#we never got it in the books so it would have been amazing to see in the show | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

usedpidemo · 5 months

Text

Plaid (Newjeans Hanni)

Hanni Pham is just about the perfect student: consistently top of the class, perennial dean’s lister, well liked among her teachers and peers, an active participant for every co-curricular and extracurricular activity, and overall just a good person to be around.

And you? You’re the exact opposite. Slow, lazy, constantly in self-isolation—always cutting classes whenever you can, struggling with just about everything. You’re surprised you’re still even attending this university as is, despite the countless talks with your professors.

Which is why when she greets you a good morning as soon as you run into each other in the hallway, the books you’ve been carrying crumble like Jenga blocks.

She immediately jumps into action, picking up your dropped books in record fashion to hand them back to you. The cute, irresistible smile etched on her lips is icing on the cake.

“Here you go!”

Admittedly, you feel some type of way about Hanni. It’s conflicting, constantly changing. A little bit of jealousy because she’s the student you wished you were, but also a bit of allure because of how surprisingly attractive she is. You’ve never felt any kind of attraction towards anyone in college besides her. And she turns out to be an exchange student, and you’ve never seen anyone with the combination of cuteness and beauty before she came along.

You take a moment to look into her eyes. Those gentle, warm irises perfectly capture the kindness emanating from her—God, why is she so damn irresistible. It isn’t that you’ve been giving her the cold shoulder, but you’re merely apathetic and neutral with her. Outside of the same brief rote exchanges—good morning, what’s your lunch, what are you doing after class later—you and Hanni have been, for the most part, worlds apart.

The universe is doing its part to bring you two together, because you can feel it. Tension so thin, you can cut it with a knife.

She never lets up.

She wants to know you.

“I-uh, thanks,” you say, suddenly averting her gaze to your locker instead as you snatch your books back, then in the other direction. Anywhere but her eyes.

Fuck. She keeps staring, leaning her head forward with a lively smile, her hands behind her back, waiting for you to continue. She talks with childlike passion and energy, “We have an exam in accounting later, did you study for it?”

“N-no,” you say, almost stuttering through the simplest of responses, as though your tongue is wrapped up in itself. It should be embarrassing for you to act this awkwardly in front of a sweet girl like Hanni. Mentally punching yourself to be better. It never happens. “Not exactly, I kinda forgot.”

More like you willingly neglected your studies for a nightlong gaming session. It’s an addiction.

Her eyes widen with amusement, as if she sees through the lie. Does she? You don’t know. Maybe she does. There’s so many layers to her that you never bothered to uncover. That’s the price for your negligence and decision to be a lone-wolf.

Hanni reaches her hand into the pocket of her dress shirt and presents a folded up sheet of paper. “Then this with you. Just make sure to hide it underneath the test paper, got it?”

From bewilderment to amazement—your face goes through every emotion, unsure of what would perfectly suit the situation. She doesn’t know you well enough to casually entrust you with a cheat sheet, yet she’s perfectly fine handing it to you over her presumed friends, which includes members of the student council.

Initially, you hesitate, but she’s steadfast in her position, as if you receiving this paper is doing her a favor. You ultimately fold and accept it from her. She grins as you tuck the sheet away in your coat.

“See you later!” she says, before walking past you to her next class. You slowly turn around, watch her leave and rejoin with her friends, one of whom is the student council head. Alone with nothing but your thoughts, you put the strange encounter aside and get moving again.

—————

The next time you see Hanni again is during world history class, right before lunch. Your rather senile professor, who doesn’t give a shit that half the class is either fast asleep, on the verge of, or doing everything else apart from listening to his monotonous lecture, drones on about Napoleon’s European conquest for the second week in a row. Even the patient student that you are, you’ve grown tiresome of it, especially with the dreadful pacing. You’re way behind schedule. At the very least, he seems to be paid well, so there’s a little silver lining.

Looking at her, you wonder if the gods were in a good mood on the day they made her. She’s as enthusiastic about the topic as if it's her first time hearing it. Listening to every single word intently, taking down notes furiously, taking pictures of the presentation even though she has it projected on her laptop because why the fuck not—she was born to be the teacher’s pet. Compare that to half of the class: even the supposed top student in the class is barely struggling to stay awake, clinging to the edges of her seat out of fear she could collapse from sheer boredom. It’s a miracle, really, that there’s at least one student showing this much interest.

The notion creeps up in your mind: Hanni’s right over there, without a care except for the lecture at hand. Your phone rests on the edge of your chair. Her smile, her shine—you want to keep more than just a mental image of her. Something to actively remind you that someone like her exists. It’s creepy, but it doesn’t matter when no one’s looking, especially not her. Only you.

Little by little your hand crawls toward the phone. Then the moral compass inside you resists. You don’t know this girl—not in the slightest. Just because of a simple kind act doesn’t mean you’re completely smitten over her. Most importantly, you remember one important point about Hanni: she’s not from here. She’s an exchange student with a one year contract set to expire in—wait for it—two weeks. The semester ends before then, and it’s reasonable to assume she’ll be gone from your life just as quickly as she entered it once the page turns.

Right as the inner conflict inside your head reaches a fever pitch, the bell rings. On one side, you’re celebrating this moral victory; on the other, you��re punching a mental wall for not pulling the trigger. Before the professor even realizes the alarm already sounded off, all the students have filed out of the room in quick succession.

You briefly consider searching for Hanni in the sea of students making their way around the halls, but seeing that she’s disappeared into the crowd, you decide to let her go. Perhaps the logical side of your brain might be telling you the truth: that she will be a mere afterthought to you after today.

But then there’s the unshakeable, unceasing part of you that refuses to give in. Even as you eat lunch at the corner of the cafeteria, you’re still trying to single out Hanni to no avail. A hopeless situation gradually growing worse with each passing hour.

A not so subtle tap on your shoulder. Look to your side and there’s your angel, appearing at your hour of need. Hanni.

“Hey! Still have the cheat sheet I gave you earlier?” she asks. A few meters behind her is the student council president, Minji, and her secretary, Danielle, engaged in their own conversation, presumably accompanying their friend.

You scramble to find the folded piece of paper somewhere in your bag, forgetting that you’ve tucked the sheet away deep in your coat. Panicked, you jump from your seat to search within your clothes, still unable to detect its tiny presence hiding in your jacket. “Shit—”

“I can give you another copy if you lost it—”

“I’m sure it’s in here somewhere!” you interject, tonally desperate, repeatedly swiping your fingers on the same pockets with no success.

Eventually, you frisk the deepest pockets of your coat, feeling something rough on the edge of your fingertips. Reeling it out, you present a folded piece of paper in front of her. It should be a small win, but it’s an embarrassing loss, especially right in front of Hanni.

“Good to know you still have it!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. You’re certain she was trying to suppress her chuckle the entire time, and based on her toothy smile, it’s not very difficult to jump to that conclusion. “Even if you didn’t lose it, I still would have given you another copy if you wanted it.”

“Hanni.” You turn to face her, a complete juxtaposition from her jolly, outgoing personality. Your expression looks stern in searching for answers. “Why are you like this? We barely know each other.”

Surprised by your sudden change in attitude, she takes a step back, pausing to contemplate her answer. Her usually bright demeanor gradually changes to reflect yours. Her smile remains, except it's hiding a little gloom, a little concern. “I just wanted to be kind to you. I saw you were struggling in some of the classes we shared and thought you needed some help. It’s only right to do the right thing, you know?”

In that moment, you regret showing a bit of attitude. Hand to your chest, as guilt occupies your heart and mind. “Oh.” You pause, stare back into those wanting eyes. “I-I guess you were really being kind to me, huh?”

“I don’t make fake answer sheets, let alone give them to people I dislike.” She leans forward, causing you to stagger back, bumping your thighs against the cafeteria stool. “And I like you.”

Your mouth gradually opens, trying to figure out what to say, how to react. Only air and silent noises come out. You genuinely have no idea how to respond to this sudden revelation. It’s not like you’re a popular name among the student body, let alone the ladies; if anything, you were mostly a ghost, only coming into light when needed—and in most cases, when the professors would ask you questions about the topic at hand.

Blinking rapidly, you needed to do a double take. “Say that again?”

“I like you.” She repeats it for you. Twice. With increasing emphasis on those three words to drive the statement home. “I. Like. You.”

Let that sink in. You still don’t know what to say. “I—”

“We can talk about this later in the afternoon. Meet me at Room 204, okay? I’m in a rush and I just wanted to briefly check on you.” You watch her tone revert back to its beaming, bubbly self with each sentence. Before you even have an opportunity to say anything back, she rejoins her friends and walks away again, waving at you while shouting, “Remember what I told you about the cheat sheet!”

—————

Aside from accounting, where you followed Hanni’s advice down to the letter, the rest of the afternoon kept your thoughts mostly preoccupied with Hanni’s departing words. The two classes you shared with her during that period were opportunities to stare at her, watch her from a distance. Three simple words, and yet there’s layers upon layers to uncover. What did she mean when she said them? You barely interacted for most of the semester, yet she still considers you likable. During those long, painful hours of waiting, your curiosity and anticipation slowly built up.

And then, the bell rings at the top of the seventeenth hour. Time to find out.

While students file out in every direction, celebrating their regained freedom, you make your way through Room 204. Peeking from the outside, you see no one inside, not even Hanni. It looks about the same as when you left it—messy. You’re anxious, hesitant, cautious. There’s a part of you that believes she’s merely playing you in front of her friends, and that she might stand you up as a joke. And you have no reason to believe she genuinely likes you, apart from that one simple act of kindness from earlier.

For the next few minutes, in those crucial moments of waiting, all your thoughts and presumptions begin waging war inside your head. You have one foot on the door, with the other looking to go home. It’s not the first time you’ve been stood up; you can write an entire thesis report going over each terrible experience and the feeling of bitterness and pining that followed. At the very least, should push come to shove, this wouldn’t be the worst of them—not even bottom five.

So you pace back and forth in front of the designated room, look at your phone, followed by your watch. Again and again. Minutes, stretching to hours, into days, into a slow eternity. You’re starting to lose hope.

Which is why when she comes across you in the hallway, you feel like a kid finding love for the first time all over again. You’re not even trying to hide your excitement. The stunned and relieved expression etched on your lips, the growing shade of red across your face, the hitch in your arms as they reach out to her because you couldn’t believe she would follow through on her word—

And when she flashes her toothy smile, her mouth speaking words you end up missing—you just want to take her by the hand and run away with her.

She ends up calling your name. Twice, thrice, a dozen times—you’re not exactly sure, but you can definitely lose yourself to the sight of Hanni’s presence over and over. With a hand held on the door, she’s telling you to join her inside, saying she has something important to share with you. At least that’s the very gist of it.

At her request, you leave your bag on one of the vacant seats; you end up sharing the same chair. The tension is palpable. Hanni paces back and forth in front of the desk, quietly ruminating, hiding her concerned look away from your eyes. A wakeup call for you that this is a serious matter. You have a lot of unanswered questions, but seeing the gravity of the moment, you conclude that it’s better to keep them to yourself a little while longer—at least once all the heavy air has been cleared. You stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to make the first move.

“I just want to say,” she suddenly says, still turned away from you, long streaks of dark hair covering her eyes. What they can’t hide is the frown on her lips. “I’m going to miss this place. All the profs, all the activities, but most importantly, all the people. Including you.”

“Me?” You’re not surprised at that statement; you’ve assumed she wasn’t going to be here for the long haul, considering she’s an exchange student. What does confuse you, is how she specifically singled you out from everyone else. You barely know each other. At best, you only teamed up for two group projects, which she mostly did the carrying for. For you, the bar has been set very, very low. “How come me?”

Hanni finally faces you, using everything in her willpower not to cry. Her usually lively eyes twinkle with tears waiting to be shed, but she refuses. Not even the warmest of her smiles can hide the somber and pained expression she has looking at you. “Most of the boys here are—excuse my language—a bunch of fucking jackasses and perverts.”

Not exactly wrong; if you weren’t part of an athletics club or hanging out at bars after class, you were likely to be one of their victims. You know this because you are numb to their asshole behavior. The girls would usually retreat in a subtle manner once they knew their presence, which wasn’t difficult to pinpoint.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “You’re right. I hate their guts too—”

“But you’ve been kind to me from the moment I introduced myself, you know?” Hanni begins to walk toward you, rendering you even more frozen in place. “Even our brief good mornings meant quite a lot. It made me feel welcome.”

You didn’t really think much of it, unaware that it would have this profound of an impact in someone else’s life. And why would you—it’s a habit you’ve been taught since when you were seven. For a moment, you’d think she was being very melodramatic, as if she were practicing theater.

“And—” she pauses, takes a deep breath, “Let’s be honest; I know you like me too.”

When she drops those final words, your eyes pop. Wide. Enough to stretch through your forehead and fly up. It leaves you completely paralyzed. A whole truth bomb dropped just like that. She cusps your hands with hers; you freely allow her. Whether it's from utter shock or the desire to hold her like this for so long, you don’t know, but you definitely want to let this moment linger.

“I-I—”

You can feel her hot breath against yours, her face inching closer, your bodies almost entangling into something passionate and warm. There’s nothing stopping you both from finally bridging the gap that’s been separating you for the longest time. Hanni, the charming, popular girl that everyone either wants to be friends with or to be her, seemingly knows you like a book read from left to right. More importantly, she likes you. Tells it straight to your face.

Her arms snake around your neck, leaving you even more suffocated. No longer in her grasp, you find your hands pressed around tiny, fit waist. Her glinting eyes encourage you to let those innermost desires run wild. The suppressed thoughts you’ve been hiding slowly pull you under their influence. You shouldn’t be doing this, yet they’re right there: those sweet, puckery, inviting lips, waiting to be marked, yours and yours alone.

Instead, you end up in a tight embrace. It’s not as romantic as you envisioned. If anything, it’s bittersweet. Deep down, this is her way of saying goodbye, and you’re only realizing what this is really all about. An opportunity to bid farewell on amicable terms. It’s almost cruel that your first substantial interaction outside of school-related activities has to be like this.

You hold on to her tighter. She does the same. You’re unwilling to let go. She doesn’t want to, either.

Resting her head on your shoulder, Hanni whispers in your ear the most calming and soothing tone, “I’m going to miss you.”

You don’t believe you’ve earned the right to say those words back. So the only thing you can do is hold on to her the best you can—for dear life.

Outside, the setting sun is gradually fading away, and so does the natural light it brings. You can stay here, from dusk to dawn, comfortable in this position if she wants to.

She opens her mouth again, and she continues to hum and speak melodies in your ear. “I have one thing I want to do before saying goodbye. Can you help me?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, you nod, saying, “Anything for you.”

Hanni breaks the bear hug then leads you along with her to the desk. With the other hand, she lifts it back to her waist, placing herself in a new and unexpected position: her back arched against the table, with one knee bent beside yours. Her eyes glinting with utter desire, she couldn’t be any more obvious.

Before the realization fully dawns on you, she does the unthinkable.

A simple irresistible kiss, pulling you down by the collar of your coat. Next thing you know, you have Hanni’s back crooked further against the edge of the desk, your lip-lock turning more and more passionate. Nothing overly dramatic and sentimental—only passionate love making.

She wants it. Deep down, you want it too.

“I can’t—” you mutter, drawing your breath, pulling your lips away. But not your hands. It’s in Hanni’s custody now. Your coat halfway down your arms, she sneakily tosses it aside. “Not here.”

Surprised by your sudden change of heart, she leans forward, her fingers now pulling at the hem of your sleeves. “What’s wrong?”

“I mean—look around, Hanni. We’re in a goddamn classroom.”

If only you could throw your arms around in protest to prove a point, but even that wouldn’t save you now.

“This is what I wanted from the start.” Hanni pulls you back in, her eyes hypnotic and irresistible, shining like gold. “You wanted this, too. Don’t play.”

“Hanni—”

She stops you right in your tracks with an impulsive peck on the lips. Curling them through the kiss to form a smile, she murmurs, “Don’t think, just do.”

And you do just that. Kiss her, make out with her as if your life depended on it.

Hanni’s lips taste like they’re meant for you. Sweet like honey. Divine. Heavenly. If it were possible, you’d want to choke on your own breath holding onto them for dear life. Not to mention the hums coming out of her mouth, those subdued mewls that she releases whenever you bite on her bottom lip—you can’t help but sink back in whenever you consider the thought of letting go.

There’s no reason not to; you have this pretty little thing, Hanni Pham, all to yourself. Even your body knows how rare of an opportunity this is. With one hand quietly slipping between her pencil skirt, you navigate your way to the depths of her heat without breaking the kiss. In a flash, she throws her head back, snapping her mouth wide at the new sensation. All that cool, calm expression, gone in an instant.

“Fuck—”

“God, Hanni. You’re so wet.”

She grabs your wrist—that mischievous hand newly buried in her pussy—and urges you further, “Keep doing that. That felt so good.”

And God, does everything about finger fucking her feel incredible. The satisfying squelch of her cunt as your digits press against her warmth, the continuous twisting of her features as she crumbles from the pleasure, leaving her neck exposed for your lips to newly conquer, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing all over Hanni’s body. Seeing her, this usually larger than life figure, fall under your spell pushes you even further.

Like Hanni, you’re still young; there’s only pleasure and the thrill of moving too fast and reckless. One day you’ll end up regretting this, ruminating over memories that could ultimately end you before you even started, but you’d rather take this memento than leave with nothing at all.

You’re both already past the point of no return. Hanni’s underwear hangs casually between her ankles while they’re wrapped around your waist, her neck filled with bite marks and deep shades of red that no piece of fabric can hide. Her dress shirt is partially unbuttoned, revealing a white camisole desperately seeking to be removed, and if that wasn’t enough, she’s made the crucial decision not to wear a bra today.

Fuck, that bulging ache in your pants is so agitating—both physically and mentally.

“Wait,” you say, suddenly turning around and locking the door quickly, letting her panties fall freely to the floor. It proves to be a little struggle when you unknowingly use your slick-coated hand over your dry one.

“Should have done that first,” she playfully chides, chuckling at you.

Returning to her with your drenched fingers pointed in the direction of her pussy, you respond, “Should have chosen anywhere but the classroom.”

“You’re saying you’d rather do this during our Christmas party?” Hanni lifts an eyebrow, taunting.

“Only if they allowed it.”

“And all those cheat sheets I handed you, all that for nothing?”

“Shut up. Didn’t need them, anyway.”

Hanni can’t help but burst into boisterous laughter. There’s no use locking that door now.

Even with the little time spent together, there’s clearly magic between you, the signs of what should have been a beautiful relationship. If only you both knew that. But now’s not the time to go over what ifs—only what’s next.

She stops you right as you ready yourself, grabbing the top button of your shirt. Using only her expressive eyes for approval, you steadily watch on till they’re completely undone. You’re left with the job of removing your undershirt and helping her toss your clothes aside. On the other hand, you’re in no rush to undress her completely; she’s a perfect mess as is with her unbuttoned uniform, her panties somewhere between your feet, and her taut nipples poking through the fabric.

And Hanni wants it that way. You’ve barely entertained the idea of running your fingers through her skirt when she interrupts your train of thought.

“You haven’t done it yet,” she says looking at your greedy, grubby hands, directing them with hers underneath her garment. “Make me cum. Please.”

As if you had any other intention. Maybe with something better, but that’s usually saved later—and for good reason.

You’re trying so hard not to curse through gritted teeth. Fuck. This. Damned. Skirt. Admittedly, it’s cute and perfectly suits Hanni; it adds to the appeal of seeing this usually meek, well behaved student asking for something more than naughty—it’s downright criminal—but you need to see what makes her really tick. Hanni’s clicking her tongue, growing more frustrated by the second than you are, anxiously waiting for you to come through. Carefully, you push a finger into her, then another, moving in delicate and systemic motion.

Then, it all clicks in perfect harmony:

She releases this pent-up moan from the depths of her chest, as though it were a heave of relief. The initial plunge from earlier makes plunging between her slick folds so much easier. You take a moment to let the satisfying sound sink in: the wet slop of her cunt as it reflexes against your fingers, unable to keep yourself from moaning with delight before you slowly draw back, then in again.

From there, everything takes care of itself.

Hanni dissolves into a whimpering mess, under the hypnotic spell of your fingers fucking her pussy in tempered, intricate strokes, effortlessly and handily. Body shaking, desk quivering under the pressure of her weight, her hands struggling to find reprieve from the overwhelming sensations thundering all over her. She can barely breathe, let alone find the words to speak. Only quick curses. Each and every word so gratifying to hear.

“Fuck—fuck—its—its—so—good—more—”

You don’t give her any breathing room. In the brief moments when you lax, with your fingers either motionless deep within her cunt or pull back, leaving marks on her inner thighs with her own slick, you’re all over her, gently fondling her and kissing her. Half her uniform’s sleeve has fallen down her shoulder, giving you more of her body for you to claim as your own. With every little touch and thing you do, you continue to set her nerves ablaze with nothing to quench her lust.

It’s no wonder she’s such a teacher’s pet; she loves to follow along without any resistance or objection. A fact proven when you lift her undershirt to expose her taut nipples, and your free hand impulsively takes them. You give her left tit a twist, and from her needy lips comes a sharp whine.

“Do it again,” she says, panting, nodding her head wildly, visibly overwhelmed. She doesn’t know what hit her, but it feels fucking amazing.

Of course, you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity, even if she hadn’t asked. Hanni’s body, all yours for the taking. Not everyone can say they fucked the top girl in the class in the classroom of all places.

And you let your body do all the talking. No amount of words nor their depth can adequately describe the sensation of tasting and feeling her figure. First your free fingers, then your tongue—they make their mark on her chest while your other digits crawl to a lazy pace inside her cunt. Not that she minds—she’s too engrossed in the blissful sensation to remotely care. Her hands find their way around your neck and back, scratching and digging away at your skin in an attempt to pull you even closer.

It aches—but not as much as the ache in Hanni’s core. As you inch her closer to climax, you can feel her tremble, propping her head on your shoulder now as her outlet, whimpering, crying, mewling. “Almost—” she mumbles, before she’s caught up again in the sea of her own pleasure. Knowing this, the rest of your body moves like it’s second nature. Faster and deeper, you continue your endless assault on her body, until—

Suddenly, Hanni freezes up, moans over your ear as a moment of silent calm follows. In the succeeding moments, you both remain clung together as her orgasm hits. And by god, it hits her like lightning. Sharp and brutal. Fingers stuck deep in her core as she gushes, quivers all over them. It lingers, leaves you both incapacitated.

Minutes that could easily stretch into hours, stuck on a desk, basking in the afterglow of unadulterated bliss. Eventually, she lifts up her head and lets out a deep breath of relief. Her hands remain entangled with your hair as she pulls herself back. A scope down gives you a short but telling extent of the damage: copious amounts of slick dripping on the edge of the table, down to the floor. You’re a little terrified of what your fingers will look like.

Through half-lidded eyes, Hanni flashes you a smile as she slowly realizes the mess she has become. Cheeks flustered with embarrassment, she quickly pushes down her undershirt, but they can’t hide her nipples’ rigidness. You’re both grinning at each other like mischievous pranksters. Something tells you that despite everything, it’s not enough. The fire in her eyes and the confidence in her laugh says it all: she’s looking for more trouble, and one way or another, you’re gonna be her accomplice.

Before you can even utter a word, you both hear a knock on the door. Through the casted silhouette, you recognize that it’s a janitor. Spent energy be damned, you’re brought back to reality. You quickly turn to Hanni in a state of alarm, “Shit. I told you not told to do this in the classroom—”

Reaching out her hand, she replies, “It’s gonna be fine! Give me my bag and I’ll get us out of this.”

You immediately rush Hanni her bag, and while you hastily put yourself back in one piece, she grabs a pack of tissues to clear all evidence of your little escapade. In no time, you’ve somehow returned the place in nearly the same position you found it. Only one difference: her panties are left on the floor, and she hasn’t bothered to pick them up.

“Wait, your underwear—” you tell her as you pick them off the floor. She’s already on the edge of the classroom, opening up one of the windows to escape. It’s not a suicide jump; only someone with brittle bones could possibly break their legs doing the drop, and there’s really no other choice: run away with her or find yourself at the dean’s office on your first day back after the holidays.

“Keep it if you want.” Hanni shoots you a playful wink and a cheeky grin as she lifts one leg over the open window. “We don’t have much time, so unless you wanna explain yourself to the profs—”

“I’m already in trouble regardless,” you reply as you join her on the way out. You didn’t need to think about what to do. “Got eight missed phone calls from my fam. I’m fucked regardless. Might as well make the most of our time while we’re here.”

—————

A/N: Happy new year! I never thought I’d write something for NewJeans, but never say never. Hanni was easily the scene stealer for me at the Asia Artist Awards, she and the other members constantly waved at us from beginning to end, and they were killer performers! I can see why she’s so adored; she’s both talented and adorable. It’s been difficult getting back into writing after one month away, so this definitely is a feel-out attempt, but I hope it’s still good anyway. Here’s to the coming year and hopefully more to come. Thanks for reading!

P.S. I sincerely want to take this moment to apologize for my slow production. As previously mentioned, I got hit with a severe case of the flu, which kept me down for almost two weeks. Since recovering, I’ve been experiencing weird cases of brain fog, where sometimes my mind ‘isn’t there’ and it feels like my body’s been moving on autopilot. I’ve been getting healthier since then, but the so-called absentmindedness still remains. I’ve tried writing a few times since then, and it honestly feels like I’ve forgotten how to write. Hell, this fic was supposed to be out on Christmas day and I’ve struggled to put it together! It’s been very rough. I don’t wanna make promises because I’ll just end up breaking them, so I’ll just say that I’m trying my damned hardest to get back to that level I had been moving before my momentum stalled. I always want to deliver the best possible fic for you to enjoy. Thank you so much for being patient with me as always <3

#smut #kpop smut #newjeans #hanni

1K notes · View notes

demonpiratehuntress · 5 months

Text

can we...cuddle?

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

summary - Law really wants to cuddle with you, but he's just not that good at asking for it.

warnings - not proofread, wrote it at 23:30 on New Year's Eve, pretty tired from an eventful day. also wanted to get it out before my tribute to Ace for his birthday at 12am.

a/n - fluff fluff fluff, this just popped into my head because i was thinking about soft!law and how much i love him

Law had never been great at asking for anything he needs or wants. He was either too prideful or too embarrassed, depending on the situation. And with you, the embarrassment part seemed a lot more prominent, because he was starting to feel unusually clingy and needy for your attention and affection. It was embarrassing.

He has an issue with outright asking for it, though. He's usually a put-together, calm man who is always in control of what he feels and how he acts. However, around you, his body seems to forget that and his mind and heart both yearn for yours. He wants to be the only thing you think of, he wants to be the only one you love and show affection to, and he wants to be the only one you ever hold.

But he could never gather up the courage to ask you to hold him, damn it!

He would see you cuddling Bepo, and envy the bear for one of two things. One, for being so easily approachable for cuddles. Two, for being able to ask you for cuddles so easily. Law wasn't the jealous type, but he'd quickly learned that when he started dating you, he'd feel and do a lot of things he'd never dreamed of before.

"You okay, Law?"

Your soft voice brought him out of his irritated thoughts, and his expression softened considerably when his eyes landed on you. You looked tired, your eyes were drooping and your body was slumping, and Law had never seen anything cuter.

"Yes, (Name)-ya." He gently grabbed your elbow, leading you away. "Let's get you to bed now, sleepyhead."

You smiled at that, giggling in the most adorable way that had Law's heart flipping in his chest. He was both amazed and annoyed that you held such power over him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I'm not sleepy, you're sleepy."

He chuckled at that, guiding you into the room you both shared. For once, his work went ignored on the desk as he steered you towards the bed, his tense body only relaxing when you were safely lying on the mattress, pulling him down beside you.

"(Name)-ya-" He started, but you were already softly snoring, gripping onto his shirt like a baby. He would never admit it out loud, but the sight was enough to melt even his frigid heart.

He sighed. Another failed attempt at asking for cuddles. He got the cuddles anyway, but he wanted to be the one asking so he could show you that he craved your touch as much as you craved his.

The next time he tried to ask, you were laying in bed reading a book as you waited for him to finish working.

Once he was sick of whatever he was doing, he got up and slowly made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and discarding his coat before flopping down next to you. So preoccupied by your book, you hadn't noticed his arrival.

"What are you reading, (Name)-ya?"

You jumped in fright, the book flying out of your hands and settling on the floor next to the bed. Law's deep rumble of laughter met your ears, and you blushed in embarrassment, smacking his arm lightly and playfully.

"Law! Don't do that!"

"I'm sorry," he apologised insincerely, smirking. "You're so easy to scare."

You pouted, "You're mean."

"You love me anyway," his chest swelled at the fact.

"I do, I very much do," you smiled, heart warming.

You leaned over the side of the bed to pick your book up, but when you got back up you were met with a sleeping Law laying next to you. It was rare for him to fall asleep before you, but you knew he had been working himself non-stop, even more so than usual lately. You smiled softly, setting your book aside and thinking you'll find your page tomorrow as you shifted closer to the slumbering doctor, curling up close to him.

Law woke up the next day feeling incredibly disappointed. He had fallen asleep before he could even try asking you to cuddle him. He'd woken up to you cuddling him, but he still felt displeased by his irritating inability to state his need for your touch.

You woke up a little later in the morning, to a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. You smiled, knowing that was one of Law's ways of showing he cared. He couldn't cook, but he could make you coffee and did so every morning he woke up before you. Which, let's be real, is almost every morning. On the rare occasion you wake up before him, you have a full breakfast ready for him and a planned speech on how he should not feel guilty for not being able to do the same for you.

"Good morning, love."

You looked up at a working Law, hunched over his desk as he furiously scribbled something in his notebook. Your smile grew, and you slowly sat up in bed.

"Morning, captain."

He groaned, "I call you love and you call me captain?"

You giggled, "Sorry, my love. My baby. My one and only."

He hummed in satisfaction, "Much better." The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

You didn't mind much that he wasn't looking at you. He was paying attention to what you were saying, and that was more than enough for you. You knew how he could get, and had learned a long time ago to embrace and accept it.

"What will you do today?" He suddenly asked, a tad bit nervously.

"Well," you began, "Seeing as we are docked at an island and you're allowing everyone to take the day off, I think I might just stay right here in bed all day."

"Is that so?" He asked, amused. "How lazy."

You laughed at his teasing, the sound going straight to his heart. It swelled in response, growing warm in his chest. Your laugh was one of the few things that Law genuinely loved to listen to. He liked the way it made him feel, but also the fact that he had been the one to cause it.

"Very," you agreed. "But it's fun, you should try it sometime."

He finally turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you giving me orders, (Name)-ya?" His tone was teasing, his smile wicked.

"Hmmm, maybe," you taunted, grinning.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh, before a calm smile tugged at his lips. Pushing his work aside, he got up from his seat and walked over to the bed, gingerly sitting on the edge.

"I suppose I can indulge you just this once, then. Since no one is around to hear just how bossy you really are."

You laughed at that, eagerly shifting to make space for him, "What can I say? Sometimes my captain needs a little bossing to relax a little bit."

He chuckled, "I don't deny that."

Then, again, Law found himself struggling to ask for your touch. He wanted to ask you to cuddle him so badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. Finally, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he tried his best.

"(Name)-ya," he started nervously, "I like that thing you do...where you pull me close and hug me...but in bed." He waited for you to say something, but you remained silent but smirking, as if you knew what he wanted but you just wanted him to say it. He swallowed thickly. "You know where...you wrap your arms around me and keep me against your warm body." He blushed at his own words.

"Hmmm, what might you be speaking of, babe?" You teased him, evil grin on your face.

He sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his dark hair, "I'm trying to say...I mean I want to ask...do you-can we...can we cu-" He paused, silently mouthing the word. "Cuddle? Can we cuddle?"

Your eyes widened, because you hadn't really expected him to say it. Then you smiled and happily opened your arms for the flustered doctor. He obliged, sinking into them just as happily, a contented sigh leaving his lips.

"Law?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really glad you finally asked."

"Me too."

And from then on, Law wasn't shy to ask, he wasn't shy to pull you aside and just hug you, and he wasn't shy to show you that he needed to touch you just as much as you needed to touch him.

Congratulations, you unlocked Clingy Trafalgar Law.

#one piece #op #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x reader #one piece trafalgar law #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece trafalgar law x reader #one piece trafalgar law x you #one piece law #one piece law x reader #one piece law x you

927 notes · View notes

wilwheaton · 10 months

Text

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw exploitation #child actor #still just a geek #lucio fulci #trauma survivor #speaking up for the child who was silenced by his abusers

2K notes · View notes

darealsaltysam · 2 months

Text

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani kynes #jessica atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #rabban harkonnen #vladimir harkonnen #stilgar #alia atreides #irulan corrino #im so crazy im so feral holy shit #okay im going to bed now #its 1 am lmao #ive been writing these down for like 2 hours since i got back

654 notes · View notes

michelleleewise · 1 year

Text

Bewitched

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: somnophilia, thigh riding, masturbation, spells gone wrong, "sex-pollen" type fic, swearing, dirty talk, loki speaking Norwegian, swearing, mildly explicit smut, unprotected sex, penatration (p in v), fluffy ending.

Summary: you borrowed a book from Loki's personal library, and weren't prepared for the consequences.....

A/n-graphics by @harlequin-hangout. This story inspired by my dear @mochie85 and her amazing story "Pheromones". Thank you so much my dear for all your help and support!! This story absolutely got away from me, it's definitely longer so be prepared 💚💚

You walked into Loki's room, slowly closing the door behind you making your way to his overly large book case. He had been away on a mission for the last week, but told you to feel free to borrow whatever you wished. Carefully putting back the ones you had borrowed you browsed his large collection. Running your fingers along the spines you couldn't help smile, knowing you were one of the only ones, if not the only one allowed in his room, let alone allowed to borrow his books.

Over the last year you had grown close to the God, being born with powers you didn't understand, let alone control had made your life burdensome. You didn't have many friends, your family had basically disowned you, dropping you at an orphanage. Apparently you were too unpredictable for them to handle. But Loki had taken you under his wing, helped you understand your abilities, even training you to control them. On more then one occasion telling you how proud he was of you....calling you his "little witch" making your heart flutter.

You wandered over to his personal books, ones he had been able to save and being back with him when they had to leave Asgard and come to earth. You pulled out one of the larger volumes, Your fingers running over the golden runes inscribed on the cover. Tucking it under your arm remembering you could translate it with your phone you walked back towards the door, glancing around seeing his daggers displayed on the wall, his desk neatly organized not a thing out of place. A warm feeling running over you picturing him laying on the couch reading...sitting at the desk writing some long letter, his long slender fingers wrapped around his pen.

A shudder running through you thinking about those fingers gliding aross your skin, gently wrapping around your throat as he took what he wanted from you, claiming you for his. You shook the images out of your head remembering he was your friend, your mentor, your teacher. He would never see you as you saw him. Sighing you hugged the book to your chest, grabbing the knob turning the lights off as you closed his door, smiling as you made your way back to your room excited to see what knowledge the book contained.

"AGAIN!" Loki yelled, throwing another green blast at you, deflecting it just in time as another came out of nowhere knocking you off your feet. You laid on your back trying to catch your breath when he came over looking down at you "have you not kept up your training in my absence?" He asked crossing his arms "y...yes...i...have." You panted grabbing your chest "then you would not be so easy to defeat. On your feet, we are going again." He said sternly walking out of your vision. You sat up watching him walk to the other side of the room, he looked powerful, regal, you would give him the world if you could. "I said up...now!" He yelled making you jump.

You got to your feet, bringing your hands up holding them out emitting a purple glow, watching his glow green. "This time you shall have no warning, you must react on instinct y/n." He said as you nodded, planting your feet in a defensive stance, watching him slowly stalk around you. Your anxiety rose as your eyes followed him, traveling between his hands and his face seeing him smirk. You saw something in your peripheral, turning slightly to see what it was you were hit in the chest hard by Loki's seidr, once again landing on your back. "Y/n where are you? You are not focusing!" He yelled as you sat up rubbing your chest.

"Loki, I'm only....ow human. What do you...." you were cut off as he drug you up to your feet, gripping your shoulders "you are not merely human y/n, your are...more." He said clenching his jaw "and I expect more from you then what you are giving me." He snapped as you looked to the floor "i..I'm sorry, it's just.." you started "don't be sorry, be better. How am i to be sure you will be alright out there hmm?" He asked as you looked back up at him, the green of his eyes seeming to glow "how will I know...." he started, feeling his thumb rubbing your arm, his eyes shooting to your lips and back. "Loki..." you whispered when he dropped his hands "I expect better next session." He said storming towards the door, leaving you alone with your wounded pride.

You made it back to your room, the look of disappointment on Loki's face was burned into your mind as you walked to the bathroom. You knew when he came back from missions he was like this. Harder, firmer, more demanding, but it didn't hurt any less seeing that look. "I'll never be good enough." You sighed, turning the shower on you slipped your training clothes off, throwing them in the corner as you stepped into the shower, the hot water making you wince as it hit your sore muscles. You wanted to be better, to impress him but it seemed to be a losing battle. You sighed, wrapping a towel around you you walked into your bedroom. Putting on a tank top and some sleep shorts you walked into the living room.

Flopping down on the couch you saw Loki's book on the coffee table. You hadn't had a chance to look at it yet with everything that had been going on, but now would be as good a time as any. You got up, grabbing your phone and a piece of paper and pen you sat back down, opening the book to a random page seeing the runes running along one side, a picture of a heart engulphed in flames on the other. You slid to the floor, opening your phone you went down the page finding the word for each rune writing down the translation, smiling as you reached the end. "Ok, now let's see what your saying." You said to yourself leaning back.

Hearts Desire

Suns shine, and moons shimmer,

Love and passion meet in shadow,

The fire burns, the flames grow higher,

The body yearns, the hunger grows,

Only sated by your hearts desire...

As you recited the last line you saw the book begin to glow on the table, the runes shimmering with a gold light on the page before suddenly stopping. "What the..." you said to yourself, running your fingers across the page feeling a shock in your fingers making you pull your hand back. "Ooook, I think that's enough reading for tonight." You said, carefully closing the book you put you phone down as you stood up feeling light headed. "Time for bed." You said Turning the lights off you climbed under the covers. Knowing you had another training session with Loki tomorrow you closed your eyes, willing sleep to take you.

You rolled over, groaning as the blankets stuck to your damp skin. Looking at the clock seeing it was just past midnight you sighed. You put your hand on your forehead wiping the sweat away "why is it so hot in here?" You breathed, throwing the covers off you went to stand feeling your knees try to buckle. "I better not be getting sick" you said to yourself slowly making your way to the thermostat seeing it was still set at a cool sixty degrees. "What the hell." You turned on the ac, going back to bed you layed down, the cool sheets making you sigh as you closed your eyes trying to go back to sleep.

Images flashed in your mind. Long dark hair...deep green eyes that seemed to penatrate your soul...long fingers running up your thighs, moving up to slowly caress your clit..."Come to me darling...I need you." You heard furrowing your eyebrows feeling the fingers slide down towards your entrance. "Come....now!" The voice growled as the fingers pushed inside you waking you with a gasp. You shot up, looking around into the dark room seeing you were alone "Holy hell." You panted rubbing your eyes. You scooted forward feeling the wetness between your legs, your body covered in a sheen of sweat "maybe a shower will help." You sighed, scooting off the bed, the friction of your shorts against your core making moan as you braced the wall. "That must have been some dream." You thought making your way to the bathroom.

You turned on the cold water, stepping inside you let out a deep breath. You felt like your were burning from the inside out. You closed your eyes standing under the spray when the images returned. You hand slowly sliding down between your thighs, opening yourself up as you saw Loki...standing before you In nothing but his leather pants, slowly stalking towards you with a hunger in his eyes "come to me pet...I must have you." He purred, reaching out his large hand he wrapped it around your throat, his eyes boring into you. You worked your fingers through your folds, circling your clit feeling a shiver run through you as he leaned down, feeling his breath on your neck "I will give you pleasure as you have never known...all you must do is...come." He said sternly.

"L..loki..." you moaned, feeling your orgasm wash over you, pressing your thighs together at the feeling. You opened your eyes seeing the white tile wall "god...if only." You panted. You finished washing up, wrapping a towel around you you grabbed another tank top and clean shorts you sat on the bed, the pressure on your core making you moan. "What is happening?" You said to yourself shaking your head. You had dreamt of Loki before...numerous times but usually a little self care would sate your lust until the next dream, but now it only seemed to make things worse. You slipped your clothes on, feeling your body begin to heat up again, worse then before. "A...am I dying?" You said to yourself, gripping the side of the bed goaning as another wave of pleasure rolled over you.

Your eyes shot open remembering the book, the letters glowing as you read from it. "Oh shit...I cursed myself." You said rubbing your temples feeling sweat beading on your skin. "L...loki! I need to talk to loki, he'll...ahhh...know what to do." You moaned, slowly standing up feeling another wave push through you. Looking over seeing it was past two in the morning. "Well, I hope he's awake." You sighed, making your way to the door, nails digging into the handle as a another wave washed over you, your core feeling like it's om fire "I....ahh....better hurry." You moaned, quickly making your way to the elevator you pressed the button hard as the next wave hit you making you knees buckle. "Aahh fuck.." you moaned gripping the wall.

You made it to his floor, slowly walking out of the elevator you braced yourself on the wall, another hit you hard bringing you to your knees. "Holy shit..." you panted, standing up you felt the wetness between your thighs soaking your shorts. "L..loki..." you moaned making it to his door. You pressed your forehead to it, sighing as the cold wood met your hot skin. "Loki..." you breathed, knocking to be met with silence. Your thighs clenched together as you tried to knock again, still not getting a response you gripped the handle, turning it finding it unlocked. "Oh thank God." You sighed slowly pushing the door open.

You stepped inside, quietly closing the door looking around the dark room. Your body shivered as the scent of pine and sandalwood washed over you. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts "Lo..." you started, wincing feeling the skin under your ear burn, putting your hand over it feeling your skin hot to the touch. "Fuck.." you whispered looking back across the room, seeing the bedroom door slightly ajar. You walked towards it, you mind getting hazier the closer you got. "L..loki..." you whispered, slowly pushing the door open, the moonlight streaming through the window giving the room a soft glow when your eyes met his sleeping form, biting your lip seeing the sheet pooled around his hips, revealing his bare chest.

You opened your mouth trying to say his name, a moan coming out in its place as you gripped the door knob, leaning over as your head swam. Squeezing your thighs together you stood up, your vision hazy as you walked towards the bed, slowly making your way across the bed, running your fingers along the soft sheets looking down at him. You stood at the side of the large bed, his long hair splayed across the pillow making your hand twitch, you needed to touch it...now. You leaned down, slowly sliding back the sheets hearing him groan lightly as you climbed in next to him, carefully scooting towards him pressing your front to his side hearing him sigh.

You leaned up on your elbow, reaching your hand up you gently moved his hair exposing his long neck, smiling seeing a small freckle under his ear. You leaned down pressing a gentle kiss to it, his skin warm on your lips hearing him groan. You continued peppering small kisses to his neck as your hand slowly slid across his stomach, moaning as your fingers found the light patch of hair that traveled down. flattening your palm your hand slid down, feeling his muscles tense as your fingers grazed his adonis belt. "Loki.." you whispered against his skin as you went lower, your fingers running through the tuft of hair just above what you wanted most. "Y/n.." he moaned softly, freezing hearing him say your name, looking up seeing his eyes still closed.

Was he dreaming about you..you thought as your lips pressed back to his skin feeling his head turn slightly. Your pressed your thigh over his as your hand found what it was searching for, smiling feeling him hard as you slowly wrapped your fingers around him, groaning as you realized you couldn't get them all the way around him. "Mmm..god..." you moaned into his neck as you slowly moved your hand up and down, stoking him as you teeth grazed his skin. You groaned feeling him twitch in your hand as his hips rocked upwards meeting your strokes. "Mmm... I need you so bad." You whispered into his ear hearing his breath hitch.

You slowly rocked your hips against his thigh in rhythm with your hand. Tightening your grip you stoked him harder, your lips traveling to his collar bone as you squeezed your thigh against him, the friction on your clit sending electricity through you. "Y...y/n..." he groaned as your teeth grazed his collar bone. "Loki..." you breathed into his skin feeling him stiffen "w...what are you...ahhh...." he hissed grabbing your wrist stopping your movements. You looked up at him, his eyes wide as he stared at you "i...I need to feel you." You panted, releasing your grip on him you threw your leg over him, straddling his hips.

"Wait...y/n..." he trailed off trying to grab your hands as you tried to shift the sheet off of him. "P..please loki i...i need you." You panted, lifting your hips trying to get the sheet out from under you. "Y/n...stop this at once." He demanded as you looked into his eyes, a shudder running through you "i..I cant.." you whispered, leaning back you reached for the sheets again "Y/n...wait..." he said as you felt another wave slam into you, bracing yourself on his chest you rocked your hips against his erection, moaning at the friction when he suddenly bucked his hips, flipping you onto your back as he settled over you, pinning your wrists above your head in one large hand. He took in your appearance, seeing the sweat beading on your skin, your skin like fire under his hands. "What are you doing y/n?" He asked sternly as you dug your nails into your palm "i..need you." You whispered.

"You are not yourself, What did you do?" Loki asked sternly eyeing you. "Nothing! I just....please...." you pleaded, bringing your hips up as he pushed them back down with his other hand. "Y/n, I will not ask again, what..." he started as his eyes went to your neck, reaching up he grabbed your chin turning your head "all I did was borrow a few books while you were gone." You said shakely, feeling sweat pooling on your skin as his eyes met yours again "which books?" He asked still gripping your chin. "I..I don't know i..." you started "Dammit woman, which ones did you take?" He yelled making you shiver "i..I don't know the title...I just t..translated a page." You said shakely feeling your eyes burn. "P..please loki...I feel like I'm dying." You said feeling a tear escape your eye, traveling to your hair as he turned your head back.

He released your chin, his fingers ghosted over the skin of your neck, moaning when he touched where it burned the most, your thighs gripping his sides feeling another wave of arousal wash over you, your walls clenching around nothing. "Hearts desire..." he whispered splaying his large hand against your neck. "It appears you borrowed one of my spell books and...enchanted yourself." He said as his eyes met yours again. "A..m i...am I dying?" You whimpered feeling another tear fall as he wiped it away with his thumb "no my dear, you are not dying, not yet anyway" He said "but, your condition will worsen until you body becomes too hot and starts to shut down." He said feeling your forehead "how long ago did this happen?" He asked "a..a few hours or so." You said as he nodded. "H..how do I make it s..stop?" You asked shakely as he looked down "the only way to cure Hearts Desire is to become one with the one you...love." he whispered as your eyes widened.

A sob escaped you as he released your hands, leaning back slightly watching you "i...im s...sorry loki, I...I didn't want you to find out like this, or ever. i..." you cried, covering your face with your hands "I'm s...sorry." you said again as you shifted, trying to get out from under him when he grabbed your hips. "Where are you going?" He asked making you look at him "i...I've ruined everything with my stupidity and...." you rambled, feeling his finger prsss to your lips, it taking all your will power not to wrap your lips around it. "You need to calm down darling, your getting warmer." He said shifting closer to you "did you not hear me, your condition will worsen." He said sternly "i am going to help you." He said cupping your cheek "n..no! You don't have to do that, i..I'll just..." you trailed off "pleasure yourself? It will only make it worse." He said, gripping the sheets as you felt another roll through you, your nerve endings igniting making you whimper.

"Those sounds...you have no idea what you do to me my little witch." He groaned, pressing his hips to yours, feeling his erection rub against your clit "g..god....loki...." you moaned wrapping your arms around his back. "Let me take care of you." He whispered, leaning down pressing a kiss to your neck making your hips jerk. "I can smell you..." he groaned, rocking his hips into you as he leaned back, hooking his fingers under the band of your shorts, slowly sliding them down your legs "no panties hmm?" He purred, tossing them across the room. "I...they were dirty." You stuttered as he lowered himself back between your spread legs. "Oh, im sure they were my little vixen." He smiled, leaning down pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

You moaned feeling his hand slide up your thigh, slipping between you as his teeth grazed the top of your breast "mmm....you are soaking darling." He said, his long fingers gliding through your folds making you arch up into him. "P...please Loki...." you panted, screwing your eyes shut. You felt him shift, pulling the sheet from between you as his cock pressing into your thigh, precum smearing across your skin as he lined himself at your entrance "open those eyes for me, I want to see you as I take you." He growled. You opened your eyes, looking down seeing his cock begin to push into you. "Look at me." He said, as your eyes shot up to his "så vakker.." he whispered, pressing his hips forward, your nails digging into his back as he inched inside you, stretching you to your limit.

"Norns! Your so...warm, so...aahhh tight." He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as he jerked his hips forward, knocking the wind out of you as he bottomed out. "Holy...fuck..." you panted, spreading your legs further apart as he pulled out to his tip, thrusting back in. You felt your body tingle as he slowly rocked in and out, keeping his pace slow. "L..loki....harder....fuck me....harder." you growled, sliding your hands down to his ass pulling him into you. "A...as you...mmm...wish." He growled, pulling out as he slammed into you, jolting you up the bed "oh fuck...yes..." you yelled, burying your face in his neck biting the skin under his ear hearing him growl.

"F...fuck....I can feel you...ahh squeezing me darling." He panted, snapping his hips hard, his pelvic bone hitting your clit with each thrust making your cry out. "I..I'm gonna..." you breathed, digging your nails into his cheeks as he pushed you up the bed. "Mm...min lille heks...ahhh...hvor jeg har lengtet etter deg." He said, slipping into his native tongue making you shudder. "kom for meg ... melk kuken min." He growled, slamming into you hard, your head hitting the headboard as your orgasm flooded over you, your walls clenching hard around him "c..come with me loki...fuck...let me feel you." You panted, feeling him twitch inside you as his hips met yours, holding himself in you as he spilled deep inside you. "Fuck...y/n J...Jeg elsker deg." He panted, dropping his head to your shoulder, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

He slowly pulled out, shifting to lay next to you as you stared at the ceiling. You pulled the sheet up covering yourself feeling your skin start to cool off, your mind clearing as you glanced over, seeing his eyes closed. You looked back to the ceiling, a knot forming in your stomach as you thought about what just happened. "Your thinking too loudly." He said making you look over at him, your eyes meeting his. "Im...I'm sorry Loki, about all of this." You said, pulling the sheet back starting to get up when you felt his hand on your shoulder pushing you back down as he leaned up on his elbow looking down at you

He reached up feeling your forehead smiling "how are you feeling my dear?" He asked tucking your hair behind your ear "b..better." you said looking down. "Is it true?" He asked, his eyes staring into you "umm..i...well you see..." you tried, looking back to the ceiling, feeling his fingers genlty grab your chin making you look at him. "Yes loki, it's true." You said gripping the sheet. He leaned down gently pressing his lips to yours, his tongue slowly sliding across your bottom lip. A warmth filled you, your toes curling feeling his tongue gently pass your lips, cupping your cheek as his tongue tangled with yours, his lips impossibly soft against your own as he claimed your mouth, biting your lip as he pulled back looking at. "Be mine y/n." He breathed, pressing his forehead to yours "i..what?" You asked tilting your head up "I have wanted you for so long, i would like to court you." He said smiling "y..yes Loki, I would like that very much." You smiled back as he pulled you towards him, laying on his back guiding your head to his shoulder "get some rest my dear, we can talk more tomorrow." He said running his fingers through your hair as you wrapped your arm around his middle "and y/n...no more books." He said making you laugh "ok, no more books." You agreed, closing your eyes slipping off to sleep listening to the steady beat of his heart....

Translations-

hvor jeg har lengtet etter deg-how i have longed for you

min lille heks-my little witch

Jeg elsker deg-i love you

kom for meg ... melk kuken min-come for me...milk my cock

så vakker-so beautiful

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @springdandelixn @kinky-faerie @xorpsbane @midnights-ramblings @simping-for-marvel @holdmytesseract @kkdvkyya @slpnbty2001 @lokixryss @vane28282 @violethaze @coldnique @aniar4wniak @nate-ate-hate @buttercupcookies-blog @brattymum96 @dukes2581 @your-taste-on-my-lips @mybaby @blog-the-lilly @irishhappiness @sinsandguilt @filthyhiddles @lovebyloki @kikster606 @javagirl328 @misunderstoodself @highkeysimpingforloki @eleniblue @commanding-officer @athalialaufeyson @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokiandbuckysdoll @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @high-functioning-lokipath @kittiowolf210 @slytherclaw1227 @joyfullymassivewhispers @wolfsmom1 @libbybeaz @lokikissesmyforehead @goblingirlsarah @thomase1

5K notes · View notes

fortheb0ys · 3 months

Text

FUCK ME LIKE THE MEN BETWEEN THOSE PAGES

Bottom John Price x Top Male Reader

Just Price brain rot🤤 I've always wanted to a model for MLM porn sites ngl so I'm living through this fic🙏 As usual not proofread :)

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

Prices would be one of those faceless models for those erotic gay romance novels. All his work would be faceless. Just something he did to make money on the side.

It was a secret that was long forgotten. Memories replaced by his military service. His body more scarred than his younger self's. His own books but they were just collecting dust in a box.

When you got together, you had found one of the books Price had forgotten that was on a shelf. Your eyes grew wide as you noiced it was Price's shirtless body on the front cover. A small mole on his left hip was telltale that it was him.

Flipping the book over and reading the synopsis reveals the dirty content of it. All the colour washes from Price's face as he sees what you have in your hand.

Price was about to open his mouth to quickly deny it but saw your giddy excitement. Though Price felt a bit shameful, he told you that there was more. A lot more.

With much hesitation from him and a whole lot more convincing from you, Price lent you the books. His amazing body on every single one of them. A new scar here and there as the

He had been surprised that you never poked fun at him and that you were genuinely interested in his past works.

You'd admit that the sex scenes depicted were the main thing that got you interested. You'd imagine Price vividly as the characters he model on the front covers. It didn't take long for you to read through the lot of them.

When Price would be on deployment, he'd get a text from you.

Cum on the front cover or on the pages. Or others with your erect cock slotted like a bookmark between the pages with the dirtiest scenes, precum dripping onto the sheets.

You'd send worded texts underneath the photo like "Try these with me?" or "What if were we the ones to do this?"

Price hated himself for showing you the books right before the mission, making the wait painfully long.

Sexualy frustrated and slightly pissed he had to wait for his deployment to end, Price would have a lonely wank in his barracks. His fingers didn't feel right. His fantasies never felt like details in the books. Nothing felt like you.

Once he got back, Price had to fight back a boner as the anticipation took over him. He went through countless cigars trying to get his mind on something else. The 141 Boys knew something was up. Soap had to control the intrusive thoughts to ask if you were waiting naked when Price returned home.

Which he wasn't wrong. The moment Price came through that door he was already painfully hard. Before he could even open his mouth to greet you, you were on him like a fly to honey, attacking his neck with bruising kisses. Whispering the dirty dialog from one of the books made Price weak in the knees.

Thus was the beginning of your roleplay sex.

Your playtime is always different. Numerous scenarios with one thing in common: Mind blowing sex.

Price would play a royal guard, and you, the prince. A prince in a loveless engagement to a princess. A guard pleading loyalty as he rides the prince on the royal throne.

A grade slipping college student fucking his teacher in an empty classroom for extra credit. Blowjows underneath desks replaces the outdated method of study and paying attention to lectures.

A hunter who falls in love with a werewolf he's supposed to kill. The wolf is just a dumb puppy who needs to be told what to do. With a collar around his neck, ready to be tugged at and the willingness to please his master, puppy soon becomes skilled at lapping at master's hole.

A rowdy rockstar and his stressed out manager. The musician needing to burn off the adrenaline after the show and the poor management needing the stress fucked out of him. The real show was played backstage. The manager put on quite the proformance, his deep moans sounded much better than your singing.

A sex therapist that prefers to take on a more hands-on approach. That skilled tongue was used more than just giving advice.

Or lastly, a priest beguiled by a gorgeous sinner. Guilt was all he felt but it felt like true heaven. God would forgive any sin if he showed true repentance, right? Wouldn't Jesus have died for nothing if we didn't sin?

Sure, some where terrible written and some were written by women with a fetish for gay men. Seeing you act out the scenes without missing a beat or breaking out into laughter while you quoted the dirtiest and most ridiculous things.

You'd remember every dirty word uttered. Every scenario memorized. Price was starting to understand what those white women on TikTok saw in those fucking books. It was just too bad they couldn't live it out like he could.

#call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #x reader #x male reader #john price x reader #john price x male reader #sub character #dom male reader #dom reader #cod x male reader #cod x reader #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mw3

1K notes · View notes

fufuheheii · 2 years

Text

Cyno’s Ultimate Guide to Wooing You (tips from Tighnari)

Edit: Cyno x female!reader

You and Cyno have been friends for a very long time.

That’s why the boy never expected that he would develop feelings out of nowhere, especially not right when you smash an Ajilenakh nut with his pole arm in anger.

He could have sworn his heart went doki doki along with the broken nut.

“You have got to be kidding me,” was all Tighnari could say when Cyno approached him on the very same day with the biggest blush ever.

“She was glowing Tighnari,” Cyno furrowed his eyebrows as he looked off into the distance. “The Love Archon have placed a curse on me-“ “there is no love archon you lummox.”

After a long ass debate and Cyno listing down pros and cons of liking you, the fennec boy decided this topic went on long enough and decided to just throw some suggestions.

“Why not just ask her out on a date? Woo her with something. If I recall, Y/N said she liked charcoal cake.”

And that’s how The Guide to Wooing You (Ft. Tighnari) book was created.

First Operation: date

Now, you and Cyno have been friends for a very long time, meaning you’ve done much activities together.

When Cyno asked you out, you took it as an average hangout and the day turned into a whole TCG war.

Cyno has no idea how you guys ended up in Port Ormos, both of your decks out with his strongest cards in his hand. People surround you two, all in awe at the amazing strategic display in front of them. No, to say he is confused is an understatement.

“Wait Y/N-“ “No I’m not falling for that again Cyno.” “No, we weren't supposed to be playing.” “Wow I can’t believe you just threw that card out, how am I supposed to win that?” “Wait that was unintentional-“

He never got to confess. But at least he won the game.

Second Operation: food

On the day he was free he barged into the Sumeru tavern, causing a few scholar to run out screaming as he approached the counter with menacing aura.

“One charcoal cake. Do you have a pink ribbon? Wrap it with a pink ribbon. Maybe add a heart on the cake if possible. Write the name ‘Y/N’ on it. I expect no word comes out about me here.”

When you see it, you roar with laughter. “Bruh, this is the funniest thing you pulled so far!”

Tighnari gets no sleep that night as Cyno comes into his room and murmurs by himself in the corner, confused as to what exactly is he doing wrong.

Third Operation: physical contact

Cyno wipes his hand on his shorts for the 15th time as he awaits for you at Gandarvha Ville. Today was the day of his next operation: hand holding.

Cyno wasn’t the type to force any physical contact, unless it’s to punish all evil wrongdoing. But today he was going to go the opposite way.

He will brush his hand against yours, and if you don’t move away he will then proceed to look into your eyes as a sign of love affirmation. You will be struck by his determination and then he will move to intertwine his fingers with yours. And then he will confess.

“Hey Cyno! You’re here early,” you appear in your goddess glory, your smile so dazzling the Mahamatra has to block it out with his hand.

“What a sight to behold.” “Did you say something?”

When you two walked together, people were clearing the path. You figured it was because of Cyno’s title, but in reality it was because of his red shot eyes that was glaring at your hand.

Above you both is Tighnari using his binoculars to watch you both. He mutters curses specially at the Matra, and Cyno could’ve sworn he felt chills go down his spine for no reason.

Do it now you imbecile! Touch her hand! What in the archons are you doing?

Cyno’s heart was thumping so fast he thought you could hear it. He swallowed as he stared at your hand, the delicate fingers that was tempting him to lic-hold it.

“Cyno?” He snapped his attention to your worried face. He inhaled when you step so close to him that your faces were mere inches away.

Tighnari gasped. Are you guys kissing? Why the hell are you guys kissing first?

“Are you okay? You look really stressed,” Your eyebrows furrow together, your cheeks pouting out so slightly.

Your magnificent breath tickled his face, your doe eyes peering into his wide dilated ones. He could smell the faint chicken wings you ate earlier on your body. He could see your collar bones just saying hello to him. Your hair tickle his face as well as his bangs to yours. He looks back up to your eyes and he finally utters his response.

“Stressed? More like I’m a damsel in distress.”

Tighnari to this day doesn’t know how that was a joke to Cyno.

Operation four: Just confess

“Now we all know you have this natural instinct of throwing in a stupid joke out of nowhere,” Tighnari covers Cyno’s mouth before he could retort. “Now imagine I am Y/N. Show me how you’re going to confess to me.”

“No what the f-” “Do you really want to ruin the biggest operation with another joke?” “…”

Cyno sighs and the two boys sit facing each other. Tighnari crosses his arms and mimics your voice in a ridiculously high tone, “Hey Cyno! What’s up?”

“Hey Y/N, um…there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you,” Cyno inhales, trying to pretend the boy in front of him was his favorite girl. He smiles when his decent looking friend’s face morphs into your beautiful features. “We’ve been friends for so long and I know it’s definitely hard to believe but…I really like you. To me, you’re the most beautiful star in the desert night, the star that guides me to my destination. Will you be mine?”

“Wow Cyno I’m so happy!” Tighnari sings happily with a horrifying giggle. “See, that wasn’t so bad-”

A big thud silences them all.

The two boys slowly look to the side in horror as both you and Collei stand at the doorway stunned. Collie’s basket is on the floor, and an apple rolls to Cynos’ foot.

“I always knew master and Cyno had something!” Collei runs out the door, covering her face in glee as her OTP has finally come true.

Cyno’s face pales as you blink at him and then at Tighnari and then back to him. Then you turn away quickly before they can hear you snort with laughter.

General Mahamatra and General Watchleader weren’t seen for a few days, but there were rumors circulating that the WatchLeader was trying to kill the Mahamatra.

Final operation: Cyno

“Just be yourself Cyno,” Tigh’s words repeat in the boy’s mind. “What do you think will get your feelings across as Cyno? Think about it, and then face Y/N when you’re ready.”

Truth to be told, Cyno has never been open about his own feelings to anyone before. Sure, he told his best (and only) friend that he likes you, sure he beat up sinners to express his irritation of them forcing him out into the desert for three days just to bring them back, but it’s different with you.

He enjoyed all the times he’s had with you, all the moments where you and him argued about who won, the moments where you fed him food when he was loaded with work, the moments when you smiled at him when he would come to see you...he treasured every single second.

He was scared that if you did not return his feelings, your friendship would be broken. You meant that much to him.

But he knew if this one-sided feeling went on much longer he will go crazy and full of hope. He can decide how to proceed with his feelings once he gets an answer from you.

You finally appear. You look around the rather grassy area, before looking up at the night sky full of stars.

Cyno watches with adoration as your eyes light up at the sky. It must be the same look he has when he’s with you.

He silently approaches you with a familiar book in his hand, and you finally see him.

He hands you the book and you blink at it curiously before you open the book and read the contents.

He slowly smiles as a blush spread across your cheeks as you read over each operation listed down and the attempts the poor boy made to gain your affection.

“How did I miss all this?” You whisper, bringing the back of your hand to your face as your ears burn. “Cyno I...”

He places a hand on your arm and comes forward. His eyes are so full of desperation you can already hear what’s he going to say.

“I’m not supposed to be…having these feelings as a Matra. It’ll only get in the way, but...I do have feelings for you Y/N. I enjoy my time with you, I enjoy eating with you. I enjoy fighting with you. I like you. I am in love with you. Will you be the padisarah to my Duel Soul recipe?”

A few days later rumors go around that the General Mahamatra has been stalking a certain girl and the girl is a criminal waiting to be caught in the act.

It’s only a few days later (again) that there is confirmation that the girl is actually the General Mahamatra’s beloved girlfriend.

Omg this was so bad but so funny at the same time aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Sorry if this seemed so rushed, but it came to me in the middle of the night, and I had to write it all down! Hope you guys enjoyed it! :,)

Edit: whoa thanks for the love guys! Can’t believe this got so much attention, I’m happy I managed to give some laughs!

#genshin #cyno #cyno x reader #cyno x y/n #tighnari #Tighnari is so tired of Cyno #Collei doesn't know her ship has sunk #cyno fluff #genshin impact #Collei

6K notes · View notes

yawneon · 3 months

Note

percy will a s/o that’s always sleeping🫶

BLUE - NOISE

a/n : this is so bad 😭😭😭

pairing : in love!percy jackson x hermes kid!reader

summary : in which percy jackson has his best birthday yet.

!!! : praying for more reqs, this one is so cute, i try my best 😞, maybe the plot was the friends we made along the way, unspecified demigod reader, book percy, ooc camp, i wanted it to be rainy in camp so ITS GOINF TO RAIN 🤬, the curse of never being able to write alot returns, THIS IS SO BAD

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

people at camp could’ve sworn there had been a mix up in olympus.

you. an hermes child? what a laugh.

you had to be a kid of hypnos. you slept so much, how couldn’t you? genuinely you couldn’t peel yourself off your bed like ever. everyone in camp knew, you were the person in cabin 11 that won’t get out bed if not needed. alcoholics had alcohol, gamblers had casinos but you… you had something far more worse.

you had the (in your humble opinion) the most comfortable bed in all of camp. sure, it wasn’t a 5 star hotel quality but shit was it good.

and more importantly it was the beds fault that you were oh so tired all the time and you just needed to sleep more than half the day.

everyone else couldn’t care less.. your siblings would just give you a small glance before ignoring you because honestly it was more surprising to see you awake! and trust me when you started dating percy.. did this get worse.

whatever you thought about having the best bed in camp was trampled on and thrown over a cliff edge the moment you laid in percy’s bed.

not only was his bed adorned with comfortable sheets and pillows his cabin was quiet.

percy didn’t understand however.

how on earth could you sleep when you have the most handsome and amazing boyfriend in all of the whole universe??

he has whined and frowned at you multiple times but you’ve slickly avoided his dramatics by lathering him up with sweet and sappy comments like “im dreaming of you~” that make annabeth and grover cringe at when he goes and boasts to them.

but today,

today you couldn’t avoid the dread of getting out of bed.

you stood at the foot of his bed holding a plate of waffles, blue ones. it was far too early for you, (it was 8am) but it was percy’s birthday. you weren’t going to neglect your boyfriend because gods you would never hear the end of it. so you decided to go against your force of nature and got up to whip up a batch of waffles for him.

despite it being the midst of summer rain pelted down against the hard exterior of cabin 3. it didn’t rain usually in camp, the rain would usually just pass right by but maybe the gods were arguing again and the storm was especially hard this day.

sluggishly you drag your feet to stand beside the bed in which percy sleeping.

you wished that was you.

the plate adorning the blue waffles are set down on his bedside table and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder shaking him. despite your (sucky) efforts he doesn’t stir awake.

you grab his arm now with both hands and you shake him harder than before and finally does he grumble awake.

he looks up at you, confused.

“happy birthday, idiot” you pick up and hold the plate of waffles up so he could see them a tired but sweet look on your face. he sits up on his elbows and a dopey smile appears on his face, a very common smile he shines when he looks at you.

“this all for me?” percy sits up fully now taking the plate from you and he smiles bigger now gaining his full conscious. he pats the empty side of the bed next to him and you basically throw yourself into the white sheets.

despite the innate need to sink further in and take ahold of the sleep thats so desperately trying to drag you down you sit up and watch him. “you’re up, today.” percy teases, his shoulder nudging yours.

“just shut up and eat your breakfast.” you laugh softly amused by his jokes.

he begins gobbling the waffles down, scoffing down the cream on top and cleaning the plate of any remains of food. it was actually very impressive how well he ate all of it.

percy’s eyes trail to the window of his cabin his eyes watching as the raindrops pelt down at the glass and the sound of the rain hitting the walls and roof echo loudly.

percy places the plate back onto the bedside and looks out the window. “say aye if your in to stay home all day?” he peeks at you, another dopey smile that you just couldn’t resist is painted on his face.

you didn’t even reply to him, your arm snakes around his collarbone and you basically slump him into bed. you both lay on your back and then percy starts talking.

he always did this. percy would talk and talk and talk while you laid next to him, even if you were asleep he would keep going. just the feeling of having you next to him was comfortable so he would talk about all different kinds of things and today wasn’t any different.

you however wanted to listen to him today but oh geez was it hard.

again it wasn’t your fault that his voice was smooth and calming to listen to even of he was talking about how he fell one time and scraped his knee when he was 7. it was like ypur white noise. you already slept a fuck-ton and having a boyfriend with the most sweetest voice was not helping you.

he held your hand as he laid next to you, his eyes tracing every detail of the ceiling as his fingers dance along your palm. he starts telling you all about how his first quest went. a story you’ve heard over.. and over and over again.

“when i started my quest..” blah blah blah.

your eyes shut and all you could focus on was his voice and the noise of water hitting the window panes. his hand was warm in yours and with his free hand percy pulls the covers over the both of you so only your heads were poking out. he slips his arm under your head and his other hand grabs yours again as he keeps rambling on.

before you could fully drift off you turn into him, you could feel his eyes on you as he watches you shift and his words pause for a moment.

“i love you.” he whispers, hoping that you were asleep. you smile into his skin, a clear sign you were still all there.

“i love you too, happy birthday percy.” you half open your eyes you pull his face down by grabbing his cheeks and you kiss under his eye before moving back down.

percy flashes his signature smile before his story changes from his quest to tell you about how on his 9th birthday his mom baked him a blue cake and how it was awesome. you make a mental note to yourself before drifitng off.

you dreamt of percy that night.

let me rephrase that.

you dream of percy.

you dream of him even though he is yours.

his pretty green eyes, his black hair, his sandy skin on the beach. but more often than not you dream of him like how you are now.

cuddled up beside you, warm under the covers as he tells you about all kinds of things like how he thinks the universe was made.

you dream about him dreaming of you which you know he does (since he tells you).

you dream about the way he wants you despite your sleeping routines, you dream about the way he calls you his sleeping beauty.

yet all those dreams are the reality you live. maybe missing a few hours off of slumber isn’t all that bad when your spending it with the boy you see when you close your eyes.

@yawneon

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #percy is cute #i love him

419 notes · View notes

lady-ashfade · 3 months

Text

Blood And Pressure

Part two

Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapter: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really.Just that they are older teens.

-♡ I will be imagining Charlie Bushnell as Luke.

-♡warning : short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking. slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

This was the best moment of your life. The camp was beautiful. You got to see real people training together, not just the ones that come into the infirmary. And Percy was just as amazed as you. It was cool to see someone your own age being new to camp, and that you could use him to get yourself out of that damn house.

Percy made you smile with his small jokes and comments about the place. Which caused Chiron to look between you two without you knowing. You never looked so happy.

“There is a place for you,” chiron points to one of the cabins. A flag hanging from the roof was Hermes and you smile, they welcomed everyone. Many kids ended up in the infirmary after their pranks and you loved to hear the stories.

Percy was to go into the cabin and start his new life while you had to watch and then go back. Of course you were happy for him to have a place. But it would go back to being alone.

“What about y/n?” Percy turned to you with a brow raised. “Don’t you have a cabin?” Before you could answer, the centaur answered for you.

“She is not a Demigod,” he moved his hooves closer and puts a hand on your shoulder. You sigh and nod, “she stays with us. Now say your goodbyes.”

Pushing everything you felt back you mange to give the boy a big smile, “good luck Percy.” And his name in your mouth lift him smitten along with your smile.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why you were here to just stay in the big house. This was a camp for half-bloods and you weren’t one…he wasn’t sure what you were. So why keep you locked up?

“I think y/n should see the inside.” He turn his gaze to the larger man. You could see the mischief on his face.

“I mean, you said you’d give them a tour and haven’t showed them what the insides look like? I think you should keep to your word.”

You cover your mouth with a giggle and he finds himself taking another glance at you with growing pride. However Chiron wasn’t as happy about this because he wanted to get you home and away from everyone…just like the oracle said to.

“I agree, now if you’ll excuse us.” You turn your head and grab ahold of Percy’s hand and start to walk to the cabin door. You had a mission to see everything that you could!

Percy turned brighter by each second and followed you with a clouded head. He stares at the way your hand felt on his. Maybe he could find a way to keep you with him at all time. His chest filled with butterflies and he couldn’t help but to squeeze your hand back as you pull him along.

The cabin was full of campers and bunks crowded around everywhere. You didn’t know what you were expecting but this wasn’t it. I mean the cabin should have been much bigger with the amount of kids that came in, even Hermes had many kids. Just for a second you felt out of place until your eyes set upon another…ones you have looked into before.

Eyes that looked at you many times, the only boy you had a conversation with before. With a scar running across his cheek.

“Well, aren’t we lucky.” The boy stepped closer to you both. His lips curled into a smirk as everyone else the cabin turn to look at you both. The mystery girl and the new boy who took down a minotaur. A odd pair to be seen together.

Percy tightened his hold on your hand at the way he was looking into your eyes and inching closer. Who was this guy? If only he could throw his arm around you to show he already had his claim.

“Luke Castellan.” The slightly taller boy introduced himself. His eyes looked away from you and he was met with percy harsh gaze. The only one now to stop the contest they seemed to have was Chiron who walked behind you.

Camp seemed to get more interesting by the second.

Taglist: @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @alliriseabove

#Luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere Luke castellan x reader #yandere percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #yandere Percy Jackson x reader #yandere annabeth chase #annabeth chase x reader #book percy jackson #older percy jackson #shadow and bone reader #heartrender reader #grover underwood x reader #yandere Grover underwood x reader #yandere grover underwood #yandere annabeth chase x reader

380 notes · View notes

thats-godscomma · 8 months

Text

Since rewatching Psych, I've been thinking about how weird and arbitrary Shawn's interests are. Sure, late 2000's writing had something to do with it, and maybe a bit of Henry and Gus's influence, but hearing Shawn be so vocal about how he hates certain popular things or (more importantly) refuses to give them a chance BUT at the same time knowing so many pop culture references, it got me thinking.

What if the reason Shawn has so many pop culture references on hand is because of his eidetic memory, and he doesn't actually have as much of an interest in pop culture? Throughout the show, he actively avoids getting roped into big interests and franchises (see: comic books, soap operas, etc.) despite the fact that he genuinely seems excited once he's part of it. In fact, we don't get to see a lot of Shawn's interests at all unless it's based on an idea.

Take being a bounty hunter, for example. According to him, he's obsessed with the idea, but he doesn't make many references to an actual bounty hunter show or franchise. Instead, he just remembers the one bounty hunter he saw as a child and maybe references a movie or two. Because once he remembers something, he's never going to forget it, or at least not for a very long time.

That's why he thinks in references. Everything is a reference if you have a good enough memory. Everything reminds you of something. If Shawn hears someone make a Spock reference, it's in his repertoire forever. But he wouldn't be caught dead watching the shows or movies because that's just too much information. Why on earth would he endure that?

Of course, it also intertwines with his ADHD. He has bouts of energy and trouble focusing. He can't sit still to save his life, and he hyperfixates...or he would if his memory didn't make him averse to it. So if he doesn't want to hyperfixate on an information-based interest, then what does he hyperfixate on? Physical activities. Instead of learning about his favorite daredevil, he tries to be one himself. When he learns about oil rigs, he doesn't get a book from the library. He tries to find oil in his backyard.

This is also where he and Henry differ regarding Shawn's "potential." Henry is correct when he talks about Shawn's "wasted" potential, but he doesn't understand the toil of having this eidetic memory and ADHD. Here's what I think happened: Henry probably noticed Shawn's stellar memory at a young age, realized he has a gift, spoke with his wife about her eidetic memory, learned that you need to challenge your child's eidetic memory at a young age or it'll go away, started the hat game to make it fun and exciting, but then Shawn's ADHD appeared. Suddenly, it made him much harder to raise (because let's be real, Shawn was not an easy child.) Henry didn't know what he was doing anymore, and since it was the 80's, he didn't have the resources to properly understand his kid's behavior, so he tried to find a common interest, and started training Shawn to be a detective "because kids love cop shows." But Shawn struggled to stay attached to one single interest, and when he grew up, he stopped trying to articulate his problems because his mom (the only person who remotely understood his struggles) left, and he blamed his dad for it.

And academics? Those are a joke because what is the point of studying if he already remembers everything? Until, of course, he needs to apply it to a problem-solving test or writing an essay. Suddenly, he's memorizing a math teacher's answer sheet and copying Gus's report.

Yes, Shawn could have been a great cop. He could be an amazing scientist or anything really. He could have been a national spelling bee champion like Gus wanted to be. Even 15 years later, Shawn remembered exactly what word Gus messed up, how to spell the word, and what letter he made Gus slip up, but he didn't want to be on that stage with Gus because that requires so much learning. And so much time. And so much memorizing. And he refuses to sit still for that long when he knows that overloading his head is going to give him migraines.

Also his "I've heard it both ways" probably comes from the fact that people with eidetic memory can still make lots of mistakes if they don't actively commit something to memory. If Shawn only overhears something, he'll still naturally try to fill in the gaps like everyone else, but because he's so confident in his memory, he just believes what he remembers to be true, leading him to repeat incorrect information with confidence. That could also be why some of his references are incorrect due to mixed-up homophones.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about how Shawn is just a walking movie reference because his memory won't let him forget quotes, but then I fell into a rabbit hole of the negative effects of having an eidetic memory as a child, and I am very passionate about how Henry actually tried his best, and people need to stop calling him a horrible parent. Love y'all. Let me know what you think.

#i just care a lot about the real-life consequences of having an eidetic memory combined with ADHD #psych #psych tv #psych usa #shawn spencer #henry spencer #burton guster #eidetic memory #long post

979 notes · View notes

creedslove · 9 months

Text

WHO KNEW? 💍💔

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

"You took my hand, you showed me how

You promised me you'd be around (...)

I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me (...)

If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, 'cause they're all wrong

I know better, 'cause you said forever, and ever, who knew?"

Summary: You and Joel had been married for a few months when he broke things up with you because he'd fallen in love with someone else, Sarah's mom. You parted ways but more than a decade later you end up meeting Sarah and that leads you to face your ex-husband one more time

• Inspired by this amazing HEADCANON request ❤️

Warnings: angst, broken hearts, asshole!Joel, divorce, infidelity, pregnancy, fluff (a little, maybe?) age gap (Joel is four to five years older than reader and the time skip is 12 to 14 years (Sarah's age) but feel free to imagine whatever you want)

A/N: Hi guys!!! I got obsessed with this story ever since I received that ask and turned into a headcanon but it wasn't enough, I had to write a longer, fuller version of this story! I think it's so appealing because we are all used to Joel being our knight in shining armor, always the perfect husband/boyfriend and well, here we can see another part of him. It's not a crime to fall in love with someone else, but the way he broke reader's heart was very mean. Also, I didn't specify reader's profession, just keep in mind she studied A LOT and now she makes good money, but feel free to idealize her job the way you want. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, besties ❤️

10.6k words

You never really understood why some people told you getting married so young would be a mistake. It didn't make sense to you, at all. You and your soon-to-be husband Joel, were young, yes, but you loved each other deeply. You figured it didn't take much more than that to make a happy marriage.

You were fresh from highschool, always had good grades and it didn't take long for you to be accepted in many different institutions, and yet, you decided it would be a good idea to take a sabbatical year in order to get yourself sorted out, maybe get a job and save up some money and enjoy your marriage a little. Joel was very supportive of you, even if he knew you would eventually leave for college and you would both have to make it work long distance.

Joel was just a couple of years older, he'd just left the military and he also needed to know what to do in life, in order to support his wife, he didn't have the book smarts his girl did, but he was kind-hearted and hard-working. He also hadn't planned on getting married that young, but before he could even try to make any sense out of it, he was deeply in love with you.

So Joel proposed, you said yes, his dad helped him get a small, but cute house and the two of you started your new wed life.

For the first few months, everything was a bed of roses; you were so in love, that man was simply intoxicating. His touches, his kisses, his body, his smell, everything about him was addictive to you and you couldn't be without it.

You had found yourself a part time job as a sales clerk at a baby clothes store at the mall, just as Joel was working as an apprentice in the construction business, it was a very hard job, and just in a matter of a couple of months, you saw your boyfriend becoming bigger and more muscular. He worked hard for you, for your relationship, your marriage and the future family you would build in a couple of years. Even if your friends had told you it was madness getting married so young and your family had asked you not to do it, everything was just fine, what could go wrong?

Every single day, Joel would come back home, tired from work, and he would be welcomed by you in your fullest housewife version. Dinner all ready, house spotless clean and a loving wife dying to be in his arms. He would not disappoint you, taking you into his arms, lifting you up, pressing you against the wall, his kisses were so urgent, so needy of you, his hands roamed all over your body as you felt his cock throbbing. Every night next to your handsome husband Joel was a delight, it was your personal piece of heaven, nothing could stop the two of you when you were together, but eventually, it happened.

You didn't know exactly how it started, or when for that matter, it was all a thick fog in your mind, being unable to say precisely when your marriage began falling apart. Perhaps it happened sooner than you thought but you were just too naive or too blind to see; first thing you noticed, were the kisses; they were gone. No kissing before going to work in the morning but you shrugged it off, thinking that maybe Joel was just in a rush to get to work. Though you really missed them, your skin seemed to burn and ache for his touch, you didn't want to seem like a clingy wife, or nag him with unimportant things. Whenever he came back from work, he was still all yours; that's why it took you long enough to notice it.

Every evening, he came back with the same hunger he felt, only this time, he didn't seem to have felt that hunger for you per se, more like a desire within that needed to have you to help him relieve it.

He took you every single night, he gave you pleasure, simple, raw, indifferent pleasure. You didn't actually remember the last time you actually made love, because everytime Joel touched you, he always had you on your hands and knees for him, always fucking you on your back. At the time you thought it was just some kink or something like that, but now it was pretty clear to you it was just the easiest way for Joel to close his eyes and pretend you were someone else.

It was just simply fucking, a means to get to an end.

Then, he began getting home later and later, sometimes he would be too late for dinner, or he would just skip it entirely. Never explaining exactly what he was doing or why he was spending less and less time at home.

"Sorry babe, just had a sandwich with the guys"

That's what he would say before shrugging and going straight to the bedroom; not taking his time to actually see you'd cooked his favorite or that you were starving because you'd waited for him until that hour. The weekends weren't different at all, at first, right after you two got married, you'd spend the entire day in bed, just enjoying each other's company, each other's bodies and love; caresses full of affection carried with lust, turned into nothing more than just a memory some months later. Every weekend Joel simply got up, had breakfast and told you he was heading for work; and he would spend the entire day there, no phone calls to let you know he wouldn't be back for lunch nor calls to tell you he would grab a few drinks with the guys.

Always the guys, and as much as you tried to convince yourself it was indeed just one drink, or a burger, or a soccer match with the guys, your heart was sending you signals, trying to warn you there was something seriously wrong. Yet, you chose not to believe it, you told yourself it was actually kind of cruel of you to have such thoughts about your poor hard-working husband. What kind of wife would you be if you became paranoid while Joel was just working hard to provide you a good life?!

Joel was so busy with his work he barely even noticed when you asked for a double shift on Saturdays. Not that you liked working at the mall, but if you were going to stay alone all the time, you figured you would at least earn some money. Maybe Joel was just stressed about having to put up with the bills all by himself, you reminded yourself. Perhaps things would be back at what they were in the beginning, you were now marking six months of marriage and you knew this wasn't supposed to be happening. Your husband wasn't supposed to be that uninterested in you, he wasn't supposed to be indifferent towards your presence or so ungrateful, and yet you decided to fight for his love, after all, you loved him more than anything, more than anyone, it was an overwhelming feeling but you simply couldn't move on from it.

You waited for Joel another night, you'd made dinner, but of course he said he wasn't very hungry because he had grabbed a bite to eat with the guys.

Your heart clenched, he didn't kiss you, nor held you, it was like you were two different people sharing the same house; not lovers, not husband and wife, perhaps not even friends anymore. It felt each time more and more empty next to Joel, but you tried. You sat down and had dinner on your own, as he glued himself to the TV, watching whatever it was on. You knew him enough to know his mind was drifting away, thinking of something or someone, you weren't sure, the only thing you were a hundred percent sure was that he did everything at his willpower so he wouldn't have to spend time with you. It hurt, like a knife piercing through your chest, it was humiliating and you still didn't know why you were insisting. You swallowed after dinner and walked to the couch, he was nearly asleep and you ran your hands through his hair, feeling how soft his curls were; you had missed dearly times like that, it had been only a few months prior and yet, it felt like an eternity. The way your Joel would come to you, crave your touch, and just overall pay attention to you, unlike the haunting reality that you had to face, in which your husband simply began to ignore you, as if you weren't much more than a shadow, or an invisible and yet quite annoying presence. You looked down at his sleepy and peaceful form, he always looked so young and innocent when he slept it always warmed your heart.

The tip of your fingers ran through his scalp once more, he had always loved that particular display of affection. Minutes passed while you stroked his hair, you could feel Joel shifting softly under your touch, satisfied groans coming out like purrs as he began to slowly open his eyes

"Angela.." he murmured under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to catch it.

At that moment you felt as if you'd lost all balance, gripping the couch and staring at him in disbelief

"Who's Angela?" Your voice suddenly loud and serious, making Joel snap away from the sleeping haze he was in and stare into your eyes. He was carefully not to give it away immediately

"What are you talking about?" He got up from the couch, determined to turn his back to you

"You said a name. Angela, who's she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Y/N, stop being crazy"

Your blood boiled at the accusation.

For months all you did was try to be the perfect housewife, you cooked, cleaned, worked and brought home the little money you made in order to win back your husband's attention, not only that, you didn't want to have to give away to everyone who told you you would be making a mistake by marrying so young. It had been so difficult to actually admit to yourself your marriage was at a risk, and now you just had enough proof. After months of indifference, your husband was now mumbling another woman's name; as if it wasn't bad enough, he was trying to make the tables turn by accusing you of being crazy. That was so typical of men, but not of your Joel, you thought he would never do that, you were so sure he was honest, honorable, a decent human being, he wouldn't hurt you on purpose in order to prove his point. Or so you thought.

"Don't you fucking dare call me crazy, Joel Miller, for the past couple of months you haven't given a shit about me, you're never home, you never spend time with me, you don't hug me, don't kiss me, you don't even fuck me anymore, and now you are mumbling someone else's name? Who's she? Is she your mistress? How long have you been with her?"

Again, you tried being strong, you really did, but your voice cracked, and the tears threatening to escape now ran freely down your cheeks, he'd walked away from you, but you managed to corner him in the kitchen, you were tired of being blinded by your own feelings, at the same time you were tired of being played by Joel, he had no right to act that way.

"Answer me, Joel!!! Who's the fucking whore?!" You yelled at him, the impatience and anxiety creating an explosive combination inside of you. You were so close to solving the mystery that haunted you at the same time you didn't wanna hear any further word. You just wished you could close your eyes and make all that away, you wish you could just wake up and see the last couple of months were nothing but a nightmare and that you still had the same good old loving Joel Miller as the best husband in the world; instead, he simply groaned, rubbing his face and looked down, not having the courage of look at you in the eyes.

"She's not a whore, don't call her that. I-We.. we're in love. I met her at work, she's the receptionist there and we hit it off… she's gorgeous, funny and I fell for her" he swallowed not sure where the strength to be honest with you about his feelings was coming from, but it was enough to make eye contact "I've never cheated on you, Y/N, I haven't slept with her yet, I haven't even kissed her, but I think she's the one, I wanna be with her, I'm not gonna lie to you anymore"

"You don't love me anymore?" That was all you could ask, out of all the cruel and raw information he suddenly threw on you, the only thing you could register was the lack of feelings from the man who swore to love you forever one day.

"Jesus, Y/N, let's not do this now" he groaned, wanting to shift all that anger towards you, somehow blaming you for what happened so he wouldn't be consumed by his own guilt. He wasn't blind, he knew you loved him, he knew you waited at the door for him every single day, with dinner ready a pie in the oven and giving you those sad, heart eyes in hopes of receiving his affection once more. You reminded him of a puppy, as bad as it sounded, all it took you to be happy was a crumble of his love. What angered Joel was that you weren't satisfied with just crumbles, you wanted more and more from him, and he was unavailable; he simply couldn't give it to you, because his heart belonged to someone else. He hadn't planned on that happening, if it were up to him, he would've honored the vows he took on his wedding day, but Angela walked into his life without a warning and swept him off his feet. He couldn't stay with you out of pity, you deserved to be happy and so did you, but you weren't meant to be together.

"Do you love me or not, Joel?! Did you even love me?" Another grunt from his lips, you were so frustrated you didn't know how to rationalize, how to wrap your head around the fact he proposed to you, he had promised you the world and yet now he was treating you as if you had never mattered to him. His cowardice made you sick, he wasn't even man enough to look you in the eyes, you felt so angry a part of you was glad his body blocked your access to the silverware set because if you got your hands into it you knew at that moment you were willing to make a mistake. You gripped his shirt, slapping his chest and scratching him in a sloppy way, demanding answers from him. He could stop you at any moment, Joel was bigger and stronger than you, but he let you have your moment of hurting him out of pity, before calming gripping your arms and pushing you away

"I guess it's obvious I don't love you anymore, I love Angela, it's not my fault, it just happened, but I'm sure I want to be with her, you and I can't keep lying to ourselves, you can't keep lying to yourself, we're over, just as the love I felt from you, it's over…"

•••

You didn't remember much more after that. Some flashes of the following days, where the initial shock was still going strong, the waves of sadness mixed with anger, how Joel gathered some of his clothes and left the house that same night - probably to go to Angela's, how you refused to eat for the couple of days, you didn't talk to anyone, just spent your time alternating between crying yourself to sleep and actually sleeping, were just moments of blur. At some point you remember Tommy - Joel's brother checking up on you just to make sure you were alright. Tommy was the youngest of the Miller brothers, he was said to be the inconsequential one, but he would never do what his older brother had done.

Only after a few days Joel stopped by the house you once had shared, he had heard from his brother the pitiful mess you'd become because of him, and though a part of him didn't have the courage to ever face you again, another part - a more honorable one - insisted on it because he had to give you some kind of explanation. So after work, he didn't drive to Angela's like he'd been doing for the last few days, becoming his sweet routine and bringing so much joy now that he was free to love her just as much as she wanted to love him. Instead of going to his happy place, Joel drove back to the house that used to be his home for a while, a place where he'd been happy but it hadn't been enough for him. It was funny how he expected things to be drastically different, because his life had taken a dramatic turn just as yours had, and yet, things were just the same, or they appeared to be at least. He got off his truck, seeing that not a lot had changed, but this time there wasn't music coming from the house, it didn't smell like fresh cooked dinner, simply the living room with the lights on were the only thing that showed there was still someone in the house.

When he walked in, he expected to see you crying, depressed and begging him to get back, but much to his surprise, all your bags were already nearly packed and though it was visible you'd had some rough time by dark circles under your eyes and how pale your skin was, you welcomed him with a emotionless expression on your face, pointing at the couch, so he would take a seat and you could talk things through. After all the crying and suffering, you felt as if something had clicked and suddenly you went from heartbroken to numb. You knew the swirl of feelings would come and go, but taking advantage of your numbness, you put your head into place as best as you could and packed all your things, you didn't want to stay at that place surrounded by Joel memories, knowing he'd left the place you once called home and you were both so happy and also so unhappy in a short span of time. You wanted to put yourself back together, heal from him, forget he ever existed, go back to studying and focus on yourself only. But for that to happen, you wanted closure, not only wanting, you needed closure.

His low apologies combined with the rambling that came out of Joel's mouth was getting on your nerves, why couldn't he man up and actually tell you what he needed to in order to finally close that chapter in your lives.

"If you're not getting straight to the point, I will, Joel… I packed my bags, I am leaving this house, it's yours, your family managed to help you with it and I wouldn't feel comfortable living here. I'll go to college as soon as the next semester starts and I'll be waiting for the divorce papers, sign it as soon as possible, and pretend this never happened"

"Wait… what?! You want to divorce?!" Joel was quite shocked, not that he didn't want to divorce, because he did, so he could finally be officially with Angela, but he didn't think it would be that easy for you to agree, let alone be the one suggesting it.

You laughed. It was a dry, ironic laughter, because honestly, you didn't think Joel was that much of a dick, it was fascinating how he broke your heart and he still found a way to have his ego bruised by the fact you wouldn't accept being in a submission position, that you wouldn't cry and beg for him.

"What did you expect Joel?! That I would stay here, legally married to you, cooking and washing your dirty underwear while you go out of the door and keep cheating on me with that whore? Seriously? That's how low you think of me?"

"I already told you she isn't a whore and I have never cheated on you, that's why I want to divorce, us getting married was clearly a mistake and it's not my fault if I don't love you anymore.."

"So whose fault is it? Mine?! Do you really think what you did isn't cheating, Joel? Just because you hadn't fucked her while we were still together, but you had spent time with her, emotionally connected with her, fuck, just the fact you let her get closer to you even though you were married, that's cheating! You say it isn't because you don't want to feel guilty, but deep down inside you just know it is! I agree with you on one thing, though: our marriage was a stupid mistake, because of you I delayed a whole year of my life, I almost sacrificed my future because I really took your words and believed them, that we would be together, I never thought out of all the people in the world, you would be the one to hurt me! I trusted you, do you even know how many times I cried and sulked because I blamed myself for your behavior? The amount of times I felt guilty for even remotely considering the possibility of you having someone else? Because in my mind you'd always been the perfect husband and yet, you were backstabbing me day after day, with that slut!"

"Don't you fucking call her a slut! She's not a slut, she's not a whore! It's not her fault if you are a petty envious woman!"

"She is a slut Joel, I'm sure of it, because if she had any decency she wouldn't have come closer to a married man, my husband! She is probably excited about the thrill, but I'm certain that once the reality hits and she sees herself locked inside having to carry out chores everyday, take care of the house, the husband and even the kids if you two ever come to it, it's not gonna be as fun, and then you'll meet her for real. I don't wish you anything bad, but god help you if you ever have to face a disappointment as big as mine"

You dried your tears and began removing your wedding ring, it was quite pricey taking into account how complicated your financial situation was. You intended to return it to him, but the mere thought of maybe Joel taking the ring and handing it to his former mistress and soon-to-be official girlfriend, was enough to make you nauseated. You gave up removing it and left the ring right there.

"I'm leaving this place tomorrow, you can send the divorce papers over to my parents' and I hope I'll never see you again, Joel"

•••

You wished you could say that was the last time you ever saw Joel Miller in your life, but unfortunately, things weren't too easy for you. Only two months before you could finally enter college and forget about the disastrous year you had, you were working double shifts at the mall, in hopes of saving a decent amount of money for yourself. It was supposed to be another lazy evening, in which you would have to kill time until you could go home, you had just had your break and as you walked back into the store, you couldn't help but pay attention to your left hand. The wedding ring still there. It brought you shame and embarrassment, the mere fact you left it there. You often lied to people and to yourself by saying it was a way of keeping disrespectful customers away, but the truth was, you just didn't know why it was so hard to do it. It felt like a weight you couldn't get rid of, a part of your life that seemed like nothing but delusion.

You were scared of removing that ring, it was a sign that Joel wouldn't be much more than a memory to you, and even if you knew that was exactly what you needed, your heart still yearned for him. It wasn't fair, to still love the person who had hurt you the most, burying deep those feelings but also knowing they were there was nerve wracking.

You were ready to get back to work, just about to enter the store you were so used to spending your whole day when you felt paralyzed.

"What do you think of this one, darling? Do you think our baby will like it?"

It was Joel's voice.

His voice.

Darling.

Our baby.

You stopped yourself right there, too far away from their distracted eyes, taking in all the colorful and beautiful options they had before them, but also close enough so you could actually hear the conversation. Joel Miller was going to be a dad, it was a fact, you weren't having a nightmare that you were about to wake up in cold sweat at any minute, instead, he was there, with her, the woman he dumped you for, the woman who was now carrying his child. Under the shelves you'd been hiding, you could only catch a glimpse of her baby bump, and the way Joel's hand rested over it in a protective way. It was enough to make your stomach upset, your eyes burning with the tears that once more insisted on appearing. He had moved on from you, much faster than you had moved on from him; their happiness could be beautiful to anyone, but to you it was disgusting, infuriating, they had no right to come to your place of work and be so glad about life itself.

You couldn't actually see Angela's face, all you were able to watch from where you stood was Joel's hand on her womb, his right one, but the moment he rested his left one on her waist, you gasped softly. The wedding ring was gone.

Joel wasn't feeling that comfortable about being at that particular store, though it was the only decent baby clothing store at the mall, he knew you worked there or at least used to; but Angela wanted new baby stuff and he was going to be a dad, so it was his duty to take her and help her sort things out. He thought of you, not having seen you or listened to your voice in months he sort of missed you? He couldn't lie to himself, he was glad to be divorced, he was happy in a relationship with a baby on the way, but you'd been important to him too, he wished things didn't have to end the way they did, he has gotten used to living with you, seeing you, kissing you, touching you, it was natural that he missed the dynamics you two had established. A part of him sort of wanted to run into you at the store, he wanted to see how you were doing, if you were taking good care of yourself, but it was a relief to everyone you weren't there. It would be just awkward and embarrassing to be baby clothes shopping in front of you. And of course, he never wanted to hurt you more than he had already done it, but you would have probably interpreted it as provocation.

He scratched down his head while Angela picked all her favorites, Joel tried hard not to pay attention to the price tags, money was still a delicate matter for the two of them, but he had managed to get some by selling his wedding ring. Of course the pair would've been worth a lot more, but he couldn't go after you to ask for your ring, so he just negotiated his own and took the money. It wasn't the ideal situation, but in a few months they'd welcome the tiny little person that would become the most important thing in Joel's life.

You were too hurt to continue watching their display of happiness, you turned your back to the place you were hiding and you returned to the small break room. That was indeed the last time you'd seen Joel Miller; that was it until you also met someone who brought chaos but also colors into your life.

•••

"Aren't you too old to sell cookies door to door for school?" Joel asked while chewing his scrambled eggs and slurped his coffee, watching as his daughter rolled her eyes at him

"Aren't you too old not to eat your vegetables?" She snapped back at him in their usual morning routine.

Sarah was a teenager, much to Joel's sadness, as he still had serious attachments to when she was younger. He knew it was part of life, and watching her blossoming into a beautiful young girl made him proud and hopeful about the future, he knew his sweet Sarah would go far. But that also made him scared, because no matter how irrational it was, Sarah always reminded him of you; and he knew that if any guy ever dared to do to his baby girl, what he did to you, he would be really to kill him in no time. Joel Miller would like to think he had improved a lot as a human being, after all, he wasn't a young man anymore, he was a full grown adult, who had to get himself together and mature after he was abandoned by his girlfriend with a newborn baby. Life was full of irony and he was one to witness it, being left by the woman he loved and trusted a little more than a year after he was the one who walked away from someone who loved and trusted him. It was what everyone said: karma is really a bitch.

Through the years, Joel really felt an urge to call you, perhaps ask you to meet him, so you could catch up and he could finally apologize to you, but he had lost all contact with you. In fact he had no idea what you were up to through the decades, the few times your parents ran into him on the street or at the grocery store and made sure to ignore his presence and pretend they'd never met. He just couldn't approach them and ask for your phone number. Besides, what would he even tell you?

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you the woman I left you for also left me, so now I'm a lonely single dad and I realized I took you for granted and maybe if you ain't busy, we could go for a cup of coffee or something?!"

It would be just straight up stupid, not to mention he was sure you would've found someone nice, someone worthy of you, probably you'd be married by then, perhaps you'd have a kid or two, and he was sure you'd be an amazing mother, because he just knew you were an amazing wife, and he was the only one to blame for not treating you the way you deserved it.

So Joel decided it was best if he pretended nothing ever happened just like you did with him, of course destiny had other plans.

He gave Sarah a ride to school and went to work. It would be another busy day, like all of his days, in which he would work hard in order to save as much money as he could, wanting to assure his daughter the future she deserved. For Sarah, it meant another day of classes and selling cookies. She didn't like the activity, but she didn't hate it either. In fact, on that particular day she felt kind of excited as she was about to head towards the 'good' part of the neighborhood, where most houses were big and seemed expensive. Getting her backpack and her stash of goodies to sell, she left home and went on with her day.

You, on the other hand, hadn't planned on coming back to Austin so soon, as the years turned into a decade, and then a little bit more than that, you had dedicated yourself fully to your academic and professional life, focusing on yourself only, managing to bury deep your memories of Joel and never paying attention to anything remotely close to a love life.

Yes, you'd had relationships, affairs, and you'd been with a few guys: one of them was Javier, he was a handsome but very slutty cop who you had a no-string relationship with; it was good for a while, he was handsome, sexy and he fucked like no other, but he had a taste for women that unabled himself to keep it inside of his pants. You liked the freedom, but that was too much.

You also dated a guy named Dave for a brief period, he was nice, also painfully handsome, a tiny bit mysterious about his high profile government job, but he wanted a family, not just another relationship. He wanted marriage and kids, and you were just out of it in no time. The last straw was when you were traveling back home and during one stop for dinner at a small, cozy bar, a guy dressed entirely in cowboy attire came onto you. It was the undeniable proof you weren't made for relationships at all; it was like Joel Miller had casted a spell, or worse, a curse on you: it had become impossible for you to be in a relationship. Still, that wasn't your main concern, not more than why you had to move back to Austin after all those years shifting from New York to Boston, Texas and even a brief period in Spain which led you into an affair with another guy named Javier, but well, that was definitely another story. You'd simply got a phone call from your parents talking about a family emergency and once you had asked for a leave, your boss had mentioned the opportunity of you working for the Austin branch, it was a promising one, with a lot of chances of career growth and becoming the head of the office would actually come in handy, so you had no other option than say yes and pack your stuff. When you got back to Texas, despite the suffocating heat, you were also welcomed with suffocating news of your grandmother's passing, and a couple of weeks later, the news she'd left you a house in the suburbs, a real good area with many families, easy traffic and a lot of space. Having become an apartment person over the years, you first thought it was so odd to live in a house, especially by yourself. Everything seemed so big but now you didn't have to worry about having to clean it all, being able to afford someone to do so, you found your way by decorating everything exactly the way you liked it, using the spare rooms to build your home office, your closet space and a guest room, you slowly turned grandma's house into your own. However, the exterior still bothered you: there was a great space in the backyard, but the swimming pool was empty and dirty, and you could definitely have a barbecue area built so you could welcome your friends and family on weekends. As it wasn't your priority, you didn't bother so much about it, turning your attention to settling into your new office first.

•••

"Oh, hi ma'am, I'm selling cookies to help our school fund, would you be interested?" Sarah displayed a wide grin, hoping that would soften up the very annoyed looking old woman who opened the door. She noticed how the old lady looked at her up and down and just groaned a 'no' before practically slamming the door shut. Sarah sighed and shook her head, and there she was thinking the people who lived in the wealthier part of the neighborhood were more generous, but apparently they were just a bunch of snobbish cunts. Her stomach growled in hunger as she walked some more, she knew she should've eaten before going to sell the cookies, but she didn't have time at that moment. She insisted some more, knocking on another door, having no clue she was actually knocking on her father's ex-wife's door.

Sighing tiredly as you closed your laptop, you looked around and focused on what you would do next. You knew you needed to go grocery shopping soon, but you just didn't feel like driving to the store and pick up vegetables, so instead, you left your study and went to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and groaning slightly the moment the doorbell rang. You were just so comfortable on the couch, you considered ignoring whoever was on the other side of the door, but for some reason, a slight wave of guilt made its presence and you obliged to answer whoever was disturbing you.

"Hello! My name's Sarah Miller and we're selling cookies for the school fund, would you be interested?" The smiley girl repeated her memorized speech the moment you open the door, she discreetly watched you, seeing you didn't seem so closed like the woman from the previous house, but still she wasn't sure if you were friendly, not when you stared at her with a seemingly shocked look.

Miller.

Her name was Miller.

Your heart raced and lost track of what she was saying, knowing you desperately needed to get your shit back together; Miller wasn't an uncommon name at all, quite the opposite, you had met a few people who also coincidentally had the same last name as your ex-husband, so your reaction to the girl's name was just absurd. Maybe it was because you were back in Austin, where everything happened, but then again, you reminded yourself Joel wasn't the only person named Miller in Texas.

"I-I'm sorry… I got distracted but yeah, I'll take two boxes" you smiled at the girl, she was a teenager, a very pretty one, she was pretty good at expressing herself though she looked exhausted and sweaty.

"Would you like to drink some water?" You offered her, feeling sorry for her at the realization she had probably been walking under the sunlight for quite some time. Sarah didn't think twice before nodding eagerly as she stepped inside, dragging her school bag and her cookie cart along. You let her in, finding sweet how she looked all over the place, taking in the different details from your home and enjoying that environment.

You guided her to the kitchen, getting her a tall glass of iced water, frowning at the fact she wasn't following you anymore. Instead, she stood in front of your bookshelf, looking at it up and down, trying to take in as many titles as she could. Sarah would love to have her own bookshelf like that, she loved reading ever since she was a little girl and though she used the school's library a lot, she thought the idea of having her own things was appealing, but she understood her dad couldn't simply splurge on books for her whenever she wanted to.

"Do you like books?" You asked her, walking closer and handing her the glass of water, which she killed with only a few gulps.

"Have you read all of them?!" Her surprised voice made you chuckle, she was such a sweet girl, you had no idea why you instantly liked her, but you did.

"Well, not all of them… I've just bought some of them and I haven't had the time yet, why? Did any of them interest you?"

"Well…" she said shyly and hesitantly ran her fingers through them, only pulling one out to read the description at your encouraging nod. "This one seems nice…"

"It is nice… do you want it? You can take it!" You smiled at how she blinked a little confused but nodded, so thankful for your kindness. Even if she didn't know you, Sarah already liked you. She smiled at the book and placed the glass down.

"Have you had lunch?" She shook her head shyly and you smiled "come on, I'll make you a sandwich…"

For the next hour, you and Sarah talked about several things: she told you about her school, her interests and how much she loved reading. She had assured you she would return you the book as soon as she finished it and you assured her she could borrow as many as she would like. She also briefly talked about her family, mentioning she lived with her dad on the other side of the neighborhood and you told her a little bit more about yourself.

She widened her eyes the moment she saw what time it really was, and quickly grabbed her backpack and the book you'd lent her, thank you several times as she walked towards the door "go before your mom gets worried about you" you told her without much thinking, but she shrugged "mom's not around… I live with my dad only, but it was really nice meeting you, Y/N"

•••

And for the next month, at least once a week you'd get a visit from Sarah. It had become a habit of hers to just stop by, spend a couple of hours with you, return you the book she'd borrowed the week before and get a new one. She didn't talk much about her family, it was mostly about school, friends and boy crushes and books. You were kind of suspicious she was missing a feminine figure, since she briefly told you her mom left a couple of months after she was born without looking back, you picked up the hint she wasn't open to talk about it yet, and you respected it. You were glad you unexpectedly got a new friend, a very young friend, and at first you thought it was kind of odd, until you realized she sort of resembled a daughter figure to you. After all, if you had had children with Joel, your child would be around Sarah's age.

Joel also thought it was kind of weird his daughter made an adult friend, he was well aware of how dangerous things were in the world, especially for young, innocent girls like Sarah, but when she told him her new friend was a woman, single, childless woman, who was nice, definitely had some money but also seemed quite lonely, he assumed she was one of those old cat lady kind of women; in his mind, his daughter's mysterious friend was probably a widow, who didn't have any kids and now had to approach random people for attention so she wouldn't be alone all the time. If only he knew how wrong he was, he would've asked your name, but he didn't. And he also knew he should've done it, perhaps even asked for your phone number so he could call you in case of god forbid, an emergency. But he worked so hard, not only that, he was going through a very stressful period too, so he didn't pay as much attention as he should have towards several things.

Sarah had become acquainted with several aspects of your life, from the time you spent together in your weird version of a book club. Mostly the conversations were about her and the struggles she often faced as a teenager, but sometimes you let out information, plans or complaints here and there. It wasn't different the day you were very displeased with how your backyard was looking; it had potential to be a beautiful place but it needed fixing and remodeling. Perhaps it'd been the stress at work, but for whatever reason the way that place looked was bothering you and making you cranky, if any other given day you wouldn't give a crap about it, but at that moment you did, and not only that, you mentioned it to Sarah, who tried to be useful and told you she could ask her dad to take a look at it, after all, he was in the business and could help you with it. You said yes and told her you'd be expecting the two of them on Saturday morning. Only when the girl had left happily carrying another book in hands, was that you realized that maybe, and just maybe, you should've asked her father's name.

•••

"So, you're really sure this friend of yours wants to get some stuff remodeled? And that she can afford it?" Joel glanced at Sarah before focusing again on the street as he drove to her new friend's house. He wasn't truly convinced you would actually want to hire his services, it just seemed too good to be true. He held back a smile at the way Sarah rolled her eyes at him, she'd told him hundreds of times that yes, you needed someone to repair and remodel the backyard, if anything, he could at least indicate you someone who could provide the service you were looking for.

"Fine, let's help the old lady then" he grunted at the same time his daughter turned to him "what old lady?!"

"Your friend… isn't she old? I mean, she's lonely and she lets you hang out… I thought she'd be like our neighbor an-"

"Dad, she's younger than you, I think! And she's pretty too…"

At that information Joel was more curious about you. Why was a pretty young woman all alone and willing to be friends with a girl who could roughly be her kid's age?! Were you really pretty? And did you really want your backyard remodeled or was Sarah playing matchmaker? He really hoped she wasn't, otherwise he would be very angry. Joel didn't need a new relationship, he didn't want to, having failed the two major ones he had in his life, the first one being so immature and cruel to his sweet young wife and the second one he didn't exactly where he screwed up, perhaps he had just been naive and thought the woman who wanted nothing more than just some fun was actually willing to build a life with, or maybe he wanted her to take over your place, after all, you'd set the bar pretty high for Angela when it came on being a dedicated housewife. The raw fact was that Joel was alone all those years later, his first wife was hopefully living her best years with someone who truly deserved her and Angela was God knows where but he didn't give a single fuck. She'd been dead to him from the moment she walked out of his door, denying her own baby, and all that passion he felt turned into hurt and anger. Unlike the feelings he had for you: as the years passed and he grew older, he thought of several times he could've treated you better than he did, he thought of how he would have tried not hurting you as much as he did, even if the situation the two of you were was tricky, he often fantasized about a version of your marriage where he hadn't ruined everything, where he had been honest without being cruel, without playing with your feelings, he didn't know if it was just his conscious weighing heavily on him or what, but he always thought of you with affection and love. At that time he was sure he didn't love you anymore, the passion he felt for the other woman was too intense, too much, it blinded and deafened him from everything around, everything that mattered the most to him at the time. But all those years later, Joel was sure the love for you was still there, perhaps it was just hidden away, or it got stuck under all that shit that went on, still, he didn't know who you had become, what you looked like or where you were at that moment, so it was a fairly assumption he was still in love with a memory and nothing more than that.

"Fine, so what's her name after all?" He questioned his daughter after some moment of silence but before she could answer, Joel parked his truck in front of your home.

You heard the engine and you went to the window, checking the unknown car parked in front of your place and though you couldn't actually see them inside, you knew it was Sarah and her dad. Just as you went to the door, he exited the car, his back to the entrance as you walked to them and greeted Sarah, at the sound of your voice he immediately turned around and the two of you froze in time as you watched each other there.

Joel.

You felt as if you were trapped in a weird dream, the ones you know you are just dreaming and yet you can't move or speak, just taking the role of the audience of a bizarre picture that formed before your eyes. Joel on the other hand, stared at you in complete silence, you couldn't really read him, it was impossible to know what was going on in his mind, in his heart, you could just feel his eyes roaming over your body, taking all the image of you as if he was trying to make sure you were actually what he saw in front of him. He couldn't believe it, after all those years, after everything he did to you, you were there, beautiful as you'd always been, even more so, the fancy lifestyle really suited you, he could tell by your clothes, your nails perfectly done, your hair looking gorgeous and styled nicely, you had succeeded, you had had a life he knew he could never provide you, and for that he felt kind of relieved, at least one good thing came out of your divorce: the chance of you having the success you deserved it, you weren't that housewife who needed to still work part time at the mall, you were above that now, and Joel was so damn proud of you for it.

"I-I.. yo-"

"Nice to meet you, you must be Sarah's dad" you interrupted him before he could say your name and extended your hand to him, pretending you'd just met. He was confused but you tilted your head very discreetly towards his daughter, being sure she didn't know anything that had happened between the both of you. He immediately picked up the hint and introduced himself, as if you were meeting for the first time. His hand engulfed yours like it always did, Joel Miller had always had big and strong hands, surely they got calloused through the years, but you knew damn well what they were capable of doing to you. He was older, looking more handsome than you thought he would, he aged like a fine wine, streaks of silver here and there but the majority of his hair still dark and soft like always, he was bigger too, he was stronger, broad and grew several muscles, all of it a result of years of hard-working. No matter if he had broken your heart, there was no denying he was an extremely attractive man.

He appreciated how heartfelt you were towards his daughter and gladly followed you inside once you invited him into the backyard to discuss what could be done. Sarah was right behind the two of you, but you turned to her, smiling big

"I went to the bookstore yesterday and I think you might enjoy what I bought, wanna take a look at it? They're all in the living room" you suggested to her who nodded and happily went after the books.

Once you and Joel got into the backyard, he stuttered some apologies but you immediately cut him off.

"I don't want apologies Joel, I didn't know Sarah was your daughter and I probably wouldn't have let her in if I knew who she was, but now I got attached to her and I hope our situation isn't going to prevent us from being friends" you told him honestly and watched as he nodded

"You know, her mom, Angela, she left us and I'm very sorry I left you for her.. "

"I don't wanna hear it, Joel. As I said, I don't wanna hear it about her mom or the apologies or anything at all, I mean, Sarah told me what happened and it's enough, you and I aren't together anymore, we're better off without each other, so let's just overcome this part and focus on the job I need you to do…"

"You know, I can indicate you another contractor to do it for you, so it won't be weird…"

"No, you can do it, unless you are feeling uncomfortable but other than that, I'd rather you do it, besides, Sarah would find it awkward"

And like that, Joel got into his professional mood and the two of you discussed the project you had in mind, hiring his services, he told you he could start the next Monday and he would take care of it himself, to make sure things would go according to your wishes. He noticed you didn't wear any commitment rings, nor there were pictures of you and any guy indicating a relationship and in his heart, the hope of perhaps taking you out for a coffee and getting to know you, the woman you'd become after those years, after growing mature and changing your life completely, growing in his heart. It was a fair assumption Joel had an immediate crush on you, the feelings he held within, were now blossoming more, at how beautiful, intelligent and attractive you were and suddenly, the roles were reversed: if more than ten years ago you had it bad for him, now he was the one who felt like a sick love puppy towards you.

The first week of working wasn't so bad at all, Joel would arrive at yours earlier than you expected and would start working. You didn't stay around much, letting him do his job while you were probably working in the living room or any other part of the house whenever you didn't have to go to work per se. He tried making small talk during some of his breaks and since you didn't see any harm in it, you chatted briefly, that was how he'd learned what you did for a living, where you'd been after you left Austin, and stuff like that. He told you some things about his life, mostly about how it'd been the experience of raising a child on his own, but whenever he got near bringing up your past or trying to apologize, you'd cut up any kind of interaction with him. At the end of the day you and him had nothing but a professional relationship. He understood your reasons, and yet, he hoped you would find at least a small breach in your heart to let him in, he really hoped he could show you he was a better man now, that he could be suitable for you, and yet, you kept yourself all the way distant and protecting yourself from him.

So it became a very common scene to always escape from Joel, moving seats or rooms whenever he was around, you didn't know how else to act, what he expected from you. It wasn't like you were old buddies catching up after years in a long-distance relationship. And he always got displeased.

It was about the third week of working at your house, he asked if he could use your kitchen to have lunch, heating up the food he'd eat, you smiled at yourself as you were taken back by the memories of times where you would prepare him lunches and send it in his lunchbox, how you would worry about him being hungry so you would always make sure there was something fresh out of the oven for him to nibble on as soon as he got home from work and chuckled softly, shaking your head and excusing yourself. He'd thought you would at least have lunch next to him, but you weren't willing to do that at all, and that both pained and pissed him off.

"Would it kill you to spend time with me? Look at me? Or act like a human being instead of being all stiff like a robot whenever I'm around?" He asked, breaking the silence, you could see he was frustrated and that puzzled you to no end.

"What are you talking about, Joel?!"

"You don't talk to me, Y/N, I try making small talk, you don't answer me, you don't even look at me, suddenly I'm not worth your time? You're too good to even acknowledge I am next to you?"

"Do you really want to talk about not being worth someone's time? Really Joel? I thought you had grown up during all these years but I can see you are just the same shallow fuckboy who gets pissed off when you see I'm not crawling towards you…"

"Stop being unfair to me! All I'm trying to do is to show you I've changed, I am a better man, a better person, I'm not that same immature Joel you met so many years ago, I'm trying to make you see I'm a new man…" he went from angry to desperate, you took a step closer and looked into his eyes, not breaking the eye contact for one second.

"I know Joel, I know you've changed… you've grown into this hardworking man, this amazing father, I can see it, I hear it every time Sarah comes over, but you don't have to try too hard, it's not gonna change anything… You and I are two different people, we have nothing to do with each other anymore"

"You can't say that, I want you to see we could try it again, I still love you, Y/N!"

"Joel, we'll never try it again, the marks of your betrayal still linger here, all over me, forgetting you was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I don't want to ever feel it again. You don't love me, Joel. You love the idea of me, of picking up the shattered parts of your broken life and making it right, you love the thought of building up a family, of giving your daughter the mom she deserves, and it's all because it didn't work out with that woman. We both know it… if she hadn't left you wouldn't even be thinking of me" you looked down, trying to hold back a tear that insisted on falling, but failing at that matter. "I wasn't good enough to be by your side, to build a family with you, you can't just expect me to throw myself into your arms as if nothing had happened, what exactly do you think would happen between us in the first place? I'd be waiting for you every single night with dinner ready? Those days were over, Joel…" you sniffed and he sighed, placing his hand on his waist.

"Give me a chance, go on a date with me, please… before you say no, just think about it, of what we could have together… please! You don't have to answer me now, think about it and when I finish the job, you can tell me your answer"

•••

The following weeks were as normal as they could be; you hadn't told Joel yes but you hadn't told him no either and even if it pained you to admit it, you sometimes thought of his proposition. Sarah was still coming over, your bond was now stronger, you really liked each other and despite everything that happened, you were thankful Joel wasn't against your friendship. You two had agreed on not telling her anything about your shared past at the moment, but in case you two decided she needed to know it for whatever reason, Joel would be the one to tell her, it would only make sense. You also thought about his words and you decided to be nicer to him, actually stopping to talk to him, or having lunch next to him instead of rushing away as fast as you could and in retribution, he stopped with the feelings talk. The deadline was coming to an end, as your backyard remodeling was getting prettier and prettier each passing day. It was odd and awkward and you wanted to get things over with as soon as possible at the same time a strange fascination with watching Joel caught you. It was hard to explain, but when the final day came, when Joel and his assistant showed you the word ready and done, and after you paid them the large wage you owed them for the services, your ex-husband asked to talk to you. He had hope in his eyes, he was wearing his flannel, and he'd combed his hair a little, which made him look painfully handsome, your heart clenched. Even before he could say anything, you already had your answer. He stood in front of you, baffled at the fact you threw your arms around his body, pulling him for a hug. His hands locked around your waist, strong grip not wanting to let go, while you sank into his warmth. He was your old Joel, the one you'd loved so deeply and broke your heart, but nonetheless your Joel.

Taking your hand to his face, you stroked it gently, feeling his beard scratching your palm a little and you smiled "I forgive you, Joel… I don't know if you wanted my forgiveness or not, but I forgive you anyway, I don't resent you anymore, what's gone, it's gone and now we can only focus on our future. I know that if I tried looking for a space in my heart, I would find it a part that still keeps all the love I felt for you, but we've changed, for the best and that teaches us we should never make the same mistakes from the past, so you do understand why we can't go on this date, right? We can't be together, I'm sorry Joel, but you know it's true… I just need one last thing from you…"

You told him, leaning towards him and pecking his lips. After all that time, it still felt like your favorite place in the world, your heart raced the moment he groaned into your mouth and his hands tightened his dominating grip on you. It was quite pathetic how he still had the same effect over you and if he hadn't hurt you as much as he did and condemned you two to a relationship based on lack of trust, perhaps you could even consider trying again. Forgiving and forgetting were different things, whereas you didn't resent him anymore, you hadn't forgotten about how broken he left your heart. You would never be able to trust him again, always worrying he had found someone better like he did once, you couldn't do that to yourself, you loved yourself too much to go back to Joel Miller. That last kiss you cherished, you would keep it in your memories, but it wouldn't go further than that. You and Joel were done for years and nothing would convince you otherwise.

____

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it 😭💔

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #tlou show #tlou fanfiction

834 notes · View notes