#before they've even said a word
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doctor who is the ultimate doomed by the narrative show. imo. the doctor always has to change & the companion always has to leave & nothing can be done about it! this change is necessitated by the narrative- it is the only way the story goes & it is the only way the story can go. no matter how many "i'll travel with you forever"s stand in its way.
#just like. we meet a bright-eyed companion & know that they will have to leave#before they've even said a word#doctor who#bea.txt
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Wait, they're making another one? Oh-kaaayyyy... Not holding my breath, but hopefully it's at least better than the $h!tshow that was the second movie. (Even if that "version" of Silver is still there.) If it's any consolation, I don't know how much Sega is involved with the Sonic movies, but if it's a good bit, then maybe they can help out! At the very least, there's this amazing comment under the reveal teaser. (GOLDEN ISLAND MENTIONED)
#angry birds#angry birds movie#the angry birds movie#angry birds movie 3#the angry birds movie 3#am i the first one to tag that?#just hoping it's anywhere near as solid as the first and not the dumb unfocused slop that is the second#but seriously please don't drag silver back into this you massacred my favorite adopted piggy-turned-bird enough last time#maybe they could finally do something cool with jo like they've deserved for the past year?#then again it's likely an average-tier animated kids movie so they may not dare include a non-binary character#(then again spa's involved and spider-gwen is at least 80% likely to be trans...#...so maybe there's still hope for jo to finally get to be more than a pfp for a month)#(then again sony wants to play with ai soon so yikes)#yeah i'm still bitter that they're continuing a movie series that got killed five years ago instead of continuing better stuff#like c'mon we get an angry birds movie 3 before angry birds stella season 3 or even toons season 4?#hopefully they actually use the darn slingshots (the absence of which was one of many things that sunk the 2nd movie)#i don't know what to make of angry birds anymore considering how they murdered their renaissance before it could ever begin#(shortening and delisting the remake. making reloaded apple-exclusive. whatever on earth bad piggies 2 was.)#but i'm just hoping they can get at least one thing right this decade. just one please.#being an angry birds since 2012 and witnessing everything go to hell from 2015 onward...#...really was the perfect preparation for being a bengals fan wasn't it#welp forget everything i said about studios earlier#sega is absolutely producing it and the animation will be done by dneg who animated freaking nimona#okay NOW this just got very interesting. now i'm keeping an eye out on this.#(seriously i know dneg didn't do the most on nimona but still.#a studio involved in nimona an angry birds movie.#that combo of words alone might make my day! 2012 sorta and modern sorta would be hugging jumping up and down at that!)
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@beatingheart-bride
"Oh, there's a little pun in there somewhere," Dorian commented with a sly smile as Elizabeth happily embraced Emily back; at this rather cryptic comment, Randall's brow furrowed, and he couldn't help but echo, "Pun?"
"Ah, I'll tell you later," the young master grinned, clapping his best friend on the back as finally, mercifully, the group began to move towards trick 'r treating, much to the relief of the children, who happily ran ahead of their family to get their sweets from the other residents of the Mansion, who were more than happy to dole out treats for the youngest members of the household: Beau gave them both full-sized candy bars, Madame Leota dropped spider-shaped chocolates into their buckets, and the Hitchhikers gave them some rubbery, squishy toy bugs, with Lon immediately throwing his centipede into his sister's hair, to which Erika responded by squishing the beetle into his face.
"Oh, and don't forget your apples!" Phineas added, dropping a pair of them into the buckets, adding with an awkward chuckle, "An apple a day keeps the doctor away! And I should know...I was one..."
"Aw, c'mon, Phinny, no self-respecting little kid wants that crap in their goodie buckets!" Ezra scoffed. "Not unless you're smothering 'em in caramel and nuts or somethin'!"
"It wouldn't hurt them to combat that sweetness with something a little healthier, Ez!" Phineas objected with a shrug, as the family passed through the crypt and out into the park itself, with Lon practically vibrating with excitement as he looked out at the park, all glittering and aglow with greens, purple, and oranges, shining string lights in the shapes of pumpkins and bats, and costumed characters of the more villainous sort walking around, giving playful scares to the mortal guests, all of whom were giggling and squealing with delight over the booming, bouncy music.
#((in some ways i think august's words are gonna hurt even more than josephine's fists!))#((like i said; he's not gonna mince words; he's not gonna beat around the bush; he's gonna cut to the chase))#((and not waste a second calling them out! how dare they be so friendly towards him and his wife))#((but shun his daughter and her family over something so petulant as her marrying an irishman))#((and raising a child with him? how dare they be so chummy with the burkes when they *know* and *remember*))#((what they did to the burke's daughter; their son-in-law; and their grandson?))#((he's absolutely gonna make sure to shame them and give them something to think about before he leaves!))#((i'm sure a lot of them won't be too changed by his words; i think a lot of them wouldn't be surprised))#((that he'd be so sympathetic to an irishman; considering he married such a scandalous woman))#((but i also think he might give a few a moments' pause; reflecting on what they've done!))#outofhatboxes#beatingheart-bride#V:Two Worlds; One Family
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ok im not responding to that person anymore but the white reveal holy shit what. you should in fact stop making walls of text whiteknighting for black ppl who have varied opinions on that episode and talking like ur an authority on this. i dont even know what to say lmao i will continue to shut up about it because genuinely what is any of this its ridiculous we should not be the centering our opinions in a conversation about racism. that apology was for who i thought was a black person having no patience for me posting my thoughts on a thingt i do not experience not for a white person absolutely dominating the conversation across the dw tag over a topic that you should not be centering yourself in????
#i will always listen to black people who call me out whether or not theyre just yelling at me or wte#because racism is an exhausting thing to experience#i have very little time for a white person writing me an essay about how i need to shut up when theyre actively centering#their white opinion on the racism episode as fact and drowning out black ppls commentary including ppl who are saying the same thing#like u are in fact still taking over black fans when u make a billion posts repeating things they've already said instead of just rbing#theyre now vagueing me like ''the fact people assume im black for speaking out on racism really shows fandom is dominated by white ppl''#MOTHERFUCKER I THOUGHT U WERE BLACK BECAUSE UR SPEAKING AS AN AUTHORITY ON THIS WHICH U SHOULD NOT BE DOING#u have multiple long posts talking abt white ppl as if ur not one and probably regurgitating points from black creators without credit#they really tagged that post ''what happened to silence is violence'' im dead#also in their second rb they were saying im uncritical of the way rtd writes black characters and like fucking how lol#even just based on that post how did u get there. i was literally @ing the people who are acting like he's antiracist for this#but tbh they were acting like the word antiracist is synonymous with unproblematic and perfect and that makes a lot of sense lol#very telling from someone who frames themself as an antiracist activist while pulling this shit#fucking wild#we do not get to decide whether that episode was done well or not. as white people. regardless of our first thoughts on it#like we should both just rb black peoples thoughts on it and stfu#they were so eager to tell me noo you absolutely SHOULD post ur white opinions on whether or not racism was handled well in this episode#and definitely dont wait to see black fans thoughts on it before saying anything because silence is violence. hm#okay
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been going through the sumeru archon quest finally (met alhaitham)(my camera roll is just a hundred screenshots of his face)(I'm perfectly normal about him wym) and i think i get why people say comparing him to ratio isn't exactly correct but talking to him does feel like talking to ratio in a surprisingly uncanny way I can't even lie about that
#most of what i know about haitham atp is what i already knew before playing let's start with that#but from what i gathered the main difference with ratio is that ratio is so ambitious his goals cover innumerable galaxies#while haitham really onlt wants to be left alone to chill in peace#given that at least for ratio that's p much the core of his character I'd say it's normal to think they aren't all that similar#but the things they say......the way they interact with people.......the tone they use when talking even...........#if you ignore their life goals i feel like#at least for how much i know haitham now that is#the main difference between them is that maybe ratio is more caring than haitham#but maybe haitham is nicer than ratio#? does that make sense#haithams way of helping is nicer#but he doesn't care to help as much as ratio does#at the same time ratio is harsher with his words and actions than haitham is#but every single one of his actions is meant to care#haitham will sit and look at you and wait for you to find your own answers#which is Extremely ratio of him they both give super strong professor vibes#at more than one point he was like why are you asking when you know the answer#this is something ratio has said way more than once too#but maybe I feel like ratio asks to teach you how to think#and haitham asks because he'd prefer it if you didn't bother him#at the same time tho haitham will more easily hold your metaphorical hand when reaching a conclusion#while ratio will actively antagonize you just to make sure you're truly sure of what you're saying#it's the feeling they've been giving me#how do i say this#it's less their words and attitudes that are different since they match nearly perfectly#and more the intentions behind their words and attitudes#?#then again#I'm still investigating the hospital so this is just my initial understanding of haitham#maybe i got him completely wrong
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Thinking abt my dupe ocs again... Maybe Quinn does have hashtag issues actually
#rat rambles#oni posting#oc posting#theyre very well known and liked amongst all the colonies as y'know. they helped found all of them.#and theyve always been very friendly and kind and they have always taken their responsibilities incredibly seriously#and when they get time to be on a planet they relish it as they have a great deal of appreciation for the beauty of these worlds#but one thing that has always been a thing for them is that they've never rly had like. friends amongst these colonies#partially because of them having to travel constantly but even when they get time to hang out more theyve sort of unconsciously trained#themself to be a bit emotionaly detached from those around them#it also doesnt help that theyre a digger and usually one of like 2 or 3 on any given planetoid#which earlier on meant thar they rarely encountered other dupes and late on left then with little to do as most of the ongoing work was#already being managed by others specifically trained for the role#so the isolation started to get to them and they started to get rly antsy and didn't know why or how to fix it#when the printing pod went offline they were one of the ones more calm abt the matter due to them being generally more used to the unknown#and this combined with their general good reputation lead to a lot of dupes looking to them for direction and answers alongside burt#this actually made quinn feel rly good for a while since it was their excuse to actually talk to ppl regularly and in more personal ways#theyd hear out ppls anxieties and ideas and newest passions and goals and theyd actually feel like theyre hearing the words said#they liked the feeling of everyone wanting to be around them and seeking them out even on other planetoids#they'd get phone calls and people taking breaks from their work to come say hi and it made them feel real#but as time went on and their fellow dupes became more and more self reliant they began to seek them out less and less#because why bother someone so important and busy when you dont need to right?#and this lead to quinn going wait no why did you all leave me again :(#it felt like before but worse because now they actually had started considering a lot of these guys friends#and they still had no idea how to reach out themself without a work reason and as such they sorta started dissolving again#and its during this time when they start missing the pod and start to get more upset that shes gone#they end up returning to the original partially to be closer to her and partially because it feels the most like home to them#there they start to slowly learn to reach out themself as they sort of sit in a corner watching burt work while shaking like a small dog#this at first is very unwanted by burt who is stressed as hell but they end up forcing him to stick to an actual shift instead of just#working until he passes out and this allows them to hang out while they force him to have downtime with them to keep him from exploding#it becomes a nice comfort time for them both as they rly havent hung out much since the first like 100 cycles or so
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im fucking throwing up it's the parallels to s1ep2. it's the confusion it's not having doctors on hand it's the suits vs the kids it's marcia in the emergency room and kerry hearing logan's last words it's controlling the narrative it's shiv wanting to wait and kendall trying to be top dog and roman in denial denial denial and gerri saying FUCKING CHOWDER
#it's the same and it's so different oh my fucking god#the insults have no bite anymore it's a snake's chopped off head twitching on reflex#there's touching and comfort and 'what was it like for you?' and saying sorry#my posts#succession#succession spoilers#the fucking chowder line really threw me oh my god#bc that was such a long night. and so long ago. do they even realize they've said these words before. they've done this dance before.
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talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.
I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.
I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?
This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.
At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.
EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.
Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.
When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.
prezzemolo
I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.
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Someone watch season 3 of Somebody Somewhere and tell me if Sam remains the best aro/arospec rep I've ever seen or if they ruin it I'm scared
#aromantic#somebody somewhere#they've never said the word aromantic but every arc she has is so so aro coded it actually hurts#she's a 40+ yo woman who by her own words has never been in love before and doesn't even know what that would feel like#and the other queer rep is great!#her best friends are a gay man a trans man and a butch queer woman#and she's pretty explicitly NOT ace#even as an ace person i actually love that#bc aro without being ace is rep you truly never ever see
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im still thinking about that dressed as each other costume thing and it's driving me nuts that the person I would usually ask "is this a couple thing??" is the person I traded clothes with
#fanfic ass situation#and i absolutely can't ask them anything about their past(??) feelings(???) for me because they're in a serious relationship#with a monog person they started seeing a matter of days before i came over and happily announced (with sincere obliviousness)#that i had realized i miss making out and i was poly and going to start dating again#if they do/did indeed have feelings for me i owe them 100 sincere fucking apologies for that bit of timing and the failure to read the room#bro i am literally not self aware i don't get signals or know what i'm signaling at any given moment#which makes me honest (i like you so much! more than almost anyone!) but clumsy (didn’t realize you might like me more than anyone too)#it makes me a very bad friend to say it because they seem like their gf makes them happy and they've worked hard to let themself have it#and trust that it's something good#and i want and need to respect that#but i really fucking wish they'd broken up with their gf back in december when they were trying to#or i wish that M was poly instead of monog#or i wish i'd gone to therapy sooner to figure my shit out#or i wish they'd said 'living with you made me my best self' FIVE YEARS AGO instead of last month when they moved in with their gf#bc i'm starting to think i'd have everything i want if i could have s and live with both them and e#but i've had to realize this at a point where my dating life is incredibly fucking complicated#trying to get e to move in and having r say the L word and realizing i might have feelings for my taken best friend and flirting w some guy#and randos at the bar bc apparently i want attention and to be kissed but i can't have it#bc the girl in love with me is hundreds of miles away and my bestie who MIGHT. MIGHT want that isn't available and might never be#i never see myself as desirable so i never realize i might be a messy bitch until i remember#that i've had like 10 people hint at or explicitly state romantic interest in me since i was 18 and i am incapable of believing they mean it#and i think i hurt some feelings bc i lack the self esteem and self awareness to realize i even could hurt them#unbelievable.#no one who knew me in hs would believe it of me but i really am a messy bitch
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had a lot of fun last night listening to a new episode of one of my favorite podcasts that has my least favorite improviser as one of the hosts
they had a guest on that's an old friend of another one of the hosts and the 2 other hosts and the guest were running circles around this fool. it's probably the least this guy has spoken on an episode bc he simply couldn't keep up with these comedians who totally fell into lockstep with each other
i kinda felt bad for him but i also firmly believe that the reason this happened is because his improv technique is bad
#the show is always better when they record in person anyway and the last month or so they were doing that#they've been recording virtually since the pandemic and then one of the hosts moved to LA and it hasn't ruined the show#but it certainly makes the guy i dislike worse. like i said he's already bad at matching energy so he really needs to be in the same room#it's so frustrating to me bc they're never going to kick the guy off the show. it's his show#and his cohosts seem to really respect him and his comedy. which is baffling to me but that's their business#re-reading this before posting i guess i hadn't said that the guy refuses to match the energy of a scene#he's clearly SO in his head trying to be funny that he constantly sticks to easy jokes and word association even when it isn't funny#hea one of those guys that mid-show will halt the momentum of a good joke by saying 'that's a tshirt we should put that on a tshirt'#brother u've got to learn to appreciate the moment. it's funny right now it doesn't have be funny forever
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♪ WEST COAST. (💌) – next part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: soap accidentally finds out about simon's girl.
tags: fluff, romance, simon is a big baby !! let us all accept this fact, soap and his assumptions, uh bad jokes, very rushed fic, crack ?, reader can indeed fix simon
Soap isn't sure when his assumptions started, nor is he sure how it got to Gaz and Price himself.
Maybe it was when he started to notice that Ghost left base whenever he could. (How come ye never leave base? It's a hassle havin' to go back and forth for nothin', Johnny.) Maybe it was the smudged color of red and pink on his balaclava, the lingering perfume on his hoodie, or his new wallet taking the place of one that was once worn out.
"Wha's yer favorite perfume, LT?" "My enemies' sweat and tears."
(It's well-known that despite the fact that Ghost does consider the 141 to be his family, he keeps his personal life very private and away from them. They respect that, in turn, but let's face it, Soap is nosy.)
Really, it was an accident. Soap swears it was!
He just happened to be passing by his lieutenant in the bar where the team had all gone to celebrate a wreck of a mission that they've managed to successfully finish. Truly, it was an accident when his eyes caught a glimpse of Ghost's new wallet, and he really, very much so did not mean to watch a little too long – long enough for it to open and reveal a hefty amount of cash and a small square of colors, barely noticeable.
Soap's feet move before he could quietly search for more.
"Got a new wallet, aye?" He slides beside the taller man smoothly, just as the Brit had grunted out another order of Bourbon. Ghost hums in acknowledgement.
"Y'got a crush on me or somethin', Johnny?"
Soap chuckles even if the other does not. "A just happened tae see it. Fancy little thing."
It doesn't take long before Ghost disappears into the night, but the Scot swears his pace was a bit faster than usual when he left the awfully-smelling bar, and Gaz would be lying if he said he didn't see the little picture of a pretty bird tucked away in his scarily huge lieutenant's wallet.
It's not that Soap often makes bold assumptions about people and their personal lives, not when they're out of reach from him, but can you really blame him for thinking that the words 'Ghost' and 'girlfriend' do not sound right in the same sentence? Would it be considered an assumption this time if he'd seen the photo himself? Surely, his superior isn't some perverted freak who keeps an image of a breathtaking woman he randomly found in his private items. Uh, he hopes not, at least.
"Bullshit!" is what a drunken Soap yells when the Brit nonchalantly discloses to the team, without hesitation, that he is simply not interested in dating. He spills everything he's gathered in the past few months, from the smallest hints to the biggest; the unfamiliar strand of hair on Ghost's hoodie to the wallet from months ago.
"A'm no crazy!" Soap convinces no one as he's ushered back to the barracks for making such an insane assumption about the lieutenant in his unreliable state. Ghost's lips curl up into a smirk against the cold glass of Bourbon in his hand, sat back and relaxed with his legs spread wide.
Call him a big baby (he is) for making a fool out of his sergeant instead of just telling the truth and bragging about his angel to the others, but can you blame him? He just wants to keep you tucked away in his pocket, away from everyone else. What are you talking about, lovie? 'Course 'm not ashamed of you. You're just too pretty for them, is all. Gotta keep m' girl safe, yeah?
Besides, they don't have to know the way Simon melts into the nook of your neck when he gets home from deployment or know that he uses your lavender-scented shampoo. And no, it doesn't matter that Johnny knows. It's his word against the lieutenant's. He spares his LT and turns a blind eye this once.
When the time is right, Simon is sure to properly introduce his heart to his unspoken family. For the time being, he just wants to keep you his pretty little secret.
divider by @cafekitsune !
#౨ৎ simon !#୨୧ audi's works !#SUPER RUSHED but i wanted this out asap!!#might rewrite in the future#or add a new part#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost#cod x you#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare
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Blind reader x hashira + kokushibo? (since she's blind she doesn't know he's a demon?)
Please 🙃
Male hashira (+ Kokushibo) x Reader - Blindness is something I can overlook
author's note: fun fact, i am partially colorblind.
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: none
Tengen:
"i like these.." you told him, holding a small chain of jewelry in your hands. the man looked over your shoulder, a content hum leaving him.
normally, people wouldn't take a blind person to shop for accessories with them, but Tengen didn't seem to care. in fact, he had appeared quite eager to take you with him.
now here you were, trying to find a "flashy" - as he'd like to call it - accessory for him. not knowing how they looked, you decided to feel them instead.
some of them were lightly sharp, sure to leave small scratches on his skin. others were rounded and had a smooth surface. you preferred them over the sharp jewelry, but weren't happy with those either.
finally, when your hand brushed over diverse stones, you felt content with the jewelery you've found. it felt like a rope in your hand, but it was made out of small cold stones, which were the perfect mix of smoothness and sharpness.
they varied in size and shape, leaving a good impression on you. especially since they reminded you of the big stones on his headband. when you told him that you liked them, his eyes lit up.
"there's another one here." he said, taking the second chain into his hand. the cool color of the new accessory matched the pink diamonds he already wore.
"they're perfect, beautiful." he told you, giving the cashier a handful of money. he didn't wait to get the rest of his money back, too focused on the gift you've found him.
"are you just saying that or do you mean it?" you ask, yet you smiled right after, knowing that he was being honest when he talked to you.
"they're great - flashy. i'll make sure to wear them everywhere." he was already attaching them to the side of his headband, determined to keep his promise true.
yet you were only focused on the softness that had sneaked into his voice, showing his appreciation for the newfound treasure.
Obanai:
he didn't mind your blindness, welcomed it even. he would've never admitted it to you, never told you - knowing it would probably hurt your feelings.
but he felt it was better that way, better for you not to see him. he was hideous and he knew it.
so why, after years of insecurity, he allowed someone to see his state of weakness. his heart nearly sunk when you asked him to let you see him.
he had told you it wasn't important, that he just needed to be there for you, but you had insisted and he couldn't deny you a single wish.
now he held himself back from moving away, his heart beating faster as he saw your hands nearing his uncovered face.
yet the contrast of his feelings and the soft warmth of your touch left him puzzled. you were sitting right next to him, hands cupping his cheek. more importantly, your thumbs were carefully tracing over his scars.
he knew you could feel the difference under your thumb, could feel how different he was from other people. part of him had expected you to leave him after finding out how hideous he truly looked.
"you're beautiful.." you whispered, his eyes widening like they've never done before. he was left speechless by your words, swallowing down his fear to respond.
"you don't have to lie." he answered, voice unstable. he couldn't believe that someone could love him, not when he was like this.
"i wish i could see you with my eyes." his trembling hands touched yours, squeezing them just lightly. he knew how much those words meant, you had never spoken them out before.
and it wasn't only your wish. he could feel the desire to make you see swell up in his own chest. to imagine that he thought differently before - it felt stupid to him now.
Rengoku:
"open your mouth and close your eyes!" he instructed, making you halt.
did he just? he did not, right? ..right?
"Kyojuro..?" you carefully said his name, making the man answer with a hum. he still held his spoon in hand, having wanted to give you a bite of his food.
you raised your hand, waving it in front of your face. it took him a moment to catch on, realizing that his words had been stupid to the core.
"oh- i certainly didn't-" he stopped when he heard you snort, wide eyes watching you smile and laugh. his heart started beating faster, his cheeks flushing.
you clearly weren't mad or disappointed, but he felt embarrassed for forgetting something so obvious. the words slipped out of his mouth before he could even register it.
"it's fine, don't worry." you answered, putting a comforting hand on his. you leaned forward, taking the spoon into your mouth and chewing on the food before swallowing it down.
"is that sashimi? it's really good." you complimented, the note of wasabi still lingering on your tongue.
"do you want me to order some more?" he asked, turning his hand around to hold yours. you hummed, a small smile forming on your face.
days like these were your favourite - the perfect mix of romantic and silly.
Sanemi:
"it should be around here.." you mumbled, pulling the white haired man with you. his eyes were fixated on your surroundings, trying to figure out what exactly drove you towards this place.
"ah- can you smell it?" you gasped, turning your head towards the right, trying to pick up on the floral scent lingering in the air.
"no.." he answered, shaking his head lightly. no matter what he thought off, he couldn't come up with a reason why you'd bring him here.
nevertheless, his legs continued moving, not because he was necessarily interested, but because he wanted to make you happy.
that's why his eyes widened when you walked past multiple trees, reaching a giant flower field.
now he understood what you were talking about, the floral aroma enveloping his senses. he felt you letting go of his hand, leaning down to pick one of the flowers and smell on it.
the field was beautiful, full of the prettiest flowers he had ever seen. however, he realized that was a sight you'd never experience, slowly lowering himself in the grass next to you.
he took one of the flowers, mimicking your actions and breathing in it's scent. if you couldn't see what he was seeing, he could at least try experiencing the same as you.
"it's beautiful.."
Giyuu:
"like this." his voice was quiet, but it sounded much thicker and lower than the night's silence. he had asked you to show him your hand, but when you asked how, he guided it into the correct position.
your palm was facing him, fingers feeling the wind brush between them, teasing you with light touches and the surrounding silence.
you felt his hand on yours, his fingers brushing over your palm, gently drawing different forms onto your skin.
"it tickles.." you whispered, a quiet chuckle escaping you when he started tapping along your skin. a gentle huff escaped him, the one that made you know he was smiling.
"that's how i feel when i see you.." he answered, his hand finally pressing against yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle hold.
you silently scooted closer, the night's air sending a comfortable chill over your body. it didn't take him long to hold you closer, letting his body's warmth settle into your skin.
"you make me feel ticklish all around.. sometimes i worry i won't be able to think when i see you." he admitted, coaxing a smile out of you.
he didn't mind that you couldn't see, because he could see your beauty either way.
Gyomei:
some might say it would be ironic for two blind people to fall in love or befriend each other, but it certainly worked out for the two of you.
you admired his strength and he admired yours. truthfully, he hadn't noticed you at first, hadn't questioned why you used another weapon than the other demon slayers, but it all made sense when he found out about your blindness.
"this is your weapon of choice?" he had asked when the two of you joined a mission. he held a long rope dart in his hand - your treasure. Haganezuka had created the weapon for you.
the usually normal rope was made out of a thin chain, helping you coordinate throughout the fight. naturally, Gyomei who also used a special weapon, was intrigued by it.
"due to my lack of strength, it's the only suitable weapon for me." you answered, your fingers tracing over the axe he carried around with him. it was much heavier than your weapon, fitting for the man, who was much taller than you.
"it is a good choice indeed. i admire your critical thinking skills." he admitted, a smile displaying on his face.
and though you would sadly never see the happy look he'd give you in the future, you certainly liked the content tone of his voice.
Kokushibo:
he didn't remember his former loved ones. he didn't remember his wife. he didn't remember his child. their faces were a blur that he had created himself.
but you weren't. you were well. you were alive. he didn't need to remember the past when he could enjoy the presence with you.
his own human, the one he swore to protect. perhaps the gods have blessed him this time around, just like they had blessed his damned brother before.
the one person Kokushibo yearned to have just had to be a human. his surprise when he realized you weren't able to see was immaculate. he felt compassionate. and relieved.
"greetings.." the male spoke, stepping through the small gate of your house. the area was surrounded by wisteria, but like the gods had wanted him to find you, they left a small path for him.
"Kokushibo, it's you!" you smiled, standing up and letting go of the flowers in your hand. it took some time, but you managed to grow some in your garden.
the demon watched you move towards him, affectionately taking his hand like you've known each other forever. "you came back earlier this time."
"i happened to have a bit of free time.." he answered, low voice filling you with contentedness. while he made sure to look at you, his other eyes glanced at the garden.
the world could be dangerous for a blind person, but you've built your own small paradise between the rows of poisonous trees.
"let's get you inside, it's quite cold." you said, leading him towards the entrance of your very own home.
he wondered if he could keep up this facade of trust or if you would hate him after you've found out that the enemy stood in your house.
#kny#kny x reader#kny fluff#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu no yaiba fluff#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer fluff#tengen uzui#tengen x reader#obanai iguro#obanai x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#giyuu tomioka#giyuu x reader#gyomei himejima#gyomei x reader#kokushibo#kokushibo x reader
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Honey love, dark eyes
♡ Chapter one ♡
Summary: Joel Miller has been your best friend for four years, and your trust in him is as solid as ever. However, things go awry one night after a heated argument, and you find yourself in a position you never thought you'd be in: naked, underneath him, with his eyes devouring you like there's no tomorrow. And when you wake up the next morning, you know it right away, reality piercing your chest; things will never be the same again.
Word count: 9.4K
A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!
If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.
You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.
"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.
She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."
"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.
She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."
And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.
He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”
“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”
He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”
You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.
“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.
You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”
“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”
Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”
“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”
“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”
“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”
A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."
You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”
He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.
“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.
You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.
You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.
“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”
It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.
Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.
Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.
It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.
You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.
“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.
She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.
“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.
Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”
She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”
“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.
When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.
“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.
He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.
“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.
His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.
That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.
It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”
Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.
One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.
“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they���ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.
You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.
"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.
“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.
“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”
Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.
“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”
Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.
In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.
Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”
You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.
“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.
“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"
You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.
“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.
Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.
“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”
*
Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.
“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”
He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.
“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”
The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.
You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.
After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.
Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.
“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.
Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.
“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.
He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.
Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.
Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.
Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.
He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.
“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.
Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”
“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”
“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.
You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.
“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.
“How much did you pay for this?”
“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”
“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”
You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.
“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”
“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.
“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”
Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.
“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.
Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.
“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.
Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.
When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”
“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”
But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.
Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?
You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.
You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”
Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”
Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.
You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.
“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.
“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”
He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.
“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.
You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“So, what did you do last night?”
He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”
You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.
Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.
Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not.
It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.
“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”
He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.
“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.
After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”
The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.
“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”
Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”
“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.
“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.
“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”
Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.
“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”
You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”
He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.
After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.
“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.
“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”
He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”
And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.
“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”
He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”
“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”
He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.
“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.
His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”
Jealous. He thought you were jealous.
He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.
But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.
“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.
Honestly, he could go fuck himself.
Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.
“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.
You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.
“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.
He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”
“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”
He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.
You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”
Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”
Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.
Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.
“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”
You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”
“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.
Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.
“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”
“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”
He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.
“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”
“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”
Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.
His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”
“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.
He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”
“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.
The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.
“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”
Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.
But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.
Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”
His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.
“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.
But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.
“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”
You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.
His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.
“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.
The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.
But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.
With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.
He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.
Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.
Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.
You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all.
No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.
You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness.
His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.
In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.
You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.
“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.
“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.
His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.
His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.
Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.
His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.
He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.
Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.
“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.
You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.
He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.
“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.
He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.
“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.
His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”
You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.
“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.
From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.
Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.
You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.
His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.
With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.
He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.
Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.
Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form.
There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.
With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.
“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."
You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.
The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.
His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him.
You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him.
“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.
A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.
Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure.
A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.
You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.
And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?
“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”
You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.
His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.
Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.
He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.
He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...
No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.
When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.
Joel was gone.
taglist: @orcasoul
#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#tlou fic#tlou hbo#tlou joel#capuccinodoll#joel miller is your best friend#joel x reader#joel tlou#joel the last of us#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal joel#dbf!joel
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DPxDC Danny Is A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy
(not in a necessarily bad way and it's by Clockwork's design)
Bats, or Constantine, or the JL, or whoever you want to be close to Danny in this prompt, don't notice it right away. It takes them a while to figure out its not purely coincidence. And even after they do figure it out, they still have their doubts.
The thing is, it doesn't work all the time. It also doesn't seem to have a system or a schedule to it, nor is it any kind of a superpower, as far as they can understand. By God, does Danny have way too many superpowers, but most of them are consistent, and yet this one... is weird. Weirder than anything they've seen before, and they've seen a lot, okay.
It also only works if Danny does it without thinking.
"You know what'd be perfect right now? A cheese sandwich," Danny says over the comms, in the middle of the fight with Dr. Freeze, "A warm, grilled cheese sandwich just out of the toas- Owch, what?" There's a pause. And then, "Guys, you're not gonna believe it, a cheese sandwich just smacked me in the face! I think someone threw it out of the window or something!" Danny sounds bewildered, but excited, and there's a sound of chewing from his comm now. At least he is eating, so that's good.
"I fucking hate robots," he grumbles the other day, punching his way through the Brainiac invasion in Metropolis, with no comm and only for the Supes to overhear, "No, correction, I hate only evil robots. The ones that interrupt my astronomy class. The ones that shoot motherfucking lasers and walk like crabs, and ruin a perfect day, and- I wish- aw, fuck, no, that's bad wording. Don't wish for shit. But if all these robots would just suddenly, miraculously malfunction and stop attacking me and the whole city, that would be, like, real nice of them."
A few minutes later, something goes wrong with the Brainiac's control over the army of robots, and all of them just stop moving and fall down at once. It is deemed as a chance, a lucky shot, a coincidence. Supes keeps quiet over what he heard Danny say.
"Oh, you bitch-ass fruitloop, you know what I want?" Danny yells at Plasmius, as the ghost is laughing like a madman, "I want a fucking brick to fall down right on your head, like, right now! Maybe that can set your brains straight for at least five minutes!" And even before he is finished talking, there's something falling down from the sky and hitting Plasmius's head. It's not a brick, to be exact, it's Miss Martian's shoe, though. She has no idea how it even came undone and fell from her foot. But it did somehow knock Plasmius out cold, so there's that.
It doesn't happen all the time. Red Robin does the math - the improbable accidents only happen in about 26% of the situations, given that Danny says something. It's by no means a reliable power. It also doesn't happen only during the fights: there were numerous times when Danny just said something like 'I wonder if the cafeteria serves garlic bread today' and sure enough, there's garlic bread there. Even if it was not on the menu. Ever.
They try to question Danny himself, but he has no idea. He doesn't even notice the coincidences most of the times - which is not surprising, knowing that they only happen in one out of four situations and Danny is known to have a short attention span. So, after a few unsuccessful investigations and failed attempts at calculating how this even works, they all give up. It has never jinxed anything, as far as they know, so everyone just leaves it be.
Danny is just magically lucky like that.
Meanwhile, Clockwork is having a good laugh about it. Danny's suggestions amuse him, and it's funny to watch the other superheroes having a mental breakdown over it, so he rigs the timeline from time to time. Just a little.
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#batman#superman#justice league#clockwork#danny is a lucky little shit#and yet he has no idea he is#or maybe he does and he just plays dumb in front of everyone#feel free to add your own improbable accidents caused by Danny#or just anything at all#cork writes#cork prompts#prompt
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youtube
NME in Conversation with RADWIMPS
#radwimps#nme#interview#music#音楽#weird rock lovers :')#ok but big emphasis on what he said about not being able to define them in one word#in fact a fan in the recent altpress article mentioned it too as one of the reasons she fell in love with their music#they have such a wide range & expansive discography#when i was sitting in line before the radwimps concert someone approached me & asked about them#what kind of music do they make etc#and i had to pause for a sec bc i was like 'well they're a japanese rock band... but they do a bit of everything!'#and as he began listing off genres i went 'yep! uh-huh! they do that too!'#like !!!!#they are always pushing limits & trying new things#collaborating with other artists (even though it's rare in japan apparently!)#i know they've answered the question about how they found toaka several times#but the way she was chosen simply for the passion & soul in her voice#(when i told my mom about it & how it jump started toaka's career she literally got sniffly/teary-eyed & honestly same)#also that comment by shinkai-san about 'two wheels of the same bicycle' 😭#the exchange of ideas & constant adjustments in both music/animation is so interesting to hear about#also! on the subject of collaborations#possibly with foreign artists??#whomst might they be i wonder 👀#OH AND !!!!#大団円 finally out 7/4 !!!!!! 🙌#i'm so excited !!!!!!!!!#the cover art looks sick as does the visual they released on youtube#i'm so happy they're able to tour at long last & hope they're having a great time on the blt#the flags at each show have been so cute 🥹
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