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dancingtotuyo · 5 months ago

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14. in the cold light i live to love and adore you

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: you adjust to life with a newborn. Joel finally gets to tell you something

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt and comfort, TLOU SPOILERS

Notes: To my beautiful beta readers @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @janaispunk, I adore you both with my whole, entire heart!

Words: 3931

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

The winter winds blow in with gusto, granting one of the coldest you’ve seen in Jackson yet. The ground freezes in October and it stays that way into the next year. Reports say you lose more patrolmen to cold than infected even with the uptick in sightings. The brutal winter is relentless, keeping its freezing claws in the world well into the new year. You think if Al Gore is still alive, he’d be happy to see this kind of freeze, but Jackson keeps turning despite it.

Rachel Perkins organizes a play for the kids. Willa is assigned the part of a butterfly. She has all kinds of ideas for her costume, continuously searching for items to assemble it. Joel shapes some old wire into wings and you manage to wrap them with pink and purple scraps of fabric.

Someone gifts Willa an old tutu that needs mending in about three different places, but it’s easy work. Except once her ensemble is put together, you have no success convincing her to wear anything but the wings and sparkly pink tutu requiring another two mending jobs. On the third straight day, her wings require readjusting after they got bent out of shape during a game of tag.

A few people decide there should be a dance, so within a couple of days, the Tipsy Bison is packed with dancing bodies and music and life. Carter finds his friends in a quiet corner. Willa runs, weaving through the crowd in her butterfly costume despite numerous attempts to talk her out of it.

“At least it makes her easy to spot.” Joel winks at your side, whiskey in his hand.

“Finding Willa in a crowd has never been an issue.” You laugh, taking the glass from Joel. He smiles as you take a sip before handing it back to him.

“No, I don’t suppose it has.” Joel laughs.

“There you two are. About time you showed up.” Tommy grins, walking toward you with Maria at his side.

Joel rolls his eyes but it’s all in good fun as he clasps hands with Tommy.

“I see Willa is practicing for the recital,” Maria laughs, her eyes pinned to her niece.

“Haven’t been able to get her to wear anything else,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead. “I’ve already mended the damn tutu three times, it’s hanging on for dear life at this point.”

Joel chuckles, arm threading around your waist. “Can’t beat the smile on her face though.”

“I’m handing you the needle and thread next time she comes in with a tear.” You roll your eyes in playfulness.

“Hey, I’ve fixed those wings several times now too.”

“Sounds like I need to send Elias’s pants over to your place,” Maria says. “I think every single pair needs patching.”

“I remember when Carter was in that phase. I gave up there for a while. Let him run around with holes. He didn’t seem to care.”

“I’m about to resort to that.”

“Get Tommy to do it. He had to sew me up a couple times. Did a damn good job,” Joel grins. “You know that one scar.” He looks at you.

You know it. It runs across the side of his torso, the scar so thin and faded, you thought it was from a surgery before the outbreak. You nod.

“Tommy stitched that one.”

“Damn,” your eyes flicker to him. “I can hardly stitch someone up that nicely.”

“Luck,” Tommy shrugs.

“Skill,” you correct.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Maria jabs her husband with her index finger.

“Ow! Have not-“ Tommy says, but Joel is tugging you away from them before you can gather the rest of their argument. His deep chuckle settles in your ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Takin my woman for a spin on the dance floor. What does it look like?” He grins, guiding you into the sea of dancers in the middle of the floor.

You suppose you should hate it when he calls you his “woman.” There was always something about it in the world before that felt derogatory, like men were trying to claim women as property, reducing them to a single component. It sounds cliche you know, but it’s not like that when Joel says it.

You don’t have a title on your relationship. For you, to be called his in any capacity is an honor, just as he’s yours. Your partner, your co parent, your lover, all of those and more encompassed into the title “your man” and “his woman”

My Girl plays over the record player bringing a smile to your lips. The first of many songs you and Joel danced to both in the public eye and the quiet of your home.

He smiles down at you, eyes shining in deep, dark pools under the flicker of the lights strung from the rafters. You're drawn back to that first dance, the one you almost skipped out of but your feet carried to anyway. The way he held you. Kissed you, claimed you in front of Jackson without fear of the future even when you couldn’t do the same for him. Yet he stuck with you, waited for you

Moisture gathers in your eyes as you lay your head on his chest as he rocks back and forth.

“I know, Sweetheart.”

Your chest tightens with love for him. It’s not scary anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.

Willa runs into your legs, demanding a turn with Joel before the song is halfway over. You oblige as Joel picks her up. She laughs, arms tightening around his shoulders. You watch them from the sidelines, wishing you had a camera to capture the identical smiles on their faces, the curls that fall on their foreheads, Willa’s fairy wings, Joel’s broad shoulders. It’s a perfect moment. A slice of heaven on earth you think.

Willa insists on a second song since they didn’t get a full one the first time. Carter dances a two step with you, his smile beaming the whole time as he masters the steps. Tommy pulls you out at some point- spinning you until you’re so dizzy you need to sit down. He finds it funny.

The air buzzes with electricity throughout the whole night as you let your kids run around on their own accord in games of tag, sardines, hide and seek, and whatever else their brains concoct.

It takes some time before Joel tracks you down again, pulling you away mid conversation with Rachel and Lindsey. He’s not the least bit remorseful.

“You're in high demand tonight. I didn’t have another choice.” He winks at you as the music slows to a soft instrumental.

“Did I protest?”

He laughs, placing his lips firmly on yours. “I love you.”

You can’t help the smile that appears every time he says it. You settle against him, letting the soft music settle over your bones. “I love you too.”

You don’t speak for another minute, too wrapped up in him, listening to the steady thrum of his heart beating in time with yours.

You catch Ellie and Dina on the dance floor together. There’s an extra reach in your smile. They’re out of your sight when Dina kisses Ellie. Then, Joel’s muscles tighten around you.

Your brow furrows as your head lifts. “What is it?”

Joel doesn’t respond, eyes locked straight ahead. You know that look and follow it straight to Ellie and Dina and Seth. Your stomach drops

Dina says something, a smile on her face before it fades and she walks away, Ellie’s hand in hers.

“Remember next time there’s kids around,” Seth calls after them.

Joel tugs you behind him. You catch the vein in his neck popping out. He's ready to pounce, to protect Ellie at the first sight of danger.

“Yeah cause you’re setting such a great example,” Dina retorts as she heads for the door.

“Just what this town needs, another loud mouth dyke!”

It cuts through the room like a knife, drawing others’ attention.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ellie spins on her heels, heading straight for Seth. Dina fights to hold her back, but it’s useless.

“Hey!” Joel surges forward, pushing Seth backward. “Get the hell outta here!”

“Get your hands off of me!” Seth shouts back.

Maria and Tommy rush toward the commotion as Maria steps between the two men.

There’s a soft thud and the firm pressure of two small hands against the back of your thighs. You twist around, finding a mop of dark hair and eyes to match staring wide eyed at the scene unfolding before you. You run your hand over Willa’s head, encouraging her to keep behind you as Maria and Tommy usher Seth out of the Tipsy Bison.

Then your eyes follow Joel. He’s not coming back toward you, but toward Ellie. You barely manage to keep the cringe at bay. Not here, you plead internally.

“You alright, Kiddo?”

“What is wrong with you?”

Some people have the decency to turn their heads, to act as if they aren’t listening in. Others just gawk, trying to glean any answers they can from the cold shoulder Ellie has given Joel over the last few years.

“He had no right-”

“And you do?” Ellie asks, anger shaking her words. “I don’t need your fucking help, Joel.”

Joel’s eyes cut from hers, finding yours in the small crowd. You see the way it stings in his eyes, and then he looks away from you both as he slowly eases backward.

“Right…” He says, so quiet you barely make it out as Joel turns away, walking out of the building on display for everyone to see. The door slams shut behind him, ushering in a cool gust of wind.

Pairs of eyes flash to Ellie. Some find you. There are a few mumbles exchanged between people, but they quickly die down as the music turns up and people return to their own lives. Your eyes find Ellie’s as people begin to fill in the dance floor once more. She seems more vulnerable now, more like the young teen you remember. The one who put on a big front, but wore her emotions so clearly on her face.

“Mommy?” Willa tugs at your shirt. “Why were Ellie and Daddy yelling at each other?”

You snap around, picking her up, the fairy wings she wears making it more difficult. “People fight sometimes.”

She seems to contemplate the words, her forehead crinkling with consternation, like she’s trying to remember all the fights she’s ever witnessed. It tips your lips upward. She looks so much like Joel when she does that. Sarah used to make a similar face.

“You fight with Carter and Elias sometimes.”

She sighs exasperatedly, pushing her hair out of her face. She’s so much sass and thought wrapped into a tiny package. “Yeah, but they ‘noy me.”

You laugh this time, kissing her head. Ellie and Dina are gone when you look toward where they were. Willa yawns, laying her head on your shoulder. You suppose it’s time to go home anyway.

You pull Carter away from a game of marbles happening in the corner much to his dismay, but he's all too proud to show you the new green one he won tonight on the way home.

Joel sits on the front porch, cup of coffee steaming in his owl mug. He still uses the one you got him for his birthday, but try as you might, you can’t make the damn owl disappear. Nonetheless, it’s reassuring to find him in such a natural position after tonight. To find him waiting for you, for his family, to come home. Carter rushes ahead, eager to show off his new possession. Joel listens to him with rapt attention.

Willa wiggles in your arms, sliding down to the ground and rushing for the front porch, no doubt jealous of the attention her older brother is receiving. Joel pulls her into his lap, eyes never diverting from Carter. It amazes you how easily it comes to him, balancing both of their needs for attention, making them feel so seen and loved at the same time.

You hang out at the edge of the front porch, back resting against the railing simply observing. Joel glances up at you, offering a brief wink before he’s pulled back in by Carter. He lets it go on for a few minutes before reminding both children that it’s time to get ready for bed.

A chorus of groans fills your porch. You push back a smile. It’s endearing tonight. It isn’t always.

“Get it done and we’ll have time for a bedtime story,” Joel says.

“And a song?” Willa asks.

“Only if you’re snappy.”

It’s a bold face lie and you both know it. All Willa has to do is ask, and Joel is humming opening measures, but it works nonetheless. Both kids are racing inside. He eases up, staking over to you. An arm wraps around your waist, tugging you closer. His breath is warm across your face in the cold of the winter night. He kisses you, soft but possessive, like he needs to assure himself you’re still here. That you’re not going anywhere.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “Later. We got kids to put to bed.”

He presses another kiss to your lips and then you’re both inside, ensconced in the bedtime routine. The four of you settle on the couch, a kid tucked into both of his sides, story book in hand. Reading glasses rest on Joel’s nose. Something you had admittedly teased him about. Old Man, you had called him more than once, but you like them.

Willa falls asleep before the last page. It doesn’t keep Joel from singing her a song when he tucks her into bed. His stripped version of Monday Morning drifts down the hallway HIs voice accompanied by Willa’s. Then he goes to Carter’s room. You catch a few words spoken between them, but can’t make them out. He sings to Carter. It makes you smile as you top off Joel’s coffee mug, the owl one. You hold the routine, the peace near. You doubt Carter has many bedtime serenades left before he decides he’s too old for them.

When he comes out, Joel tucks his head into your neck. “Sit outside with me?”

“It’s freezing.”

“Please?” He kisses your neck softly. “I’ll keep you warm. Wrap you tight in a blanket. The wind ain’t bad tonight.” He tugs you closer and you sigh, knowing you’ve lost the fight already.

“Fine, I’ll grab my jacket.”

You sit next to Joel on the porch swing as he plucks at the strings of his guitar, gleaning whatever body heat you can from him. His cup of coffee warms your hands. You turn the owl so it faces outward. The porch light casts a bluish hue over you. He still hasn’t said anything about tonight, hasn’t opened his mouth, but he continues pulling a melody from the instrument on his lap.

You enjoy the moment for what it is. You take a single sip of his coffee, the substance bitter in your mouth as your eyes drift shut, head resting on Joel’s shoulder. There’s no pressure to say anything. You can just exist with each other in the freezing winter. It’s more than enough.

The guitar rings, but Joel stops playing, body easing forward. “Hey…” He says.

Your eyes open as he sets the guitar aside. Ellie stands at the opposing end of your porch, eyes focused on Joel. You sense their silent exchange, a long pause before either looks away. Ellie gives it another second before moving forward, resting her hands on the bannister. You immediately feel like an intruder. You’re not meant to be here for this.

You lean over to Joel, kissing his cheek, handing him his mug without another word. You reach out, squeezing Ellie’s shoulder lightly as you pass by. She gives you a tight lipped smile. The front door clicks softly behind you, giving them their privacy,

Joel stands, cautiously joining her as the railing.

“What’re you drinking?”

He lets out a little huff. “Coffee.”

Ellie watches him as she tries to think of her next words, formulating what she wants to say to him, what’s been building inside of her over the last several years. She’d held on to it for so long, and it’s all led her here. “Where’d you get that?”

“Those people who came through last week.” Another awkward pause. “A little embarrassed as to what I had to trade to get it, but…” he pulls the mug to his lips. “It’s not bad.”

Ellie looks out, studying her house across the street. Joel follows suit, allowing her to direct things. Let her take the lead, it rings in his head. Sounds like you even.

Joel focuses on his coffee mug, The steam that rises and dances up toward the sky until it disappears in thin wisps never to be seen again. The fog of his breathing joins it from time to time, creating a new dance, intertwining with each other only to separate.

“I had Seth under control.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you need to stop harassing Jesse about my patrols.” She stands up straighter, looking at Joel as she gains her confidence back.

He nods, keeping his focus on his mug. “Okay.”

Ellie shuffles a bit, trying to decide if she’s going to leave it there or push. She expects more from Joel. She wants more from Joel.

“Dina… is she your girlfriend?”

Ellie’s mind races. She shifts more thinking through her response. “No.” She shakes her head. Finally, Joel looks her way. Ellie’s eyes are all squinted up. “No, she- that was just one kiss. It doesn’t mean anything. She just- I don’t know why she did that.”

“But you do like her.”

Ellie takes a deep breath, trying to work through it all in her mind. She feels silly over it all. Looking away, she almost buries her head in her shoulder as tears well in her eyes. “I’m so stupid.”

Joel feels the fatherly instincts kicking in right away, “Look, I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are, but I do know that she would be lucky to have you.”

Ellie can barely get through his words, choking back the tears that form in her eyes. “You’re such an asshole.” It comes out almost like a whisper.

“I’m not trying-”

“I was supposed to die in that hospital,” Ellie says, hand hitting the railing. “My life would have fucking mattered, but you took that from me!” She looks down at her feet, trying to reign in her emotions.

Joel says nothing, racking his brain for the right words to say. All this time, and they still didn’t exist, but he knows he wants to stop her pain.

Joel eases up, straightening his back. The mug settles atop the banister as he inhales deeply. “If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment…” He thinks through his words, wonders if there's a better way to say it. “I would do it all over again.” He meets her eyes, determination set in his.

Ellie doesn’t move, just lets it sink in. Her face softs almost and then a flash of annoyance, acceptance maybe as he catches tears glistening in her brown eyes. She gives a slight nod, rocking back and forth, trying to figure out if she can actually do this. “Yeah…” The words are a tangle in her head, will and want at war with each other. “I just… I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

Joel eases back against the banister, feeling as if she’s slipping through his grasp again, as if he hadn’t known those words would keep her at bay, floating around his orbit but never in it.

Ellie contemplates her words. She reconciles her feelings. She misses him too. “But… I would like to try.” Her face twists up as she fights the tears.

Moisture instantly pools in Joel’s eyes, emotions over taking him. He doesn’t like to show this side, he rarely does, but the relief that washes over his body is all consuming. He thought he’d lost her for good, and now here she is telling him she wants to try. She wants to forgive him. That’s enough for him, more than enough, and more than he deserves.

Ellie lets out a long breath, tension easing from her body, like a weight was lifted, extracted from her. She feels lighter.

“I’d like that,” Joel says, getting caught up on the words.

They both nod slightly, almost in unison, like they actually share genetics.

“Okay,” Ellie says, almost like she doesn’t know where to go from here. She rocks back on her heels, catches Joel’s profile in the light. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yep.”

Joel clears his throat as Ellie turns to leave.

She’s at the bottom of the steps before he manages to pull it out. It’s not overly affectionate or loud, but it’s warm, solid. “I love you, Kiddo.”

She turns, surprised. There’s a brief uptick in her tightly drawn lips, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “You too, Old Timer.”

You’re half asleep when Joe crawls into bed next to you. You let out a soft sigh, hand falling to his chest. “How’d it go?” you ask, eyes opening to mere slivers.

Joel kisses your head. “Said she wants to try to forgive me.”

A sleepy smile finds your face. “Good.”

Joel chuckles, kissing your head. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

You smile. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

You let out a soft sigh, letting sleep take you under.

Joel lays awake that night, staring up at the ceiling, hand tucked under his head. His body is weary from the night, the dance, is confrontation with Seth and Ellie. He feels the ache of his 63 years in his joints, his back, but nothing covers up the deep seeded contentness that settles over him.

He turns his head to look at you, fast asleep on your side facing him. You’re not quite tucked into him, arms and legs pressing against him. The exchange of body heat beneath the sheets is enough to stave off the winter chill. His lips tip upward.

He’s happy, undeniably so. Here with you next to his side. With the knowledge that Ellie wants to forgive him. With His two other children sound asleep in their rooms, tucked into beds where they feel safe.

He pulls his hand from under his head, tracing the soft lines of your face, the bow of your top lip with his fingertips. You bristle softly, like his touch tickles, but you don’t stir. Joel knows you’re out for the night.

He kisses your cheek, takes your free hand in his and kisses your knuckles before placing it over his beating heart, your hand sandwiched between his chest and palm. He should go to sleep. He has an early patrol with Tommy in the morning, but his mind buzzes with a quiet joy, keeping his eyes wide open. So he lays there, intent on memorizing the sound of your soft breathing, the warmth of your hand on him, and all the other little moments that lead him to this place in time.

It’s some time before sleep tugs him under, but his eyes flutter shut with you in his periphery, lulled to sleep with the assurance he’s where he’s supposed to be.

Tag List: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

#joel miller #Woman (Joel miller)#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories #pedro pascal

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leonw4nter · 4 months ago

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hello ! i REALLY love your writing style !! 💘 i was wondering if i could request a leon fic where it is set in medieval times. i was thinking about where the reader and leon was on a romantic boat ride? the one just like from the movie tangled where flynn and rapunzel decided to take a boat ride under the flying lanterns? i think it would be too cute for that kind of scenario ❤️ ty!!

I See The Light

Knight!RE4R!Leon x GN!Reader AU

Leon trades his usual day of training and standing on his guard’s post for a scene of music and flowers alongside you, strolling along tree-lined streets as he holds your hand; the gentle pressure of his calloused fingers against your knuckles is a grounding sensation, keeping you anchored to this shared moment of peace with your lover. The subtle squeeze of his palms encasing your hand sent waves of reassurance that he will be here to stay for the years to come, to endure the passing of time alongside you. He hears your twinkling voice, practically seeing a small smile in your lips as you discuss what it could possibly feel like if one could float; your eyes were squinted and sparkly, like sun-lit waters of a relatively calm ocean; each gust of a breath expelled with every laugh of yours causes his heart to feel as if the wind lifts it closer to heaven. He nods to your words, the rest of the world fading away the more he listens to you. How funny that you rambled on and on about wanting to float, to feel the wind push your hair back for you as you felt the sky on the tips of your fingers, and Leon could describe the overwhelming sensation you trigger from him as floating; floating, but not drifting away from you. Your presence wields an imperceivable, powerful force that links him to you as the world around him swirls in a blur of greens, blues, pinks, and browns yet he is fixated on you and you alone. He cannot deny the force of his physical attraction towards you but you have given him a chance to peer beyond every smile and frown, to swim in the vast ocean of your dreams and fears; that is more than enough to captivate him fully, more than any external charm.

Your rambling had halted, much to Leon’s slight disappointment, when the purple and yellow banners overhead came into view. Just like the banners, everything else was in purple and yellow, adorned with an intricate illustration of the kingdom’s sun emblem. The children’s laughter and songs breathed life into the air of the festivity, hands dirtied with colorful chalks as they doodled on the stony ground while some played or braided hair. The center of the village is a marvel of pansies and zinnias as butterflies flit from one blossom to another, wings shimmering as iridescent film catches the sun’s golden ray. Stalls were overflowing with daffodils, daisies, and sunflowers; archways and trellis were hung with garlands of wisteria; flower crowns of various flora adorned the heads of villagers. The perfume-like fragrances of the flowers mingled with the cool air to a degree that did not overwhelm one’s sense of smell. Decorated carts peddled sweet and savory treats for cheap, some of them followed by long lines of patrons eager to have a bite. Leon sniffed a whiff of cinnamon and apples in the air, eyes immediately scanning the crowd for the source of the delightful aroma; he knew you liked apple pastries or any treat with apples and he intended on giving you just that. Spotting a small cart run by some children, he squeezed your hand to get your attention.

“My dove, how does an apple and cinnamon fritter sound?” He softly asks with an eager smile.

You light up at the proposition of a snack, forgetting the call of your empty stomach pleading for a meal; you were far too busy admiring the sights around you… maybe also distracted by the work of art whose hand is entwined with yours, stealing momentary glances when his eyes were not fixated on you.

“It sounds perfect,” you breathed. “Where are you going to get it?”

He gestures to the small stall up ahead; a wooden cart with large red wheels, the faded red paint chipping away to reveal the wood it concealed. Child-like doodles of apples and small brown lumps adorn the body of the cart.

“There,” he says. You nod and he leads the way, occasionally looking back at you to check if you’re still trailing behind him.

While his gaze is trained elsewhere aside from you (a rare instance for this day), you take the time to admire the back of your mon nounours. He stood tall and imposing, exuding an aura of strength and resiliency despite having shed the silver plate of armor he is usually spotted donning; his blond hair reflected the almost-setting sun, casting a sheen that can be likened to a halo. The fit of his black tunic accentuated the ripples and lines of his back, muscles earned through several years of rigorous training and exercise. His vest accentuated the tapering of his waist, a perfect curve meant for your hands to perch upon. The fabric of his garments moved with him in each step, revealing the confidence and fluidity of a skilled knight even without protective metal plates. Soon, you two stand in front of the humble stall. You admire the array of different apple snacks besides the fritters you set your sights on– apple tarts, small apple cakes, apple pies, and apple bread.

“How much will 6 of the apple fritters cost?” He asks, a hand reaching for a pouch he kept on the inside of his vest.

A little girl hops off of the small stool she sat on, attending to Leon’s query. “It’ll be 6 silver pennies.”

“I’ll have 6 of those then,” he decides. You’ve shifted your hold on him, a hand now linked near the crook of his arm.

The slightly stronger cooling wind swept Leon’s dirty blond fringe, tresses slowly resembling a bird’s nest atop his head. Flowers swayed delicately like dances in colorful skirts and eccentric hats; trees and grass rustle softly, a soothing symphony harmonizing with the whispers of the wind. The blond knight beside you kept a hand over his hair, strands now tousled into a disarray.

The child takes the steamier fritters and places them inside a small pouch, counting and making sure to choose the best and tastiest-looking ones. She finishes up, standing on her tiptoes to hand your lover the treat, while Leon places his fees on her tiny palm. She giggles, gaze occasionally glancing at his hair. You pick up on this, bending down to the kid’s level with a wicked grin.

“There is a wildness to his hair, right?” you quietly ask before she nods in agreement.

“It resembles a lion’s windswept mane,” she added with a grin. Leon huffed, trying to flatten the disarrayed tangle.

“I think it’s alright, my love. Do you not like it when my hair is this way?” Leon asked, a little self-conscious now.

“Yes, I do love it mon nounours. You look less… standoffish. Less unapproachable. But I take it that it bothers you slightly.”

He nods, a silent affirmation to your statement of his hair slightly bothering him. Thinner strands have already poked his eye, causing them to slightly water.

“My sisters and I know how to weave crowns like those,” the little shop girl gestures to the passersby with crowns of flora. “We can weave you one quickly to keep your hair away from your face. We will not charge.”

Your face lights up at the proposition, tugging on Leon’s arm a little tighter now. He looks a little embarrassed, looking elsewhere as a burst of pink manifests itself on the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You give him a pleading look, pushing your bottom lip into an exaggerated pout.

“Love, please? It sounds lovely, we can properly blend in with the rest of the kingdom! You will look lovely, I assure you. And besides, don’t the little girls sound adorable?”

Leon sighs, looking down at the small bag of pastry in his other hand. He worries about being spotted in town by a fellow knight, expecting a tirade of teasing to be flung his way when he gets back to the barracks but he knows that he is the least of his concerns, your happiness and well-being going first and foremost before his own. His stoic demeanor betrayed his inner turmoil, an icky guilt seeping into his heart at the mere thought of turning down this opportunity. Why he spared a thought or spent a moment to ponder over something silly, he’s not so sure when ever since, your heart and prosperity the only priority to the knight. With a faint sigh, he agrees.

“All right,” he says in a voice you can pick up. “The girls can weave a flower crown for me.” He sits on a slightly elevated surface right by the stall.

The little girl squeals, clasping her hands before she opens a small satchel full of vibrant flowers. “Let me find my sisters, my lord and lady. I will be back!”

You nod, watching her run with a pep to her step as she called for her siblings. A chuckle makes its way out of his lips, running his fingers through white gold locks. You stand beside him, reaching for the pouch of snacks in his free hand.

“I’ll hold this one while they work their magic on you, my lord.”

He mumbles a quiet thank you, pulling you in closer by your waist. You remain standing beside him while he sits, an arm snaked around your waist as he rests his head on your hip.

“You’d better eat your snack now, my dove. They’re best warm,” he reminds you as he motions to the pouch in your hand.

“I can wait for a little longer,” you respond as you rest a hand on the base of his head and gently scratch his scalp. If he could purr, he would’ve done so by now. “And I must correct you: these are not just best consumed warm.”

He looks up for a moment, a light confusion on his features before he rests his head against your hip again. “Why do you say so?”

“Because meals like these, comforting and delicious meals, are also best enjoyed with someone dear.”

You can’t see it but you know the ghost of a smile lingers on Leon’s lips, threatening to tug on the corner of his lips a little higher. He makes a mental note to pencil down your words on his pocket notebook, like he always did whenever you said something that deeply resonated with him. The approaching laughter of little children drew nearer, three little girls carrying either satchels or a small bucket of flowers. Leon sits back up, clearing his throat.

“My lord, feel free to select which flowers you’d like on your head. Your fair lady may assist you if you are in need of it,” the eldest tells him.

Rice flower, jasmine, wax flower, amaranthus; what will he select?

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The minutes flew by fast as if they were mere seconds, a securely woven crown of pink, purple, and white flowers now laying atop of his golden tresses; the children had pushed longer strands of his hair back, securing them in place with the flower accessory so that Leon wouldn’t have to constantly flatten the puff atop his head. The eldest sister of the adorable trio takes out a mirror from her satchel and gives it to the blond so he can see the work they’ve done on his hair.

“It looks… magnificent,” he breathes. “Magical, even. Thank you very much, girls. This gesture is very much appreciated.”

You feel warmth creep in from the base of your neck and crawling to your cheeks, tingling from the grin you currently sport. The crown of various flora add a tenderness to his otherwise rugged appearance, adding an element reminiscent of cherubs depicted on oil paintings.

“You’re welcome, kind sir. We hope you enjoy our treat and the festival,” the middle child speaks up as she clears up the excess trimmings and leaves. “Feel free to come back to us if need be!”

“We will,” you promise as you relink arms with your lover again before turning your backs to walk on with the rest of the crowd. The sun is sinking beneath the great blue vastness as a rosy and orange hue stretched on the sky, it’s only a matter of minutes until total darkness befalls the kingdom and the time to set the lanterns free comes around.

You were enchanted with the comforting glow of candles begin to light the streets up, delicate flickers of golden dancing on tall sticks of wax so Leon’s tug through the bustling crowd shocked you a little bit. You squeezed his hand in response to the suddenness of his actions, wanting to tell him that you found his movements abrupt.

“I apologize, my dove.” He says as he momentarily turns around to face you. “It is almost time to wish on lanterns and let them float to the sky. I wish to get our lanterns a little earlier because there is something I need to do.”

Not “want” to do but need to do. His choice of words intrigues you.

After mumbling a few apologies and excuses to the crowd slowly growing more dense in festival goers, you two finally get to one of the stalls selling their lanterns. There were all sorts of lanterns and the kinds of candles they had– some were shaped like circles, some like cylinders; some of the paper used was plain and simple while others had doodles of various things like animals or simply little scribbles of circles. There were candles that had thicker wax and longer wicks, candles with scented wax, and candles with wicks infused with a substance to cause the fire to burn warmer and brighter. After selecting the lantern you both desired, you two paid with a hefty sum of copper coins.

“Leon, that’s not the path to the sea wall,” you point out as you realize that he’s no longer right behind you. “We’re supposed to walk past the stall we purchased from.”

“Yes, I know. I will take you elsewhere,” he explains. He looks a little nervous now, a finger fidgeting with the edge of the lantern paper as he shifts from one foot to the other. “I know a better place if- if that’s alright with you, love.”

You nod, following him. “It’s more than fine with me. Take me to where we need to be, mon nounours.”

Kindly taking your hand, you two begin to walk away from the growing number of people heading to the seawall. You’re not very familiar with where he’s taking you but you trust him enough to know what he’s doing, happily trailing behind him as he lights the path with the glow of your lanterns.

“Don’t let go of these, alright? It would take quite some time until we get another lantern back at the square.”

It takes less than 10 minutes until you two reach the edge of the river, right at the shore. By now, the sun had completely descended beneath the waves and let the stars take the great wide stage in the heavens above.

“Kindly hold this for me,” he instructs you as he hands you his lantern. You hold both of your lanterns, watching Leon as he bends over to the protrusion hidden in a tree near the waterside. Fingers curl around a dusty fabric and lift it off, setting it down beside a small brown boat complete with a rope, small anchor, and oars. It dawns on you what this is all about; he will take you on a boat ride and celebrate the festival down the river with him. Your heart leaps and drums against your ribs, pulse pounding against your neck.

“You may get inside now..”

You raise your garments above your ankles with one hand as the other holds lanterns, stepping inside the boat. Leon pushes the boat, undocking it from the shoreline and before the boat drifts out too far into the water, he joins you.

“Look up at the sky, love.” He instructs you with a glimmer in his eyes, the silver circle of the moon reflected in arctic cerulean irises.

You do so and you are greeted by a wondrous sight, the kind of view that you were certain could only be depicted in intricate oil paintings that hung in long winding halls of the palace you called your home. Drifting along the tranquil river, the lanterns begin to rise and light up the void sky. They gradually begin to drift further away from the ground, becoming stars in the sky now painted with the hopes and wishes of the people. Each golden orb flickering reflected on the gentle ripples of water, creating a mesmerizing waltz of shadows and illumination. The hushed splish splash of water harmonized with the wind blowing against your ears and the rustling of foliage, setting the perfect musical score in this dream-like moment. More lanterns continued to join the others in the sky, the wind directing them to another point in the sky like a captain to his ship; the peace that came with the festival bathed over the kingdom in a dream-like ambience.

“They’re all so beautiful,” you whisper. “I feel… light, at peace. Calm.”

What you did to his heart is sheer, inexplicable magic.

“Yes,” he agreed softly. “They really are beautiful.” His head was not even craned upwards when he uttered those words, his gaze locked on you.

After a few moments of silent observation, you poke him on his arm as you gesture to the lanterns still with you.

“Of course,” he says with a sheepish smile as he takes his.

“Don’t forget to make a wish,” you remind him before you close your eyes and silently thank the universe for everything good– prosperity in your kingdom, good health, and Leon.

He closes his eyes too and wishes upon every single lantern and star in the sky that the universe would lead you to where you will be happiest in, even if it’s not with him. With a breath of anticipation, both of your hands release the glowing lanterns and watch it gracefully ascend as it carries shared dreams into the expanse of darkness. The world seems to have paused as Leon locked eyes with you, all his wishes and greatest dreams reflected in the twinkle of your gaze.

“I love you, my greatest dream.” The blond says as he takes your hand and envelopes them with his own. “I confess once again, with all the fervor in my lowly heart, that I am and will always be yours to keep. I am yours, now and forever, but only if you will choose to have me.”

You smile and lift your conjoined hands, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of his knuckles. Training must have been harsh the other day, a flushed soreness on the peaks of his knuckle bones could be seen when his fingers are curled.

“My most cherished knight and precious lover, I yearn to spend every moment in your presence and adore you as you so richly deserve. My grief will truly be beyond measure if I cannot have you in my life; the tides are nothing without the moon to beckon them.”

His normally composed demeanor softens, revealing a vulnerable and sensitive man that you are lucky to see. The angular lines of his face gave way to a loopy smile as his cheeks were tinted faint pink, a manifestation of his shy affection.

“I am but a humble palace guard, my thane. You speak of high praises that I believe I am not yet worthy of.”

You withdraw one hand from his to cup his cheek, thumb skimming over his cheekbone. He nuzzles into your touch, craving for more of your pillowy touch.

“No need to be shy when you’re with me, Leon.”

“Ah– yes, of course. I just… to me, to be in your company is to feel a profound contentment. Nothing else matters except for you.”

You chuckle, glowing with the sincerity of his words. Who knew that a scary, stoic man like him could be capable of such poetic compositions.

The itch to feel his lips against yours is an itch you can scarcely endure so your hand leaves Leon’s cheek to bunch the fabric on his vest, tugging him closer to yourself. His breath catches on his throat, inky pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes like a void.

“Stop me if I am pushing things.”

You begin with a kiss to both his cheeks, then the tip of his nose then the corners of his lips. You look into his eyes to spot any hesitation or discomfort, not wanting to make him feel dirty.

“Do you want this the same way I do?” you ask with lidded yet cautious eyes.

“I want this unfathomably more than you do.”

His left hand settles on the base of your head, fingers combed through your hair as his right hand settles on your hip, not resting the entirety of its weight even though you won’t scold him if he did; he just wants to be careful. The final tug propels him forward to you, his lips landing on yours.

Just with your lips you could feel Leon tense up and freeze before relaxing into the gesture, tilting his head at a slight angle so his nose wouldn’t obstruct your way. His eyebrows scrunch in focus, feeling you and only you and the comforting embrace of your warm lips against him. If there could be a moment that he can revisit and experience for the first time, it would be the first kiss he shared with you by the garden wall as he stood on a wobbling wooden ladder. Every nerve was lit with an electric thrill that gave you courage to deepen the kiss, fueled by the need to worship this part of your lover. His hands traveled from your hip to the small of your back, wanting to usher your closer to him without parting lips for even a second. Air was overrated in that moment, breathing expertly cycled to prolong this magical moment. It grew more fervent, crazed and drunk on devotion; you gave him a light nip on his puffy bottom lip, eliciting a soft sigh that fanned warm breath on your parted lips. Finally you pull away, breathing heavily and catching your breath as you rest your warm forehead against his, post-kiss. You hear Leon chuckling as he cupped your face and you find yourself following suit.

“That was,” he breathily whispers. “Spellbinding.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Leon pulls back, readjusting his clothes and trying to smooth the hair on the back of his head that your grip might’ve ruffled. You fix yourself too, feeling the puffiness of your lips by the tips of your fingers. You look relatively well-kept together so you help Leon in trying to look less frazzled and flustered, readjusting the flower crown that had become tilted.

“We should probably head back,” your lover says, sounding almost disappointed.

“You are not even trying to hide your discontent, mon nounours. It’s charming.” You smirk.

“I think that it is a shame that this evening feels too hasty for such an enthralling event,” he mumbles. “The King and Queen Mother will worry for you and it is for the best that we make our way back to avoid a talking-to.”

His hands find the oars, steering the boat back to the direction of the shore. You can see the disappointment on his face but he does his best to veil it, to avoid dampening your feelings. You place a hand on one of the oars, interrupting his movements.

“I have informed my mother and father that they shall expect me to return late,” you tell him and he almost can’t believe it. “Earlier this afternoon, before you came to pick me up for our afternoon escapade, I advised my parents to expect my delayed arrival at around the wee hours of the morning. They protested but I responded that I am capable of making my own decisions and defending myself, as well as that I will be in the company of a trusted official in the royal court. You have proven yourself worthy of spending time around me countless times and I do not hesitate to extend my hours of–”

Leon hastily envelopes you with a tight embrace, rocking the boat and rippling the surface of the velvet surface of the river. He sways your bodies side to side and you can feel a wide beam right by your cheek, pleased that Leon doesn’t have to mope about wishing to spend the night with you.

NOTE - 3 nights of sobbing over a book and sleeping at 3-4 AM resulted to a cold, which pushed back my original posting schedule <3 I'm okay now, still got a cold, but less tired and crusty-feeling compared to a day ago. Thank you to the lovelies who filled my inbox with requests and don't worry, I'll get around to writing them soon before school starts again. I hope the anon who requested this loves it, I'm so sorry for the delay but I hope this fic managed to live up to your expectations 🌷🌷 I'm craving a matcha roll and some sushi rn but I'm unfortunately broke so watching mukbangs and sobbing will have to do for now. Thanks to everyone who waited for me to come back from the break, I appreciate it tons!!!!!!!! I've got more fic ideas in store so I'll get to those too after finishing up requests (and they're also prolly angsty, I miss writing angst). ALSO DAWG TRUMP GOT SHOT??? LIKE IM NOT AMERICAN AND NOT FROM THAT COUNTRY BUT HELLO??? ASSASSINATIONS R SO IN AGAIN???? And I saw Leon edits to Trump getting shot too like 😭😭 It's funny ngl... like ik my goat wouldn't miss (JKJK DONT GO AFTER ME PLS THIS IS A JOKE!!!). Anyways, that's it and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <333333333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The space dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

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bytevamp · 9 months ago

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all of the mlp infection AUs i've seen floating around reawakened the sleeping horsegirl deep within my soul so of course i had to draw ponies about it (and watch all of mlp:fim but thats neither here nor there LOL) big ID incoming!

[ID: the first six drawings depict the "mane six" from my little pony; friendship is magic. in order, rarity, applejack, pinkie pie, fluttershy, rainbow dash, and twilight sparkle. all of them are posed in slight variants of facing left and holding their far front leg up. the seventh image is all of the previous drawings layered onto one long canvas to compare the heights of the characters.

rarity is a light bluish-white unicorn with a dark bluish-purple mane that is voluminous and curled. she is drawn like a classical unicorn, with a long tail and a tuft of tail hair that is the same as her mane at the end, as well as a small beard and cloven hooves. her eyes are blue and heavily lidded, with light blue eye-shadow. her cutie mark is three light-blue diamond-shaped gems surrounded by blue sparkles. the center gem has a heart facet in the middle.

applejack is a stocky burnt-orange and brown earth pony drawn to resemble a clydesdale horse. she has a light blonde mane and tail, both of which are shortly cropped, and her tail is wrapped in red fabric at its base. she is drawn with appaloosa markings and a white blaze on her nose. she is wearing her signature cowboy hat and a yellow-green bandana with paisley patterning. her eyes are green and she has a determined expression. her cutie mark is a trio of apples; one red, one green, and one a lighter yellow-green. the red apple has a heart shape cut into it.

pinkie pie is a small and stocky pink earth pony drawn to resemble a miniature horse. her mane and tail are curly and textured and have streaks of light pink through the base magenta color. her mane is tied up into a ponytail. she is smiling brightly and has a visible tooth gap. her body is covered in lighter pink piebald markings. she is wearing a party hat that is yellow with pink polkadots and a teal pom-pom. her eyes are teal. her cutie mark is a trio of balloons surrounded by confetti; a pink heart, a teal balloon, and a yellow star.

fluttershy is a smaller light-yellow pegasus, who is drawn to appear feathered. she has small round wings that are spread outwards. her legs, chest, face, and wings all have white markings. her mane and tail are long and slightly wavy and a peachy-pink color. her eyes are a deep blue and she has a shy expression. her cutie mark is a trio of butterflies; one has blue wings and a dark pink body, one has light pink wings with dark pink heart markings and a blue body, and the last has light blue wings and a light pink body.

rainbow dash is an athletically built light teal pegasus, who is drawn to appear feathered. she has longer, narrower wings with barred feathers that are spread outwards. her legs, belly, chest, face, and wings all have white markings. her mane and tail are warm-toned rainbow, with her mane styled like a mullet and her tail cropped short. her eyes are dark magenta and she has a relaxed confident expression. her cutie mark is a storm cloud with a large lightning bolt with warm-toned light primary colors. the storm cloud has a heart shape drawn into it.

twilight sparkle is a blue-purple alicorn drawn like a classical unicorn. she has a dark blue-purple mane that is tied into a sort of messy bun with two long locks of hair left to hang freely on the sides of her face. her mane and tail are streaked with peachy-pink and golden yellow colors resembling those found in a sunset. she has large outspread wings similar to an eagle. she has a star-shaped white marking on her face and light dapple markings covering her body. she is wearing round gold glasses and her eyes are a deep purple. she is smiling and has a friendly expression. her cutie mark is a dark pink six pointed star rendered to resemble a nautical star with a light pink heart in the center. it has small golden yellow points emanating from the inner corners of the star and is surrounded by small light pink six-pointed stars.

end ID.]

#my art #whoof thats a doozy of a description i hope i did that right ^^;;#a lott of thought went into these designs but it's long enough as is with the ID so if u wanna know more. ask me :3 #MLP #described art

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peachdues · 1 year ago

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Tell Me to Stop — Part 2 (NSFW Kyojuro x F!Ice Hashira Reader) TEASER

Y’all have been so kind about Tell Me to Stop (or v horny for angry Kyojuro and like, fair), so I thought I’d share a little preview. No smut, but a very intimate/tense/slightly angsty flashback scene.

Read Part 1 here.

CW: 18+

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Shinobu POV)

(Flashback — 2 Months Earlier)

Dawn was still far off, but the hall of her estate was a mess.

Shinobu knew that at any moment, another group of Kakushi would be coming through the hole Rengoku had left in her wall bearing the unconscious body of the Sound Pillar, and if they did so, they’d be stumbling upon the chaotic scene that had unfolded before.

Rengoku was still on the floor, legs on either side of Y/N, who was slumped against his chest and fully exposed from the waist up.

With some satisfaction, Shinobu noted that the dark purple bruising around Y/N’s chest was clearing, a sure sign that she had chosen the correct antidote for the Flame Hashira to slam into her heart.

But her hypothermia persisted.

Rengoku, on the other hand, was beginning to breathe rather loudly, no doubt as he continued to maintain his high fever for the sake of the unmoving woman braced between his thighs.

“Rengoku,” Shinobu crouched down next to the Flame Pillar, her hand coming to a rest on his shoulder, which burned beneath her palm. “Rengoku, we need to move.”

The man lifted his head up to meet her eyes, his own glassy and unfocused. Shinobu clamped down on the swear building on her tongue — he had fever fog.

Rengoku grunted at her before his head slumped back down, chin nearly touching his chest.

Shinobu tried again. “Rengoku, we are in the open hallway of the Butterfly Mansion. Others will be arriving soon. Y/N is completed exposed.”

That seemed to get his attention. Rengoku’s head lifted, his eyes narrowed slits, but nonetheless open. He grunted in seeming acknowledgement and began to shift Y/N in his lap.

He turned the unconscious Ice Pillar so that her back rested against one arm that curled around her bare waist. His free arm slid to grip beneath her knees, shifting her into a bridal-style position to carry her.

Two of the Butterfly Mansion’s staff moved to help him stand, but Rengoku shrugged them off, surprising Shinobu as he managed to rise steadily to his feet, Y/N secured against his chest.

He looked at Shinobu expectantly and she began ushering him towards a secluded wing of the Manor, towards her private hall. Across from her personal office was a special infirmary room, walled off from the the rest of the recovery ward.

Shinobu withdrew a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the heavy, wooden door.

“You two can stay in here until her body temperature returns to normal,” She said, as Rengoku made his way towards the recovery bed.

Shinobu watched as Rengoku, still wearing his zori and uniform pants, ever so gently lowered himself and Y/N down on the bed, repeating his earlier positioning of her between his thighs. He propped up one leg slightly to keep the Ice Pillar from slumping over, her back pressed to his bare chest. Rengoku leaned against the head board so that Y/N’s head could rest against his clavicle, though it slumped instead towards her left shoulder.

Shinobu made to grab a blanket to throw over the two topless Hashira but stopped short as Rengoku moved again.

He seemed to realize that Y/N, while also still in her torn uniform pants and zori, was still bare from the waist up, her body positioned towards the door. He frowned, his hand coming up to graze the side of her arm. He flinched slightly, no doubt at the persistent chill that lingered on her skin, and he moved both of his large hands down over the back of hers as they lay limply on either side of her thighs, intertwining their fingers.

Awestruck, Shinobu watched as Rengoku brought Y/N’s arms up to cross them over her chest, locking them in place by covering her arms with his own, as though wrapping her in a sweet embrace. Shinobu knew that he’d done so to avoid touching her bare breasts himself, or at least to do so as minimally as possible, while still providing her cover. And, due to the breadth of Rengoku’s muscled forearms, Y/N’s sensitive area was almost entirely obscured from view.

Thanks to his fever, Rengoku had barely been clinging to consciousness himself. Once he was satisfied that Y/N was sufficiently hidden in his arms, his head dropped forward until his forehead came to a rest on her opposite shoulder, and he moved no more.

To the unassuming eye, it would have appeared as though the pair of Hashira were simply sleeping in an intimate embrace, rather than one desperately trying to anchor the other to life.

Shinobu moved to place the the blanket over the Pillars’ laps, before quietly exiting the private room.

“Seal this wing off entirely,” she murmured to Aoi, who had been waiting dutifully outside. “No one comes down here without my explicit permission.”

Aoi bowed to her before she ushered the other Kakushi out of the estranged wing. Faintly, Shinobu heard the arriving shouts of the group bearing the Sound Pillar. She took a single deep breath, steeling herself once more, before moving to check on her incoming patient.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

hope y’all are prepared to see more angry/angsty/needy Kyojuro in the next part!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku x y/n #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku fanfic #demon slayer rengoku #kny rengoku #rengoku smut #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny

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sumaneun-stars · 1 year ago

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'One reason to stay'

Pairing. Jungwon x fem!reader

Genre. Best friends to lovers, fluff, angst, comfort

Warnings. Mentions of suicide, reader going through depression

Synopsis. You finally broke down- in front of your crush out of all people. Sigh.

You sat atop of a large rock which lay on the many other rocks- overlooking the sea. You admired the golden tinted water which moved back and forth in steady waves, slowly swallowing the radiant sun.

The scene switched to a dark misty forest. You wore a beige flowy dress, hair tied to a half ponytail with little green accessories decorating it. You ran to the source of light a few meters away to spot a small pond which was framed by algae covered white stone benches. Small creepers which bore light purple flowers entangled with the legs of the benches, with little green butterflies fluttering their wings around them.

You opened your eyes to disappointing, depressing reality. You found yourself sitting on the carpeted floor, your head resting on one of the couch cushions. Your eyes were drained out from the number of tears which flowed out not many moments ago. Your lips were dry and your skin was pale- with dark lines circling your worn out, sleepy eyes.

The world is not a nice place to live in. It was drowning you slowly- except it didn't let you die. Assignments and homework piled up on your shoulders- and exams dropped like a boulder on your head. You didn't mind falling off a cliff considering the fact that you're dying anyways. But there was one thing which made you not want to leave.

One reason to make you stay.

You heard the faint sound of the door unlocking, thinking it was one of your friends because your phone was on silent for days.

"Y/n?" You heard a soft voice call.

You then saw the blurred figure run towards you. He knelt down to your level. "Y/n? What's wrong? Why are you so pale?" he asked- holding your face with his warm hands. You smiled at him, but your eyes told a different story. You looked down, trying to hide the redness of your face.

His eyebrows dropped, making his face show nothing but concern.

"Hey, look at me," he said, his voice lower than a whisper. He raised your head up to meet your eyes.

"I don't like it here" you mumbled through your pouting lips.

"Why?" He asked, caressing your hair in hopes to comfort you.

Your lips trembled and your eyes became teary. You dropped your head on his shoulder- and he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you. You sobbed softly into his sweater as he carried you to the couch slowly. He sat on the ground, his hand still cupping your face wiping your hot tears.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked.

You shook your head, making him whisper a tiny 'okay'.

Jungwon was your best friend, at least you were for him. Ever since you first set your eyes on his contagious smile, in the midst of about 5 to 6 people in the classroom, you fell hard. You thought it was a mere crush, until he walked up and spoke to you, lighting up your dark and misty perspective of life. Except you weren't the only girl in his life, or else that's what you thought. Silly little you, of course he likes popular girls with bright smiles and pretty faces- you remind yourself everyday. But little did you know, he felt just the same butterflies as you did when you looked at him.

After a few minutes, he brought you back to his lap, letting you sob into his shirt.

“Y/n” he started. “Life is hard, I agree. But I swear you're the strongest person I've ever seen, this'll be a piece of cake, alright?” He ended with a smile. He looked confused, and looked like he was trying so hard, making you chuckle a little.

“What? I know I'm a horrible therapist, you don't need to say it out loud” he rolled his eyes.

“Noo” you replied, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

If only you could kiss those lips, it would solve all your problems even for a little while. A boulder off your shoulders, a plaster on your wounded heart, an umbrella from the blazing sun.

He shifted a bit, before pursing his lips and humming to himself in thought. He was in a dilemma, by the looks of it. He reached out to his bag lying beside him, a tiny smile forming in his lips. He took out a lollipop, orange flavored to be specific, your favorite. You gasped. 4 years of running towards the candy section to search for the orange flavored lollipops but it was always out of the market.

“They brought it back?” You exclaimed, making him instantly laugh at your change of expression.

“Mhm” he nodded his head.

“Thank you so much!” You wrapped your arms around him, expecting to stay like that for a while before he parted the hug. It upsetted you slightly, but of course, there should be a reason for it.

“Well…” he started, scratching the back of his neck. He looked- nervous. “I'm not good with words, so I wrote it down” he said as he dug his pockets, and finally took out an unevenly folded piece of paper with a smiley face drawn on the blank side of it.

You were about to unfold it, until he took your hands in his, closing the paper back again. He smiled giddily, before taking the strap of his bag and rushing out of the room. You were left in confusion, but was soon snapped back into reality when his face appeared once again.

“I'll walk slowly so you can catch up after reading it” he said before giving you a bright smile and leaving the room.

You unfolded the piece of paper, to be met with his usual messy, ant-sized handwriting. It had ink marks in the corners of the paper, clearly showing that it was accidentally drawn while he was spinning his pen.

‘Uhh well, hi! It's me, Jungwon. Let's get right to it, shall we?

I can't really describe this, but I'll try. I used to think I knew happiness, and that smiling could only be formed intentionally, a command from my brain or heart- until I met you. Crazy, right? You didn't even smile that often at me, but I found myself giggling and smiling every time I saw you. Over time, I realized I couldn't spend a day without drifting away in thoughts about you. Daydreams and imaginary scenarios which were once starred by me and a really pretty celebrity, got replaced by me and you. You, you and you. Everything is about you. My world now revolves around you. I see you in clouds and sand, even in plain sight! Sometimes I think I'm crazy! Y/n, I'm obsessed with you. It's almost unhealthy. Every little thing you do makes my heart beat faster than the speed of light. The way your eyes turn into rainbows everytime it rains, the way you can't laugh without snorting, the way you walk like a penguin, the way you can't hold your laughter in a serious situation; they all make me feel lighter than a cloud. Y/n, I sorta, kinda, maybe, might, slightly, possibly be in love with you. No- I am in love with you.

Hurry! I might be still waiting outside, it's freezing! Hug me if you accept my heart by the way ♡’

You found yourself crying once more, not in sadness, but pure joy. Without any hesitancy, you grabbed your coat and ran out of your apartment. You ran as fast as possible towards the bakery you two shared most memories with, to find him sitting on a bench, head down and back crouched.

He raised his head up to the sound of your footsteps and panting, a smile as bright as the sun forming on his face soaked with tears. He stood up, feeling slightly dizzy from the tears shed not long ago. You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around him, tears of joy exploding into his chest. You looked up at his mixed expression.

“Were you crying?” You asked as you wiped the tears off his face, chuckling at his state.

“I was scared you wouldn't come,” he mumbled, before snuggling his head into the nape of your neck.

“But I did,” you said, your voice low.

He raised his head up, staring at you until you pressed your lips to his. His face was in pure shock, before he connected his lips with yours once again. You felt him smile into the kiss, making your heart explode into a thousand butterflies.

Funny, how a single person can lift a truck's worth of problems off another's shoulders. Your mind which was once filled with nothing but plans to leave behind your melancholic life, was paused by a single piece of paper. It was him all along, the answer to your never ending mystery of life.

Him, the one and only reason to make you stay.

End.

A/n: Comfort for us depressed/delulu hoomans<3

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gay-ppl-real · 7 months ago

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Did y'all know I have a pair of absolutely ancient jeans that I use as an embroidery canvas.

No, you didn't, because turns out I've apparently never shared my Layton or Encanto patches on here I guess??

Well, I made a Welcome Home patch on them!! My buddy was kind enough to help me take some pics wearing it while I was in town today.

What symbols for which characters under the hood :)

Wally: apple, eye, his lil face! Barnaby: his pawprint and his hat Julie: pink and purple flowers Frank: their tie, butterflies (plus hearts) Eddie: a multicoloured letter (plus hearts) Howdy: a caterpillar Poppy: the little wings she draws next to her signature, and a cupcake Sally: Stars!

Having more things dedicated to a specific character doesn't have any significance, it just means I had more ideas for them or they fit nicest to fill in a space haha

#welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #welcome home #innisart #embroidery #yes I am wearing rainbow socks #The fit was fire ok I was v pleased with my look today but alack could not get any pics #You can still see my stitching markers around Barnaby's paw LOL #those will come off in the wash adsfakjsdf #My bud didn't take a pic where you can properly see but Frank's tie and Eddie's letter are next to each other and surrounded by hearts #also the butterflies are purple (Eddie's fav) and yellow (Frank's fav)#idk man I just think that them.#y'know.#and Wally's face is next to Barnaby's hat #and Julie's flowers are always near Frank's symbols #because they are best friends :)

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ferigrieving · 4 months ago

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cardinal sin.

⊹ ࣪our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

a.n if you're re-reading this i switched chapter one and two around my bad fazgang

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; 3.3k ; i. envy; iii. gluttony

dawn breaks gently, casting a warm glow through the curtains, as touya lies beside you, mesmerized by your peaceful slumber. the soft light of dawn paints your features in shades of gold and rose, creating a scene of quiet beauty that he wishes he could capture forever. his heart aches with a love he cannot express, a longing that fills the space between you.

as he traces your features with his gaze, committing them to memory, he feels the weight of his desire—a yearning to keep this moment, to hold you close and never let go. in these moments, he allows himself to forget the world outside, to revel in the stillness of the room and the quiet bond between you.

and touya is convinced that here, laying across from you in the early hours of the morning, is the closest he’ll ever get to knowing what heaven is like.

he loves you. he can never say it, he can never show it, but it’s there – and there it will stay. it’s a blessing and a curse, the love he feels for you. he loves the way your face looks when you’re asleep. soft, and sweet. no trace of the anger that you show when awake, the despair and distress that plague your every waking moment.

the early morning sun filters through the curtains, bathing you in it’s soft golden glow. and he cant help but stare at your face, trying to drink in the details. touya is a greedy, greedy man, and you’re just the fix he needs.

his fingers ghost over the slope of your jaw, tracing the sharp contours of your chin, of your nose, of your cheek bones. his eyes rake over you hungrily, greedily, trying to commit every last detail of you to memory. your parted lips, the faint freckles dusting your skin, the dark circles rimming your eyes.

he cant help but look at you in awe, the faint pinks and purples of the sunrise blending together on your face — all messy hair, smeared makeup, and rumpled pyjamas. he feels his fingers twitch.

touya wants you all to himself. he wants to keep you close, to bottle this moment and keep it forever. ingrain this picture of you, asleep beside him onto the backs of his eyelids, so he can relive it as much as he wants.

and he cant help but think,

mine, mine, mine.

but you aren’t his. you never have been, and you never will be. so, he does the only thing he can do. he reaches out, and carefully brushes a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch as tender and as light as a butterfly’s wing. touya wants nothing more than to kiss you, feel the warmth of your lips against his, to taste the faint remains of chapstick from last night, memorise every ridge and bump as if he were a blind man.

you stir in your sleep, and for a moment touya worries that you’ll wake. but you don’t. instead, your hand moves in search of him, blindly reaching out into the dark.

touya’s heart is in his throat, pounding a steady rhythm against his adam’s apple as you make contact with his stomach. without thinking, your hand grabs at his hip, fingers curling into a loose grip. you murmur something indecipherable, brows scrunching up and in that moment touya wanted nothing more than to reach out and smooth it back to how it should be.

he can smell the faint scent of smoke and alcohol lingering on your skin. it’s faint, but it still pisses him off. he doesn’t like it when you go out, doesn’t like the way you come back smelling like the bar and the strangers you danced with. you’re always loud and clingy when you’re drunk, and it’s all he can do to keep you away for the night.

and when you come home, stumbling into the apartment, your eyes half-lidded and a sloppy smile on your face, his blood boils. every drunken word you pour into his ear is like a sharp knife in his heart.

”i love you.” you say, your eyes watery with drunken tears.

‘i love you too’ he says back, hours later when you’re fast asleep.

it’s a cardinal sin, a death sentence.

he knows this. he knows it better than anyone.

‘thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.’

it is abomination.

he is an abomination.

and yet, he still lets you crawl into his bed, like every other weekend like clockwork. you always cling to him, smelling of alcohol and cheap cologne. sometimes you smell like cigarettes too, the cheap ones he steals from the lawsons down the street, your hair clinging to his face as you bury yours into his chest.

he thinks of the bible — of the burning fires of hell and the eternal damnation that awaits those who fall. of the seven deadly sins and the cardinal, irreversible wrongs that they bring.

but even with the threat of death, he cannot pull away from you. it’s like a sickness, an addiction. he can no more abstain from you than he can from breathing air or drinking water.

you’re an apple, and he is no better than eve.

touya’s not so sure when he started to fall. it was gradual, slow at first. a slow burn that eventually consumed him whole. every touch, every word, every smile from you had his heart aching, his bones aching to just give into the temptation, the forbidden sin.

he can’t get enough of you. the sound of your voice, the curve of your hips, the way you laugh when he whispers in your ear. the heat of your skin against his, how your hands feel in his hair, the soft moans you make when he brings his lips to your neck —

and like all his other vices, touya cannot pull himself away.

but for a while, it’s enough. laying with you like this, listening to your soft little breaths and pretending, just for a moment, that this is all real. his eyes flutter closed as he pulls you impossibly close, wrapping you in all of him, and letting the warmth of your body sooth him like a lullaby.

time loses meaning here, in this moment. it’s just you, him, and the early morning light filtering through the window. he can hear your heart beating in tandem with his, the steady thump-thump against his chest like a reassurance.

he looks down at you, and the tightness in his chest that always comes whenever he is around you only grows worse, its hands wrapping around his neck and squeezing.

and when you stir in your sleep, your hand finding his under the covers, touya can’t help but think, with a sickening sense of irony, that the devil was once an angel too.

even now, he wants to pull the covers over your heads and stay there forever, to live in a little fantasy of his own creation. it isn’t fair, he thinks. how can something that feels so sinful feel so good?

he will have to wake soon, and so will you, and then he will have to watch you pull away from him. have to listen to you pretend it never happened, watch you go about his day like you didnt just ruin his. like he was just an afterthought, when to him, you were everything he ever thought of.

he can’t ask you to stay, because that would mean baring his heart in a way he’s not ready for. all that’s left for him is to pretend. pretend that he doesn’t care about you, that he’s unaffected by the way you laugh or the way you look at him like he’s worth something. pretend that he doesn’t want more, when the truth is, he wants everything that you are and then some.

you stretch in your sleep, mumbling under your breath, and he almost loses to the greed. in the pale morning light pouring through the curtains, you look ethereal, like something from a dream.

mine, he thinks again.

always, and forever.

“...touya?”

you murmur his name in that soft, sleep-heavy voice of yours, like a prayer.

he doesn’t realise you’ve awoken until you utter his name. touya stills, his hand frozen in your hair, and looks down at your face. your eyes are still half-lidded and bleary with sleep, and you reach a hand out, running your fingers through the dark locks of his hair.

he thinks he can almost hear the angel perched on his shoulder, whispering warnings of the divine fire that will burn his soul in damnation.

but the devil perched beside it only laughs and laughs, watching as he lets you pull yourself in closer, until you’re nestled safely against his chest, where you were always meant to be.

your fingers are warm against the bare flesh of his chest, tracing the large burns that run up and down his body like lines of scripture. he shivers under your touch, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe, your scent filling his nose and mind, intoxicating him like a fine wine.

he wants to pin you down, to hold you with all of him, and make you say his name like a prayer — whisper sweet, sinful benedictions that only the devil himself would know, and make you his for all eternity.

but he cant.

and just like that, he is reminded of the sin he is committing. for a moment, the fire in his lungs extinguishes itself, and a bitter sort of clarity washes through him.

touya can count three.

one in sleeping with you.

another in falling in love with you.

and a third, in hoping you could love him back.

it’s laughable, really. he’s a villain, with a body full of scars and a heart full of malice. his hands are stained with the blood of a thousand sins, and no amount of penance or prayer can ever wash them free of it.

and yet the biggest sin of all is right in his arms—the sin of sleeping with man.

but you’re still pressed into his skin, blissfully ignorant of the fire you spark in his chest. your mouth is against his collarbone, warm and soft, and he has to bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood to stop from making a sound.

“–what do you want to do today?”

touya almost laughs at the question.

he’s thought about this countless times, the two of you sharing a lazy day off. getting up late, ordering in for dinner. laying in bed the entire day and not having to get up until tomorrow.

he looks down at you, watching your hair spill over your shoulders like spilled ink. for a brief moment, he imagines a domestic life with you— waking up every morning to see your face, coming home from a long shift to find you waiting for him. eating dinner with you, and watching a movie only to fall asleep on the couch, tangled up in each others arms.

it’s a fantasy, nothing more. the only reason he’s lying in bed next to you right now is because you were drunk last night and too tired to make it to your own apartment. an occurrence that seems to happen every night, and every night after that.

he smiles, bittersweet. “whatever you want to do.”

you hum under your breath as you think, your hand idly tracing the lines of the scars on his chest. touya stiffens in spite of himself, heat flushing through his body like a wave.

he’s always been sensitive about them, not just because of the memories they hold, but also because they’re a reminder of what he lost— his childhood, his innocence, his sanity.

and yet, your touch is light and tender, your fingers tracing the lines with a sort of worship he’s never felt from anyone before.

it’s like you’re memorising them, mapping out the ridges and valleys of his broken skin. touya can feel his heart picking up pace, a lump forming in his throat like a rock.

you don’t treat his scars as a flaw; or something to be looked at with horror. no, the look in your eyes isn’t one of disgust or fear. it’s something else entirely, a sort of aching tenderness.

it feels like you’re hitting him in the head with a rock, again, and again, until his brain is spilled onto the floor, and his heart stops beating.

why? he wants to ask. why are you looking at him like that? why aren’t you running away and screaming like everyone else has done? why do you touch him like he’s made of glass, like he’s something fragile, something to be loved?

he swallows, and closes his eyes, hoping to keep himself together.

“lets watch a movie.”

he almost laughs again. movies. it’s such a normal thing to do on a day off, like the two of you are a normal, healthy couple, instead of a villain and his drunken roommate who happens to share a bed. and an apartment, it seems. he should ask you to move in soon. it’d do you both a favour.

“what do you feel like watching?” he hums, calloused fingers feather light against your skin.

“i want to go out and watch a movie.” you mumble, voice groggy from disuse. “a real movie, in a real theater.”

touya wanted to laugh in your face. a real movie in a real theater? god, you were just asking for it.

“and you remember everything that happened the last time we went out, right?”

“...no?

he sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. of course you dont remember. last time you went out, you’d managed to get smashed and dance in just about every club in a three block radius. touya had finally found you, making out with half a stranger in the corner of some seedy dive bar.

the memory fills him with a sort of bitter resentment. how many drunken kisses had you given the strangers of that club? how many times had you been held like that, touched and grabbed like you were something to be passed around?

he’d wanted to kill those people. he’d wanted to kill you.

“i don’t let you out like that anymore unless you’re sober.” he says, his tone harsh. “you’re a pain in the ass to deal with when you're drunk.”

“i am?” your tone confuses him. he cant tell if you were being genuine, or if his mind chose not to pick up on the lie. he doesnt want to know.

his jaw clenches. even now, you’re too clingy and too sweet. you’re always loud and always touchy, and the alcohol only makes it worse. you’re always like a clingy, drunken limpet, hanging onto his arm like you’ll die without his touch.

“yes, you are. you’re a pain in the ass.” he snaps. “you get too loud, too clingy, and it’s like dealing with a goddamn puppy.”

“oh im,” the frown on your face made him want to throw up. “–im sorry.”

he almost laughs at the apology. a sorry from you at this point is about as good as nothing. he’s seen this routine over and over again— you go out to a nightclub, get wasted, get clingy and then come home reeking of alcohol and cologne.

then, you give him a sheepish little smile, apologise, and go right back to doing the same thing the very next week.

he almost rolls his eyes at the thought. it’s like you don’t understand— if you apologise, then he should forgive you. thats how it goes. but what is forgiveness, when you never learn your lesson?

“i don’t forgive you.” he says, his voice cold. “i’m sick of your bullshit apologies. if you’re really sorry, then stop going out like you are now.”

he isn’t angry with you, per se. he’s angry with everyone else. he’s angry with the people in the club who touch you like you’re theirs, who look at you like you’re something for sale. he thinks of your body, how it’s right here, right now, pressed up against him. something that those people will never get to experience like he ever will.

and yet, it’s them who gets to feel you like this, as if you’re not already his.

touya wants to burn the entire world down. the clubs, the strangers who touch you and leave their grime and their stench on your skin, the people who even so much as look at you.

his skin feels too tight, his entire body taut with energy, like a live wire ready to snap at a moment’s notice. the feeling is all-consuming, destroying, making all his thoughts burn to cinders with a possessive, selfish fire.

it makes his chest burn, a sour, bitter anger like bile. he wants to be the only one to touch and hold you like that. he wants to listen to you sigh and shiver under his touch, to be the only one to hear the soft noises you make when he kisses you, when he runs his rough, calloused hands across the expanse of your body.

those assholes don’t deserve to be near you, even less to touch you. you’re his. you belong with him.

“thats– thats okay. if you dont forgive me.” your skin feels like on fire, and you wanted nothing more than to throw off the sheets and walk off. but you couldnt do that. not to touya, and not to yourself. “just know im still sorry.”

wrong answer.

“i don’t forgive you,” he repeats, and his voice comes out cold. “but you don’t get it, do you? you say ‘sorry’, like that somehow fixes everything, but what difference does it make if you’re just going to go out and do the same thing all over again?”

his jaw clenches. you’re too sweet, too gentle, and too damn naive. you trust people too easily, open up to them far too quickly, share your body too happily.

it makes him sick. it makes his skin burn hotter than the flames in his veins, anger and some other twisted thing coiling inside him.

"its.. its just hard, touya." you confess, biting the inside of your mouth. you didnt know how to explain to him your thought process. and to be honest, you couldnt explain it to yourself either.

he almost laughs at the answer.

“don’t tell me it’s ‘hard’,” he snaps. “you go out there and open your legs for anyone who gives you the time of day, then come home and expect me to clean up the mess. don’t give me that bullshit, ‘it’s just hard’.”

the words are harsh— harsher than he intends them to be. but he can’t bring himself to feel bad— what is he supposed to feel, besides anger and frustration? there is a bitterness in him, burning hotter than the fire in his veins, consuming him like a flame.

“do you feel loved, touya?”

do i feel loved?

he almost laughs. love. as if a villain like him would ever be lucky enough to know the taste of such an emotion. love was a thing of light, of hope, and for someone who had neither, it was a foreign idea entirely.

his family did not love him. he was not born out of love, nor did he ever feel it in the years after that. his father was abusive, and his mother was absent. his siblings don't respect him, and he never had any friends.

“why would that even matter?” he spits, his voice harsh. “that has nothing to do with you going out.”

“we both know we aren't loved, touya.” you mumbled, voice cracking as you shut your eyes. “our parents didn't love us, our siblings didn't love us, and we had no friends. your coping mechanism is killing people, but you have a problem with me sucking people off every day?”

he almost laughs. the comparison is cruel— and it’s also true. he wants to argue, wants to say it’s different, but he can’t.

so he bites his tongue and stays silent, staring at the ceiling instead.

“its not love. i know that. but for a moments, it feels like it. when im in bed with someone, im needed, for even just a moment. even if im just a hole to them, at least im something.”

it’s like someone’s punched him, driving the air from his lungs. it’s too much, hearing you talk like that— like you’re something to be passed around and used, something to be tossed away when you’re no longer needed.

“and what?” his voice comes out strangled. “i’m not enough, when you’re with me?”

“you are. you’re more than enough. and thats exactly the problem.”

he almost laughs at that. more than enough— a phrase he’s never heard before, a thought he’s never even dared to think.

he closes his eyes. suddenly, he feels so stupid that it hurts.

no one’s ever needed him before, not like that. no one’s ever even wanted him, much less needed. he’s never been a first choice, or someone to lean on, or to care about. no one has ever even thought about holding him.

“so i’m enough,” he says, voice wavering “but you still want something more.”

it’s a bitter realization, a harsh truth that hits like a fist. more than enough— and yet still not enough. not enough to keep you from wanting to go out and get touched and held by strangers.

he swallows, the lump in his throat feeling like something he can’t swallow.

“so what do you want, then?” o lord, hear our prayer. “what the hell do you want?”

“you, my love.” listen to my cry for mercy. “i want you.”

touya would go to church this sunday.

he’d probably make a poor churchgoer, a man used to sin and violence and death, with more blood on his hands than he can count. but still, he’d try. he’d sit in the pew and pray for you, pray that god would forgive him for what he has done, and what he will continue to do.

he doesn’t deserve you, and he knows it. he’s never been a religious man, but if there is a god, he’s going to beg on his hands and knees, plead on his knees for a chance.

just a chance to make you his.

he can picture it perfectly— the rows and rows of pews, the arched ceiling, the high windows stained with colorful glass. the crucifix at the front of the church, and the priest droning out the rites in a solemn, monotone voice.

touya would sit there and listen to the sermon, and he would pray to a god he doesn’t even believe in just for the slim chance that it would work. because all he wants is you, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

he pictures himself kneeling in prayer, his palms pressed together like a sinner begging for forgiveness. he sees himself making the sign of the cross, fingers reaching up to touch his forehead, his chest and his shoulders.

it’s a desperate prayer, a futile prayer. but he’d pray to a god he doesn’t even know if he believes in, offering up whatever he can— whatever he has— just for the chance to win you over.

“you want… me?”

“you’re so fucking stupid, touya.”

your lips were soft. softer than he had ever imagined. they were sweet, and if he really concentrated, he could taste your strawberry chapstick.

he’s too stunned to react at first, frozen in place by the shock of your kiss.

and then his brain catches up, and then and only then, does he finally kiss you back, kissing you with a bruising force, as if he’s trying to pour every emotion into you.

he knows he’s an idiot. a complete and utter fool, to have not seen how much you wanted him. and yet, here you are. wanting him. needing him. loving him.

touyas never felt like this before, so overwhelmed with desire and want. no other touch has ever felt the way yours does. when you press against him like this, your body so small and pliant and willing, it makes him feel like he’s burning up from the inside.

he kisses you again, and again, and again.

he wants nothing more than to worship you like a saint. he wants to fall to his knees and beg for you like a man possessed, desperate for the feel of your skin and the taste of your mouth, for the touch of your hands and the sound of your voice saying his name.

there’s something sacrilegious in the way he wants you, he’ll fucking pray to you on his hands and knees if you only asked him, for just a hint of you. a single word, a touch, anything. he’ll go down on his knees, begging and pleading, if it means he’ll get to hear you say his name.

he’s a sinner, through and through, but you make him want a touch of divinity. there is something wrong in the way he craves you, in the way he wants you, something dirty and unholy and wrong, but he’s too far gone to care.

once upon a time, touya didn’t know god.

he didn’t believe in a higher power, didn’t believe in anything beyond the physical world. there was no room for something as soft and ephemeral as faith in his heart.

but now he knows. he knows what it’s like to believe in something bigger than oneself, to believe in things he can’t see or touch or feel. he’s found a god in you. you are his higher power, his reason for living, the one thing he’ll worship above all else.

he’ll pray at your altar until his knees bruise, beg and plead and worship until he’s hoarse. he’ll kneel at your feet and praise you, a thousand praises and compliments and prayers, as many as you’ll allow.

he knows your touch is a miracle, an act of god, because no one else has ever made him feel this alive.

#⊹ ࣪ ˖ greywrites #⊹ ࣪ ˖ cardinal sin #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #dabi #dabi x reader #dabi todoroki #todoroki touya x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki x reader

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 4.8k

chapter summary: Due to a power outage in your home, you have to stay with Joel and Sarah for a couple days until it gets fixed.

warnings: female masturbation, accidental eavesdropping, pillow humping/fucking (joel)

Chapter Five || Chapter Seven

You only see butterflies.

You see them fluttering at the window, in your kitchen, in your bedroom. You see them sitting on top the mirror in the bathroom, you see them in the cupboards. They’re everywhere. They consume you. In every shape and color, you see them. You see stars on top of their wings, circles, hearts. Some are white, some are pink. But most of them are blue.

They remind you of him. Of Joel. And you draw—you paint.

You sketch wings on paper. Paint colors that become them. It’s him. It’s Sarah. It’s Tommy. It’s Olivia. Your brother. Your grandfather. It’s everyone that lingers in your heart, in your mind. You see them in the shapes that you draw. All of them distinctly different.

Joel is a dark red, a dark purple with splattered white. The wings are sharper, longer, the largest butterflies. The ends of his wings have long extensions like antennas. It is beautiful, ethereal, strong.

Tommy’s butterflies are similar to Joel’s, only softer around the ages and smaller. Blue, golden, a light shade of red. His wings glimmer under both sunlight and moonlight. Sarah’s are the smallest, pink and blue with a lighter shade of purple. Her design is the most elegant, her wings curl at the end, more fairy-like.

Olivia’s are green, her wings long and slender. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t drawn inspiration from Tinker Bell—green, yellow with light blue specs.

It’s the early hours of the morning, soft sunlight only just starting to spill from the windows. Despite your sweatshirt and the blanket you had haphazardly thrown over your shoulders, the early chill settles in your bones. You narrow your eyes, tilting the sketchbook, you hold it towards the overhead light. It’s hard to see and your eyes sting when you blink. But you don’t stop, you can’t stop. They’re everywhere and you need to draw them, you need to put them on paper before they disappear. It’s been months since you’ve painted anything. Now that the colors were splashing over white you don’t want to stop. It’s a breath of fresh air.

Finally, you’re breathing again after being submerged for so long.

The realization that you had feelings for Joel, and Tommy for you, make this unrestrained desire to create even stronger. You’re breathing because of Joel—because he had told you to draw butterflies. You want to show him what you’ve made, you want to show Tommy as well. It should make you afraid. The things that you feel. He has someone after all, no matter how serious their relationship might or might not be, however, isn’t this the perfect motivator for any kind of artist? You feel pain. A different kind of pain that you can actually use instead of the grief that aches in your bones.

Pain is one of the fundamentals of art. The beauty of art comes from within, and so does pain, it’s the process of creating it not the end product. It’s the journey. Some of your favorite artworks are derived from pain; Dorotea Tanning’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, Dali’s Elephants, and The Broken Column by Frida Kahlo.

Despite being transfixed by Dali’s work (his work with butterflies has been a strong inspiration in what you make), you feel most drawn to Tanning’s style of showcasing pain. You always saw yourself as the girl within the Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, walking down the blood-colored carpet, a giant sunflower in front of her, tattered and ruined. You were always curious about the cracked open door ahead, wondered what might be laying within the only room with an open door.

Your thoughts seep through the pencil, become shapes and lines on paper. You admire the texture of the clean sheets, the lead against it music to your ears. You draw and draw, some making less sense than others. Page after page your butterflies become something else, they become more gruesome with split heads and sharp, glass-like wings. You swallow. The sweat clinging to your skin is cold, your fingers numb.

And just like that you’re buried in muted darkness.

“Shit.” you hiss, looking up accusingly to the light. “What the fuck?”

You get up and head to the window, your fingers curling around the edge of the curtains. It’s early but it seems like some of your neighbors are already awake—and has light.

“Fuck,” you say again.

The sun warms your back. You’re staring at the blank screen of the TV. You hear the faint murmurs coming from the Miller’s kitchen, Joel paces back and forth, his socked feet silent. Anxiety clawing at your chest, you shove your hands between your thighs and keep them there. Joel appears. You look up at him as he leans down, placing the phone on the coffee table.

“So it looks like the power outage is gonna take them a couple of days to fix, maybe even a week,” your heart sinks at his words. He notices and a soft smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t look so worried. You can stay here, we have a spare room. I’ll check on them to see they're doing everythin’ right.”

“Oh,” you say, a hint of worry etched into your voice. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you with all that. I was just thinking of just calling up my brother, or I can stay at Olivia’s.”

He waves you off in dismissal. “You ain’t troubling anyone. Besides, it’ll be easier to just bring what you need here. Or if you forget somethin’ you can just go and get it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, darlin’,” he answers, voice dropping a beat. “Stay.”

A shudder settles at the base of your spine. You nod. You feel a thick knock in your throat as you swallow. You can still see the lines of sleep mapping across his cheeks, his bed hair a sight to behold. Looking down at the coffee table, you try not to think about how good he looks with his gray sweatpants hugging his thighs—you especially try not to think about the night you drew shapes across his hand and forearm with nothing but your fingers.

You dream of painting him. Putting him on a blank canvas and hanging it on your wall. He’s a beautiful man. Strong body, a pronounced nose, warm eyes.

Sarah's sudden jump off the last step startles you and interrupts your thoughts. When she sees your expression, she looks puzzled herself.

“Mornin’,” she greets you, ready for school. “Did something happen?”

“Power outage,” Joel answers on your behalf, Sarah turns to him. “She’s goin’ to be stayin’ with us for a while.”

Your heart melts at how wide Sarah smiles, you can see the glimmer in her eyes. “That’s great!” she sits next to you. “Well, not great great, but we can have a sleepover! It’ll be fun, you can teach me how to draw.”

“Sarah…” Joel warns.

You cut him off before he can say anything else.

“That sounds great,” you smile. “I actually have a couple of drawings I’ve been meaning to show you guys.”

“Really?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, really.” you answer, grinning at his surprise. You pull out the sketchbook from your bag and place it on your lap. Heat grows between your legs as Joel sits next to you, the meat of his thigh pressed snug against your own.

Both Miller’s lean in closer, staring at your drawings—themselves, in a way. You don’t think they’ll notice, especially not Joel, but you realize that maybe Sarah does. Her fingers delicately move over the drawing that you did thinking of her.

Sarah grabs your arm and diverts your attention back to her, “Butterflies.” she murmurs.

“How do you like your coffee?”

“With milk,” you answer. “A lot of it, preferably.”

“So milk with a dash of coffee,” he grins, amused. “Got it.”

It’s been a couple of days since you moved in with Joel and Sarah. It was much easier to live with the father-daughter due than you initially had thought. Tommy came over in the mornings, dropping you off to work and Sarah to school, and the brothers went to do their own thing after that.

With Joel’s back turned to you, you look down at your sketchbook and add another line to what is supposed to be his unruly hair. He really needs a haircut.

Surprisingly living with him isn’t weird at all. He made you feel welcome. No awkward glances, no awkward touching. Just neighbors helping each other out. He places the steaming mug next to you and leans on his elbows. He looks at what you’re drawing and raises an eyebrow.

Joel brings the mug to his lips.

“You’re paintin’ me?”

“I’m sketching you,” you answer. “You’re a lovely specimen.”

“Is that so.”

The scent of coffee fills your lungs. Lifting your gaze, you observe his facial structures. You see the imperfections, take in the sight of his eyes, his bushy eyebrows, and the bald patches in his beard. You want to touch the small beauty park right in the corner of his eye that’s impossible to see unless you’re an inch further away.

If he knew how you saw him—if he knew how big he was in your mind— Joel would be terrified.

“Do you like art?” you ask, taking him by surprise. He takes a sip of his coffee and your gaze drops back to your sketch.

He hums, fingers thrumming the kitchen counter. “I like your art.”

“I should take you guys to an art gallery or something,” you say, smiling. “If you like mine, you’re going to go nuts over the things that are out there.”

Joel pouts and you roll your eyes. “What are you looking at me like that for?” you ask.

“I like your drawings. They’re—They feel close. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

It’s because it’s you who I think of when I create them.

“Do you know Salvador Dali?” you ask, then quickly add. “Or Dorothea Tanning?”

“Sweetheart, the only artist I know is Da Vinci and I’m not even a hundred percent sure he is one.”

“He is,” you affirm him excitedly, looking back up. “I love surrealism. It’s when everything gets really weird basically. So—wait let me show you. I think I have a couple of pictures between the pages.”

You miss the way Joel’s lips slowly curl up, adoration and fondness adorning his face, softening the edges. He comes closer. Your pulse quickens as your fingers rush to find the images, and when they do you basically rip them out from between the pages

“Look.”

All of them are images from Dali’s artwork. Mainly butterflies. Joel observes them carefully, touching them as if fearing he might stain them. You urge him to take a closer look by placing one between his thick fingers. It’s The Butterfly Rose.

“Never thought you would do homework for a hobby.”

“It’s not—” You let out an exasperated sigh, cutting yourself off mid-sentence. “Do you think I want to work at the coffee house forever? It’s not just a hobby. And of course, as an artist, I look at other art to be inspired. They make me feel things.” Seeing the startled expression on his face, you add, “Don’t you get like…shivers or something when you see a very nice wooden table?”

Oh, you made him uncomfortable. You sense that in an instant. His fingers trace the image of the painting, looking down, you notice the crease between his brows deepening with concentration. Was he concentrating on the image? In your words? You have no idea—the only thing you know is that this man concentrating on art is making your insides clench with a need.

“Sorry,” he grumbles. “I didn’t mean it like that. I do think you’re a serious artist. It’s just…fuck that came out wrong. I just didn’t think you would put in this much effort to somethin’ I said,” he shakes his head. “Shit, I’m bad at this.”

That undeniable need to touch him comes rushing back. You bite the inside of your bottom lip instead. “ I think I might’ve overreacted after hearing the same thing from my brother all the time. It’s all good. You might be the only one that takes me seriously so it was unfair for me to jump to conclusions like that.”

“He don’t support you?”

“He does…” you trail off. “In his own way, I guess.”

“That doesn’t sound like support,” he answers, clicking his tongue. “And just FYI I like your butterflies better, sweet tea.”

“Sweet tea?” you ask, lips curling with amusement and eyes widening with shock.

He shrugs. “You said you liked Dorothea…somethin’---”

“Tanning.” you quickly say. “So Sweet Tea as in…the last syllable of her name?”

“Would you rather I call you Tea?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope!” you grin, your heart elevated. “Sweet Tea is perfect.”

With a soft smile, Joel places the picture in front of you and gently taps on it.

“Well then, Sweet Tea,” he says. “Tell me more about this surrealism thing.”

You and Tommy are waiting by the truck for Joel and Sarah to buy snacks from 7-Eleven. You remember the funny looks the Millers gave you when you suggested buying snacks at the cinema instead. Joel had just shaken his head and steered you towards the truck, his hand on your waist. The touch burned you.

Then he proceeded to explain the thrill of sneaking something through the cinema doors, and how they deserved it due to their overpriced snacks. The latter you couldn’t really object against. However, you had no idea that the Millers were such kleptomaniacs.

Tommy had a cigarette between his lips, he pulls it out and exhales a puff of smoke. You watch it mixing into the dark blue night.

“How’s it like staying with my brother and niece?” he asks. “Hopefully Joel ain’t given’ you too much trouble.”

“Oh. Not at all,” you smile, waving your hand. “He’s been nothing but kind. You have nothing to worry about.”

Tommy nods, and he flicks the cigarette to the pavement, stepping on it, he comes closer. “Good good.” you feel his heat, his breath. You shudder. “I miss spendin’ time with you…I mean without anyone else.”

His voice is a low hum in your ear. You had missed hanging out with him too, but now it's clear that your feelings don't quite match his. Your gaze drifts to the windows of the 7-Eleven, where Joel and Sarah are at the register, scanning the items and chatting. A burst of laughter from Joel warms your heart.

Tommy touches your chin, pulling your gaze back to him. Your pulse quickens under his touch. You swallow.

“You’ve been distant lately,” he states. “Did I do somethin’?”

“What?” you gasp, then furiously shake your head. “No. No, of course, you didn’t. I’m…It’s just been hectic with trying to get the power back and the drawings—It doesn’t mean anything, I promise.”

“If you say so, sweetheart.” he smiles and you fight the urge to let out a breath of relief. “Don’t think about it so much. Joel said the electricity will be back in no time, he might’ve…” he clears his throat. “He might’ve threatened them a bit but it was all light-hearted.”

You snort. “How can a threat be light-hearted?”

“You know,” he grins. “When you place a hand on a guy’s shoulder and just squeeze it a bit while smilin’. It’s unnervin’ really. He does that a lot, gives me the creeps sometimes. But then again, a man gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” you gently kick the pavement with the tip of your shoe. “But no threats necessary. I’m sure they’re going as fast as they can.”

“We got the goods!”

Sarah comes running, a wide smile stretched across her face as she hugs her jacket tight around her. Joel follows, a lopsided smile on his lips.

When Sarah reaches you and Tommy, she looks around then back to you, she opens the front of her jacket. “See,” she smirks, showing you the various snacks hidden underneath the thick layer.

Tommy whistles. “That’s quite a haul, baby girl. How long is this movie? Five hours?”

“I wish,” Sarah snorts. “I’ve been waiting for this a loooong time uncle Tommy. Let me enjoy it.”

Joel appears next to you, his own jacket also looking a bit tighter. You look up, smiling, and he parts his jacket, showing you, as Sarah had dubbed, “the goods”.

“I just want to say for the record,” you exclaim, opening the back door. “If you two get sick I’m not cleaning up after you.”

“You break my heart, Sweet Tea.” Joel answers, hand on his chest as if he’s been shot. “And here I thought you had my back.”

“I do but not for self-inflicted stomach aches.”

Sarah slides in after you and Joel takes his place at the passenger seat. Tommy looks at you through the review mirror as he buckles his belt.

“Sweet Tea?” he asks.

“Long story,” you answer, “I’ll tell you later.”

The cinema. A place where every art form, visual or otherwise, shakes hands and comes together to create the most amazing of worlds.

Ever since you were a kid you had this connection to the atmosphere. The scent of popcorn, the dim lights, the other movie enthusiasts excited to witness the magic of it all. You don’t know what it is that draws you to it. From memory, you remember instances where it would only be you and your brother at the movies, the two of you practically owning the dark room for about two hours. It was fun, it was almost magical. Just you and him. That’s it. It was a small town so it wasn’t a hard thing to come by.

Now it’s the opposite. The screening room is filled to the brim, not one seat empty. Joel is on your left side and Sarah on your right, next to her sits Tommy. You notice she keeps patting her jacket. A small smile tugs at your lips, it almost looks like she’s afraid that the snacks would disappear.

Despite the past and the present being drastically different, the feeling is the same. It’s a similar feeling to returning home after a long time. You’re excited, giddy almost. And it’s not because of the movie you’re about to watch—Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, one of Sarah’s favorite franchises— it’s from the memories of it.

The lights turn off completely, the commercials start to play.

Joel leans in, his shoulder brushing against yours. His lips touch your ear and your stomach tightens. You’re happy he can’t see your face. It would’ve been a dead giveaway if he did.

“Pass these to Tommy,” he whispers, handing you a box of milk duds. You do as you’re told, Joel then pulls out a pack of Reese’s Pieces. “I do prefer the cups,” he mutters into your ear, you’re not listening, you just focus on the warmth of his breath and the way he turns your hand over. “But these will do for now.”

You feel the small bite-sized peanut butter and chocolatey goodness falling into your sweaty palm. Throwing back your head, you plop them all into your mouth. You feel his gaze but purposefully keep your eyes glued to the screen. He’s too close. His presence bearing onto you like a heavy blanket.

The movie finally starts and you do everything to keep your non-existent attention span on the large screen.

An hour in, goosebumps begin to rise over your skin. It’s cold. The chill is something you always forget about the cinema. You didn’t really have a need to bring your jacket with you when you went out, the night air being warm. But of course, you’d forgotten that you always got chilly in the cinema, no matter how hot it was outside.

Joel must’ve felt your shivering because soon enough you feel his fingers curling around your wrist. He shuffles closer.

“Are you cold?” he murmurs and you nod. His fingers don’t desert you as he moves over Sarah to grab his jacket. He throws it over you, warmth immediately coiling around your body. “Better?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you say. “Thanks.”

You’re hyper-aware that his hand remains on your wrist, some portion of his jacket covering your tangled limbs. His fingers tighten, thumb smoothing over your heated skin. Your skin prickles under his touch and soon he starts to skim your forearm up and down with the tips of his fingers. You cheat a glance at him but his sole focus is on the screen. His lips are pressed tight, brows pinched together. When a specifically bright scene appears on screen, you can see the vein meandering down his neck.

You want to stare at him forever but you know you can’t. Your eyes flitting back to the screen, you ignore the way his fingers continue to move. His touch is much rougher compared to your own. More textured. His blunt nails scrape against your skin, the pads of his fingers travel to your knuckles then move back up again.

It almost feels like he’s returning the gesture from before. The thought strikes fear. Is this his way of telling you that he knows? That he’d sensed your emotions through your fingertips and telling you; I see you.

You want to snatch your hand away and your fingers twitch with the need for it. You haven’t heard Asha’s name for a while— But it’s not like Joel talked much about his personal life, and when your alone times with Tommy became limited you heard very little from the ongoing relationship.

In the end, you don’t pull your hand back and he doesn’t stop touching you. The darkness hides the want, the need, the attraction. Because that is what this is right? Attraction. You’re not alone in your feelings. You can’t be. This was a silent message. A plea for you to say, I see you, back.

And you do see him. You always have.

The feeling of his fingers long lingers even after the intermission has come and passed. It stays with you as you exit the movies, as you listen to Sarah excitedly talk about her favorite parts, as Tommy bids you three farewell and drives on home.

It lingers still.

You don’t know what time it is. The only thing you do know is that it’s late. Very late. But no matter how much you toss and turn you can’t sleep. Your mind is wide awake with thoughts of Joel and nothing else. Him and his fingers, his lips, his neck.

It shouldn’t surprise you that you end up sneaking a hand under your shirt, feeling yourself and imagining it was him instead.

The sensation of your fingertips brushing over your sensitive skin is electrifying. You close your eyes and imagine it's Joel's hands exploring your body, his fingers tracing circles around your nipples and teasing them until they become tight and hard. His lips trailing down your neck, leaving a burning trail behind.

You bite back your moans as your hand moves further down, slipping between your thighs. Your fingers tease and stroke, exploring every inch of your wetness. You press down harder, your body aching and begging for more, as you think of Joel's hands exploring you. His fingers slipping in and out of your folds, tantalizing and teasing you until you can't take it anymore.

“Joel,” you whisper into the darkness, a prayer. “Joel, please.”

Your breathing becomes shallow as your orgasm builds, and you moan out his name as you let go. The sensation washes over you, and you can almost feel Joel's hands on your body, his lips on your skin. When you pull out your fingers, you feel like a ragdoll, your limbs buzzing with your fading orgasm. You let out a breath.

The phone rings.

Your eyes narrow when you see Tommy’s name flashing on the small screen. Confusion and worry clouding your post-coitus haze, you pick up the phone.

“Tommy,” you answer. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” he lets out a breath, his voice sounds frenzied. “I…I saw a—” whatever he was about to say he must’ve decided against saying it because the rest never comes. “I want to ask you somethin’”.

“You can ask me anything.”

You say it but in hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have. Your heart is restless, your stomach clenching and unclenching in the span of seconds. You hear him breathing heavily from the other line.

“Would you like to go out with me?” he asks in one exhale. “Like…on a date.”

Joel doesn’t want the day to start. It’s unbearably warm, and unknowing to him, he had cast his shirt to the floor sometime during the late night. The morning chill settles over his back. His eyes are closed, his cock hard. He presses temptingly into the pillow between his legs. He has no idea how it ended up there, but he’s grateful for the added pressure. Joel doesn’t think he could ever forget what happened last night.

The way he touched your burning skin under his jacket, the way you kept stealing glances from him—it was all still too vivid in his head. But then…then you went to bed, and so did he.

When he woke up in the middle of the night to get water, he didn’t expect to hear his name coming from your room. He waited and listened, you whispered it again. It was such a faint sound that if it wasn’t the dead of night there was no way he could’ve heard it. His cheeks heat up at the memory. He just stayed there, like a deer in headlights, and fucking listened to you get off with his name tenderly falling from your lips.

Joel had turned and rushed back to his room, his parched mouth now filled with saliva, water forgotten.

And now, with those thoughts swirling in his head, he grinds himself into the soft pillow. A low groan echoes from the back of his throat. He squeezes his eyes tighter. What were you thinking about? Was it images of him tasting your cunt? Him fucking his cock deep into your sopping heat? Which one was it? What was it that forced those sounds out of your lips?

Frustrated by the lack of friction, his eyes snap open with something resembling anger. Joel kicks off his sweatpants, brings the pillow underneath him, and squeezes the ends together, forming a crease. He shoves his aching cock between them, wishing it was you instead.

He leans back, letting the warmth of the pillow engulf him, and takes a deep breath. His body is trembling as he moves his hips slowly. He lets out a low moan as his hips grind against the pillow, the sensation of it rubbing against his hard cock setting off sparks of pleasure throughout his body. The morning sun pours from between the curtains, kissing his skin. His hands grip the pillow tight as he moves his body faster and faster, letting out a series of moans and gasps.

He imagines it's your body he's thrusting against, your soft curves, your tight embrace. His breathing becomes laboured, his balls draw tight, his stomach clenches. He sees a dark patch growing across the fabric. Joel collapses, his face pressing into the sheets as he rocks his hip forward like a dog in heat. His skin feels raw and over-sensitive. Every time the fabric rubs against his skin, he hisses.

With one final thrust, he lets out a long, drawn-out moan as he comes hard, his mind filled with thoughts of you.

He falls onto the pillow, panting heavily. The aftershocks of his orgasm ripple through his body. His cock is still pulsing with pleasure as it slowly softens. His hands run over the pillow, feeling the warmth and wetness left behind from his release. He can still feel the tightness of his orgasm, the pressure inside him slowly fading away. He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting out a satisfied sigh. Joel wants to feel you against him, to cage you in between him and the bed.

His cock twitches.

Joel turns onto his side, his body feeling heavy. The guilt gnaws at his insides. What the hell is wrong with him? First, he touches you during the movies like a man possessed, then he listens to you through the door, and now he’s fucking his pillow with thoughts of you. He groans and flips over to his back. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, another groan leaving him.

He has a fucking girlfriend, and no matter how lax the relationship was, he couldn’t continue on doing this. He needs to break up with Asha, then he needs to talk to you, get things sorted.

When he allows his arms to fall to his sides, Joel entertains the thought that maybe—just maybe—everything might work out.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x f!reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #your friendly neighborhood queue #scheduled post

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v3nusplanetofluv · 2 years ago

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a midsummer night’s dream ꨄ

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sakusa x fem!reader warnings: none !

“i why rebuke you him that loves you so?” sakusa and y/n being cute co-parents at their daughter’s ballet recital. will they kiss?

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your daughter had been asking where her dad was for the past ten minutes and for good reason. her ballet recital was getting ready to start and her dad who was always there for every performance wasn’t, making her nervous.

as you checked your phone again, you sighed anxiously and began to hit his contact to call when a tall man with curly black hair came jogging backstage.

“hey, i was just about to call you,” you let out a breath you had been holding as sakusa came up to you with a tired greeting.

“i know, i’m sorry. there was so much traffic,” he said with a light laugh as he adjusted his suit. “you look nice,” he said with a small smile as he looked you over. you wore a familiar mauve dress that made you look whimsical, effectively matching the theme of the performance, a midsummer night's dream.

“thanks,” he smiled as you felt your heart skip a beat, “you look good too.”

“daddy!” your daughter’s smile grew instantly, almost covering the entirety of her face as she rushed past the people crowding backstage over to her dad.

sakusa picked her up in a tender hug as he spun her around before smiling at her in his arms. “you look so beautiful, like a princess,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“daddy, i’m a butterfly,” she deadpanned making the both of you laugh.

“then you are the prettiest butterfly i have ever seen,” he smiled as he began to press kisses all over her face, eliciting bubbly giggles from the girl.

you let small laughs escape your lips as you continued to take pictures of the two until you noticed something that made your heart drop. “naomi, where are your shoes baby?”

the four year old’s eyes dropped to her feet, “these ones were in my bag, maybe i left them at daddy’s house?”

you turned to sakusa who was already looking over at you with an exhausted expression as he knew he would have to go get those purple ballet shoes. he internally cursed himself as he walked right past them, paying no mind, on his way out the door less than an hour ago.

"kiyoomi..."

"i'm going right now."

the outside hitter promptly put down your daughter as he quickly made his way back out of the theatre. while walking into the lobby, he passed by some of his teammates—naomi's honorary uncles.

the faux blond whipped his head backward as he noticed his friend leaving a place that he shouldn't be, "omi! where ya goin’?" he asked, wrinkling his freshly pressed suit as he threw up his arms in confusion.

"shoes!"

ꨄ

you anxiously waited. whenever your phone would turn black you quickly unlocked it revealing your ex's contact, waiting for any updates as to where he was. on the other hand, naomi sat patiently as she fidgeted with the purple tutu that matched her faux wings that sat upon her back.

"what is taking him so long," you muttered as you paced up and down the hallway, nervously pulling at the ends of your eyebrow. however, the familiar sound of jogging and panting halted your actions as sakusa came down the hallway, ballet shoes and a flower bouquet in hand. he promptly handed you the shoes and hid the flowers away from his daughter's eyes.

you gave him a small smile as your took the shoes and began to quickly put them on naomi. as soon as the last lace was wrapped around her ankle you quickly sent her off to meet her teacher with a kiss and a wish of good luck.

"i'm sorry, that took longer than I expected," sakusa said as he fluffed out the flowers of the slightly smushed bouquet that he had in hand. "i almost forgot her flowers," he said as he smiled down at the assortment of pink lilies.

"she's going to lose her mind when she sees those flowers," you smiled up at him as you both began to walk to your seats in the audience, "she'll love them."

"i know," he smiled over at you as he held open the door, "she's a mini you," sakusa hesitated with his words before he went on to speak again.

"i used to bring you flowers for every single one of your ballet recitals in high school."

your face began to warm up at the thought of the fond memories. it was true, without fail sakusa kiyoomi always brought you flowers as a congratulations gift. they ranged from roses to carnations and never failed to bring a smile to your face and always resulted in him getting his face painted in bright lipstick marks.

"i remember," you smiled as you walked down the aisle in front of him, i used to spray them with hairspray and stuff to make sure that they would last forever, and it still works to this day."

you didn't realize what you had said...

but he did. he sat beside you as he felt his face heat up, ears turning red at the thought of the implication behind your words. his heart began to pound in his chest causing butterflies to swarm in his stomach. his dark eyes drifted over to you, ignoring his teammates beside him.

"you still have the flowers i gave you?"

your breathing stopped, as you looked over at sakusa whose eyes were darting all over your face, searching for anything.

"yeah," you said timidly as your eyes drifted to the program in your lap, "they're sitting at my vanity back at my place."

your admission felt as if you had just told one of your deepest, darkest secrets. normal people erase all traces of their exes as fast as they can, desperate to rid themselves of the memories. but here you are, holding onto years old flowers, some older than your shared daughter.

while you were dealing with an internal, emotional dilemma, sakusa beside you couldn't help but smile. smile at the fact that you kept those flowers for all this time; smile at the fact that there might still be something there. hope flushed through his chest as his face blushed at your flustered state.

but as the lights shone down onto the stage, both of your attention was put back onto your star of the show. smiles grew upon your faces as your daughter posed with her butterfly wings spread along with her other classmates dawning enchanting insect attire.

right before the music began to play, sakusa leaned over to whisper in your ear, unwilling to leave his questions unanswered, tossed away never to be spoken about again. "can i come over to your place tonight?"

you looked over at him with slightly widened eyes as your chest became tight and your heart began to race. you managed a small smile as you looked over at him with an embarrassingly love-struck gaze that remind you of your teenage self.

"sure...i'd like that."

i rlly appreciate reblogs and likes ! thx u for reading ♥︎

#hq fluff #hq fanfic #hq imagines #hq x reader #hq x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #hq hcs #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #sakusa drabble #sakusa scenarios #sakusa imagines

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prismarts · 8 months ago

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I REDESIGNED THE MANE SIX PONIES!!!

I had so much fun doing these and I really wanna ramble so if you wanna hear about my thought process, click below!

✨️Twilight Sparkle✨️

Twilight was the simplest and arguably the closest to her canon design with a few differences, she is tad taller as an alicorn, while she was a medium height as a unicorn before this

I REALLY wanted to change her colour palette into one of an actual twilight sky and skew darker in terms of colours for that almost dark academia feel.

I added some silver glasses and a collar and some sort of tie for that fantasy almost witch apprentice look as almost a nod to Twilight being Celestia's apprentice.

Her mane is up in a bun to keep it tidy while she studies and her tail is kept short so she doesn't get caught in anything as she runs around looking for books.

I thought it'd be cute for her to have sparkle like freckles to match the sparkles on her wings.

Finally, her cutie mark is all around the same but with more of the twilight colours instead.

🧁Pinkie Pie🧁

Pinkie Pie is now EXTRA fluffy to just fit her extra bubbly personality while also being the second shortest pony.

I decided to give Pinkie heterochromia, I just feel like it suits her really really well! Alongside the lighter rounded patches of fur and darkening the rest of her pink coat.

She got hoof-icures of sprinkles on her light pink hooves!

Her mane and tail are extra fluffy and shorter, making it look a lot more puffed up like the canon mane and tail she has as a filly in canon! She has sprinkles all over her mane and tail and a bow on her tail.

Finally, her cutie mark now has different coloured and shaped balloons as well as a cupcake and party hat, the cupcake referencing her baking talents as well as her party talents!

🦋Fluttershy🦋

Fluttershy has a few changes to her design, she is the third tallest pony of the group.

I gave Fluttershy, dark forest green eyes to contrast with all the pastels in her design.

She has significantly longer mane and tail with a gradient from pastel pink to a pastel leaf green.

I really wanted Fluttershy to have smaller wings, like Scootaloo in canon, she has this disability now and is unable to really fly. I wanted to explore just how much animals and the nature impacted her as a filly by making her a lot more connected to it. An example being the leaves and flowers in Fluttershy's mane and tail is from her climbing trees to help critters, something she LEARNED from her critter friends.

Her smaller wings have a small feather pattern that resembles a butterfly's wings in the inner of her wings and the fluff on her hooves also resemble leaves and butterfly wings.

💎Rarity💎

Rarity has a few changes, mainly to her mane and tail, she is also the fourth tallest among the group.

Rarity has piercing dark blue eyes, I made her eyes a more striking colour than in her canon design.

Her mane and tail now have small curls and waves, decorated with pearls and up in a half bun. With a gradient colours of dark purple to a pastel indigo. I really wanted to give her a very fashionable mane and tail style without it just being a single giant curl.

Rarity's hooves have a gradient into an ice blue.

I gave Rarity so many accessories and jewelry, I really wanted to dress her up in diamonds and pearls and gold.

Rarity's cutie mark is now a big single diamond with a dark purple thread spool and needle. The diamond representing her backstory where she found all those gems and got her cutie mark after using them in her design and the heart shape the dark purple thread makes, represents her big and generous heart.

🍎Applejack🍎

Applejack's coat is now a darker brown with patches of light brown and the orange from her canon design. She is also the second tallest of the group.

Her eyes are now a brighter leafy green.

Her mane and tail are now significantly shorter, in a more orangey tone of blonde as her tail is tied in a braid to help keep it neat and tidy during her farm work.

I added a red ribbon to her hat, which is now a darker shade of brown as well as gave her a handkerchief tied around her neck that has red and green plaid.

Applejack has a slightly bulkier body from all the apple bucking she's done around the farm.

Her cutie mark is now a heart shaped picnic mat with her three apples that are now three different colours to represent Apple Bloom, Big Mac and Granny Smith.

⚡️Rainbow Dash⚡️

Rainbow Dash is the shortest of the group, but of course is absolutely the fastest.

She now has a darker greyish blue coat with a lighter grey blue patches as well as light blue lightning and cloud patches all over.

Her wings are now bigger, this being something that has hindered her flying as a filly and made it hard for her to control her flying and crashing into things as a filly, being given the nickname 'Rainbow Crash'. But now her bigger wings help her fly faster than ever before, even helping her do the impossible Sonic Rainboom.

Her hooves are now a gradient from light blue to white to represent clouds.

She now wears goggles around her neck all of the time.

Her mane and tail are significantly shorter and in a cool swoopy sharp style, the rainbow in her mane and tail are a lot brighter now to make her stand out a lot more.

Her eyes are now a stormy grey to show off her aggressive nature while also being a perfect contrast to the rainbows in her designs.

Her cutie mark is now a giant rainbow lightning bolt in the middle of a ring of clouds and smaller rainbow coloured lightning bolts. This is to represent her ability to create a Sonic Rainboom.

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savanaclaw1996 · 2 years ago

Text

Until The End of Eternity-Leona Kingscholar x Fem! Reader

Summary: Leona has proposed to (Y/n) and they are taking their first step into holy matrimony as husband and wife.

My submission for twistedchatterboxed's April collab: Day 29. Rings.

Word Count: 1,444 words.

Enjoy!

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Leona stood stoically at the alter as everyone from Night Raven College, including the royal family, was being seated. He was dressed in an dapper white tuxedo with a purple heliotrope as his boutineer. His long, chocolate-colored locks were tied up into a neat ponytail.

The venue around him was decorated from top to bottom with exotic flowers and white streamers. It reminded Leona of the Fairy Gala that took place in the Botanical Garden. "Too shiny..." he thought.

Leona could still hardly believe that he was actually getting married to (Y/n). If someone told him that the new female student who accidentally stepped on his tail would be his future wife, he would've laughed directly in their face, not believing them.

Back in the past, he never gave marriage any thought. Who would ever love and marry someone like him, a loathed second-born prince without a future? Someone would be clearly insane to fall in love with a guy as lowly as him.

So when he encountered (Y/n) once in the Botanical Garden after you accidentally stepped on his tail, twice during the Inter-Dorm Magical Shift Tournament and his Overblot, and three times after you traded your dorm to Azul and spent three nights in his dorm room, he started to develop warm feelings towards you.

At first, they were annoying. Every time (Y/n) would enter the Botanical Garden, Leona's ears would twitch, and his heart would throb with anticipation, hoping to hear your approaching footsteps.

There was also another time when you kissed him right on the cheek as thanks for helping you with a difficult task ordered by Crowley, curse that old crow. He blushed as he felt his heart skip a beat. No other woman, besides his mother and sister-in-law, had ever kissed him before.

This was the first time he had ever been kissed by another woman.

He hated how warm, sweet and fuzzy those feelings were. Was he really falling for you? No way! Why would he ever fall for someone like you, a magicless nobody from another world? He tried to push down those warm, fuzzy feelings until the events of the Fairy Gala.

He recalled how beautiful you truly looked in that pristine white gown with gossamer butterfly wings. Your (H/l) (H/c) hair was woven into little pigtails adorned with daisies and cherry blossoms.

He felt as if time around him had suddenly stopped as he gazed at you. You truly looked like a fairy princess. Even after you were soaked during you and Ruggie's attempt to evade the fairy guards, you still looked ethereal with the water droplets adorning your hair like jewels.

Along with the daisies and cherry blossoms in your hair, you still looked even more beautiful than the Fairy Queen herself. Those warm, fuzzy feelings spiked when you smiled that lovely smile at him.

Leona couldn't figure out how a magicless girl like you from another world had managed to tear down the iron walls guarding his indifferent heart and made him feel important and loved, even after you two started dating. It's such a mystery...

"Thinkin' about something, Leona-san?" Ruggie asked, snapping Leona out of his thoughts. Ruggie was standing behind Leona, clad in a white tuxedo. He was chosen to be his best man.

"Huh? What are you talking about, Ruggie?" he asked. Ruggie just grinned mischievously. "Thinkin' back to the day (Y/n)-kun stepped on your tail in the Botanical Garden?" he asked. Leona just rolled his eyes. "No way. As if I'd ever think of something painful." he scoffed.

"Still trying to deny your feelings for her?" Ruggie asked smugly. Leona glared at him. "Shut it, Ruggie." he quietly snarled. Then, the wedding march began, and everyone stood from their seats, including the King of Briar Valley himself, Malleus Draconia.

(Y/n) insisted that he'd be invited to your wedding, much to Leona's great reluctance. Malleus was quite overjoyed when he received the invitation to attend his friend's wedding and he gave Leona and you his blessing.

First came the bridesmaids, then Grim who was the flower boy. Grim threw out rose petals from his basket as he walked down the aisle. Then came Cheka, walking down the aisle carrying a lilac satin pillow in his hands. Two branded golden rings were nestled on the pillow.

Then the bride, (Y/n) came. Leona felt his heart freeze at the sight of you. You were clad in a sleeveless, pristine white gown, generously given to you by his sister-in-law, the Queen.

Your face was hidden behind a shimmering gossamer veil, and around your neck was a glittering diamond necklace. On your arms were white opera gloves, and in your hand was a bouquet of Sunset Savannah's traditional wedding flowers.

Your other hand was holding the hand of Divus Crewel as you walked down the aisle in time with the march. You looked incredibly beautiful. As soon as (Y/n) reached the alter, you let go of Crewel's hand and he sat in his seat near the rest of the NRC staff.

"Dearly beloved, we have all gathered here on this joyous day to witness the union of Leona Kingscholar and (Y/n) (L/n)." the parishioner began. "May the noble kings of the past smile upon this young couple as they bear witness to their union as one in holy matrimony."

And so, Leona and (Y/n) began your vows as you two faced the statue of the King of Beasts. "Here stands Leona Kingscholar." Leona began solemnly. "And here stands (Y/n) (L/n)." (Y/n) followed.

"Upon this day, we promise to share the joys and tears of our lives together until the end of our days." you said in unison. The parishioner then motioned Cheka to hand the rings over to Leona and (Y/n). Leona took one of the rings and faced (Y/n).

"(Y/n), I, Leona Kingscholar, take you as my lawfully wedded wife. I vow to be the pillar that will lift you high so you could stand tall, to hold your hand through sickness and health, to lend an hand to banish your woes. With this ring, I pledge my everlasting love and fidelity to you until the end of eternity."

After he said his vow, he slipped the gold ring onto your finger. Leona's heart hammered in his chest as he made that vow. He honestly wasn't one to make sappy wedding vows like this, but this is something new and sacred to him.

He is about to start a new chapter in his life with the woman he loves. (Y/n) blushed. Leona can be quite charming sometimes, even when he's saying his wedding vow for the first time.

Then it was your turn to say your vow. "Leona, I, (Y/n) (L/n), take you as my lawfully wedded husband, I vow to be the rock that holds you up so you could stand tall, to light your way through your darkest days, to be the hand that lifts your sorrows. With this ring, I pledge my everlasting love and fidelity to you until the end of eternity." (Y/n) said as you slipped the other ring onto Leona's finger.

"Then, by the power vested in me, with the blessing of the kings of the past, I now pronounce you husband and wife." the parishioner declared. "You may now kiss the bride."

Leona didn't hesitate as he removed the veil from (Y/n)'s face, brought you closer to him and pressed a sweet, deep kiss onto your lips. As you two kissed, a resounding cheer rang out as Leona and (Y/n)'s friends from NRC whooped and cheered. Malleus and Kifaji just smiled proudly.

Even Falena wiped away his tears of joy with a handkerchief as his wife patted his back with a beaming smile on her face. Not only did Leona look so happy, but it also looks like they'll be gaining a new sister-in-law. You and Leona were truly meant for each other.

Leona broke away from the kiss as he gazed at his new bride lovingly. "You look so ravishing, herbivore." he purred. "I could just eat you up." (Y/n) giggled. "Easy there, my king. Shouldn't you call me Mrs. Kingscholar now since we're married?" you asked playfully.

Leona smiled. "Nah, you're still my herbivore. I don't need to address you by some fancy-schmancy title, even though you're now my wife." he said before he leaned in and kissed (Y/n) again.

Cheka clapped and smiled in jubilation as he watched his uncle kiss his new aunt. He was so happy that he has a new aunt. He now has a new playmate! And speaking of playmates, maybe he might also get a new cousin...

#twisted wonderland #leona twst #twst leona #disney twisted wonderland #fem! reader #female reader #leona kingscholar #wedding #wedding vows #romance #leona kingscholar x reader #disney twst #day 29 #disney

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