on his vest and walk toward you for a hug. “You okay?” he asked, releasing you and focusing entirely on you, his eyes filled with affection. You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, we finally managed to talk it out with my father,” you murmured, still processing the emotional weight of the conversation.

Steve's concern was palpable, but relief washed over his face as you spoke. “Also,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, “I heard you’ll be staying here for a while, huh?” His teasing tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head and murmuring a soft, “Mhm.”

"Yep, my brothers insisted on helping as much as they can," you said, appreciating their unwavering support, even in the gravest situations. It was one of the many reasons you wanted to join their hunts; balancing college and hunting didn't seem so daunting after all. "This means seeing your face all day," you added with a teasing pout, trying to feign offense. Steve's chuckle and eye roll, however, told you he saw right through your playful act.

"Ouch, I am hurt," he said sarcastically, stepping closer. It was now or never, he thought. If he waited another day, another week, who knew when he'd get another chance to express his feelings. "You know," his voice became slightly hoarse as his eyes roamed over your face and body. His fingers gently brushed your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. Up close, you realized how striking Steve's eyes were—something you'd have to get used to. "I don't have anything planned for tonight," he purred, making you tilt your head in feigned innocence. You knew Steve had something in mind, even if he wasn't saying it outright.

"I was thinking of inviting you over for a movie night at my place. I'll cover the pizza," he offered, his words causing your cheeks to warm. While you felt the urge to inform your brothers, you decided to wait until later, until you were at Steve's house. "Alright, lover boy," you said, using the nickname your brother had coined for him. Steve grunted and rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing. "So, tonight at 8, Chipmunk?" he added with a smirk, to which you responded with a playful glare.

"Eight o'clock it is," you agreed. Just as you felt the warmth of Steve's proximity, the door swung open. In walked Dustin, Max, Eddie, and your brothers. Dean, unable to resist, was the first to comment. "Alright, lovebirds, we've got some research to do. If you want my sister by eight, we need to get started immediately."

"Dean!" you protested, turning to face your brother with a glare. He smirked and followed Dustin to the DVD computer, while Steve protested for more carefulness. As everyone crowded around the screen, Sam approached you, leaving the two of you momentarily alone. "You know," he said with a genuine smile, "if you want to go to college—" You shook your head. Despite your father’s agreement, you couldn’t leave your family behind; you loved them too much. "No, I really think I'm ready," you replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken aback but relieved, and wrapped one arm around you in a quick hug.

"Then let’s kill this thing," Sam said, and you nodded, following him. Who would have thought that a place you initially hoped would hold clues about your father's whereabouts would also be where you'd find friends and someone to count on—Steve Harrington. "You okay?" Steve murmured as you joined him, noticing your brief discussion with Sam. "Yes, I am," you replied with a smile, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. "I just can’t wait for tonight as well," you confessed, and you could have sworn you saw Steve's cheeks warm at your comment, which you found adorably endearing. He leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek, returning the favor.

"I am too," he said.

[septembersghost]

fwiw I would read your essay on the Memphis album ☺

😭 thank you honey, it's worth a lot

[todayisafridaynight]

I should be studying right now, but… do you ever think about how Arakawa didn't have to die?

Not even in the meta sense that it's RGG "tradition" to take faceclaims/father figures/antagonists out of the picture and that traditions should sometimes be broken, or that Aoki would've changed his mind, or that Ishioda or Tendo could've been stopped. But because Jo is the captain (and later second patriarch) of an organization specifically stated to specialize in faking deaths. A practice that originated in the Bubble Era years after Jo had already joined, and that Jo was no doubt intimately familiar with.

Like, isn't that why Arakawa was able to take that risk shooting Ichi? It just feels like things could've gone so much differently had Jo "accepted" Aoki's orders and "confronted" Arakawa with some kind of escape. Perhaps the Ijincho homeless camp would be off-limits, having drawn too much attention recently, but an assassin would surely know how to lay low for a while.

And maybe Aoki, Ishioda, and Tendo would've been undone by their own ambition anyway. And Arakawa could've kept his word and ran the security company with the pillars of the Tojo and Omi, while Jo could've been the chairman of the Tokyo Omi Alliance; light and shadow, opposite to their respective sons. And so many more yakuza wouldn't have been left with nowhere to go.

And hell, maybe none of it would've worked out in the end, maybe it would've all folded like a house of cards, but wasn't it worth a shot? Perhaps it was Yokoyama he who didn't think of it (or couldn't/didn't pursue it even if he did), perhaps it was Jo. But there's something so tragic about being so fundamentally opposed to lifting a finger in violence towards your co-parent and patriarch that you decline the opportunity to save him.

I wonder if the thought has ever occurred to Jo.

I wonder how much he regrets it.

UGH RIGHT IT'S SOOOO....

Like of COURSE I'm upset about Arakawa's death in that we lost a wonderful character and father figure in the franchise, but also it's cause it's just... for all the scheming Arakawa and Jo have been doing behind Aoki's back this entire time, Jo folded on this opportunity to get Arakawa out of Aoki's radar for good this time- or for at least the time being.

It's a testament to the humanity he convinced himself he threw away, and that's why it especially makes me want to scream. From our understanding, Jo is supposed to be very pragmatic and tries to deal with matters as efficiently as possible and generally seems emotionally detached from his work (of course we know that's not the case, but just from a surface-level perspective that's how it appears). So the one time Jo does show an ounce of humanity, it has the greatest consequence.

[mintyvoid]

uuuwaaaaa- i just stumbled upon a new song and the urge to record a cover is sooooooooo strong

aah the moment i have my own space you'll know, cause i'll be cracking out covers/english dubs of shit non stop

[moonit3]

THE BEST ROOMMATE

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, sex ;), amab genitalia (yandere), dom and soft! yandere, reader doesn’t have a gender but is the submissive one (you know, the one taking it), oversimulation, reader is horny and shameless (also a perv), virgin yandere, pillow humping, soft at first but then hard, very implied pregnancy reference.

➥ yandere! male roommate x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: he loses his virginity to you, his roommate who he had been crush on.

➥ a/n: a work that took me a little extra time to finish ^o^, but here it is and this time with dominic, a lovely boy who is willingly to help you satisfy yourself over and over.

➥ dominic never thought to ended in this situation. not in a millions years, he expected to lose his virginity to his hot roommate that everyone wants to be with. in fact, he hasn’t accepted that he is no longer a virgin despite seeing how dirty and wet the bed has become due to his and yours fluids… yet the memories still so fresh in his mind.

➥ it’s happened just a few hours ago, he came home early after work (his boss let him have a week free after being announced as the employee of the month). at first, everything was quiet and he couldn’t find you anywhere, so he initially thought that you have gone out. however, he heard smalls sounds coming out of your bedroom and his curiosity got the bed of him, then he got a small glimpse of what you are doing by yourself there and well, you got him fully blushed.

➥ with a pillow between your legs, you are humping it. whimpers and moans escape your lips as the pillow case barely manages to contain the immense amount of fluids around your thighs. and to make things even interesting, you are moaning his name between sobs, like you are desperate for his touch.

➥ his first touch was to step away, like a normal person would do, but his hand was faster and open your bedroom’s door, revealing that dominic was watching you pleasing yourself for a while. he expected you to yell, be embarrassed or even cry of shame, but no, you simply smiled at him and asked if he wanted to join. what?!

➥ he wanted to leave, but the tent growing up in his pant is getting large and so, he step closer to and got between your thighs, putting both your legs above his shoulders. shyly, the brunet teased your entrance with one finger and your body shaken a little, letting even more cum over the bed as begs escape your lips, just put it in! I want to feel you, dom!

➥ but he didn’t, instead, he put another finger inside your entrance and began teasing the insides of your warm hole. not really having a clue what to do, he uses his fingertips to touch your walls and to feel the wetness that is growing inside you, is he making you feel that good? his suspicions are correct as you barely can speak, only moans are coming out of your mouth as you guide one of his hand to your chest, letting him pinch one of your nipples.

➥ this continues for a while until he couldn’t hold more and took his pants off, revealing his member hard and already leaking so much! the sizes scares you initially. how is that supposed to be inside you? it’s not going to fit, but you aren’t someone to give up easily, so you ask dominic to go slow in the beginning in order to accommodate his cock and to let him feel.

➥ with moans, a little of awkwardness and both hands strongly holding your hips (it will leave bruises!), he gets inside you. feeling every inch of your walls with his cock is so magical, it’s better than his friends told him or what porn made him believe, he is so lucky to have a good roommate like you! and as promised, he starts slowly and delicate, enjoying how your body shakes and trembles to make up for his size and how you can only speak his name like a broken record.

➥ for minutes, he went slowly to make sure you would ready to the next part and when you said that you were more than ready to him go faster, dominic didn’t hold back. the fast and harsh thrusts make your body react in a way you never thought it would be possible, more and more fluid coming out of you and you can’t even moan with his lips on yours. where did he get so much energy? you don’t know, but don’t question him as he just keep going.

➥ and after minutes of it, dominic warns you that he is getting closer, asking if he could come inside you just this time, just to experience how it’s feel. you never let any of your previous partners coming inside you, too scared to lead it to an unexpected surprise, but his pleading change your mind. with your consent, he comes inside you and fill your inside with his white liquid, and of course, some of his cum mixed with yours from previous orgasms.

➥ you are a completely mess now. marks, handprints, cum and swear all over the two of you, he was quite excited, wasn’t he? the cutest smile is on his face now with tears dropping from his eyes, saying that he so happy to have lost his virginity to someone like you, someone important and that he wants to be with for the rest of his life, so he asks you to be his partner. what an adorable guy! and since he made you feel so good, you accepted it.

➥ “I promise to make you the happiest person in the world, [name]!”

➥ what a sweet guy! now your exhaustion has catch up, making you fall asleep in his arms. don’t worry, dominic will take care of you, but he just need to cuddle with you for a moment.

@moonit3 writings

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: message from your future spouse/partner

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: what energy should you bring with you into the new year?

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile 1

their physicality: emo style, pale, dark hair, tired looking, vitiligo, multicolored hair, highlighted hair, heterochromia, attractive, cute, stylish, possible smoker, and/or nice voice

their personality: impulsive, spontaneous, foreign, traveler, commitment issues, wanderer, needs space/freedom, adventurer, flirty, mesmerizing, agile, easily jealous, charming, irritable, scatter-brained, high-energy, easily distracted, and/or indecisive

where you are likely to meet: outdoors, at an art gallery, decor/antique shop, flower shop, alternative medicine shop, card section of a store, when buying beauty products, somewhere you are meant to dress up, art class, at a metaphysical shop, psych office, at night, the movie theater, night club, new york, naval academy, on a boat/cruise, at the beach, yachting, and/or somewhere coastal

now maybe this person doesn't have the best track record with previous lovers. in fact, it might be a bit chaotic to you when first hear about it. maybe when you meet them they will be freshly out of a recent breakup. they might be the type of person to remains friends with exes. those exes might even be actively involved in their life. that likely stems from their fear of commitment or their fear of being alone. currently, they are still learning that letting endings happen leads to new space for "bigger and better things" and people (like you).

to them, you are like the only star on the darkest night. they will only have eyes for you because you will be their muse. they adore you. you are so incredible in their eyes. they will see you as someone who is immensely strong, faithful, and optimistic. they find you to be a breath of fresh air - when they are with you, they feel like they can dream. they see all the possibilities of what could be and what they could become to transform into someone worthy of you.

they have some great qualities but ranking highest is their urge to control the chaos in your life for you. they are protective - they don't like to see you overwhelmed or hurt by the world around you, so they willfully step in the path of chaos to protect you. when you are overwhelmed, they are the first to volunteer to take care of anything for you. especially, when it involves them, they want to stay with you at all costs, so they will do whatever it takes to appease you and make you comfortable. they also are very wary and do not believe everything at face value, which, in my opinion, is a good quality. they don't take "i'm fine" as it is; they need to know that you are seriously fine. they don't do insta-love either which is good because, in my experience, those are the connections where the relationship is quick to fizzle out. they search for honesty and truth in all things but even more so with a romantic partner. and you? you are as genuine as they come. one last quality i want to mention before moving on is their stability and reliability. when this person makes up their mind, their mind is unchangeable. when they commit there is no out - they are all in. they are someone very stabilizing, driven, and generous when they decide that you are the one for them. they will no doubt make you their partner in crime. they will want you with them to explore the world and to spoil.

i feel like there will be noticeable tension in your pre-relationship that will bring you guys together. it will make you both feel destabilized and make you wonder if you are doing the right thing. you might feel like you are being vulnerable unnecessarily and that the relationship will amount to nothing but that won't be the case. challenges are momentary and are meant to bring you back to where you are meant to be.

the connection will bring happiness and intense emotions, especially, because you are both willing to confront each other with honest feelings and fears. you are both assertive and focused on your goals to make a future together.

song: "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys

pile 2

their physicality: distinctive features, angular features, black/dark hair, chiseled look, strong chin, emotional, seductive, attractive, pale, curvaceous, and/or darker skin tone (olive, easily tans, etc).

their personality: talkative, articulate, dextrous, gossiper, eloquent, influential, spiritual, soulmate, deep, independent, constantly in motion, diplomatic, and/or mediator.

where you are likely to meet: via a friend, someone sets you guys up, at the doctor's office, therapist office, walking a dog, at the veterinarian's, doing charity, while out to eat, at a bar, at the bank, making a donation, a romantic place, and/or at the cardiologist

i sense that they have a good reputation when it comes to love. they are notably nurturing, reliable, sensual, and dependable in a partnership. they go into a connection wanting to build a strong and lasting relationship.

they love that you are always trying to improve yourself. in the past, you may have been codependent on other and you might have relied on others to make you feel happy, but when you meet them, your efforts to do the opposite will be noticeable to them. you won't have unrealistic expectations for them, in fact, when you communicate with them regarding your expectations in the connection, they will find them very doable and will respect you for being upfront with them.

this person has rather unique qualities that makes them an attractive partner. for one they are aware that their emotions and thoughts sometime cloud them from seeing the reality of a situation. they can acknowledge their stress without taking it out on you and those around them. they like to manage their mental health so they can lead a productive life, they aren't afraid of making changes to better accommodate their situation. it is important to them to implement healthy coping strategies such as journalling. journalling and talk therapy likely made them the eloquent individual they are when they meet you. another attractive quality is their humble natural - they aren't haughty people who believe they are better than those around them. in fact, they aren't afraid of questioning themselves and their abilities - they realize that they are not the only one with answers and abilities. they don't do anything impulsively, they think carefully about everything before they actually do anything. lastly, they aren't afraid to admit they need space to take care of themselves - they aren't the type of person who allow others into their space just so they can lash out at them. they are very caring even when they feel depleted. they look within to nourish themselves, so you never have to fear that they will drain your well to refill their own.

you both will be brought together after you both feel more stabilized (emotionally, mentally, monetarily, etc) and are willing to commit. while careful planning isn't the sexiest thing in a connection, the sense of stability you will find with one another after such a long time of waiting to find each other will be well worth it.

this was a match made in the heavens, in my opinion. it was simply meant to be - this is the most important connection of your lifetime and they are your soulmate without a doubt. you both will love and respect each other all your lives. when you lead with love, what else could you expect.

song: "helena" by my chemical romance

pile 3

their physicality: physically fit, bodybuilder, good looking, in shape, attractive, dark/black hair, and/or darker skin tone (olive, tan, etc).

their personality: depressive, unhappy, down, lower self-esteem, pessimist, sickly, talkative, dextrous, gossip, mediator, loyal, devoted, friends first, humble, persistent, trustworthy, dependable, and/or friendly.

where you are likely to meet: somewhere with illegal activity, IT, technology shop, via a plumber, jewelry shop, at an amusement park, on the road, in a courthouse, at a political rally, at a voting booth, a highway, at an art class, at a metaphysical shop, a psych office, at night, at the movie theater, at a night club, and new york.

i sense that they aren't overly experienced with relationships, mainly because they have been working on themselves. they have been looking for someone to build a strong relationship with. someone who matches their enthusiasm, passion, and/or intensity.

they love that you can wait for things they you really desire - you have very good restraint. you aren't afraid of adjusting and refocusing your plans and goals to fit where you are right now. you aren't easily frustrated by a lack of progress - slow and steady wins the race for you, and they adore that you have that level of determination, patience, and passion.

your partner will have some astounding traits that are kinds blowing to me as i read these cards. for one, i sense that this person is very healthy - they don't have any exes waiting in the winds for them and hoping they will come back. their exes know they just won't be back. when they are done, everyone knows that they are indeed done. change is natural and normal to them - they have no problems letting go of things and people that don't help them grow or serve them in the long run. they like things and people that have purpose and are driven. they will do whatever it takes to go into this next chapter in life with you. this person tends to focus on the past however. sometimes it is difficult for them to see the possibilities of what could be as they fear that only bad things surround them and their circumstances. but they do not wait for the world around them to change; they begin the change within. they go through it - they have been through it. they know pain and struggle which has taught them how to be gentle, caring, and how to be content. they know how to find peace and how to be grateful for what they have gained. all of this is to your benefit.

prosperity and generosity are what bring you together. that and, of course, maturity - maybe this is someone you knew earlier and life, and now you are getting a second chance with them. by being forward and clear about your intentions this connection will continue to blossom and grow.

i feel like you will be better off and happier when you keep the relationship private - there are people on both side of your relationship that are gossips and manipulation.

song: "puppet" by tyler, the creator

[northgazaupdates]

13 February 2024

Journalist Wadea Abu Alsaoud documents the obliteration of southern Al-Rimal in Gaza City. Previously a beautiful and vibrant area with lovely homes and thriving businesses, the IOF has completely destroyed much of it. Instagram user faridaek provides a full English translation:

"Witness the scale of destruction in this area following the withdrawal of Israeli occupation tanks. The area has been completely destroyed, as you can see. We stand amidst a catastrophe zone where everything-trees, people, and stones-has been obliterated. Not a single house or tower was spared by the occupation's missiles and shells; the area has suffered immense destruction. Nothing here has escaped the reach of the Zionist enemy's missiles and attacks. The homes have been extensively burned and destroyed. We're now in the Southern Rimal area of the Gaza Strip, once among the most prestigious locales and considered the capital of Gaza, now severely damaged. The occupying forces' tanks have left no stone unturned destroying everything. This scenes speaks to the occupation's crimes, brutality, and arrogance towards civilians and their homes in Gaza. These were homes of ordinary people: doctors, professors, engineers, and many who had no ties to the resistance. The destruction here is severe.

Not a single house remains intact—this area is now a disaster zone and completely burnt. I am recording this footage hours after the Israeli tanks's withdrawal. You can support us by sharing these videos and our accounts so the world can see the extent of their brutality and injustice. All we ask for is for you to share our videos so they can reach everyone, in hopes of awakening the world's conscience after 127 days.

Source: Wadea Abu Alsaoud on Instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by وديع ابو السعود (@wadeaa_.9)

[amourtoken]

some Noah thoughts for you on this lovely Monday morning

this has no structure so don't hate me lol literally just emptying my brain

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: spit, oral, dom/sub themes, anal, dirty talk, raw sex (again don't do this irl), breeding, cum play, belly bulge, choking, mentions of recording, sex toys, ect.

♡ God he's fucking gross and I love him

♡ he's an insatiable mess 99% of the time and could tell you he loves you more than life itself and intends to spend every single day he has left in his life with you cause no one else fills his heart like you in one breath, then tell you he's going to fuck a baby into you and fill you up so good you can't sit for days in the next. He's a completely different creature in bed than he is just being your softie lil boyfriend, it's like he has a seperate personality meant for fucking you.

♡ this man refuses to shut the fuck up ever. Chatterbox in bed, constant yapper. Allow me to give some examples of the things he says whilst balls deep inside of you:

"Who's fuckin' pussy is this? Yeah- that's fuckin' right. All mine. Say it."

"Fucking take it- fuck- take this dick baby-"

"Feels good? Hm? Use your words baby I wanna hear how good this dick makes you feel."

"Awe you close? You can fuckin' hold it. You can't cum till I say so baby"

"You take this cock so good it's like you were made for it, fuck"

"Gonna fill this pussy up so fuckin' good, want me to put a baby in you? Yeah? Beg for it."

"Love how dumb my dick makes you."

"Shhh, you can handle another one. Gonna cum as many times as I make you."

"That's fuckin' right baby, pray for me, I'm your fuckin' God."

"I'll make it fit."

"Aw, you look so fuckin' pretty when you cry, this dick feel that good?"

♡ loves to fuck you from behind while holding you up in a headlock. He loves how strong he is and especially when he gets to show it off, knows you love his arms and will exploit that kink of yours as often as possible. He's also a big fan of choking, those big tattooed hands wrapped around your throat until you're dizzy and pliant for him.

♡ speaking of hands, he can't keep his fingers out of your mouth. He lovessss having you sit between his legs and suck his fingers while he uses his free hand to stroke his cock. Tries to see how far down your throat he can get them before you gag, praises you immensely for how good you take him. You get so messy during this, but it just aids as extra lube in the future and is an easy warmup for you before he ends up fucking into your mouth.

♡ loves rubbing the tip on your lips and smacking it on your tongue before fucking your throat, and on occasion when he wants to get extra messy, will cum all over your pretty face just to rub it in with his cock. He's gross, but it's cause he loves you and can't get enough. If he cums in your mouth, makes you open and stick your tongue out to prove you swallowed everything (also might have multiple pics of you with his cum covering your tongue but yk that's his secret.)

♡ he's big in every way. Big hands, tall asf, big cock. That being said, when he's fucking you, you can see the outline of his dick through your lower stomach and he's relishes in it. It drives him up the fucking wall. He'll press his hand on your belly just to feel himself rut against his hand through you and he'll cum harder than ever. Also loves stretching you out pre-fuck with his big fingers. Loves how he can feel you tighten up around them before he makes you cum all over them. He could spend literal hours between your legs if you'd let him and has before.

♡ munch. I said it and it's the truth. The man is obsessed with pussy.

♡ loves a good 69, especially in which you're laying back with your head off the bed and he's standing above you at the edge. He'll wrap his hand around your throat while he's got his cock stuffed down it just to feel himself fucking into you. He's enamored, let him play with you.

♡ fucks you to the point of tears frequently and God forbid you have neighbors, they'd be terrified he was murdering you from the way you sound. Screaming, crying, pleading, moans and whimpers, this man fucks you like he hates you but he loves you with his whole heart.

♡ back on that nasty shit, will absolutely spit in your mouth and rub it into your tongue with his fingers. Especially enjoys doing this pre-blowjob and claims it's "extra lube" but rlly just likes doing it. You'll literally do anything he says so he takes advantage of that (consensually ofc, you guys have a color system and safe words just incase)

♡ he's an ass man, ass and thighs for sure. Loves watching your ass bounce against his hips when he's fucking you in doggy and is no stranger to anal either. It took a while to work up to being comfortable with it but he's incredibly patient and would never force you into it. This led to a pretty big collection of pretty plugs and beads for you, before you were actually ready to take his cock. When you are ready, he cums so fucking fast.

♡ yes he's a gross nympho but as I said in the beginning, when you're not fucking, he's the perfect sweetheart bf. This applies to after you fuck. He's the king of aftercare. Will break the scene after you've caught your breath to press light kisses all over you and check in. He'll help you clean up and get you water or snacks if you need then cuddle you in bed till you pass out. He's so in love with you it causes him genuine pain sometimes.

[yeeterthek33per]

Kidding? (Glódís Viggósdóttir x Reader)

A/n I was inspired by recent events. Also, yes, I am still writing, I promise. Apologies that this one is a little short.

Warnings: google translated Íslenska, a little more than suggestive.

----

It seemed too easy.

Three weeks early, and the league was yours.

The title belonged to Bayern.

You knew it was much less easy than that, of course.

The time, the preparation, the training.

Every drop of blood, sweat, and tears.

But still.

It was like you blinked, and the season was coming to an end, and the silver plate in your captain's hands, glittering in the midday sun, belonged to your team.

Speaking of said captain.

You can't help the way your chest fills with pride and love at the sight of the bouncing, overjoyed, Icelandic woman.

The screams of yourself and your teammates drowned out by just the sight of her this happy and carefree.

Don't get yourself wrong.

She was as relaxed as captains could be, but it was nice seeing the weight of a whole season lift off her shoulders.

The pressure of perfection is finally released as the team clinches its second title in a row.

And your heart beats faster when she looks over to you across the bouncing huddle.

The chants of

"SUPER BAYERN SUPER BAYERN!"

Just filling you with immense pride for the woman across from you.

She approaches you as the group disperses slightly, a pep in her step and a leap into your arms as she holds your face, grin wide and bright, your hands settling under her thighs to hold her up.

"Elskan mín" (My love)

You hum, her tone soft as she presses her forehead to yours.

"Ég er svo stolt af þér." (I am so proud of you)

Her nose brushes yours as a light dusting of pink cross her face.

"You've been practising?"

"Smá" (A little)

"Guð ég elska þig." (God, I love you.)

She groans softly as she drops down from your grip, hands gripping your shoulders as she looks slightly up at you, a small peck to your cheek and she drags you over to the now forming line in front of the away section in the Bayer Leverkusen stadium.

After that, everything happens all at once.

Team photos, media duties, everyone's got a phone recording or posting, media outlets are interviewing your girlfriend and the two goal scorers for the day, swapping between camera crews seamlessly.

You're dragged into several videos and tiktoks, jumped on, beer dumped on you, occasionally receiving a smile from the strawberry blonde you call yours, in the small moments of quiet.

When you're finally settled, it's in your seat on the flight back to Munich.

Everything on the bus is chaotic, so there's no time to really process anything by the time you've been ushered onto the plane to return to Munich in time for recovery the next day.

The exhaustion is set in quick, and you're all whisked away back home once again, nearly the whole team knocking out on the flight, which surprises you given a certain someone's red bull addiction and just the overall excitement of winning the league.

The alcohol is still flowing through all of you.

The alcohol that will still be there when you arrive home and inevitably get dragged out to clubs and parties, even with the looming DFB Pokal Final.

And such happens.

You barely get time to shower and change before you've got Georgia and Sarah banging on your front door yelling at you and Glódís to hurry up.

Much to the bemusement of your captain, who'd been occupied with her back pressed to the glass wall of the shower.

All of that, to end up here, sat back, leant against a bartop, watching as Glódís dances with your teammates, the care-free air flowling freely around her.

You'd stepped away to grab another drink and a small break from the constant dancing and jumping around you'd been doing for the past twenty-four hours.

Turning back to the bar, you take a couple long swigs of your drink.

After another minute or so of just watching the passers-by in the club, you feel an arm around your shoulders, hands caressing your shoulders.

Tensing up, but then recognising the voice pressed to your ear, you're met with deep brown eyes and a very tipsy loving smile.

"Halló!"

You chuckle softly at the Nordic woman, arm wrapping around her waist as she leans on you for support.

"Hi, my love, how are you?"

Asking with an amused tone, only just feeling the buzz of the latest batch of alcohol pumping through you as it seems to have hit your girlfriend much quicker.

"I feel amazing!"

She all but shouts in your ear, and you wince slightly, even with the thumping bass in the crowded room.

"I see that!"

She hums, settling her nose into the crook of your neck for a moment, and presses a few small kisses there.

She then tugs you towards the dance floor.

"Come dance with me!"

Downing the rest of your drink, you set the glass down swiftly and let the older woman drag you off.

You watch for a moment, taking in the woman before you, moving and swaying already before you're even fully engrained into the large crowd of your dancing teammates.

She immediately pulls you in as close as possible, body pressed right to yours, hands settling on the nape of your neck, and you lean down to let your head rest on her shoulder as your body moves in time with hers.

Her fingers tangle in the loose hair at the back of your neck, nails gently scratching at your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

It continues like that before she's leaning in to kiss you, her lips smashed against yours roughly and a little sloppily.

You chuckle, slowing her down a little with hands on her cheeks, kissing her for a moment longer, though she does pout as you pull away amused.

"Slow down, baby, we've got all night."

She groans before you finally let her kiss you again.

This time, it's slower, and she relaxes into your hold, which shifts to holding her hips, pulling her into you further if possible.

It's when you prod at her lips with your tongue that she grows impatient again, your teeth taking her lower lip to nip at it lightly.

She all but drags you from the club at that, much to the amusement of your teammates as you give them loud goodbyes over the music.

----

It doesn't surprise you that she's conked out the moment you're both laying under the sheets, sweat sheened and heart racing.

Her head's buried in under your chin, resting on your chest, arm thrown over your waist, and soft puffs of air getting released into your neck.

The past two days just come whirling through you all at once.

The anticipation, the win, the celebrations, the exhaustion, the continued celebrations, the fact that you got drowned in so much beer at some point, you're pretty sure you gave someone contact innebriation.

It's all a lot to go over, and knowing you still have more to do before an even remote break becomes available for you all.

Despite the exhaustion, you can't help lying awake for another hour, just to take in everything.

To let yourself relax into your girlfriend's warm embrace.

It takes but a moment to realise just how much you love her.

How you would do this over and over again just to see that smile again and again.

Just to see her this carefree and relaxed.

Just to see her dark brown eyes light up within a moment of a single whistle.

Watch as she jumps into your arms again, holds you tight, and kisses you with fervour and pure joy.

Someone once asked you if you ever saw yourself with anyone else.

Your answer?

"Are you kidding? Hell no."

----

[fleursbending]

𝐈'𝐦 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | Jake Sully

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : as your dad navigates his grief, you're there to remind him just of one thing. that you won't be leaving him as well.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : dad!jake sully x neteyams twin sister!reader

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : the very highly anticipated sully!daughter fic is finally here to cure all your daddy issues. it is imperative you read pt 1 because none of this is going to make any sense! hope u have some tissues cause this is a tough one! i also suggest you listen to this on repeat while reading, it just encapsulates perfectly the aura surrounding this story.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, talks of death and grief, sm hurt/comfort, dialogue-heavy, missing neteyam hours, dad!jake is in deep pain.

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : skimwing - pandoran creature inhabiting the tropical oceans, ‘ite - daughter, sempul - father, ngaytxoa - sorry, my apologies (acknowledgment of guilt and regret), olo'eyktan - clan leader, sa'nok - mother, mawey - calm, 'eveng - child, yawntutsyìp - darling / little loved one, tsmukan - brother, rey’eng - the balance of life.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words (are we surprised) ?!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @pandorainmymind @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard @iwaslikeblah @dumb-fawkin-bitch @theicemav @narutoboi

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐘 this past few weeks. It greeted you in disguise, leaching at every hope that remained after your brother had taken his last breath. Slowly, but surely - its efforts won in the end. 

After the battle had come to a finish, time stilled once you returned back to the rock. And it escaped you entirely when you returned Neteyam back to Eywa. 

To Y/n, it did not matter that the Metkayina had accepted her family as one of the people. Is this what it had to take? Her brother being ruthlessly killed by the sky demons to really prove their worth? If anything, it made her feel deeply ashamed - scorned.

Everything around Awa'atlu was a reminder of where he coexisted amongst you. The laughter you shared, the games you'd play with Tuk. The teasing and riding your Ilu's together. It played like an old record, jammed in the forefront of your mind. 

That was why you couldn't fall back asleep, tonight the onslaught of harsh memories had demanded your attention. Taunting you, egging you on - what you have lost. What won't remain. 

A frustrated huff fell from you in the silent darkness of your mauri. In the midst of your cuddle pile that your family rested in nightly, there was a gaping space left untouched. The one right beside you. 

It was where he would reside once turning in for the night. These sleeping arrangements were still something you struggled to grow accustomed to. Even if fatigued gnawed at your eyelids, your heart refused to let you rest.

 A faint yet distinct figure pushes themselves up from the pile then, Y/n squints her eyes as they start to make their way out of the mauri. They widen in recognition, it was her father. Where was he heading out to this late into the eclipse? 

Ever so slightly she wriggles and attempts to maneuver out of Lo'ak's hold, the poor boy hadn't been able to disconnect from your side since the unfortunate day. Y/n knows he felt immense guilt for his actions that weren't even his fault. 

But that was something else to worry about for another day.

As you mimic your dad's movements from moments ago, your head turns to look back at your family. Okay, good. None of them had awoken from their deep slumbers.

Whisking around, Y/n peeps out of their mauri. Heart thudding, but oh - there he is. 

Jake had seated himself at a spot on top of the boat that had been gifted to your family after your father had been able to successfully ride a Skimwing. The same spot Kiri sat when she and their father shared a conversation, you had only witnessed the end of it. Unfortunately, you and Neteyam had to cut it short after dragging Ao'nung to them and demanding the idiotic boy, confess to his dumb shenanigans. 

That was the day when you thought you were going to lose Lo'ak. 

It's crazy how little you knew of back then.

Her heart felt so brittle, knowing it was also the spot that had become her and Neteyam's. After seeing it being used that day, it was where you two would go to have quiet intimate conversations. From your worries as the elder kids, or to any fun things that have occurred that day. The both of you had claimed it, but now it had been abandoned. 

Y/n hadn't stepped foot close to its vicinity ever since….everything.

Taking a deep sigh to calm herself, she tiptoed over to Jake.

Nevertheless, Jake alert as ever immediately whipped around. Eyes holding something akin to being on the defense.

Raising your hands up in alarm, you whisper to him, "Dad, hey! It's just me, it's just me."

His mouth gapes as he slumped back down. His shoulders promptly drained away the sudden tension that had built up from the shock. 

"Ah, 'ite. Sorry, you scared me. He spoke, but his voice sounded worlds away. 

You peer down at him, he wasn't usually one to be scared. 

"It is okay, sempul. I should have announced my presence. I'm the one who should be sorry."

He rasped out, "Stop apologising, you do not need to apologise!"

Her ears flatten then, folding themselves back. Y/n's tail lowly swishes in anxiousness at his rash tone. 

"Sempul-" You said in a small panicky voice.

He hushed you, making you sit down by him. Jake brought you into his arms, holding onto you as tight as he could without harming you. 

"I'm so sorry, sweet girl. I shouldn't have yelled at you." He continued to express his regrets quietly as he rocked you in his arms, chin pressed to the top of your head.

The luminescent ocean ceased its aggravated waves then as if to give you a tender moment of peace. 

Jake chokes on his next words, and it makes you straighten up in an instant. There's a resounding affliction that lingers in the words that flow out of him like he'd been slammed back to earth. 

"Losing a twin is far worse in comparison to losing your legs."

The cries saddle him then, and it pierces through your core. He's trembling a worrisome amount, cowering away from your imploring gaze. 

You've never heard your father cry before. Not like this.

"Ngaytxoa, sempul." 

It was something you'd only say in dire moments to drive the point home whenever you screwed up really badly. An admission of guilt, something that holds more weight than the sorry's you've been speaking back and forth to each other since the beginning of this encounter.

Jake knew this, far too well actually. It made him tense up.

You know the tales, the struggles he had to overcome when he was disabled. How much he loathed himself and the life earth had carved out and boxed him in. His brother's death was his calling to try to do something greater with his life. 

Then he became a dream walker, a body that gave him far more solitude than he ever imagined. Jake never wanted to return to his human form due to how in tune he felt with his na'vi body.

The sentence he had just uttered made you frankly realise how burdening his grief must be for him.

His firstborn son, his hopes and dreams. His entire life. Neteyam was his boy. Jake's mighty fisherman, Jake's mighty warrior, Jake's solitude.

 It all came at you in full force then. 

The devastated man before you didn't even care about how worthless all the training for Neteyam becoming the future Olo'ekytan came to be. He came to terms with that once he made the tough decision for his family to leave everything they have ever known. 

It paled in comparison to the remorse he felt for what he could have experienced with his son instead. That was something that bothered Jake to the bone. The fact that he would never be able to make up for the lost time with Neteyam. 

He'd never be able to share a new moment with him again. 

The duration of his fatherhood began with Neteyam, and a part of it sunk alongside his child when the sea anemone passed him on to the great mother.

Now you were all that remained of him, and Jake had never felt such immeasurable unsettled shame. His one duty as a father is to protect his children. To guide you through life, to aid you in whatever way was possible for him. Even with the tiny wiggle room you'd given him to do so, he tried his best. 

For the first time with you though - his best was not enough. 

Jake failed your family, and in doing so, he failed you. 

His firstborn daughter, his pride and joy. His softness. You were his unbreaking glue, the one who kept him together. He couldn't utilise that this time, Jake did not deserve that. 

Although he was a fool to think so cruelly because you were just like him. 

He too was what remained of a bond so unwavering and mighty. A remnant of what could have been, what has been lost - and what is forced to stay.

While you never witnessed firsthand him experiencing that, he relived it through you and Neteyam. He admired you two graciously, seeing you both flourish amongst one another. How an attachment so noticeable and persistent, only grew in tandem over the years.

Wherever Neteyam and Y/n would be, they swiftly knew they were in the same proximity to each other. Y/n never had to look, she just knew it was him. Jake knows this because he nurtured you, taught you the ways of the people like Neytiri had done for him all those years ago. 

Two peas in a pod, an impenetrable force. Each other's shadow, each other's light. 

You both would always weave each other out of the darkness that bloomed in your minds every now and then. Conveying the importance of what life has to offer. 

Forced to mature at a quicker pace than most kids your age, because the world you lived in demands it. Forced to learn the ways of war when your tiny hands could barely even wrap around a trigger of a gun. 

He wasn't easy on you two.

Now more than ever, he wished he had been.

"Oh, dad." You mumbled, tears beginning to well up in your own eyes as you tug him back into another embrace. 

There in his baby daughter's arms, he finally lets it all out. Somber wails ebb into your shoulder as you squeeze him, giving Jake some much-needed security. There, he allows himself to wallow in his grief, letting it finally catch up on him.

At the end of the day, he was a father who had lost one of his greatest accomplishments.

And you were his kid who lost two pillars in her life. Your home, and your twin. It was haunting you every waking moment, the thoughts of what you should be experiencing. What he should be doing. 

It felt like the world was ridding Jake of all he has to live for, a repetition so caving and tumultuous. 

"Now your kid has to really follow in your footsteps," is the dread that drills in his mind. 

You didn't deserve this, once again he felt and harbored the most guilt. It was like he was watching Home Tree fall right before his eyes all over again. 

It was all his fault, and without exception - always will be.

As if Y/n read his mind, and picked apart all that he currently is. The inner turmoils he had been forced to with had come to an all-time peak.

She soothed, "It's not your fault."

He sighs in return, "Y/n."

You shake your head, that same determination from when you were both trapped in the sinking ship flickering in your eyes. 

"It is not your fault." You annunciate each word, each syllable.

You survey him, letting out a low scoff at his avoidant eyes. 

"We cannot do this to ourselves. It cannot be mine, Lo'ak's, or your burden to keep. If we head in that direction, we'll meet that demon ship on the ocean floor." 

Some of those words sink in with her as well, she knows she can't keep living like this.

Y/n realises that her words aren't resonating with Jake. The man before her was a shell of her father that could usually endure anything that came his way.

Jake was distraught, frantic for answers - why him? Why his family? Why Neteyam?

You survey your surroundings then, trying to see if you can knock him out of the reverie that has taken him by storm. You didn't want to be too abrupt with it, not wanting another abrasive reaction like before to happen.

All you see is the cerulean water.

Y/n lets her hands glide along the tide, cupping some in her hands only to then let it sprinkle over Jake.

He blinks at the sudden cold raining over him. 

"Sorry, 'ite-"

"I think we should forbid that word from being mentioned for the rest of tonight." 

Jake lets out a huff through his nose in response.

"Ma sempul, please. Look at me. You haven't properly done so since that night." You plead to him.

He gulps, gripping at the boat beneath him and letting his knuckles turn a stark white.

"I can't." He cries out, eyes squeezing shut in remorse and chagrin. 

"Yes, you can. Come on, dad." 

Shaky hands grab at his face, almost slipping at the sheer amount of tears that cascade like a ruthless never-ending waterfall. 

His heavy eyes try to stay level with your arms that have reached out for his face. 

Before finally, he looks at you.

A soundless sob rakes through him then, and in return, you shed a few of your own. 

"I miss him, I miss him so much. I can't sleep, I can barely stomach anything. I can't properly take care of your mother, our family-"

His words stumble out of him at a rapid pace, but you do your best to soothe him as he tries to catch his breath through some sniffles.

"-I can't be a good father while navigating this grief." 

Finally, he properly exhales. Releasing himself from the internal battles that had kept him restless all this time.

You pat his cheek in reassurance and fondness, "That's where you're wrong. You're being a good father right now."

He inhaled shakily, the waterworks returning to him at your genuine ways of trying to give him comfort. Jake is terrified though, he'd never been this vulnerable with you.

Maybe when you were a lot younger, yes

But life swept you both up, too invested in your own responsibilities. Back then there was time for your father-daughter extravaganzas. A time when he'd be able to take you out in broad daylight and let you go flying with him on his Ikran. Before the sky people returned,  before Jake had to reassemble his war party and train them heavily again. 

A time when being Olo'eyktan wasn't as demanding as it came to be. 

Jake's hands grab onto yours, inevitable shame still coursing through him. 

He should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.

But grief demands to be felt. It's not something you can outrun, it'll overtake you eventually. 

You try to dispel some of his fears. 

"It's okay right now to feel all these things, sempul. But we can't let it overrule us, we can't let it win." 

Subconsciously, he squeezes your hand that still lingered on the apple of his cheek. There was an unsettling glimmer that still lay behind his eyes. Y/n knew then, there was a root he had yet to relinquish. There was still something brewing in his head that had been the biggest reason that he'd been kept awake these past few nights.

Y/n tilts her head, wordlessly questioning him. Beckoning Jake to reveal the mangled web that connected everything together. 

His hands tremor once more, lips wobbling as he struggles to maintain his already fractured composure. The sight leaves a heavy weight on your heart, desperately wanting to know already so you could try to ease the pain. 

After a moment's reflection, he speaks, "Every time I look at you, I'm so scared it's going to be the last time, 'ite."

Neteyam sighs from above you both then. Eywa looks at him, daring him to voice out his thoughts.

"They are so determined and hard-headed, great mother. You know, the people always said to us that I was more like sa'nok. But she was always a carbon copy of our sempul. Ugh, I miss them." 

She hums in acknowledgment, the great mother already knowing this. 

They both return to peer down at the two figures below them.

"I just can't. I won't lose you too." He reiterates then, mind clouded at the thought of losing you the same way you all lost Neteyam. 

The sky people would cease to exist if they dares to do such an act.

"Sempul, mawey. I am not going anywhere. I am staying right here. I will always be here. He will always be here, I'm sure he is now." 

Neteyam chuckles at that, how ironic.

 He points to you excitedly, "see great mother, it's like this twin telepathy thing." 

Y/n rests the palm of her hand against Jake's chest, where her dad's heart stills. 

"I do not know what it feels like, to be a parent. But I know what it does feel like, to be your daughter. It is the greatest gift Eywa could ever give me, dad. I won't ever take that for granted, not anymore. You won't lose me, especially not like that." Your words hinted at a darker ending, one you dearly hoped you wouldn't be meeting anytime soon. 

You'd do anything in your power to keep that promise to your father, it's the least you can do after all the trauma he has had to clamber through. 

"Ma ‘eveng." 

Y/n gives him a wistful smile, and he returns it with the most genuine grin you've seen ever since the passing. 

It gave you a semblance of relief. Now having a true grasp of your father's mind as of late, Y/n couldn't help but feel repentant. It'll be alright though, time doesn't have to be kind to you. As long as you are with one another, you'll continue to help him in any way possible to fight his grief. 

"Thank you, yawntutsyìp." Jake beams, and you know you don't have to say anything in return for him to see the gratitude you hold towards him.

You stand then, tugging at his hand for him to come with you.

"Come on old pal, let's get some much-needed sleep."

He scoffed, fingers darting to your sides and pinching them - "I'm not that old!"

Y/n giggles, leaning into him and hugging Jake's waist. He guides you back into the dark of your mauri.

Seeing your family all resting harmoniously gave you a newfound sense of hope. It'll take time to heal and grow from this, sure. But you're the Sully's.

You've made it through the utmost of hell, surely you can make your way back down.

Even if your inner demons continued to nag at your mind, - you stood by your stance then.

Y/n would do it all over again if it meant she could return back to her family at night. If at the end of the day - she can meet them, feel their presence with her. That was enough.

It gave her the greatest consolation that she still felt him then, her tsmukan. Her rey'eng.

Her reason to make it through another day. 

Y/n's protector who will always and forever be mighty, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. 

He held his hand to his heart then. Neteyam would forever be indebted to Eywa, the boy appreciative that indeed - he could feel you too.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

TAKE CARE OF YOU

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 4,312

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It's why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn't look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn't be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: i know what you're thinking. 'JJ, what the hell are you doing?' The answer to that question, always, is 'I have no fucking idea'. But, this idea gripped my soul. Oops.]

01: YOU WORK A BUNCH THEN ONE DAY YOU DIE

"i don't want a sugar daddy but maybe like a sugar buddy. i just hit him up like, 'Hey how are you today?' and he replies, 'Doing great thanks for asking here's $7,000.'" -unknown

The life you lived was simple and boring. You were reminded of this fact as Nima rambled through a story about how her blind date last night had turned into a bar brawl which spiraled into a stint in the emergency room. Meanwhile, you had binged a show you'd already watched a dozen times on Netflix while shoveling popcorn down your throat. This worked perfectly for you though. You got to stay in your comfort zone while living vicariously through your best friend’s disasters. 

“Please tell me you won’t be seeing her again.” You chuckled.

Nima scoffed, “Hell no. She could not carry her own in that bar brawl. That’s why we ended up in the ER.” She scrunched her nose then shrugged. “But she’s fine now. The girl only needed like seven stitches.”

You shook your head and breathed out a laugh. For the entire time you had known her, going on a decade now, Nima had never dated a normal woman. It was almost impressive how terrible her record was.

The Korean woman’s hair was dyed a solid bubble gum pink and tied up into two messy buns atop her head. Her clothes were a patchwork of pastel colors that showed off her toned midriff and long legs. The purse wrapped around her chest was shaped like a giant strawberry and the large headphones wrapped around her neck were equally as bright as the rest of her. Everything about Nima was a blur of chaos and energy and people couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Add that to her awful taste in women and it was the perfect recipe for her wild dating history. 

“Why did we come here?” You asked as your eyes scanned the menu of the coffee shop. The two of you were in the very long line waiting to reach the register, and you had to lean to the side to see around the broad man standing in front of you both. “It’s so overpriced.”

“I follow this girl on insta and she said they have the best lavender matcha latte.” Nima shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “It looked amazing.” She bumped her hip against yours. “What are you gonna get?”

“Will you yell at me if I say vanilla latte?”

“Yes!” Nima scoffed. “That’s so boring! Get one of their specialty drinks at least!”

“Like?”

Nima scanned the menu then pointed at something. “Get the cotton candy frappe!”

You chuckled and continued to scan the menu. There had to be a middle ground option between those two. The line continued to move and Nima had switched from her dating life to her newest project at work. She was an engineer currently working in construction. You were immensely proud of the success she had found in her passions. Honestly, a bit jealous as well. You were in the northern end of your twenties and you had still yet to find something you loved. It was like the world had hit pause on the momentum of your life post college. Time flew by, years passed, but nothing had changed.

The man in front of you reached the register and you realized you’d have to pick something soon. You heard him order something simple⏤ like you had planned. You didn’t pay him much mind until you noticed him patting his pockets growing more frantic with his motions as he realized he was missing something. Finally, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the angle you stood at, you could just barely see his profile, but it was enough to see his face was scrunched up in frustration. You glanced over at Nima, who was texting, then back to the man who was obviously having a terrible day.

“Sir?” The boy working the till questioned.

“Just⏤” The man huffed as if he were trying to wrap his mind around something. You assumed there was more going on than just a lack of money to buy some coffee. Not having the means to pay for something was probably just the icing on the cake for him. It wasn’t a situation you were unfamiliar with. 'Been there, done that'.

Quickly, you stepped up to stand beside him and fished out your card. “Add a, uh, cinnamon roll latte to that order please. I’ll pay.”

“Wait.” The man held his hand out to argue, but the guy at the register was already swiping your card. He wrote the orders out and motioned for Nima to step up next. The man stepped away from the register without tearing his eyes away from you. His stare was inquisitive and confused. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He had a southern drawl to his words that you didn’t hear often in this part of Los Angeles. Your eyes scanned his figure which looked even more broad when you stood in front of him. The man wore a worn out red flannel with old blue jeans and work boots. His hair was a bit messy, fluffed and slightly curled at the ends, in mostly shades of brown with a bit of silver peppered in. The silver was more prominent in the scruff along his jawline. He was handsome, there was no denying that. Even with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips drawn out in a frown, you couldn’t help but admire him.

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrugged. “You looked like you were having a rough day. We all need a helping hand now and again.”

When Nima finished ordering you turned your focus on her, but she said she was running to the bathroom and disappeared. It left you standing alone next to the man waiting for the drinks to be made. Which would be fine if you didn't feel his gaze still burning into you. Awkwardly, you crossed your arms. You were overthinking it. Paranoid. He probably wasn’t even paying you any mind anymore. To reassure yourself, you glanced over at him only to realize you had not been paranoid. Your eyes locked with his soulful brown ones. Handsome brown eyed men were a menace to society. Nobody should have that much power with just a gaze. Panicked and embarrassed, you snapped your gaze forward once more.

“Thank you.” He said gruffly.

“Like I said,” You cleared your throat, “It’s no problem.”

“I’d love to pay you back.”

You turned to face him, letting out a small laugh, but he didn’t join in. The man just stared at you patiently. Your laughter died as you blinked at him in surprise. “Wait, really?” He nodded. “That seriously isn’t necessary. It was like five dollars.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the principle.”

“Listen, you seem stubborn, but I promise you I’m worse.” You joked and the corner of his lip curled up into an amused smile that was gone as quick as it came. You almost wondered if you imagined it. “Just… the next time you’re out and you see someone struggling, pay it forward. Deal?”

He didn’t reply for a moment. Just stared, and it took all your willpower not to glance away again. Finally, he crossed his arms over his chest. You mentally cursed when your dumb eyes traced the lines of his arms. No ogling the stranger. He nodded once. “You drive a hard bargain.” A small smile cracked his otherwise solemn features and this time it lingered long enough for you to actually acknowledge it. “But you got yourself a deal, darlin’.” Your cheeks burned again at the term of endearment. He paused before holding out a hand to you. “I’m Joel.”

You shook his hand, his much larger one enveloping yours entirely, and you offered him your own name. Silence settled between the two of you, but it only lasted a beat before your orders were called out. Joel’s long stride had him at the counter before you got there. He picked up your coffee first and offered it to you before taking his own.

“Thanks.” You chirped.

“I’m thankin’ you, remember?” Joel lifted his simple cup as a reminder. He gave you a slight nod. “It was nice to meet you, darlin’.”

“Uh, you too! Hope your day gets better!” You gave him a small wave. 

Joel turned to leave and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail up and down his entire body. His jeans could not fit him more perfectly. Ogling the stranger was okay, you decided, as long as said stranger wasn’t watching you do it. As you shamelessly checked him out, you didn’t notice your friend drift back to you. “Nice.” You jumped in surprise. Nima was grinning at you in excitement. “Please tell me you got a number.”

“A number?” You scoffed. “Are you crazy??”

“I saw sparks!”

You rolled your eyes, “You literally see sparks everywhere, Nima.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe, but one of these days I’m gonna be right.” She argued. “Statistically, speaking.”

You changed the topic of conversation, which was always easy to do with Nima, and took a sip of your coffee. It was a bit too sweet for your taste, but the trip to this pretentious coffee shop hadn’t been a complete waste. How often did people get a chance to chat with a handsome, older southern gentleman?

The bakery you worked out was a small family owned business. The owner, a cute little old man named Henry Pack, was an old friend of your father’s and when you showed interest in work he hired you without hesitation. That was two years ago. The initial plan was for this to be temporary. A way to earn money so you could pay bills and save up to finish your degree. However, life had dished out hit after hit and suddenly your temporary plan had turned more permanent. 

Plus, the shop wasn’t doing well, it wasn’t getting the traffic it used to, and Henry was getting older and older. He needed the help and even if something else came up⏤ whether it be better paying or more enjoyable⏤ you didn’t think you’d be able to leave Henry behind. Not after all he had done for you. 

You wiped down the counter once more mostly out of boredom. The last customer had been in and out nearly an hour ago. Henry walked in from the back office and you glanced over at him. He was a short, portly man with ruddy cheeks and a kind smile. It hurt your heart how stressed he had been as of late.

“Have you noticed much foot traffic outside?” He asked, hopeful.

“A bit.” You nodded. “Lunch just ended. I’m sure that’s why we have a lull.”

“Right, right.” Henry replied as if trying to convince himself.

The older man knelt down to root around in the lower cabinets. You offered to find whatever it was he was looking for, knowing he had bad knees, but he brushed your hands away stating he was just fine. With a sigh, you thought now was the best time to bring up the question that had been plaguing you.

“Henry, I need to talk to you about maybe a… a raise?”

He glanced up from where he was knelt with a frown. “I told you, hon. I can’t afford to pay you more. No matter how much I wish I could.” Henry sighed. “Well, maybe if I…”

“Never mind.” You said quickly. It was clear that your question was distressing to Henry. It wasn’t his fault you weren’t making the kind of money you needed. He was barely scraping by as well with the costs of keeping this place open. Henry gave you a sad smile⏤ an apology. He finished what he was doing and wandered back to his office. You blew out a frustrated breath. Maybe you could pick up a new job. The problem was that you were already working a crazy amount of hours here at the bakery. If you were somehow able to become the first human alive who didn't require sleep then that could work.

You covered your face with your hands and leaned back against the counter. For most of your adult life, you only had yourself to rely on financially. It was fine. That was the hand life dealt you. Nima was constantly offering to pay for certain things, or trying to loan you money, but you always refused. Too prideful to take her money with no guarantee that you’d be able to pay her back or offer her anything in return. 

The sound of a bell chime startled you and you pushed off the counter quickly to try and regather your bearings. You cleared your throat and turned toward the door to offer the guest a smile. A greeting began to leave your lips, but it was cut short when you realized you recognized the man crossing the space to reach the register. It was the handsome coffee guy from a week ago.

“Well, you’re a familiar face.” You chuckled. “Joel, right?”

“Right.” He looked surprised that you remembered his name. Joel cleared his throat and came to stand in front of the register to face you. He had on a similar outfit to the last time you saw him. Flannel and jeans, but he seemed a bit more put together today. “Are you guys closed?”

“No. It’s just a… slow day.” All the days were slow actually. You straightened your apron, the only uniform item required for you to wear, and offered him a bright grin. “What can I get for you, sir?”

Joel glanced over the menu then the display case before nodding. “Muffins?”

“Okay.” You nodded when he gave you no further information. His eyes just snapped back to you. “What kind? How many?”

His eyes widened and he forced his gaze back to the display. “Just, uh, six of the blueberry?”

You bit back an amused chuckle and moved to start packing a box with his order. It was funny to you that this man had come into a bakery without an order in mind. After closing the box, you set it on the counter in front of him. “So, do you make a habit of popping into bakeries to order random things? Just passing by and thought ‘why not?’.”

“Somethin’ like that.” Joel chuckled. He reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He gave it a small wave and nodded at you. “I have money with me today.”

“Very nice. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” He flipped it open and pulled out a card to hand to you. You hadn’t even told him how much the muffins would be. “I triple checked before leavin’ the house.” You handed him back the receipt with his card, and Joel put them away without making any move to leave. “How long have you worked here?”

You leaned against the counter. “About 2 years now. A family friend owns the shop.”

“Are you the one who,” Joel motioned to the display, “bakes?”

It was odd to you that the man sounded so nervous about having a simple, casual conversation. It was as if he was rusty at the skill and was attempting to stretch out those old muscles. With a small, amused smile, you shrugged. “Some of it. Henry is the main baker, he’s incredible, and I learned from him.”

“Is it somethin’ you enjoy?”

“Meh.” You answered honestly. “I’ve gotten decent at it, but I don’t necessarily love it. Just sort of fell into it.” Joel nodded and his pretty brown eyes darted around like he was looking for a new conversation topic. You threw him a bone. “What about you? What do you do?” You motioned to him and teased. “I’m guessing lumberjack.”

Joel chuckled, “Lumberjack?”

“Yeah.” You pushed off the counter to stand straight. “If I squinted I‘d mix you up with the Brawny guy.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you let out a mocking scoff. “You know? The paper towel lumberjack.”

You saw a flash of recognition in his eyes and a breathy laugh left him. Joel shook his head. “Can’t say I’ve gotten that one before, darlin’.” 

“Where are you from?” You blurted curiously. “There’s no way you picked up that drawl living in LA.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel replied. “Texas. I’m from Texas.”

“Ah. That fits. You’re like a cowboy then.”

Joel rested his hands on the counter, “Am I a lumberjack or a cowboy? I’m gonna need you to make up your mind here.”

“Hm, can I get three to five business days to decide?” 

“I suppose.” Joel nodded. 

The door chime rang out and you glanced over to see another person wander in. For the first time ever, you found yourself disappointed to see a paying customer. Joel cleared his throat, dragging your attention back to him, and you watched as he opened up his wallet again to pull out a crisp five dollar bill. You laughed with a shake of your head as he shoved it into the tip jar.

“It was nice to see you again.” Joel said.

“You too. Have a good day.”

Joel picked up the box of muffins and on his way out he called back, “I’ll be back to find out if I’m a lumberjack or cowboy, darlin’. So get to thinkin'.”

Your cheeks warmed in amusement and you wondered if he was actually serious or if that was just a teasing joke. The other customer reached the register, and you turned to greet them. The stress of thinking about your bills and work life had been briefly soothed by the distraction of talking to Joel. That was nice.

Shockingly, Joel hadn’t been joking. He came back a few days later, ordering something random and on the spot, then demanded to know if he was a cowboy or a lumberjack. You had convinced him to give you more time to think as you joked that you needed further evidence to assess. That had been the start of a habit. Joel would randomly come in just to chat every few days or so and buy a new baked good from you.

A few times, he had walked in while you were helping other customers, but he always waited until they were rung up and on their way out before initiating any conversation with you. It was during the fifth visit that you could tell he was nervous about something. After some time he had gotten more comfortable talking to you, but today it was almost like he had recessed back to that first time. 

“Are you workin’ this weekend?” Joel asked after ten minutes of small talk.

“Only on Sunday.” You admitted. “I’m picking up some extra shifts.”

“More shifts? Don’t you already work ‘em all?”

You chuckled. “Not all of them, but definitely most. But, hey, that’s life, right? You work a bunch and then one day you die.” Joel always seemed uncomfortable when you talked about your work schedule in any fashion. “Why do you ask?”

He had furrowed his brow at your working comment, but it quickly smoothed out as he shifted in place. It was cute to see a man as large and intimidating as he could be squirming over whatever topic he was trying to bring up. You stayed silent and let Joel mull it over. While he worked out whatever was on his mind, you could admire how well his plain t-shirt fit him. 

“Nothin’. Just curious is all, darlin’.” Joel finally coughed out and you bit back a frown.

“What about you?”

Joel shrugged. “Workin’ some. Stayin’ busy.”

Multiple conversations ago he had revealed that he worked as some kind of contractor. You didn’t know much about that job other than it had something to do with building houses? Maybe? When you asked for more details he had stayed pretty vague.

“I should head out.” Joel cleared his throat holding the box of cookies in his hands.

“Oh. Yeah.” You nodded. “Sure. It was nice to see you as always, Joel.”

Joel gave you a tight lipped smile before turning on his heel and beginning to leave. He was halfway to the door before he spun on his heel and marched back⏤ startling you. Joel set the box down on the counter, hands resting on the edge, and kept his eyes downcast.

“I have a…proposition.” He blurted. Joel’s eyes snapped up to meet yours and the weight in those warm brown eyes nearly knocked you to your knees. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t harboring a small crush on this man. Despite him being nearly two decades older than you, if you garnered a guess, the attraction you felt to him was not affected. In fact, it probably made you a bit more attracted to him. You knew that a therapist would probably cry out ‘daddy issues’, but you also had a hard time believing anyone could not be attracted to this man.

That being said, a part of you⏤ a very small part that you were too scared to encourage⏤ was really hoping he could be asking you out to dinner or drinks. Was that silly and unrealistic? Probably. It didn’t extinguish that little flame of hope though. You shrugged. “Proposition?”

“I wanna take care of you.” Joel spoke firmly. As if by just bringing this topic up, he had shed his nerves and was focused solely on selling you whatever this proposition was. You narrowed your eyes confused at his wording. The man continued. “Help you out, darlin’.”

“With?”

“Anythin’ and everythin’.” Joel sighed. “You name it and it's yours.”

You let out a confused chuckle. It was like the tables had turned and now you were the one who felt nervous. You buried your hands into your apron pockets and tilted your head. “Not to sound dense, but, uh, what?” Joel didn’t immediately reply. He just stared at you and his eyes burned straight to your soul. A warmth churned in your belly. “I just need you to be specific about what you’re offering because it’s going to be really awkward if I’m misunderstanding you.”

“I’m offerin’ you a life of ease. You work too much, doing somethin’ you don’t even love, and even when you’re off I bet all you do is stress about havin’ to work more to afford rent and bills. Am I wrong?” Joel challenged. You twisted your lips not having a solid argument. He wasn’t wrong. “So… let me take care of you, darlin’.” The choice of his words, the sound of his accent, in his gruff voice sent chills down your spine. You swallowed the lump in your throat and squirmed under his heavy gaze. “I’d love nothin’ more.”

“Nothing more? I… I don’t think that’s usually how that works.” You mumbled softly. An almost sickening feeling filled your gut. No amount of attraction to Joel would soften the idea of him paying you for sex. That’s what he was asking right? Joel makes you comfortable, pays all your bills, and in return you fuck him? 

Joel must have noticed the shift in your mood because he held out a hand in surrender. “I know what you’re thinkin’. Not like that. I wouldn’t expect…” He winced. A bit of his nerves crept back into his features. “I wanna take care of you, and all I ask in return is that you allow me to do that. Offer some platonic company. Someone to talk to. Plus, occasionally, I’d need…a date. No strings there either. Work drags me to a bunch of real stupid conferences and outings. Having someone to talk to durin’ those things would be…nice.”

“That’s it?” You found it hard to fully trust that. As much as you had enjoyed your conversations with him, you still barely knew him. “You’d offer someone a little cash to chat with them?”

“Not just a little cash.” Joel said firmly. “Everything. Takin’ care of you isn’t somethin’ I’d want to half ass, darlin’.”

“That’s even less believable.” You said skeptically.

Joel nodded. “Fair. How about this,” He cleared his throat, “You said you’re off Saturday?” You nodded. “Let’s meet. Talk about this. No pressure. You can ask any and all questions you have.”

You chewed on your lower lip in thought. Saturday was two days away. “Can I think about that? Before I even agree to meet you.”

“Of course.” Joel nodded. He pulled a business card from his wallet and held it out for you to take. You reached out for it, and the brush of his fingers against your hands gave you goosebumps. “I want you to be comfortable. Call me if you’d like. Or… if you’d rather never see or contact me again I⏤ I get that too, darlin’.”

You stared down at the card, but realized it wasn’t a business card like you thought. It was the same size, but he had scribbled his name and cell phone number on it for you. Joel mumbled a quick good-bye before heading to the door again. You called out to him, looking up from the card, and he paused to glance over his shoulder.

“Why me?” You questioned. It seemed so random. Situations like this didn’t happen to people like you. They happened to people like Nima. People who were willing to step out of their comfort zone and put themselves out there. This couldn’t possibly have stemmed from this man forgetting his wallet one day and you being in the vicinity to fix that problem.

Joel’s lips curled up into a small smile and he shrugged. “I, uh, I like talkin’ to you, is all.”

The chime of the door as he left echoed through the otherwise quiet room. Your eyes glanced back down to the card where ten numbers stared up at you dauntingly. Just above it, written in a messy scrawl, was his first and last name. ‘Joel Miller’. It wasn’t until you read his name for the seventh time that you realized you were actually considering his offer.

[next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

[writingstoraes]

Hey! Your social media fics are so freaking cute, I love them so much 🥹 If you do take requests, could you please do one which is Charles x singer!reader (who's pretty famous, on like a Taylor Swift or Selena Gomez level) announcing their relationship or just like a random vacation post? Thank you so much, I hope I didn't make the request too long <33

relationship release 💿

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!singer!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: tysm for requesting this, anon 🤍 my first time doing a request so i hope you like it! used hailee steinfeld for the faceclaim :') not revised so please expect errors hehe lmk what u think!

about: you and charles go public just in time for your album release!

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, zendaya, charles_leclerc, and 3,582,918 others

yourusername A photo dump to commemorate the busiest months of my life 📷 from recording my new album (which I am very excited for you guys to hear), taking time for myself, to rehearsing for my world tour. Grateful to be doing what I am passionate about every single day of my life ❤️

zendaya You look amazing, can't wait for the album, love! 💋💋

y/nqueen MAM DID U JUST SOFT LAUNCH A MAN

filmsy/n ik what the fuck she did not just casually drop a soft launch in the middle of the noise of her new album 😭

popgirlsz Am I seeing this right or is the queen of pop in a relationship....

selenagomez Excited for the tour ❤️ Will be in front row for sureeee

singzqueen THIS IS NOT A DRILL SHE HAS A BOYFRIEND OH MY GODDDD

f1fan Oh my god Charles liked? Maybe hes the guy 🫣

popthusiast u reaching too much lmaooo maybe hes just a fan

yourusername

liked by ashleybenson, florencepugh, billieeilish, and 3,981,234 others

yourusername My new album Red Letters comes out in 3 days. ❤️ It has been an incredible journey working on this masterpiece and I cannot wait for you guys to enter the pages of the stories I want to share. Red Letters is all about being wrapped in a heart-shaped dynamic, letting an amalgamation of sensations embrace us as we finally let love in.

As for me, well, loving him has always been red.

florencepugh Loving everything already and it's not even out yet! Such amazing work you've done ❣️

taylorswift My girl ❤️

popgirly/n girlie telling us her new album is about love after soft launching a week ago oh i cant breathe

lanadelslays She knows how to keep us on the hook 😭

yn4ever "Loving him has always been red" QUEEN WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

popfan21 guy lucky as hell imagine being talked about like that... by y/n... living his best life fr

ynlover THE PICTURE IS SO CUTE TOO THATS PROBABLY THEM

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and 1,997,239 others

charles_leclerc Immensely excited about the Red Letters release: not only because of the new, amazing music Y/N will be sharing to the world but because today is the day I get to show everyone the love of my life. Every day it feels like I'm in a fever dream because I'm with someone so talented, charming, and kind.

Mon angè, you never fail to amaze me. My heart is full just seeing you conquer the world. Je tàime, yourusername ❤️

PS. I guess I am the red guy, yes?

carlossainz55 Finally! Charles has been waiting for this moment for quite some time now 🤣

danielricciardo Okay we see you Mr. Red Guy 👀

zendaya Take care of her or there will be consequences!

ilpredestinato KINGGGG SO DESERVED U GUYS ARE SO CUTE

charlos1655 such a hot couple too god they are so

pierregasly Finally went to Y/N's concert without wearing a disguise I am happy for you mate 👏

itpopgirl power couple ugh we love to see it

---------

tagging: @slytherheign hope ure doing well mwah

notes: this took me some time lmao anyways pls bare w me if i use the same usernames for the fan reactions on twitter its so harddd thinking of new usernames everytime 😭 i hope u liked this, anon! lmk what u guys think <33 tysm for reading!

[psychwxrdd]

Chapter I

The Collector (1965)

Summary: Rafe Cameron is obsessed with y/n. Unable to make any normal contact, he decides to add her to his "collection" of pretty, preserved objects, in the hope that if he keeps her captive long enough, she will grow to love him.

🎀 - this is a personal adaptation of the classic The Collector, i love the book and the movie as well and i haven't changed practically anything except for the characters. all copyright to John Fowles, i don't own any of the credits or characters, this is just a fanfic on tumblr for my obx girlies!!

also, rafe is non canon, it's just his looks and name to be honest, cause everything else is just loyal to freddie clegg. lmk what yall think about it!

Rafe Cameron's POV.

Whenever she was home on vacation from boarding school, i used to see her almost everyday, as she lived right in front of the Figure 8. I often saw her leaving and entering the house with her sister and, sometimes, with her friends, who i didn't cared about. I was used, when i freed myself for a moment from the files and statistics, to stand at the window, and, through the frost-fogged glass, i observed the street. Then watching her pass by.

It was the best part of my day: Admiring her beauty. My heart always felt waves of love at her sight, i could phisically feel it. At night, at home, i recorded the incident in my journal, initially with an X and, later, when i discovered her name, her initials. I also met her, several times, on the street. One of the times she went to the door of the Public Library, when i stood behind her in a queue. She didn't even looked at me, but I saw her head and her very beautiful hair clearly. I could feel her scent, her sweet, heavenly scent. Only once, just once, before having her as a guest here, i had the privilege of seeing her hair completely down; It was so beautiful, like a mermaid, i had to take a deep breath. She looked just like an angel, what could i do?

I mean... I'm me. Rafe. I'm the bad guy, the most hated person of Outer Banks. Not even my family likes me, what chances did i stood with such a pure creature like her?

I didn't knew it was possible for an angel like her to exist in a filthy earth like ours.

Another time, on a saturday morning, when i didn't had to work and i went to Country Club. She was there. I immediately saw her sitting three seats in front of me, facing me, and so i was allowed to observe her for thirty-five minutes. Seeing her always made me feel as if i were capturing a true rarity, as if she was carefully bringing me closer, silently, to a butterfly with very beautiful, diffuse colors. I always thought of it as something indefinable and rare, as well as refined — not in other words, even the most beautiful ones. Words from an authentic connoisseur. I knew nothing about her when she was still at boarding school, except that her father was a doctor and that, as i heard, her mother drank a lot. I saw her mother once in a store: she had a high-pitched voice and it was obvious that, in fact, she was trouble. Cursing at other customers for a bottle of whine.

I later read in the local newspaper that she had won a scholarship, that she was very brilliant, and that she had a name as beautiful as herself: Y/n. I then learned that she was studying art. That newspaper article was immensely important to me, it was as if we had become acquainted, as if we had suddenly become intimate, even though, of course, we still didn't even knew each other. She didn't knew me. But, from the very first time i saw her i knew that she was the only one for me. I never saw anything so dreamy, so gorgeous before. And i'm not crazy, of course, since I knew it was just a dream, which it would always have been if it weren't for the money. I used to daydream about her, making up stories about me meeting her, admiring her, marrying her, and so on. She painted pictures, and I took care of my collection (in my dreams). She liked me as much as she liked my collection, whose pieces she drew and painted; We worked together in a big, beautiful modern house, in a huge room, with a huge glass wall.

We had local group meetings, where instead of saying nothing, for fear of making a mistake, we were the very popular host and hostess. Y/n was always the most beautiful of them all, and the other men never got tired of admiring her... She was mine. It didn't mattered who wanted her. Y/n was my girl, she would always be.

The only times i didn't have pleasant dreams about her was when I saw her with a certain young, pretentious, noisy man. Blond, a bit smaller than me, from The Cut, probably. I met him once, while waiting to deposit some money, and heard him say: “Give me everything in five notes." The check was only for ten, and the guy thought it was funny. He thought he was cool shit. Well, i saw her get into his van several times and, on those days, she was always very unpleasant towards my colleagues in the office. I then refused to mark her initials in my journal of entomological observations. It was on those days that I allowed myself to have nightmares. She would then cry or kneel before me. Once, I even let myself dream that i punished her for betraying me like that. Maybe that was when it all started...

In one of the sunday newspapers, i saw a large advertisement for a house on the properties for sale page. I hadn't looked for that section, but the ad caught my attention when I turned the page. The title was: "AWAY FROM THE CRAZY CROWD?” Just that. I then read what the advertisement said: Country house, old, privileged, charming situation, large garden, one hour from Kildare, by car, two miles from the nearest village. And so much more. The next morning i got in the car and went to see it by myself. I called the agent and arranged to meet his representative. That's what money gives us. It makes everything easier for us... there are never obstacles. I had expected to find an old house, dilapidated and in a terrible state of repair. There was no doubt that it was old. The exterior was black and white beams and stone slabs. The seller was already there when i arrived. I thought he might be a rude old man, but it turned out he was an well-educated type, making all kinds of not very witty jokes, as if it were not worthy to sell anything - and there was some difference between selling items in a store and selling houses. He immediately displeased me because he was very curious. I think I can still say that i didn't go there just to see if the house was in a suitable location for me, but to have a guest without anyone knowing. What we do next always makes us forget what we did before. The guy wanted to know if the house was just for me. I told him it was for my stepmom. We were already going downstairs, i thought that we had seen everything. I was getting ready to tell him that the house wasn't quite what i wanted, that it was too small, to make him feel even worse when he told me that we had already seen everything except the cellar and the basement. So, there was a basement?

We had to go through the back, where there was a door next to the kitchen door. We went down some very dark stairs. The lights were off, of course, but he had a flashlight. The basement was very cold and damp, being so far from the sun. The walls had been whitewashed a long time ago, and the lime had begun to fall off, giving way to mold that accumulated in the dampest places. The cellar continued throughout the house, as he told me, and there was another cellar, a few steps below, to which I was led through a small door. It was even bigger than the previous one having a lower, arched ceiling, like the basements that sometimes exist under churches. “The ideal place for orgies,” he said.

"What is this cellar for?" I asked him, ignoring the fucking stupid comment. He replied that it was thought to be because the house was so far from everything and because in the past it was necessary to store large quantities of food and other reserves. It was even possible that it had been a secret chapel of the Catholic Church. Well, we return to the surface and go out into the garden. When he closed the door, it was as if that basement had ceased to exist. It was as if there were two worlds. And that's what it has been. There are certain days when I wake up in the morning thinking it was all a dream, until i return to the basement.

The salesman looked at his watch.

"I'm interested," — I told him, — "very interested."

I was so nervous that he looked at me with a surprised expression. The man said that he had to go get another client who was also interested in the house, and i told him that i would stay there in the garden and think for a while, to be able to make the final decision. It was a very pleasant garden, with the back part covered in lucernes. Ideal plant to attract butterflies. The field behind the house extends to a hill. To the east, on both sides of the road, the woods extend almost to the town. To the west, more fields. The nearest house is a mile away, over the hill. On the south side it was very beautiful. Despite being somewhat hidden by the trees in the garden and the fence that surrounds it. The garage is excellent.

I quickly got into the habit of closing the garden gate. It was, in reality, nothing more than a little door, but it had a lock. Although i still saw some people peeking through the fence, the local people soon realized that it was better to leave me alone. I was finally alone, and only then was i able to dedicate myself to work.

I used to do a certain number of housework, which my dad had taught me. So, i was able to decorate the basement room very nicely, although saying so seems vain on my part. After adding several layers of felt, i covered in white, which went very well with the pink walls. I furnished it with a bed and a chest of drawers, a table, chairs, etc. The small bathroom that had already been installed by the firefighters was separated from the bedroom by a partition, the entrance to which was covered by a beautiful screen. I also made shelves myself and filled them with lots of art, porcelain dolls, books and novels, to try to give that underground room a princess, Y/n look, which I finally achieved. I didn't risk putting pictures on the walls, as i thought her taste must be very advanced. What was her favorite movie? Her favorite band? I was dying to know. I wanted to know every single thing about her, i wanted her to tell me. To cry in front of me and confess her deepest fears, to laugh in her purest way.

One of the biggest problems was, of course, the issue of doors and noise insulation. I therefore had to make a heavy oak door to separate the two sections of the cellar. I must say this was my hardest work. The first one I made didn't work, and I had to make another one, this one much better. No man could broke into that door, let alone a small, fragile girl like her. It was two inches thick, completely lined with metal on the inside, so she couldn't try to pierce the wood, and it was no joke getting it on the hinges. On the outside, I adapted an open closet with shelves, where i placed some tools, so that, if someone entered the first cellar, the door would be disguised, and no one would even notice that there was another room lower down. Everything was quite perfect and, for greater peace of mind, i installed a small electrical alarm system, in case someone wanted to enter the first cellar during the night.

And despite those preparations, i had never thought all this time that the thing was serious. I used to say, talking to myself, that I would never carry out that project: that it was all a simulation. And i would never have had that idea if it weren't for all the time and money i had. In my opinion, many people who may seem normal now would also have done what i did, or similar things, if they had been given the time and money to do so. I mean, doing the things they want to do, even though they know they shouldn't do them. An old teacher of mine always said that power corrupts man. And money is power.

Another thing i did: I bought a lot of clothes for her. Colors that I had always seen Y/n wear. Makeup, everything i knew she would love. I mean, i thought so. I just wanted my darling to have everything. I took every precaution possible and imaginable.

I got used to going and sitting in Y/n's room, trying to figure out if she could escape from there. I had to make sure she would never leave, i had created the perfect dollhouse for her. Did she liked butterflies? I hope so.

tags: @h34rtsformilli 💕

[saey707]

I’m starving for some hearsteel Yone x reader headcanons😭🙏 literally anything you have I will gobble up PLEASE😭😭😭 either that or poly heartsteel x reader🤭

✿ Prompt: Yone and you take care of yourselves ✿

♡ champion focus: yone ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: Here's some fun self-care headcanons with Yone, arcade! (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭ I really love writing dynamics with Yone because he's so old man, and I think he values the little things with you! Enjoy!

Yone was a very busy man, and you knew that very well. While date nights may be far too few during the touring season and recording days in the studio, you didn't mind! You can make a romantic date out of midnight ramen runs and sleepy nights, cuddling up on the studio couch while you both work.

You get a lot of perks dating Yone... Yeah, totally...! For one, you get a smoking hot older boyfriend who lacks sleep and healthy water-drinking habits! Not only that, but you also get an all-access pass to his creative approach and tendencies to lecture his bandmates! I mean, who doesn't want to hear all the stress your boyfriend has trying to keep his friends under control!

Admittedly, most days, it becomes too much, even for you. But you love Yone and wouldn't change a single thing about him. He was hardworking, loyal, giving... Everything and all you could ever ask from a partner. How could you ever think to leave him, especially knowing if you weren't there to balance him out he would drown?

On days when you particularly noticed how stressed Yone is, you were always sure to take extra care of him. Usually, it involves wrapping him up in a blanket, leaving a bowl of fruit at his desk, or even making him a plain-black cold brew. And you most definitely saw no harm in sitting in silence beside him, occasionally raising your fork to his lips so he could have a bite of a hot meal.

But the one thing Yone valued most was when you reassured him with gentle praises and reminders, smothering him with butterfly kisses and hugs.

"I admit, I am... A bit more stressed than usual. I know he's done this before. But... it just hurts. It hurts seeing Kayn being called out because of a stupid mistake." Yone grumbled, pushing his cheek against the side of your head while you cradled him from behind. "I know... But we're in this together. You don't have to deal with all of this yourself, Yone. We can turn things around... Kayn will be just fine, trust me."

"I know that... And I appreciate it. Trust me. When all of this blows over, I'll take you somewhere nice. Somewhere where it's just the two of us." "You don't have to do that, Yone. I'm happy just being here with you." You interjected, shifting to sit beside him, leaning against his shoulder. He shut his eyes, dropping his head atop of yours. "I know I don't, but I want to... We deserve it."

It's trying times like this when Yone begins to value self-care. After spending days neglecting his personal needs? Yeah, he definitely needed some time for himself... And you.

He doesn't do it only for himself, but for you too. He knows sometimes the weight of his job can stress you out, so he's always sure to treat you well during these times.

For him, self-care is a means of relaxation, but at the same time, it also truly reflects his older age. He doesn't like going out often if he doesn't need to. He doesn't enjoy drinking, partying, or trying completely unfamiliar things.

This certainly doesn't stop you from spending all the time you can with him, and you take immense pleasure in participating in relaxation sessions with him! In fact, you think it's good for you.

He's a sucker for using the internet as a means of self-care! He'll watch J-Dramas on his iPad (and fall asleep watching them...).

Definitely, Yone is the type to splurge a bit on his retail therapy, especially if it means he can find a new matching outfit or necklace for the both of you! ...Or even a nice skirt. Would he look good in a patterned print?

But Yone tends to start his mornings digitally detoxing, allotting time for himself to make a smoothie bowl, meditate, and settle into his day.

"You're laughing an awful lot..." He mumbled, startled when he opened his eyes. You were inches away from his face and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Sorry~ You're just so cute with your eyes closed!" "Oh? You flatter me..." His cheeks were flushed pink, only transforming into a steamy red when you dropped yourself into his lap.

You tilted your head up, placing a kiss on his chin. "Are we done yet?" "You're cute... But no. We still have time on the clock." He informed you, snickering when you let out a frustrated groan. "But we've been doing this for 20 minutes!" you whined, catching your boyfriend's wrists as he raked his fingers through your hair.

"Well, if you finish off these last ten minutes with me, I'll let you braid my hair." He wrapped his arms around you, permitting you just enough time to contemplate his offer, "How does that sound~ Hm?" "... Pretty good, actually! Okay!"

He usually doesn't trust anyone touching his hair, but he can make an exception for you! He knows you'll be gentle. Besides, it's kind of relaxing... And it gives him time to figure out where he should order from. Hopefully, you don't mind eating Japanese food for lunch for the fourth time this week!

When it's time to finally eat, Yone is dedicated, engaged in deep conversations with you, and hungry to learn more about you. And sometimes, you'll get lucky enough to catch him subtly flirting with you... Just try not to point it out!

At the end of your long, relaxing day, the both of you apply face masks on each other, your thumbs grazing against his cheeks. You always envied how smooth his face was... How perfect his skin was in general. Hell, some days you felt like everything about Yone was perfect...

And falling asleep in each other's arms only confirmed how perfect your relationship could be despite all the stress the two of you endure.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

hi mo! i want to wish you a HUGE congrats on your milestone (: you deserve every single follow and like and reblog! your writing is so, so good and it brings me sm comfort if youre still taking requests, can i pls request alfie + “how long has it been since someone hugged you?”

Oh Noni this was so sweet! You are so so kind. It brings me immense joy that my writing brings you comfort. That is the greatest compliment I could ever receive. I’m sending all my love to you darling, I hope you enjoy this.

Guys this is the last request from our 100 Follower Celebration!!! This was so fun and I am so in love with the community we have built here together!!! I’m currently working on our final installment of Interviews for New Beginnings!!! Anyway I love y’all so much, have an amazing day my loves!! - Mo

100 Follower Celebration: Always

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing

“Mr. Solomons. I know you don’t want to hear this… or anything I’ve said the past 10 years I’ve been your physician… but you really need to watch your stress levels sir. It may very well kill you one day.”

Dr. Young had been treating Alfie Solomons exclusively for 10 years. Every stab wound, bullet hole, and influenza season had been watched over diligently by the good doctor. But every month his largest concern was Alfie Solomons’ blood pressure and tension headaches. Unfortunately for Dr. Young… Alfie Solomons was the worst patient he ever had.

Alfie ripped the stethoscope off his burly chest and threw it back at his doctor, “Bah fuck off. Respectfully of course. I’m fine. I’m going to live longer than you mark my words. Stress is good for the body.”

Dr. Young shrugged, there was no use fighting with Alfie. Usually Alfie would see reason and silently beckon and repent right before death came knocking, “If you believe Mr. Solomons. Anyway I want you to keep counting your pulse and recording it. Not that you’ll do it I wager. But I’ll be back same time next week.”

“Yeah, right. See Ollie gives you your fee. And double check with my secretary that your window is still open.”

Dr. Young smiles, “I’ll be sure to let her know that I gave you a task so that she keeps you accountable as well.”

As he walked out, leaning heavily on his wooden cane to offset his heavy medical bag, Alfie hollered after him, “You will do no such thing damn you! Ask her the schedule and nothing else!”

Alfie hears the slight chuckle of his ancient physician behind the closed door. Alfie finally lets out the sigh of relief he had been holding tightly all morning. His head falls into his calloused hands. The slow and rhythmic push and rush of his palms against his eyes and temple soothe the panging and banging in his head. An ache that has been ever present for the past few days. One that hasn’t been aided at all by the lack of water in his day to day.

The past few days have been Alfie’s own personal hell. The Americans’ prohibition on spirits has added another layer of problems to the business. New men had been hired and were not all bright, causing more mistakes than their bodies were worth. Cops were getting greedy, and were needing more to smooth their hands and seal their lips. Usually, a boss would have been able to hand off problems to lower levels. Not Alfie. Never Alfie. Alfie doesn’t get to give jobs to anyone else. No one wants to help Alfie. Alfie is to solve every problem. By himself. If he doesn’t do it, it will not get done. If he doesn’t fix it, everything will fall. But it’s always been like this. Ever since his father passed away, he’s been the man. He’s been the fixer. The protector. The boss. The leader. He alone can do it. He alone does it. He alone. He is alone.

Through the barricade of his stress and rage and sweat and stiff muscles, he hears his door click open, and the soft tap of your feet across the floor boards. Your sweet bell voice tingles his nerves, “Alright Alfie I set up Dr. Young’s appointment next week so you are all settled. This afternoon you have two more meetings. Mr. Yusef and Mr. Edmonds. Also you will need to look over the shipping particulars for the shipment to New York in three we- Alfie are you alright?”

You pause looking at his face. He’s always looked rather scruffy and wild but this was different. His face was gaunt and ashen. His usually ruddy cheeks were pale and covered in a thin sheen of sick sweat. Those bright blue and sparkling eyes looked glossy. If you didn’t know better… they could almost be tears.

You don’t even let him try and explain away his symptoms.

“We’re cancelling the rest of your meetings today. No arguements.”

Screaming. Shouting. Bellowing. The glass in the window panes shake. The wood of the desks bang like the sound of gunshots and canons. “VILE WOMAN YOU TOUCH THAT CALENDAR YOU ARE FIRED DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU BRING YOURSELF BACK HERE NOW!”

You ignore him, calling the other secretaries, having to shout over the bellows and cries of your melodramatic yet beloved boss. The excuse you concocted didn’t matter. You wouldn’t care to remember the story you told. You would deal with it later. What mattered was clearing the calendar to make sure that Alfie could be released from his bindings that he so tightly wound around himself cutting the circulation and breath of peace.

You set the cornflower blue and cream colored tea pot on the little stove in the corner. Gingerly stoking the flame, coaxing warmth and light into a sweet roar. You call for hearty treats from the bakery next door, a good array to settle the spirit of your war laden boss. Soon the tea is ready and the soulful remedies are set. The roaring of the animal in the office has settled into rumbles. It was safe to enter.

Upon entering Alfie is again shouting, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve treacle. I am your boss. I am your superior officer. I pay your paycheck. And you have the absolute fucking audacity to…”

You let the hot words wash over you like a summer storm. You place your tools of healing on Alfie’s desk, swiftly and quietly. You take your spot in your chair across from him, grabbing his worry worn wooden pipe and filling it with his tobacco. Like a dance you’ve done a thousand times, he gingerly takes that pipe from you as he’s still yelling and scolding, pausing briefly to light it and suck in that air like it’s his last meal.

You smile as he blusters on like a thunder cloud. There was no true threat. You would never really be fired. Even if he was cross with you. There was a certain comfort in the noise. Like the storm cloud the noise signified that there was still life and that a calm would soon follow. But there was still the tightness in his shoulders. There was still that look you saw before he started to storm and blow. In a feat of courage you cocked your head to the side, “When was the last time someone hugged you?”

Immediate silence.

“What. What the fuck did you just ask me?”

“When’s the last time someone hugged you? You look like you need one sir.”

His index finger might as well have been a loaded pistol the way he pointed at you, “Men do not hug. I have never been hugged nor will I ever hug do you hear me? Hugged?! It’s even a ridiculous word. I mean… hugged?! No! I don’t want one I don’t need one that is completely and utterly ridiculous!”

You smile, knowing that he would say something like that. As if approaching a wild dog you put your hand out, offering yourself to him. Offering your vulnerability to him. Alfie stared down as thought it held an invisible gun, unsure what it was you held. Carefully and out of practice, he slowly slipped his hand in yours. Cool and smooth fingertips against is hot rough hands. Your hands so easily slips around his, finally finding its home. To Alfie’s absolute shock, he watches as your perfect thumb runs patterns and circles around his scarred knuckles and ornate rings. He watches the way your lashes flutter and soft smile blooms on your face. In a gentle caress to his ears you say, “You know you don’t have to keep it all inside. You can ask for help.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. But doesn’t move his hand away, “I don’t need help.”

You laugh, and he feels his heart skip, “Oh I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure you could run this entire thing by yourself.”

“I could.”

“I know.”

Alfie hums, satisfied that he’s won enough. You sit in silence, the muffled sounds of the distillery and street below being the only signs that you’re still on Earth. Alfie never moved his hand, never responding to your ministrations beyond a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you… for… being here.” Alfie finally breaks the silence. He can’t help the blush that rises to his ears and cheeks. He can’t look away from the smile on your perfect lips.

You nod at him, squeezing his hand and shaking it. “Always.”

[raimoka]

— " (I'M) WAITING FOR THE SUN "

｡ ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: dazai osamu & reader.

SYNOPSIS: it was just a single string, so thin it could easily be cut with scissors, however, with just that mere red thread, it tied you to him.

tags ➜ alternate universe — modern, no abilities, painter!reader, writer!dazai dreams, pining, generally a fluff, soulmates trope, catching feelings, open ending, named reader — only last name though, dazai osamu is bad with feelings implication. ‹𝟹

⋆ author's notes: I wanted to try something new and the first thing that came in my mind was soulmates trope.

send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←

You have always been a dreamer.

Oftentimes you would drift away from your surroundings into an imaginary world, your sense of reality blurring away.

In that world you would feel relaxed, happy and at peace even if it's for merely a few minutes. A world where you could erase everyday from your mind and form an illusion of something you were unable to grasp, a world filled with colors and beauty.

It's bittersweet.

And although it's painful knowing these are nothing more but surreal fantasies, hopes and dreams it's worth it in the end.

However—as of late, your daydreams changed into a one singular daydream that, for whatever reason, keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Day or night, in the painting room or in the peace of your room, whenever you close your eyes, be it a ten minute nap or eight hours of sleep the same scenario will play in front of your eyes over and over again.

Sun will shine its way through the grass as your fingers brush against your creamy white lace dress. Birds will sing their song to which you'll hum under your breath as the fruity smell of just bloomed flowers lingers in the air.

You'll sing and dance and laugh as if you're the only one in the world.

Then after a while you'll approach a big cherry tree in bloom, and suddenly you won't be alone anymore. There, in front of that very tree, will stand a person with chocolate colored brown hair carried by the wind, wearing a white button up shirt along with black trousers.

They'll look in the distance, seemingly unfazed and each time and even after twenty times you've seen the ending, you would approach them slowly when—as if on cue the person will turn around and you would freeze up at your spot, your heart skipping a beat because in front of you will stand the most beautiful human you have ever encountered. For a moment, they'll lock eyes before they vanish into the air, leaving no trace behind.

Then you'll twitch, snapping back to reality.

bleary and cloudy, immense hues of darkness lay hold of your sight, then as the starch gradually settles to the bottom and the skim rises to the top, at last your eyes wearily open—unable to remember his face.

It's as if when their eyes lock everything fades and your brain stops. It's weird and the more times it happens the more annoying it gets.

The person in your dreams feels familiar yet so out of reach. Like you've known them your entire life but hasn't even met them yet, as if the two of you were tied by a red thread of fate.

His presence is strong. Unique. Strange.

You can remember the way the smell of carnations surrounded him, the way his chocolate colored brown hair rode on the breeze, the way they were so tall you almost felt embarrassed standing near him but you can't, for the love of god, remember their face.

You feel their stare on your face. You know that your eyes lock each time and that each time they do your heart skips a beat. You know it and yet you can't pinpoint even the most obvious things, like their color.

You want to know more and everytime that you feel like you're getting closer to discovering something, you would get pulled out of the state of unconsciousness, snapping you back into reality.

It was as if it was mocking you, laughing at the anger it was giving you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, hands balling into a fist.

You ha—

The sound of wood splitting in half brought you back into reality, disrupting the scrambles of thoughts beginning to form within your mind.

huh ?

You lift your head, met with the sight of your paintbrush splitted into two. The other half of the paintbrush falls, accompanied with the sound of thud.

Your lips, which were previously formed into a thin line, parted.

"nazoki, did you just break your brush?"

you tense up. you feel everyone's eyes shift to your frame, hushed whispers accompanied with snickers filling the room. sweat builds up on your hands as the giggles continued, and you bit down on your lip, hovering your gaze on your thighs.

"It can be easily fixed but remember, that's not your own and you need to learn how to be careful with the brushes."

meekly, you dipped your head in response.

"yes ma'am..."

❀

It was already late when you arrived back home.

The sun had gone down, and the skies embraced by hues of warm colors had turned into vast of blackness already.

You didn't change out of your clothes, with the fatigue beginning to overtake your body, you didn't bother to do so.

You gently unlocked the door to your room and slipped inside.

you were greeted with pure abyss, which was anticipated since it was already night. however, there was still some disinctive things within the shadows, like the books sheltered on the shelves, the roses in the vase on the nightstand, and the paintings in the corner of your room.

you perk up.

you moved, walking towards to the empty canvas at the corner of your room.

In front of you, you laid down an empty white canvas and some newly bought paint from few days ago. without a second thought you started painting. You didn't know what you were going for just yet but you settled on just letting your hand move freely across the canvas.

One stroke then another—you paint sky, petals and a silhouette.

So far it's turning pretty decent but the more you draw the more anxious you became. The brush in your hand starts shaking as you reached out to paint the silhouette's face.

...

What now?

Cold sweat runs down your face and you had to take a moment to snap back to reality. Suddenly your stomach fills with dread and you had to take a break from painting.

The face. You couldn't remember the face.

You didn't finish the painting that day.

❀

There is no need for you to open your eyes because when you came to your own senses, feeling grass beneath your palms as the sun beams directly in your face, you knew exactly where you were.

Despite going to sleep in a bad mood you can't help but feel strangely relaxed now that you're here.

Slowly opening your eyes, you sit up and took a look around. Nothing, as far as you're aware, has changed. It's still the same dreamy place you visit everyday (sometimes even multiple times).

Birds are still singing, the sun is still shining and the flowers are still blooming.

After a short walk you find out the unknown person is also still here, simply staring at the distance.

You freeze in place and simply admires them from afar, staring at their back profile.

They stand there unbothered.

You take a big risk of walking up to them—not too close but not as far in an attempt to get a better view. Nothing.

You're scared.

Then you get a crazy idea.

Now you're terrified.

Quickly, before you get a chance to make a cowardly decision and back up, you ran towards the person and grabs their wrist, not giving them enough time to turn around.

First thing that you felt is warmth. Their skin is warm.

You lift your head head and meets their face that is now painted with a shocked expression, lips parted. When your eyes meet you felt fear, surprise, shock, happiness, anxiety all at once because you've finally caught them.

Then all emotions swirling within your chest dulls and the person slips away, disappearing from your grip once again.

❀

First thing, you did when you woke up is rush towards the canvas and frantically attempts to copy down the face, that expression of surprise and alarm, as similar as possible before eventually it too leaves your mind.

However it doesn't turn out anything like you've seen just a few moments prior. The expression on its own looks pretty amazing and the face is really unique, not quite like anything you've drawn before, but it's not his.

Shit.

Why? why couldn't you do it?

You were so close and yet—

You slipped up.

You didn't get it. You needed to remember. You didn't know why.

All you knew is that this person drives you crazy.

❀

Surrounding you, there was variety of pages of papers, canvas, multiple art supplies.

You pull out canvas after canvas messing up, repainting, scrapping, breaking, trying again, over and over again but nothing feels right.

Before long, what little memory of the person's face is left in your memory vanishes leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your chest. You fall to your knees, gripping the paintbrush in your palm firmly, cursing yourself. Why? Why couldn't you remember?

It continues like this for a while. After every nap you would pull out your sketchbook, which has by now found its new place under your pillow, and try to sketch the face but each and every time you'd be met with another failed attempt.

It felt like a curse of some sort. Wanting to remember but not being able to. Wanting to know but not being able to meet. Wanting to understand but not being able to learn.

You've tried many different ways. You tried jumping him. You tried running into him. You tried approaching him slowly. Sometimes you'd lock eyes with him, sometimes he'd disappear the moment they establish physical contact. You'd sketch day and night but you just couldn't nail it.

Slowly but noticeably a pile of crumpled up paper in your trash can started increasing. So far you've ruined three canvases and wasted almost an entire sketchbook which gave her an confrontation from your roommate, both from the trash and the one canvas you borrowed from her.

"If you need canvas, please just buy one for yourself. I'm gonna get scolded by my mother."

"the trash can in your room is starting to overflow with trash... some of the trash are even on the floor already, please dispose of them if you can. I don't know what you're trying to do but you should give it a little break, it doesn't seem like you're getting anywhere either way."

you've apologized multiple times for it, but in spite of her intentions being different, the painful truth behind her words pierces through your heart like an arrow. You weren't not getting anywhere that much is right but she's trying.

you were trying so hard because for the first time in a while you had a goal set in mind.

That night you didn't bother the guy. Instead, you sat down leaning on that big tree watching him stand just a few meters ahead of you.

You haven't given up of course but god you were tired. you sigh, releasing the tension in your body, closing your eyes beneath the tree's shadow.

You didn't know what you expected but someone snapping you out of your thoughts you sitting next to you was not it.

For a moment, you were too scared to look aside because this is a rare opportunity and you couldn't mess this up and yet at the same time you could wake up at any moment so if you were to waste this it would eat you up from inside for days. Anxiously, you moved your head and catches sight of the brown haired individual's side profile. It's the sight so dazzling you suck in your breath and bites your lip and just stares.

Every time you visit, you noticed a small detail you haven't before. Like how they shift from one leg to the other when the cold breeze brushes against their concealed arms, you wondered if it was really that cold for him, or how messy his hair was, you could've presumed he didn't take care of himself.

Today, you notice his eyes are shimmering brown, bright and full of life, no . they weren't full of life, they were filled with pure abyss, barely reflecting any source of tiny sparks. He was tired, lonely, and empty. You wondered how long they spent in this realm. Does he have a home? What's his story and how did he end up here? Just now after you take a good look at them, you started questioning all those things. Up until now all you knew was that they were here each time you fell asleep and that your face gets red and your heart skips a beat whenever you get near.

For the first time that you stared at them for more than two seconds, you started noticing all the little details. His bone structure, every single lash on his eye, even how messy his hair was. You take a mental note of it and stares for so long that you didn't even realize he might've feel awkward until they cough and move their face to the side, hiding their face a little bit further with the locks of his hair.

"I'm sorry."

You speak up slowly.

You wonder if he was even real.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Silence. Heavy, uncomfortable, cold, suffocating silence.

He gives her a side eye but don't say a word. You, not knowing how to react, just stares. You stare back, drowning in their eyes, not even realizing how close they've gotten to each other.

You have drawn many portraits of many different people up until this point in your life. The beauty of it all is that every person is different, unique and beautiful in their own way. Each painting you did is special because it's not like any other. That's, in your opinion, the beauty of this world. Even now, this person that might be nothing more than a fragment of your wild imagination is unlike any other you've met.

They are so beautiful it made you sick. Not just their physical appearance but their aura and their company. The way when their hands touch it sends an electric shock through your body or the way you get all warm and fuzzy inside when you were near him.

you swallowed down a thick saliva, forcing yourself to speak again, you didn't know what you were gonna say but with the tense atmosphere between the two of you, you wanted to ease it up, thus allowing the words in your throat to carry out.

"Hey."

The boy shifts his gaze towards you upon your call, moving his head along his gaze. You feel the hue of light red beginning to adorn your cheeks as soon he turns his head to your direction.

You fidgeted with your fingers, "You're a very pretty person."

You could feel his stare on you, but he didn't utter a single word.

"When I say pretty, I don't mean it just at that... you're so pretty that I could be with you all day just to watch the cherry blossom tree's bright pink light glow on your skin and how it brings out a million subtle sparks of color in your eyes, and In the evening, I could draw you all night long until I have no more strength, and when it's finally night with the moon, I could close my eyes to remember the day going by as a reflection of you."

as you spoke, you couldn't help but notice how close your faces were with just a few centimeters apart from each other. you two were so close, It distilled a warm fuzzy feeling within your chest.

"you're quite talkative."

for once within several dreams, he finally uttered a single word, and just the mere sound of his voice made you speechless. he leans his head slightly closer and you couldn't help but think that your faces will crash. you were sure your faces will crash and you're scared if they do the universe as we know will explode but the world collapses before you could get a chance to blink and suddenly you were panting in the pitch dark of an all too familiar room.

❀

They say everything comes with its good and bad sides so you presumed the same must go for this entire situation too.

If it were up to you, you'd say the good thing is you finally finished your painting. After so much time and effort you have finally created something you're satisfied with.

Bad, or rather unfortunate, thing is that the next time you went to sleep you didn't dream at all. At first you thought it was a mistake so you pulled her blanket over your frame and went to sleep again despite the morning sun desperately trying to climb on your bed through the closed windows and your roommate gently knocking on your door.

Nothing.

After a few more times of not being able to wake up in that imaginary world of yours, you started to freak out a little. It was understandable though. When you spend so much time somewhere, so much that it turns into a habit, it's only natural to get worried when it abruptly stops with no sign whatsoever.

For now you'll just have to learn to adjust to your new reality.

❀

It has been a year since you last dreamed of that dream.

you struggled to accept the truth, occasionally glancing at the painting you've finished right after your last dream. however, as time passed by, you managed to divert your attention to much more important things, slowly forgetting the world you would often dream off.

you didn't know whether you liked it or not but you supposed it was fine since a lot of great opportunities were beginning to appear to you.

"That's why nazoki-san, we would love to invite you as a guest artist for our next gallery showcase!" Words were ringing in your ears like an echo. There were thousands and one emotion flowing through her body. Excitement, joy, disbelief, anxiety and so much more.

Finally, It's finally happening. You couldn't help but think to yourself. All that hard work and effort is finally paying off.

When you got a call from a nearby gallery asking for someone with your last name, you presumed it was for your mother, a professional artist who had few of her works showcased there, that's why the first thing you felt when they said it's you they needed was confusion.

You've been drawing for years, joined many different art courses and took many drawing classes, participated in many events but getting an offer to have some of your work showcased in a big, professional and well-known gallery for one of their events was something new—a step closer to achieving your dream.

Of course, you didn't hesitate and swiftly agreed to the offer.

It's only when it came time to choose your best work you got a tad uncertain about which paintings to pick.

You decided to go for one landscape drawing, one abstract and one portrait.

Choosing a landscape and abstract was easy, you simply chose your most recent work, a work which, by chance, was seen by her classmates and some teachers and received tons of compliments.

Choosing a portrait was a bit harder though—there was just so much diversity between your models you'd feel bad choosing one out of many other, just as beautiful, ones.

You dig through the canvases in an attempt to find a perfect one when your hands suddenly brush against the beige fabric pulled over one of the canvases, hiding it from view.

A drop of cold sweat rolls down your neck as you uncover the familiar painting. It's still the same as you left it a year ago.

When your dreams stopped you felt as if you lost a part of yourself. Being unable to face the painting you worked so hard on, you ended up covering it up and leaving it to collect dust in the pile of canvases.

Even now when you looked at it, a part of you feels like sinking but the feeling of dread is easily outshined with the feeling of nostalgia and warmth.

you decided which portrait to bring to the event.

❀

More people have visited the event than you had originally planned, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Almost. All the praise you got made up for it.

You would be lying if you said you didn't like to be praised. You loved the words of affirmation, to hear someone from a higher level acknowledge her efforts and make sure you're on the right track.

You were silently lurking in the crowd the entire day, starting conversations when you'd get the chance, giving speeches about her art.

You talked and talked, over and over again, repeating what you've already said over twenty times by now and every group so far would listen carefully. Seeing them genuinely interested in your work made it all worthwhile.

Soon enough, night fell and people started leaving one by one, saying their goodbyes. It's a shame that the day has come to an end but if you're lucky maybe you will get more chances like this in the near future.

"nazoki-san!" One of the gallerys workers approaches you, "Would you mind picking up your work? I still have some guests to see off."

"Alright! Thank you so much again!" You bow down your head before you make your way to the hall where your work has been showcased up until now. It was a part of their agreement that when the event is over you'll get to bring your paintings back home.

When you step foot into the room, however, you find you weren't not alone. Almost like a deja-vu, in front of her stands a familiar brown haired person with their back turned towards you, in his hand, he held a book, it seemed like he was looking for some inspiration.

Your heart sinks.

Immediately, you stop in your tracks.

How?

Blood in your veins freezes as the cold sweat starts dripping down your face. It can't be…could it?

"E-excuse me-e—" you tried to speak up but your voice breaks in the most embarrassing way possible.

The person twitches in surprise, turning around with a startled expression on their face and it's the same damn expression you saw that day when you first grabbed their hand. you swear it is. It has to.

The person points an index finger to himself, tilting his head to the side, "Me?" as soon as you heard that voice, you knew damn well it was.

For a short moment their eyes lock. It's the same chocolate colored eyes holding the same lonesome warmth and oh you want to rush towards them at full speed and tackle them to the ground but youi calm yourself down and continues to talk, "We're closing."

Your voice comes off stronger and steadier this time but the hint of nervousness can still be distinguished.

"Oh… I'm sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."

So much happened today. You talked a lot, you walked a lot and on top of that you woke up early with only three hours of sleep the night prior, perhaps you're just imagining things. Maybe you're daydreaming again. But his voice sounds so real and you can see them so vividly even with you vision blurry from exhaustion.

There is so much you wanted to know, how, why, what, when, huh?? you heard stories about people's dreams coming true, about how some met people in their dreams but you never imagined anything so…extraordinary happening to you. But here you were with so many questions lingering in your head and so little time so you decided fuck it no matter what happens this time, no matter what kind of story your faith is writing, whatever happens in this timeline you weren't letting them go again.

The chocolate haired person gives you a warm smile, although, It looked a bit forced, you didn't say anything as he turns back to glance at the painting in front of them one last time.

"I was just thinking about how this painting looks a lot like me."

Your knees buckle up underneath you.

Weak .

you felt weak.

but you couldn't even focus on that, all you could focus on was how the person you've been longing for was indeed right in front of you.

and with that, the interlude halts.

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