#for the first time in my life im having to like

[awrkive]

[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.

the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you. 

alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”

PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)

TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words

WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')

NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me��” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼

[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

RELEASE DATE 2025, FEBRUARY 15TH | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)

They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started? 

Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton. 

When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are. 

Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair. 

Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread. 

You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.

You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar. 

But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes. 

“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?” 

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice. 

You stir your coffee with downturned lips.

“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.” 

Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab. 

“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.” 

You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee. 

But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent. 

Most especially when it comes to annoying you. 

A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you. 

“Did you know that—” 

You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god— 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—” 

“—we’re like parallel lines?” 

“What.”

“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay. 

Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.

You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head. 

“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.

“Come on, entertain me a little.” 

You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it. 

“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive. 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again. 

“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”

“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing. 

Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.” 

Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.

“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.” 

He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings. 

You catch yourself right at that moment.

Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute. 

Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.

As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself. 

He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks. 

Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.

You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—

Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am. 

And you were saying something about lines…

“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle. 

The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips. 

In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back. 

In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger. 

“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar. 

With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo. 

“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction. 

Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile. 

She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.

Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.

Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle. 

His day is already off to a good start.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2025. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and/or translating any of my works are not allowed.

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)

I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.

I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅

Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)

Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)

Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.

You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.

They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.

You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.

You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.

They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.

You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.

It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.

You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.

You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.

You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.

"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"

Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"

"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."

Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.

Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.

You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.

And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.

"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.

You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."

They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"

He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."

You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."

John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.

You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.

At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.

You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.

You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.

"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.

"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."

"Then what?" Simon asks.

You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."

John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."

Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."

At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.

You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.

Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.

Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.

"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."

"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.

"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.

He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.

"I'm sure love."

He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.

He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.

"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."

You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"

Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.

The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."

You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."

"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.

"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.

[ghostykapi]

twice and the ways to say i miss you when they are touring

im nayeon

i’m sorry but you must endure the one thousand kisses once she gets back or she will cry

demands with pouts and that cute voice that makes you cave in

what? the tour is amazing but after being weeks apart from her lover can make her do weird things (ask jeong or jihyo, they can confirm)

she’s got a whole bottle of your perfume/fragrance to cope with a your jacket so it feels like you’re always there giving her a hug

but now that she’s back >:)))

will 100%, with no miss at all, pin you down every morning to snuggle and kiss you despite your whines of you trying to be a bit early to work

oh you work from home? better make sure you work fast or she will distract you with those hands 😋 no escape for you

yoo jeongyeon

constant video calls to keep her grounded but it’s never enough to make her feel that 100% energy boost

lowkey losing it but to her members they can see how miserable she can get when you aren’t there

sorry she’s like this but she just really really needs your cuddles right now and the fact that you’re so far away makes it so so so mean :((

she manages with the polaroids of both of you that she brings everywhere

of course she won’t pressure you but good lord you also don’t know what to do without her close to you at most nights

and that’s why you’re always with her on tour once you can start working remotely, always either disguised as the “manager/staff” or straight up out to the world that you’re her lover

hirai momo

misses you and her children (read: her dogs) that when she fatetimes you she’s abt to sob

“my babies!” she says everytime you go on call and boo and dobby are with you

clings unto sana to cope (both of them are coping together through the power of friendship!!!)

one time she managed to convince all of twice to get food at 4 am to cope??? anyway yeah so there they were at 4 am at a taco cart munching away with like two other managers

everytime she comes home she brings you snacks and treats and spends most of her time with you and her dogs

minatozaki sana

on the outside she’s calm cool collected a lil flirty

in the inside she’s screaming fighting for her LIFE because wdym you aren’t a phone call away from her to cling unto you huh

clings unto her members for moral support and they always send pictures of her clinging to you (THROUGH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP)

buys you jewelry that she thinks looks good on you and copes with that information until she lands back home

pouncing on you the moment you see her come down from the van in front of your apartment/home

“baby!!!” she screams as she clings unto you like a koala and she’s abt to make you both fall over

sorry she’s never letting you go

you are now the latest personal bodyguard of sana for the next couple of days btw (she likes them a lil possessive)

park jihyo

she can fairly cope well for the first few days but she can feel bits of her cracking when she doesn’t get your dose of cuddles

copes by also stealing your jacket but she actually steals two so she can have two styles ready that has a piece of you with her

always playing with the necklace you got for her on your 9th date with her or with the keychain on her bag that you got on a random day proclaiming that yes that sleeping bear keychain reminded you of jihyo because both her and the keychain look cute

she’s always so busy even when she gets home so she never really gets to release that want to just be alone with you

but holds you so close and so tight when both of you are sleeping to feel calm and to convey the feelings she always has for you

myoui mina

doesn’t show it to anyone, even you, that she’s abt to break bc she misses you so much

copes with buying trinkets that remind her of you so she ends up coming home from tour

half of her big suitcase is trinkets, someone stop her

you always end up sorting the trinkets and like dedicating a space in your home for it. when she comes back you both take the time to add it to the collection together

you know those apps for u to use to signal you miss your lover yeah well mina didn't take long to convince you to download it

is that another damn trinket

kim dahyun

the most sane one in twice

she always takes you out on dates back before the tour starts so she uses those memories to cope + regular calls with you despite time differences always helps

writes yearning songs all the damn time

YEARNING IN SONG WRITING!! THAT DAMN NOTEBOOK IS ALMOST FULL SHE'S ABOUT TO BUY ANOTHER

when she returns from tour, she cherishes the most domestic things with you

case and point she fell so much harder for you when you were both just doing chores, humming the songs blasting from your speakers

son chaeyoung

shut up wdym nonchalant?? no. clingy gf realness

she is OBSESSED WITH YOU there is no way this woman won't lose it when you are not with here in tour

but your work is important so she won't pull you away

though i bet you half of her wardrobe is your clothes with your perfume smothered on them

twice members complain at how much she's always missing u, yearning for u, talking about u, yapping abt u

it's the rest of twice that begs for you to come with them the next tour to shut her up

she does not shut up but you get to distract her by kissing and it always works

chou tzuyu

her? missing you? why should she miss you when she can just bring you along??????????

only member to actually think about it and put it to action the moment you both started to become official

it took so much convincing, and like you had to also be a part of staff lowk

like who is holding the cam for her vlogs?? you babes it's you

sometimes the other members also ask for your help but honestly you don't mind and tzuyu gets to film you too sometimes so like yay bonding activities

kisses backstage!!! KISSES BACKSTAGE TZUYU CHEERED

[semisasseater]

But I'm overwhelmed with jealousy

Jealous! Se-mi x fem! reader

Summary: jealous gf se-mi headcannons!

Tw: jealous, possessive, aggression, intimation, killing/sabotaging players (didn’t get into detail), light hearted threats, se-mi is down BAD, se-mi wants readers attention, physical touch, humor + exaggeration (the kid part.) swearing and snarky remarks.. (kinda?) let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: can you see this is an enhypen reference? (the name of the fic and the pictures used..) dyk i actually name all my fics after my favorite artists (enhypen, illit, and ariana grande?!) also im gonna cry i miss my wife gabby but she’s doing SCHOOL. gonna sob

Not proofread!

Word count: 531

Jealous! Se-mi x Reader Headcanons

• Se-mi isn’t the type to openly admit she’s jealous, but the moment she feels threatened, her entire demeanor changes. Her eyes darken, her body stiffens, and her jaw clenches ever so slightly.

• She has a sharp resting glare, so sometimes people don’t even realize she’s fuming with jealousy—until she makes a snarky remark under her breath.

• If she sees someone getting too comfortable around you, she’ll silently step closer, standing just a little too protectively beside you, as if she’s reminding them who you belong to.

When a Kid Compliments You:

• You two were just casually walking down the street when a little kid looked up at you and innocently said, “Wow! You’re really pretty!”

• Before you could even react, you felt the air change—Se-mi went completely silent.

• You turned to see her standing still, her eyes darkened, lips pressed into a thin line. Instant panic.

• “Oh nononono, Se-mi! You’re not gonna hurt the child—he just complimented me!” you blurted out, quickly stepping in front of her.

• She scoffed, shaking her head. “You think I’d actually fight a kid?”

• …You weren’t sure. Because the way she was looking at that child made you think she just might.

• The poor kid, oblivious to the tension, just giggled and ran off. Meanwhile, you spent the next five minutes calming Se-mi down, reassuring her that even toddlers weren’t competition for her.

When Another Player Flirts With You in the Game:

• Se-mi is not subtle when another player tries flirting with you.

• She immediately steps between you and them, fixing them with a cold, unreadable stare.

• “Keep your eyes on the game, not my girlfriend” she says flatly scaring the other player away.

• If they don’t get the message, she doesn’t mind “accidentally” knocking into them during red light green light or making their life slightly more difficult.

• One time, Player 230 “jokingly” said, “Damn, Y/N, if we make it out of here, you should go on a date with me instead.”

• Se-mi didn’t say a word—she just gave him a look that made him rethink and question what he said then he takes what he said back.

Random Moments of Jealousy:

• Eye Contact? Nope. If someone so much as stares at you too long, Se-mi will stare back—until they get so uncomfortable they look away first.

• Physical Touch? Absolutely Not. If someone puts a hand on your shoulder or leans in too close, she’ll immediately pull you toward her with zero hesitation.

• Possessive Gestures. She often rests her hand on your waist, gives you her jacket, or calls you “mine” loud enough for others to hear.

• When she’s feeling particularly territorial, she’ll kiss you in front of others—just to make it crystal clear who you belong to.

When You Reassure Her:

• Sometimes, her jealousy is unreasonable, and you know it.

• “Se-mi, do you really think I’d leave you for a random stranger?”

• She crosses her arms and looks away, muttering, “I don’t like people thinking they have a chance.”

• You can’t help but smile and grab her hand, pulling her close.

• “You’re the only one for me, dummy.”

• She doesn’t respond, but you see the corner of her lips twitch—and that’s how you know she’s secretly pleased.

Overall:

• Se-mi is undeniably protective and territorial, but she trusts you enough not to lash out unless absolutely necessary.

• She won’t always voice her jealousy, but she’ll make sure everyone knows you’re hers in one way or another.

• Despite her sharp and intimidating nature, she secretly just wants reassurance that you love her as much as she loves you.

• And honestly? You think it’s kinda cute—as long as she doesn’t actually try to start a fight with a child again.

@semisasseater

[lucygraysboy]

“my ma had once attempted to teach me when i was little, but i was too rambunctious to be able to focus on knitting for more than fifteen minutes. promise i’m a lot more patient now,” the cowboy laughs, pale blue eyes taking in the look on lucy gray’s face, hypnotized. these doe-like hues will be the death of him. all the kindness that’s buried deep inside her chest seems to be shining right through, making him feel so mushy and warm on the inside. she truly deserves the world, and he’ll do everything in his power to give it to her. “speakin’ of songs… was you singin’ a song when i first saw you? i was so exhausted and dehydrated, it’s all so blurry now but i thought i was at the gates of heaven and an angel was welcomin’ me with a song. what were you singin’ ‘bout?” he wonders out loud, just now reminded of the moment he first laid eyes on her. he was so out of it, and now he can barely tell what really happened and what’s only a figment of his imagination. “thanks for thinkin’ so. i didn’t want ‘im to be no outlaw. i wanted ‘im to have an honest job an’ a good life.” but now that joe’s gone, billy can’t help but wonder if maybe he was a little too hard on the boy, expected too much of him. “always. well, except for the time i went and beat up her husband ‘cause he kept makin’ her cry, bringin’ no money home, stealin’ hers… spendin’ it all in brothels and saloons. she told me to leave ‘im be, but i couldn’t.” his pride and honor and the love he had for her wouldn’t let him. 

“yeah? good ‘cause i would never.” boss her around. he thinks that’s how it should be — men should listen to women more often, they’d benefit from that. “i’m mr. sugar bucket sweet potato, and you’re miss birdie boo little carrot,” he laughs, not caring the names make little to no sense. it’s the thought and affection that counts. “i mean, i kind of understand. if i was a goat, i wouldn’t let no strange cowboy near my udders either. i’d kick ‘im in the head.” expression softening as she touches his cheek, his heart melting into a puddle, making it difficult for him to focus on anything but the way her hand feels so nice and somehow soothes the sunburn on his skin. “i’m hungry, too. it’s ‘cause of that lake. water always makes you hungry, is what i’ve noticed.” he follows her back outside, where the last rays of the setting sun have painted the porch a warm, golden hue. it’s a little more humid now, but the wind remains pleasant, lacking its bite. he lays the potatoes down on the table and takes a seat opposite to her, just so that he can admire her beautiful features in this light. if he only could paint, he’d paint her like this. “this is real nice. this table, i mean. beautiful carpentry.” he praises, but what he actually means is this, the two of them doing something so mundane together after a long, fun day, is nice. he wouldn’t mind spending every afternoon for the rest of his life doing this. “i don’t know if i’ve ever told you this, but i’m a very experienced potato-peeler. it was always my job to peel ‘em when i was little,” he brags with a smile, his hands, rough and calloused moving with practiced ease, as if peeling potatoes was as natural as roping a steer to him. 

"that's exactly why i was thinkin' it'd be good to teach you." he already read her mind, she was thinking it could be useful when he sets out on his own. a shy smile spills over kind visage at being called sweet, of course she remembered. and of course each time he says another sweet thing, it flushes her in a warm sensation of love. fills that void and all the hurt that being talked down to by the preacher that has carved a hole in her chest with, a little at each time. "course i think so. poem's are beautiful. poem's are a lot like songs... and i do love writin' songs." speaking fondly, smiling affectionately. "well, for some reason i think that's cute," lucy gray laughs, the part about bossing his brother around because he wanted to take good care of him. "and at least you listened to your mother." so safe to say, she finds that cute too. putting a cute grin on her face because it's adorable he was stubborn but still so respectful to his mama. "i'm just playin' with you, billy. i don't think you would." a gentle expression softens her features as she peers up at him, after handing him his armful of vegetables. "you're a sweet potato." since they're holding potatoes, small laugh emitting.

hand reaches up to gently pat his cheek, he's so cute, he's gotta stop being that cute in personality and his eyes are too big and pure for her heart to handle. "it's best i do that, anyway. she really is picky with that. she might really try to bite you if you grab on her udders." the brunette laughs, but genuinely feels bad for shamus for being scarred by men. "i'm hungry." amusingly replying, scooping out an armful of carrots next before shutting the lid back. "alright, let's go." grabbing a pan, she leads them back out of the house and off the porch and climbs onto the picnic table's seat before dumping her vegetables on the table top and sitting the pan down. she's got a knife sitting in the middle, she goes ahead and grabs that and starts cutting.

[gumii-bearr]

idea maybes

academic rival/nerd satoru… him acting all high and mighty and then is an utter virgin (but you are tew so you too together are hopeless)

YESSSSSSSS HAHAHAHA

thinking about... ❝ hopeless nerds ❞

featuring... satoru gojo

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, nerd!virgin!gojo, nerd!virgin!reader, academic rivals, two dorks, gojo is such an asshole, smut, creampie, praise kink, masturbation, inexperienced dorks tryna bang, dare i say crybaby dom gojo, sexual tension, somnophilia, sexually frustrated nerds

author's note: im sorry i haven't posted in a while!!!! my town has flooded and we've lost power a few times and i can't leave my house :,)

── nerd!gojo immediately pissing you off the moment he opens his fucking mouth.

── nerd!gojo who shares a few classes with you and he's always talking over you, has to prove your points wrong even when you back them up with facts and research.

── he does it to make you mad, you know he does. he does it because it's so easy to make you mad and it's fucking cute how your nose scrunches and how you fold your arms over your chest and give him the cold shoulder the rest of the lesson.

── "fuck you, satoru."

── "oh you wish, sweetheart."

── nerd!gojo who purposely sits next to you in class because he knows his presence drives you up the wall.

── he points out holes in your research, steals your pens off your desk, leans on your shoulder and stays there no matter how much to elbow his side, there is no peace with him.

── nerd!gojo who is tied for best grade in the class with none other than you. and fuck it makes him mad, though he would never admit it.

── nerd!gojo who teases you when you're even a single point behind him when you get your grades back.

── nerd!gojo who never hears the end of it when you do better than him on a test or essay.

── nerd!gojo who may find you annoying, but he also finds your competitiveness and smart-ass demeanour fucking hot.

── you're the only person to ever one-up him. give him a run for his place as the smartest guy in class.

── you're single-handedly his motivation to do better in class. not because he wants to, but because he needs to win.

── you're so smug when you win and you're so hot-headed when you don't. he starts to find it fucking confusing when you bicker with him or insult his intelligence and he finds it... hot.

── you could be calling him every colourful name under the sun and he would just stand there and take it with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and his eyes peeking over his sunglasses and staring at your pretty lips.

── nerd!gojo who is also virgin!gojo, which you would never have guessed with how he holds himself– always so outwardly confident and always has soooo much to say.

── virgin!gojo who has maybe kissed two girls his whole life, forced to hole himself up in his dorm and fist his cock when he's so beyond frustrated.

── virgin!gojo who finds himself starting to think about... you.

── virgin!gojo who thinks about burying his virgin cock inside you, fucking you stupid on his cock since you always seem to have something to say.

── you find it fucking weird when he doesn't shoot back with a sarcastic comment one morning, his eyes unable to meet yours.

── now you know something's wrong because it always makes gojo's day when he sees your face flush and watches you stomp around all angry and annoyed at him.

── virgin!gojo who doesn't know what to do when he's cornered by you in the library, and for the first time, he sees you be genuine toward him.

── "aw, you care about me."

── "you know what? forget it."

── virgin!gojo who knows he needs to just shut his big mouth for once and he finally does– by slamming you against the closest bookshelf and messily kissing you like his life depends on it.

── virgin!gojo who realises he's super out of practice when it comes to kissing... or maybe you're both bad.

── virgin!gojo who panics when he gets you back to his dorm room, clumsy fingers pulling your clothes off while you nervously pull at his.

── it's slow and it's messy and there's very obviously an elephant in the room that neither of you want to address.

── but you finally bite the bullet.

── "i'm a virgin."

── "you telling me no one's ever wanted to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you?"

── "don't piss me off."

── virgin!gojo who admits he too is a virgin.

── the two of you acknowledge that there's been a sexual tension brewing between you two for a while... so maybe you should just fuck it out.

── virgin!gojo who sinks to his knees, throwing your thighs over his shoulders and pressing his curious tongue against your soaked slit.

── no one's ever touched you like that– you're getting riled up just seeing him between your thighs.

── virgin!gojo who is finally fucking quiet and lets you show him when you guide him on how to finger you. you show him where to touch you, how to touch you, where to lick and suck on you.

── and virgin!gojo who listens and he's a fast learner because he wants to please you.

── and when virgin!gojo finally sinks his huge fucking cock inside you. you nearly fucking scream.

── and virgin!gojo who has no idea he's big. no one's ever seen his cock, or felt it. he's had nothing to compare it to–

── "you're so fucking big."

── "oh, yeah? you like it, baby?"

── virgin!gojo who didn't think he'd like dirty talk as much as he does. but he likes how you whine and moan just from his voice, how he can rile you up and have you soaking his dick and the sheets just from telling you what a good girl you are.

── but also virgin!gojo who is a fucking whiner when he's getting close to his high. your virgin cunt is so warm and tight, he's never experienced such fucking bliss.

── he's whining about how good you feel, how he's never felt something so fucking mind-blowing. he just keeps fucking talking cus if he doesn't he's gonna cum.

── and virgin!gojo who fucking cries when he cums because he's on cloud fucking nine. his hips slap erratically, his thrusts are shallow and fast as he approaches his high and his fists curl into the sheets by your head to keep him grounded.

── and you just wrap your arms around his neck, hold him close as he breathes in your intoxicating scent, arms wrapped around you as he keeps his cock buried inside you alongside the ropes of cum he messily spilled inside you.

── and nerd!gojo who keeps his cock buried inside you all night, unable to part from your tight warmth.

── and you don't mind, you just pet his hair and tell him how good he did.

── and of course, nerd!gojo who wakes you up with quiet breathes by your ear, his hips slapping against your plush ass because he can't get enough of you.

── nerd!gojo who makes it his mission to make you cum. obsessed with watching you fall apart on his tongue and his fingers, or on his cock or his thigh.

── really just nerd!gojo who finds out a lot about himself and is no longer virgin!gojo because of you.

author's note: someone bring me a NERD RIGHT NOW

permanent taglist: @exclusiverinaa @starpachinko @kentotism @gumisueme @arcanefeelings @cyslips @sojumamii @naammiii @jvpit3rr @nvvxlaya @2ukika @ashyiiy @jud3thedude @antiblfanon14 @capsule-losing-contact @mrs-okkotsu222 @somethinglikero @raya4643 @julieannah @arasakaa @luciferslover @re-tired-succubus @xastoriaaurax @girlexpensive @sobbingscripter @bakuhoe37 @doechiiyz @evergumi @showtimejoseph @kimkimoruo

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

i was lost within the darkness but then i found her; i found you. - k. yukimiya

synopsis: a man who couldn’t find purpose in his life and the woman who brought each of them meaning.

a/n: i was lowkey thinking of meruem and komugi the whole time i was making this.

yukimiya kenyu

yukimiya didn’t know what he was supposed to do now.

he clutched the papers from the doctor, walking to the nurse’s office at school for the information to be added to his profile at school. he walked with no emotion upon his usually jubilant and beautiful face, and it was as if all of the light had been sucked from his eyes.

“yukimiya?”

yukimiya looked up, and you stood in front of him, holding a few boxes in your hands. you were probably helping your teacher with moving things again.

yukimiya was fairly fond of you. you were kind and quick on your feet, and yet you always gave helpful, honest advice to your more delusional friends. he enjoyed being around you more than anything else at school. “oh, hello. how’s your day been going?” yukimiya asked, painting a smile over his frown on his face.

your eyebrows knit together. yukimiya recognized that look; his mother always had that look in his childhood whenever he had been crying and hid the fact from her. she always caught on quickly. “you seem upset, are you okay?” you placed your boxes on the floor next to you before walking closer to him, your head tilting slightly as you looked at him.

and as if water began overflowing in a glass after barely having not reach the point of spilling yet, tears began to spill from yukimiya’s eyes.

fat, warm tears stained yukimiya’s cheeks wet, and snot began leaking from his nose. if any of yukimiya’s fans had seen him like this, his modeling career and their crush on him would be over. but instead of looking at him with your face scrunched up in disgust from his current expression, you instead had him sit down with his back to the wall as you sat down next to him.

“what happened?” you asked, your voice soft. you assumed that it had to do with his eye and soccer career; after all, he got glasses even though he didn’t have them previously, and soccer was practically his whole life. yukimiya sniffled before looking at you.

“optic neuropathy,” yukimiya whispered. “there are black spots in my vision. treatment will help, but not fully cure it. worse case scenario, it causes blindness. the doctor said that i probably won’t be able to play soccer professionally anymore.” yukimiya sniffled again before he wiped his tears away, laughing.

“look at me. complaining to you about it even though it’s not even your problem. you should be helping the teacher, right? sorry, i know this is your free period and im not a very crier—“ before he could continue on with his idiocy, you grabbed his face in between both of your hands and faced him, your eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

“yukimiya kenyu,” you began, voice grave. your face darkened before your gentle cradle on his face turned into a stinging pinch. “first of all, i could care less about this being my free period. we still have months of school left, and that means hundreds of more free periods. second, no one cares that you’re an ugly crier! everyone ugly as shit when they’re sobbing and their face is all scrunched up when they’re bawling. you should’ve seen me when i read the chapter that gojo died!”

at your last comment, you could see yukimiya hold in a chuckle, which proved your effort worthy. “and also, maybe you won’t become the best forward in the world. maybe you really will become blind because of soccer. maybe all of your efforts wouldn’t have been worth it in the end. but yukimiya, i hope you know and realize that the result may be important, but…” you stopped your pinching, and you held his face as if you were holding the most precious and beautiful glass vase. “sometimes the joy of the process itself overshadows what was thought to be the joy that comes from the result.”

yukimiya’s eyes widened, and suddenly, a fresh batch of tears came to his eyes. but this time, it wasn’t of sadness. this time, warmth bloomed in his chest when the tears came. this time, his mind was clear of the negative thoughts when the tears came. and this time, instead of his vision being blurred by tears, his vision was being cleansed by the light right in front of him: you.

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee

fluffy Joel drabble to help clear my head. I was a barista for 8+ years and loved my regulars, so this is like a little slice of my life when I worked for a family owned coffee shop in the downtown of a city. Hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a ptII cause im thinking hot car sex w these two after their first date.

Inspired by that tlou (game) scene where Ellie asks if Joel used to go to coffee shops, and he admits, ‘All the time.’ And when she asks what he would order, he says, ‘Coffee, just coffee’ 

Vanilla latte, iced—extra pump of vanilla, three pumps of caramel, swirl, whipped cream. Chai latte, soy milk—hot, extra hot. Cold brew with sweet cream, shot of peppermint. London Fog—extra foamy, not too hot.

"Coffee. Just coffee."

You could’ve kissed him right then and there. And he was handsome enough that you wouldn’t even have to close your eyes. He must’ve caught the way your shoulders relaxed, how the sigh left your body like a weight lifted.

“Comin’ right up,” you smiled, ringing him up as he slid a few ones into your very, very empty tip jar.

‘Just Coffee’ guy settled at the small bar along the window, joining the usual morning stragglers—people who took their time with their warm mugs, occasionally ordering a bagel or a scone to go with it. He sat next to your crossword regular, an older gentleman who always had a puzzle in front of him, filling in the blanks with unwavering confidence. Always pen, never pencil.

You left them to it, but your eyes drifted toward ‘Just Coffee’ now and then, making sure his mug wasn’t too low, wasn’t getting too cold.

The morning flew by in a blur of orders and chatter, the shop filling and emptying in waves. By the time you checked back on ‘Just Coffee’ guy, he was gone.

A pang of disappointment sat low in your stomach. You wished you would’ve gotten him talking—he had that air about him, the kind of presence that carried stories. The people who sat at your bar top, the ones who weren’t rushing in and out for their nine-to-five caffeine fix, were always the most interesting.

You were surprised to see him the next day. A smile lifted at his lips as he stepped up in line, cash at the ready in his large, dirt-greased hands. A man who worked manual labor, clearly.

"Coffee," he said, his twang deep and velvety. "Just coffee, miss."

"You got it," you said with a smile, handing him a warm mug of your house roast as he took his new usual seat at the bar.

"Dammit—" the man next to him muttered, scratching his chin with the tip of his pen. Steve, your crossword regular. Under his nose, the day’s puzzle sat partially filled in, his brow furrowed in frustration. “What in the hell is the ‘process of leveling or smoothing wet concrete’? Seven letters?" He called your name, exasperated. "You got any idea?”

"Steve, if I knew anything about construction, I’d be way further along on my home improvement projects," you called over the hiss of the milk frother.

"Screedin’ is the word you’re lookin’ for, I think."

‘Just Coffee’ spoke casually, like it was second nature, his voice rolling low behind the lip of his mug. Steve blinked at him, like he hadn’t even realized the man was there, his wide eyes darting between him and the crossword.

"I think that might just work! How do ya spell that now? S-C-R-E—"

"S-C-R-E-E-D-I-N-G," ‘Just Coffee’ said slowly, the drawl thick and steady as the letters tumbled off his tongue.

You smiled to yourself, glancing his way. Knew he had to be manual labor. But before you could turn and ask him about it, he was already stepping off the stool, giving a quick nod of thanks, and heading for the door.

A couple of ones landed next to his empty mug—more than the cost of his coffee.

He didn’t come the next day.

Or the day after that.

By the fourth morning, you caught yourself lingering by the bar, staring at the empty stool where he sat. The coffee shop was just as busy, orders coming in waves, regulars dropping their change into the tip jar, Steve grumbling over his crossword. But something was missing.

You’d gotten used to those hazel eyes meeting yours across the counter, the quiet weight of his presence. The way his dark, unruly hair framed his face, always a little windswept, a little messy, like he’d rolled straight out of bed and into a long shift. His hands—rough, calloused, dirt still lingering in the creases—wrapped steady around a warm coffee mug.

It had only been a handful of mornings, but somehow, he’d settled into your routine like he belonged there.

And now, the absence of him gnawed at you in a way that surprised you.

You should’ve asked him his damn name.

By the sixth day, you convinced yourself it didn’t matter. He was just another customer, just a passing figure who needed a caffeine fix before moving on. Maybe he found a different coffee spot. Maybe he’d never been the type to stick around anyway.

But on the seventh morning, as you wiped down the counter, movement by the door caught your eye.

You turned, heart kicking up against your ribs.

There he was.

Another worn flannel, same dirt-streaked hands, same heavy-lidded gaze scanning the shop like he hadn’t been gone for a week. And when those hazel eyes finally landed on you, a flicker of something warm and familiar crossed his face.

You pushed off the counter before you could stop yourself.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” you said, trying to sound casual, but you knew he could hear the lilt of amusement in your voice.

“How are ya, miss?” he drawled, stepping up to the counter, cash already in hand. “Been busy.”

You nodded, trying not to stare too long at the way his fingers curled around the worn bills. “Let me guess—coffee, just coffee?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You got it.”

As you poured, you finally asked the question that had been itching at you since the first day he walked in.

“You got a name, or am I just supposed to keep callin’ you ‘Just Coffee’ forever?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as he watched you.

“Joel,” he said.

You smiled, setting his mug down in front of him. “Well, Joel—hope you don’t disappear on me again.”

His fingers brushed the warm ceramic as he settled onto his usual stool. “Jobs come and go, just depends on the day, hunny.”

Hunny. It was damn near like honey dripping from his tongue in that slow drawl, thick and warm. The way it rolled off his lips curled low in your belly, heating your cheeks as you turned to the next customer, hoping to God he didn’t notice.

The middle of the week was always slow, which worked in your favor today. By the time the morning rush faded, you found yourself wiping down the counters, clearing dishes near the bar, and finally getting the chance to ask Joel about his life.

You rinsed out a mug, letting the warm water run over your fingers as you glanced toward him. He was nursing his coffee slow, one hand wrapped around the mug, the other resting loose on the bar. His posture was easy, relaxed, but you could tell there was something there, something deep in his bones that he carried.

"So, what kinda jobs come and go?" you asked, keeping your tone light.

Joel glanced up from his mug, considering you for a moment. “Construction, mostly," he said, rolling his shoulders like the very word made them ache. "Been a contractor for years—fixin' up places, layin’ concrete, buildin’ what needs buildin'.”

Figures. Those arms—strong, steady—the kind that looked like they knew the weight of real work. His hands were large, rough and calloused, the kind you’d feel long after they touched you. But, Joel was a customer. You weren’t thinking that, of course not.

"Guess that explains why you knew the crossword answer last week," you teased, tossing the rag over your shoulder. "Steve still talks about it like you pulled magic outta thin air."

Joel huffed, shaking his head. "Man’s usin’ a pen for a crossword, and I’m the one impressin’ him?"

You grinned, leaning against the bar. "Hey, knowledge is power around here, Joel."

He let out a quiet hmm and took another sip of his coffee.

Before you could press further, the bell above the door jingled, and you got up hastily to take the newcomer’s order.

“Don’t worry about him,” Joel called over, sitting up straighter, setting down his coffee mug as his gaze flicked toward the man.

He stepped inside, his dark hair long, face clean-shaven, dimples deepening as he took in the scene. Something unspoken passed between the two of them—something that made it hard to tell if they were coworkers, friends, or something else entirely.

Then the man clapped Joel on the shoulder, grinning wide, “So this is what you’ve been ditchin’ the mornin’ crew for, huh, big brother?”

Your brows lifted. Brother.

Joel exhaled hard through his nose, eyes narrowing with obvious irritation, but his posture remained loose—like he was used to this, used to him.

“What ya got for me, Tommy?” he asked.

You barely had a second to process before Tommy’s attention shifted to you. His gaze swept over you, warm and playful, before he leaned a little too comfortably against the bar, ignoring his brother.

“Well now,” he drawled, flashing you a grin that could probably talk its way out of a speeding ticket, “if I knew this was the kinda place Joel was sneakin’ off to, I would’ve tagged along a whole lot sooner.”

Joel muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead.

You crossed your arms, biting back a smile. “And here I thought he just liked my coffee.”

Tommy let out a low chuckle, tilting his head. “Can’t say I blame him, darlin’.”

Joel let out a long, long sigh, already done with whatever this was turning into. He stood, tugging his jacket over his broad shoulders before clapping a firm hand on Tommy’s back—firm like a warning.

“C’mon,” Joel muttered, steering him toward the door.

Tommy let himself be dragged, but not without a final wink in your direction. “I’ll be seein’ you around, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips as Joel shoved him out the door with far more force than necessary, the bell jingling wildly as they disappeared outside.

Joel glanced back once, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the last two minutes of his life before heading off into the distance.

You just smiled, shrugging as you wiped down the counter.

But things changed after that morning.

Tommy only needed to step through the damn door before Joel was tensing at the bar, a muscle twitching in his jaw, his coffee suddenly the least interesting thing in the room. He continued to show up every morning, still ordered just coffee, still sat in his usual spot—but now, his eyes lingered on you more.

And now, he stayed just a little longer.

Not by much, not enough for anyone else to notice, but you did.

You noticed how his gaze flicked toward you between sips, how his fingers tapped idly against his mug whenever you laughed at something a customer said.

His brother joined him more too. You noticed the way he cut Tommy off real quick anytime his brother got a little too comfortable leaning against the counter, that exasperated “Tommy” carrying a warning underneath it.

And you noticed how his tips got just a little bigger after that morning, a couple extra bills tucked under his mug like an unspoken thank you.

So when a week passed—no sign of Tommy this time, no interruptions, just Joel sitting at your bar—you wondered if today might be different.

And it was.

Because today, as you cleared a dish from the counter, Joel cleared his throat. Not the casual kind, not the I’m just readjusting in my seat kind.

The nervous kind.

You glanced up, brows lifting. “What’s eatin’ ya, Joel?”

Joel exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. Just—uh.” He scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “You, uh… ever eat anywhere that ain’t this place?”

Your lips twitched. “You askin’ if I leave my own coffee shop, Joel?”

His jaw tightened, clearly close to regretting whatever he was doing, but he powered through.

“I’m askin’ if you’d wanna get somethin’ to eat. When your shift is done.” He finally met your gaze, voice a little gruffer than usual, but there was something hesitant in his expression—like he was braced for you to shut him down, “With me.”

You leaned back against the counter, arms crossing as you took your time, letting him sit in it for a second. Watching the way his fingers curled around his coffee mug, how he resisted the urge to shift under your gaze.

Then you smiled. “Are you asking me out?”

His eyes flicked away, like he really hated how direct you were, but you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Then, after a pause—“That…a problem?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against his mug. “Good.”

You grabbed a napkin and a pen, scribbling something before sliding it across the counter. “Then you’re gonna need my number.”

He eyed it, then you, something unreadable in his gaze before he finally, finally reached for it. His fingers brushed yours as he folded the napkin, tucking it into his pocket without another word.But you swore—swore—you saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took another slow sip of his coffee.

[joelmillerisapunk]

MILLLLAAAAAA I have not known peace since reading this

First of all, the tension. The history. The forbidden desire just simmering under the surface, waiting to explode. Every single moment had me gripping my phone like it owed me money.

The fact that they had all this unresolved emotion and then bam—thrown into the most intimate scene imaginable??

This was SO intense, so raw, so emotional—and the way it all came back to them in the end??? Like, she wrote the script for him. She was always going to find her way back to him.

I am never recovering from this. EVER I am crying in the club, hiding in the bathroom, sobbing into my pillow. okay favorite parts timeeeee - and this is my live reaction so excuse every emotional rollercoaster I hit here....

-> WAHHHHHH FJSDKJSDKLJF already killing me goddamnit He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. It could only be you. That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.that’s fucked up, Will*Will calling* -> OKAYY I SEE HOW IT IS YOU WANT ME TO CRY ALREADY HUH? “It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

-> WHAAAA I CANT DO THIS I CANT BUT I WILL IM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more. He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again. Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.” -> she is so relatable omfg I would be doing the same You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal.  -> SOBBING EXCUSE ME SIR? WTF YOU DOING SHAKING HER OFF LIKE THAT NO SIR NO SIR So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up.

-> my good goddddd im dying over here i am not okay sos help me He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

->idk Milla, i think you write the most beautiful things and you really wanna make my heart fall out of my ribcage. The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

-> ooooof THIS IS BUILDING UP OMG OMG OMG SMDFKSDA “Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally. “Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

-> stab me it might hurt less than this In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

THE ENTIRE INTIMATE SCENE HOLY SMOKES IM DIZZYYYY

-> I have no thoughts just thots my brain empty but this is delicious “I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,”

AND THE END AHHH IM SOBBING

Close-up

8k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you Warnings: 18+ mdni. ex lovers reunited, angst, mostly Joel pov, Joel can act cold out of defence mechanism, he has trouble accepting his own feelings, pining, slow burn, pet names (sweetheart, baby), semi public sex, just the tip, soft!joel, oral (f), piv, creampie. Pic for mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions. 

a/n:  this is written for @jolapeno 's dear-uary challenge (prompt here) thank you for this challenge Jo, and it was such a cool prompt 😍😍😍 Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for reading this one soooo many times 🥹😘💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

I sent you a script, tell me what you think tell me more just read it, trust me

The informal messages between Joel and his agent, Will, were usual. They had known each other for a long time, they were friends, and Will had always found him perfect roles. 

So as always, Joel trusted him- even though the first page of the script, delivered to him by a courier, was not completely filled, making him wonder why. 

In the evening he put his cup on the coffee table, and lay down on the sofa, a soft light lamp behind his head. With his back leaning against the cushions, shirt, jeans, bare feet. Always the same ritual, always the same setup, when he was about to read a new script.

He started reading it, taking a sip of coffee from time to time, until his heart leapt in his chest as he got to a particular scene. 

He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. 

It could only be you. 

That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.

that’s fucked up, Will

*Will calling*

“Yeah,” he grumbled as he picked up, without even trying to hide his feelings, then he got up to pace the room.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, Joel. But she’s a great writer and actress, you know it. We’ve been looking for a good drama movie for a long time. This one’s perfect.”

“It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

“Joel, listen to me and think about it. No one would know. And it can be therapeutic.”

“Thera… jesus, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Joel sighed as he hung up and threw his phone on the couch. 

Why the fuck would Will do something so stupid and inconsiderate, giving him a script from you? 

At the beginning of his career, his agent sent him one project for a movie in which you were expected to play too. Joel confessed that you two had been together, and added “you don’t bring her up. Ever,” to end the conversation. So Will never did. 

Until today.

He sat back down on the sofa, resting his forehead on his fist, resisting the urge to throw the cup of coffee across the room. He was surprised by his own reaction, his nervousness. His anger. Barely able to control his emotions, he felt so weak, like his heart was about to tear in two again, swallowing him whole. He was affected, years later, as if it happened yesterday.

So, sure, a long time ago he asked Will not to talk about you anymore. But they might have been  friends, his agent might have known about you, but he didn’t know the details. Didn’t know how profoundly the break up had hurt Joel, how much you had gotten under his skin, back then.

And in Will's defense, it wasn't like you never saw each other again, at parties or ceremonies, under Will’s gaze who thought that it wasn't that bad, after all. It was years after your separation, now having the job that both of you dreamed about, talked about, sweaty young adults in a messy bed where he had just made you come.

Will wasn't aware that it was actually that bad. 

Because he didn’t know the way Joel looked at you, when you were together. He didn't know how sweet and caring Joel was with you. He didn’t know how much he loved wrapping his arms around you, and having you curl up against him. 

He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more.

He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again.

Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.”

The first time you saw each other again, was in a place full of actors, agents, writers and directors.

You couldn't believe he was here, a few steps away from you. Of course, you knew you'd cross paths one day, but suddenly he was closer to you than he had been in years and you felt your heart racing. He was even more handsome than he was back then, if it was even possible. You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. 

But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal. 

So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. 

It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up. 

If you had looked up right away, you would have seen guilt sweep through his eyes. But when you finally raised your head, seconds later, he was on the other side of the room. The only thing you could see was his back, which he undoubtedly presented to you deliberately, as if his glare hadn’t been enough to make a point.

All evening, you struggled to keep conversations going, to concentrate, to think of anything other than his dark stare, furrowed brows, and the way he shook his head at you without any hesitation. For years, you had been wondering what he had thought of you, after those years. You just got the most brutal answer to that question. 

The second time, a journalist had done some research and discovered that you attended the same university, graduated the same year. He took the opportunity to bring the subject as Joel was walking by. He probably hadn't seen you amongst all those people, because you were sure he would have gone the other way, otherwise. You didn’t have much choice than to kiss, feigning a friendly closeness that had never existed between you. You had been lovers, then strangers. No in-between. 

His scent, so familiar, invaded your nostrils. He always wore the same perfume, the one you had given him for a birthday. It surprised you but you didn't have much time to think about it, as he ended the hug quickly.

Joel's eyes were shifty when you looked at him, a fake smile plastered on his lips. Which could probably seem real for people who didn't know him, but not for you. Not even years later. You answered the journalist's questions as best as you could, until Joel leaned towards to give you a hug that was as neutral as his eyes on you, cutting off the questions. Then he walked away, leaving you facing the journalist who was delighted with the exclusive material and oblivious to the unspoken scene that had happened in front of him.

Joel thought back to those two evenings, after he’d hung up on Will and before he’d put the script away in a drawer. He needed to regain control of his emotions, and to do that he couldn't continue reading your words, at least for now.

He went to the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee, and despite him trying, his mind wandered to lazy mornings where he would get up to make two coffees and then come back to the bedroom. He’d put them on the nightstand, before cuddling up to your warm body under the sheets, hearing you moan gently. Sometimes you would fall asleep in one of his shirts, and he loved smelling his scent on you, as if you were marked by him, somehow. It always made him feral, possessive. He didn’t know he had that side in him, until you.

You'd always grab his hand to kiss the tip of his fingers, before sliding them along your folds, feeling his cock harden against your ass and your pussy starting to drool. He would make you come with his digits, his lips against your ear, caged in his arms, then he'd slide his cock between your thighs and your soaked folds, just in time for your last spasms to squeeze his tip. Sometimes he would keep fucking you like that, lying behind you, and sometimes he would roll you on your back, taking his place between your thighs. Until he’d come, grunting, growling, his hair disheveled, and you often fall back asleep, his cock softening inside you, the cups of coffee cold on the nightstand.

He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

The next morning he woke up groggy. He put on a t-shirt and sweatpants, poured himself a cup of coffee, and put aside his good resolutions. He didn’t need the script to think about you, anyway. Time never healed his wounds, he never forgot you or the pain he had felt when you’d left. His thoughts were always hurtful, possessive and raw.

Even years after the break up he couldn’t help but think about you when his wrist fucked his shaft. Even sometimes when he was in a relationship. He hated himself for that but couldn’t help it. He missed your cunt, your hands, everything. But he couldn’t accept the idea that he was simply missing you. 

He always thought that your bodies were made for each other, and you always breathed the same words. He knew you meant it, his cock buried in you, his eyes fixed on yours rolling to the back of your head and his ears filled with your moans, barely able to tell his name.  

Until it was over. 

He knew it could happen, you always told him that you'd have to leave for California one day in hope to live your dream, that you couldn’t do it in Texas. But he brushed it off, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to think about it. He hid it in a corner of his mind, until he had no other choice but to face reality. Until it hit him. That day, he realized that he wouldn’t get to wrap his arms around you for the rest of his life.

He lay down on the couch and started to read. And the more he read the script, the more he realized that you wrote only the moments that had really happened. 

The story, background, was slightly different, probably so that no one could ever make a connection to the two of you. But the moments were real, and it made him dizzy.

You wrote that dance in your small apartment, first for the both of you, that you rented after graduation. You worked as a waitress and Joel was a barista, and you two went to as many castings in Austin as you could, dreaming every day about being actors.

That night you put on some music and danced. He kissed your hand and looked at you. He felt warm. He loved you so much that his heart was aching. He made you spin and you laughed, and it was like a spring breeze in the apartment, filling his lungs with fresh air. When you stopped twirling you brushed his hair and then kissed him. 

The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

Over the next two days, he took the script out of the drawer regularly. Slowly touching the paper that already bore the marks of repeated handling, him  lying on his couch, taking his time before opening it. 

He read it all, and the sweetness, the sensitivity with which you described your moments moved him profoundly. The person he had loved, cherished, cradled in his arms, wrote that. 

All the intimacy, the love and care you both felt for each other were there. For several years he made everything to forget the good moments, to focus only on the ending to feed his bitterness, but the fact was that there had been so many beautiful moments. And he could read them, feel them again. Couldn’t deny them anymore.

Your words were so familiar, so true to your love story, that his anger slowly gave some place to something else: nostalgia. Finally allowing himself to miss you and what you two had. He was still wondering why you had written the script and sent it to him, but now he was ready to learn the answer. And he wanted to look you in the eye when he’d ask you this question. But he wasn't sure how he’d behave, when you met. Didn't know if bitterness or nostalgia would fill his heart.

So after two days of silence, Joel picked up his phone and sent Will a message.

Ok, set up a meeting

Because of your busy schedules you could meet only in two weeks. The delay was driving him crazy. 

He made a copy of the script, his copy, which he filled with annotations, dates. Underlining moments or words erased from his mind, out of grief, anger or self-protection.

He got hard several times, while reading some scenes. And sometimes anger would come back to creep into his thoughts, whispering to him that you never should have sent it to him, when your separation had been so painful for him. 

And Will was not the only one Joel said “you don’t…. ever.”

To you, it’d been “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.”

That morning, as he got used to doing several times a day, he grabbed his copy of the script. He had handled it so much that the sheets were already damaged, some pages peppered with annotations. 

As he was reading, he remembered how you had loved to run your fingers over his jeans when you were watching a movie on your little couch. Playing with him, your hand going higher and higher, just to hear his breathing slow down, just to hear him murmur a needy and low “sweetheart, what are you doing?”, making you smile widely. Knowing that he would manhandle you two seconds later to be under him, pulling your panties to the side and pushing his thick length into you. He remembered the feeling of your breasts against his chest, how you whimpered in his neck while he was fucking you hard and deep. 

He was nervous the morning of the meeting. He took a shower, hoping to get rid of the fatigue and headache from the lack of sleep the night before. He put on a shirt and jeans and grabbed his car keys, put on some music when he started to drive, trying to change his mind, but it didn’t work, he was still anxious. He parked near the building. Once inside he found the meeting room and knocked on the door. He heard you say “come in” and took a deep breath before twisting the handle.

You were alone, sitting in a chair, and he quickly pushed aside the thought of how pretty you were. Joel immediately noticed your hands, pressed together nervously, before you stood up to greet him. He stopped when you walked towards him and your smile faded like that time.

“Wait,” he said, his hand raised in front of him, as he was trying to control his emotions. “I just… Why did you send it to me?” he added without any preamble, his tone harsher than he intended. 

“Oh… ok. Straight to the point, huh?” you said, sitting back down, and removing an imaginary crease on your sleeve, eyes lowered to the desk.

“I never…” you started to say, before stopping and taking a breath. “I think I needed to write our story down.” 

Joel’s sigh stopped you. You tried to keep a low and calm tone, not to show your anxiety. You knew that facing him wouldn't be easy. He had given you a glimpse of his coldness after the situation with that journalist.

“Joel, please, listen to me.” 

You looked at him, and yet you had no idea how his name, escaping your lips, tore his heart apart. He never thought he’d hear it again, and the familiar intonation made him shiver.

“I honestly think it would make a great movie,” you said. “And you must think so too, since you’re here.”

“I don’t know why I’m here, honestly. Except that I want to know why.”

“Would you have preferred to discover it once the movie was out, your role played by someone else?”

His gaze on you, dark and possessive, made you freeze.

“No, I really wouldn’t have appreciated our story, my life, played by someone else, Jesus,” he growled.

He put his hands on his hips, a stance you’d seen him do dozens of times before, searching for words, and then he sat in a chair, pinching the place just above his nose with two fingers. Trying to stop the headache that was threatening to come again. It had started off badly, and he knew it was his fault. He was too stubborn, too cold.

“Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally.

“Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

“You?” 

A part of him, that he thought was gone the day you had left, woke up with a groan. He couldn't imagine the movie being made, you playing... well, you, and him being played by another man. It was unthinkable and made his jealousy and possessiveness stir painfully in his chest.

Unlike you, he hadn't watched your movies. He tried though, when he saw your face on a movie poster for the first time. He went to the cinema, but he walked out of the theater the moment that actor leaned toward you to kiss you. He couldn't stand to see someone kiss you, when he couldn't do it anymore.

“I’m the best person to play this character, aren’t I?” you said softly, interrupting his thoughts. “Just like you’re the best one to play the male lead. Look, I know you’ve been rumored for a role like this for years. I know you’re not opposed to it. So why not?”

“Because it’s not about playing a role here,” he sighed. “It’s playing in front of a camera, things we said, did, years ago. Intimate things that belong to us.”

“I changed some things, no one has to know it’s autobiographical,” you started to say, before he quickly cut you off. 

“I know it is. And so do you.” He walked over to the window to stare at the buildings in front of him. “When you leave someone, you don’t do that. It’s unhealthy,” he said, almost softly. Resigned. He turned to you before adding, “Why stir up something that died years ago?”

He didn't expect to face the sadness that clouded your face, and once again guilt seized him. You were sad, upset, and despite the bitterness he’d been feeling for years, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore,” you answered, standing up and walking towards him. You stopped a few steps away to respect his boundaries, before you'd see his body stiff. “I left because I had to follow my dream, and it wasn’t working in Texas. And you wanted to stay in Austin, to take care of Tommy. We ended it because a long-distance relationship would have been too painful, because I didn’t want us to be unhappy, barely seeing each other, not being able to feel each other often enough. So I left. And I told you all that. You knew it, you knew why.”

You took a breath, after formulating what was oppressing your heart, waiting for him to answer.

“Playing with feelings is dangerous,” he said in a low voice.

“This isn’t a game, Joel. I'm not playing. I’m sure it would make a great movie. And maybe we need to express all that, even years later.”

“Do you remember what I told you that day? The last day?”

“Of course, I do. You told me not to call you. You told me that if we had to meet again… then it would happen. Well, it's happening, Joel.”

He looked at you, confused, and headed towards the door, brushing past you lightly as he passed. 

Just before leaving, without looking at you, he said in a low voice, “my agent will give you my answer in a few days.” 

Once the door closed behind Joel, you remembered the day you left. 

In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

At that moment you were wondering if you had made a mistake. You kept wondering for years. To be honest, you still weren’t sure you made the right choice that day. You followed your dream and succeeded, but it cost you the love of your life.

You didn't know what to think about the meeting. It could have been worse, he could have left after two minutes of being there, you knew it. You could have said more, too, but you didn't want Joel to withdraw more into himself. And for sure, you couldn't have told him that you always thought of him when you were in someone’s else’s arms. That you tried not to let jealousy invade you when you thought of his personal life, knowing that you had no right to be. You gave up on that when you had left.

You knew what he thought, how he reacted. Now he needed time to process everything, and you just had to wait for his agent to contact you. You couldn't do more.

Joel got to his car in a blur. He realized where he was only sitting behind the wheel, too many emotions swirling in his head. Years without seeing you and it had gone by at the speed of light. He blamed himself for being cold, blamed himself for not being cold enough, and he was even more lost than before he saw you. He started to drive, the feeling of having mishandled things weighing more and more on his shoulders.

He took another shower when he got home, as if it could wash off his remorse and regrets, the words exchanged playing over and over in his mind.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore.”

“I had to follow my dream. You wanted to stay in Austin. To take care of Tommy.”

“You knew it, you knew why.”

Did he really start to believe that the events had happened differently, after you left? Had he really done it, to the point of omitting certain things, because he needed someone to blame, to keep moving forward? 

Had he really been that guy? Blaming you when there was no one to blame, just life and the choices that go with it, that we all have to do?

Had he really denied for years that you had left with a broken heart, too? That he had told you to never call him, after those wonderful years together? He felt like he was waking up with a monstrous hangover, and guilt gripped him. Truth is he let you down, and reality was hitting him hard.

Because you were right, you didn’t leave just like that. He didn’t want to acknowledge it for years, kept sweeping it under the rug, but deep down he didn’t forget it. 

And you were right, he hadn’t been able to prioritize your relationship. Couldn’t prioritize himself either. He had always been protective of his brother, but it reached another level when he came back to Texas after being dismissed. Tommy wasn't the same, and Joel knew that he would have constantly wondered if his brother was okay if he had left for California with you. Worried that he could be in jail after a fight, with no one to bail him out. Or that he could be drunk in an alley, alone, spending the night there. Or worse.

“I can’t leave Tommy here alone, with all his drinking and partying,” he told you, expression determined.

“But you need to think about your future, our future too, Joel,” you replied desperately.

Joel had probably hoped that you wouldn’t have left, that you’d have chosen him, until the end. And you probably hoped the same thing, too. 

Right person, wrong time. Fucking sad, but so banal.

So to forget that he was as responsible for the breakup as much as you were, he let his pain turn into anger, and he never let nostalgia set in, or his feelings show up. 

And everything blew up when you sent him that script and he started reading it. It was impossible to continue to deny the obvious, to keep thinking that his feelings were stronger than yours and that’s why you had left. It was impossible to forget that he had told you, “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.” That he was the one who had cut everything off, once and for all. To protect himself, of course. But still.

So once you were gone, he did what he had to do, he took care of Tommy. Except that he started going to bars with him, at night. Drinking less than him, but still way too much. He took sleeping pills when he was obsessed with your absence, tired of squeezing your pillow way too tight in his fist, his jaw clenched with anger. He moved to a new neighborhood because he couldn't stand living in that apartment anymore where everything reminded him of you. 

When they were children and then teenagers, Joel and Tommy’s father taught them to work with their hands, and it helped them to find jobs on construction sites. And that he finally pulled himself together and helped Tommy the way he had to. It took him months, but he did it, and his parents would be proud of him, of them, if they saw their sons.

He worked hard, kept doing castings when his work allowed it, and eventually it paid off, even if it took time.

He thought about it all, and realized he needed to see you again before deciding on the movie. Needed to behave normally, to let go of his mask. So he asked his agent your number, then texted you:

it’s Joel. Are you still in LA?  I have some questions about the script can we meet again?  I am. When do you wanna meet? tomorrow night, my place? I’ll cook Sure!

He took a deep breath as he sent you his address. He let his emotions take over on purpose, to dispel the bitter taste in his mouth since you saw each other. Now he had to trust them.

The next day he started to cook during the afternoon, the dish that he hoped was still one of your favorite. He knowingly chose to invite you over to his place, to keep his mind occupied at least while he was busy in the kitchen. 

Once the dish was in the oven, he did a running session on his treadmill and showered. 

Anything to keep his mind busy.

You arrived right on time, a bottle of wine in hand.

“You still like the white?” you asked.

He did. Some things never changed.

As you approached the kitchen it smelled so good that you stopped there.

“Still one of your favorite meals?” he asked.

It was. 

You tried not to show that you were moved. Acts of service had always been his way of showing that he cared, and you weren’t expecting that when you showed up.

You sat down on a high stool in the kitchen and he opened the bottle of wine. You had a few sips, silently. Neither of you really knew what to say, at first. Then everything set into place, naturally, instinctively. A little shyly at first, bringing up things from your respective pasts, or present. You asked him how Tommy was doing, and he told you he was fine, that he was engaged to a woman named Maria and that they were going to be parents soon. You were happy for Tommy, sincerely. You had always liked him.

Joel was trying to act normally, to not pay too much attention to the ease with which you were chatting. How easily he opened up to you, telling you about his years in Austin, then his first ones in LA. His first roles, his doubts.

He was glancing at your hands when you weren’t looking at him. At your hair. 

He loved to see your eyes shine when you were talking about something that was important to you.

But above all, he loved to see them sparkle the first time he made you smile, that evening. It hit him, how much he missed it. Making you smile. 

His emotions were so familiar that his heart was beating a little too fast, like a horse freed from its reins.

And suddenly he wondered how he had been able to spend so many years without you by his side, when you had always been his sunshine, liberating his grumpy, reserved nature. 

A part of his brain told him that he was smiling a little too much, but he felt more alive during those moments with you than he hadn’t been in so long. 

Whether in a relationship or not.

And then he felt the atmosphere change, felt that you got nervous, an impression confirmed when you began to scratch your thumb. A habit that dated back years ago, and he'd always take you in his arms, kiss your thumb and tell you that he was there and that everything would be okay. Today, for the first time he couldn’t do all that.

“Are you ok?” he nevertheless allowed himself to ask.

“Yeah, it’s just… listen, I know you wanted to ask me about the script, but ehm... there’s something you need to know.” You took a deep breath before adding “there won’t be any movie if you don’t want to do it. If you’re not comfortable with it. I’m not saying this to put pressure on you, it's just… I just want you to know that your choice is completely free. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it, for whatever bad reason.”

“I appreciate that you’re telling me this, thank you,” he said, in a tone you couldn’t quite define, half defeated, half tender. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

“For what, Joel?” you asked questioningly.

“Yesterday. I didn’t really know how to handle all of it. Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed by a lot of emotions since I read the script. Including anger.” He didn't expect to tell you that, but the need was too much to bear. He needed to make things right.

“I know. I expected it to be complicated, after our two previous meetings,” you said, without animosity or bitterness. Just being factual.

He raised his eyebrows, as if to apologize, before continuing. “I wanted to apologize for that too. My attitude.”

“That’s your way of handling things, it always has been, I should have known. But I appreciate it too, thanks Joel.”

He nodded, then added “do you think we’ll be able to do it?”

“To do what?”

“Work together. To be coworkers on a movie?”

He saw your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you took the time to think before answering.

“Well… the evening’s going pretty well, right? You haven't shook your head at me yet, to show me the door.”

“Ouch!” he replied exaggeratedly.

“Too soon?” you asked, lips curled into a smile.

“A little,” he laughed.

He enjoyed it, that little moment. You’d had so many of them before. 

“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen?” he wanted to ask. 

“Aren’t you afraid of reliving things, that I’ll fall madly in love with you again and that the scenes we’ll shoot, my acting, will just express the reality of my feelings?” 

But he couldn’t ask you that.

He wanted to ask you if you had sent him the script because you still had feelings for him, but he couldn’t say that either.

“It’ll be a low budget movie. I mean, if we do it,” you said. There’ll be some outdoor scenes but not that many. Not many other actors either. It won’t be a long shoot.”

He nodded and said, “can I give you my answer in a couple of days?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Thanks for the meal, it was delicious,” you said as you stood up. “You can text me if you have any questions.”

He thanked you and you complimented him on his house as you put your coat back on. His taste hadn’t changed. The rooms were simply decorated. As you walked toward the front door you glanced inside one of the rooms, and saw a table with a wooden sculpture on it.

“Oh my god, Joel? You still do the carving?”

“Oh… well… yeah. I never stopped.”

“Can I?” you asked.

“Sure,” he opened the door and you slipped through the gap, brushing past him lightly as you passed and you had goosebumps at the familiar scent. Still the perfume you had gifted him once. Reassuring. After all these years, instantly, it was there. Enveloping you. 

You approached the table and leaned over a piece he was working on, admiring the figurine that was being carved. A rodeo cowboy on a bucking horse.

“Wow, Joel… you were already very good at this back then, but now it’s incredible. The level of detail is mind-blowing.”

You looked at the shelves, covered with other sculptures. You approached them: bears, deer, wolves, rabbits.

“This is really amazing, you’re so talented. And… Do you still play guitar?”

“Sure,” he answered, nodding at a guitar case. “I usually play in the dining room. My guitars are over there. This one needed a little TLC. I just got it back. It’s… well it’s the one you gave me.”

You looked at him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“You kept it?” you asked, trying to hold back your emotions.

“ ‘ course I did.”

You nodded, your throat tight.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you said. “Tell me about the movie, ok?” You looked at him hesitantly, but when he leaned towards you and wrapped his arms around your torso, your eyes closed at the feeling, so familiar, before you pulled away, told him good night and left.

Driving your car, you replayed the images of the evening in your mind. Of course, you had felt his gaze on you several times during the evening. And sometimes you could see Joel again. Your Joel.

Did he think about you as much as you thought about him? Did he suspect that you had sent him this script in the hope of getting back in touch with him? Did he know how much you missed him, all those years?

You had wondered so many times if he had been thinking about you. You thought about the hug, as comforting as before. You missed him so much.

Two days later, he texted you

“I’m in”

He kept looking at his phone after sending the message. The read indicator appeared quickly, then the writing bubble.

“Great, I'm so glad! I’m sure it’s gonna be amazing!!”

He hoped it would be. Hoped it wasn’t a mistake. 

He had to leave LA for several weeks for a shooting, and the organization of the film was put in place.

You sent each other a few messages in the next few days. Then the messages became more and more regular, while remaining purely friendly.

Several months later, the day before the shooting started, he knocked on your trailer to say hello.

You had rehearsed some scenes with the crew, and everything was ready.

The less emotional scenes were shot in the first few days. He didn’t ask for it, but he was glad. Every night he came back to his trailer, played the guitar, and thought about you. 

Seeing you every day was a very strange thing that he had trouble to define. He was happy to see you every day, to see the person you had become. And sad that you were no longer his. Filming these moments with you was like constantly reopening a wound that had never really healed.

That night, he took out the script, and reread the scene planned the next day.

EXT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He parks downstairs at their apartment, it’s dark. He knows she’s back from a week at her parents’. He’s eager to get home and see her again, he’s missed her. He quickly climbs the outside stairs and unlocks the door. INT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He puts his keys on the hall cabinet, takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. We follow him as he walks in the apartment, until he sees her in the doorway of the dining room. He smiles, we see love in their eyes as look at other. HER Hey baby He goes to her, they kiss, he takes her in his arms. She closes her eyes. HIM I missed you, baby. He brushes her cheek with his thumb. HER I missed you too. She takes his hand and leads him to their bedroom.

He stopped reading there, before the next scene, that was the most intimate, the one that made him anxious just to think about.

“I missed you, baby,” he said the line. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, like he had done so many times before. His eyes were fixed in yours. He wondered if he was imagining what he was reading in them.

“I missed you too.”

You took his hand and you headed out of the frame.

“Cut, it was perfect, guys! Go get ready for the next scene.”

He picked up his water bottle and took a sip. He felt dizzy.

You were both wearing underwear and bathrobes. Waiting to shoot the scene.

“Ok guys, you’re ready? Great, let’s go.”

The scene was a close-up of both of your faces during a sex scene, at night. You lay down on the bed first, after taking off your robe. He took off his too and lay down between your thighs.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” you smiled.

“Action!”

You started to kiss, tongues quickly brushing against each other. His hands cupped your cheeks as he rolled his hips towards you slowly, careful that your crotches wouldn’t touch. 

It was overwhelming to feel you against him, your breasts against his chest, with only your bra between the two of you. It was a whirling moment, to kiss you in such an intimate scene, playing something that you had lived for real before. He groaned and slid his hand to the back of your neck to hold you as close as possible against him.

He felt you shift slightly, turning your hips to face his. He wanted to ask you what you were doing but he couldn’t. He was half hard from the moment he laid against you but now his cock was hard as steel. You pushed your pelvis forward and the tip of his cock nestled at your entrance, pointing against his boxers.

He could feel your wet panties through the fabrics.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you recited your line, and he growled.

He couldn’t believe you would act like that while shooting a scene, couldn't believe you were using him.

He pulled away to look at you and you murmured an unscripted “please.” Eyebrows furrowed, he nodded slightly. His fat head found its way, and his tip pushed your panties in.

It was hot, filthy, forbidden. So unprofessional, but he couldn’t stop. He recognized your moans, and the small team around you probably thought it was perfectly faked, when it was music in his ears. The music he thought he would never hear again. 

Your hands tightened on his biceps as you came. So quickly. He felt your walls squeezing his tip and he almost forgot to move, forgot the script, forgot you were shooting a scene. He pulled out, afraid he would come too, and faked his orgasm, neck tense and veins bulging, your hands caressing his hair at the back of his neck.

You said the next line “I love you, baby. I missed you so much.”

“I love you too,” was his.

“Cut!! That was amazing, great job!!”

There was a pounding on your trailer door as you got out of the shower. You quickly threw on a bathrobe and went to open it.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled.

“Keep your voice low Joel, damn… Come in.”

You closed the door behind him, searching for the right words, pressing your hands together. 

“I, huh…” you stammered.

“No! No, talk to me. Tell me. You can’t… you can’t do that and stay silent.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he chuckled.

“Having you so close to me, against me… I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. It was overwhelming.”

“Everyone could have seen, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking, that’s the point, Joel! And they didn’t see, anyway.”

“Jesus christ you can't do that. You can’t just use me like that.”

“I know, Joel. I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“What?”

You sighed, and that time he didn't try to rush you. You felt him soften, giving you time to find your words.

“I miss you, Joel.”

“No, don't…  Please, don’t say that.”

“I missed you the second I left and it never stopped.”

Hearing the tone of your voice and reading your eyes, this time he had no doubt that you really meant it. And he felt all the tensions in his body relax, as if he were freed from everything that had been oppressing him for years. You approached him slowly, eyes raised to his, and you slid your hand into his, and his large palm gently closed over it. You caressed his cheek with the other, and for a moment he shut his eyes, pressing his face against your hand.

“I miss you,” you said again and he rested his forehead against yours. He gently rubbed his nose against yours, before kissing your lips softly. He heard your breathing hitch for a moment, then you moaned slightly as you pulled away, just to look at him, Joel, not the actor, for the first time in years. He pulled you closer to him and brushed his tongue over your lips, as if asking for permission to push inside. Greedily, you slid yours to his, licking his tongue and lips, until he crashed his mouth against yours. His hands rested on your waist while yours moved up his back, pressing your bodies together. You whined when you felt his hard cock pressed to you.

You pulled away from him again, just to look at his face, and he wanted to pinch himself, just to be sure you were not some dream that would leave him disillusioned and alone when he woke up.

You took his hand and led him to your room.

“Undress me,” you said.

He pulled on the knot of your bathrobe slowly, making the two sides of the garment part, revealing the curve of your breasts that he caressed with his fingertips.

Your chest rose quickly as your eyes were plunged into each other, until he lowered them to your pussy. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he was afraid it would explode.

He raised his gaze to yours, silently asking if you were okay.

“Yes,” you said. As if you knew he would want to hear it, that a nod wouldn't be enough.

He slipped his hands under the fabric of the robe and slid it down your shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving you naked. So vulnerable, and yet you were the strongest woman he ever knew, following your dream by leaving for a city where you didn't know anyone. And made your dream come true.

But now you were here, in front of him. So pretty, so sure of yourself, of your desires.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

He pulled you back, guiding you with his hands on your hips as he kissed you, until the back of your knees touched the bed.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he said. The nickname was so familiar in his mouth, so normal. You did as he asked, moving back until your head rested on the pillow as he watched you, still standing at the end of the bed. Then he took off his t-shirt, unbuttoned his jeans and got rid of them and his boxers.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. “Haven't felt better in a long time, actually.”

“Me too,” he added, laying on the bed, his hand caressing your inner thighs that he kissed, then he spread them with his hands.

He ran his thumb over your folds, covering it in your wetness until he reached your clit and gently rolled it under his finger. You moaned, spreading your thighs wider. 

He leaned down, his shoulders taking possession of the space between your thighs, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. He licked a long stripe from your drooling hole to your clit, then placed his hands on the inside of your thighs, pressing your knees against the sheets, and you willingly let him do it, your hands sliding into his hair. He pushed his tongue into your cunt, growling against your folds. He never thought he would taste you again and an overwhelming feeling was running through his whole body. You were leaking into his mouth, down his throat and he pressed you against him, greedy for what you were giving him as your hips rolled towards him. His nose brushed perfectly against your clit, like it always did before. You clung to his hair as your moans were getting louder and louder.

"I'm so close, Joel," you murmured, hands lost in his curls. "Please, baby, please." 

“Take what you need, use me, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, Joel… I’m gonna… I’m coming, fuck!”

He didn't let go of you, leaving his tongue buried in your pussy and his nose against your clit, gripping  your waist with his hands, as if they were in their natural place, your flesh welcoming them.

“Joel…” you whimpered.

“Another one, please, baby. Let me give you another one, ok?”

“I’m not sure if I can… I don’t know if I can,” you panted.

“Lemme try, ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered.

His tongue left your pussy, licking your puffy folds before teasing your swollen clit. His middle finger slid along your folds before he pushed it in you gently, immediately adding a second digit. His fingers pumped into you, making your wetness flow down to the sheets. He kept you pressed against the mattress, as he had done so many times, drunk on your taste and smell. His cock ached but he resisted the urge to grind himself against the bed, afraid of not being able to hold back and come on them.

“I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,” he added, still pumping your drooling cunt with his thick fingers, then licking and sucking your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you whined, just before you came on his diggits, clit pulsing against his tongue.

He crawled over to you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and smashed his lips against yours, your wimpers now disappearing between them.

“I wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you breathed against his lips, but he shook his head. 

“Sweetheart… I'd love it too but I’m gonna come the second you’ll take me in your mouth,” he said. “And I really need to feel you around my cock. All the way this time, not just the tip. You’re ok with that, baby?”

“Of course, need to feel you too.”

“Damn you’re so pretty,” he said, and kissed you.

He grabbed his cock in his hand, the tip leaking, swollen and red, and nestled it at your entrance, pausing there for a moment before thrusting in. 

“Oh fuck…” you whined, making him stop.

“No, no no, don’t stop, I’m ok. Need all of you, please,” you whimpered.

Like years ago, he would give you everything you needed from him. So he didn't stop until he bottomed out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, feeling his balls tightening, ready to explode. He was struggling so hard not to come, but his breath was hitching with every thrust since he felt your pussy around him. 

You kissed, hips rolling towards each other softly and slowly. He loved to feel you around him again, and again he thought that your bodies were made for each other. He was sure of it more than ever. He slid his arms under your shoulders and you licked his neck, right at his pulsating point, then kissed the thin and delicate skin crossed by its veins.

“I won’t last, baby, I’m sorry…” he panted.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, taking him deeper.

“It doesn’t matter, fill me, Joel, please, just like before,” you begged, making him grawl, and he placed his thumb against your clit. It was enough to give you soon another climax and you pulsed around his shaft, digging your fingers into his skin as you came once again. He thrusted in a few times before burying himself, balls deep in your cunt, and shot his cum into your core, filling it to the last drop, his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, sweetheart….”

“I know,” you breathed. “Just like before.” 

For a few minutes both of you were panting loudly, waiting to catch your breath.

Then you caressed his cheek and he kissed you until he pulled away and lay down facing you.

“Come here, baby,” he said, welcoming you against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, the way he always liked it so much. You stayed like that for a few minutes without talking. He just wanted to feel you against him, to hear you breathe slowly, to feel your skin against his. 

“I should have left with you,” he said suddenly.

You straightened up to look at him then said softly, “hey, no, don’t… Don’t hurt yourself by thinking that. You did what you had to do, and so did I. And we met again, like you said back then,” you added, and kissed him, then curled up in his arms again.

“We did,” he agreed, brushing your hair delicately. “So, that script?” he asked. “Was it to… like… get me back?”

“Of course it was,” you smiled against his torso, and he kissed the top of your head. 

“I’m happy you sent it to me, sweetheart.”

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[chrisstvrns]

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐜.𝐬.

warnings: fluff of chris telling reader hes moving back to boston, and hes gonna be there for her and madi!!

word count: 1,111

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

you were sat in the living room of chris’ parents house, the same place where he broke up with you nearly 7 months ago. he had texted you the night prior, telling you to come by his place with madison, saying he apparently had something important to tell you. 

you were sitting on the couch, feeding madi as she softly cooed in your arms, clinging to your necklace. 

“wheres my baby?” you hear chris gently shout from the kitchen, making his way to the living room 

you bite back a soft smile, glancing down at madi as her father enters the room, crouching down infront of you. “come ‘ere, baby girl” he softly whispers, his eyes full of love as he reaches for the baby. you gently hand her to him, your heart full of love and adoration. 

“i, uh, i need to tell you something..” he mutters, looking up at you as he sits on the floor with madi

you hum, looking into his eyes. 

“im moving back to boston.. me and nick and matt. we all are..” he quickly says, like hes been waiting to say it for ages. 

“what.. what do you mean?” your voice is soft, nearly hesitant as you look at him

“i know were not technically together again.. yet.. but, madi needs me. i missed so much, the whole pregnancy, the birth, the first two weeks of her life, im her dad. and she needs me. and nick and matt, theyre her uncles. i already talked to them, were moving back home. LA doesnt need us. you do. madi does. we’ll keep the house in LA as like, a vacation house, or something, but were coming home.” 

your face softens at his words, staring into his eyes. of course you still loved him, how couldnt you? but this just proved it even more. he was willing to do whatever it took to get you back, no matter how hard you resisted. 

“chris, you cant.. you guys moved to LA for a reason, i.. your lives are there now. you have all your friends, and nicks only spacecamp office is there, the fresh love office is there, you.. i cant make you do that.” you whisper, your voice cracking. 

“you are not making me do anything. i want to. i need to. madi’s my daughter. and you.. god, youre the love of my life. your the mother of my child, and i will always love you. im not asking you to get back together. not yet, at least. im telling you that im stepping up, and im gonna be a father to madi.” 

tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, and you quickly blinked them away, trying to maintain your composure. madi let out a soft babble, completely unaware of the emotional weight filling the room. chris gently bounced her in his arms, his expression unwavering as he waited for you to process what he’d just said.  

“you really mean this,” you whispered, more a statement than a question.  

“with everything in me,” he assured, his voice steady and sure. “i’m done being halfway there for the people who matter most. madi deserves better, and so do you.”  

the sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to doubt him. you’d spent so many months trying to rebuild yourself, trying to learn how to live without him. but hearing this—seeing him fight to be present, not just for madi but for you too—tugged at every guarded part of your heart.  

“what if things don’t work out?” you asked quietly, voicing the fear you’d carried since he first walked away.  

he exhaled softly, shifting madi so he could better meet your gaze. “then i’ll still be here. no matter what. not as your boyfriend, maybe not even as someone you love again. but always as her dad.”  

his conviction broke something inside you, cracking the walls you'd built so carefully.  

“and nick and matt are really okay with this?” you asked skeptically, needing to hear it one more time.  

chris chuckled softly, a genuine sound that eased some of the tension in your chest. “more than okay. nick said madi already has his heart, she had it as soon as he found out you were pregnant. and matt? you know he pretends to be the tough guy, but you should’ve seen him when i asked him if we could all move back. practically packed his bags that night.”  

you laughed despite yourself, a soft, breathless sound that mingled with the warmth building in your chest.  

“you’re crazy, you know that?”  

“crazy about you,” he said without hesitation, his lips quirking into a small, familiar smile.  

the weight of everything lingered between you — the past mistakes, the heartbreak, and now, the tentative hope blooming in its place. maybe things weren’t fixed yet. maybe they never would be entirely. but this moment? it felt like a step toward something better.  

“you better not screw this up again,” you whispered, half teasing, half serious.  

“i won’t,” he promised, his voice low and resolute. “i swear, i won’t.”  

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.  

“you said youre keeping the LA house?” 

he nods, looking up at him witha genuine look in his eyes. 

“maybe.. if were all okay, and if me and you, if we ever get back together.. maybe we can move back out there? you know i loved that house, and you, nick, and matt, if youre keeping it, just as a vacation house for now, maybe when madis a bit older, we can move back out there?” 

his eyes nearly fill with tears at that, youre small confession of maybe wanting to get back together with him nearly killing him. he instantly nods, shifting madi into one arm, reaching to hold your hand with his free hand. 

“yes. please, yes. in two, three, four, hell, even five years, come back out to LA. all of my friends there miss you. and when they find out, and finally get to meet madi, theyll go crazy. please.” you peppers the back of your hand in kisses, looking into your eyes

your eyes well with tears, looking down at him with a genuine look as you whisper “i love you.” 

“i love you too.” 

“always have.”

“and i always will.”

and you knew that was it. that promise, the small saying, that to anyone else it would probably confuse, but that saying you and chris made up when you were fifteen. that promise to stick together forever, no matter what happens. 

you loved him. and he loved you. you always had. and you always will.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: IM WORKING ON PART SIX I PROMISE.

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

find other parts of this series here

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

⋆˙⟡ tags: @lvrsturniolo @marrykisskilled @mattscoquette @emely9274 @wh0remikasas @mattsstarlet @pvssychicken @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @jvngle18 @sturns-mermaid @mattslolita @lolastrniolo @55sturn @oliviasthatgirl @hannahsturns @dykes4chris @y3sterdaysproblem @bernardsbendystraws @courta13  @colorthecosmos444 @delilahsturniolo  @colorthecosmos444  @chriss-slutt  @cvnntagious  @conspiracy-ash  @bluetalia  @chris-hallelujah @15vogue  @chrispleasure  @idkwhatthisis2009  @sturniologirlzz  @sturniolo101  @leeeeree  @nicksorange @tylerstacobell  @simpforeveryman @sofieeeeex  @espressqe  @yesterdaysproblemm  @skye-44  @kikirasweatsweathoho @shadowthesim @chrepsi @st4rcs @mattswifeyx @sturnslux3 @iheartmattsbeard @sophiaxsblog @slutforchrissturniolo2 @pair-of-pantaloons

[marklikely]

no literally this is how its been the last couple weeks

[ariesprincesss]

Super Random Astro Observations Pt. IV

as always, i am not an astrologer just a silly girl that knows a ton about astrology🤓

View more observations in this series here:

Super Random Astro Observations

Super Random Astro Observations Pt. II

Super Random Astro Observations Pt. III

‧₊˚🌈 sun conjuct pluto synastry first meeting was so insane!!

‧₊˚🌈 upon reading into these aspects everything makes sense with my last situation… i also had mercury conjuct pluto with him and as pluto there was a huge obsession over him and intrigue the instant i met him & he def had secrets and a hard time opening up i could tell that he kept cards close to his chest.

‧₊˚🌈 as a gemini venus & mars and the only coworkers ive made instant friends with being geminis is so crazy to me😭 i swear, they love to chat with me & i love it with them !!

‧₊˚🌈 back to the gemini energy, i can ALWAYS feel when someone has gemini placements like omg. every gemini sun ive gotten close with makes a point of like talking about everything ever , asking questions they probably shouldn’t ask, & just being overactive in that way😭 i will say that i feel like gemini in sun sign is kind of weak just in the sense that other placements can reallyyyy mellow their sun out.

‧₊˚🌈 2nd house venus in lunar return chart i spent money with absolutely no care lol. it was also in a taurus degree & i spent it solely on beauty products & clothes LOL

‧₊˚🌈 as an 8th houser (mercury especially) i have like a super big thing with being inconspicuous & using indirect language in conversation with ppl im just getting to know whenever they ask me questions, because i just don’t feel like they should know things ab me😭

‧₊˚🌈 so im like 2/3 months away from my solar return and am seeing it show up in real time… 6h stellium in my natal 7th is making me focus on work relationships & i don’t usually make friends w coworkers and ive already made 2 friends , one coworker i just met yesterday and another that i met like two months ago lol

‧₊˚🌈 after experiencing 8h synastry it rlly felt like the year was almost separated from before i met him and then after because of how different life felt for me afterwards

‧₊˚🌈 I noticed SO many 9h northnode celebrities having very similar life structures. Affluent or well off religious parent(s), moving homes often when young or in adulthood, having teachers or being guided by someone, studied their future profession in school/college, and lastly a lesser commonality i noticed was adopting a different religion at some stage in their life. i think above all with this placement leaving your birth town/ your place of residence could be important in your life story. (Ex: Donna Summer moving to Europe to preform in the musical ‘Hair’ which jumpstarted her career!)

‧₊˚🌈 also random but i noticed that a lot of virgo rising celebrities with 9h northnode were the youngest of 3 siblings & i am too so i thought that was super interesting lol or being one of 3 siblings, being the 3rd child birthed could be significant

‧₊˚🌈 leo mars musicians and being effortlessly good at playing instruments/having the ability to create their own special way of doing something /putting their own spin on something in their music… ex: Jeff Beck, Paul McCartney

‧₊˚🌈 so i always reference a life changing event in these that altered everything about my existence but i never reference what my solar return showed for that year. i had a 12th house stellium (sun,jupiter,neptune,chiron) and mercury, northnode, and uranus in my first house. it literally reads like a hidden part of myself is finally let out and expands, and it was almost like “ fate” for me to change mentally and physically that year. i also had pluto 10h and this feels like it manifested in a public change, or a change in public image and i literally had customers at my job going “you look different everytime i see you” 🫢, my natal sun sign was on the ascendant too and that year i started to come more into myself or i guess i became more like myself if that makes sense!(astrology is scary & almost so overt at times , it’s funny)

‧₊˚🌈 a year when i was overly promiscuous i had 8h moon & vertex in my solar return…

‧₊˚🌈 the month i got covid last year in my lunar return i had neptune & saturn retrograding in 6th house ,neptune square my midheaven & i was out of work for weeks lol

‧₊˚🌈 this one is less of an observation more of a question for the culture😭 has anyone else seen how lunar returns, solar returns, transits ,etc. kind of like hint that something or someone important is coming towards you? i think that is SO interesting because the month i met my ex online ,i had 7h vertex, chiron, & northnode but i remember at the time not considering him until the day before my lunar return chart switched to the next month when he made a big impression on me & asked to take me out and in that lunar return chart i had 7h juno & then 7h vertex again!

‧₊˚🌈 3 months before i met my ex, my ascendant progressed into libra in my progressed chart🫢

‧₊˚🌈 some transits i had for meeting him in person were transit south node trine venus and transit venus sextile northnode! i 1000% consider him as one of my first big karmic partners. you guys can read more about this meetings transits here !

‧₊˚🌈 I’ve recently been introduced to solar arc progressions which is a form of predictive astrology and found out i’m supposed to have a fated meeting with someone february 10th🫢 solar arcs only work to predict something like this if you have confirmation from 3 different chart sources tho!!! For me My Solar Return, Lunar Return, and transits confirm this meeting.

———————————————————————————

Thank you so much for reading! Comment what other Astrology content I should make bc i have no idea lol. I hope you guys enjoyed these observations ♡

[jd-loves-fiction]

Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work

Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them

🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all

Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted

On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him

And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body

He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him

Reminds him that he's still human🥺

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there

He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off

Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon

All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart

Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed

He's overjoyed!! But internally :)

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

Truly baffled, at first

He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way

Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased

At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it

And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...

There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄

Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly

I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it

The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little

When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!

Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it

He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really

It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill

He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort

Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on

And Yanqing did the same with him

So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD

HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭

He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time

Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING

Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before

People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before

Though that feels very different to him

When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously

But you? Oh he's taking it seriously

Ego? Inflated to hell and back

He's being extra sweet and caring with you

Making sure you eat and rest, etc

Gotta live up to his reputation 😉

The dad who stepped up fr

Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately

Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)

[redrose10]

so i was told 'maybe in another life' pt. 2 was a possibility and here we are.... PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU GIVE ME A PART TWO AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

I hope this lives up to your expectations…

There will be another part to this one too. Sorry

This is a part 2/continuation of this one here.

Non Idol Yoongi x Loan Shark Female Reader. Soulmate AU

Warnings: Violence, guns, kind of suggestive, mentions of orphanage, murder, swearing, name calling

*******************************************************

Over the years, lifetimes really, you grew to hate the idea of soulmates. You used to think the idea was sweet. The thought of being tied to someone else so tightly that destiny would force the two of you together somehow seemed romantic. If only your other half had felt the same way.

The last time you saw Yoongi in person he was a famous idol that you happened to have to work with while he was completing his required military service. Once again he rejected your soulmate status though. He told you to move on and find someone else like he had. Because just like he said he would, he married another woman who wasn’t you. She was an idol just like him. Famous, talented, and beautiful. The wedding photos that were plastered in every magazine and all over the city were beautiful. Even you couldn’t deny that he looked at her with so much love and affection, something you never saw from him. They ended up having two kids, a boy and a girl. He had his own little happy family while you struggled every day to get by. Yoongi went on to live a long successful life filled with fame, money, and happiness from what you could see.

You can still remember the way you felt the day you saw the news of his passing. There had always been a part of you that hoped that maybe he would realize his love for you, especially after it was announced that him and his wife had divorced. Then the two of you could be together and finally put an end to the lifetimes of suffering you had endured, but you never saw him in person again.

And in that moment as you stared at his smiling face plastered on your tv screen while the newscaster discussed the upcoming funeral it sealed the deal and forced you into yet another life once your current was over.

In this new life you no longer cared to find Yoongi and instead accepted the fact that you would be forced to live a million different lives possibly for eternity. All of this lead you to be the cold, bitter, ruthless person you had become today.

“Please!”, the man in front of you sobbed, “I’ll get the money. I promise. Just give me another week.”

You pushed the end of the pistol a little harder into his forehead sure to leave a mark. “That’s what you said last week.”, you spat, “I’m out of time. The boss wants his money or a body. Which is it gonna be?”

“Please. I’m begging you. I’ll have it next wee-“

The man dropped to floor lifeless as you put away your still smoking gun. “Clean this up and get him over to the boss.”, you ordered to one of your men before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

The first time you killed someone you cried yourself to sleep that night. Their crying, sobs of desperation, the way they called for their mother… You had nightmares for weeks. But now, years later, it was just another day on the job. Tonight you will go home, crack open a beer, and forget everything that just happened. It was the only way to survive.

“Let’s go. Boss sent the next location.”, one of your men spoke from the doorway, “Said it’s a big one.” You nodded and put out your cigarette before following behind.

You don’t exactly remember how you ended up as one of the lead loan sharks for the biggest and fiercest mob boss this side of the planet, but somehow you got there. You were orphaned at a young age. Bounced around from home to home most of which not equipped to properly provide for you which resulted in stealing to get what you needed. One evening you smelled something that made your stomach growl even harder than it had been. A steaming loaf of fresh baked bread was left out in front of a bakery to cool. You were starving and cold and after making sure no one was looking you grabbed it and ran. You didn’t get very far before two men caught up to you grabbing you by your arms. They carried you back to that same storefront and into one of the back rooms where you were thrown on the ground.

“We don’t tolerate thieves around here.”, someone spat before forcing cold metal against your head. You closed your eyes not having the strength or motivation to fight back and hopelessly just wished for it to be over soon. You heard another voice enter the room demanding the gun to be put away. After some protests by your captor and a stern warning from the other man the gun was removed from your skin and the grip around your neck loosened. The man who saved you left the room without a word. You never even opened your eyes to get a look at him.

Before you knew it you were being driven to a large mansion just outside of the main city. You were given a bedroom and clean clothing. Three meals a day were provided which was more than you’d ever had. All of this was free of charge, you just had to promise to sign your life away to someone they only referred to as The Boss.

Regardless of what others think, to this day you’ve never seen him. Haven’t heard his voice since that day he demanded your release in the back of the bakery he used as a front for a gambling ring. You agreed to work for him because you had nothing else to loose and now many years later you were his top worker being trusted to lead his teams while doing all of his dirty work. It gave you a comfortable life by keeping you fed and housed and most of all kept your mind busy to the point you hardly ever thought about Min Yoongi.

“Ready? Boss says he wants this one alive if he refuses to pay. Wants to take care of him hisself. Guess this one has been extra mouthy.”, Baek said next to you. Baek was your right hand man. One of the few people in this business you trusted.

“Good, means we can be a little extra rough. I need to let off some steam anyways.”, you sighed checking to make sure your gun was loaded.

In the middle of an old abandoned factory you found a group of your men standing in a circle hurling insults and expletives, a few threw in a kick or punch at the man who was on his knees with his hands tied behind his back and a blindfold blocking his vision.

“Alright boys, step aside.”, you said pushing your way through the crowd of taller bigger men that you were never afraid of.

“Great. The princess is here.”, one of them groaned. “Wonder how often she has to fuck the boss for him to keep her around.”, another scoffed. You cocked your gun and pointed it directly in the middle of his forehead, “Who I fuck and when or where I fuck them is none.of.your.business.”

“Whoa whoa whoa Y/N let’s put the gun down. It’s late and we need to get this over with so we can all go get some rest.”, Baek said while he gently, but firmly forced your hand down.

“Yeah watch your mouth bitch.”, another in the crowd said, but before you could figure out who was the culprit someone else decided to interject.

“I’d be happy to keep her mouth occupied for a while.”, the man on his knees said making your stomach twist into a knot. That voice was oddly familiar.

Your head whipped to the side so fast you lost balance and when you composed yourself and got a good look at him you froze.

That smirk. You could recognize that smirk anywhere. That same smirk has haunted your dreams for centuries.

[ilylillies]

I LOVE pound CAKE so MUCH!!! It tastes SO good with the ICING too!! It brings back a LOT of memories when my MOM first MADE it!! It tasted WONDERFUL, SWEET, VANILLA-Y if you want to call it. Its REALLY good I LOVE POUND CAKE.

Oh yeah, what’s your FAVORITE CAKE?

Cant call myself devoted if I always make the mistake of holding your hand in my claws.

What are YOUR FAVORITE COLORS? My FAVORITE colors are, BLUE, PINK, YELLOW, and BLACK!!! I LOVE PINK, BLUE, and YELLOW because they make the most PRETTIEST, MOST BEAUTIFUL SUNSETS!!

My FAVORITE LANDSCAPE ( I don’t know if it counts, but I’ll just say it anyway for the internet gods to notice, ) is a CORAL REEF!! I actually like any marine landscape because the LUMINESCENTE and MAGIC of the UNDERWATER is a FANTASMICAL sight to SEE!! What are YOUR FAVORITE LANDSCAPES??

My FAVORITE MUSICAL GENRES are ELECTRONIC, FUNK, HIP-HOP, INDIE, I THINK ACOUSTIC, SOMETIMES ROCK, I really just like about ANYTHING at this point cause WHAT ELSE AM I DOING IN MY LIFE??? What are YOUR FAVORITE MUSICAL GENRES?

My FAVORITE GAMES are THE SPLATOON FRANCHISE, GREAT GOD GROVE, MOUTHWASHING, ANIMAL CROSSING:NEW HORIZONS, and ROBLOX as of what I can remember right now. What are YOUR FAVORITE GAMES??

My TOP SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS are TUMBLR, REDNOTE, and FACEBOOK because Im like I guess a weirdo, JUST KIDDING I DONT USE FACEBOOK, I cant check TUMBLR until the end of the week and I don’t even have TT cause TT is kinda in deep with politics and stuff so yeeaahh.

My FAVORITE franchises as of RIGHT NOW are GREAT GOD GROVE, MOUTHWASHING, REGRETEVATOR, SPLATOON, I think I’m still in WELCOME HOME a bit here and there, I.O.N OBJECT SHOW, OBJECT SHOW COMMUNITY (OSC), and thats all I got for now. What are YOUR FAVORITE FRANCHISES??

SONGS I LIKE are NEW DROP by DON TOLIVER, HEART BEAT by CHILDISH GAMBINO, (This IS WHERE I GET WEIRD) ANTHEMS FOR A 17 YEAR OLD by BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE, SOUK EYE, BROKEN, SHE’S MY COLLAR, and the one and only TOMORROW COMES TODAY by GORILLAZ (I told you its getting weird) HEADLOCK by IMOGEN, AH AH by SYLENDENNA, RAINCOAT & DIRTY CAR by STUDIO KILLERS, SARAH, TREEHOUSE, HARVEY, SANDY, 16 MIRRORS, and MIS by ALEX G, CORBON AMODIO’S LUCY (Bingo bango bayber) I THINK I LIKE WHEN IT RAINS by WILLIS (Now were really falling, WHY DOES MY PHONE SMELL LIKE METAL) (sorry im adding so much words for algoridunm to word count) uhh uh um LAGTRAIN INFECTED MIX by JORJ1357 I think you know enough, what are SONG YOU LIKE?

My FAVORITE HOBBIES are DRAWING, ANIMATING, USING PINTEREST, WATCHING HOOPS AND YOYO, and other FRANCHISES, EATING, PLAYING ROBLOX OR SOME OF MY OTHER FAVORITE GAMES like SPLATOON, READING WEBCOMICS, USING INSTAGRAM, LITERALLY MY PHONE, LOOKING AT PEOPLE ENJOYING THEIR LIVES SKATEBOARDING AND URBEX EXPLORING WHILE WEARING COOL CLOTHES AND LIVING COOL LIVES AND IM OVER HERE NOT KNOWING BASIC HYGIENE Help me

My FAVORITE FRUITS are WATERMELON, APPLES, BANANAS, and ORANGES because their all SWEET, APPLES, ORANGES, and WATERMELONS are HONEY CRISP and JUICY, BANANAS are SOFT yet PUNGENT in such a WAY I don’t know how to DESCRIBE.

My FAVORITE SEASONS are ALL the seasons. FALL gives a homey vibe where you listen to acoustics and wear cute layered clothes. WINTER is a time where I watch people slip on the ground early in the morning, get to wear warm clothes and snuggle inside my blanket while scrolling on my phone. SPRING, a time of rebirth, anew, a time where flowers, lakes, nature, get to glisten from the death of winter, a time for new days. SUMMER is my utmost FAVORITE time of the year, as it brings out old nostalgia of memories with my cousins, the beautiful weather, the MUSIC is amazing, Its a beautiful time to enjoy. What are YOUR FAVORITE SEASONS?? Cant wait to find out!!

My FAVORITE songs are 16 MIRRORS by ALEX G, AH? AH! By SYLENDANNA, WAIT A MINUETE by WILLOW, SHES MY COLLAR by GORILLAZ, also my FAVORITE BAND so far, GOD IS CALLING ME BACK HOME by KING GIZZARD AND THE LIZARD WIZARD, I havent listened to many of their songs but this one I heard from YUGO LIMBO, creator of Smile for me Dr Habit and Great God Grove, when they made a trailer for their psychedelic horror comic, and I though it was pretty nice, I REALLY like Lost so—

—ul down x Floki, and uhh looks like Pinterest’s word limit is here, I gotta go byeee.

My FAVORITE type of IMAGINARY WEATHER is when it’s RAINING on a SUNSETTING afternoon. Although Ive never SEEN it, a SUNSET RAINBOW out on a CLIFF, or off in the DISTANCE of a CITY would be a PLEASANT sight to see. Whats YOUR FAVORITE imaginary WEATHER??

WHAT are YOUR FAVORITE FLAVORS?? My FAVORITE FLAVORS are VANILLA, HAZELNUT, CHOCOLATE, WATERMELON, and BUBBLEGUM!!

My FAVORITE DRINKS are SLUSHIES, ORANGE FANTA and ROOT BEER SODA, HOT CHOCOLATE, or, COCOA, BATTERY ACID DRINK from tiktok with the SMOKY ICE, OREO MILKSHAKES, and WATERMELON SODA.

My FAVORITE BUBBLE GUM FLAVORS are the ORIGINAL, JUICY FRUIT, CINNAMON, WATERMELON, BUBBLE YUM is my FAVORITE BRAND of BUBBLE GUM other than HUBBA BUBBA and DUBBLE BUBBLE. I also like POP ROCKS.

What are YOUR FAVORITE BUBBLEGUM FLAVOR or FLAVORS?

A Palestinian prisoner from Zionist occupation prisons... Zionism is terrorism.

Zionists are truly disgusting oppressors. They kill, torture and imprison Palestinians just because they are Palestinians and do not want to leave their homeland. They torture them beyond your imagination. They don't care whether the other person is a woman, child or baby. They have no conscience or common sense. If there is an zionist near you, protect yourself from him/her/ something

Free, free Palestine! 🇵🇸

[adumbratrapedme]

Atsumu Miya x reader | teen pregnancy. pt 1 the news.

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between atsumu and reader.

wc. | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst, teen pregnancy mentions, fluff, etc.

teen pregnancy series masterlists here!

╭⋅ So, this happens on your third year at higschool, you guys dated since your first and at first it was good, but... im a sucker for "fuckboy!atsumu" allegations and agst so...

╭⋅ Atsumu definitely has that charming, cocky persona, and he’s known to flirt with anyone who catches his eye. But when he’s with the you, he can be surprisingly soft and genuinely sweet. Still, it’s a struggle for him to drop the “playboy” act completely, which causes a lot of tension in u guys relationship.

╭⋅ You guys always break up- and come back- break up- and come back-

╭⋅ Despite breaking up (thing he regrets everytime) he hates seeing you with someone else and can’t stand the thought of u moving on.

╭⋅ The pregnancy news hits him harder than he admits, and he starts questioning whether he’s ready to be a father and whether he deserves the chance to make things right with you-

╭⋅ DEFINITELY struggles with the idea of being a father, especially because he’s used to living a carefree life. He’s not sure he’s capable of stepping up, but as the pregnancy progresses, he realizes he might have to.

╭⋅ Before he fully realizes the gravity of the situation, Atsumu might initially avoid facing the pregnancy news because he’s scared of what it means for his future. He doesn’t know how to balance his carefree attitude with the responsibility that comes with having a child. It’s a huge step for him to admit he’s not ready, but once the reality sets in, he’ll struggle to find his place in the reader’s life again.

╭⋅ And in case you are curious this takes place in the same "universe" as osamu's teen pregnancy storie mwhaheheh

It’s been two months since you and Atsumu broke up—again. The same cycle, the same arguments, the same bullshit promises since you were in your 1st year. He’d swear he’d change, swear he was done flirting with other girls, done making you feel like you were just another option. And maybe he meant it in the moment, but he never followed through. So, you ended things.

But, of course, Atsumu never really left you alone.

Even now, as you sit in the classroom with a classmate, laughing at something dumb he said, you can feel Atsumu’s eyes on you. He’s standing by the doorway, pretending to talk to one of his teammates, but you know he’s watching.

Your classmate nudges you. “Miya’s glaring at me.”

You sigh. “Let him.”

Truthfully, you have much bigger problems than Atsumu’s jealousy. Like the positive pregnancy test sitting at the bottom of your school bag, wrapped in tissues and regret.

You haven’t told anyone. Haven’t even figured out how to process it yourself. But the weight of it is suffocating, pressing against your ribs, making every interaction with Atsumu feel ten times heavier.

When the bell rings, you head out quickly, but you barely make it a few steps down the hall before a familiar hand grabs your wrist.

“You’ve been avoidin’ me,” Atsumu mutters, his grip firm but not tight. There’s that usual cocky smirk on his lips, but his eyes flicker with something else.

“I don’t owe you anything,” you reply, pulling away.

His jaw clenches. “Who’s that guy?”

You blink. “What?”

“The guy you were sittin’ with,” he says, voice dropping. “You datin’ ‘im?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “Oh my god, Atsumu, are you serious? You’ve spent the last two months acting like I don’t exist, and now you’re mad because I sat with someone else?”

“I never acted like ya didn’t exist.” His voice is quieter now, rough around the edges. “Yer the one who walked away.”

You exhale slowly, gripping the strap of your bag. This is pointless. He’s always like this—possessive when it suits him, distant when it doesn’t.

You should just walk away. But the words are already clawing their way out of your throat.

“I’m pregnant.”

The hallway noise fades. Atsumu just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Like his brain is still buffering, trying to process what you just said. Finally, he breathes out a short, shaky laugh. “What?”

You hold his gaze, refusing to repeat yourself. His smirk wavers, and then, for the first time in all the years you’ve known him, Atsumu looks genuinely lost.

You don’t wait for him to process it. You turn, your feet carrying you down the hallway, away from him, away from everything. Your heart is pounding, each step feeling heavier, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Atsumu doesn’t say anything more. Not that you’d expect him to. He’s still standing there, frozen, his mind racing, but no words come out.

As you step outside, the cool air hits your face, and you breathe it in, trying to steady yourself. You have a plan. Sort of. You’ll figure this out, somehow. You always do.

But then, you hear his voice again.

“Wait.”

It’s soft, hesitant—definitely not the usual Atsumu, not the cocky asshole he always is.

You don’t stop.

“Hey,” he calls, louder now, more desperate, his tone slipping into something unfamiliar.

This time, you force yourself to pause but don’t turn around.

Atsumu’s footsteps echo behind you, and he catches up quickly, standing a few feet away. You still don’t look at him. You don’t want to.

“I—” He hesitates, and you hear him swallow. “Is it mine?” You freeze, your blood running cold for a split second, before everything inside you snaps. You turn around sharply, fury building up in your chest.

“Of course it’s fucking yours, Atsumu,” you snap, your voice cutting through the air. “Unlike you, I don’t go sleeping around with people after I end a relationship.” (I have a question guys, english people, is it “unlike you” or “like you”. ?? Confused at 100% hope is understandable tho)

His face goes pale. He opens his mouth to say something but falters, clearly not knowing how to respond to that. You can see the guilt in his eyes, the regret, but you’re too far gone to care.

“You think I’d come to you with this if there was any doubt?” Your voice shakes, but you keep your gaze steady. “I’m not some fucking idiot who plays games like you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long while. He just stands there, staring at you as if you’ve slapped him across the face. And maybe, in some ways, you have.

Finally, he takes a step forward, his voice quieter now, as if he’s trying to find his footing. “I’m sorry.”

But you don’t want his apology. Not this time.

“I don’t need your apology,” you reply coldly, turning to walk away. “I need you to stop pretending you care when you don’t.”

Atsumu doesn’t follow you. Not this time. You hear him stand still, the silence heavy between you two, and for the first time, you don’t feel the slightest urge to look back.

Taglist:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69 @curlyhairkk @b1xi @reuka1

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! also if u only want to be tagged on specific characters.

-if i forgor someone pls tell me and dont be shy, i get really lost with the taglist thingy ahhh

I HATE THE TWINS SO BAD (jk i love them) i always get confused on who is who, who is pee pee head whois poo poo hair anyways huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh sprry for late update, im doing a few other stuff lately but i. uh. i deeply apolgzhe!!