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luvf4ngz · 18 days

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Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly.

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention.

"You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed.

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him.

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was.

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.”

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?”

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention.

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice."

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied.

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now.

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle.

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen.

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch.

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event.

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things.

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned.

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?”

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance.

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest.

This was a much better use of his time.

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast.

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands.

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page.

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you.

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.”

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?”

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body.

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.”

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this.

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!”

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand.

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing.

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.”

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes.

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm.

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist.

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming.

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher.

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping.

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out.

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter.

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you.

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation.

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one.

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly, and he never wants to stop hearing your voice.

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?”

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body.

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you.

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed.

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers.

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame.

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins.

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud.

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face.

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub.

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could.

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths.

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason.

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him.

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you.

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard.

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him.

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you.

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break.

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue.

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins.

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia.

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew.

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in.

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole.

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore.

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small.

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his.

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips.

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh.

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again.

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt.

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms.

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over.

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat.

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask.

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers.

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language.

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting.

He’s…. big.

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance.

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists.

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter.

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again.

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother.

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside.

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos.

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him.

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.”

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble.

“Isn’t it?” He grins.

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock.

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come.

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body.

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust.

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins.

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat.

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls.

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once.

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp.

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body.

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder.

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.”

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred.

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him.

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly.

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

#sumi — dc.#sumi — my love.#sumi — works.#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #dc x reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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nerinefy · 10 days

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A LIFE WITH HIM ; FT. some OVERBLOT BOYS .𖥔 ݁ ˖

★ synopsis: how will they be like as your partner?

★ details: you/yours | headcanon | too much fluff | 1,000+ words

✦ ┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ not too big on PDA, so expect that the most skin-to-skin contact you two can have outside is the occasional hand-holding. he likes it when he's the one initiating the gesture whenever you two are out and about since he still can't help but have the need to be in control even after his overblot (like leading you to places and making sure ur still by his side).

★ he doesn't admit it but he loves when you link your arm with his and nuzzle your face into his shoulder (although he will still scold you if you do it) ESPECIALLY when he's in a mood and is almost about to off the heads of some rule-breakers OR maybe when you're giving too much attention to a rando because he may not admit it but he's greedy and wants your eyes on him only (but he's a gentleman and will never speak about it, only dismissing his inappropriate thoughts.)

★ in private though he's just a snuggly little cuddle bug, even more so if he's tired or stressed or most likely both. so many responsibilities are piled up on his plate just in his second year so the only thing that keeps his shit together is your warm and loving embrace. HE'S A SMALL SPOON. NO BACKSIES, okay maybe he's a big spoon if you're the one who needs a little more loving.

GIFT-GIVING

★ i mean from the name itself ROSEHEARTS, roses are his go-to (he's corny but we love him like that), but if you have a different favorite flower then he'll get those, and if you're allergic he'll try to make those handmade ones! although a little sloppy, pretty successful for his first try. overall he likes giving the traditional gifts like bouquets, stuffed animals, and chocolates :) but if he gets to know you more it might be more personal and intimate stuff that fits your tastes, and of course, should be of use to you too.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever you're stuck on a study session late at night he likes inviting you to take a break and brew some tea for you. he'll even share some sweets that Trey gave him. although he won't leave you alone after he finds you like that, instead he pulls out some reviewers he has and helps you work on whatever you find difficult to understand.

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Our race is nowhere near finished, so please my rose, stay strong, I know you can and want to do so. I am always by your side okay?"

✦ ┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ hugs, hugs, and MORE HUGS. just lots of hugs! doesn't matter if he's a big spoon or small spoon, he needs you by his side 24/7, 365. he just has to have his scent all over you u know, half-breed things. this man is just lazing around anywhere so might as well bring his favorite pillow with him. and no, he doesn't care if you have class and need to take a test worth half your grade, he needs you more! ★ of course, he doesn't have long-ass hair for nothing, go be his peasant and brush it, most preferably with your fingers if he's having a good hair day. your soft fingers massaging his scalp are quite literally going to take him to heaven, and he'll have no regrets tho so go pocket something if that happens. ★ he doesn't pick favorites when it comes to giving and receiving physical affection, he just wants his hands all over you and if the job is done then he's good.

GIFT-GIVING

★ honestly man, i don't know with him. he's raised right so of course he gives you stuff like flowers and so on. on the other hand tho he isn't the type to know what you like and will most likely just ask you what you want him to give you. maybe he'll just take you to go fetch them at the store itself if he isn't sure. but on special days like your birthday or your anniversary (assuming ya'll would last more than a week), he actually tries and it's pretty sweet and more elaborate.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever he's forcibly on a call with his brother, which surprisingly is turning into a regular thing, if Farena asks about how he's doing, Leona likely ends up only yapping about you. i mean yeah he missed his last test and he spent his allowance for the month in a week but does Farena know about the time you were mumbling Leona's name in your sleep? he will deny it if he's called out for doing so. NO, HE DID NOT PERIOD. *hangs up*

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Whatever you're thinking of, don't. It's stupid. As much as I don't like admitting this, you're strong, and even more than most beastmen if you set your mind to your goals."

✦ ┊AZUL ASHENGROTTO

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ man's busy all the time so it's hard to get your hands on him. even if he's not busy, he will sprint for his life just to get away from you. not that he dislikes your affection, the concept is just a little foreign to him. give him time to adjust, then you'll find out how soft his tentacles are! ★ when he's actually busy and working on stuff in his office (when the time comes and he's comfortable) he likes it when you flop yourself on his lap and nuzzle into his chest. he feels guilty that he can't give full focus to you since his schedule truly is packed but you inviting yourself into his office at late hours of the day just to snuggle comforts and assures him in some way. he'll definitely find more time for you, he's trying his best lol! ★ overall he isn't one to initiate the touching even if he's fully vulnerable for you. idk too ask him about it. he's just happy you like him enough that you cling unto him. but if you ask him he may favor hand-holding the most, it may be the least contact but feeling your hand on his is enough for him.

GIFT-GIVING

★ HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. i'm not even kidding, even when it's no special day he'd likely buy stuff just because it reminded him of you or when you coincidentally need it which is pretty cute but can be a little creepy.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ i saw a fic back then that said he gives you some coupons and by some i mean a TON in hopes that you visit the Lounge and that is absolutely true. though he forgets you two are together and he can ask you nicely to come over but who can say no to 30% off all menu items?

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "My, how could I ever deny what that cute head of yours and those strong arms of yours can do! You are a valuable asset to me...what kind of asset? Well...it's up to you to decide."

✦ ┊JAMIL VIPER

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECIEVING)

★ he's also busy, honestly might be one of the, or if not the busiest of all of these guys. when you two have time to be together tho, even if he's knocked out and drained, he'll never show it. but i can say that's only during the early stages of your relationship with him and depending on how you two met. he likes to present himself in his best state and he really can't do so with his schedule so eventually he just melts and the next thing you know he's hugging you from the back any chance he gets and you feel his heartbeat turn slower by the minute. ★ for those moments that he sees you out and about though he likes patting your cute lil head, no matter what your height is. though he is trying to be a little adventurous with you so he leans in to caress your hair gently and suddenly you're met with a quick smooch. (only when there's no one else in sight so yeah adventurous my ass) ★ like leona, he loves it when you play with his hair, and he does not like to admit it. just remember to keep it neat and use a brush while you're at it, plus a facial and maybe a massage because i know those muscles are TIGHT.

GIFT-GIVING

★ his gifts reek of HANDMADE. idk he has those vibes. handmade flowers, or some origami of cute animals, but he likes giving you handwritten letters the most. it can be hard to communicate his real feelings to you so writing is a way for him to freely and easily express those feelings.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever he cooks for Kalim or just whenever he cooks, he suddenly has some leftovers that he decided he'd pack up for you. can't bring himself up to say that excuse so he just gives it to you and walks away.

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Whining is useless. Do the things you're good at, stop worrying about the things you can't. Oh, I'm sorry...did that come off too harsh?"

★ author's note: congratulate me for coming back. BASK IN MY GLORIOUS PRESCENCE. (i missed u guys too ig)

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charliemwrites · 2 months

Text

Mafia!au part 5!

A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!

“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”

His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.

“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.

You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.

“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.

He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”

You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.

“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”

You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.

“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”

His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.

“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.

“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”

He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”

“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.

He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.

“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.

You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.

“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”

You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.

“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”

He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.

“I apologized. Profusely.”

And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.

“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.

It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.

“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.

Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.

“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.

“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.

He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.

He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.

“Come try it yourself,” he protests.

You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”

He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”

You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”

In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.

“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.

The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.

“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”

He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.

“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”

He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.

“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”

It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.

“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”

You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”

“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.

You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”

“Ta, love.”

“Oi, li’l miss?”

You glance up at Soap curiously.

(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)

Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.

“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.

It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.

Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.

“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”

“’Course,” he replies instantly.

You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.

“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”

He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)

“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.

You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”

He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.

Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.

“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”

“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”

He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.

“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”

“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.

“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”

“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”

Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.

“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”

You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”

And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.

“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”

You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.

“Hey, we’re not—”

Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.

You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.

“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.

He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.

“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.

“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”

He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.

“The hell was that about, lass?”

You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”

Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.

“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”

“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”

You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”

Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”

You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”

“Anytime, li’l miss.”

The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.

“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia boss price #mafia!au #assistant!reader #oddly wholesome for a mafia au #john price x reader #john price #john soap mactavish

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lesbianslvt666 · 10 months

Note

ellie has a huge crush on a flirty classmate who always wears very short skirts and one day they get together for a physics assignment and ellie asks the reader into her room and things get heated between them, something like ellie fucking the nonstop reader for hours straight omg 😮‍💨

Thinking thots rn

Not proofread

This was hard for Ellie, eight am classes were proven to be quiet the difficult task lately.

As soon as you entered the classroom your pretty scent illuminated and clouded all her senses.

Today your skirt was even shorter than the last one. You gave her a pretty smile and sat down to your now official seat.

To right next to her.

For the past two years Ellie had been hiding this little crush she had on you, at first it was easy, having only one class with you a week and with you seating to the opposite corner of the classroom, always paying attention and sometimes talking to your friends.

Ellie was in trance as soon as she saw you, pretty face, beautiful hair that seemed to change almost every month. And those skirts, good Lorde give her straight.

Ellie wasn’t the only one who notice how every semester your skirts got shorter and shorter, however she was always trying not to be a creep, keeping her eyes from wondering too long and trying to pay attention in class.

Just like today. Physics was one of Ellies favourite subjects, and DR. Lasky was her favourite professor, still, she hadn't heard a thing until now, the whole classroom booing at him.

"boohoo! Is your fault, none of you are paying attention to my class, therefore, I'll be the one to pick each other's partners!" his mischievous smile while saying that made Ellie and you chuckle at the same time, both looking at each other in surprise and when you caught her eyes, both turn back to look at the Lasky.

Warm cheeks and fast beating hearts connected.

This always happens at class, somehow both of you speak at the same time or laugh at the same small details. It made Ellies mind go wild and as Dina once told her "bitch you delulu" while rolling her eyes when Ellie told her you had said the same answer as her at the same time.

"okay, I'll do this with closed eyes" he picked two random people from the list of students and wrote them in the whiteboard.

One pair, two pairs.

Your name.

Followed by hers.

"fuck" she said under her breath, not looking at you.

"so I need this finished by Friday, today is… Tuesday second, so…" he said writing in big bold red letters "Friday 5th" I won't receive any, and I mean it! Homework after this date…" his voice steady while picking up his things, the assignment written beneath the date.

"hey, umm… Ellie right?" you pretty voice fogged every outside noise. She looked to where you were sitting, and to her surprise you were closer to her, leaning on her chair thinking she could hear you better this way.

Her blood flush from her neck to her ears, you were so close to her…

"yeah, that’s… um, that’s me!" she said with an awkward smile that melted our heart… and your panties…

"look, I was thinking if maybe we could start today? I have to finish another assignment for the week, so, it would be a relive if we could finish this first" your rant was followed by a sigh that ended your sentence and Ellie could picture you in other ways only with that

"yeah, um sure, like right now its fine? This was my last class of the day so…" her eyes fell to your legs again, she couldn’t stop herself, she wanted to squeeze them hard…

"umm, sure, I just… I do have another class, 'tsa short one, but if you send me your location I get to your place as soon as I am out, you have my number right?" you told her hurriedly, trying to get to your next class as soon as possible.

"yeah, yeah I have it, I texted you some study material the other week so…" she was a bit disappointed you even asked…

"perfect, fuck.. Umm, see ya' Ells. And um… text me your location!" your words hurry and your demeanour apologetic. You were sorry you had to leave her like that, but you'll make it up to her…

When Ellie arrived to her place she sent you her location and left her phone on her bed, she was kind of disappointed at how awkward she was around you.

She put some music and cleaned a bit, she wanted to give you a good impression, but her cleaning session was cut short when she heard the doorbell.

She opened the door to a smiling dripping you, clothes so wet they were sticking to your skin, your white shirt letting her know you weren't wearing a bra.

"hey… can I come in? is cold out here…" you said apologetically, soft smile clouding your features.

And she let you in, taking your bag and dragging you to her bathroom.

"let me get you a towel, and some clothes" she tossed you a towel a bit harder than she intended, the cloth falling in your head which only made you laugh hard, her cheeks went bright red, you looked spectacular…

"what, why? What happened to you?" her voice muffled by rooming around her closed trying to get you something comfortable to wear.

"one of your shirts is fine, I mean, it's only you and I right" you told her when you saw her compare her clothes, trying to find something that would fit you, due to her being taller than you.

She looked back at you, you were taking your clothes off without a second thought, fuck…

"so basically I went to my class and as soon as entered the classroom the teacher called on sick, I thought of getting something nice for us to eat but it's raining in the city right now so before I could get to the restaurant I like to order take out, the rain washed me over, so yeah…" you took Ellies shirt from her hand, she was looking at you and you didn’t mind.

As on queue the heavy droplets of water started to poor down, the sound relaxing to you.

You seamed clueless to Ellies crush on you but you truly did noticed, how she always looked at your legs, or at your breast, that’s why you always sat beside her, how you waved your hair a bit when you sit down, how you cross your legs in a way she could easily see you, how you always gave her something to think about… and now, how she was eating you all…

So you didn’t mind giving her a show…

Sitting on her bed while looking at her, she travelled to your eyes and shied, oh not right now…

"look at me Ellie…" you didn’t expecting your voice to come out so needy, and Ellie followed your command. You opened your legs for her, her shirt covering your nipples riding up until your panties were at her focal point, she almost fell to her knees.

"can I taste?" her voice somehow seemed more demanding than yours, as if both papers were inverse.

She was making it hard for you, hard for you to resist. Your hand travelled to your covered tit, toying with your nipple. "yes Ellie, fuck…" her hand now touching your lips on top of your underwear, she was going to go insane, the fabric so soaked with your sticky essence, tight on your cunt.

The hand that was on your boob made its way to her face, grabbing her by her chin and pushing her down to her knees, her face in direct contact with your heating pussy.

"don’t be shy now angel…" she took the words out of your mouth because she latched on to your clothed cunt, sucking on it through the cottony material.

You were squirming, moaning her name shamelessly, you knew she lived alone so you didn’t hid from her, how good she was making you feel.

She took your panties off and without wasting another second she went back to her place, the place where she belongs.

In between your thighs.

And she sucked and pull and massage your pussy for what it felt like hours to no end, the pleasure was getting too unbearable, a glowing feeling at the pit of your stomach signalling you that you were about to cum. To Ellie, the signal came from your twitching cunt, how you were closing on nothing, clenching empty.

So she gave you what you needed, one finger in, your pussy sucked it all the way, your moans filling the room and the squelching sounds mixing with it. Ellie felt high, the way you said her name while harshly pulling on your tits, face relaxed, eyes shut and mouth wide open.

While fingering with her tatted hand she took your face with her free one, veiny fingers guiding you to where she wanted you.

right beneath her.

"open your eyes angel" and so you did, you mouth still wide from the pleasure, and she took it as an opportunity, a glob of spit falling form her pretty lips to your hot tongue.

Your eyes rolled back on your head, how fucking dare she be this hot…

One orgasm, two orgasm, one water brake.

"so, I was thinking, maybe we could continue this until the rain is over…" you said sitting on her lap, both completely naked, glistening thighs from both of your wetness…

She smiled at you, her arm hugging you at your waist making you giggle. She unlocked her phone and opened the weather app. "here says that the rain will be over till tomorrow eight am" she said, smirk spreading all over her face.

this was shorter than expected... sorryyyyyyy

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #lesbian #the last of us #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #modern au #college au #loser lesbian #ellie smut

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phantasmagoria-in-neverland · 7 months

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COD Characters and their Love Languages.

A\N: Call Of Duty requests are now open!

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, König, Alejandro Vargas, Phillip Graves.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Give: Quality Time.

Simon struggles with showing his love, and how much he values the few he truly cares about. Most days he's really not too big on physical touch, he's not great at expressing his feelings through words, and he finds gifts to be too frivolous of a way to show you how much he loves you. What he knows exactly how to do is give you his time and attention, he's not used to it, you're genuinely the only person he would spend all day with, but he can do it.

Usually, Simon is very picky about how he spends his limited free time, but with you? It doesn't matter at all. The two of you can do whatever you want to do, (and even if he might grumble about it, he truly means whatever) even if it's something he wouldn't usually like. His only requirement about the activities is that he wants to be with you, but other than that, anything that makes you excited is his favourite activity.

Whether it's you sharing a hobby of yours with him and explaining the process to him, or you talking about something you are passionate about, maybe the latest book you've read, Simon remembers everything you tell him. He might not speak much during the conversation, but he listens, and he never forgets a single detail.

Receive: Acts of Service.

Similarly to the way he shows you love, Simon doesn't require you to shower him in affection, although he will always appreciate each and every single time or way you show your love for him. But still, Simon is all for subtlety, for small things that prove that you care for him. Even better if they are unconscious gestures you do without having to think about it, like making sure he is taking proper care of himself, bringing him something to eat when he’s too focused on work to remember, or subtly checking up on him if you notice him being too quiet. Although he doesn’t like making you worry, he still appreciates that you do, because to him it shows just how genuine your love for him is.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Give: Physical Touch.

Johnny quite literally can't get enough of you, he would glue himself to you if he could, and he doesn’t hold himself back at all from showering you in affection.

Oftentimes, his touch can be a little rough, no matter how gentle he tries to be. Whether it’s a kiss, a hug, or even simple handholding, his touch is anything but delicate, Johnny tries to pour all his love into every single act of affection, and more often than not he doesn’t let go until you ask him to. He’s all for PDA, he doesn’t care where you are or who is looking, why should he keep his hands away from the love of his life?

Johnny is always down for some cuddles or some playful roughhousing, as long as he can be close to you he’s alright with absolutely anything, and if you're laying or sitting down, expect him to drape himself over you.

Receive: Gift Giving & Physical Touch.

Johnny loves knowing that you think about him even when the two of you aren't together, so every time you buy something for him, especially if it is an "It reminded me of you" type of gift, he will literally melt. The price of the gift, or what the gift itself is doesn't really matter to him, it's the gesture and the meaning behind it that he finds important, so he will treasure whatever it is to the end of his life.

He probably has a collection of soap themed things you've given him, and he absolutely loves it, it's his pride and joy. Loves when you gift him things he can bring with him while he’s deployed, like a bracelet he can fidget with when he misses you, a polaroid of the two of you that he can keep in his pocket and stare at to remind him of what’s waiting for him at home, or a patch that makes him think of you.

Johnny loves showering you in physical affection, but he also loves receiving it. No matter what kind of touch it is, he is always going to adore it, he just needs your hands on his skin, but he has a preference for those soft, comforting touches he never knew he needed until you came along. He loves when you let him lay his head on your lap as you gently run your fingers through his hair; He loves when you massage his shoulders on those days that he is exhausted, even when he says he’s fine and insists he should be the one to take care of you; He loves when the two of you shower together, helping each other wash away the events and tiredness of the day; He loves when you plant sweet kisses on his lips or cheek when you pass by him, for no reason other than the fact that you feel like it, because you love him.

John Price

Give: Acts of Service & Words of Affirmation.

This man would do anything and everything for you if he could, he doesn't want you to lift a finger or think about anything while he's with you. He wants you to be able to completely relax, to turn your brain off and trust that you are in capable hands. Everything is taken care of before you can even begin to stress about it, and he's not above treating you like royalty. John also likes to help you through the bigger, most tiring parts of life, whatever you need him to do to make you feel better, he’ll do it without question. If work or school are stressing you out, he’ll do anything to help you relax, from cooking for you, to running you a bath and washing your hair for you, to taking care of the house and the groceries, to making sure your working environment is quiet and tidy. He will ask you if there is anything you can delegate to him, and will insist on doing it for you.

On the same note, he will tell you how much he loves you all day everyday if you want him to, and each time will be as sincere and heartfelt as the one before, honestly, he would do it gladly. He isn’t shy with his words, and he never lets you forget how much he appreciates you and everything you do. He never stops reminding you how strong you are, how good you are doing, how invaluable you are. You are his whole world, and he is so incredibly proud of you and your achievements; He is proud of you even when you are tired or struggling, and he never lets you forget that even just the fact that you’re trying is more than enough, no matter what anyone else says.

Receive: Quality Time.

Give him all the time you can, and your full attention, and this man is going to wonder how he could get so lucky. The fact that you take time out of your day to dedicate yourself to him, and that you listen to him no matter what, even if he's rambling or saying something inconsequential, is something he endlessly appreciates. And he never feels as loved as when he stops talking and you ask him questions, let him talk more, with an expression on your face that shows that you care, that you are truly listening. When he tells you something, maybe in passing and without even expecting you to listen, and you remember it, he ends up looking at you in wide eyed surprise, he never gets used to how much you care about him.

It's not often John gets the chance to indulge in his hobbies, so seeing how eager you are to do them with him, even if you don't share the same passion for them, has his heart melting, especially if you’re the one to offer something he likes as the day’s activity. He would have no problem spending your time together doing something you'd prefer to do, or even do nothing at all, but it's the fact that you care to see him happy and in his element that never fails to make him feel incredibly loved.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Give: Quality Time.

You are his safe haven, when he's with you, he feels like he has finally a moment to breathe, to reconnect with the most human part of himself. He forgets that he's a soldier when he is by your side, he's just himself, and nothing else exists except the two of you. When you are together, no matter what the two of you are doing, he's completely focused on you, his phone or any other distraction completely forgotten. He could talk to you about everything and nothing until his voice gets hoarse, and he would still count the minutes until you'll get the chance to do it again.

Kyle knows exactly how short life can be, especially his own, so he never takes the time you two share together for granted. If he knew he only had five more minutes in this world, he would choose to spend them with you without hesitation. For him, your time together could consist in you doing your own thing, and him just following you around, and he would still be the happiest man in the world.

Receive: Words of Affirmation.

There's three things Kyle adores in this world: you, your voice, and the way you care for him; So when you mix all of them together, he is the happiest man alive. He loves when you whisper sweet nothings into his ear, especially when it’s late at night and you are holding each other, and anything outside of your bedroom disappears.

It doesn’t really matter to him if it’s words of love or encouragement, he just loves knowing that you care, that you notice when he is upset, that you know when a situation is stressful even when he doesn’t complain. And most of all it’s the fact that your words are a reminder that you always have his back, no matter the circumstances or what the world throws at him. You never let any of his achievements go unappreciated, even when he tries to brush them off as unimportant, or not enough, you remind him of just how far he has come, how much he has faced to get where he is, and how difficult the road has been, and you remind him that despite it all he never stopped fighting, he’s much stronger and far more capable than he gives himself credit for, and the fact that you notice that, that you are proud of him, it’s truly something invaluable to him.

König

Give: Acts of Service.

What König does for you is a little more subtle than what Price does, but it’s not any less meaningful, or any less constant. You are in his mind all day everyday, and he wants nothing more than to show that to you, even when he can’t quite put it into words. So he does a dozen little heartfelt things for you everyday: he brings you your favourite drink at the time of day you usually drink it; If you need to get something from a store he's already out of the door and rushing to get it; If you have something that needs to be repaired he'll gladly do it for you, to the point that he pretty much renovates your house given the time; He always shares his food with you, and insists you take some if you don't reach for his plate yourself; He always gives you his jacket if you're cold, his shoes if yours are uncomfortable, and he carries your bag for you so that your hands are free.

Everything he does for you, König does it gladly and with a lovesick smile on his face, he loves being able to take care of you, and he gets so proud of himself whenever he can make something easier for you, or make you smile.

Receive: Words of Affirmation.

König doesn't require many shows of affection, he's not one for grand gestures anyway, and he always notices every little thing you do that proves how much you care about him. But he can get a little insecure every now and then, especially because of how amazing he thinks you are, at times, he ends up getting stuck in his own head and wondering how someone like you could ever love someone like him, so words of reassurance are very important to him.

Tell him that you notice his efforts, that you see how hard he always tries to make you happy, and tell him how much you appreciate all of it, and he'll try to make you feel loved with even more enthusiasm than before. Tell him how handsome you think he is, especially when he takes his mask off or when he feels awkward because of his size, and you'll actually manage to make him blush. Tell you how wonderful you find him, how he is amazing just the way he is, usually those types of words would be appreciated but not necessarily taken to heart, but König trusts you, and could never doubt your honesty, so after a while your words will actually begin to stick.

In the end, all König is afraid of is that one day you'll decide to leave, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself without his one and only by his side.

Alejandro Vargas

Give: Physical Touch & Gift Giving.

The way Alejandro gives you physical affection is a bit more subtle and also more suave, he's not the type to completely drape himself over you the way Soap is, but that doesn't mean he's any less touchy. He always finds a reason to touch you in some way, from brushing your hair behind your ear when he notices it falling in your face, to placing kisses on your forehead, to having his hands on your hips or inside your back pocket (if you're comfortable with it.). But he doesn't have to necessarily touch you directly, Alejandro is more than happy with any type of closeness. He'll kneel down to lace your boots for you, help you buckle yourself when the occasion requires, if he notices the sleeve or strap of your shirt falling off your shoulder he'll gently use his fingers to put it back up, and he absolutely insists on doing your hair for you in the morning. He'll always sit down next to you, or stay by your side for as long as he can, not being shy with his love for you at all, not even in public. He's so proud of you, he wouldn't want anything else than for the whole world to see him by your side.

Alejandro lives for the way your face lights up when he gives you a gift. His gifts can be quite literally anything, and they can be either really small or really big, but they will always be thoughtful. He buys you things he knows will have meaning to you, they can go from something big that you've been eyeing for some time, or to booking you a trip when he knows you need a break, or a very expensive piece of jewelry that reminded him of you, to something much smaller but still meaningful, like buying you food when you're hungry, or bringing you your favourite flowers and chocolates. Either way, it's his way of letting you know that you never leave his mind, that he cares about you and remembers what you like, and that he'll always take care of you.

Receive: Acts of Service.

The easiest way to speak right to Alejandro's heart is to take care of him as well. It doesn't have to be anything big, even just coming home to you having cooked dinner for him, especially if you remember his favourite foods, or you taking care of the chores for the day so that he has one less thing on his mind, means a whole lot to him. He thinks you're an absolute saint when you remember where he leaves his stuff, or when you get his clothes ready in the morning so that he'll be able to sleep for a few more minutes, or when you notice he needs a new deodorant or something similar, and you get it for him when he's too stressed to remember it himself. Prepare him breakfast in bed, and this man will immediately go down on one knee and ask you to marry him, or renew your vows.

Alejandro is a Colonel, he has a lot of responsibility weighing down on him everyday, and a lot of people that count on him, so having the chance to come home to you and relax, leaving his worries at the door for a few hours, is more than he could ever ask for.

Phillip Graves

Give: Gift Giving & Words of Affirmation.

Phillip can't stop himself from spoiling the people he loves, in his mind, they deserve everything in the world, and why wouldn't he give it to them when he knows he can provide that? And when it comes to you, his overindulgence is almost unbelievable. He would give you the world if he could, so anything less than that is no big deal for him, no matter how much money it requires. He tries to satisfy each and every one of your whims, to the point that you can't even mention liking something, and he will find a way to give it to you. From a fancy dress, to a luxurious trip, to the house of your dreams, there is nothing he will not give to you. Honestly, he might seriously consider a way to give you the moon if you asked him to.

Phillip works, and has worked, so hard for the money he has now, and in his mind there is no greater demonstration of love than to take care of you with the fruits of his labour.

He never lets you pay for anything, ever, you are his partner, and it is his duty and his pleasure to take care of you. At some point in your relationship, Phillip will suggest you stop working entirely, unless your job is something you really love doing, he knows how stressful work can be, and there's no need for you to go through that when he can avoid it. What's a greater gift, a greater show of love, than giving you all the free time in the world, and the freedom to do whatever you want without worrying about a single thing?

Phillip isn't shy with his words, not at all, and he can be quite the charmer. He will list every single thing he loves about you if he sees you feeling down, and he never fails to tell you just how perfect you are, how good you are doing, how proud he is of you. He will brag about your achievements as if they were his own, with so much passion behind every word.

He always reminds you of how attractive he finds you, whether you're dolled up or in your nightclothes, he will tell you how stunning you look, and he absolutely means it. He notices every detail of your appearance, and he compliments all of them, how beautiful a shade of a colour looks on you, how flattering what you're wearing is, how pretty he finds the way you've styled your hair.

He'll talk loudly and proudly about you to anyone willing, or unwilling, to listen with as much love as anyone will ever see on his face. There is no way he'll ever let you feel unloved or unappreciated, when there is no one worth more than you in the world.

Receive: Physical Touch.

Phillip associates physical affection with you being proud of him, and of being seen with him. He's very fond of light PDA and sees it as a way for you to say: "Hey everyone, this is my man.". But it doesn't always have to be public: button his shirt for him in the morning, brush your fingers through his hair, hold his hand and rub gentle circles on the back of it, and he will absolutely melt in your hands.

He especially loves when you initiate physical contact, especially when it comes to kisses and hugs, and he doesn't waste a second to reciprocate them. There's no feeling he adores more in the world, than feeling needed and loved by you.

He is all for classic affection like walking arm in arm with you, but honestly, he welcomes any type of affection you want to give him, and every single time he gets a half smug half lovesick grin on his face. Nothing gets him to relax, or makes him feel as loved as your touch does, it's probably the only thing that can get him to calm down after a rough day, and he'll forever be grateful for that.

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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Hello🥰 It's not a request per say, but I'm really curious what's one of your favorite Joel headcanons if it's ok to share it now? Your writing is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!

Jules, I am so glad you asked this question. I've been dying to just talk about the things Joel Miller enjoys.

(Also, thank you so much?! It means the world you enjoy my writing! <3)

Starting from the top, shall we? Pre-outbreak Joel Miller, well..

He's reserved only to people he doesn't trust. If you don't know a thing about Joel Miller, you better bet Joel doesn't like your ass.

Worry not about miscommunication—that's a word his vocabulary lacks. Whatever he feels or not for you, he'll make it known. Unless you're his old neighbors, Joel has no qualms about keeping shit to himself. He'll just say it.

His mouth got him into trouble when he was younger. Often.

It's why he learned to react in his mind first, speak later. Too bad his face gives away his feelings anyway.

Speaking of feelings... Joel Miller is a romantic. Big, big time. It's why he's single after all these years and Sarah's mom — "if it ain't the right thing, I don't want it."

Joel's not scared of being alone because he likes his own company. It's why he values so much when he finds another one he enjoys, too. He appreciates real connections. Good conversation.

Hates small talk. Will not do it. Will get away with doing it 9/10 times.

Blood is made of caffeine, sandwiches, and take-out food, which is why...

He's a whore for home-cooked meals. He gets by on his own, but he doesn't have the heart for cooking. Tommy got those genes. Joel would sell his soul for home-cooked meals everyday, and he'll say it to whoever hears it.

Workaholic only because he wants to put Sarah through a good university, but when she complains about the lack of time she has with her father, he compromises. Hires more people, tries to balance work and Sarah.

Balance is not really his expertise. But Joel's good at compromising. Rationalizing. He's a man of structure, of building things from scratch—he knows the value of firm, solid base.

Not really a sports kind of guy, actually. He'll watch it, but... Shrugging it off. "I don't see what the big deal is over a ball. I mean — it's fun, but damn. Breaking windows and busting fists on walls ain't my thing. Not over a damn football, at least."

On the other hand... history buff. Over the strangest, weirdest, most specific topics. Joel has trouble naming three countries in Asia, but he can tell you in details everything about Mayan construction and their society. Go figure.

He's a man of taste. Good food, strong alcohol, fruit picked from the tree, and woman who let him sink to his knees and taste them 'till he's drunk on it. He's starving, quite often.

Joel's a tease.

He can play a game of chicken all night long. No fucks given about how hard he's straining in his jeans or the beads of sweat trailing from his nape down his spine — if you touch him when you two are out, he will make you live to regret it. To whine and cry his name.

Joel loves a playful thing. Seriousness is imbedded in his bones, he loves a person that can make him laugh.

His sense of humor is... peculiar.

("It's shite. You're sense of humor's the same as a fifty-six year old man, Joel." "You say that and yet, you're laughin'... how does that work, beautiful?")

You know his taste? His sharp tongue, his clever brain and quick fingers? Yeah... it makes him a cocky bastard.

Everything Joel has of insecurity, he equals in cockiness once he knows his person's attracted to him.

Reciprocity's big on him.

Joel pays attention to details. He'll remember the outfit you were wearing the day you two met 'till the day he dies, which is why he knows when he's in deep from miles away.

Loves being surprised, exactly because of this ^.

Joel loves through gestures, through words, through action.

Love language is touch, touch, words of affirmation, touch.

Never gonna half-ass anything that matters to him. Never.

Will play to you when he decides to confess his feelings. Will sing his heart out, even if he’s not that good at it (his words), will make himself vulnerable and open like a wound if he thinks he’s in safe hands.

One in a million. Joel’s one in a million and when the right person comes along to appreciate it, Joel only glows. Only glows up, and gets finer with each passing day, like a great wine.

(If you’d like me to do post-outbreak Joel, I could..)

#usernexusnyx #joel miller drabble #joel miller headcanon #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine

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threadbaresweater · 3 months

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parent teacher conferences are coming up and i'm praying a man like hiromi shows up and falls in love with me

hi, this was supposed to be a little daydream but I got carried away. this concept is full fanfic material. bless your beautiful mind, anon.

You've been talking with parents all afternoon, going over each student's progress, highlighting their strengths and weaknesses. You've argued a couple of times with some particularly opinionated parents who insist that their children aren't being challenged enough, or whose children are disruptive in class (contrary to what they say they're like at home). As you're scanning the list to make sure everyone scheduled has come, your eyes fall on one name in particular that never bothered to show.

The Higuruma kid.

You sigh, letting your shoulder slump forward in silent disappointment. She's a bright young girl- top of your class, reading at two grade levels above her peers, working through middle school math equations and making art that a college grad would envy. you knew her father to be the top defense attorney in the area, so it came as no surprise that he would have a child so brilliant. Tonight was an opportunity for you to tell her parents everything they probably already knew, but it would have been exciting nonetheless. you were sure you were almost as proud of her as they were.

The clock on the wall creeps past eight, so you start to tidy up. As you're filing away the last of the papers, your stomach calls for attention and you reach for a granola bar from your desk stash and cram half of it in your mouth just as you hear a breathless voice at your door.

"Am I too late?"

You look up, cheeks full of oats and honey, and your eyes go wide at the tall, lanky figure nearly falling over himself as he enters your classroom. His dark hair looks like at some point today it might have been meticulously styled, but now it's disheveled as he runs a hand through it, his deep brown eyes offering you some kind of silent plea for just a minute of your time. He's wearing a well-made suit that somehow looks too big and too small at the same time, tie loosened, the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

"Hiromi Higuruma," he offers, stepping forward to offer a hand. When you accept, his fingers are cool and a little damp, but his grip is strong and confident. Your eyes light up, and you muster a tired smile after swallowing the rest of your snack.

"Ah, Mr. Higuruma! I thought maybe you'd forgotten about our meeting."

"I'm sorry. I– work. It's always work," he says, and you realize that he's had to excuse himself probably dozens of time for his erratic schedule. "I usually ask my wife to come to these things, but she's got her own thing going on these days. Uh. Ex-wife, I mean." He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks go pink. "Divorce is still fresh. Haven't really gotten accustomed to that yet. Sorry. Sorry, I ah..." He trails off, leaving you to pick up and change the subject.

You wave him over to have a seat at your desk. "It's alright, you don't have to explain. I'm just glad you made it. I wanted to sing your daughter's praises, because she really is doing a wonderful job."

He positively beams at you, leaning forward, hanging onto each and every word you say, nodding along as you detail all of her achievements. His gaze is intense, his eyes locked on your face so completely that it makes you feel a little hot under the collar. When you look up to meet his eyes, emphasizing key points of his daughter's progress, you have to pause and swallow around the dryness in your throat before continuing.

"So, um, as you probably already know, she's gifted. Extremely so. I'd like to place her in our accelerated seminar. It will give her, ah–" you clear your throat, watching the way his lips curve into a genuine smile, how his eyes seem to shimmer with tears. "Uhm, give her a chance to really grow and thrive with other students like her."

You take the last few minutes to explain the process- there will be further testing, then placement based on her cognitive function, though you know she'll score high in all the areas. When Higuruma signs the consent forms, you watch the strong, confident stroke of his hand as he weilds the pen (left-handed, you observe), his long, agile fingers, the way his suitcoat rides up past his wrist in a disheveled, endearing way. You wonder if his ex-wife ever paid attention to the fact that his clothes were ill fitting, or that the bags under his eyes were as dark as his hair.

"Thank you, Mrs, uh–"

"Miss, actually." Oh God, your face is hot. You give him your name, and he nods, pressing a finger to his temple.

"Right. I'll remember that." He digs around in his breast pocket and produces a business card. Sleek, simple, elegant, with just his name, email address, and phone number. At the corner is a tiny graphic of the scales of justice. He reaches for the pen and flips the card over to scrawl another number on the reverse side of the card before sliding it across the desk to you.

You pick it up, and he must pick up on your puzzled expression because he chuckles, rubbing the side of his neck. "If you need anything else, please call. And... thank you. For taking such an active interest in my daughter. It means...more than you might know."

"It's my job, Mr. Higuruma."

"Please, call me Hiromi." Call me, he thinks.

You nod. "Hiromi."

#higuruma x you #i have the BEST tired lawyer anons #higuruma x reader #jjk x reader

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astroice · 1 year

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random astro observations pt. 2🍡

this are only a bunch of observations based on my friends and family, so take what reasonates and leave what doesn’t

Highlights: cancer, moon, gemini, rising, 4th house, scorpio, mars, saggittarius (a lot), stelliums, 8th house, virgo, aquarius, taurus, pisces, leo

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Cancer moons are NOT crybabies, they are so strong and give up a lot only for other people. They tend to feel anything and everything at the same time, extreme sensitivity. They have a special ability comforting their special ones.

Gemini rising often find people commenting about their eyes, they’re absolutely all the focus of their face. Whether big or small, they are VERY beautiful. (My mom and I are Gemini rising and people always comment ‘wow, what big eyes!’ it’s a bit weird sometimes)

Mars in 4th house is one of the most difficult placements. It means anger or issues around the family and home life. Lots of them are awfully honest abt life and I get kind of a vibe of daddy issues

Scorpio Mars can hurt very deeply only with words and their anger is often is accompanied with a lot of pain. It depends of how you hurt them but they can resent you for years and even take revenge but that also depends of the rest of their placements

Saggittarius Mars are… argumentative? I say it in a good way. If you don’t agree with them, prepare for a 5 hour ted talk, they’ll give you a list of hundreds of the facts they support and why they’re the best way to think

Venus in Virgo people over analyze their relationships A LOT. They want people who see small details in them and help them to be better in the interior. They might not be most romantic sign but they really put effort in relationships so they get to know you better and give you the love you need

Sagittarius Placements cover their feelings with laughter and humor, they don’t want to be seen as emotional or well, as humans. They try to be optimistic against all problems so they don’t fall into sadness. People describe them as funny but they really need a hug

Taurus Mars they always react calmly and understating to any argument or situation, their patience is also very strong so they usually don’t get angry. Very good parents and communication although their stubbornness might get them lost

Pisces Stellium have a strong bond with spirituality and dreams. A lot of their lessons come from dreams. They have a special connection with music and express themselves artistically. They almost always are good with instruments especially drums.

Leo Moons are usually the center of attention without trying. Whether you are good at school, arts or sports but they’re definitely the spotlight

Libra Venus they have really a kind heart. When someone catches their eye they’ll do whatever they need to do for impressing them. They are HUGE flirts and dream of a love book relationship. A friend has her libra in venus and a guy took advantage of her making her do things she didn’t wanted but it was “a proof of your love”. So people often take advantage of their passionate love

Hope you liked it!

I appreciate comments and questions ❥

-Lua

#astrology #libra #astro notes #astro observations #astro chart #stellium #pisces #cancer #moon signs #gemini #mars #gemini rising #4th house #scorpio #saggitarius #witchy #baby witch

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craftingcreatures · 6 months

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Today I want to talk about the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus (Octopus paxarbolis).

OK, so for those who don't know, the PNW Tree Octopus was an internet hoax created in 1998 consisting of a website detailing the animal's life history and conservation efforts. It's completely fake - saying that up front. This animal never existed.

But if you look at this from a speculative biology standpoint? It's genius.

There is one, and only one, thing preventing Octopus from colonizing and being hugely successful in terrestrial environments in the PNW, and that's the fact that no cephalopod has ever been able to overcome the osmotic stress of inhabiting freshwater. We don't know why this is; other mollusks evolved freshwater forms just fine. But if you hand-wave away that one, single limiting factor, the PNW is just primed for a terrestrial octopus invasion.

The Pacific coast of North America is an active tectonic boundary, meaning the coast transitions pretty much immediately into the Cascade and Coastal mountain ranges (contrast with the east coast and its broad Atlantic plain). It's also a lush temperate rainforest, with very high precipitation. This means lots and lots of high-gradient mountain streams with lots of waterfalls and rapids and cold, highly oxygenated water, and not as many large, meandering rivers.

This has important consequences on the freshwater fauna. For one, there are not many freshwater fish in the Pacific Northwest - the rapids and waterfalls are extremely hard to traverse, so many mountain streams are fish-free. There also just isn't much fish diversity in the first place - there's sturgeon in the big rivers, salmonids, a few sculpin and cyprinids and... that's pretty much it. These cold northern rivers are positively impoverished compared to the thriving fish communities of the Mississippi or Rio Grande.

Few fish means few predators, and depending on the size of the first freshwater octopus, salmon and trout just wouldn't be much of a threat. And while these rivers don't have much in the way of fish diversity, there's lots of prey available - crayfish, leeches, mosquito larvae, frogs and tadpoles, water striders, and other aquatic insects, just to name a few. So the first Octopus pioneers to invade the rivers would be entering what essentially amounts to a predator-free environment with lots and lots of food and no competition. Great for colonization.

These ideal conditions get even better once you get up past the rapids and waterfalls, since there's no fish whatsoever in those streams. Octopus, with their sucker-lined arms, are perfectly equipped to navigate fast-moving, rocky-bedded streams and climb up cliffs. They'd also be well able to traverse short stretches of dry ground to access even more isolated pools and ponds. In fact, once Octopus overcome the osmoregulation problem there's nothing at all preventing them from colonizing land in earnest, since the PNW rainforests are so wet; there's no danger of drying out.

Finally there's the question of reproduction. Octopus are famously attentive mothers, because they need to keep the water around their eggs moving and well-oxygenated. In a mountain stream, this wouldn't be an issue, because the cold, turbulent water holds lots and lots of oxygen. Breeding in high mountain streams would be ideal, and the mothers might not even need to attend to their eggs, freeing them up to evolve away from semelparity and allowing them to reproduce more than once in their lives; their populations would thus increase rapidly and dramatically.

I think, if octopus managed to invade freshwater ecosystems in the PNW, it would dramatically change the ecology much like an invasive species. They'd be unstoppable predators of frogs, bugs, slugs, maybe even larger animals like snakes, birds, and small mammals. Nothing would eat them except maybe herons, and things like bears and raccoons would give them a wide berth due to their venom. They would rule that landscape.

The tl;dr is that the PNW is primed for invasion by cephalopods, if only they could manage to overcome the osmoregulation problem and live in freshwater. If the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus really did exist, it wouldn't be a shy and reclusive species on the brink of extinction; it would be a pest, an invasive, overpopulated menace you couldn't get rid of if you wanted to. I can just imagine them crawling up onto people's bird feeders and either stealing the nuts or luring in unsuspecting sparrows and starlings. They would sit in the trees and throw pinecones at hikers for fun. They would be some unholy mixture of snake and slug with the personality of a magpie and I am incensed that they only exist in fiction.

#long post #octopus #speculative biology #speculative evolution #spec bio #spec evo #pacific northwest #pacific northwest tree octopus #truly a shame that there are no freshwater or terrestrial cephalopods

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therealcocoshady · 21 days

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Dating Marshall Mathers HCs - Love languages edition

Author’s Note : Hey Stans 🥰. I am a sucker for Eminem Headcanons so I decided to give it a shot ☺️. Let me know what kind of HCs you’d like 👀. These HCs are based from the vibe I get from him, from his music, appearances or interviews - I might be wrong though, or you might disagree. Or not ? Either way, let me know what you think ❤️

Acts of service

On some things, he is a bit old-fashioned and he will see some things as « his job ». He knows you can carry your bags or put that Ikea shelf together yourself. Doesn’t mean you have to.

Absolute gentleman. Contrary to what he says he has manners. He just doesn’t overdo it.

He is pissed when you ask for someone else’s help instead of his

« Why didn’t you ask me ? »

Also annoyed when you don’t ask for anything at all

That being said, he hates asking for help

As much as possible, he will do his best to make your life easier with small gestures like :

Picking you up at the airport // Driving you to and from work if he can

Having your favorite food delivered to you when he is not there and he knows you are too lazy/tired/sick to cook

Taking care of you when you are sick, tired or simply having a bad day

Making sure his pantry is stocked with your favorite drinks and beverages

He enjoys helping you when you are cooking/cleaning…

Once he is comfortable around your place he will even do it unprompted

Gifts

Might be his least favorite love language

He enjoys giving gifts far more than he likes receiving them

He is very hard to shop for anyway

What do you get for a man who has the means to get everything he wants for himself ?

He is grateful for gifts but he is not really the materialistic type

He low-key doesn’t believe he deserves gifts anyway

When he gives you a gift, you can expect it to be meaningful and thoughtful

He pays a lot of attention to details

Or it can be something you mentioned you needed

Big, expensive gifts are for special occasions

Just because he has the means doesn’t mean he will gift you a Chanel bag on a random Thursday. Sorry.

When he splurges, he doesn’t half-ass it but it doesn’t happen too often either

Before he buys you something expensive, you have to be together for a while

Trying to win a woman over by spending money on her ? Yeah, not for him. He is too scared of gold-diggers.

Also, if you have a fight, he might try to suck up to you with a gift or a bouquet even though he is the first to criticize how shallow gifts can be

When he is away and doesn’t see you for a while, he might arrange for a surprise delivery, to make you smile and also make sure you don’t forget about him (as if it were possible)

Physical touch

He is a bit guarded at first, so much so that you start doubting that he actually likes you (« Surely, he would have made a move by now… » - nope that man is just slow)

If he actually likes you, he makes it a point to behave like a gentleman and he will try and pick the best time for a first kiss or even simply holding your hand for the first time

Great kisser.

Not a big fan of public displays of affection (for obvious reasons)

If the two of you are ever spotted together, people might mistake you for a member of his team because he will not even get caught holding your hand

That’s partly because he values your privacy at least as much as his - he doesn’t want his girl to get harassed or bothered

However, when it’s just the two of you, he is all over you

Whenever the two of you spend time together, he enjoys having physical contact with you, even if it’s just holding your hand while watching a movie

Definitely makes up for his busy schedule with physical touch.

Quality time

Probably his love language of choice

Overall, he is really mindful of your schedule and appreciates that you respect his

If you don’t, it’s not going to work between the two of you anyway

Most of the time, he is punctual and he will not show up late to one of your dates

If it happens, he will profusely apologize and make it up to you

Might get a little pissed if you do (but he knows that girls will be girls and you are most likely late because you wanted to be extra pretty for him)

He has a hectic schedule but he if he loves you he will make time for you

Him making time for you is actually one of the telltale signs he actually cares about you

If you are as busy as him, he really appreciates that you manage to make time for him

No phones rule during your dates

Like, seriously, it’s a huge red flag for him if his date spends too much time on her phone instead of enjoying the moment

Speaking of phones… He doesn’t text you too much. Instead, he tries to find moments when he can call you and have an actual conversation.

When you are talking, you have his full attention

He pays attention to everything you say and and do, even when it doesn’t seem like it

He remembers everything

He enjoys hearing you talk about things you are passionate about

If it’s something he is not too familiar with, he asks questions and he might even make an effort to do some research of his own, just so he can keep up with you

And in turn, he really appreciates if you do the same

Doesn’t seem like it at first, but he actually enjoys a good conversation. Even if you’re gorgeous, if you’re not interesting… Hard pass.

He also gets really talkative if he’s talking about a topic he is passionate about. Like hip-hop culture, pop culture, sports… He will talk your ears off. And he likes talking about it with you.

Even better if you are able to have an actual debate with him. He might not agree with you but he respects someone who can stand their ground and have actual valid arguments.

Because you might not be able to spend too much time together sometimes, he will do his best to make your dates special

As your relationship evolves, he includes you in some more mundane activities, just to enjoy more of your company

Don’t expect to spend too much time at the studio with him. He keeps his work and personal life separate.

That being said, he might invite you to spend time with him there once or twice. And it means a lot.

Words of affirmations

We all know this man has a way with words

When he praises you or compliments you, he means it

A perk of dating a dictionary nerd : he chooses his words carefully

Never a dull compliment

He is a great motivator : when he encourages you and tells you you can do it, you actually start believing that you can

He is good when It comes to giving words of affirmation but receiving them ? Nope.

When you compliment him, he gets a bit awkward and doesn’t know how to react

That being said, he enjoys it

Compliments he enjoys the most are not necessarily the ones about his professional skills or physical appearance but genuinely about his character

Any fan could tell him he is a great rapper or that he looks good. But having his girl tell him what an amazing person she thinks he is and being specific about it ? YES.

Basically, just show him that you care about him (the real him)

With how guarded he is, it might be some time before he actually says « I love you »

It might not come with a big declaration either. Just « I love you ». Simple.

Definitely catches you off guard the first time he says it, with a super casual tone.

However, when he says it, he means it

He leaves you small notes, too

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagine #eminem fluff #eminem headcanons #marshall mathers headcanons

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angelcent · 1 year

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𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃-𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐉𝐀𝐌

cw. implied age gap (nothing specific, sukuna is just older and divorced), food, established relationship, alcohol

thinking about big bad older boyfriend sukuna who shows affection with cooking of all things. first, it takes a few months of dating before he even allows you into his personal space; and when he does, your eyes widen at the sheer size of his pristine and expansive kitchen. high ceilings, marble counters, state of the art appliances, an array of culinary knives. like the rest of his penthouse, it's a tasteful mix of traditional and modern design.

your boyfriend is a wealthy and busy man, you had expected him to have a team of chefs who’d be preparing your dinner tonight. instead you see sukuna rolling up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms and the twin bands inked around his wrists. the ones in his left hand are partially covered by the watch you recently bought him.

sukuna is deft with the knives, smoothly chopping up vegetables and fresh herbs with ease; then he begins to lightly season the ribeye steak, carefully rubbing the spices into the meat. you shouldn’t find it so attractive, but your eyes are transfixed on his big hands; on the tattoos across his knuckles. only someone like him can make preparing dinner look so sensual. maybe it's the dim lighting, painting the room with intimacy.

you don't notice how long you've been staring until vermilion eyes meet yours, and he smirks arrogantly. “make yourself useful, dove. grab a bottle from the that closet over there. any red.”

the fact that sukuna has an entire small closet filled with wine bottles doesn't surprise you, but it's still impressive. you choose a full-bodied wine, knowing that he has a penchant for the viscous taste.

when you return, the kitchen smells like melted butter and roasted herbs as he sears the steak. "leather for you, right?" he chuckles, referring to how you like your meat cooked.

you snort, setting the bottle down on the dinner table. "sorry i don't like my steak mooing at me like you do." you notice that the table has already been set, and the attention to detail has uraume written all over it. "but yes, medium-well for me, please. it smells so good!"

"normally i wouldn't give a shit how a guest likes their meat cooked," sukuna murmurs, preparing your dishes to perfection. "but you're the exception, little lamb. for you, i'll bend."

butterflies flitter around inside your belly because you understand the weight of sukuna's words; someone like him would never bother saying something he doesn't mean. he's yours as much as you are his. he's referred to you as his spring, a new beginning after the bitter cold of the winter that was his marriage.

my morning light, is what he murmured into your skin when you first confessed your love to him.

the dinner he's prepared for you tops the countless five star restaurants that he's taken you to, but maybe you're just being biased. you realize that you're not though, once you sit sown and bring your fork to your lips. the food is delicious, carefully cooked to perfection and made with hands that hold your heart.

sukuna looks divine, almost regal as he drinks the blood red wine. he swirls it carefully before taking sips every now and then. he doesn't ask what you think of the food or if you like it—he knows. still, you feel the need to tell him, to gush at how talented he is and how much flavor is in every bite. he laughs in amusement, so you think he doesn't mind.

the wine is buzzing in your veins by the time you two are finished, and your limbs are loose as you get up to settle on his lap. his thick arms wrap around you as you litter kisses along the edge of his jaw. you continue up, kissing the lines of his face and you run your fingers through his peach and white hair. slowly, his hands settle lower on your hips, giving your ass a rough squeeze.

sukuna's mouth almost salivates at the thought of dessert, of the nectar between your thighs.

#oh he's so sexy #not edited #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #starring: sukuna

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matenrou-fan · 1 year

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Beel pamper his fem! s/o after a long day

The second part of @yarnnerdally 's request!! Hope you will enjoy it, honey…! <3

femreader, massage, oral (receiving);;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

Sometimes you wonder if Lord Diavolo's program with exchange students actually works and Devildom actually starts changing, getting closer to understanding humans..

Because you were absolutely drained after your work, when all your co-workers tell you it was absolutely a normal shift here. Well, maybe for some kind of succubus or just demons, yes, but definitely not for you.

As you get inside House of Lamentations, you almost immediately feel a luring, delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Yet it was pretty late, everyone was already finished with their dinner, weren't they..?

'It's probably Beel…' - this thought makes you smile a little, as the face of your boyfriend always cheers you up and you hurry up to meet your precious glutton.

And when you get inside the kitchen , feeling a light wave of goosebumps from such a warm temperature inside, you actually see him, standing near the stove with furrowed brows and a really concentrated face. Did he try to not just give up and eat everything?

"Honey, I'm home.." - your small giggle distracts him from cooking the dish and Beel turns to you with slightly widened eyes.

"Oh, s/o..! Welcome.." - such an adorable smile plays on his lips when he gets closer, embracing you in a tight hug as he always loves to do. And, as you always love to do, you nuzzle to his big chest, slowly melting in his warmth.

"No, stop it, Beel.." - you smile softly, pulling away. - "I'm too tired today, if you continue to hug me like that I will fall asleep right here in your arms.."

".. Was it so bad?" - his raised brows quickly drop, furrowing, as he looks down at you with a more worried expression.

"Well, I'm just not used to such intensive work, I think.." - with a small sigh you sit down, looking with interest at a bunch of pans and pots. - "Is this all for me?"

"Oh, of course..!" - Beel suddenly remembered about his cooking and laughed happily. - "Everything is almost ready, so hurry up and eat.. Or I will not be able to control myself.."

And despite your boyfriend actually worrying about you, making all these dishes for you to enjoy, there's no way you actually can fit so much food in your stomach. Oh, so of course he's ready to show not only his caring side of himself, but also lend a helping mouth…!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Mm.. I literally eat one tenth of all this things eat I'm so full.." - you yawn, laying in his bed in your comfy pajamas and watching as Beel changes his casual t-shirt to a more oversized one. In the orange light of the bedside lamp, the relief of his muscles was even more distinct, drawing all your attention..

"I'm happy you enjoy it.." - Yet then he turns to you and your eyes get back to his happy face.

Belphie fall asleep at couch in living room again, and when his twin tries to bring him back to room, he ask to not disturb him. Which means you both have a full night just with each other, and that's why your boyfriend was so excited - cause he absolutely adores sleepovers with you, treating you like some sort of teddy bear and fetters you in his arms till the morning.

But this time, when he sat on the edge of the bed, ready to just lay down and enjoy his private time with his dear girlfriend, he noticed as you scrunched up your face slightly when turning to him.

"S/o, are you alright?" - Beel can't help but always get a little bit too sensitive over you, worrying about every small detail. It even surprises you sometimes, how attentive he gets for someone who looks so simple.

"Nothing.. Just my back hurting so much after this goddamn shift.." - you mumble under your nose, rubbing your shoulder.

For a moment he gets silent, thinking about something, before looking again in your eyes with a slight blush:

"Maybe I can give you a massage then?"

oh. What an interesting offer you have here.. Just how can you say no, especially when your gaze keeps getting back to his body, admiring this large hand? You totally wouldn't mind to feel their strong grasp.

"Well, of course you can.." - with a playful smile you lay down on your stomach, embarrassing your poor boyfriend with such a devilish expression.

Cause he's actually meaning some light pleasant massage, wishing to help you relax, yet when you look at him like that and arch your back slightly, luring him to touch you, even in his pretty pure head start creeping some kind of dirty thoughts. Now a little bit shy, he leaned closer, thinking how to start.

At first, he just ran his hands over your body, once again surprised how petite you look compared to him. All touches are so gentle and careful, as Beel's really afraid to crush your bones under his arms.

"Tell me if it would be uncomfortable.." - he mumbled, tickling your waist with light strokes before squeezing your shoulders.

"Of course, dear.. But don't worry too much, I can take it.." - you can't help but chuckle, noticing that his fingers are actually trembling a little. Just how softie this big boy can be..

Slowly, Beel gets more bold, leading by your gasps and small commentaries where you like it better, now grabbing and rubbing your skin in much more rough way yet it's so pleasant. Soft murmur escaped your lip as another wave of tingles washes over your body, from shoulders where his hands were, and over all your muscles, making you melt more and more. You didn't even notice when your boyfriend leans so close to you, tickling smooth skin not only with his massage yet with his hot breath too. It was just so relaxing that you didn't notice, too carried away with a pleasing feeling, waking up only when he placed a soft yet long kiss on your neck.

Corners of your lips immediately lifted up as you thought how cute your adorable demon is, yet when after a few moments another kiss titillates your shoulder, and then another one.. With each time his kisses get more needy, and then with a small groan Beel pressed his lips to your neck again, making you whine from a sudden feel of his hot tongue.

"S/o.. I'm hungry.." - his casual phrase makes your stomach ache, cause you totally can hear the tone of another type of appetite here..

Wanted to turn over and face him, you quickly were stopped by heavy hands as he held you in place, relishing the sweet taste of your skin on his tongue. Getting lower and lower, Beel leaves a whole wet line of messy kisses on your back, before cupping your hips.

"I.. can i?" - his breath is already so shallow as his thumb plays with the waistband of your silk shorts, so impatiently yet he just can't go further without your permission.

But instead of answering you just lift your hips with a small mewl, glance over your shoulder at him with such eyes, such furrowed brows.. It was enough for your boyfriend to understand everything as he literally tore apart your pajamas along with your panties, quickly pressing his face between your thighs.

Beel always gets a little bit carried away whenever he gets a chance to eat you out, licking so passionately and savoring every small drop of your cum. Well, he's an avatar of Gluttony, after all, and your trembling clenching pussy always would be his most favorite dish.

And today it seemed he was even more wild, almost immediately starting with long licks, his hot tongue quickly wet your folds. As your boyfriend, he knew by his heart where all your sensitive spots are and now was abusing this information, wishing to get more delicious juices from you, along with these little sounds you start to make.

Arching your back, you bury your head into pillows, trying to muffle yourself yet it was so good, you can't help but start moving your hips forward his face to get even more friction. His chin was pressed to your throbbing clit, rubbing a small bundle of nerves every time his jaw started to move. And the way his hands grasp your thighs in such a greedy manner as Beel starts losing more and more of his self-control, just makes your pussy tingle more and your mind wondering about feeling such a firm grip on your waist when he would pound in your body with all his strength..

Such fantasies heat you even more and you moan, calling his name and asking for more, begging for speed up. Oh, and of course Beel, as a very obedient and generous boyfriend, will do anything you ask, pushing his tongue deeper inside you, rubbing your clenching walls at some rapid pace. This strong bulge in his pants was aching so bad as his head was filled with no less sinful thoughts than yours. Just how much he wants to feel this sticky burning pressure of your pussy around his dick, it's almost unbearable..

Deep groans from his throat vibrate on your folds, make you squeeze your thighs together, and you start feeling how your body is shaking even more, all heat concentrated in your hips. Every thrust of his tongue just pushes you closer and your last whimper increases, turning into a loud moan as this burn overflows your insides and you freeze, all tensed up. A delightful emptiness in your head and absolute chaos of pleasure in your cunt as you cum in Beel's mouth while his tongue keeps working, enjoying your bliss with you.

If not for his strong grip on your legs, you probably would just fall still on bed, yet your boyfriend holds you tightly, still pressing his face to your trembling folds. Only after you calm down completely, Beel slowly pulls away, looking at your wet throbbing pussy with even more deep hunger.

"S/o..? Are you alright?" - his voice is so husky now as he tries to catch his breath before carefully turning your powerless body and looking at your red sweaty face, such a pleased expression makes his dick twitch more.

"Mm.. I think I am.." - you mumble under your nose, touching his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him closer to you.

He immediately leaned closer, and you notice as lust darkened his violet eyes, the very desperate eyes of an absolutely charmed man.

"Then can we continue..?" - yet still his voice is so soft and even slight shyness can be noticed in undertones. With a small chuckle you nod and his hand quickly leaves your body just to take off his pants, finally letting his hard cock out.

Low groan burst out of Beel's chest from the contrast of cold air and his hot skin, and he grabbed your hips again, rubbing his glans against your folds and shivering from warm wetness. Your skin is so soft and your arms around his neck so gentle, he can't help but whimper, pressing his face on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry.. I don't think I can control myself anymore.."

"That's exactly what I want.." - Truly, your devilish whisper is worse than a siren's call, and there's no way Beel ever would be able to resist anything you say. Well, but he doesn't want to resist anyway, ready to satisfy your and his hunger for hours tonight..

#obey me beel x reader #obey me beel x you #beelzebub obey me #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #beelzebul #beel obey me #beelzebub smut #obey me beelzebub #obey me #obey me smut #obey me beel smut #beel obey me smut #obey me x reader smut #obey me imagines #obey me x reader

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putellas11 · 1 year

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A/N: Finally! So happy I was able to get this up in time to celebrate Alexia's return!!! Similar to Just a Girl, this was a big challenge for me and I was determined to see it through. This is a story of how love can shine a light in the darkest of moments. btw this is a long one so settle in.

The Missing Piece (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

In the blink of an eye, everything changed.

A life once lived passionately and carefree, now overwhelmed with uncertainty and trepidation. How else are you supposed to feel when faced with the possibility of losing what you hold most dear? If you lose your guiding light, will you make it on your own or will you wander aimlessly through life?

These are the questions that have invaded your mind. It’s all you can think about. They keep you up at night and leave you exhausted the following morning. You feel their weight on your shoulders dragging you down. They leave you gasping for air as you struggle to just keep your head above water. And the one person who can help you and protect you from it all, is the very person you’re at risk of losing.

The only thing that can distract you, even if it’s for the briefest of moments, is art. It’s the only way you can convey what words simply cannot express. When you feel crippled with pain and see no hope in sight, art is your only escape. With your brush, you create a world filled with light and hope. Because unlike life, art is forgiving. When you make a mess, you can paint over it. You can try again.

Unlike life, art gives you second chances.

"Dios mio, that storeroom is a mess!" your coworker, Carla exclaims, appearing by your side. She drops a box of coffee beans on the floor and with the back of her hand, wipes a drop of sweat from her brow. “Took me 10 minutes just to find this.”

Behind the counter, your attention is on the sketchbook in your hands. When the crowd dies down and you get a little break from taking orders, the small sketchbook comes out from under the counter. Everything from the small details of the cafe to the faces of those who visit it, are you sources of inspiration.

“You mean the one we spent all night organizing last week?”

Annoyance radiates from Carla. “That can’t be us making all that mess, right?” she says, hands on her waist and her foot tapping repeatedly against the floor. “I’m convinced someone is sneaking in at night and trashing the place.”

The absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, and she finally gets your full attention. “So, they don’t sneak in to steal anything? All they want to do is make a mess?”

Carla nods with confidence. “It’s the only logical explanation.”

How she manages to keep a straight face, you do not know. But her eyes certainly give her away. Like you, Carla has no intention of being a barista forever. Put two people together who don’t take their job too seriously and what do you get? A messy storeroom.

“You’re ridiculous.” With a smile, you shake your head and return your focus back to the sketchbook.

Carla leans in to take a peek at what you’re drawing, and it doesn’t take long for her to pick out your subject: a young woman sitting by the window, completely immersed in a book. You picked her out because of her auburn hair and the way it shines so bright bathed by rays of sunlight.

"How's the exhibit coming along, by the way?" Carla asks.

It's a simple question that elicits a deep sigh from your lips. Just the mention of it forces you to close the sketchbook and tuck it away under the counter. "It's going...good."

Carla raises her eyebrow, catching on to your very obvious hesitation. "But…" she says, encouraging you to spill whatever it is that’s bothering you.

"I've gotten great feedback from everyone I've shown the pieces to, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. It's like there's something else I need to say, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what that is."

It’s been nothing but sleepless nights staring at a blank canvas just waiting for inspiration to strike. All the other pieces came so naturally to you. Granted, all of them are dedicated to your mother. But still, you've never experienced something quite like this and with the exhibit only a few months away, you're getting a little restless.

You hope Carla might have some words of wisdom to break you out of the funk you’re in, but the door of the cafe creaks open, and a woman walks in.

Break time is over.

Like clockwork, Carla takes her position by your side at the brewing station, ready to prepare whatever order the customer might want.

"Hola! What can I get you?" You give the woman the same greeting and smile you give to them all.

The woman glances at Carla, and for a brief moment, it gives you the impression that there might actually be some meaning behind it. But you dismiss it — it's probably nothing.

"Just a cortado, please."

"And the name for the order?" you ask, busy staring at the screen.

"...Alexia."

It takes the woman a second too long to say her name, but again, you pay it no mind. You've taken thousands of orders by now, and they're all a little different from the last. Some customers are chatty and some straight to the point. Either way, you take their order and send them on their way. You don’t have the energy for anything else.

Carla, an expert by now, has the order done in a second and leaves it on the counter. She shares a look again with the woman, and this time it does spark your interest. You make a note to ask Carla about it later.

The door opens and closes, and now there's one less customer inside the cafe to worry about.

"You know," Carla says, swinging her arm over your shoulder, "that thing you're missing? It might just be standing right in front of you."

You scoff in response, "if only it were that easy."

Carla's expression hints that she wants to say something else, but instead, she gives you a comfortable squeeze on the shoulder.

You’re about to ask her about those looks she was sharing with the woman, but you’re interrupted by the phone vibrating inside your apron pocket.

It’s a simple message and it doesn’t deliver any bad news, but no matter how many times you receive it, your heart drops to your stomach.

"Todo bien?" Carla asks.

You nod, typing away your response. "Mama just finished her treatment. Tia is taking her home now." Tucking the phone back in your apron, a soft "merde" escapes from your lips.

Only a year ago, you were living in France with the world at your fingertips. Everything was absolutely perfect. It’s where you went to art school and poured your heart and soul into every sketch and painting with the ultimate goal of perfecting your talent. And when you graduated, all your hard work paid off when Cécile Guth — a painter you deeply admired — granted you the opportunity to be her apprentice. In France, life was art, and art was your life.

But that all changed when your mom got sick.

Leukemia.

That’s when everything came to a halt. The cloud you had been living on suddenly evaporated, and you came crashing down, face first into a harsh reality. You had no choice but to leave France. At first, you didn't miss the life and dreams you left behind. You were so focused on taking care of your mom that everything else was deemed irrelevant. But as the months have gone by, you wonder if you'll ever be able to return. And if you ever do, you fear you might not be the same person.

"How's Lídia doing?" Carla asks, bringing you back to reality.

"She's a fighter," you say with a sad smile. "She tries to be strong for my sake, but I can see she's suffering. Chemo is supposed to help but honestly, I feel like it's hurting her more than that damn cancer ever could."

Without a second to waste, Carla opens her arms and pulls you into a hug you so desperately need. You've only known each other for a year, but she's been by your side during the most difficult time of your life.

"On a happier note, the flyers for the class are done," you say, wiping away the single tear from your cheek.

Carla, sensing the need to lighten up the mood, claps her hands excitedly. "I'm telling you, you should have had them made a long time ago!"

It was Carla’s idea to have flyers made to promote your small art class, The First Brushstroke. Working at the cafe isn’t exactly making you rich — not that you need to be, but you definitely need an extra source of income with your mom obviously not able to work.

“I’m picking them up on my way home. If I can get just three more regulars, I’ll be good.”

Carla waves your doubts away, “trust me, I’m a genius. I bet that you’ll have to find a bigger studio in a few months.”

The door opens once again and it’s time to repeat the routine all over again. You’re not sure how much longer you can take this.

“I hope you’re right.”

__________________________

Once again, you find yourself sitting in front of a blank canvas, just staring at it intently with no hope in sight. All the colors and shapes that once flowed so naturally through your mind seem to have vanished. You’re left staring at nothing, feeling frustrated and helpless. Every time you dip your brush into the paint and make a few strokes on the canvas, it feels forced. Art isn’t supposed to feel forced. It’s meant to feel effortless and natural.

With a sigh you set down your brush and lean back on the chair. Looking around the room, you see a clutter of art supplies and splotches of paint decorating the floor. Very few traces are left of what was once your childhood bedroom. It was actually your mom’s idea to turn it into a little studio when you moved back home. Her way of helping you keep your passion alive, you suppose.

Admitting defeat, you stand up and walk away from the canvas. The missing piece yet to be found.

You find your mom in her room, tucked under the blankets with a book in her hands. Physically, she has changed so much. A strong woman capable of running mile after mile is now barely able to walk a few feet on her own. Thick, luscious hair is now thin and falls off at the slightest touch.

And yet, in her eyes, you see the same woman who used to run all over the house with you playing hide and seek. The same woman who held you on her hip as she made pancakes with chocolate syrup smiles. Inside, she still has that raw passion and intensity as when she danced flamenco. She’s still your mom but it’s like you lose a little more of her with each passing day.

“Hi, mama,” you greet her, peeking your head inside the room.

The moment she sees you, a big smile appears. “Hola, mi vida. Come in.”

The book is placed to the side, and her arms welcome you as you lay down next to her. She doesn’t want you to ask about today’s treatment or how she’s feeling. She’s tired of only giving you bad news. Even when you’re the one that is supposed to look after her, her priority is still looking after you.

So instead of asking, you let her gather her strength and run her fingers through your hair. She asks about your day, and you tell her everything to the smallest detail. She gets a nice chuckle out of Carla’s suspicions about who keeps messing up the storeroom.

“And that missing piece of yours?”

You shake your head. “Still missing and I’m just about ready to give it up. Honestly mama, I think it’s just me being a perfectionist.”

She hums but doesn’t say anything in response right away. “I think…” she says, “that if that heart of yours is telling you that something is missing, you should listen.”

Growing up, your mom would never allow frustration to consume you to the point of giving up. She would guide you through whatever you needed until you came out on the other side. She has always been your guiding light when you just can’t seem to find your way.

You look up at her and smile. “You’re so wise.”

A familiar mischievous glint that you rarely see nowadays appears in her eyes. “Well, one of us has to be.”

“Mama!”

But the two of you share a laugh, and it’s a sound you hope to hear forever and never forget.

__________________________

Tuesdays are slow. The early morning rush of customers has come and gone, and now the café is left with only a few scattered customers. On days like this, there’s only a need for one person behind the counter, and today that lucky person is you.

With Carla not around to keep you company, the only goal is to keep yourself busy. Occasionally, you’ll take out the sketchbook, but nothing seems to maintain your interest for long. You’re in a proper funk, and rather than fight it, you have decided to embrace it. Even though you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re missing a piece for the exhibit, at this point, you’re only driving yourself crazy.

If the missing piece wants to be found, it will make its way to you eventually.

The door of the coffee shop swings open, and it takes you a second, but you recognize her as the woman sharing those looks with Carla.

“¡Hola, bienvenida!”

The woman gives you a soft smile, “Hi,” she says, tapping her fingers on the counter, “A cortado, please.”

With a nod, you input her order on the screen, “name for the order?”

Once again, the woman takes just a second too long to respond. This time you glance up just in time to catch a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

“Alexia,” she says with a breath.

As you prepare the order, you can see her taking a keen interest in one of the flyers for your art class. You left them up on the counter so that everyone could see, but as you expected, barely anyone has paid much attention.

Alexia, on the other hand, not only takes one from the stack, but she seems to be genuinely curious. If Carla was here, she would urge you to talk to her. But the truth is, you’ve never been good at selling yourself. You’ve always preferred to let your art speak for you, and for itself.

You place her cortado within Alexia’s reach and as casually as you can, ask, "Interested in taking an art class?"

Alexia shifts her weight nervously and chuckles, "I'm not very good."

Out of fear that you’ll come off too eager and scare her away, you grab a towel and start wiping the counter that clearly doesn’t need much cleaning. “More reason to sign up.”

“I’ll sign up if you ask me to.”

Your hand stills at her words. “Um…” Something about the way she said them makes you hesitant to look at her. “Yeah... you should sign up.”

But she doesn’t let you off the hook that easily.

“Look at me and ask.”

And when you do look at her, you’re left speechless by what you see. This is the first time you look at her — really look at her, and it makes you feel vulnerable, exposed. Alexia’s not just looking at you - she’s looking through you. All of your flaws, insecurities, and imperfections seem to be on full display.

You feel seen.

You struggle to speak, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. “Please, sign up for my class.”

“Finally.” Alexia says and she doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds, almost as if she’s relishing the moment. Eventually, the corners of her lips tug upwards in a smile, “I’ll think about it.”

You want to say something to convince her, but you’re left speechless. No one has looked at you like that in a very, very long time. It's a scary feeling, but at the same time, there's a sense of excitement brewing in the pit of your stomach.

With the flyer and coffee in her hands, Alexia gives you a little nod. “Nos vemos.”

You watch as she walks out of the cafe, leaving you to grapple with the unexpected feelings she sparked in you.

The rest of your shift goes unbearably slow. With barely any customers to keep your mind busy, it keeps wandering back to Alexia. The exchange was confusing, unexpected, and strange. And yet, you want to talk to her again.

It’s only when you get home that you’re distracted enough to not think about her, and it’s not for a great reason.

Your mom has good days and bad days and when you got home, your aunt’s expression told you all you needed to know. Today is a bad day.

On the bad days, there’s very little you can do besides make sure she is comfortable. These are the days that hurt the most. You feel powerless and the questions that keep you up at night gain power over you. You try so hard to put on a brave face for her. She can handle the cancer, but not the sadness in your eyes.

After dinner, you’re lying in bed with her watching a movie. It’s a bad day ritual. It’s the perfect way to embrace a new world — a new reality in which your mom is not sick and everything is as it should be.

Halfway through the movie, your phone buzzes softly beside you.

A notification lights up the display: Alexia Putellas has registered for The First Brushstroke class.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body as you read her name. You can't help but whisper it out loud, "Alexia."

Your mom's voice, curious and gentle, interrupts your thoughts. "Did you say something, mija?"

Quickly you lock the screen and shake your head. "It's nothing, mama."

There's no point in explaining how one simple look from a stranger has shaken you to your core. How can you possibly explain something you, yourself don’t understand?

__________________________

There’s a vibrant energy that flows through the narrow, winding streets of La Vila de Gràcia district. Before moving away, Gràcia was where you would spend most of your time. You felt understood and encouraged by all of the artists displaying their artwork on the streets. So, when you moved back and needed to find an art studio to host your class, you knew exactly where to look.

The art studio itself is small but fulfills your needs and most importantly, it’s within your budget. The walls are decorated with various pieces of artwork, from sketches and charcoal drawings to oil paintings. At the bottom right corner each one are your initials, and the only hint of the paintings being created by your hand. At the front of the room is a large wooden easel, holding a blank canvas that in a few hours will be brought to life with vibrant strokes of color.

The class is for beginners, so you don’t put too much pressure on yourself. There’s no need for everything to be perfect. In fact, you encourage mistakes. Most often than not, mistakes have the potential to become something unexpectedly beautiful.

With the class set to begin shortly, those who signed up start trickling in. A couple takes a seat in the back of the room and right away you can tell it might be their first date. He hesitates to scoot his stool a little closer to her, and she tries to hide the blush in her cheeks when he finally does.

A few of your regulars have the confidence to immediately go and collect their paint brushes, tubes of paint, and containers of water without being told to do so. Their confidence spreads through the room, and eventually, everyone has what they need to start the class.

Only one easel stands alone.

You glance at the clock on the wall and feel your heart sink a bit. It seems Alexia changed her mind and won’t be coming after all. You try to pretend it doesn’t bother you, but disappointment is an unwanted visitor tonight. Still, you gather the supplies she might need and leave them for her by the easel. Just in case.

“Hello everyone, thank you all for being here” you offer a smile to the faces looking at you with anticipation, “tonight, we’ll be focusing on blending colors to create a gradient effect. If this is your first time —”

The door swings open and everyone's heads snap in its direction. Alexia steps inside the studio and you forget whatever it is you were about to say.

She stops at the entrance, her eyes locked on you.

Alexia’s presence sparks an excited chatter amongst the class but their voices are muffled in your ears. You’re entirely captivated by her.

“Hi,” you greet her.

“Hi,” she says with the softest of smiles.

Finally taking notice of the others in the studio, Alexia gives them all a quick nod before taking a seat.

Before, everyone’s eyes were on you. Now, you see them all taking not-so secretive glances at Alexia. You can only assume it’s because she made a late entrance, but deep down, you have a feeling there might be more to it than that.

You clear your throat and bring everyone's attention back to you. “Um… yeah, I as I was saying,” but it takes you a second to regain your train of thought, “right — if this is your first time, feel free to follow along to what I paint, it will be something really simple. But, if your mind or your heart calls out for something else, don’t hesitate.”

As promised, your painting is of a simple sunset with silhouettes of pine trees. You show the students how to mix the colors together with a blending brush, starting with a light shade and gradually adding darker tones for a seamless transition. A painting of this simplicity would normally take you a few minutes, but you take your time to explain the different techniques and all the possible color combinations.

With the painting done, it’s time for you to walk around the studio and give each student your individual attention. You encourage those who are hesitant to be bold and give praises to those that show improvement since the last time you saw them.

Eventually, you make your way to Alexia. When she notices you, she looks down somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s so bad,” she says softly, avoiding your gaze.

You take a closer look at her painting. It's a striking red and blue background with the silhouette of a young girl holding a ball against her hip. Despite the simple composition, there's something poignant and personal about it. From your experience, most beginner students choose something generic, easy. But It's clear that Alexia’s painting is anything but.

"It's not bad," you say gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's personal, no? I think that’s what makes it beautiful."

Your words seem to give Alexia a little bit of confidence because she looks up at you, “gracias.” Her eyes drift down at your hand still on her shoulder, a soft sigh through parted lips.

Fearing you might have crossed an invisible line, you pull away swiftly and give her a little nod. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the class goes by in a blur but all throughout you feel overwhelmed by Alexia. You feel her eyes on you the entire time. And while you certainly hope you didn’t make it too obvious, every time she flicked her hair, you noticed. When she scrunched her eyebrows in deep focus, you noticed.

The students stand up and get ready to leave, but before some walk out of the studio, they do something that surprises you. They walk up to Alexia with a glint in their eyes, and ask her for a picture. She complies with every request.

Clearly, Alexia is someone important and you feel embarrassed for not knowing why.

Only the couple and Alexia remain in the studio. You start cleaning up all the supplies scattered all while pretending not to listen. With what you do manage to catch of their conversation, your best guess is that it has something to do with a football club which is something you know very little about. Sports are not really your thing and it has nothing to do with being forced to play goalie once when you were six, and then proceeding to get a ball kicked at your face. Repeatedly.

Alexia and the couple exchange farewells and the conversation comes to an end. With your back turned, you only hear the sound of the door opening and closing and then, a brief silence.

“Do you usually stay and clean?”

Alexia’s voice startles you, causing you to jump and let out a shriek. You assumed she had left like everyone else. It’s not like she has a reason to stay.

“Oh!” she says, taking a step closer with a look of concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Slightly embarrassed at your reaction, you take a deep to calm your beating heart. “No, uh,” you say with a light chuckle, hand on your chest. “I stay and clean up. It’s part of the gig.”

Alexia looks around, noticing all the dirty brushes and containers that will surely keep you occupied for another hour. Without a word, she follows your lead and starts picking up as well.

“Wait, you really don’t have to.”

She stops and looks at you with the same intensity she did at the coffee shop. “I want to.”

Once again, you're left speechless by one simple look and unable to make any further protests. Alexia seems to have this power of you that you find both unsettling and strangely exhilarating.

With all the brushes and containers in the sink, you notice she has no intention of leaving until the task is complete.

“I wash, you dry?” you suggest, turning on the faucet to allow the water to remove the excess paint from the brushes.

“You wash, I dry.” Alexia stands next to you, her arm bushing ever so slightly against yours.

It’s a small studio, so it’s a small sink. You’re acutely aware of the warmth radiating from her and you feel it spreading through you.

"I know it's a little obvious since you're the teacher and all," Alexia says, meticulously cleaning the brushes with a level of care and precision most people wouldn't exhibit. "But you’re really talented."

Your laughter is warm and appreciative. "That's quite a compliment based on just that small painting I did."

Alexia shakes her head slightly and her gaze drifts up to the paintings and sketches adorning the walls of the studio. "These are all yours, right?"

You don't bother looking up at the paintings. You're well aware of the pieces she's referring to. Instead, you fix your eyes on her, astonishment subtly etched on your face.

"You noticed."

Alexia meets your gaze. "Hard not to."

For a brief moment, both of you remain silent, allowing the compliment to linger in the air. But you feel flustered, so you look away and try to think of something to change the subject.

"Do you mind if I ask what you do?"

Alexia straightens her posture with an unmistakable hint of pride. "I play for Barça."

And you feel like idiot for not knowing that. "No wonder everyone was so starstruck when you walked in."

Alexia's lips curve into a tight, shy smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that," she says, as she finishes drying the last of the brushes.

"Don't be," you say, shifting your weight against the sink. "I should apologize for being from here and not recognizing you. I feel like I'm committing some sort of crime."

Her laughter is light, and she leans in ever so slightly. "You know, I think there's a reward for turning in people like you," she teases.

Biting your bottom lip to stifle a grin, you reply, "And if I offer a better reward for keeping my secret?"

Alexia edges slightly closer, curiosity dancing in her eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

Her proximity sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "How about a private class next Friday? You'll have the teacher all to yourself."

Alexia pretends to ponder it for a moment, but eventually extends her hand, and you take it without hesitation.

"We have a deal."

__________________________

Over the next few days, you find yourself more attentive than ever at who enters the cafe. Every time the door swings open, your head instinctively turns in its direction. Not only that, you’re so lost in thought that you struggle to remember even the simplest of orders.

After you botch the third order of the day, Carla's curiosity gets the better of her. "Okay, I have to know," she says, her arms crossed over her chest, "what's got your head in the clouds?"

"Sorry... I just have something on my mind, that's all," you reply, trying to dismiss it. "It’s stupid."

She seems willing to let it go, but when you reach for the whole milk, she has to intervene. "He asked for oat milk," she points out, swapping the milk cartons for you. "Alright, spill it — and I don't mean the drink."

With the customer only a few feet away, you lower your voice so only Carla can hear. "I met someone…"

Carla's eyebrows rise in intrigue. "I like where this is going."

You quickly complete the order under Carla's watchful gaze and hand it to the customer with an apologetic smile.

Once he walks out of the cafe, Carla swivels back to you. "You were saying."

"She was at my class last week even stayed to help me clean up. You know I haven't exactly flirted with anyone in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened. And now…" you take a deep breath, "I can't stop thinking about her,” you say rather quickly, almost embarrassed.

“It doesn't help that she's a regular here so I'm expecting her to walk through that door any second, and it has me on edge."

"Wait," Carla says, holding her hand up, "she's a regular?"

You nod. "Yeah, it’s Alexia. I think you know her actually."

You still haven't forgotten the glances her and Alexia have shared in the past. But with everything that has happened, you never had the chance to ask Carla what it all meant.

Upon hearing Alexia's name, the broadest grin spreads across Carla's face.

"What?" you ask, puzzled.

"It's about damn time!" She exclaims, a tad too loudly. The few customers in the cafe glance her way, and she quickly apologizes.

"What do you mean, it's about time?"

After releasing her excitement with a few soft claps, Carla places a hand on your shoulder. "Querida, Alexia has been coming here for like two months just to see you and you barely paid her any attention. La pobre, she would get so sad whenever you asked for her name."

It all starts to make sense. So much has been happening around you but you’ve been oblivious to it all.

You playfully slap Carla on her side. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

Carla shrugs, her smile beaming. "What can I say — I'm a romantic! I didn't want to force it." Her smile dims slightly. "Besides, I figured you had a lot on your mind with your mom and the exhibit. I didn't think you were all that interested in dating."

Carla's right: dating hasn't exactly been a priority. You haven’t gone on a date in a year and it’s a fact that hasn’t exactly kept you up at night. How can you seek out love when your heart is in danger of being broken in a million little pieces? If your worst fear becomes a reality, there might not be a heart left to give. But even so, you cannot deny that while it still remains in tack, it beats a little faster at the mention of Alexia.

"You're not wrong," you concede, "but a woman like that is worth moving up the priority list."

Carla snickers and wiggles her eyebrows. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

"Very."

__________________________

It's Friday night and you can’t stop staring at the clock in your art studio. Its hands seem to mock you. Each tick echoes through the empty space, driving you mad with anticipation. It's your fault for arriving an hour early, but you just couldn't bear waiting at home any longer. You haven't felt like this in so long, and you just don't know what to do with yourself.

Back in France, you only dated casually. Some relationships were more serious than others sure, but you never really saw a future in any of them. Your heart and mind were too committed to your art, so it was difficult for anyone to compete.

But this time it feels different. Your art, which used to consume you, now seems to be somewhat in the background, and thoughts of Alexia have taken center stage.

The art studio is still. The easels and art supplies waiting in anticipation for Alexia. You set two easels in the corner next to the large windows that reveal the night sky, dotted with stars.

And if you're not staring at the clock, you're staring at the blank canvas, trying to envision the scene you want to create. But of course, your thoughts drift to Alexia, and all you can see is the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

The door to the studio opens and Alexia walks in. Immediately, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Hi," she greets you, choosing to remain standing by the door.

You fight the nerves threatening to consume you and take the necessary steps to reach her. "Hi," you reply, hands intertwined nervously behind you.

Alexia looks at you for a moment, a smirk teasing her lips. There's no doubt she can sense your nerves. "You know, I ran into some officers on the way here."

"Oh yeah?"

She hums and nods her head, "They were actually looking for someone that reminded me a lot of you."

You bite your bottom lip to suppress your laughter. You've missed being teased like this. "Well, either you led them right to me, or you kept your end of the deal."

Alexia takes a moment, a mischievous look in her eye. "She's right here, officers!"

This earns Alexia a playful nudge on her shoulder. "Alright, you got me," you admit, your laughter filling the studio.

“Are you ready to get started, captain?”

Alexia nods and follows you to the easels by the window. She doesn’t try to be slick when she scoots her stool closer you. She makes it very obvious and, you of course, make no protest.

In the beginning, you focus on giving her a few pointers on how to work with charcoal. It's all very professional, which does help calm the butterflies in your stomach.

But then Alexia glances over at your canvas and asks, "How do you do that shading thing you do?"

You give her a smile and lean in closer to her canvas. With the proximity, you can smell her perfume, her breath against your hair, her knee pressed up against yours.

When you finish explaining, you turn to Alexia, only to realize that she hasn't exactly been paying much attention to what you were doing.

"Did you listen to a word I said?" You ask teasingly.

Alexia blushes, a sheepish smile on her face. "Sorry, I got distracted," she admits, her eyes flickering to your lips for a moment. "Show me again."

And you do so, not just because you want her to learn, but because you like the feeling of having her close.

After a little while of working in peaceful silence, Alexia decides to speak up. "So, in the last class, you mentioned that you moved back here from France?"

You give her a nod, "Yeah, almost a year now."

"Why did you come back?"

Your hand stills and hovers above the canvas. It doesn't matter how much time has gone by or how many times you've had to talk about it, your mom's illness is and will always be difficult to put into words.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Alexia says, sensing your hesitation.

But you shake your head and smile, your eyes glistening. "No, it's okay," you say, voice soft but steady.

"My mom was diagnosed with cancer, and of course I had moved back to be with her. I used to say that it would take something really big for me to move back here, and… it turns out I was right."

Alexia listens intently to your every word. "I'm really sorry."

You finally gather the courage to look at Alexia, and you see two things: a sense of understanding and a little smudge of charcoal on her cheek.

"Thank you," you tell her with a small smile, which only grows bigger the longer you look at her.

"What?" she asks, confused.

"You have a little charcoal…" you tell her, pointing to the smudge on her cheek.

"Oh," she says and immediately tries to clean it off herself but fails to actually reach the spot.

"Let me help." You lean in closer to her, and with a soft, careful touch, you reach out and gently wipe the smudge away with your thumb.

Time seems to stand still as you both sit there, faces close in a moment of pure, unspoken emotion.

Slowly, you pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart pounding. The moment is broken, but the feelings remain palpable.

“Gracias,” she says, her hand on where she felt your touch.

Unlike the last class, this time there's no excuse for Alexia to stay and help you clean up. So, with the drawings done, you're both just standing a little awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

"Would you like to go for a drink? I know a bar nearby."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then a smile lights up you face. "I'd love that."

And that’s how the two of you end up at Las Vermudas, a cozy bar tucked away in the Gràcia district.

You follow Alexia to a booth in a far corner of the bar. Once you both have settled in, the bartender comes over to take your orders. You can’t keep your eyes off her as she orders her drink and when she catches you looking, she smiles.

It’s like the two of you are in your own little world. The conversation flows effortlessly and eventually, it leads back to your return.

“I felt so settled back in France. Everything just made sense. I was making all the right connections through Cécile, my mentor. It’s actually thanks to her that my work will be featured in an exhibit in a few months. Now, I have no idea where or who I’ll be next year.”

Almost like she can read your mind, Alexia asks, “What are you afraid of?”

“When I go back — if I do ever go back, I m scared that I just won’t be the same. That nothing will be the same. And that maybe I lost my chance to be truly great. It’s not just talent to succeed in my world, it’s a lot introductions with right people.”

Once again, you see nothing but understanding in Alexia. Her finger trails the edge of her glass, eyebrows slightly furrowed in thought.

"You know, there was a time when I wasn't sure I'd ever play again," she admits, her voice wavering slightly.

Your eyes widen in concern, and you lean in, eager to hear more.

"Two years ago I suffered an ACL injury and I was out for almsot a year. No matter how many times I told myself that I would come back stronger, there was still that little bit of doubt that would keep me up at night. I was so scared that I would not be the same player and my career would just be a what if."

“And are you the same player?”

A smirk tugs on her lips. “No,” she reaches for her glass and takes a small sip. “I’m better.” she says, and her smirk transforms into a proud smile.

And so you raise your own glass to her in admiration. It’s one thing to overcome an injury, but it’s another thing entirely to overcome the doubt that so desperately wants to hold you back.

After a little more back and forth and occasional teasing, you feel comfortable to bring up something that’s been on your mind.

"So, I have to admit something," you say, hesitating slightly. "You know my coworker, Carla?”

Alexia shifts in her seat “Si, we’ve talked a little here and there.”

You have a pretty good idea of what they’ve talked about — particularly how blind and clueless you’ve been for months.

But even though Alexia is no longer a stranger and you know for a fact that she’s interested in you, it doesn’t make it any easier to take that leap forward and be vulnerable with someone.

“Well, I kept getting distracted at the cafe, like I couldn’t get an order right to save my life.” You look down at the glass in your hands, “and I’m not the best barista by any means, but Carla could tell my mind was somewhere else.”

Alexia remains silent, but you feel her scooting a little closer to you.

“What were you thinking about?”

Your finger taps the glass repeatedly as you prepare yourself to reply to a question Alexia probably already knows the answer to.

“I was thinking about you.”

She scoots again a little closer, but this time actually reaches for your hand. It gives you the confidence you need to look away from the glass, and into her eyes.

“And when I told her I was thinking about you she got really excited, because as it turns out… you’ve been thinking about me too.”

A light blush spreads across Alexia's cheeks. "I thought you’d never notice me,” she says with a light chuckle. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Your eyes drift down to your hand and you watch how delicately Alexia trails over your knuckles.

"Every time I saw you at the cafe, I would try to find the reason to talk to you, but you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. So, I just waited and hoped that maybe, just maybe, you'd just look up."

Unlike so many times before in the cafe, this time you do look up. The intensity in her eyes no longer scares you. You welcome it and embrace it as the urge to close the distance and taste her lips becomes irresistible.

Everything indicates that she feels it too. You don’t think about it too much. You just do it.

When your lips finally meet, it's as if a spark ignites, sending a wave of warmth and desire throughout your entire body. The kiss, tender and sweet, makes the world around you fade away, and all that exists is the sensation of her lips.

When you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, you rest your forehead against hers and whisper, “I don’t think I’ll ever notice anyone else ever again.”

__________________________

With Alexia by your side, life takes a pleasant turn. After months of nothing but stress and just expecting the worst, she has brought a little light to your darkness. Not because she showers with grand gestures of affection. No, it’s the little things she does that mean the most. Like waiting for you outside the cafe after your shift so you’re the first person she sees. And it doesn’t matter how tired you are, seeing her waiting for you is like a breath of fresh air.

Because she makes you feel like this, it’s easy for you to embrace her world and her passions even though they differ so greatly from your own. It took a little bit of convincing and a lot of kisses, but you eventually agreed to let her teach you how to play football. You stumble and fall more often than not but Alexia is patient and encouraging. However, it’s hard for her to suppress her laughter at how many times you miss the ball and just kick the air.

But what surprises you the most, is that other than at the First Brushstroke, you’ve had no interest in painting. No longer are you driving yourself crazy with the exhibit and the damned missing piece.

“Oye,” Carla calls out to you, “stop thinking about Alexia and help me stock up the pastry shelf.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk in response but don’t bother to defend yourself. She’s right after all. “Fine, fine.”

“By the way, the owner just texted me that he might stop by tomorrow,” Carla informs you and her expression shows that she’s not all that pleased.

You throw your head back and groan, “of course he is.”

Every once in a blue moon the owner of the cafe decides to show up and pretend like he actually cares about the place. Just the mention of his possible visit makes you want to take off your apron and quit.

What makes matters worse is that Alexia won’t be waiting for you outside today. She’s traveling back with the team and you expect her to go straight home and get some rest.

The two of you are just about done restocking the shelf when the door to the cafe opens.

“Ale?”

Her eyes immediately find you and she gives you a big, beaming smile. Your heart skips a beat as you return her smile, a tangible connection passing between you even from across the cafe.

“Hola, preciosa.”

Within a second you’re in her arms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. “You’re back,” you mumble against her skin, giving a quick peck on her cheek.

“I am,” she says with a little squeeze.

Behind you, Carla clears her throat to get your attention. "Hey, can you bring out the rest of the apple puff ones from the back? I'll cover the counter."

You glance at the shelf and see more than enough of the apple puff-pastries and you, of course, catch the hint. “Will do,” you reply with a grateful smile.

You take Alexia’s hand and guide her towards the storeroom. As you pass Carla, you faintly hear Alexia say “thank you,” to her.

The moment the two of you step into the room and the door closes, your hands reach up to cradle Alexia’s face and pull her in for a slow, passionate kiss.

It’s as if all the days you've spent apart melt away. "I missed you," you murmur repeatedly against each other's lips, the words barely audible.

Alexia with her arms around your waist, draws you even closer, and you lose yourself in the warmth of her embrace.

When you finally pull apart and catch your breath, you can't help but playfully reprimand her. "You had such a long flight. Why aren’t you at home and in bed right now?"

Alexia shakes her head as if that was the last thing in her mind. "I wanted to see my girlfriend,” she says as she trails gentle kisses down your neck.

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words. Gently, you grasp her face with your hands, "I'm your girlfriend?" This is the first time the title has been uttered, but it has certainly been swirling around in your mind.

She nods with an undeniable confidence because to her, it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Yes, and I am yours."

There’s a saying: actions speak louder than words. So, rather than proclaim how much her words mean to you, you capture her lips once more for a kiss. Hands find their way underneath her shirt, tracing the curves and lines you've come to know so well. And as the intensity continues to build, Alexia attempts to back you against a wall, but when you take a step back you end up tripping over a box, stumbling backward.

Alexia tries to catch you, but her foot gets caught up in something and she ends up losing her balance as well. You find yourself in a tangled mess of limbs and unable to control your laughter.

“You weren’t kidding,” she says, extending her hand to help you up. “This place is a mess.”

You nod in agreement, hands on your hips, "Someone keeps sneaking in at night and turning the place upside down."

"Really?"

“No,” you drop the facade and smirk, "Carla and I are just incapable of cleaning up after ourselves."

Alexia chuckles and shakes her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she takes in the chaos that surrounds the two of you.

"I've got to go back” you wrap your arms around Alexia's neck, drawing her closer for a quick peck on her cheek. “Duty calls.”

Alexia nods in understanding. "Can’t leave our girl stranded.”

Walking out of the backroom, you’re relieved to not see Carla overwhelmed by a long line at the counter.

“We really need to get that place in order,” you tell Carla, pointing back to the stockroom.

Carla grimaces, “I know,” she says, “I hate to say it, but we might need to stay late today and clean up in case that idiot actually decides to show up.”

Alexia, who has been listening to the conversation, raises her hand. "I’m happy to help if you need an extra hand."

Carla looks at Alexia, then back at you with desperation in her eyes, “we definitely do.”

A part of you wants to say no because you know Alexia needs the rest, but you can already feel the muscles in your back start to tighten from all the heavy lifting that awaits you. With Alexia's help, the task of cleaning the backroom would be much more manageable.

So you give in, “Ok,” you point your finger at Alexia rather sternly, “go home, get some rest and we’ll see you here at closing.”

"So bossy,” Alexia playfully blows a kiss to you and says, "I’ll see you soon.”

Again, it’s the little things that make you fall more in love with her day by day.

__________________________

Tonight, your mom is teaching you how to cook her famous Fideuà which also happens to be one of Alexia’s favorite dishes. So, it’s only fitting that she’s by your side, helping you cook and correcting your many, many mistakes.

“Now, add the stock and wine and bring it to a simmer.”

Your mom, feeling a little too weak to stand, sits nearby at the counter, offering her guidance and expertise on the dish.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is light and filled with laughter as your mom and Alexia tease you mercilessly. The two hit it off right away, so much so that sometimes you feel like the third wheel. And while you may pout and complain, you love to see your mom regain that spark in her eyes that you love so much. All she’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. Your happiness is her happiness. So, when she sees you with Alexia, laughing and smiling, she’s satisfied.

“Oh, my beautiful daughter has always been a handful, Ale. I remember the day I found a nude magazine under her bed.”

Alexia chokes on the wine, a little bit spilling from the corners of her lips.

“Mama!”

Your mom brushes you off, a smirk on her lips. “She gave me this ridiculous excuse, saying it was to study the female form for a painting she was working on.”

“It was!”

“Mi amor, you’re a woman — all you had to do was look in a mirror. You didn’t need three magazines for that.”

You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, “dios, please make it stop.”

Alexia shares a look with your mom, and they burst into laughter.

Thankfully, the teasing comes to end, and you can focus back on the dish that you so desperately don’t want to mess up again.

"I tried so many times to make this when I was in France, but wow, it tasted terrible," you confess, shaking your head.

Your mom speaks up, her voice gentle but firm. "You see, that’s why it's important that I teach you these things while I can."

Feeling as though someone has punched you in the stomach, you turn your back to her, and you try to suppress the tears that threaten to spill. Her words serve as a painful reminder of the possibility of losing her.

Alexia quickly notices your distress and kisses your shoulder, providing you with that little bit of comfort you need to gather your emotions. To lighten the mood, she shares a few of her own cooking horror stories, making you laugh and successfully distracting you from the sadness that had momentarily gripped you.

After dinner, you take Alexia by the hand and lead her to your childhood bedroom turned art studio. Her eyes go wide with curiosity and admiration. "So, this is where the magic happens," she says. "I love it," Alexia breathes, her gaze darting around the room, taking in every detail.

You walk over to a corner where several canvases lean against the wall, each one partially covered with a cloth. Gently, you pull them away to reveal the paintings you've been working on for the upcoming exhibit.

Alexia gasps in awe, her eyes drinking in the vibrant colors and intricate details of each piece. "Incredible, mi amor.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment. "When I got the news of my mom, I felt like I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I had so much built up and I needed to just let it all out. And this is what came out.”

It only takes Alexia a few seconds to understand the meanings behind every piece. She reaches her hand out to you, and you take it seeking the comfort you can only get from her touch. She wraps her arms around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, "I can’t tell you that everything will be ok, but I can promise that I will be here for you, no matter what."

You believe her.

__________________________

Your favorite nights are the ones spent with Alexia. In her arms you feel safe and at peace. Somehow, she keeps your anxieties and worst fears far, far away. As your fingers gently trace the contours of her face, you feel a warmth and happiness you never want to go a day without. It turns out this isn’t just a fleeting infatuation, after all. Your love for her is real.

"I love you," you murmur, voice warm and sincere.

Alexia eyes flutter open and she smiles, "I love you too.”

Her words ignite something in you that has laid dormant in you for far too long. Your mind begins to race with ideas, colors, and compositions. It's as if a dam within you has burst, releasing this desire to express your love for her through your art. It's a powerful sensation that you simply cannot ignore and it demands you to act on it immediately.

With a sense of urgency, you jump out of bed and run to grab the sketchbook you carry with you everywhere in your bag.

“What are you doing?” Alexia calls out, her voice full of curiosity and a hint of amusement.

With no attempt to explain yourself, you reach for her vanity stool and place it a few feet away from the bed. The pencil in your hand starts to glide across the paper capturing the lines and curves of her body. Carefully, you study the gentle curve of her neck and the way her hair cascades over the pillow.

Alexia, now catching on to the reason behind your outburst, remains still. A comforting silence takes over the room, broken only by the sound of the pencil dancing across the page.

But the more you look at her and take in every detail of her body, the more restless she becomes. Her hands grip the bed sheet, teeth tugging on her bottom lip. With one swift motion, the sheets that cover her body fall to the ground as she gets up from the bed and walks over to you.

Hovering above you, she takes the sketchbook from your hands and sets it aside. Looking up at her, she brushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks in behind your ear. “I love how you look at me,” she whispers.

Her touch is so tender, and her words so genuine that makes you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

You feel compelled to drop down to your knees.

Hands run up and down the back of her thighs, nails digging in ever so slightly into her skin. You press your lips against her navel, and then trail down ever so slowly.

Alexia’s breath hitches with each kiss. She rests her hand on your head, her fingers threading through your hair as she gasps your name. The sound of her voice, breathy and filled with desire, sends a shiver down your spine.

When your tongue reaches her most sensitive spot, Alexia lifts her leg and rests it on the vanity stool, allowing you better access to her.

“Oh…”

With every gentle stroke and teasing touch, you proclaim your love. And in response, Alexia's holds you firmly in place, a clear indication she has no interest in ever letting you go.

And then her eyes lock onto yours, you see that same intensity that left you speechless when you first saw her — really saw her, but now you also see love in her gaze. Ever since that day in the coffee shop you have been at her mercy. But now as she trembles with pleasure by your hand and tongue, she’s the one begging for it.

Throughout the rest of the night, you take your time exploring and memorizing every curve and dip of Alexia's body with your lips. You're determined to commit every detail to memory to ensure that when it’s time, you’ll be able to capture her image her to perfection on the canvas.

__________________________

With a step back, you take a moment to appreciate the progress you've made on the painting. In a trance, the hours you've spent working on it have flown by. The creative block that has plagued you has lost its control over you.

And you have Alexia to thank.

The painting is inspired by the sketch you made that night. The sheet drapes over her body, revealing just enough of her silhouette to create a sense of mystery and allure. The image draws you in and entices you to want more, to see more. Although covered, you can see the toned contours of her body, from the definition in her arms to the powerful muscles in her legs.

Her knee peeks out from the bed sheets and a small yet very significant scar can be seen. The scar tells a story of overcoming obstacles and pushing through no matter. It’s a testament to her strength and her ability to rise above challenges and come out on top, stronger than before.

You continue working late into the night, each brushstroke bringing you closer to immortalizing Alexia. The painting still requires a lot of work to reach the level of perfection you desire, but you’re determined to have it done in time for the exhibit.

It’s the final, missing piece. They very piece that alluded you, and the very one you had given up on. But liked you hoped, it did make its way to you eventually. And it did so in the shape of the woman you fallen in love with.

__________________________

Waiting for the doctor always feels like an eternity. You hate everything about the room you’re in. The sterile environment, the faint smell of disinfectant, and the uncomfortable silence that only serves as a constant reminder of the pain and suffering your mom has had to endure.

Incapable of sitting down, you remain standing, hands wringing together as your heart beats rapidly in your chest. Each visit to this room has been a roller coaster of emotions, leaving you with a sense of dread every time you step foot inside. Even the ticking sound of the clock feels like a signal of impending heartache.

"Is Ale nervous for the game?"

Every time you've been in this room, all you've heard is bad news after bad news. The crushing weight of your mother's cancer hangs over you like a dark cloud, making it nearly impossible to focus. You long for the day when you can walk into this room without feeling like the world is collapsing around you.

"Mija?"

"Hmm?"

"The game against Real Madrid is later today, right?"

You manage a small smile, appreciating her attempt to ease your tension. "Yeah, it's today."

She smiles, her eyes sparkling with pride. Unlike you, she’s made her peace with it all. "I'm sure she'll do great."

Just as you're about to respond, the door opens, and the doctor walks in, a gentle smile on his face. Your heart races as you brace yourself for the news.

"I have good news for both of you," he begins, his tone warm and reassuring. "Lídia, the treatment has been effective. The latest blood tests show that you are in remission.”

As the doctor's words sink in, disbelief, relief, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over you in waves. After so long of only getting bad news, it's hard to believe that this moment has finally come. You've spent countless nights lying awake, fearing the worst.

You glance over at your mom, searching her face for any sign that this is just another cruel dream and that you’ll wake up from. But her eyes, filled with tears of joy, tell you that this is real and for the first time in so long, you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Really? Are you sure?" Your mom asks, disbelief and hope mixed in her voice.

"Yes, Lídia, I'm certain," he confirms. "The next step is consolidation treatment help prevent a relapse, but as of now, you're in remission and that is very good news."

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you rush to her side, enveloping her in a tight embrace. She holds you close, tears of joy and relief streaming down both of your faces.

"You’re going to be ok," you manage to choke out between sobs.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, you remember that Alexia had asked you to text her about the results. She wanted to know and be there for you, regardless of the outcome.

With trembling fingers, you pull out your phone and type a message to Alexia:

📲 – she’s in remission!!!!!!!!

📲 – we’re still shock but I’ll tell you everything later

📲 – good luck today!! I love you ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

The two of you make it back to the house in time to watch El Clásico. Even though you’re not there in person, you can tell the atmosphere in the stadium is electric. Every time Alexia appears on the screen, your heart swells up with pride.

The game is tense. Both teams are playing their hearts out, and while you try to pay attention to everything and every player, like Alexia has taught you, you're especially focused on her performance. Suddenly, she intercepts a pass from a Madrid player and makes a break for it.

Your heart races as you watch her weave through the defenders, getting closer and closer to the goal. Your eyes go wide when Alexia strikes the ball and sends it soaring into the net. The crowd goes wild, and you and your mom jump up from the couch, cheering and clapping.

Alexia's teammates swarm around her, congratulating her on the goal. Instead of walking away back to her position with the rest of the team, she points at the camera and then lifts up her jersey.

To your surprise, she reveals the words "Un pasito más, Lídia!" written on her undershirt. Just one more step.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at your mom, who is just as shocked as you are. Tears fill her eyes as she covers her mouth, touched by Alexia's dedication to her.

The little things matter, yes. But sometimes, the grand gestures sure do mean a lot too.

__________________________

Some time has passed since your mom went into remission and although there have been significant improvements in her health, there are still days when she doesn't feel her best. Today is one of those days, and unfortunately, it also happens to be the opening of the art exhibit.

As you gather your things to leave, you glance at your mom sitting on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket, looking a little pale and weary. Disappointment is evident in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, mi niña" she says, her voice heavy with regret. "I really wanted to be there for you tonight.”

You walk over and sit next to her, taking her hand in yours. "Mama, you’re not missing anything crazy. Besides, you’ll be there for the next exhibit, the one after that, and the one after that."

Your mother smiles weakly and nods. "I'm so proud of you,” she says, “tell Carla and Ale to take lots of pictures!”

“"I will, mama,” you say with a chuckle as lean down give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Tia should be here in a few minutes. Please, get some rest.”

When you step outside and close the door, you allow yourself to feel the disappointment you hid from her. Considering that all but one of the pieces are dedicated to her, of course you wanted her there. But still, you’re determined to make the most of this night to honor her and everything she has been through.

At the exhibit, you're accompanied by Carla. The gallery is buzzing with excitement, and your art has garnered a lot of attention and praise. However, you find it hard to take in the moment because Alexia is running late. Very late. The fact that she hasn't replied to any of your messages certainly doesn’t help.

Carla noticing your concern, rests a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure she'll be here any minute.”

You nod, attempting to stay focused on the event, but it's difficult not to let your emotions show. “I’m just worried that’s all.”

“I know, but she’s probably stuck in traffic or can’t find parking. You know-” of the sudden, her gaze drifts past you and towards the entrance and her eyes go wide.

Confused, you turn around to see what caught Carla’s attention. By the entrance, you see Alexia walk in with your mom by her side, holding on to her hand. Your mom looks tired but determined.

You rush towards them, shocked and tears threatening to stream down your face. "Mama! You're here!”

Alexia grins sheepishly. "I was on my here when she called me to pick her up and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I see where you get it from."

Still holding on to Alexia, you mom smiles and reaches out for you. "I couldn't let you down, mija. I just had to be here with you."

You embrace them both, overwhelmed by their presence. “I’m so happy you’re both here.”

With them by your side, the night becomes even that more special. Nothing feels better than being able to introduce your mom to fellow artists and attendees.

Eventually, a reporter from a local arts magazine pulls you aside for a brief interview, asking about the various pieces you have displayed at the exhibit.

He’s particularly interested in one. "The Missing Piece is truly something special," the reporter says, his eyes locked on the painting. "What’s the significance of its title?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, your gaze lingering on the painting. "At first, it felt like there was a piece missing for the exhibit, but it turns out that it was something I was missing from my own life."

You glance over at Alexia, who is admiring your artwork with your mom and Carla. "And when, I finally found it, everything changed. My missing piece brought me a sense of completeness and balance that I desperately needed.”

The reporter smiles. "Your feelings are evident in this piece, and it's no wonder it's drawing so much attention tonight."

"My mentor used to say that wherever the eyes go, so does the heart. And wherever the heart goes, so do the hands. The piece will live forever, and a hundred years from now someone will look at it and they’ll feel exactly what feel.”

“And what’s that?”

You glance over at Alexia once again. Almost as if she senses your gaze, she turns to meet your eyes. With a knowing smile, she winks at you, acknowledging the connection between the two you and the inspiration behind The Missing Piece.

“Love.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x imagine #woso x reader

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