#my actual fucking baby I'll fight anything for him

[softshuji]

Listening to one of my favourite songs and having intense Rindou thoughts rn

#I'm full of problems #love sick #no way to go #I was fine to die #im a loser in this game #the only one rule of this world #save me take my hand #please use me like a drug #i know i love you #say you love me. say you love me to the end of the world #all or nothing i want all if you #I know i love you #say you love me say you love me to the end of the world #all or nothing i give all of you i know i love you #chills this is the Rindou song #this song encapsulates every feeling i have for him #hal talks #i love him so much i'm gonna throw up #my actual fucking baby I'll fight anything for him

[catholic-character-tournament]

FINALS - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Wolfwood

I love him. Man who has no faith in himself or humanity or god with so much blood on his hands, fighting for something he knows he can never see come to fruition in person. He carries his own literal cross and grave marker on his back. Just… he’s so iconic to me.

I'm sure I'm not the first to submit him. But I did it anyway. I hope he wins and I'll do anything in my power to make sure he does

Dude is literally a priest who carries around a giant cross. Yes he uses the cross to murder people but that is besides the point. Also he has a mini church he carries around for on-the-go confession services.

hes literally a priest(hes not a priest in the reboot but he is in the original and thats what matters to Me). he carries around a cross that is actually secretly a gun with guns inside that gun. he runs a church/orphanage. he carries around a portable confession booth and charges people money for it because he is broke as fuck. he dies bleeding out over an alter begging to god for forgiveness he doesnt think he deserves. he is everything to me.

look at this man he's a priest with a cross shaped gun that (spoilers) dies against the side of a church while waxing poetic about life and redemption (/spoilers), this is the Catholic ever.

Wolfwood is liiiiiterally Judas coded in the text. AND his weapon is a massive cross that turns into a machine gun and a LASER. Not to mention his religious trauma. Oh baby. The religious trauma.

Homeboy literally walks around with a giantass 300lb machine gun shaped like a cross called the Punisher. Hes a priest/undertaker depending on what version of trigun you reference. Grew up in a church orphanage. Also literally walks around with a portable confessional box for people to pay to confess to him. Need i say more.

HE IS LITERALLY JUDAS. he is literally leading the jesus allegory to his doom. hes also in love with the jesus allegory (vash). he is also carrying arouns a giant cross rhat is also a gun. hes literally catholic and judas and his tits are perfect. in one piece of official art he's wearing a cross choker. also the catholicism on gunsmoke is about making vash submit. wolfwood looking at that pathetic wet mess of a man oh i can make him submit easily.

He literally carries around a giant cross and is referred to as a priest by multiple characters. also he offers people confessionals

He carries a huge machine gun that is in the shape of a cross that is really heavy (he is strong) and his boobs are huge. So you know hes serving cunt in a god honoring way. Also in trigun 1998 he brings around a small chapel that he uses as a portable confessional and in trigun stampede he holds funeral services as an undertaker which are way overly priced. Also he dies very gayly (basicly confessing his love to his best boy friend forever)

Nick's funny bc he's probably the least Christian acting guy but is literally a preacher. There's a running gag with Vash asking some variation of "what the hell kinda churchman are you?" His gun is a gigantic cross. He rides a shitty motorcycle in the middle of the desert.

ok so thematically the main conflict in trigun is about peace vs violence and its represented by the characters vash and knives respectively. the two aren't /technically/ angels but thematically and through imagery they are and are comparable to michael and lucifer specifically. ANYWAYS. vash and knives are the characters who are constantly pushing and pulling at wolfwood's morality, sort of like a "the devil and god are raging inside of me" kinda deal. his grappling with his morality and faith is a big factor in his character. also he has a giant fucking gun shaped like a cross. and he dies in a church while praying.

Bros an orphan who grew up at a Catholic orphanage and taken away to be trained and genetically changed into a supercharged assassin for interworldly beings that have lots of angel imagery attached. Guy thought he was just going to be taken to become a missonary...instead he got 6 years of religious trauma. He still wears a cross necklace and holds it often. His gun is a literal cross "full of mercy" (its a missile launcher). He never really believed fully in the faith or anything, but the way he interacts with it is FASCINATING. He's jaded by the planet he lives on and his upbringing, and makes him say his most iconic quote: "We're nothing like God. Not only do we have limited powers, but sometimes we're driven to become the devil himself." He prays to a God he doesn't know if he actually believes in, asking for another day— for hope for the human race. The organization hes part of (The Eye of Michael) works for an interdimensional otherworldly being that has an incredible amount of angelic metaphor and imagery attached who intends to purge the planet of humans... and ends up siding with that guy's twin brother who is so Jesus coded it's insane. They are best friends even as Wolfwood is acting under instructions to babysit and watch him for his twin brother. He dies after facing down against his old mentor (named Chapel) and his pseudo brother from the orphanage who was taken into the Eye as well and his Jesus bestie buries him and sticks his cross-gun in the ground after losing his shit crazy style and using his pseudo alien angel Jesus powers to lash out at his brother for being the cause of Wolfwood's death. Rest in peace king

64.media.tumblr.com

via @monvment

Sister Michael

She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.

joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?

she does love a good statue it has to be said

She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3

sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.

#cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #r8 #the derry girls #derry girls #sister michael #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #wolfwood #trigun wolfwood

[de4dlyniightshade]

I’d really just like to request your most feral Spencer Reid headcanons. SFW, NSFW, raunchy, tame - whatever. Just your like “I will fight anyone who disagrees, they are fact” type headcanons.

(Because I reread all your headcanons and love every single one)

I BEEN WAITING ON SOMEONE ASKING THIS! i've also just been meaning to make a hc post.

i was gonna split them into nsfw and sfw but they just ended up all mixed together 0-0

submissive and breedable spencer truther til i fucking die i'll get him pregnant don't play with me.

loves messy kisses like spit running down his chin, tongues down each others throat, desperately gripping at each other type of kisses.

maybe just me projecting and taking what mgg said as gospel truth but i fully believe that spencer loves a curvy woman, not even just for sexual reasons he also loves to rest his head on a nice big pair of boobs or thighs.

speaking of, boob guy! shamefully, but still a boob guy! adores groping your boobs whenever he can and would have your boob in his mouth 24/7 if he could, has literally fallen asleep with his head under your shirt and your nipple in his mouth.

munch! like the biggest munch ever, loves nothing more than coming home from a long day and burying his face between your thighs or having you ride his face.

knows full well that toys are his teammate and not his competitors and has no insecurities about you using toys on yourself or owning any.

does not care how well groomed you are, if you asked him what he preferred he'd be like??? it's literally none of my business???

needs lots of reassurance during sex, he just likes to know that he's doing good and making you feel good throughout the whole thing.

doesn't like talking about his sex life, especially with derek, no matter how hard he pressed and pries spencer wont let anything but the bare minimum out.

i imagine he's more drawn to a commanding woman, someone who will take the lead and teach him because of his inexperience and finds that he actually loves being dominated and hardly has any desire to dominate you.

really vocal! even though i've already said it like twice he just is, i can feel it in my bones, he's just such a whiny little baby and can't help but moan loudly any time you're touching him.

is completely against the idea of road head until you do it while you're on a long drive and it both changes his life and almost ends it bcs he swerved into the other lane which was luckily empty.

still gets shy when you kiss him in front even the team even years down the line.

learns to cook so he can make you breakfast whenever you're staying at his apartment.

on the same lines, lovesss morning sex, just that feeling of not wanting to get out your warm bed into the cold air, savouring the warmth in the best way possible.

had no idea what queefing was real until it happened and he was like genuinely so fascinated rather than disgusted.

i feel like spencer would own a bird for sure, not just bcs of gideon but he did help him realise how cool birds are which made him get one, probably a cockatiel or parrotlet with some silly name like dave.

all bark, no bite. likes to act a big game in front of others but the second you're alone he's begging and calling you mommy.

loves nothing more than waking up before you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before carefully and quietly getting out of bed to make you breakfast with the intention of bringing it to you but when you wake up before him and sneak up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist he can't help but melt.

very open to experimenting further down the line, anything you want to try he'll try at least once, except for blindfolds on himself, would be completely open to blindfolding you though.

loves public touching, not outright sex but he'd love when you subtly brush your hand over his crotch or take a handful of his ass in a public place.

teaches you how to knit and cries when you actually make him something like a sweater or even just a hat bcs he realises that's why you wanted to learn in the first place.

can't ride a bike.(this is definitely me projecting bcs i can't but i just feel like he can't okay)

lana enjoyer!!! especially if you are, he just wants to understand all the things you love and if you love lana so does he, he'd love to hear you ramble about your favourite songs and would take note of them and listen to them asap and tell you he loves them even if he didn't like some that much bcs he loves how happy it makes you.

wouldn't want to introduce you to his mother too soon but if you ended up meeting her by chance he'd be sweating buckets in case you didn't get along but you two just bond over your adoration for him and he's just so happy about it.

probably took a while to warm up to physical touch in the beginning bcs of his germophobia but when he finally does he regrets not doing it sooner.

washes his hands every single time before touching you sexually, not even for his benefit, he just wants to be as safe as possible with you.

loves elvis and almost proposes on the spot when you offer to dance with him to can't help falling in love, secretly sheds a few tears while you waltz around his apartment in your pyjamas.

okay i've definitely left stuff out that i've thought of but this is long asf so i'll leave it there😭

#💌 headcanon segment!!!∩^ω^∩ #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic

[macfrog]

secrets cowboy like me chapter fourteen

one day i'll rein my chapters back in. today is not that day. thirteen thousand words of...a little bit of fucking and a lot of fighting. i love you all and i still can't believe the love you continue to show this series. you're all actually insane. i present to you: the penultimate chapter of cowboy.

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: the one where...everybody finds out.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), a big argument, a lot of guilt, angry disappointed dad, one mention of alcohol consumption, lil bit of sub!joel, unprotected piv, tiny bit of degradation, tiny bit of praise kink, creampie, cursing, smut, fluff, angst 

word count: 12.9k (dry heaves) 

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

You haven’t slept a wink. Not one second.

You and Joel were awake until one in the morning on the phone; you – panicking, spilling words into the receiver, watching different cuts of your dad realizing everything as though projected across your blank ceiling, and Joel – monotone as fucking ever, batting every single theory away.

He doesn’t know a damn thing, he’d said. You didn’t miss the way his words hung over the edge of the sentence, trembling almost.

You scoffed and hissed back down the line. You don’t fucking know that! How can you know that?

You think he just found out about us and thought, Hey, better get some shut-eye before I deal with this? Really, baby?

I think he doesn’t know what he found out. I think he’s probably tryna convince himself that he’s wrong.

So, let him. He’s wrong. We go with that.

Joel knew he wasn’t doing anything to calm you down. Wasn’t offering anything you could seriously take on. You know he wasn’t trying to.

He was as worried as you were – he was just pretending not to be, because what fucking good would it do to have the two of you bouncing off one another with panic?

Still, he stayed on the phone the entire night. When he fell asleep, you lay in bed and tossed everything over in your head like tearing back the pages of a diary. Last night, then Frank’s, then the weekend before that, then the Hillcrest – all the way back to that first ride home. The pissing rain, the boxes of nails rattling in the glove compartment with each sway of the truck. Recalling every word spoken, every move made, every expression pulled and glance stolen and fucking breath taken.

Any sound from beyond your door shot a bullet of adrenaline through your veins, coursing through your body like ice. As if it was your dad, barreling in at 3AM to have it out with you.

You reckon you’d be ready if he did. Wide-eyed, fists clenched, heart hammering.

Joel groans back to life at eight. You hear the ruffling of bedsheets, the crackle down the line as he drags the phone across his mattress and pins it to his ear. You lift your own. Joel and 08:43:36, 37, 38 underneath it on the screen.

His voice drums low and groggy from the speaker. “You are gonna have my phone bill through the damn roof. I’m exhausted, darlin’.”

“I can’t think of anything else. He knows, Joel.”

He sighs. You can see his head falling into his hand, see his thumb rubbing circles into his temple. “Let’s just see what happens, alright? There ain’t any chance you left your phone in the living room ‘n he came across it, thought he’d keep it for you comin’ home?”

“I’ve barely left my room all week. Why would it be down there?”

Joel’s quiet. He just breathes down the line. After a minute, he clears his throat.

“Come over, would ya?”

“Huh?”

“Come over. I wanna see you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Joel, I’m –”

“Hey. Don’t make me ask again, alright? C’mon, now. I got some errands to run; you’re coming with me.”

He doesn’t have to say much else to convince you; you’re already pulling your bedsheets back and hanging up. Your hoodie and shorts are still hooked over the foot of your bed. The sun filters through the drapes, edges you nearer the door. Your chest fills with something calling itself bravery, and slowly, quietly – you click the door open.

The hallway is silent. A blushing gold in the morning light. The house is still – eerily still. Your dad’s room door is open, bed made, sheets tucked neatly under the mattress. Like he had time to spend on it. Stuff to mull over as he made it.

The carpet softens your footsteps when you finally move for the stairs. The birds are singing outside. The wallpaper canvases your shadow, a little monster creeping along one step behind you, passing picture frames which dazzle with sunrays and mirror a half-lit reflection back to you. One side you – the other, missing.

You lean over the last step, craning your head and shoulders into the hallway. The clock on the wall opposite ticks to no one. Tick tick tick tick. And aside from it, from its taunting tutting, there are no other signs of life. His jacket hangs from the peg. His boots lying below, laces tangled.

The sun separates into brittle shards through the window, illuminating the way to the kitchen. You’re not fucking prepared to follow it.

Shoulders hunched, like it might make a difference, you step forward and lower your thumb and index finger over your keys, aiming for them like a shaky arcade claw machine. Tick tick tick. They jingle as you hook your fingertip through them. Your nose wrinkles.

“Hey.”

He appears around the corner like an apparition. The keys drop back to the unit with a violent clatter.

“Jesus!”

“Woah, woah.” Your dad holds a palm up, laughing nervously. “Sorry. Where you headed?”

“Uh, J– Sarah’s. Some errands she wants some help with.”

He nods. “Yeah? You don’t want breakfast first?”

You drag your eyes to meet his for the first time. He looks drawn, skin like webbing, as though it’s just draped over his skull. As though you could put your finger through it like parchment, just push straight through. He looks like he’s had about as much sleep as you have.

“No, thanks,” you say, the sunken, sullen sight of him crumbling your voice to dust. Your lips move wordlessly, waiting for another lie from your tongue to offer over. But between the way he looks, weary and forlorn, and the thin veil of truth left between you – nothing materializes.

“Why don’t you – why don’t you hold back a second?” Dad beckons you forward, folding his fingers to his palm. “Got somethin’ I wanna talk to you about.”

“Dad, I really gotta go, I –”

“Just – come on. I’m sure Sarah won’t mind.”

He disappears without waiting for a response. Shifts back into the living room, shadow following him like a cloak across the door. You hear the creak of his chair as he settles down into it, the unsettling squeal of leather and spring.

Your feet are planted to the hall floor. To move in either direction feels like a trap. To follow after him – sit opposite and swallow back what you think you know is coming. All of his suspicions stuck in your throat like a bitter, powdery pill. Or to turn away – leave him in an empty house, nothing but the sound of his own breathing and that tick tick tick affirming your guilt.

No more excuses filter through – none of Joel’s ideas, none of his explanations. You let your shoulders drop and your eyes close. The only image behind them is that six-foot, graying, droning idiot who’s probably sat waiting for you to pull up so he can take you to fucking Trader Joe’s or whatever.

And his shirt, which he’d probably drape over your shoulders before he’s even said hello. And his smile, which would draw you onto your tiptoes, draw your lips to his. And his hands, and his waist, and his pulse in step with yours as you follow him around the quiet store, the Saturday morning air daring you to hook your fingers around two of his every now and then. The longing a gnawing in your chest, burrowing deep beneath the cage of your ribs.

He's not here, though. It’s just you. And if you call him now, if he shows up unannounced – it’s only going to confirm what your dad thinks. Fuck it – what he knows.

So you unstick your sneakers and haul yourself through to the living room.

He’s rocking in the chair when you sink back into the couch. Balls of his feet pushing him back and forth. His fingers to his lips, like keeping the words at bay for now. Like feeling the jagged shape of them through his skin.

You throw a pillow over your legs, shaggy ivory fringe tickling your bare thighs. Your dad doesn’t speak. When you lift your head, his eyes flit from yours down to your restless fingers knitting the tassels of his pillow.

“What is it?” you croak.

“Mind if I ask you somethin’?”

You shrug. “Go for it.”

He waits a beat. A hesitation. Like he doesn’t want to ask the first question. He’s at the edge of a cliff. One more step and he’s plummeting down the rocky side, into a fog of cloud. Nothing will ever be the same. Only – you’ve already pushed him. He’s already falling. He just hasn’t realized it yet.

Maybe he feels the drop in his stomach, right now. Maybe the wind screams in his ears. He finally asks, “When were you gonna tell me about y’all gettin’ into a barfight on Friday night?”

Unexpected. But keep your fucking cool.

Your fingertip whitens, blood halted by the knot of the cushion fringe. You chew on a torn leaf of skin from your lips. “What?”

“You ‘n Joel. When he picked you up. What the hell happened?”

Your eyes slide from his to the patio door behind him, garden lighting up with the sun scaling higher in the sky. You stare there until it burns, until it’s all just a blur of color in your vision, and then pull a half-blinded gaze back in his direction.

You’re frozen, as if he has you at gunpoint. Shoulders tense, eyes wide. Dontshootdontshootdontshoot. “Who –? Who said that?”

“Hank. Was on the phone to ‘im last night. Anna said Joel was squarin’ up to some kid in Frank’s. You wanna tell me exactly what happened?”

“Nothing.” Liar. “Nothing happened. It was just some asshole. Joel was just lookin’ out for me. For us. Me ‘n Anna.”

“She told Hank he knocked the kid out. That Sam had to stop it from gettin’ outta control.”

He stares at you, and there’s no mask on his face. No cover, no disguise. He’s suspicious. And he doesn’t care that you know it. He’s not just asking about the barfight.

“Are you gonna say it or am I, hon?”

“Say what?”

Your last thread of insane hope that he’s innocently wondering about Frank’s is snapped in two by the words that tear out of his mouth, so quick they rip into your skin like shards of glass.

“What the hell’s goin’ on between you two?”

Your body suddenly drops further into the couch, the weight of your blood freezing to ice in your veins. Your joints seize, your jaw locks. Air passes across your open lips with no intention of carrying words back out the way it came. You forget any ability you had previously to come up with excuses, to cover up, to lie. Hell, you’re not sure you’d remember your own fucking name if he asked that next.

You say nothing. And he cocks his head, drums his fingers on the arm of his chair.

Say something.

“Nothing.”

Say something more convincing.

“Nothing?” you repeat, a shrill pitch in your voice like it’s a question. Like he’s dumb for even thinking there might be something weird going on. Like he’s the idiot.

The clock in the hall ticks to itself, amused. Fifteen little snaps. Each one sounds like a plate of glass beneath your feet, cracking a little more, a little deeper, a little wider. The abyss opening its wide, dark jaws beneath you.

Your dad’s expression doesn’t change. He crosses his arms, head leaning back a little. He almost looks sad. Almost looks like he might give in. Send you on your way, on your errands with Sarah.

But something recharges him, something must flicker behind his eyes, because he sits forward again and watches your reaction intently as he says –

“Then explain the text messages you been sendin’ each other.”

Another blow hits your stomach, rippling waves of white heat through you. You feel hot, a scorching panic right beneath the surface of your skin so hot that it mistakes itself for ice cold. A panic which radiates from your heart, pulsating through your entire body, every limb beginning to shudder involuntarily. Your silence is answer enough.

He sighs. Sits forward with his elbows on his knees. “I knew y’all were close, knew you cared about each other. You sure always talked to ‘im more ‘n you ever talked to me, even before you went off to college. But I’ve been noticing things lately…Something’s different. Something’s changed.”

Your eyes trace his form as he talks. It’s fucking dizzying. He’s animated, like a character from some eighties cop show who finally solved the mystery. He knows. He knows everything. Your jaw won’t move to answer.

“Seeing you two together – talking, laughing. The way you look at each other these days. ‘n you’re always near each other, ain’t you? Always hoverin’. It ain’t anything like before. That day the three of us went to Costco, that – I –” His anger seems to boil over, cascading from his lips in an angry burst of hot breath. “I felt like a spare tire in the back of the truck that day.”

“We’re…We’re just…f-friends…I don’t –”

He holds a finger up. Doesn’t want to hear it. Not until his speech is done. The sun moves behind a cloud; the living room suddenly drains of light. “That day you said you were spending the night at Anna’s. Said you were havin’ a pool day, right?”

“Right,” you whisper, eyes closing over. They feel heavy. Tired and teary.

“Right. Except,” he brings his finger down, aims it straight at you, “Hank says you weren’t never there. Anna was at Sal’s all day Sunday.”

Fuck.

“Dad…”

You’re pleading with him now. Enough, I’ve heard enough. I know you know. As if you might still be able to stop the train, dig your heels in and hold on tight to derail it. Derail his thoughts. Salvage the situation, string it back together with shame and atonement.

But he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t even hear you.

“’n that’s when I got to thinkin’ – last Monday, at Joel’s. I went over to fix his sink – you remember I told you about his sink?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “I went over there, and he’s cookin’ this great big breakfast – pancakes, all of it – and there ain’t no one else in his house. Just him. Sarah was in Nashville, you remember?”

You take a deep breath. This is it. The ship’s beginning to disappear beneath the black waves.

“I thought maybe he had someone over, maybe expectin’ that girl from the plant hire…Anyway,” he bats his hand, bats the hopeful glint in Lois’s eye from his mind, “I’m walking downstairs, on my way out, and I notice somethin’ on the floor by the door.”

His chair squeaks timidly as he moves, his right arm lowering, scooping for something you can’t see yet. But when he shakily lifts it, your eyes fall to your knees. It hangs before you, apologetic and ashamed.

Joel was right. He knew it. You palmed him off. You told him your dad wouldn’t – couldn’t – put two and two together. And here he is, sat feet from you, holding the final piece to the puzzle in a quivering fist. Proof that, when he was in the house that day, you were only feet from him. Wrapped in his best friend’s shirt, dripping wet from his shower.

“This bag,” he hisses, and the tears finally drop onto your cheeks. They scurry to your chin, gathering and throwing themselves to your chest. Your shoulders drop, your eyes still low. You can’t look at him.

He speaks slowly. Speaks through his teeth. Every word like its own poisonous jab.

“Now you tell me: what in God’s name is your bag doin’ in Joel Miller’s hallway, at ten in the mornin’, when you’re supposed to be at Anna’s?”

Your fingers touch your forehead, a burning pain beginning to sting through your skull. You can feel your pulse in your temples. You’ve never wanted Joel to be stood in front of you so badly in all your life; just to deflect some of the interrogation off of you, just to give you breathing space. Just to protect you from the onslaught of questioning from your dad.

“No,” he mutters, shaking his head. The bag hits the carpet with a thud. “No, there ain’t no way. You were at Anna’s, right? You ain’t with Joel Miller, no way. I’m thinkin’, Please, God, don’t let that have been my daughter’s bag that day. But I’m right, ain’t I? You were there, weren’t you?”

You blink rapidly. The tears multiply quicker. The room is glossed in a protective film of salt and adrenaline. Give me something to say back. Give me something to say back.

“Where were you, hon? Musta been hidin’ somewhere, right?”

Give me something please think of something please come over please walk through that door please tell me what to say.

And then it comes to you. You blink the mist from your eyes. He said…he knew about texts you’d been sending Joel. How did he…?

“How did you know about the texts?”

“Pardon me?”

You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. Your voice feels hoarse. It sounds nothing like you. “How – did you know – about – the texts?”

“That’s your concern right now?”

“How – did you know?”

He begins to sputter, like the heat turned up under a pan on the hob. “Look, hon, you had me worried sick. Disappearin’ and I got no clue where you are. Always having an excuse to go off somewhere alone, no explanation. Don’t even get me started on those marks on your neck.”

Your hand immediately clamps around your throat, hot skin stained pink hissing into your palm. Joel’s teeth on you last night. His words cushioning the sharp bite. I love you. The heat hurts, now, when it felt so comforting just a few hours ago. It burns. It throbs. It feels like shame.

Your dad’s voice brings you back into the room.

“There’s another thing – last night,” he flings a laugh to you, “you were so quiet. So damn quiet. Didn’t say a word the entire time, and then I leave for all of ten minutes, and suddenly the two of you are headin’ over to his for – what was it? UCLA pamphlets?”

There’s a break between his words, a gap which makes you think that he wants you to answer. Like he’s giving you a chance, extending his arm. But he fills the space with a jeering laugh, and keeps talking.

“Where are they, huh? These pamphlets? ‘s why you were at Joel’s, right? Go on, go get ‘em. Show them to me.”

Your face solidifies. Lips tremble. There’s a scowl pulling your brows together. You’ve no right for it to be there. “Stop it,” you seethe. “Tell me what you did.”

“He’s the only one. The only one who could get you to talk. I had to check, kiddo. I had to know.”

Your stare doesn’t let up. Your lips bolt shut, refusing to say another word until he confesses. Which he does. Almost breezily.

“I looked through your phone. While you were gone. I – I went upstairs, ‘n I took it.”

He says it casually, as though he’s simply checked the newspaper. As though he’s just relaying the columns to you. Someone’s had a baby. Someone else won three grand on a scratch card. By the way, I know you’ve been messing around with Joel.

So it takes a minute for what he’s said to hit you. But when it does, the wave crashes over your shoulders so violently that it throws you to your feet, tasseled pillow whipped to the other side of the couch.

There are tears searing across your eyes. A twisted grimace of a smile on your face, a laugh breaking roughly from your throat. Some crazed, disbelieving, ugly little laugh.

“You – you checked my…my fuckin’ phone. You – you fucking –”

His head jerks back, offended. “Hey, now, listen to me –”

“I’m not listenin’ to another word! Am I twelve?”

You stalk over to the kitchen. The rattle of your dad’s chair tells you he follows.

“Well – you tell me, hon, ‘cause right now, you’re making a lot of real stupid decisions.”

That same ugly laugh echoes around the house. You grip onto the kitchen island. The room starts to wheel.

“Who the hell are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do?” you pant, eyes tight shut. Your thumbs begin to slip, sweat gliding between your skin and the counter.

“I’m your father! I’m lookin’ out for you, damnit! You think I wanna be havin’ this conversation with you right now?”

The granite countertop blurs in and out of focus when you open your eyes. You hook onto it, using it to haul yourself around the island until there’s distance between your wobbly figure and his. And you remember one week ago, when the same counter separated you and Joel, and you think of Joel, and think of his fingers around your wrist, and his fist against Knox’s jaw, and his teeth in your neck.

“Look,” your dad’s voice floats somewhere over the image of Joel’s eyes, “let’s just – let’s calm down. You ‘n me – we’re gonna talk this out. We’re gonna have a calm, mature discussion about all of this. You’re gonna tell me exactly what’s been goin’ on, and then I’m gonna head over to Joel’s – alone – and talk to him.”

But his voice doesn’t sound calm. There’s a tremble to it – a tremor as fragile as glass, as thin as ice. It’s crackling as he speaks. He can hardly keep a hold on it himself.

If he goes over to Joel’s – this you know – there ain’t anything calm or mature that will come of it. Suddenly the images in your head warp, and it’s your fingers around Joel’s wrist, someone else’s fist against his cheek, someone else’s teeth and the venom spat between them.

“Dad,” you pant, “it’s over. He ended it. It’s been done for, like, two weeks now. It was nothing.”

“Oh, nothing, was it?” He steps closer. You retreat. Edge further around the counter, further from him. His head tilts, eyebrows curl. He looks like a vulture, eyeing its prey. “Then what were the two of you up to last night?”

“We – we went for ice cream, that’s all. He wanted to make sure I was alright.”

He’s not convinced. And he shouldn’t be, either. He coughs a laugh. “For three hours? You were eatin’ ice cream for three Goddamn hours?” His cheeks wobble as he shakes his head. Then, in a softer voice, like he’s arming himself with a chisel to prick at the weakest parts of the sculpture, “What’d he do to you, girl?”

The marble cracks and snaps wide open. Anger floods out in hot waves. Any composure you’d managed to scrape together flushes clean out of your body.

“Nothing I didn’t want him to fuckin’ do. Stop treating me like I’m some kid who’s – who’s been tricked, or something. I’m twenty-three, Dad, I’m an adult.”

His silence sends another misdirected shot of panic through you.

“I was in on it just as much as he was,” you weep, fingers searching for a scratch of beard or kiss of flannel.

Your dad scoffs then, hands slapping against his thighs, and turns away. “There ain’t no gettin’ through to you,” he announces to the timid living room.

Still bracing yourself against the island, you take the break in his tirade to catch your breath. The only thought running through your head, losing velocity with each circuit, is Joel walking through that door. His face when he notices you with your flushed cheeks and wide eyes. His hands reaching for yours, through all the lies and hurt. Your dad, stood opposite, tight as an arrow and ready to fucking fly for him. Fists balled, teeth bared.

“He doesn’t even know,” you realize, staring at the glow on the floor cast by the front door. “You haven’t told him you know, have you?”

“’course I ain’t told him. I wanted to talk to you first. Not that it’s gotten us anywhere, huh?”

“I’m gonna text him.”

“Hon, don’t you d–”

“I am not having this conversation on my own. There are two people involved here.”

You pull your phone from your pocket and scrawl some messy message to Joel. Three messy messages. Something like he knows everything, can you come over? I need you. Some needy, dramatic, helpless message.

The typing bubble appears for a fraction of a second. So fleeting that you almost miss it through your tears, before it drops back to nothing. He doesn’t reply.

Doesn’t pick up, either, when you call him. Three times in a row. Three missed calls; three Hey, it’s Joel, sorry I missed yous.

The phone rattles off the counter when you drop it, your head falling into your hands. Your dad wanders back over to his armchair and collapses into it with a sigh, his fingers massaging his temples. The two of you mirrored, the same storm circling between you, only ice in his veins and fire in yours.

Fear keeps your feet planted to the kitchen floor; adrenaline alone keeps you upright. Your fingers push hard into your forehead, an ache sat directly behind that dizzies you. Blood thudding its fists against your eyes, screaming in your ears.

How the fuck did this happen? It feels ridiculous to ask, but it’s all you got. When did the two of you get so lazy? Start forgetting to cover your tracks? Or – maybe worse – stop caring enough to even try?

Of course, saying you were with Anna was a dumb fucking move. Her dad is one of your dad’s buddies. One of Joel’s, too. That was always going to fuck it all up. And you were too caught up, too hellbent on seeing Joel, too fucking horny to stop for five seconds and keep your damn story straight.

There’s nothing to say, nothing that might fix this. There’s no winding your way out of it. The trap has you by the throat. Your jaw aches from trying to free yourself.

Your dad sways side to side in his chair, staring silently at the wall ahead of him. Your face burns with shame, with anger, with embarrassment. Your heart stings from the hurt, from wanting Joel here, from his ignoring your pleas for help. And, most annoying of all – from letting your dad down.

It doesn’t matter what you tell yourself. How you spin it. Sure, you’re twenty-three. You can make your own decisions. That much is fucking clear now. Doesn’t mean they’re always good. Even when they make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, make your stomach flip with excitement, make you scream from pleasure.

Make your heart do things you’ve never felt it do before. Things you never knew that it could do.

You let your dad down. He can barely look at you for it. You know damn well that it was worth every second, and yet, right now, nothing but thick, awkward, unbreathable air between the two of you – it feels like it should never have happened.

You’re bent over the counter, head resting on your folded arms, breathing still staggered – when you hear it. The squeal of brakes outside. An engine cutting. A door slamming.

Two knocks on the door, and Joel pushes it open. You’re already in the hallway, watching his heavy head and loose shirt cross the threshold.

He looks up and your eyes meet. His hair’s a mess, he’s in the same tee from last night. He’s gotten straight out of bed and into his truck, and he’s braced, like he doesn’t know what’s coming. Which direction to expect the first punch from.

Your knees weaken at the sight of him. The safe haven of his arms, the home of his chest. The beating pulse behind it whose language you’ve become fluent in. Even now, when everything’s fallen apart, his being here washes relief over you like cool water dousing an inferno. Your body relaxes, your breathing quietens.

Joel nods towards you. You okay?

You shake your head lightly, and he flicks his fingers. You’re in his arms before your brain tells your limbs to move.

“’s okay,” he breathes, lips lined with your ear. His chest is soft, warm; you take fistfuls of his shirt. He strokes your hair, mumbling, “Told you we’ll be alright, yeah? It’s goin’ to be alright.”

You weep into him, lips dripping with salty tears. They part to reply, when a low growl rips between your bodies. Joel loosens his grip and you step back, turning around to face the ghost of your father at the end of the hall.

“Get the hell away from him.”

He advances, takes a few steps forward. You meet him halfway, gripping onto his shirt, planting yourself firmly between him and Joel.

“Woah, woah,” you say, pushing on his small chest, “let’s all just calm down. Dad.”

He’s smaller, scrawnier, older, and weaker than Joel. He’s never going to lift a fucking hand to him. Not if he wants to keep it intact. He wouldn’t square up to a fly, never mind an actual worthy opponent – but your gut tells you to make damn sure he doesn’t even try.

“Get out of the way, hon.”

“No. No way. And let you –? No.”

He’s not even looking at you. You’re nothing but an obstacle. He’s staring a few feet behind.

“Baby,” Joel says, voice weary and surrendered. “It’s alright, now. C’mon, outta the way.”

“Baby?” your dad seethes. “You just call my daughter baby?”

“Called me it as long as he’s known me, Dad.”

“’s different now,” he spits. “What the f–? I mean, what the fuck, Joel? What were you even thinkin’? Putting your Goddamn hands on my daughter?”

You don’t usually hear your dad curse. All through growing up, even when you left home – you could count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard it. It sends a bolt of fear through you as if you’re five years old again, and he can’t do much worse than say bad words in front of you.

You don’t usually see your dad do any of this stuff. Raise his voice, ball his fists. Lean forward, feet planted on the ground, like daring Joel to make the first move. Joel – his best friend. The guy he was supposed to be able to trust more than anyone in the world.

Angry. Furious. And you think: if there were a time he had a right to feel this way, to act like this and throw threats around as though they’re light as air, if ever there were a moment – this would be it. A betrayal. A secret this big.

Joel takes a step forward. He doesn’t seem scared. More – placating. Letting the tantrum run its course. He holds his hands out. “Let’s just – let’s just talk.”

“Talk,” your dad repeats, spitting the word like it’s rotten in his mouth. “You wanna talk? Let’s talk. What the hell have you been doin’ to her? Hm?”

Joel shakes his head, shoulders lifting. “I ain’t been doin’ nothin’ to her. That’s not what this is.”

“Hell,” your dad scoffs, “not what it is. Why don’t you explain to me exactly what it is, then, Joel? If it ain’t you takin’ advantage of a young girl? Takin’ advantage of my kid?”

Your head whips back to face Joel, hand lifting in a bracing motion. He sees it – sees the way your head shakes, imperceptible to your dad. Please don’t tell him. Not yet.

It’s bad enough that he knows you’ve been messing around. It hurts enough that he knows you’ve been lying for the entire summer. Telling him the full story – the conversation in the truck, the words exchanged over ice cream and the quiet tick of traffic lights across the street – would only hurt more. Would only sharpen his anger. He’d ask more questions; he’d drive his dagger deeper.

Joel pleads with you. His eyes do his bargaining. You don’t relent. Please.

“You know what I keep thinkin’ about,” your dad interrupts, “you know what’s runnin’ through my mind? That damn garden party. Those cupcakes. You puttin’ your thumb on her lip. I should’ve known the second you touched her what was happening. You arrogant, shameless son of a bitch, Joel, you got no idea what you –”

“Dad. Enough.”

Sure, you’re trying to calm him down, palms outstretched and motioning like he’s a wild horse, rearing frantically and threatening to crush you. But it also stings to hear him talking about Joel like that. Talking to him like that.

The same Joel he’d sling an arm around, knocking their beers together when the Rangers won. The same Joel you know he’d spent hours sat out back with, talking into the night and sharing stories and secrets with the stars.

The same Joel who covered your legs with his jacket last night, who held you when you were hurting, who reminded you what it was like to feel your heart again, beating rapidly in your chest.

He’s not talking about the same Joel. Not the Joel you know. Yours.

He’s still rambling. “…’n all this time, you pair have been closer ‘n you were lettin’ on.”

“You don’t understand,” you plead, “you don’t know him like I do.”

Your dad scoffs, twisted smirk on his face. “Oh, I know ‘im. I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer and a hell of a lot better ‘n you have, hon. Known him since he was fifteen, askin’ me ‘n my buddies to buy ‘im a case of beer from the liquor store. His little brother in ‘n outta jail like God only knows what. I know exactly what he’s like.”

“What he’s like?” you huff, exasperated. You spin on your heel, arms coming down on your sides with a slap. “Joel, help me.”

“Don’t you dare look at ‘im! Listen, kiddo, I know him. Know what he’s like at Frank’s, takin’ women home left ‘n right, then forgetting their damn names. Know he sure as hell can’t remember that schoolteacher’s name, can you, Joel? You remember her?”

“Quit it,” you tell him over your shoulder, still facing Joel.

Your dad laughs from behind you. It turns your stomach. “I’ll bet he never told you about that one, did he? That’d turn you off ‘im in a heartbeat, wouldn’t it?”

“Nah, he told me about Jess.”

Your dad’s voice cuts. Joel’s head finally lifts, his eyes ungluing from the floor to look at you.

You shrug back. “I figured it out. Sister’s name is Mia – she’s a year younger ‘n me.”

You swear he almost fucking smiles. Almost. It’s funny, or at least, it would be if you weren’t both in the middle of tearing your entire dynamic apart. Any other time, he’d nudge you, or tousle your hair, and say you were too clever for him, or something about being old again.

When you turn back to face your dad, he looks like he’s run out of words. So, he repeats ones he’s already said.

“I…Well, I know him, honey. And he ain’t someone you oughta be with.”

“How’d you figure that?”

He sighs. “I just told you my reasons.”

“’cause he wanted beer when he was a kid and he’s slept with people before? ‘cause Tommy gets himself into trouble – trouble that Joel then gets him out of?”

“No, I –”

“You don’t know a damn thing about any of this. You won’t listen to me. If you’d hear me out – hear us out, then you’d –”

“Don’t you dare tell me I’d change my damn mind. Don’t – you – dare.” Your dad’s voice is quiet and slow. Dangerous. Laced with something you’ve never heard in it before. It’s not worth finding out what.

Your head shakes, knee jerking with nerves. “I don’t…I don’t know what else to say.”

The fire flickers, loses light for a second. His voice softens. “Honey…This –” he waggles his finger between your body and Joel’s, “this thing y’all have been…It ain’t right. It is not right, what y’all have been doin’. You are far too young for him. He should know better, and the fact that he doesn’t – well.”

Your brows tighten, eyes pinching around painful tears. “I know why you’re mad. I get it. I’m sorry. But I can’t –” You sigh. “You are suffocatin’ me, living here.”

His façade drops instantly. He pushes his fingers into his eyes, groaning. “Hon, you’re not hearin’ me.”

“I hear you loud and clear, I –”

He cuts you off, throwing his arms up into the air with another loud yell. The words melt into one long drone, a mountainous ramble which peaks and falls in pitch; one minute low and angry and the next high and frantic.

You sigh, shoving by him for the living room. Joel reaches for your hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“Baby,” he says.

“Ah!” Your dad blocks his advance, shaky finger held to his chest. “You dare, son.”

You’re swipe the bag from the floor by your dad’s chair, your change of clothes still in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Slinging it over your shoulder, you whip past your father and lock your hand with Joel’s.

“Hey,” Joel says, slowing you down. “Darlin’, where are you –?”

“I wanna leave.”

“Huh?” he asks, brows raised.

“I want to go,” you whisper.

He glances over to your dad, dumbfounded by the stairs. “Where d’you wanna go?”

Your shoulders roll. Anywhere. Just take me away.

He doesn’t hesitate; barely thinks it over. He tightens his grip on your hand and pulls you toward him. Your feet stumble over the carpet.

“Where in the hell –?” Your dad’s snarling picks up again, his final chance. “I don’t think so –”

Joel’s backing up towards the front door, led by the pull of your hand. “Emotions are pretty high,” he announces, “why don’t we have this conversation once everybody’s calmed down?”

“Joel, if you take her, I’ll–”

“I ain’t takin’ her anywhere. She’s an adult.”

Liar. His hand wouldn’t let go of yours if you tried to pry it from his clutches.

“I’m leavin’,” he says, “she’s just coming with me.”

Your dad barks your name, and you freeze. Joel stops, too, allows you the time to turn. Like a deer in the headlights.

“I’m going, Dad,” you shakily tell him.

“I swear to God,” he says, “if y’all walk outta that door…”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean for any of this.”

He shakes his head. “Stay, hon. Let’s talk.”

“You’re not talkin’, though. All you wanna do is argue. I wanna go with Joel.”

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere with no one! ‘specially not him!”

You shrug, give your head a solemn shake. “Stop me.”

Joel hears the exhaustion in your voice, the scratch of your throat. The way the words melt into one another. He tugs on your hand, leading you through the front door. Your dad doesn’t speak again, and you don’t turn back to check on him.

The neighborhood is silent in the early morning. Yards empty, curtains still closed. No one, not even the sun, tucked behind a thin veil of cloud, sees when you pile into the front seat of Joel’s truck.

“Baby,” he says, pulling your seatbelt over your body.

Your eyes fix on the asphalt ahead. “Just drive.”

“Hey. Look at me.”

When you turn to him, he takes your jaw in both hands. “I love you,” he says.

“Still?” you squeak, eyes heavy with sleeplessness and tears.

“More.”

“This is fucking insane, Joel.”

He nods. “Yeah. ‘n you’re worth all of it.”

“Hey,” Sarah calls when the two of you spill in through the front door. She’s on the couch, Switch console in hand. “What’s up?”

“We have a – a lodger, for the next…little while,” Joel grumbles, tossing his keys onto the sideboard. He kicks off his boots and slides them to the wall, straightens up and looks to you.

You follow suit wordlessly, slipping out of your sneakers. Joel places them by his.

“Cool,” Sarah says, standing up. “How come?”

“Just – dad trouble,” you whisper, deflated. She’s wandering around the couch. A defeated sound rings from the console hanging from her thumb.

Her head tilts. “I…I got plenty room for you,” she flashes you a warm grin, “it can be like a big-ass sleepover.”

You return her smile, a slow, grateful breath filling your lungs. Joel’s arm wraps over your shoulder as your mouth opens to answer.

“No, uh…” He clears his throat. “She’ll be in my room. With me.”

Sarah’s expression is blank. She blinks between the two of you, arms limp either side of her hips. Your eyes flit from Joel to her and back again, wide, waiting. Waiting for someone to move, or speak, or yell.

Joel looks indifferent. Unbothered. As if he just told her it’s sunny outside.

She takes a step forward, and by instinct, you draw back. “Sarah…” you mutter, and she swings around the newel post. She dodges your outstretched hand, whether accidental or deliberate – you’re not sure.

“No, it’s…Okay. Yeah. I’ll – I gotta…Yeah.”

You watch as she climbs the stairs backwards, still looking from your pleading face to her dad’s stoic. She shrugs, wiggles the Switch and mumbles something about it needing charged, before she’s spinning and taking the last few steps two at a time.

When her bedroom door closes, you slump back. Joel doesn’t let go of your shoulder, catching you and pulling you into his chest.

“Fuck,” you whisper, lips pressed against his tee. He smells like pine, like mint, like you.

“’s okay,” he says into your hair, hand curving the shape of your skull. “She���ll come around. You know Sarah.”

You turn, ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat. It doesn’t tell you anything new. You miss the days you used to listen for secret messages in the soft rhythm.

Joel’s chin rests on the crown of your head. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “None of this is your fault, you hear? None of it.”

“Now you’re just lyin’ to me. You know that ain’t true.”

A hum rumbles against your cheek like the earth readjusting, rearranging beneath your feet. You lift your head, loosen your grip around his waist.

“You need sleep,” he tells you, thumb swiping gently beneath your heavy eyes.

You don’t protest.

Joel takes your hand, leads you mutely upstairs and into his room. His bed’s not made. The shades aren’t even open. He lifts the sea of sheets, tosses them twice in the air and then pulls the corner back, letting you sit on the edge of the mattress.

He undresses you carefully, like your limbs might crack and burst at the slightest touch. He replaces your hoodie with a fresh tee of his own, one that still smells like the world before its end, and you lay back into bed slowly.

It’s shaped like you – the divot in the mattress. You slot back into it like you never left. The curl of your back and the fold of your knees. You’ve left little pieces of evidence all over the place – all over Joel.

He runs a delicate hand across your head, the repetitive movement lulling you off to sleep. Pushing the boat out.

“You need anythin’?” he asks.

You shake your head, arms wrapping tight underneath your pillow. “I’m good,” you whisper, and the waves pull you under.

His bedside lamp is on when you stir, the left half of the room a glowing honey color. His bare leg slotted between yours, your hands intertwined on his chest. His finger drifts back and forth against your palm, the strokes matching your breathing.

You’re still tired, eyes still rolling beneath heavy lids, but when some commentator screams at the game playing on the TV screen, you snap awake.

Joel curses under his breath, begins tearing the bed apart for the remote – but by the time he turns the volume down, your head is propped against his pillow, knuckles rubbing your eyes.

“Sorry, baby,” he sighs, kissing your forehead as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“’s okay.” You flash him a lazy smile. “What time is it?”

“Almost five thirty.”

“Damn,” you mutter. “Slept all fucking day.”

“You needed it,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “You want some dinner? Or – breakfast?”

You nod. “Sounds good.”

He disappears downstairs. The echoing of pots and pans and the hum of the extraction fan follow in his wake. You groan, stretching out like a starfish across the messy bed, forgetting for just a moment why you’re here, and what’s happened, and how different everything is.

It feels the same, even after eight hours sleep. Same guilt, and shame. Same anger and resentment towards your dad. Same punch to your gut anytime you picture his face, the wrinkled frown. The trembling fist holding your bag in midair.

The blow is soothed only by the swelling of warmth across your chest, looking around the room. The safety you feel here, as though you’re cut off from the rest of the world. Your father on pause the second you left the house; Joel’s room and his bed giving you time to catch your breath and recalibrate.

You’re not thinking about when you’ll have to go back home. You’re just not.

You knot your shorts back around your waist, take one huge swig of the water Joel left for you, and open his bedroom door, your head throbbing with each movement.

There’s a figure at the end of the hall, frozen in space like a phantom.

“Morning,” she says. Her hair is tied back, oversized hoodie over her shoulders.

“Hi.”

“You sleep good?”

“Must’ve. Missed half the day.”

Sarah smiles.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

“Hm,” her head tips back and forth, “not today. Don’t have the energy. Watch your back tomorrow, though.”

For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, a genuine laugh pushes its way past your lips. The knot in your stomach loosens, even if only a little.

“You wanna come help with dinner?” she asks, nodding to the stairs.

You smile. “Please.”

The three of you settle on pasta with some tomato sauce from a jar mixed through. You sit opposite Sarah as Joel sets the plates down, sliding into the seat next to yours with a gentle squeeze on your knee under the table.

The three of you talk. About nothing in particular – college, Rita and her cross stitch, some client of Joel’s whose wife got caught having an affair – but it soothes the ache in your heart. It feels like a blanket over your shoulders, a spot by the fire, a voice in your ear promising you that things are still okay. That they can still be this way: light, alive. The earth is still moving, the stars are still pinned up in the sky. Tomorrow will always come, and the day after that.

Sarah asks about LA. You tell her you didn’t know she knew. She grins and says, “Well, now that I do – you better put an application in.”

You hum around the fork between you lips. “Maybe.”

“Come on. The two of us out there together? For six whole months? You gotta do it. Tell me you don’t wanna do it. Are you gonna do it?”

Joel casts her a glower, his stony expression pushing her back in her chair.

Your eyes shift from hers over to his. He runs a slice of garlic bread around the curve of his plate, coating it in sauce, before he notices you staring. His face breaks into a tiny smirk.

“I don’t know,” you decide, turning back to Sarah. “I still gotta think it through.”

She nods earnestly. “Yeah, you should sleep on it. And then, first thing tomorrow, we’re doing it.”

The two of you let her have the final say, falling quiet until some new conversation is shifted onto the table, and then another, and then another. When you’re done eating, Sarah takes your hand and drags you back upstairs.

Sarah Miller’s bedroom has been baby pink for as long as you can remember. Joel painted it one summer while she was at camp, eliciting help from your dad to shift all the furniture. As she grew up, she covered the walls in posters, changed the sheets, changed the curtains, strung fairy lights to distract from what she saw as a kiddish color.

But she never asked to change it. Always wanted the same blushing pink her dad had picked out when she was ten – even if secretly.

Her blinds are tilted, golden light from the slowly lowering sun filtering through onto her carpet, stained with tiny dabs of nail polish. She throws herself down onto the bed, her curls igniting brown in the summer light, and you slowly sink down beside her.

“Nice Zayn poster,” you note, pointing to the straight-browed, dark-haired figure painted in a moody grayscale on her ceiling. “Interesting placement.”

“Was so I could dream about him every night.”

“You didn’t wanna take him to California?”

“Didn’t have to,” Sarah smiles, tapping her temple, “he’s all up here, baby.”

You snort. Your eyes flutter closed; hands clasped on your stomach. She sighs contentedly by your side, listening to the chatter of birds out front.

“I miss this,” she says eventually, her voice smooth and soothing. She elbows you lightly.

“Me too,” you reply. And then, with a deep breath: “Sarah…are you okay?”

When she turns back, the sunlight catches in her eyes. They twinkle, like she’s some doe-eyed Disney character. Someone who might be able to wiggle her fingers and make the last day disappear.

“Am I okay?”

“Yeah. With…everything.”

She shrugs, mumbles an I dunno. “What can I do about it? It’s weird, but…it’s none of my business. I guess…I guess if y’all are happy, then – you know. I’m gone half the time, anyways.”

“It is your business, too, though,” you tell her. “I don’t wanna make you feel weird.”

“I think you got bigger things to worry about right now. Sounds like your dad’s pretty mad.”

You sigh, looking back up to the boyband poster. “Yeah. He’s pretty mad.”

“My dad told me what happened. Well, parts. I can kinda guess the rest. Can’t really blame him, I guess.”

You shrug. “Guess not, but then…I am twenty-three, y’know? I’m not a kid. I can make my own mind up.”

She’s still staring at you, but you don’t return her glance. Something tells you that you already know what it says. Still, she verbalizes it.

“Would you be okay if I slept with your dad?”

That is so not what I thought you were gonna fuckin’ say.

You shoot her a look. “What?”

“’m askin’. Would you be okay with it, if I –”

You lift your hand to shut her up. “That is…so totally different.”

“How is that different?” she scoffs.

“Because…because…my dad’s not hot.”

Sarah gags.

“And – and also you’re not friends with him. It’s just different, alright?”

“You were friends with my dad?”

You’re laughing with her now. You can hear how pathetic your justification sounds. “Kinda, yeah. I was close to ‘im.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious, now, babe.”

You smack her arm and she giggles.

“I think he’ll come around. Your dad.”

“I don’t. Not ever.”

“Why wouldn’t he? His best friend would become his son-in-law, I would become his granddaughter-in-law –” She gasps and props herself up on her elbow, staring you down. “Does this make you, like, my stepmom?”

You spit out a laugh, and Sarah throws her head back against her pillow, clutching her belly.

“You’re my fuckin’ mom, dude!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you reply, covering your face with your hands. “Aw, fuck,” you breathe, giggling.

You settle back into the bed, your heads leaning against one another as you stare up at Zayn and his audience of glow-in-the-dark stars. Sarah hums something softly to herself, her ankle rocking, her fingers tapping.

The two of you were raised together. Sisters, when neither of you knew what that word really meant. You figure she’s as close as you could find – someone who reflects all of your favorite parts of yourself and who calls out the uglier ones without hesitation. Someone who comforts you with a punch to the arm, a mocking quip about your hair or the something in your teeth. A safe little secret keeper, for all of your wildest dreams and biggest fears.

“I guess this is all why you were so down in the dumps last night, right? Your dad knew then?”

You shake your head. “Not at that point. He found out after we all left. Realized it all on his own. It’s all just…so fucking stupid…”

She sighs. “My dad – if he…if he makes you happy, then I don’t even know. As long as I don’t have to see it – we’re cool.”

One cinderblock of weight lifts from your chest, allowing a rugged breath to escape. “Wish my dad would take a leaf outta your book,” you mumble.

“He’s just mad,” Sarah says. “He’s just mad, and he’ll eventually calm down.”

“Doesn’t matter even if he does calm down,” you reply. “My dad has more of a…restrictive parenting approach.”

“Can you really parent a twenty-three-year-old?”

“He finds a way to try.”

She scoffs, saying, “I get it. My dad’s more, try it ‘n see. Your dad is, like, try it ‘n see…what your punishment is.”

You both erupt into laughter, and Sarah reaches for the TV remote.

“Exactly,” you tell her, tugging on the hem of Joel’s shirt. “Although, if your dad found out you were with my dad, I don’t think he’d be cool with it, either.”

“Yeah,” she smirks, flicking through Netflix titles, “y’all got what you deserved.”

The sound of Sarah’s bedroom door closing over stirs you. Her room is the color of rust; the stream of amber sunlight on the carpet replaced by that of the streetlights. Beneath the door, the sliver of light is shifted by the sway of a silhouette walking off down the hall.

Sarah’s snoring quietly beside you, still in her jeans. Keeping an eye on her, you roll off the bed and creep towards the door, a slow groan coming from the handle as you twist it. Joel’s at the opposite end of the hall, disappearing into his room as you shut Sarah back into her warm slumber.

“Thought you were sleepin’,” he whispers when you slip into his room. He’s already sat in bed, leant against the headboard. The room a thick darkness, a black cloud of dusk spiraling around you and cutting you off from the rest of the world.

“Heard you come in.” You wander over, pausing at the side of the bed. “Wanna stay with you.”

“C’mere,” he says, holding a hand out. You take it, pulling yourself into his lap. He slips his hands under the hem of your shorts, fingertips brushing the crests of your hipbones. “You okay?” he asks, thumbs swiping gently on the seam of your thigh.

“Never better. You?”

He sighs in response and looks off to the window, the light catching his eye. You tilt your head and bend forward, kissing below his ear. He smells like whiskey. You breathe it in, inhaling like the sharp scent might fold you under a numb blanket of inebriation, too.

Joel takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you from his neck, watching the shift in your expression before he kisses you – steady, bracing. The first time since everything went so wrong.

For a few minutes you pretend nothing has changed – you’re still sneaking around, shushing one another; someone’s in the next room, there are still secrets to be kept. You slip your shorts down your legs, kicking them over the side of the bed; Joel’s sweatpants follow soon after. His hands surrender and you push up on his chest, dragging your core against his stubborn crotch, lips never losing contact. Tongues rolling against one another, noses bumping; a tangle of breath between you until you’ve no idea which is yours and which is his.

It’s all you know how to do, after all. It’s how this started, it’s how it got out of control. The two of you taking out your needs on one another. Right now is no different. You need to feel something other than the dread in the pit of your stomach, the ache in your heart anytime you look at him and know he feels it, too.

You come up for air and suddenly the feeling dissipates; doubt sets back in and fear washes over you like ice water. Your hips cease, Joel’s hands lift from your body. He pushes the hair from your face to find his own expression mirrored in yours.

Everything has changed.

You watch his movements, the light trace of his finger on your bare skin, the pinch of fabric as he adjusts his boxers. The careful movements of his own hips, trying not to incite anything more.

“I love you,” you offer, when he doesn’t say anything. Whispered, like it’s a question, like something to dangle in front of him to make him bite.

At the very least, it unsticks his gaze from the cotton print over your chest and back up to your face – where he softens and says, “Oh, darlin’. I love you, too.”

He gives you a squeeze and pulls you by the shoulders closer, letting you feel his lips on yours again and again, until you’re out of breath. You nuzzle your head under his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart at your ear.

Joel trails his hands up and down your spine. He breaks the silence first – stammers his way through a question you’re not sure how to answer.

“Was I – was I hurtin’ you? All this time?”

You lift your head, looking blankly at him. “What –?”

“Was I hurting you?”

“Hurting me?”

He nods. “Everythin’ we were doin’. Everything we’ve done. You wanted me to be doing it, right?”

He looks…scared, as though forty years have been shaved from him over the course of one day. Eyes glassy like he might burst into tears; bottom lip almost trembling with uncertainty.

You sit up and cup his face; he breathes a sigh of relief when you look him dead in the eye and say, “I wanted you to be doing all of it.”

“All of it?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you nod, “nothing you ever did ever hurt me.”

He lowers his gaze. “’cept when I left.”

“You came back.”

His thumb curves beneath the slip of fabric on your hips, toying with the elastic. There’s more in his question, you know it. He’s not convinced by a word you say.

“It’s just…all such a fuckin’ mess,” he groans, fingertips massaging his forehead.

You hesitate, unwilling to agree and unable to disagree. It is a fucking mess – that much is true. But if that’s all it is, then why does your heart pause for breath whenever you see him? Why does the mere thought of his presence, the tiniest glimpse of him – why does it all send your stomach somersaulting?

How can something supposed to be so bad, make you feel so fucking good?

“It was wrong of me,” Joel says, “to flirt with you that night I first saw you again. To put you in that position. But I did, and we ended up here. And I’m glad we did, baby, you know I am, but…it’s on me. This thing with you ‘n your dad.”

“You don’t think he should back off a little? Don’t think he’s oversteppin’ a mark, even a tiny bit?”

He shakes his head. “I’d do the damn same, ‘n you know it. I shoulda known better. Shouldn’ta let it happen. You mean more to me than the world, and I – I caused all this hurt for you.”

Sure, it’s real noble of him to take all of the blame, but it wasn’t just him. You had a part in it, too: your batting eyelashes, your hands where they shouldn’t have been. Your jaw tightens when he says it, holding back from telling him you want as much responsibility in this as he’s taking, even if he won’t allow it.

But an argument with Joel, right off the back of one with your father, isn’t really something you need. It wouldn’t help anything. So, you swallow your words and whisper new ones.

“You shouldn’t have flirted with me?”

His eyebrows flick, concern knotting them together. He sits up, scooping you in his arms. “I meant I should’ve never let it get to this point.”

“’n what about the first time you touched me?”

The memory plays between you: the weight of him on your body, the sound of the stereo system firing up downstairs. One hand between your legs and the other pinching your heart.

The light in your eyes starts to bleed through your body into Joel’s, distorting the projected image of that scene in your bedroom. It ignites somewhere low, travelling upwards until his stare locks with yours: an understanding weaving between you both.

You lean back from him, drinking in the sight. “Nothin’ but trouble, right? That’s what you said, that first night. You knew damn well where it might go. ‘n you still wanted it, just as bad.”

“Darlin’, I’m not sayin’ I didn’t, I –”

“No, no, I get it. I get it.”

You push his shoulders to the mattress. Fire in your belly, some kind of twisted energy pumping through your veins, you grind down on him again.

That thing, about this being all you know how to do? About taking your needs out on each other?

Right now, you need distraction. You need something to tire you out, to drain you of energy, to stop your thoughts for five minutes. You need someone to hold you, and love you, and make you feel good. Joel’s the perfect distraction.

He’s still hard. You’re still wet. It’s easy.

You drag your hips lazily over his, cotton riding against lace. He’s growing harder, bigger; he’s pushing up into you. You respond by pushing down, and Joel groans.

“Hey,” he takes hold of your thighs, “baby, we don’t have to –”

“Then, let’s stop.”

He says nothing.

You reach down past the band of his boxers and take him in your hand. He bites back a moan, his head falling into the pillow. You’re stroking him: long, hard strokes, fist tightening around him, fingers dipping between your folds to apply your slick to his length.

“Say the word, Joel. We’ll stop,” you pant, unsure if even you buy the words you’re saying. “You said it: none of this should’ve ever happened. You should’ve never laid a finger on me.”

His arms lift, throbbing biceps curving around his pillow and crumpling it against his skull. He doesn’t tell you to stop, because he doesn’t fucking want you to. He needs this – needs you as much as you need him, needs you more than he needs the air in his lungs.

And you’re right: it is different now. Now, it’s out in the open. The whole world could know, for all the two of you care. And maybe that’s the kick to it, now. No more hiding. No more fleeing from shadow to shadow.

You tug his underwear down and lower yourself, dragging your folds up and down the width of him while sticky precome gathers at his tip, dappling the trail of hair from his navel. And when you can’t do it anymore, when the mere sight of him drenched in your arousal threatens to send you over the edge, you line him up to your entrance and sink down, slow.

He moans into the pillow, fabric muffling your favorite sound in the world. And he doesn’t stop, his chest doesn’t stop rumbling until you reach his hilt, where he gasps.

“Darlin’,” he whimpers, hands coming back down to hold you in place.

You bat them away. “Uh-uh,” you tut, pinning his wrists above his head. “Not a – fuckin’ – finger.”

Joel grits his teeth, eyes locking onto yours, directly above him as you slide up off his cock, hips circling as you do, and then back down. Your free hand curves around his ribcage, the solid flesh of his torso stabilizing you.

“Poor baby,” you coo, pouting your lip. “Can’t even touch me. Can’t put a hand on your girl when you need to most.”

“Fuckin’ – whore,” he grunts, and your hips grind to a halt. You release his wrists.

“That what you think of me?” you ask, sitting upright on his lap. Joel’s still buried deep inside you.

“No,” he’s breathing, lips curling, “no, baby. Keep goin’.”

“I’m not the one goin’ back on my word here.”

He flashes a thick, filthy smile. “I know, I know. Go on. Make me proud.”

You lean forward again and he sighs, the feel of your wet cunt wrapping like satin around him.

“You think he’d trust you, anyway, after everythin’?” you mewl. “Think he thinks I’m in a different room right now? Tucked up in bed, safe ‘n sound? Nah, baby, he knows. He knows what you’re doin’ right now. Keep your hands off me? You can’t keep your cock outta me.”

Joel moans in agreement, hands gripping into the sheets to ground himself, hips bucking up against yours. You place your hands either side of him on the mattress and start to bounce, skin slapping, bed shaking.

“You like that, huh?” you moan, feeling the sharp kiss of his head at your cervix. Nudging, nudging, nudging. Blunt pain, blissful pleasure. “Like me riding it. Takin’ what I – oh, fuck – what I need.”

He lets out a guttural moan, writhing around underneath you. It’s like he’s forgotten where he is, forgotten you guys aren’t alone in the house; drunk on the sight, smell, sound, and feel of you on him, not even trying to stifle his sounds anymore.

You close your eyes and hope Sarah doesn’t wake anytime soon.

You’re keeping the façade up for Joel, but on the inside, you feel the exact same. His words echo in your ears, shouldn’ta let it happen, and how quickly that melted into make me proud. Your head starts to swim, your eyes heavy, your body trembling.

The thatch of hair at the bottom of his cock brushes against your clit, a gasp drawing between your teeth. Pain begins to rip upwards on the inside of your thighs, forcing you forward.

“Joel,” you pant, leaning over him. “Fuck.”

“Gotta let me touch you, baby,” he whispers, hands lifting beneath the fabric of your shirt. His fingers ghost across the curve of your shoulders. “You need it, don’t you?”

You whimper in response and Joel slips past the moment of weakness, taking a strong grip of both shoulders and pulling himself upright on the mattress. The tee slips from your body in one breath, and his hands follow the incline of your neck to your jaw, holding you steady as he fucks up into you.

“You want me to fill you up?” he asks, leaning back with a palm flat on the bed behind to watch himself disappear between your legs.

You’re nodding desperately. “Mhm.”

“Gotta ask nicely, remember? Be a good girl for me?”

“Dick,” you hiss, draping your arms over his shoulders.

He pouts. Sweat gleams on his upper lip. His voice cracks, weakens like stone beginning to crumble. “’s not v-very n-ice, baby.”

“Comeinme,” you beg, your fingers swirling around the dark hair at the bottom of his skull. “Please, come in me.”

“Atta-girl,” he groans, and his hands instantly lock on your hips. You don’t stop him this time, letting him push you down as hard as he can onto his cock, coming as deep inside you as he can.

And then – that familiar feeling of being his. Filled with him, your eyes and your nose and your mouth and your cunt spilling with the sight, smell, taste and feel of him. He coats your walls, throbs deep inside you as he claims every tiny corner of your body.

He growls as his cock twitches, and you watch his expression go from determined, to blissful, to fucking exhausted when he stills and his head rolls forward into your chest. His breath hot and staggered between your breasts; light kisses peppered onto damp skin.

You watch him through a post-sex haze, the air between you thick and blurry, as he presses his lips into your chest. He sucks along the cushion of your breast until he reaches the nipple, lips cupping around it, tongue flicking with all the effort he has left in him.

When he lifts his head again, one final kiss to your sensitive flesh, you balance his chin under your thumbs.

“You come?” he asks, the words propelled by a heavy exhale.

You shake your head slowly. “I’m tired, anyway.”

“Alright,” Joel groans, flipping you over. He pushes your thighs apart, his spend leaking from your slit and running southwards.

“Joel,” you giggle, “c’mon, I’m tired. You don’t have to –”

He’s already pushing himself lower, whipping the dark cotton tee from his shoulders and brushing his naked chest over your stomach. You lower your arms to hook under his.

“Hey. Come here a sec.”

Joel blinks up at you. “What’s up?”

“Just – come here.”

He kneels back up to you, hovering over you with his hands under your shoulders. His limp cock lies against the inside of your thigh as he lowers his weight onto your hips. You tilt your head, mapping his face.

Your knuckle runs across his cheek, the jagged bristle of his beard on your warm skin. Like running your hand under water, unable to tell whether it’s scalding hot or freezing cold – there is no saying whether you’re so used to him now that the feel of him is unaffecting, or entirely all-consuming. There’s no middle ground. Not anymore.

“I know –” You sigh, your voice swollen with a soft cry. There’s no stopping the tears anymore. They just come. “I know you think you should’ve known better. But I am so fucking glad that you didn’t.”

It’s done nothing but pour all day. You woke up this morning to the rain battering against Joel’s window, your body hooked against his by his arm.

Day four. Still no call, no text, no nothing from your dad. You haven’t exactly returned the favor – the closest you dared was having Sarah drive you to your house while he was at work so you could dip into the hallway, grab your car keys, and drive straight back to Joel’s. You pulled up in his driveway alongside each other and she rolled her window down, checking your expression before snorting.

It’s like a damn Mission: Impossible film, she jested.

The pain feels blunter, more distant than it did on Saturday. Like your father has bowed his head, faded some into the dark background of upstage. You realize, a few days in – the movie nights and the meals homecooked by three chefs; the way Joel’s scent starts to become yours, his T-shirts hanging loose over your shoulders and his boxers snug against your hips – that you forget to check on the shadow of your dad. Forget the spot he once stood in, the thunderous cloud cast over his head. The same one that so regularly used to pour rain over you.

Sarah went out with her friends a few hours ago. She called to say she’d miss dinner, so you and Joel ordered Chinese. You’re sat with your legs in his lap picking away at some noodles, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while he catches up on some baseball highlights show.

“Fuckin’ – idiots,” he mumbles, fork angrily picking at rice.

Your eyes don’t lift from the Instagram caption you’re reading. “Fuckin’ idiots,” you flatly agree.

Joel’s head turns. “Alright, Miss Big Rangers Fan. I remember a time you pretended to be into ‘em to get my attention.” He attempts to grab your phone, and you swipe it from his grasp.

“Shut up,” you giggle, grabbing hold of your takeout box. “Joel – be careful!”

He snorts, settling back into the couch, changing the TV channel. You give his thigh a little kick, tugging your blanket up. As the TV switches from one showing to the next, your phone buzzes.

You glance down, chopsticks halfway to your mouth, and freeze.

Dear Candidate…

“Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes glued to the flickering screen.

“Joel.”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You unstick your stare from the phone, looking up to meet his perplexed expression. “They got back to me.”

He squints for a second before the remote is dropped to the cushion. “And?”

“I don’t know, I just saw the first line.”

“Open it, baby. C’mon. Whatever it is, you gotta know.”

“You know what,” you shrug, “I’m good. I don’t need to know. It’s all good.”

“Hey.” Joel snaps his fingers scooping your gaze from the floral, bohemian name on the header of the email and up to his own. “Open it, or I’m kickin’ you out.”

You mock gasp. “You’d put me out on the streets?”

“Worse. Put you back to your dad’s. Now open the email.”

Your thumb trembles as it hovers over the screen, one tap away from the biggest change in your life since you left for New York. Like it’s five years ago, and you’re sat in front of your laptop, psyching yourself up to open the response to your college application.

“Okay,” you breathe, slamming your thumb down. Joel leans in, staring at the screen from upside down.

It swipes across and your eyes flit down, focusing hard on the sentence beneath the opening line. You blink rapidly, waiting for the wash of tears to clear and dissolve it to Unfortunately, or After careful consideration, or We appreciate your interest.

But it never does.

Invite to interview stares back up at you, waiting for your face to break. Expectant, a little nervous. Jittering inside your shaking fist. Joel breaks first, when he spots it.

He almost throws his food onto the coffee table, taking your container from your hands and bundling you up in his. He pulls you into his body, presses heavy kisses to the crook of your neck as you laugh, your entire body quaking with joy and terror and relief and anxiety.

“What’d I tell you?” he says, kissing you roughly. “I knew it, babygirl. I knew you would – Fuck, I am so fucking proud of you.”

“It’s just –” sniff, “– it’s just an interview, remember. I might not get it, in the end.”

Joel shakes his head. “I don’t care. You’re a damn sight closer to gettin’ it than you were three days ago.”

You sit for probably twenty minutes, laughing and then weeping and then laughing again – until the food is cold, there’s a new episode of South Park rolling on TV, and Joel’s T-shirt is soaked with your tears.

“I gotta call Sarah,” you whisper, finger sifting through his hair. Your head buried in his neck, your knees either side of his hips.

“She’s going to lose her fuckin’ mind,” he mumbles into your shoulder, laughing to himself. “She’ll sit off-camera in the corner of the room, so they can’t see her, ‘n hold up cue cards.”

You giggle, letting it dissipate into something weaker, something unconvinced. In a small voice, you say, “We just got one step closer to being four states apart.”

He looks up at you, curving a hand around your jaw, and pulls your lips against his. It’s slow, tender – his every thought and feeling translated into physical movement, transformed into a spin of butterflies in your chest.

When you pull away from him, smiling dumbly, he clips your cheek. “That scare you?”

You hesitate, afraid to tell him the truth. But it’s Joel. He knows every thought that passes through your head. You nod, eyes filling with a salty sting.

“Why?” he asks.

You glance out to the street. “’cause I love you. I don’t wanna leave you.”

Joel nods. Considers it. Then says, “You know why it doesn’t scare me?”

You lift your eyebrows in response. Why?

“Because I love you. And we are gonna be just fine.”

And you believe him.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #cowboy like me

[just-null-cult]

YO, SUPER LATE SUPER LONG SUPER MESSY OCTOBER POST THAT I JUST SHOVED EVERYTHING INTO BC I DIDN'T WANT TO DO MULTIPLE. FUCK IT.

I forgot halfway that these were supposed to be costumes and not mini aus... SO REMEMBER IN MY PLACE, EVERYTHING IS HYPOTHETICAL. also. some have a bit of yandere elements to them bc its SO FITTING FOR NORITOSHI.

Happy late October, everyone. it's winter now. Let's get it, baby.

[Long rambles and doodles under the cut!]

Vampire!

I kept asking myself, "How sexy is too sexy.." and "How the fuck does a sexy vampire even look like without it being a shirtless guy w fangs or Edward Cullen....." I think I figured it out

Sure, sure, vampires are superhumans with sun allergies that can drink blood really hotly. They can also easily overpower you to feast and blah blah blah, but what if said vampire (Noritoshi) was too weak to do any of that? Not literally, but he craves your say. He wants not only your blood but your affection. He wants to get praised as he drinks you in. Are you comfortable? How much will you allow him to take? Do you want to get him back in return? Guidance with this makes him feel more at ease. It's still Noritoshi at the end of the day. He's going to find a way to be a little awkward about you because of his crush. He refuses to drink from anyone other than you, even if it causes his death. Therefore, he has to keep you healthy! For the rest of your lives..! Besides, he can't really go outside or else he'd.. y'know. So if you think about it, this is a very beneficial relationship for both of you!!

The only downside is that you're losing blood on the regular, and for some reason, more people are moving away... Probably nothing, right? Noritoshi is always there to keep you company and help you recover anyways.

Witch!

my attempts also bled into the witch design.... you got greedy with requesting two in one ask, but I'll spoil you this time bc I also wanted to see Noritoshi as a (sexy) vampire and witch. heh. AND I DIDNT REALIZE HED BE SO CUTE AS A WITCH..... WHAT THE FUCK?? rip momo, fight for your title of cute witch...

Noritoshi strikes me as one of those witches who'd rather be left to their own devices because they're running some important magic whatever in the background. though, he'll take some breaks and indulge you if you insist on having him around. Insist meaning you pass by and strike conversation, leaving him to neglect anything and everything to prioritize his time with you. He doesn't want to use magic on you unless it's beneficial for either you or both. Noritoshi likes a natural progression with you that he knows for a fact is true and not some product of some spell. Though it doesn't mean he wouldn't use charms and such to get you to interact with him more often to speed up the process!

Can't sleep? He has a remedy perfect for that! Bad luck? Oh no, take a charm. Nerves? A potion he perfected will help you ease your jitters. Annoying peers? With a snap of Noritoshi's fingers, they're gone! Just don't ask what happened. Enjoy yourself instead and come to him with any new issue. He's quick to resolve it.

Definitely has some sort of doll that looks suspiciously like you.. Noritoshi would probably talk to it and practice one liners that give you the strongest sense of nostalgia once he uses them. He's simultaneously giddy that the charm he put in the doll works but also a little annoyed that his hard work isn't surprising you, but leaving you with deja vu.

Idol!

i was crying the entire time bc what does an idol look like.... noritoshi is handsome enough to be an idol without actually being an idol... now i can confirm that idols are very well dressed though. thumbs up 100% but i had some thoughts...

[Idol]

Noritoshi would be the type to cherish his fans, but hold clear favoritism over you. he'd be those idols that look cold, but they talk, and they sound smug in a charming way. i don't know much about idols, but i know he'd be so fucking good.... he'd be the type of guy to sing to you amongst the hundreds in the crowd.... ahhh the interviews w these famous aus. they're just talking and acting like themselves. can you imagine Noritoshi getting asked the question if he has a lover or not? he can lie, im sure you're alright with that, but he doesn't want to!! he does have someone!!! someone he loves more than all his fans love for him combined!!! he just can't say it for the sake of your privacy and his career. so Noritoshi does what any charming guy who's good with their words does. he deflects the question. answering the question, but not really, that'd be something he's known for. fans online are split on why Noritoshi does this. some think he's trying to keep that side of his life private, others think he's trying to mess around, and others think he's hiding a secret lover!!! though the last one is usually seen as the outlandish one, sometimes it makes Noritoshi's heart drop bc they get some things right. "Having a lover is a complicated question hidden behind a simple disguise. If I had to answer, I'd say my lovers are my audience. they make sure i'm well cared for, some more than others." AND HIS FUCKING LITTLE SMIRK I CANT COUGHS UP BLOOD. IM A THEORIST TOO. SECRET LOVER. 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

ON THE FLIP SIDE....

[Not an Idol]

An amusing thought where Noritoshi goes out in his casual clothes, and he's mistaken for an idol. No one knows who he is, but he just looks like he'd be one. bro's just trying to buy groceries, and now he has a fan group asking him to take pictures with them.. He'd tell them that he's just a guy, not an idol, but the group would still want a picture with him. it'd be a waste to pass by someone who's so naturally gorgeous, so with a sigh of defeat, he relents. It's just a photo, right? No harm done. Noritoshi'd go home and feel overwhelmed/embarrassed by the whole ordeal. later, he gets a call from someone in the kyoto group or you to inform him how he's all over social media, known as that handsome guy in the supermarket. HED BE COMPLETELY UNREACHABLE TO MEDIA OUTLETS BC NORITOSHI IS THAT GUY WHO DOESNT HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA.... he'd have to make one to make sure no one pretends to be him online. "Hello, I don't use social media, but I've been informed I've been getting attention online. To prevent anyone from being fooled by an impersonator, this is my official and only account. thank you." P.R. STATEMENT WRITING ASS.. his single post gets flooded with likes, comments, and DMs. it almost blows up his phone..... he was just buying bread, dude...... people try to dig up and find him through the other Kyoto group's social media.

[bonus] my second in command requested to put him in a fem idol outfit bc he thought it was funny. after frothing at the mouth and coughing out blood, I complied.

Doctor!

THIS IS SUCH A STRAIGHT FORWARD ASK BUT IT HAS SO MANY IMPLICATIONS. MY BELOVED CULT MEMBER.. THOSE EMOJIS GIVE ME A DIFFERENT IMPRESSION BUT IM NOT SURE.

Noritoshi as a doctor...... apple sales would plummet. his little clinic's business would skyrocket. sick cases would peak in his area. getting your heart checked by his stethoscope would be so fucking embarrassing bc all he'd hear is THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

LIKE IMAGINE IF THAT WAS YOUR DOCTOR? BRO.

COUGH COUGH HACK WHEEZE COUGH COUGH.

Noritoshi would probably own a small clinic that he wants to expand. That or he opened one after working for a hospital for a while. He's a great doctor who's most likely respected but a pain in the ass to work with. Among patients, he's gotten the hot doctor reputation. Most want to be treated by him, but he's so professional, any chance of trying to flirt goes down the drain. Yeah, he puts his hair up to avoid it in his face even though his eyes are closed classic lab safety procedures. He seems like the type to have a soothing but authoritative voice during examination, so he gets his message across. it's a bit difficult when dealing with patients for Noritoshi. If he sees them too often, he firstly scolds you for not taking care of yourself, then feels guilty for not giving you the proper care. Keep yourself safe and healthy, or else Noritoshi will clearly :( Putting him in a yandere setting would be dangerous. He'd have a lot of control over you, considering he can prescribe medication, shots, visits, and other things.... he'd have a ball.... nothing that would cause you any harm, of course. he's only looking out for you and doing what's best for you..!

Pirate!

my second in command wanted a pirate. pirates are so fucking cool and i know damn well if this guy were a pirate he'd have a bunch of battle scars under that fancy coat.

Noritoshi as a pirate would be more than a little odd, but also fitting. He looks like the type of guy who'd be well put together, yet he's willing to get his hands dirty. Like the guy who got into the pirate life because of some personal issue that couldn't be solved fast enough through conventional means. Even as a pirate, i imagine he holds everyone to high standards. They're still pirates though.. so his expected standards aren't even that high. He has more freedom here, so even he himself lets loose once or twice. Especially with you. He's even able to get away with more violent actions for you, the seas are unpredictable, after all. While taking some treasure, Noritoshi'd toss you a gem or golden coin, just so you can say you were the first to claim it. Just so he can see that happy glint in your eyes when getting your hands on treasure. God forbid anyone try to get their hands on your hard earned goods. They'd be met with a bullet to the foot or a sword at their neck. Everyone and their mother knows how you're his favorite, but Noritoshi downplays it. Its not a crime to help out someone from his crew is it? Not in the seven seas. He leans more into his cold ruthless killer side here. He has goals and people to help keep in line whether hes captain or not. Yet when around you, he's almost adorable in how he shows you a pearl so entrancing that it reminded him of you.

Corpse Bride!

my submission to my Noritoshi Halloween costume closet.. CORPSE BRIDE, THIS MOVIE FUCKS. esp w the yandere elements.

Noritoshi 100% made you recite the wedding vows to him before accepting the ring. If you fumbled up, he'd correct you with SO much attitude and expect you to start from the top until you got it perfectly.

Hypothetically, in the chalice scene towards the end..

Noritoshi is the type to never be fully relaxed unless he knows for sure you'll be eternally his. In this scenario, YOU proposed to HIM but have to die to continue being together. Not only that, but someone in the living world is also after your heart. Someone who bleeds. Someone who's the obvious choice. Someone who can give you the life that you deserve. Someone who will succeed in their pursuits if you. remain. alive. Noritoshi's life was cut short, yet he still managed to lose so much and be abandoned a considerable amount of times. When he meets you and finds out about the possibility of having to go through that again even in death, it finally clicks in his rotting mind. He realizes he's been doing something wrong to keep constantly failing. Noritoshi revises his methods to a more.. selfish course. Why should he care about anyone else's wants or how his actions hurt them? You were the only one who made him truly fulfilled, to make him feel alive. The only one who deserves anything and everything good that comes from this world. Destiny is never done toying with him when he realizes your marriage is invalid because of your pulse and his lack thereof no matter how hard he'd try, but the opportunity arises. of course, he's ecstatic to give you an afterlife worth much more than what a silly beating heart can achieve. "All people die eventually. If you miss your living family or friends, all it takes is patience, darling. I'll wait by your side in the meantime." He weighs the pros and cons of everything, but when it comes to swaying manipulating your thoughts he only highlights the ones that'll get you on his side. in this case, the pros of dying to be with him! Honestly, the answer was so obvious that Noritoshi didn't know why he was stressing about it before. It hurts him to see you in any type of pain, but he reassures both himself and you that it'll only be for a moment. Afterward, he'll have the rest of your afterlives to make it up to you!! What happened to Till Death Do Us Part? Noritoshi thinks it's insulting that something as shallow as that could be so widely accepted. If your love were true, it wouldn't stop just because the world decided to take them away. "Till death do us part? Darling, don't be silly. 'Not even death will do us part' feels much better, doesn't it?" 

#noritoshi #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi x reader #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #yandere noritoshi #yandere kamo noritoshi #yandere noritoshi kamo #merry october #??? #ragingbisegzual #charamander459 #I FUCKING LIVED THROGUH THIS GOD I FELT SO BAD I TOOK SO LONG ESP SINCE ITS ALREADY HALFWAY INTO NOVEMBER BUT HERE WE GO. BABY IS HERE #i thought i was so smart making this look like a fashion show. anyway hi im still alive just busy #vampire and witch nori were makin my brain fry bc all the outfits for guys were their shirt off. it was both funny and testing my creativit #as for idol.. heh. <- in love with forbidden love and secret relationships and 'we shouldnt be doing this' 'i know' *does it anyway* #I WAS TEARING MY HAIR OUT AT DOCTOR. LIKE I LIKE THE CONCEPT BUT WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO.. PUT HIM IN SCRUBS??? #im not upset im just so entertained by how straight forward you were yet there are still so many implications in this ask #LIKE YOU WROTE FOUR WORDS AND TWO EMOJIS AND THATS ALL IT TOOK FOR ME TO DO A DOUBLE TAKE #now that i think abt it. i shouldve put him in a hot nurse outfit... //punches myself in the face #THATS WHY ANY FAMOUS/ROYAL/REPUTATION AU IS MY SHIT BC THEY HAVE TO HIDE THEIR RELATIONSHIP/EACHOTHER AGH FROTHS AT THE MOUTH #i love how the pirate noritoshi is a cool guy until he sees you and turns into a simp #CORPSE BRIDE WAS SO SELF INDULGENT. THAT MOVIE FUCKS SO HARD. THE USE OF 'DARLING' WAS BC EMILY USED IT IN THE MOVIE #IT HAD SO MANY YAN VIBES BUT FUCK. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A GREEN FLAG EMILY. I LOVE YOU #heh. the lace and mask are supposed to represent the bones and such. didnt mean to give him a phantom of the opera look.. though it fits...

[blackopals-world]

(The horny has taken me)

Nsfw:"What are the Yuus' sex life with their partners"

(Fem!Yuus because the male dynamics are completely different)

After this we go back to regularly scheduled wholesome content.

Riddle Rosehearts x Maid!Yuu-

Very vanilla. They are satisfied with missionary and cuddling after. You'd think they'd have a master/servant vibe but they don't bring that into the bedroom. Light flirting and teasing in public but they won't ruin their image with indecency. But Riddle does have a mommy kink and a praise kink. Yuu takes full advantage making Riddle lose his mind.

"It's okay baby, you can cum. Cum for mommy sweetie."

"Yesh, mmmnn! Mummy!~♡"

Leona Kingscholar x Vet!Yuu-

Leona doesn't initiate sex. He does however bother Yuu when he's in the mood, which is alot. Yuu will wait as long as possible because of their work. She isn't worried about Leona losing interest because he won't. Leona wants anything he can't have. Yuu waits until the end of the day to give her partner what he wants which leads to rough sex. They love rough sex with biting and scratching. They will go at it like animals and you'd think they hate each other. Whether fighting or making up the answer is sex.

"Where do you think you're going? You said you could take it. You sounded so cocky a minute ago. Now take it!"

"Shut the hell up! Unng~ If you'd just slow down I could adjust-nmm!"

Ruggie Bucchi x Chef!Yuu-

Food and fucking, what better than that. Yuu has a slight feeding kink. Not a fattening kink though. She just likes striking the moment Ruggie is full and relaxing. Ruggie doesn't try to escape at that point all he wants is to use Yuu's thighs as a pillow. I know the question. Do they do the thing? Yes, they do the syrup and whipped cream thing.

"Ayanfe? You're giving me that look."

"Mahal, get the chocolate syrup. I think you deserve an early dessert."

"Yes, Ma'am!!"

Jack Howl x Writer!Yuu-

And they call it puppy love~

But seriously they are too saccharin-sweet for kinky business. They are too pure! Too innocent! Too loving!

Until Jack gets in the mode and desperately clings to Yuu. He gets all whiney and tosses his tough guy persona. Lots of nudging and cuddling his girlfriend as she focuses on typing. He literally gets so horny it hurts as he waits as patiently as he can. He tries not to bite when he can finally mounts Yuu but he can't help it.

"Ja-akk please slow down! You're too big to-oo go this deep! I'll cum if you-ah!"

"Sorry...it feels so good. So tight. Please let me mark you."

Azul Ashengrotto x Marine Biologist!Yuu

Extremely kinky. They both understand how mentally fragile the other can be when it comes to love. One wants to be loved the other wants to love. Yuu is a bit obsessive which translates to body worship. Azul's controlling nature leads to using Yuu. They both are obsessive actually. Sexually Yuu will sit on Azul's lap while he talks to clients, kissing and nuzzling him while he pays no attention. When guests leave she will switch to blowing him under his desk. Yuu loves cock warming but Azul knows he won't be able to focus the entire time. He ends up breaking character every time and fucks Yuu over the table.

"Pearl, you look amazing wrapped around me. You'd look better with a collar and a leash wrapped around my hand. It will be easier than pulling you by the hair."

"Mmmn~♡"

"Sorry, I forgot how much you love that."

Floyd Leech x Orca!Yuu-

You ever seen a small dog on a big one? Sorry. Had to say it.

Biting so much bitting. It's just natural for them. They will also go it at a moment's notice. No fuss. No build up just raw animalistic fucking like nature intended. They aren't kinky because that implies that they aren't just fucking. They don't even care if they get caught, at least Floyd doesn't.

"Floyd! What the hell! Can't you two do it in your dorm? I sit there!"

"Fuck off! Can't you see we're busy."

Jamil Viper x Dancer!Yuu

Too tired to put extra energy into fucking. Unless Jamil is particularly agitated. Then he's rough and possessive. God forbid Yuu has a competition and is practicing with someone else. They love having sex when one of them feels jealous and let it be known Yuu gets jealous especially when others talk about how hot Jamil is.

"Do. You. like. It. When those girls complaint you when I'm right there?"

"Do you when you have your hands all over your partner? Do you think he'll care if I send him a picture of you riding my cock right now?"

"Only if you send it to your fan girl too. You're mine hibibi~"

Rook Hunt x Special Forces!Yuu

Insatiable. Fuck more than Yuu's prized rabbits. Kinky is a word they redefined. Really into BDSM but surprisingly they also switch roles alot. Enjoy predator/prey play, degradation, and bandage. While they aren't in an open relationship they have had threesomes. Vil can pretend all he wants but he has slept with them.

"Rat, if you make another sound I'll be forced to strike you again."

"mon amour, s'il te plaît, frappe-moi plus fort-ackk!!!"

Vil Schoenheit x Gardener!Yuu

Hate sex. I mean if you can't stand another person's personality but still find them extremely attractive you might just have fuck about it. Spiteful biting, clawing, and cursing. Vil may be prim and proper in public but this is different. He actually enjoys letting loose and Yuu doesn't complain about being held by the throat. Their little tryst will devolve once all the anger is gone to actually making passionate love.

"You were so mad earlier, you even broke broke skin this time. Now you're acting like a mother hen."

"Silence. Stop moving you are going to get the ointment everywhere. Do you want a scare?"

"Yes! I thought I made that clear. I can't wait to wear it everywhere and explain how I got it."

Idia Shroud x Otaku!Yuu

Toys. So many toys. They can't do it without edging, vibrators, pocket pussies, or dildos. God forbid they find something new to try out. They also love dressing up in cosplays. You don't want walk in on them, their is bo telling what they are doing. And yes to those wondering Idia does get pegged.

"Idia don't pout. I said clip-on not strap-on. I know you are disappointed but we already had plans."

"I know, but I thought I was my turn."

"Okay fine, but I still get to edge you."

Ortho Shroud x Dolly

No

Malleus Draconia x Noble!Yuu

What do you do if you need to save a dragon from a princess? Honestly, Yuu is very proper and keeps Malleus on a short leash. Premarital sex? Scandalous! They still do it in secret which leads to stealthy sex where they avoid getting caught. This is different because a railed-up dragon is hard to control but getting the even more stubborn control freak princess to back down is harder. It's a battle of stamina from there. Yuu hangs on out of spite.

"I'm...surprised you've lasted...my love."

"I'll pass..out after you...do."

Lilia Vanrouge x Celestial!Yuu

"Me and my wife saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe."

Okay, seriously they are a bisexual couple who are no strangers to a bit of fun. They just don't have lovers around the kids. They are still very committed to their marriage. They have never told Malleus what their relationship with his parents was behind closed doors. Or Silver about his mother in Yuu's case. And yes that does make them brothers. It's complicated.

"We can always see if Crewel is willing to join us."

"Dear, I think as long as you're posing as a student it's illegal no matter how old we are. Plus I doubt the boys will forgive us if we go that far."

"I guess I have a goddess all to myself then. What a selfish man I am."

Silver Vanrouge x Odette Crowley

Well technically she's a dullahan, so.... Removable head. So you know.

I doubt he'd do it though. It would be pretty hot though. But he's on that respect woman mindset.

Sebek Zigvolt x Disciplinary Officer!Yuu

He's guilty of disturbing the peace officer! Please punish him! She has the crocodile in a chokehold and he ain't going nowhere. Sit.Stay.Beg. He follows orders like a puppy dog. That riding crop isn't for show and yes it's charged. But if he's a good quiet boy he gets rewarded.

"I'm glad we finally got to put that loud mouth of yours to good use. I'll keep my promise, if you make me cum I'll let you out of the cage."

(Okay, the last one has me sweating.)

#maid!yuu #vet!yuu #chef!yuu #writer!yuu #marine biologist!yuu #orca!yuu #dancer!yuu #special forces!yuu #gardener!Yuu #otaku!yuu #noble!yuu #celestial!yuu #disciplinary committee!yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver vanrouge x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twisted wonderland

[igotanidea]

Voices: Jason Todd x reader

Dreaming was good.

Dreaming was nothing less of a perfect when she could feel his warm body next to her. The strong, protective embrace of his arms wrapped around her.

Or even if they got into a fight and were angry at each other - it was calming knowing that Jason was right beside, just a touch away. Even if he flinched and scoffed at the gentle move of her fingers on his back or shoulders. sooner or later he always relented and they worked through whatever shit was going on.

Together.

But dreaming was not always good.

Not when she woke up in the middle of the night, brutally torn from the very vivid and very real nightmare of Jason's dead, lifeless body in her arms. His blood on her hands and face. His empty, cold eyes. His emotionless face.

NO!!

The jolt was so sudden that even her cat, sleeping peacefully in the foot of the bed run away form her, leaving poor girl completly alone.

alone.

Going to bed alone. Every night.

Waking up alone. Every morning.

Deprived of his touch, his kisses, his love and affection.

Any affection.

And maybe she was acting like a whiny baby, but she needed him with her. Not out there. Not fighting crime lords or whatever villain might have shown his face at Gotham.

3 am....

Please come back home....

4 am,

5 am.....

Was he injured? Was he bleeding, hurt, scared? Maybe he took off running? Maybe he got back together with one of his exes? Artemis? Kori? Rose?

Maybe she wasn;t good enough for him? Maybe he realised he actually wanted some badass vigilante chick with toned muscles, sharp tongue, fiery attitude? Maybe he wanted someone hot?

She wasn't hot.

She was a wimp, shuddering in the cold, empy bed desperately craving her boyfriend presence. Be it bruised or in bad mood, but please --

Please come home.

I'll be better, I'll do better, I'll improve.

I'll be what you want me to be, just please don't leave me.

So far from what a modern woman should be, right? Codependent, fragile, weak, vulnerable, pathetic.

Or maybe just in love with a vigilante.

How did it happen that she got from worrying about him to questioning her whole lonely exsistence in 10 minutes?

He doesn;t want you.

You're ugly.

You're fat.

You're unnatractive.

You really thought he would stay with you? did you already imagine the real-life play-pretend with him? White dress? Picket white fence? Familiy?

You stupid little girl.

He doesn;t want you, he never wanted you, he won't ever want you.

"SHUT UP!!!" she cried out in frustration, tears rolling down her face as her demons started to prey on her like on a Goya painting "Shut up! shut up! shut up!" she shook violently.

"Are you talking to me now?" a familiar voice and the sound of discarded red helmet echoed in her head "Damn Y/N! If there's anything you learned during those years it's definitely developing a good hearing-- Baby?" Jason became alarmed the second he took in her state. "Baby? Y/N? What happened? WHO HURT YOU?!"

It was impossible for Jason to keep his cool when he saw her crying. The first thought popping into his head being someone did something to her. Someone caused this. And the fact that it was 5 a.m. and most people were sleeping and that there was no one but them in their apartment slipped his mind, clouded by the incoming wave of rage

"Give me the name baby.' he took a few step forwards, kneeling on the floor next to bed and cupping her chin forcing her eyes on him "tell me who did this to you."

"You did!" she sobbed

"I--" holy fuck! In his blinding fury and the sudden need for revenge he didn't realise she could be sheding those crocodlie tears because of him.

"Why are you leaving me?" she sobbed

"Why am I --?" Y/N was not making any sense right now "I'm not--"

"Liar!" the girl yelled with surprising strength given her fragile state "You think she's hot, don't you?"

"Who?"

"Your ex!"

"My ex? Y/N, princess, why don't you calm down and--"

"I AM COMPLETLY CALM!" now Jason was almost sure that the neighbours were already up, ready to impale them both on pitchforks and uncovering his secret identity.

"Ok, ok, baby..." he raised his hands in surrender, observing her every move and slightest change in face expression.

This was new. This was something he wasn;t entirely sure of how to proceed with. Out of all the opponents he had to fight never in his mind would he thought that his girlfiriend would be the most challenging.

Was this an attack of hysteria? A panic attack? An anxiety fit?

Jason was way too familiar with all that.

What if it was him? What would she do if he woke up in the middle of the night, jittery for no particular reason? What could possibly be helpful?

And then it dawned on him.

And it all happened at once.

Bed dipping, his weight on her, his hands on her body, his breath on her face and the all-encompasing smell of blood, gunpowder and cigatettes.

Soft caress of her hair.

Gentle peck on her nose.

Developing too fast to give her any time to object, not that she wanted to.

"I got you." he whispered pulling her closer to his chest, not caring about the bruise that was already forming on his right side and that cut on his forearm. She was more important now. "I got you, baby, I got you..." he kissd her forehead warming and calming her by the mass of muscles and bythe rapid but steady beating of his heart.

she was still shaking but the firm yet gentle grip on her refused to let go untill it all subsided. Steading her, anchoring her in reality. Helping her realise that whatever her traitorous mind suggested had nothing to do with actuallity. Even if it took days, weeks, years, Jason was not going to move, keeping her pinned to his chest until being full certain she was back to him, having her full attention.

"Do you think I'm ugly....?" she muttered causing him to laugh, the movement of his body causing vibrations.

"I think you should get some proper rest. Otherwise the next thing you're going to ask me is going to be that "if i was a worm..." question."

"Bbut if I was a worm would you--?"

"Hush, woman!" he cut her off with the cheesiest smile "I had a rough night and need to sleep. Which means you are stuck with me for as long as I please."

"are you--?"

"I said, hush woman." he tightened the hold on her, preventing her from squirming and moving too far. "you're my body pillow now, accept your fate."

"are you hurt?" she whispered

"I'm perfect." he whispered back, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Making all the hateful voices in her head shut up. Bringing in the silence and peace.

But the talk he was going to give her in the morning would be a capital letter one.

Ugly.

Huh. She had no idea what measures he was going to resort to proving her wrong...

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

[2hightocare]

PLAYFIGHTS! kuwtb au…

꩜ masterlist series! small drabble that I won’t finish🎀

a/n: had to get into eunbis’ nd taes’ rivalry… this is more family oriented than oc nd kook💌

"Iseul, come here with Auntie Eunbi. Come, come," Eunbi coos, arms outstretched. "Princess, come here with your favorite uncle in the world," Taehyung coos from the opposite side, trying to vie for Iseul's attention.

"She does not fuck with y'all," Jimin laughs from the ground, engrossed in playing with Ye joon. Lego pieces of every color scatter the floor in front of them. Taehyung and Eunbi gasp, "Are they still fighting over Iseul's attention?" Jia asks, joining Jimin and Ye joon on the ground, picking up legos and stacking them.

"I'll get you anything you want, baby," Eunbi tries again, sending Taehyung a mocking face, which he returns. "I'll buy you ice cream, Seul," Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows, sending Iseul into a fit of giggles. "Who's winning?" Jungkook shouts from the kitchen.

"Me!!" Taehyung shouts back, clapping his hands. "Eunbi, ask her if she wants French fries," you shout with a laugh, making Jungkook laugh beside you. "Iseul, do you want french fries? I'll give you all of them," Eunbi says, scooting closer to her, Iseul's eyes immediately widening before crawling to her godmother with a giggle.

"That's cheating!" Taehyung falls to the ground while everyone cheers for Eunbi, who's laughing and spinning Iseul in her arms.

"I'm retiring as the godfather," Taehyung declares, running a hand over his face, amusement clear in his voice as he watches Iseul giggle in her godmother's arms. "I know you're mad as hell," Eunbi pokes Taehyung while he playfully shoos the two girls away.

Jungkook laughs beside you as you wash the dirty dishes everyone just ate from. "You're a little cheater," he whispers into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, laying his chin on your shoulder.

"They didn't set rules beforehand," you shrug, feeling yourself melt into his embrace. "You're right, baby, you're so right," he leaves a kiss on your cheek before slapping your ass with a mischievous smirk, picking up a plate beside you— helping you.

"Ahh, no!" You quickly pick up Ye joon as Jiho bursts out laughing.

"What!" Taehyung and Ari stand up off the couch, rushing to your side as you try to open Ye joon's mouth with your hand. "He ate Bam's food," Jiho wheezes, crouching and holding his stomach from laughter.

"His breath gon stink," Yoongi laughs, watching you and the parents of the child whose breath is about to stink try to open his mouth to take out the food. Ye joon finally gives up and spits the dog food into your palm with a giggle.

"Bammy's food!" Ye joon claps his hands as Ari takes him from your arms. "Menace like his dad, I'm afraid," Eunbi mutters, earning a side-eye from the dad himself. "Baby, permission to tackle a woman," Taehyung looks at his wife, who laughs, "Permission denied," Ari snorts before walking to the kitchen sink where you are already standing, washing the nasty chewed-up dog kibble off your palm.

"Trust me, when my wife gives me permission, it's on sight," Taehyung pushes Eunbi's head backward, earning a swat on the chest.

"The girls are fighting," Jia shouts, popping a gummy into her mouth with a smile. "My girl is going to win," Yoongi laughs, staring at his wife beside his best friend as they argue about the dumbest thing possible on earth. Taehyung and Eunbi's rivalry started right after Iseul was born, each trying so hard to one-up the other on who Iseul might like more.

They had their moments where they could have a regular conversation and actually agree with each other, but it was more regular what was happening at the moment. "Let's go, I'll rock your shit," Eunbi says, amusement clear on her face. Before she could swing, Jungkook pulls Eunbi by her arm and pushes her to her husband on the couch, who’s watching everything go down with the biggest smile.

"Let her get up, let her get up, let her get up," Hobi joins in with a laugh, which gets him swatted by Jia who shushes him.

"Nobody is fighting anyone," your husband gives Eunbi and Taehyung a look which has them rolling their eyes. Taehyung gives up and drops beside Hobi on the couch. "Good boy," Jungkook says, shooting him a wink which has everyone gagging.

"How does YN go through that every day? I can't," Eunbi fake gags, nuzzling her head into Yoongi's neck.

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bangtan #jjk #fluff #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook #jeongguk x reader #jeon jk #jeongguk fic #jeongguk #bts fluff #bts jk #bts x reader #bts #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung fluff #yoongi x reader #jeongguk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jk fanfic #bangtan fluff #bangtan smut

[nanamistie]

Can you do any of the Haikyuu boys x Fem!reader, where they get into an argument (with an angst ending please🥹🥹🥹) if you can’t that’s perfectly fine <3

Haikyuu boys getting in an argument with Fem!reader, and never solve the problem.

Warnings: angst, no comfort, swearing, harsh words, cheating, heavy breakups.

Oikawa

You were such a perfect couple, at least, that's what you thought. You were so proud of him, always comforted him after losing, he cared for you, he helped you with school. It was kinda weird that he never showed you publicly, or even mentioned that he has a relationship in interviews, but those didn't matter that much to you. You were in love, right? So then, why did you find him like this?

“Oikawa how could you do this to me?” you asked him desperately trying to hear that it was just a dream. “I’m sorry, I got bored of this relationship’’ he simply replied. Your eyes widened. “Y-You got b-bored?? Oikawa Tooru, how could you? I was there to wipe your tears when you lost, and I still didn't get bored -you paused- i hoped and prayed that one day you’ll win and be happy, and I would’ve wiped those tears again because they would’ve been of joy. And you got b-bored?” you looked at him with tears running down your cheeks. “I don't need to explain myself, it’s not my fault you were dumb and got attached” and with that he simply left you there, crying all by yourself.

Atsumu

He was so full of himself tonight. His team won an official match against Karasuno, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to treat you like this.

“How about we celebrate by eating out?” you asked while he sat on your shared bed. “Nah, I'll go talk to the boys and maybe play a game or two” he said standing up from the bed. “Why don’t you celebrate with me and you celebrate with them? I was there for you in stands of all your matches”

“Y/n, they are my teammates, they are more important than you are. Plus, you are a woman, why don’t you go back in the kitchen and make me something to eat.” your face got all red and flushed, you grabbed your purse and hit him in the head with full force. “Fuck you!” you grabbed your keys and left the apartment.

You slept at your friend's house, actually, you barely slept. You waited for him to call you all night, but he never did.

Kuroo

The last few days had been very tense. You and your boyfriend Kuroo were having a lot of small arguments,about the fact that he got late home almost everyday, he wasn’t giving you enough attention, you couldn’t come to his matches, things like this. But none of the small fights ended like this one in this morning:

“All I’m saying is that you could come home earlier from practice, or at least bother to text me that you’re gonna be late, it’s like you don’t even care that I'm here waiting for you day and night!” you yell at him. “Whatever Y/n, I’m late to practice” you both knew this was a lie. But you heard him mutter under his breath “I wanted a break anyway.”

And with that, he left. He left with no goodbye, no explanation, no excuses. You felt your whole world collapsing on you. You sat with your knees to your chest, crying, hoping he will come back and tell you that he didn’t mean what he just said.

Bokuto

Today he lost another game. And he felt like it was all his fault. So why won't he blame somebody else and maybe let his anger out on that person too?

“Baby, Kou, it’s fine, it’s just a game” you get interrupted by him. “No, it’s not just a game, Y/n, it’s volleyball, everything is important about it! WELL, I MEAN HOW WOULD YOU KNOW WHEN YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A HOBBY, YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING! ALL YOU DO IS BOTHER ME AND KEEP DISTRACTING ME FROM THE ONLY THING THAT I REALLY LOVE!!” you pause your breathing. You felt so guilty, you look down, you don’t even dare maintaining eye contact with your “boyfriend”. Tears pick at your eyes, and you cross your arms.

“Yeah, sure, cry, that’s all you can do, since you know what I just said is true.” You felt those words cut so deep, your heart broke in a million pieces.

Osamu

You never really learned how to cook, but seeing your boyfriend cook everyday made you learn a few things, so you thought you could make something special for him tonight. I mean, what could go wrong? Everything.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU WASTED SO MUCH INGREDIENTS, AND YOU STILL FUCKING BURNED IT, HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE?!” he yelled at you, showing you the mess you made in his kitchen. “I'm really sorry, I just wanted to make something good for you once…”

“Well, apparently you can’t, so why don't you just leave?” You looked up at him, but his gaze scared you- there was no more love in his eyes, not even a little bit. What was wrong with you, were you that hard to love?

Iwaizumi

“I love listening to you” you confess to him. “You do?” you look at him, reassuring him “Yes baby, of course i do! Even when you talk about how much you hate Oikawa, you know, i had a friend that i hated her the exact same way but-”

“Well if you like listening to me, then why do you make it about yourself?” you froze. Did you just do that? “I-” you looked into his eyes searching for his love and reassuring but where were those? “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to, you know that, right? I’m really sorry, Haji, look at me” you tried grabbing his face but he pushed your hands away. “Just leave me alone already, with your excuses and everything. I’m getting tired of this. We’re done.”

You hated yourself. That small mistake you didn’t even know you made, cost you everything.

...

Hey!! Of course I can write this! Sorry it took a long time, someone caught a cold and couldn't do it on time. Hope you liked it!

💕💕💕

#haikyuu angst #hq boys #haikyuu headcanons #hq angst #haikyuu boys #hq headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa headcanons #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu headcanons #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #kuroo headcanons #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #bokuto headcanons #miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu angst #osamu headcanons #iwazumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi headcanons

[landonorizzz]

SUMMARY: pierre is not the boyfriend of the year that everyone thought. his girlfriend is left to fend for herself, fourtunately she seems to have good people in her corner PAIRING: pierre gasly x ex! fem! ferrari media team! oc , [redacted] x fem! ferrari media team! oc (no faceclaim) WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, cursing A/N: this is my first one, it was supposed to be y/n BUT i just didn't like how it looked? idk, i needed to have a name so everyone meet Marceline ;)) A/N 2: this one's very twitter heavy, idk why, also we meet new characters

masterlist | previous next

liked by marcilazzaro1, vincent_fabbri and others

brunolazzaro03 next time i see him it's on sight

tagged: marcilazzaro1

(this is a private account, you cannot reply to this post)

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marcilazzaro1 oh baby brother, i love you too

↳brunolazzaro03 okay okay, just stop stealing my ice cream

landonorris and what are you gonna do, you're like 12

↳brunolazzaro03 im 20 and i've been training karate since i was 6 ;)) ↳landonorris ah, got it.

maxverstappen1 can i help?

↳brunolazzaro03 i mean, i guess? can you fight? ↳charles_leclerc no, he cannot. he's like a kitten ↳maxverstappen1 i CAN fight wtf, estebanocon can confirm ↳estebanocon that wasn't a fight, it was a shove

charles_leclerc oh shit you did karaoke without me? i'm hurt

↳brunolazzaro03 don't worry, you didn't miss much. she was awful ↳marcilazzaro1 oh i'm sorry that i was having fun and not singing like a pop star ↳charles_leclerc i'm sure it wasn't that bad, but you are legally obligated to go to a karaoke bar with us now ↳marcilazzaro1 name a time and place

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marci's messages:

Marci: Okay, so I do have questions. Apparently.

Claire Ask away, I've told you I'm here to answer anything I can.

Marci: He was in Milan for 17-19th June. Did you meet up then?

Claire: Wait a sec, I'll check the messages.

Claire: He texted me on the 17th, we met up the next day.

Marci: Fucking hell

Marci: What a fucking dickhead

Marci: I can't believe him

Marci: No, actually, I can't believe myself! How could I be so stupid? I KNEW something was up.

Claire: What happened?

Marci: My birthday's June 18th. I had to be in the UK for work, tried to get him to come with me as well, but he said he was needed at the factory.

Claire: What the fuckk

Claire: I'm so sorry this happened to you and for my involvement in it.

Claire: Merda, che proprio stronzo

Claire: The audacity. And his dick ain't even that good.

Marci: Jesus. Ain't that the truth

Marci: What are you doing this weekend? I still have questions and I'd rather to talk about it face to face

Marci: If that's okay with you of course.

Claire: Yeah, sure.

liked by sebastianvettel, lance_stroll and others

marcilazzaro1 last moments in paradise ☀️ thank you for being my friends 💛 miss you already!

tagged: brunolazzaro03, sarah_scott, alliebanks, jonas_braun and jo_king

see all comments...

jonas_braun you gotta have more free weekends

↳ marcilazzaro1 yeah, let me just say that to the big boss i'm sure he'll be very happy about that ↳ jo_king scuderiaferrari ;) ↳ scuderiaferrari sorry, boss says she's essential ↳ marcilazzaro1 🤠

sundaylover hope you had a good break! ferrari media is different without you

↳ cuddlyriccx right??? it's way less entertaining ↳ elplanxincoming and charles is not enthusiastic at all lol

yukitsunoda0511 i found a good restaurant for singapore so you better come back

↳ marcilazzaro1 i can't wait!

shithappens this is so precious to me, you don't understand

danielricciardo so is my favorite media perosn coming back to work?

↳ marcilazzaro1 i need to make a short pitstop first but yeah ;) ↳ madi_races pitstop? ↳ marcilazzaro1 🤫

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you back!

↳ ilpredestinatox i NEED to know which side is charles on here

↳ cuddlyxricc so true bestie

carlossainz55 come back, they're making us do challenges without you

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MONZA post race interview:

liked by sebastianvettel, clairobernie_x and others

marcielazzaro1 turns out that the only good thing about him was his taste in women ;)

tagged: clairobernie_x

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ilpredestinatox IM SORRY???? RUE WHEN WAS THIS

elplanxincoming OH this is petty, I LOVE THIS

sundaylover this is the solidarity we need

↳shithappens she's a girl's girl 🥺

maxverstappen1 so that's what you're doing instead of working?

↳marcielazzaro1 i have boss' permisson so shush

fonzlove that's some queen shit right here

↳aussieboi YES

multi21apologist is NO ONE gonna mention the seb like??

↳ redmilton honestly, he's been in her likes for ages (since he made an acc i guess) so im kinda... used to it?

clairobernie_x who knew medicore sex could make this happen ;)

↳marcilazzaro1 CLAIRE 😳 ↳barbiegirl i just know pierre is reading this shaking in his boots

danielricciardo that's some fine views right there

sarah_scott and you didn't take me??

↳marcilazzaro1 next time babes, i promise

charles_leclerc this is amazing

↳clairobernie_x we know ;) ↳madi_races oh i like her, can we keep her?

nyoomf1 WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMOMS

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liked by marcilazzaro1, sebastianvettel and others

clairobernie_x girls just wanna have fun (and bitch about stupid men)

tagged: marcilazzaro1

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landonorizz i'm so happy they're friendly

madi_races oh they're so pretty

↳forzalec16 right??? im SO gay

marcilazzaro1 it was so good to officially meet you

↳clairobernie_x i'm so glad i reached out

shithappens this dynamic is precious, i don't wanna say "thank you pierre" but........

↳marcilazzaro1 thank you Pierre ;) ↳shithappens your honor i LOVE HER

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madi's radio: pt. 2 is here! next ones might take some time cause i'm just swamped with course work and i have a buch of exams this week, sorry. also how are we liking the characters and dynamics so far?

tag list: @sunny44 @rockyhayzkid @biancathecool @unluckyyoshi

click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

#f1 #red bull f1 #f1 smau #f1 instagram au #max verstappen #pierre gasly #pg10 #alpine f1 #esteban ocon #lance stroll #lando norris #for fun #sv5

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 5 - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Wolfwood

I love him. Man who has no faith in himself or humanity or god with so much blood on his hands, fighting for something he knows he can never see come to fruition in person. He carries his own literal cross and grave marker on his back. Just… he’s so iconic to me.

I'm sure I'm not the first to submit him. But I did it anyway. I hope he wins and I'll do anything in my power to make sure he does

Dude is literally a priest who carries around a giant cross. Yes he uses the cross to murder people but that is besides the point. Also he has a mini church he carries around for on-the-go confession services.

hes literally a priest(hes not a priest in the reboot but he is in the original and thats what matters to Me). he carries around a cross that is actually secretly a gun with guns inside that gun. he runs a church/orphanage. he carries around a portable confession booth and charges people money for it because he is broke as fuck. he dies bleeding out over an alter begging to god for forgiveness he doesnt think he deserves. he is everything to me.

look at this man he's a priest with a cross shaped gun that (spoilers) dies against the side of a church while waxing poetic about life and redemption (/spoilers), this is the Catholic ever.

Wolfwood is liiiiiterally Judas coded in the text. AND his weapon is a massive cross that turns into a machine gun and a LASER. Not to mention his religious trauma. Oh baby. The religious trauma.

Homeboy literally walks around with a giantass 300lb machine gun shaped like a cross called the Punisher. Hes a priest/undertaker depending on what version of trigun you reference. Grew up in a church orphanage. Also literally walks around with a portable confessional box for people to pay to confess to him. Need i say more.

HE IS LITERALLY JUDAS. he is literally leading the jesus allegory to his doom. hes also in love with the jesus allegory (vash). he is also carrying arouns a giant cross rhat is also a gun. hes literally catholic and judas and his tits are perfect. in one piece of official art he's wearing a cross choker. also the catholicism on gunsmoke is about making vash submit. wolfwood looking at that pathetic wet mess of a man oh i can make him submit easily.

He literally carries around a giant cross and is referred to as a priest by multiple characters. also he offers people confessionals

He carries a huge machine gun that is in the shape of a cross that is really heavy (he is strong) and his boobs are huge. So you know hes serving cunt in a god honoring way. Also in trigun 1998 he brings around a small chapel that he uses as a portable confessional and in trigun stampede he holds funeral services as an undertaker which are way overly priced. Also he dies very gayly (basicly confessing his love to his best boy friend forever)

Nick's funny bc he's probably the least Christian acting guy but is literally a preacher. There's a running gag with Vash asking some variation of "what the hell kinda churchman are you?" His gun is a gigantic cross. He rides a shitty motorcycle in the middle of the desert.

ok so thematically the main conflict in trigun is about peace vs violence and its represented by the characters vash and knives respectively. the two aren't /technically/ angels but thematically and through imagery they are and are comparable to michael and lucifer specifically. ANYWAYS. vash and knives are the characters who are constantly pushing and pulling at wolfwood's morality, sort of like a "the devil and god are raging inside of me" kinda deal. his grappling with his morality and faith is a big factor in his character. also he has a giant fucking gun shaped like a cross. and he dies in a church while praying.

Bros an orphan who grew up at a Catholic orphanage and taken away to be trained and genetically changed into a supercharged assassin for interworldly beings that have lots of angel imagery attached. Guy thought he was just going to be taken to become a missonary...instead he got 6 years of religious trauma. He still wears a cross necklace and holds it often. His gun is a literal cross "full of mercy" (its a missile launcher). He never really believed fully in the faith or anything, but the way he interacts with it is FASCINATING. He's jaded by the planet he lives on and his upbringing, and makes him say his most iconic quote: "We're nothing like God. Not only do we have limited powers, but sometimes we're driven to become the devil himself." He prays to a God he doesn't know if he actually believes in, asking for another day— for hope for the human race. The organization hes part of (The Eye of Michael) works for an interdimensional otherworldly being that has an incredible amount of angelic metaphor and imagery attached who intends to purge the planet of humans... and ends up siding with that guy's twin brother who is so Jesus coded it's insane. They are best friends even as Wolfwood is acting under instructions to babysit and watch him for his twin brother. He dies after facing down against his old mentor (named Chapel) and his pseudo brother from the orphanage who was taken into the Eye as well and his Jesus bestie buries him and sticks his cross-gun in the ground after losing his shit crazy style and using his pseudo alien angel Jesus powers to lash out at his brother for being the cause of Wolfwood's death. Rest in peace king

John

he’s a priest. he can punch your lights out. he would never hurt a fly. he has connections in the black market. he gives everything he can to the local orphans. he will not hesitate to play pranks on you. he wants everyone to be happy. he has daddy issues probably. he wants a promotion sososososoooooo bad.

I accidentally submitted the last 5actors name but it’s the same guy

Hey everyone please vote for this man I love him he truely is what we need more of in this world the kindest most relatable character has flaws etc etc. Deserves the world

#john mulcahy #m a s h #mash #m*a*s*h #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #francis mulcahy #FRANCIS JOHN PATRICK MULCAHY #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun

[atxxokirina]

Boyfriend's Brother (pt.2)

Lo'ak x Fem Omatikayan reader | 18+, MDNI

contains: oral (m receiving) deepthroat, cheating, reader's heat approaching, breath play, dom/rough lo'ak, let me know if i missed anything.

part one here

After dinner, you, Lo'ak, and a couple of others were stuck doing chores around the village. You just wanted to go back to your hut and rest, but he's been teasing you nonstop. You couldn't really pinpoint why he was doing this again, but you had some sort of idea.

-

3 days ago, an argument between you and Neteyam.

The two of you stood behind the backwoods of the forest, bickering back and forth. "But why? I don't see why you can't just fight this for me!" You yelled at your partner, eyebrows furrowed and body pulsing with anger. "Y/n, I-I'm sorry, my dad needs me to go. You know how he is, please understand." Neteyam pleads. His father and a group of other warriors had been planning a hunting trip for some time, but of course it fell on the day your heat would arrive. You scoff in disbelief. "Neteyam, my heat is coming soon, you can't just leave!" Your lips quiver as you choked back a cry. "Please?" In the midst of your sentence, you spot a familiar figure in the clearing. Squinting your eyes to get a better look, you instantly recognize the man spying on you.

Lo'ak. Great. Of course he's the one who ends up seeing this.

You've started to tune out your boyfriend, all of his excuses and worthless attempts at making you feel better. You subconsciously stare back at Lo'ak, who gives you a sly smirk before walking off. "Y/n are you even listening?" Neteyam waved his hands in your face, snapping you out of your trance. You sigh, folding your arms and looking Neteyam dead in his eyes. "It's fine, do what you want. I don't care." You say without hesitation, but your tone surely implies that you're conflicted. "It's not like you can't miss a single hunting retreat, right?? Not like you go to every single fucking one?!" You raised your voice, frustration making your face heat up. "You know what? Just go do what your daddy wants. Like you always do." You spoke under your breath, stomping away.

-

And since that day, Lo'ak has been giving you subtle hints that he wants you again. The entire night, he'd been tugging his loincloth down when you were looking, making sure that you got a good eyeful of his v-line. "Accidentally" brushing his hand across your ass whenever he'd walk by. It was.. frustrating, to say the least. You might have liked the rush it gave you, but you weren't in the mood for him, or his little games.

After setting up a bonfire for the village, you step back and take a moment to admire your work, confident that everything is in place, and now you can finally go home and rest. Turning around, you see Lo'ak who's now standing behind you, his tall figure pressing against you as he snakes his arms around your waist. "I know what you're trying to do, Lo'ak. Just leave me alone." You sigh, unlatching his grip and walking off. but He pulls you back by your arm, earing a gasp from you as your backside presses against him. "That’s too bad," he tilts his head, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“I was actually hoping to catch you alone tonight," He pushes his hips into you now, making sure that you feel him growing. "I saw what happened the other day." He grunts at the feeling of your ass being backed up against him. "I know you saw me there baby. It's not fair, is it? He doesn't even try for you.." Lo'ak grazes his fangs against your neck, his breath making you shudder under him.

Your eyes flutter shut, feeling extra submissive as you practically melt under his touch. "I'll make you feel good again, how about that, huh? Better than my brother was ever able to." His hands begin to find your chest, trailing down to your cleavage. You wanted this, you wanted this so fucking bad. Lo'ak's hands weren't stopping anytime soon, either. They only traveled lower. And since you were still out in the open, you had to make your choice fast.

"Okay," You finally speak, a breath following after. "Take me." After those words, he turns your body around, pushing you into the direction of his hut. Walking in behind you, he shoves your body onto the cot like it's nothing. You gulp, not sure what he plans to do next, but it still gets you hot.

Lo'ak climbs on top of you, staring down at you with a dark gaze. He looks at you like a Palulukan ready to devour it's prey. Before you know it, he's pulling at your top with force. The beads attached fly off, causing you to flinch. "I made that piec-" His palm comes up to your mouth, shutting you up in an instant.

You struggled against his hand, words coming out in muffles. Your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head at him, lifting your body up. "Lo'ak, wait-" He stops you again, shoving your body back down and keeping his muscley arm on your chest. He straddles your waist, moving his lower body up to your face and staring down at you with a dark look in eye. "You're gonna good, and take what I fucking give you," he began untying his loincloth, once he got it loose, he pulls it down, dick springing out to meet your mouth. "Understand?" Lo'ak aligns his member with your lips, teasing the tip as he groans.

You hesitantly nod your head, pupils fully blown as you maintained eye contact. He looks down at you, grabbing your chin with force and squeezing.

"I didn't hear you. Do. You. Understand?" Lo'ak demanded an answer. His tone deep and intimidating. "Y-Yes, yes I understand" You said below a whisper. He releases your jaw and gives your cheek a soft slap. "Good girl."

"Now," He pushes his cock into your mouth, leaning his head back and moaning at the warmth radiating from inside your mouth. "I'm gonna fuck this cute throat of yours" he declares. "And then, later on.. I'm gonna take this sweet cunt again." Lo'ak finally thrusts his cock deeper, the mushroomy tip kissing your uvula while you choke. "Mhhmmm.. take this fucking dick down your throat." You coughed as he continued to jab the back of your throat, saliva dribbling to your chin.

His thrusts feel endless, his cock is filling the entirety of your mouth now, not giving you a chance to breath. "Lo-!" You try to speak. He's distracted by your hot mouth. Grunting at each advancement his hips make. "Yeah.. hnnghh.. yeah", he moans in a low tone. You're trying to form a sentence, but it's impossible with the amount of relentless pounding, along with the overwhelming spit. Your vision is getting blurry, feeling like you're going to pass out, you can hardly breathe.

Lo'ak hears your cries and the way you cough, but he couldn't care less. He's so focused on his climax that all he wants to do is fuck your pretty throat. He now grips both sides of your head, face fucking you into oblivion, which only causes you to cry out more. "Pleaseeee!" You beg, but you don't know what for. He looks down to see your tear filled eyes and grins at the sight. "You're so.. mngh!" One hard thrust that makes you scream on his cock. "..fucking hot."

"Hmh.. gonna cum, gonna cum down your throat." He speeds up, squeezing your head, fucking it like your pussy. Now you're really going to pass out. Your heart is pounding, you've never felt so scared, yet so horny in your life. You flail your arms, kick your legs, and attempt to pry his hands off of your face.

"Stop wriggling, bitch!" Lo'ak grunts, holding your body down and placing his leg on your chest to ensure you stay still. He chucked as your movements slowed, "That's right." He seems to be enjoying this, oh yeah, he's gotta be. After a few more rough hits into your mouth, he releases a loud, long groan of pleasure. You felt his tip twitching at the roof of your mouth as his warm, slimy cum spews in your mouth. "Fuuckkkk.. take it, take all of my cum, ohhh s-shit" He sighed as his hips stutter.

Pulling out of your mouth with a pop, he shuts your jaw before any of his liquid can seep out. "Swallow it all." He tells you, somehow still admiring you in this state. "I.. I c-an't." You try to respond with a mouth full of seed, he closes your jaw again. "I said, swallow." Lo'ak's tone is becoming more husk, he tilts your head back, causing the cum in your mouth to reach the back of your throat. You almost cough, but his large hands keep your jaw closed.

He watches as your throat contracts, humming in content as you gulp. You look at him, eyes puffy and red from crying. "I don't care if you're tired, we aren't done yet." He reaches to wipe your cheek, beaming down at you. "I'm gonna keep this pussy full of my cock all week."

#atwow #avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #loak sully #neytiri sully #ff #jake sully #avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #atwow smut #loak smut #loak x yn #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak sully x reader #loak sully smut #atwow loak #avatar loak #loak angst #loak headcanons #metkayina #omatikaya

[citadelsanchez]

hahah what if Rick gets drunk and reader if taking care of them and he just slips that he likes them? and compliments them and just kinda goes off?(then denies anything happened the next day when they ask?) I just think about that a lot tbh sdkj

You got it! Wrote this at 3 am and couldn't think of a better bit than the hair thing, go easy on me asfjkxc. Also did it in y/n fashion again. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~

"Alright Rick, I may be alone in this opinion, but the way you're staggering and drooling on the floor tells me you need that bottle confiscated" you sigh, miserably attempting to snatch the alcohol from Rick's fingers.

"Hey s-s-sh-ut the fuck up Y/N, y-y-y-you're being ridiculous. I'm a-alwaaays drunk" Rick retorted, successfully pulling away the bottle away. He laughs before teetering again, placing his hands on your shoulders to balance himself.

You look up at him with a slightly annoyed expression. "Rick, I've been trying to get you to bed for 2 hours. Please just stop being stubborn and follow me."

He pokes your shoulders playfully now, "Oooooh, really? Into bed for w-what cause I think I'm down."

"Into bed for my sanity, please."

He scoffed in response, beginning to walk off into the Smiths' living room but knocked over the table near the wall instead.

"Rick, Jesus Christ," you tug on his arm and he bends down slightly, clearly fighting sleep to the best of his ability. He puts a hand in your hair and starts twirling it in his fingers slowly.

"How do youuu get it s-so bouncy?"

You're confused for a second and then stifle a laugh, as you've never seen Rick this vulnerable and... affectionate? before.

"I- uh, it's just volumizer" you respond.

He looks at you still in a dazed wondrous state. "It's pretty. And I-I don't like that wo-ORRD but you know, I guess I co-could tell you that now. I always n-notice it firSSTT when I see you," he burps out.

You feel a slight warmth in the pit of your stomach. Rick has always been playfully flirty with you here and there, but has never expressed any kind of genuine sentiment like this before.

"Thanks Rick, that's.. that's sweet of you."

"I-I-I mean like I actually think you're cu-cute like a little baby, i-it's weird," he goes on.

"Okay, tell me more, but let's go in here okay?" You gently place your arm under his and steer him towards his bedroom. He rolls his head to the side and gives a small "okay" in response.

You manage to drag him into his room and take his lab coat and pants off and get him onto the bed. "Ugh, see wh-what I mean, it's sick..ening" Rick slurs out, staring up at you.

"What?" You ask, sitting on the bed beside him.

"H-how fucking caring you are. G-god I just want to be around you aalllllll the time. I always hope it'll-it'll rub off on me b-but I don't think anyone could be as go-good natured as you."

Your cheeks burn red as you study his face, his head still bobbing while blinking at you slowly.

"A-and I know that I'll deny this sh-shit later but Y/N you're a saint. B-beautiful and delicate. And I've s-seen a lot o-o-of fine specimens b-but I think you're the truuee definition of a goddess."

Your mouth hangs agape a little as you realize that he's serious. He's not just spouting some speech, he's telling the truth. The unfiltered truth. Only drunk Rick does that, and you've only seen it twice before.

"Um, well- thank you Rick, you're uh, not so bad yourself. I've always-"

"Hey, shh, this was my confession t-time, not yours. J-just lay with me, pleaaseee.." you can see his eyes start to flutter shut as he holds an arm out to invite you into an embrace.

You lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arm tightly around your body before you both drift into a deep sleep.

----

In the morning, you awake to an empty bed and glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It reads 11:54 am. You're beginning to recall last night's events as Rick walks in, fully dressed. He clears his throat.

"So you wanna tell me why uh, you're in my bed?"

You snicker at this. "Oh, Rick, you suddenly don't remember?"

"Remember what? If we screwed, th-then clearly not. Must not have been that impressed sweetie."

"Nope, we didn't. Buuuut, you did basically praise me all night" you smirk.

"Not a chance," Rick laughs and crosses his arms sternly.

"You did though. And I know that for the smartest man in the universe, your memory isn't that bad. Even in a hangover," you tease now, desperate for him to admit to his vulnerability.

He sits on the bed beside you and leans to get in your face. "Are you that desperate for my attention that you're making things up?"

"Hmm, I guess so. Anyway, I've got to go get dressed and volumize my hair, we'll talk later," you smile as you get up to leave.

Before you go, you catch a small look of shock on his face and a quiet "shit" escape his mouth.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty #rick sanchez x oc #rick and morty season 6

[thebearer]

You were having a bad day and Carmy tries his best to get a laugh out of you to cheer you up

"What's wrong?" Carmen frowned, looking at your solemn looking expression, downturned lips and brows pinched together lightly.

"Nothin'." You mutter, looking back down at the cook book on the counter.

"Nothin'?" Carmen repeated, his tone lilting in that soft playfulness he always did when you were in a bad mood. When he was trying to coax you to talk, or smile, or anything- he couldn't stand when you got sad like this and wouldn't tell him.

Still, your lips didn't twitch fighting back a smile. No, instead you just sighed, heavy through your nostrils, flipping another page.

Carmen frowned this time, face falling, eyes skittering over your features nervously. Fuck, did he do something wrong? Say something? Forget something? His heart lurched with panic.

"Hey, c'mon. Look at me, baby." Carmen moved his hand, gently cupping your face. "What's wrong?"

Your eyes meet his, dull and tired looking. "Just had a really long day." You mutter.

"Yeah? What happened?" Carmen pressed, thumb gliding over your cheek bone, heart skipping when you snuggled into his hand.

"I don't even want to think about it." You groan, sighing dramatically, turning so your forehead rested in his palm. "Just want to not think for the rest of the day. I don't want another thought, or my brain will actually explode."

"Yeah?" Carmen hummed. "Think I got an idea for that. Lay back f'me, I'll help you out."

You glared at him lightly, rolling your eyes. "You're so funny, Berzatto."

Carmen grinned lightly, pushing you gently so you were propped on the arm of the couch. He draped your leg into his lap, snaking off your socks, his thumbs working into the arches of your feet. "Let me know if you have a thought, alright?"

You snort lightly, rolling your eyes, the tiniest smile playing across your lips. It had Carmen's heart soaring.

#thebearer #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto ​x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x female!reader #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto blurb #carmy berzatto #the bear

[gadriezmannsgirl]

I'll Come With You - P.G

¡Hola! I'm back with another Gavi fic! And just like my last one is TikTok related. I don't even like TikTok but my Youtube feed thinks otherwise and I end up watching some!😅🤣

You guys can send requests, if you'd like. I'd love to do some! Or if you just wanna talk about anything, there's the I'm here✨ Talk to me little button. I'm friendly!😂

Anyways, I'll leave you to read the fic in peace. Hope you like it! Please, let me know what you guys think of it.

P.S: This will start to get annoying for all of us but English isn't my native language, so I'm sorry if there's any misspelled word.

WARNINGS: CRAZY TALKING PABLO AND VERY LIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE CONTENT/ INSINUATION (NOTHING DESCRIPTIVE OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. IT'S SAFE FOR EVERYONE TO READ)

ENJOY!

You've seen a lot of times around TikTok these little prank, girls often do to their boyfriends, where the guys are doing nothing important and when it's really dark outside, they come up to their guys and say something among the lines of "I'm gonna jog around for a bit" or "I'm going to the store really quick" sort of thing to see their reactions.

You couldn't help but wanted to try it with Gavi, both of you were around the same age, but he definitely had a protective nature when it comes to you, his girl.

No matter who they were, what it was, nothing and I mean absolutely nothing and no one could hurt his girl or even think of it, because, just like he protects his teammates with a strong passion, he does the same with you. Or maybe more.

And he will not hesitate to get in a fight for you.

You knew it. And that's why you wanted to try it.

Gavi was currently on the sofa, watching a lil HBO series, Pedri told him to watch; you decided to start your little prank seeing him so relaxed, you didn't recorded a thing from it, you just wanted to know his reaction.

You pulled the hood of his black hoodie up to your head and went straight to lay on top of him

"Hola tú" He said welcoming you in his arms as you hide your face in the crock of his neck wrapping your arms around his torso, leaving a kiss in his neck.

You smiled feeling Gavi hum at your touch

"Hola" You said softly, you took your face out watching his profile

"Do I have something on my face?"

"Mucha guapura" (A lot of beauty) You joke around watching his smile slowly appear on his face

"That's what I used to make you fall in love with me"

"The ego just entered the conversation" We laugh lightly "I actually wanted to tell you something"

"Something's wrong?" You shake your head 'No' with a soft smile

"I'm not really tired, así que saldré por un ratico, you know... Walk it off" (I'll be out for a lil while) "Maybe jog around for a bit, 'til I grow tired"

"Okay, amor" He said nodding "Although, I have in mind something that can make you tired as well" You hit his arm

"Pablo Páez Gavira!" He laughed hard

"Ten cuidado, ¿Sí?" (Be careful, okay?) He gave you a kiss on your hairline and you slowly stood up walking towards the corridor where the principal door was

"¡HEY, ESPERA, NO!" (Hey, wait, no!) You heard his voice yell making you laugh lightly but tried to play it off when you felt him approach you

"What's up?" You asked

"You're not going anywhere alone, young lady" He said "It's too late for you to just 'Walk it off' all alone" He said putting his shoes on "So, I'll be going with you. We can walk around 'cause I also know you don't like jogging"

"Baby, no. It's alright, I can go on my own, nothing will happen"

"No, Y/N. I'm coming with you"

"Gavi, I'm-"

"I'm not letting you go out alone, amor. Look at you, you're beautiful, any guy would love to have you as his and I'm that fucking lucky guy and I'm taking care of you. I don't want you to be kidnapped without me knowing"

"What?" You asked in between giggles

"In fact, if anyone te secuestra, that would be me. I will not stand it if it goes otherwise. Imagine, me sitting here at home switching channels and the news be like: After a call from the police we can confirm, young lady Y/N got kidnapped. And I'll be like WTF?! It would give me a heart attack! And definitely not a good one"

"Who would call the police?! And after half an hour?!"

"I DON'T KNOW. But if you're gonna act this way with your kidnappers, I'm pretty sure they pay to bring you back here, I will accept you, gladly"

"Pablo"

"So, en resumen... We'll both go out, just in case, I can't allow anything like that happening to you. Not to you and not to my little heart... And if it rains? Dios mio, if it rains you can get sick and that means I won't get besitos for at least tres días!" (Three days) "No, señor, that's even worse. So, it's better if I just go with you"

You were laughing so hard, you were tearing up a bit

"¿Pero de que te ríes? No es gracioso" (But why are you laughing about? It's not funny)

You didn't replied to him, you just went ahead, grabbed both of his cheeks and gave him a kiss on his lips.

"Eres precioso. I'm not going out, it was just a prank, baby"

"Mentira" (Liar) He said after a while making you laugh again

"I just wanted to see your reaction of me going out alone at night" You laughed even more "Kidnapping... What the hell, Pablo?"

"I don't know, ok!? I was worried about you. I don't want anything bad happening to you, I'm sorry" You laughed while kissing his cheek "I don't even know if that made sense"

"Half of it, didn't" You said, lips still on his cheek and laughing "It's okay, I love you and I also love how much you care about me" You whispered against his lips, kissing them repeatedly

"I love you too" Pablo whispered before kissing you once more while wrapping his arms around you and bringing you close to him

"Is that thing that you had in mind a few minutes ago, still on?"

"For you? Always" He said making you laugh once more before picking you up and walking you through the house

°°° °°° °°° °°°

@gaviypedrisbride

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #Gavi #gavi x reader #fc barcelona #fc barca #he is gorgeous #M. Is writing #writing #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader

[softshuji]

You and Hanma have the habit of staying awake much past bedtime.

Or at least what can be called a bedtime in the chaotic life you lead. And maybe its the nature of his job that has him crawling to your bed late at night, where you're fixing your eyes on a Youtube video to keep them open and the strain makes them ache. But it's a regular occurance and you think maybe the small sacrifice of sleep is worth it when you consider how little you see of him. If it means snatching the hours with him then why not?

And really, he pretends like he might be exacerbated, making comments about how you "need your beauty sleep" but maybe he secretly likes it, small sacrifices to you that are worth ten times that to him.

'I thought I said you shouldn't have waited up for me,' he says, slipping down to next to nothing before sliding in next to you, as close as he possibly can be to steal the pockets of your warmth, strong arms that pull you entirely to his chest, curls of blond-brown hair that fall over his forehead when he leans down to nose at your neck.

'Mhm, wanted to though, you're always gone when I get up, I don't get to see you often enough sometimes,' you say. 'And it's just sleep, you know I'll be fine. Big girl remember?'

He pretends like it's only exacerbation that has him telling you, 'mhm you're getting too comfortable disboeying me aren't you sweetheart? I know you're my big girl but you still need to be sleeping.' But you sense the mirth underneath anyways, the soft undertone of sleep that leaves his voice a little raspy and rough and gravelly.( oh my fucking god help me im son in love fukvnnvgfkvkf )

You feign a tut under your breath and turn to move closer still, as if you could live inside his skin, and make a home inside his chest like that. 'Mhm yeah yeah, I know, whatever you say.' A little slower, a little more breathy and still fighting the sleep threatening to take you under and stifling a giggle all the same.

'"whatever you say?" You really do love giving me attitude don't you pretty girl?'

'Maybe. You love me too much to be annoyed at me though.'

He grumbles under his breath and you sense more than see him smiling from where his lips press to your hair, his glasses discarded on the side table drawer. And it's only when he doesn't respond that you turn to him to see the soft crinkle of his eyes now softening as he slips further into sleep just a moment away.

'You sleepy baby?' you say and your hand comes up to brush an eyelash from his cheek, watching the rest flutter and his throat slip and slide from where the thin gold chain sits neatly against his collarbones.

'mhm nah, just resting my eyes a bit,' he says and curls further against you, arms that pull flush against your stomach, big hands that press against your skin, all firmness and love and warmth. 'keep talking for me yeah? y'know I like the sound of your pretty voice.'

And when you do, menial details that never mean much, what you did today, where you went, what you ate, it never feels forced, never feels like you're overburdening him, never feels like anything but love especially when you feel his breath evening out against you, soft snores that lift the hairs on the nape of your neck, a warm sigh and tightening of his arms that never relents, that keeps you exactly where you love to be most. Right next to him.

Reblogs appreciated

(not proofread and yes left w all my artistic expression lol, my actual true feelings and comment s lmao enjoy)

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyorev x reader #hanma shuji #hanma x reader