#sometimes i do just change things slightly like that. like just shift the colors to slightly different tints/shades and it fixes things
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alohajix · 1 month ago
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲
Description: in the quiet town of Holmes Chapel, Amara—a gentle, nurturing kindergarten teacher—lives a life built on routine, safety, and quiet strength. She’s not looking for love, especially not after the scars left behind by someone she’d rather forget. But when Harry Styles walks into her classroom carrying his three-year-old daughter and a heart still grieving the loss of the woman he loved, everything changes. Neither of them is ready. Neither of them is looking. But sometimes, the people who change your life don’t knock first. They just… show up.
Warnings: this mini-series includes grief, past emotional abuse/manipulation, trauma recovery, single parenthood, and emotional vulnerability. Later chapters will contain explicit smut (clearly labeled).
Words count: TBK.
First part is here! Tell me what do you think in the comments💕
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*****
PART ONE – Tiny Brave Things (Words: 12.4K)
AMARA
The kettle clicked off just as the sun began its slow rise behind the garden hedge, spilling pale gold through the kitchen window and casting a honeyed glow across the tile floor. I stood barefoot by the sink, hands wrapped around a mug that still steamed gently against my palms, and let the morning settle around me. The quiet was soft and familiar—no cars, no voices, just the faint hum of the fridge and the birds calling to each other through the hedgerow.
This was my favorite part of the day. Before the noise, before the paint-stained fingers and paper towel crises, before someone cried because someone else used the purple crayon first. Just the stillness of home. My own breath, steady and slow. The ceramic weight of the cup in my hands. The ache in my shoulders I hadn’t realized was there until the heat began to ease it.
I took a sip and leaned against the counter, watching the steam curl and vanish. My skin was still warm from the shower. I hadn’t bothered with the hairdryer—just towel-dried my hair and twisted it into a low bun. A few strands clung to my temples, already loosening in the morning humidity. I didn’t mind.
I glanced at the clock above the oven: 6:41 a.m. Early. Earlier than I needed to be up, but I’d stopped fighting it. My body knew what it needed. I gave up on sleeping in years ago—around the same time I realized I felt safest when I had a little extra time. A little extra quiet. A little extra space between me and whatever the day might bring. Some people woke up to alarms. I woke up to the weight in my chest shifting ever so slightly.
I finished my tea, rinsed the cup, and padded barefoot across the warm kitchen floor to my small dining table—the one I’d rescued from a vintage shop three years ago and painted myself on a rainy weekend. Pale blue, a little chipped at the corners now. I liked it better that way. I pulled out the chair closest to the window, sat down, and reached for my to-do list. Just seeing it calmed me. It was half crossed-out already, scrawled in neat loops across lined paper, right down to things like “pick up more lavender spray” and “replace dying peace lily in reading corner.” I didn’t mind the repetition. Some people found it exhausting. I found it grounding. The structure. The rhythm. The knowledge that every morning, twenty-three little faces would walk through my classroom door, dragging backpacks and half-zipped coats and stories about their cat’s birthday party or a new rainbow shirt.
And today—there’d be one more. Olive Styles. Age three. I hadn’t met her yet. Her father had registered her yesterday, just before the office closed, so I’d only heard the name in passing from Mrs. Keller, the school secretary.
“Sweet-sounding little thing,” she’d said. “He filled everything out perfectly. Very polite. Very…” She’d paused then, lowering her voice even though it was just the two of us. “Put-together.”
I’d smiled, distracted by a stack of coloring books I needed to sort, and hadn’t thought much more of it. At the time. But now, sitting alone in my kitchen with the day stretching ahead of me, I realized I was… curious. Which was ridiculous. Parents came and went. I met them at drop-off, at parent nights, at emergency “your child has a tooth in their pocket again” calls. I didn’t wonder about them. And yet—
I shook it off.
I stood, slipped into my flats, pulled my cardigan from its hook near the door, and took one last glance around the room—everything tidy, everything still. Then I stepped outside.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
Holmes Chapel was still half-asleep as I walked into town. The air was cool against my skin, and the streets shimmered faintly with dew. I took the long route, weaving past hedgerows and low stone walls, nodding to the dog walkers I saw every morning. The same faces. The same smiles.
That was the thing about this town—you couldn’t hide in it. Not really. People knew each other. Knew who’d married whom. Who’d left, who’d come back. And in my case, who’d once dated Logan Clark, and who now politely avoided the subject.
I passed Mrs. Whitmore’s house just as she stepped out in her robe and slippers, watering can in hand.
“Morning, love,” she called, not looking up.
“Morning. They’re looking lovely,” I said, nodding at her roses.
“They always bloom early when the weather’s soft,” she replied, and I smiled.
I turned down the high street, already waking up with the scent of fresh bread drifting from the bakery and the soft jingle of the florist unlocking her front door. The bell above the café rang as someone stepped out with a paper bag and a steaming cup. I walked past it all, my pace steady, familiar.
Ten minutes later, I pushed through the iron gate in front of the school and stepped into the quiet hallways of a place that had become more home than anything else. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead as I made my way to my classroom. The moment I unlocked the door, I was hit with the faint scent of lavender spray and children’s markers. I breathed it in like oxygen.
This space—bright, safe, colorful—was where everything felt steady. The paper butterflies we’d made last week still hung from the ceiling, their wings swaying in the faint breeze from the open window. The reading corner cushions were fluffed. The whiteboard still had the words “You Are So Loved” written in big, bubbly letters.
I set down my bag, slipped off my cardigan, and turned on the fairy lights above the bookshelf. Then I got to work. Puzzles out. Name tags in place. Crayons sorted. Paint trays prepped. I moved with the rhythm of someone who’d done this a hundred times and still cared enough to make it feel new. I was adjusting a stack of books when I heard a familiar voice from the doorway.
“Well, well. Look who beat me in.”
I turned to see Mya, leaning against the doorframe, holding two takeaway cups and smiling like she knew something I didn’t.
“Miracles happen,” I said, walking over to take one of the cups. “No more running in at 7:59 like I’ve just escaped a burning building.”
“I don’t know, I kind of liked that look on you,” she said, stepping into the room. “A little wild-eyed. Kept the parents on their toes.”
“You’re terrible.”
“I’m honest.”
She sank into the beanbag in the corner and took a sip of her drink, eyes following me as I rearranged the art supply shelf.
“So,” she said casually. “Today’s the day, yeah?”
I glanced over. “The new student?”
“Olive Styles,” she said, as if she were testing the name out loud.
I nodded. “Starts today.”
Mya grinned. “That’s such a cute kid name. Sounds like someone who wears tiny boots and carries a leaf collection in her pocket.”
“I hope so.”
She gave me a look. “And the dad?”
I blinked. “What about him?”
Mya raised her eyebrows. “You tell me. The name Styles isn’t exactly forgettable.”
I shrugged, turning to face the shelf again. “Mrs. Keller said he filled out everything properly. Sounded polite.”
“That’s code for hot,” she said, sipping her coffee with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s code for ‘I didn’t ask.’”
“Sure. Sure it is.”
I tossed a crayon box at her gently. “Some of us are focused on the children, thank you.”
She laughed, catching it. “You’re such a mum already, it’s scary.”
“Maybe someday.” The words slipped out before I could catch them. I didn’t mean to sound wistful, but there was a silence after that. A breath.
Mya watched me for a beat too long. “You’d be a brilliant mum, you know.”
I smiled, quiet. “Thanks.”
She stood and handed me the empty cup. “Alright, I’ve got to go prep for my own little chaos tornado. But text me if anything interesting happens.”
“Define interesting.”
She grinned. “Tall, dark, and devastating.” And with that, she left.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
HARRY
Olive was already in bed with me when the alarm went off. I didn’t even hear the first buzz. Just felt her small hand tug at my T-shirt, the way she always did in the early hours. Her knees were curled into my side, bunny tucked between us, thumb grazing her bottom lip like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to suck it or not. She never cried out when she came into my room—just showed up, quiet, steady, like her body remembered something her mouth hadn’t quite learned how to say.
I blinked up at the ceiling, still hazy with sleep, then down at her soft curls resting against my chest. It was early. Still grey outside. Still the kind of hush that made you feel like the world hadn’t quite started yet. I liked that part. The stillness. The space between night and day. The part where no one needed anything from me yet. Except for her. I brushed a hand gently down her back, the fabric of her sleep shirt warm from sleep.
“Morning, bug,” I whispered. She didn’t answer, just snuggled closer. Today was her first day. The first day of something new. And it felt… big. Bigger than it should’ve.
It wasn’t just preschool. It was the first time I’d let someone else carry her weight for a few hours. The first time she’d sit in a room full of strangers and look around for a face that wasn’t mine.
I pressed a kiss to her hair. “Think we can be brave today?”
Her breath shuddered out across my chest. Just a tiny sound. She didn’t answer. I didn’t push. We stayed like that for a few more minutes, until the light outside turned a little less grey and a little more gold. Then I sat up slowly, pulling her into my lap.
“Toast and jam?” I asked. She nodded, eyes still heavy. “Milk in the bunny mug?”
She gave me a sleepy thumbs up. I carried her to the kitchen, setting her gently on one of the bar stools. She leaned against the counter with her head in her hands, bunny tucked under one arm, curls wild and matted in the back. I started the toast and turned on the kettle, letting the familiar motions quiet the nerves buzzing under my skin.
The house was still. Not empty—but quieter than it used to be. There were still traces of Becca everywhere. In the way the mugs didn’t match. In the pink apron hanging behind the pantry door. In the stack of kids’ books on the shelf near the fireplace. I hadn’t moved any of it. Couldn’t. Some days, it helped. Some days, it made me want to take a hammer to the walls.
Olive stayed quiet while I made breakfast. I knew she was nervous—could feel it in the way she picked at the hem of her sleeve, in the way she stared at her bunny like it might have answers she didn’t. I set her food down and leaned against the counter across from her.
“You remember we’re going to school today, right?” She nodded, eyes on her plate. “And remember, I’m not leaving until you’re ready.”
Her lips pressed together, like she was thinking hard. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I know,” I said gently. “You don’t have to. I’ll be right outside for a little while. And then I’ll come pick you up after lunch, just like we said.”
She took a tiny bite of toast. “Will there be books?”
“Lots.”
“Glue?”
“Probably.”
She looked up. “The funny-smelling kind?”
I smiled. “The exact one.”
Her shoulders dropped slightly. “Okay.”
I walked over, crouching beside her stool so I was eye-level. “You’re gonna be okay, bug. Just try your best. That’s all.”
She leaned into me, small arms around my neck. “Will Miss be nice?”
I hoped so. “Yeah. I think she will.”
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
We were quiet on the drive. I kept the music soft—something acoustic and familiar—and glanced at her in the rearview mirror every few seconds. She was staring out the window, bunny still in her lap, curls pulled into two low pigtails that I’d clumsily tied myself. Becca used to braid them. Made them look easy. Olive never flinched when Becca did her hair. Now, she only let me do it if I promised to be gentle. And I always tried.
We pulled into the small car park beside the school, and I turned off the engine. Olive looked up at the building. Then back at me. Her bottom lip wobbled. Just once. I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for her.
“You ready to be brave?” She shook her head. “That’s okay,” I said, lifting her carefully from the seat. “You can do it scared, too.”
I carried her toward the building, her arms looped tightly around my neck, bunny squished between us. The school was quiet from the outside, sunlight glinting off the windows, the iron gate just barely ajar. When we reached the door, I paused. She was breathing fast, her forehead pressed to my collarbone.
“Bug,” I whispered, “you’re safe.”
She didn’t let go. But she didn’t pull away either. I adjusted her in my arms, took a deep breath, and opened the door. And there she was.
She turned from the bookshelf when we walked in, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The room glowed behind her—fairy lights strung above the shelves, sunlight pooling on the rug, soft music playing from a speaker I couldn’t see. It smelled like lavender and Play-Doh and something warm I couldn’t name.
She looked up at us and smiled. It wasn’t polite. It wasn’t practiced. It was soft. Real. Welcoming in a way I hadn’t expected.
“Hi,” she said, walking toward us. “You’re right on time.”
Her voice was gentle—like she was speaking to both of us at once. Not just Olive. Olive peeked at her from beneath my chin.
“I’m Miss Amara,” she said softly. “But you can call me Miss, if that feels easier.”
Olive didn’t answer, but she didn’t hide, either.
“She’s a bit shy,” I said, my voice lower now, unsure why. “And this is all new.”
“I understand,” Amara said. “She can take all the time she needs.”
I nodded, heart tugging as Olive pressed her face into my neck.
“She brought her favorite book,” I added, reaching into her little backpack and pulling out The Koala Who Could. “And her blanket’s in there, too. Just in case.”
She took the book gently from my hands, her eyes scanning the cover like she recognized it.
“Thank you,” she said. “This helps a lot.”
“She likes the part with the tree,” I said, then caught myself. “Sorry. I know you probably don’t need all that.”
“No,” she smiled. “It’s lovely. I like knowing what matters to her.” She knelt down a little, meeting Olive’s eye line. “I heard you’re very good at puzzles,” she said softly. “I saved a special one for you, if you want to see it.”
Olive didn’t move at first. Then, slowly—so slowly—she turned to look at me.
I nodded, brushing a curl behind her ear. “Want to try?”
She hesitated. Then let her arms fall away from my neck. I crouched down and set her gently on the floor, her bunny still tight in her hands.
“You can bring that,” Amara said. “We like bunnies here.”
Olive blinked at her. Just once. Then followed her toward a little round table covered in puzzle pieces. I stayed by the door, heart full of something I couldn’t name. Amara turned back, eyes meeting mine.
“She’ll be alright,” she said. I believed her.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
AMARA
Olive didn’t say much. But she didn’t cry either. And honestly? That was more than enough.
She sat at the little round table near the windows, gently pressing puzzle pieces into place like it was a task someone had assigned her and she was determined to get it right. I stayed near her for the first ten minutes. I didn’t hover—just tidied nearby, made soft commentary, occasionally pointed out a missing tail or paw. She didn’t respond with words, but every once in a while, she’d glance at me. Just to check I was still there.
Eventually, I drifted across the room to welcome the others. Kids tumbled in—some running, some sleepy, one in tears because her snack box had the wrong sticker on it. The usual chaos. The beautiful, joyful, sticky kind. And all the while, Olive watched. She didn’t join in. But she didn’t shrink away either. She sat with her bunny tucked between her knees and her shoulders squared like she was bracing for something.
About an hour in, I was helping two boys at the paint table when I felt her beside me. Quiet as anything. She held up a small piece of paper. It was her drawing. A tree. A tiny grey shape in the middle. A koala.
I crouched to her level and smiled. “That’s beautiful.”
She pointed to the koala. “Kevin.”
“From your book?” She nodded once. “He looks very brave in your drawing.” She didn’t say anything. But she smiled.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
At snack time, I let her sit beside me. Some of the kids liked crowding together in little clusters on the rug, but Olive stayed close. Not clinging—just nearby. Her bunny sat in her lap while she quietly munched on crackers and watched the others giggle about apples shaped like hearts.
One of the boys—Elliot—came over and plopped down beside her without warning. Olive stiffened.
“That’s mine,” he said, pointing at one of the puzzle blocks she’d brought over earlier.
I turned toward him gently. “She’s using the extra pieces from the bin, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
He frowned. “But I used the yellow one yesterday.”
“She didn’t take it,” I said softly. Olive stayed frozen. I crouched, placing a hand gently on her back. “It’s okay.” She looked at me—those big, searching eyes—and I swear, the tension in her shoulders melted just a little at my touch. I looked to Elliot. “How about you show Olive how you built your tower yesterday? Maybe you can do it together?”
He grumbled, but after a minute, he nodded and scooted closer. Olive glanced at me again, then sat up straighter. She placed the yellow block in front of him. And when he smiled at her, she whispered, “Okay.” It was barely audible. But it was there. And something in me shifted.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
The day flowed in soft, colorful waves. We did handprint art with washable paint. I read a story about a dragon who only ate marshmallows. Olive sat closest to the rug’s edge but turned her head toward me with each page. She never interrupted like the others did. Just listened, wide-eyed, taking it all in. She let another little girl braid one of her pigtails. She handed someone a red crayon without being asked. She laughed—once—when someone sneezed glitter by accident.
And for a few precious hours, I didn’t think about Logan. Until I heard my name at the door.
“Amara?” I looked up to see Mrs. Keller peeking in, holding a clipboard. “Phone message for you, love. Not urgent. Just… something to have.”
I stood, brushing paint from my hands, and met her at the door. She handed me the pink slip.
LOGAN, it read in thick, rushed letters.
Called to ask what time you finish today. Said he might stop by.
The breath caught in my throat before I could hide it.
Mrs. Keller’s eyes softened. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” I lied. Because what else was I supposed to say?
I tucked the note into the pocket of my cardigan and turned back to the classroom. Olive was watching me. Not with fear. Not with confusion. Just… watching. Like she knew what it looked like when someone got a call that changed the air around them.
I forced a smile. “Time to clean up, sweet pea. Want to help me with the paint lids?” She nodded. Didn’t let go of her bunny. But walked with me anyway.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
The clock on the classroom wall ticked closer to one. The sunlight had shifted across the room now, casting warm stripes on the floor where a few kids were finishing their snack. Most had gone home for the day—early pickups and half schedules. Olive was the last still waiting. But she didn’t seem worried.
She sat beside me at the low round table, her bunny perched carefully on the edge, as we sorted puzzle pieces back into their box. She was focused. Calm. And every once in a while, she’d glance at the door. Not anxiously—just waiting. It was only her first day, and somehow, she was already part of this place.
I felt a quiet kind of pride settle in my chest.
When the knock finally came, she didn’t flinch. Just turned her head and smiled before I even stood up. I walked to the door and opened it.
He was there. Harry Styles. His curls were slightly messier than this morning, like he’d run a hand through them too many times. He wore a grey jumper and jeans, his coat unzipped, his shoulders a little more relaxed than they’d been before. But his eyes? Still soft. Still searching.
“Hey,” he said, a little quieter than necessary. “She alright?”
“She’s better than alright,” I said, smiling as I stepped aside. “She’s been brilliant.”
He looked over my shoulder and saw her—tiny, bunny in hand, puzzle box now clutched to her chest. His shoulders dropped a little more. And for a second, something passed between us. Not a moment. Not yet. But a pause. Like he saw me now. Not just as her teacher. As something more.
Olive slid off the chair and padded over in her little pink trainers, curls bouncing softly.
“Daddy,” she said, not with desperation—just warmth.
He crouched and held out his arms, scooping her into a hug. “Hey, bug. You did it.”
She pulled back just enough to show him the puzzle box. “We found the fox.”
“You did?” he said, eyes wide like she’d just announced she’d climbed a mountain.
She nodded, then looked at me. “Miss helped.”
I smiled. “She did most of it herself.”
Harry stood, Olive still perched on one arm. He turned to me with something in his expression that wasn’t just gratitude.
“You’re very good with her,” he said.
“I try to be good with all of them,” I replied gently. “But she made it easy.”
He exhaled through his nose. “She doesn’t usually let go like that. Not since…” He trailed off, glancing down at her. I knew what he was going to say. He didn’t need to finish it.
“I’m glad she felt safe here,” I said.
He looked back at me, and for a second, the noise in the hallway faded. Everything stilled.
“ If she wants to come back tomorrow.” I smiled. “She’ll have her spot waiting.”
He nodded. “Same time?”
“Same time.”
We stood there for a second longer than we needed to. Then Olive tugged gently at his collar. “Can we get the bread with the holes?”
“The bagels?” he asked, already smiling. “Course we can.”
He glanced at me one last time. “Thanks again, Miss Amara.”
I liked the way he said it. Like it mattered. “You’re welcome,” I said. And I meant it.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
The classroom emptied slowly. I lingered, like I always did. Wiping down the tables. Tidying the reading corner. Restoring the classroom to the gentle stillness it always held before the day began again.
The sunlight had faded to a softer gold now, stretching long across the floors. I turned off the fairy lights and packed my things with the kind of slow rhythm that comes after a full, good day. I didn’t feel tired. Not the heavy kind. I felt full. Full of little moments. Olive’s soft voice. Her quiet nod. The way Harry had looked at her—and at me—like something new had settled between the three of us and none of us quite had the words for it yet.
I stepped out into the early evening air and started toward the square. I hadn’t planned to stop at the market, but my fridge at home was bare, and the day had left me craving something warm. Something soft. Maybe bread. Or jam. Or chocolate.
The cobblestone paths were glowing under the fading sun as I walked into the village center. The hanging baskets of spring flowers swayed gently in the breeze. A woman walked past with her daughter, holding hands and humming the same tune Olive had been singing under her breath at cleanup time.
The bell above the market door jingled as I stepped inside. It smelled like oranges and pinewood. I made my way to the produce aisle and reached for a basket of strawberries, still thinking about the way Olive had said Miss helped like it meant something deeper.
“Afternoon, Miss Amara.” I turned.
Mr. Beckett stood behind me in his usual green jumper, arms tucked behind his back like he always had something to say.
“Hi, Mr. Beckett,” I said, smiling.
He gave a knowing look. “Heard you’ve got a new one in class.”
I nodded. “Olive Styles.”
He tilted his head. “That’d be Harry’s girl, wouldn’t it? Up by the hill cottages?”
I hesitated. “Yes.”
“Sweet thing, that one. Saw them last week at the bakery. Didn’t say much, but the little girl had her eyes on the pain au chocolat like it held all the answers to the universe.”
I laughed softly. “Sounds like her.”
He leaned on his cane, his voice gentler now. “People talk, you know. Small town and all. Shame what happened to his girl.”
My throat tightened. “Yes.”
“I didn’t know her well,” he went on. “But she had a light to her. That kind of quiet kindness you don’t always see anymore.”
“She must’ve been special,” I said.
He looked at me for a long moment. “You’re one of the good ones, Amara. Always were. That little girl’s lucky to have you.”
“Thank you,” I said, the words catching slightly on their way out.
He smiled, tipped his cap, and moved toward the back of the shop. I stood still for a second, basket in my hand, surrounded by fruit and light and the soft hum of old music playing overhead.
I didn’t know what I was feeling. But it was something. Something warm. Something real.
I grabbed a loaf of bread, a jar of raspberry jam, and—without thinking—a bar of chocolate I didn’t need but wanted anyway.
When I stepped back outside, the sun had slipped behind the rooftops, and the sky was washed in pale pink and lavender. And even though the air had cooled, something lingered in my chest. Not warmth. Not yet. But the sense that maybe—just maybe—something had shifted. And when it did… I’d be ready.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
HARRY
Olive fell asleep before I finished the dishes. She was curled sideways on the couch in her unicorn pajamas, one hand tucked under her cheek and the other still wrapped around her bunny’s floppy ear. I didn’t move her right away. I just stood in the doorway, watching her chest rise and fall in that slow, even rhythm that only came when she was truly safe.
The house was dim now, lit only by the lamp in the corner and the glow of the kitchen light. There was music playing low on the speaker—something soft with strings—but I couldn’t hear it clearly over the noise in my head.
I’d done it. We’d done it. Day one.
She’d gone to school, let go of my hand, sat at a table beside strangers, and smiled at her teacher. She’d come home with purple marker smudged on her fingertips and told me about Kevin the koala like it was the most important story in the world.
And she’d said she wanted to go back. That part broke me a little. In a good way. I sat on the floor beside the couch, letting my hand rest gently on her foot. Just enough to feel her warmth. I thought about Becca. About how proud she would’ve been. How she’d probably cry and then pretend not to. How she’d make cupcakes for the whole class after week one and write me a to-do list I didn’t ask for.
I closed my eyes and let the ache come and go like it always did. Then I opened them again. And saw Olive’s sketchbook on the coffee table. I flipped it open slowly, expecting crayon scribbles. But there it was. A tree. A koala. And below it, written in crooked three-year-old letters, a name.
Miss.
And just like that, Amara’s face filled my mind again—her quiet voice, her steady gaze, the way she’d crouched beside Olive like she’d known exactly what to say and exactly when to say nothing at all. I didn’t know why she stayed with me like that. But she did. And something about it felt a little like the beginning of something I wasn’t sure I deserved.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻
AMARA
I sat on the couch in my comfiest socks with a cup of tea cooling beside me and my feet tucked beneath a throw I’d had since university.
The house was quiet. Lavender-scented. Dim except for the reading lamp behind me. I should’ve been grading. Or planning. Or sleeping. But my thoughts kept circling back to her. To Olive. To the way she’d looked up at me after storytime with a crayon in one hand and her bunny tucked under the other.
And—maybe more than that—to him. To the softness in his voice when he said her name. To the look in his eyes when she reached for my hand. To the quiet that settled between us like something shared.
My phone buzzed with a text from Mya.
MYA: Sooo… how was the dad?
I smiled, shaking my head and picked up the phone—only to see another notification above hers. One I didn’t open.
LOGAN: Still pretending I don’t exist? You know I can always find you.
I locked the screen. Pushed the chill back down. Then opened Mya’s message instead.
AMARA: Polite. Thoughtful. The kind of guy who remembers which page in the koala book his daughter loves most.
MYA: Oh no. You like him.
AMARA: I don’t know him.
MYA: Yet.
I put the phone down and leaned my head back against the cushion. The warmth from the tea drifted into the air, sweet and steady. And somewhere beneath the comfort of the night and the quiet hum of my house, I felt it again. That shift. That pull. That soft, slow opening. Something new. Something gentle. Something I didn’t have a name for yet.
But maybe— Maybe when I’m ready, I’ll let it in.
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meanbossart · 10 months ago
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Hello! Your art is very cool! I'm wondering, what do you do when drawing two simmiliar panels, like, the character is in a slightly different pose, or has a different expression? Do you draw the entire thing twice, or do you copy/paste at some point? If so when? After color, before color/shading?
Hey there! If the panel is 90% the same and I've just changed a small detail like a facial expression or hands, I will copy and paste the lines, erase the parts I want to change and redraw them the way I want them to look. Then, I'll color and shade the original panel to completion, copy & paste all of those layers and fit them onto the new lines.
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As you can tell I keep everything on separate layers, so it's very easy to just pick things up and move them as necessary, as well as to make alterations to individual layers so they fit the changes made to the new lines (just erase that area and redo it, same as for lines). TIP: If you hold SHIFT while moving a layer on CSP, the movement will stick to a grid so it's easier to place them with more precision.
Even after this point, I will often still go back & forth between the panels making small adjustments, which leaves them with slight variations (If you flip between the two images on this post you will be able to tell). But it's nothing that the naked eye can see so there's no reason to worry about it.
If you want to be REALLY anal about it (hehe) you could place the merged layers over each other, use a quick mask to erase areas so that the changes show through, and merge that into a new layer so that the panels are EXACT copies save for whatever you intended to be different. I will do that sometimes if I've made too many alterations between panels, but usually it's not really necessary.
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Hope this helps!
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ladymoody · 7 months ago
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hi!! i was wondering if u could make a story with sid jenkins and y/n where they're friends and she drags sid out to go shopping with her and she's in the changing room trying on a dress and the zipper gets stuck so sid goes in to help her and things get a little spicy? basically that one scene with jal but it leads to more lmao
HANDS ON ME
sid jenkins x fem!reader
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warnings: nsfw +18, swearing, explicit language, breast squeezing, loss of verginity (sid), p in v penetration, cum.
word count: 2,3k
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist ; playlist ; characters list ; my website
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I was on sid’s bed as he played some stupid video games on his computer. the constant electronic voice that said “you lost” was getting on my nerves and the annoying sound of him pressing those buttons on the joystick wasn’t helping at all. I laid there, staring at the ceiling as I played with a small ball that I had previously found in a drawer of his nightstand, next to a playboy magazine.
sometimes I shifted my gaze on sid, who was focused on the screen and slightly leaned in to have a better look at the game. he had his messy hair all over his forehead and he wasn’t wearing his usual woolen hat — he was still wearing his pajamas at the top but nothing at the bottom, except for his boxers and high socks with some little ducks printed on the fabric.
“ugh! it keeps making me start all over!” he groaned throwing the joystick on his desk.
“then do something else other than letting a damn game brainwash you.”
“but I’ve got only 50 coins left to unlock a new level!”
I huffed and sat up, crossing my arms against my chest. “I am not going to sit here doing nothing just because you have to win that fucking game. get your ass off that chair and spend some time with me.”
sid stared at me and I could tell that he felt bad for ignoring me this whole time. he hesitated as his gaze kept shifting between the computer and me, but then he spoke. “you’re right, I’m sorry.”
I let out a little sound of pride and untangled my arms to place them on the bed, propping myself up.
“wanna do something more productive?”
“like what?” he stood up and grabbed an already-opened pack of chips and started munching them.
“shall we go to the mall?”
“no.”
“aw why not?” I pouted and stood up as well.
“well, I don’t want to follow you like a puppy the whole time while you try clothes on.”
“but you are a puppy.” I joked. sid blushed, just slightly, and scratched the back of his head.
“don’t call me that.”
“why not?” I smirked and stepped closer.
“I don’t like it.”
“come to the mall with me and I’ll stop calling you that.”
he sighed.
he never liked going to the mall with me because he knew I would’ve paid more attention to the clothes and completely forgot about him. though, I knew he enjoyed following me around and giving me recommendations about clothes.
“come on… make your friend happy.” I smiled and got even closer to him, placing my hands on his lower chest narrowly tickling him.
sid blushed, this time more visibly, and he hesitatingly nodded.
(skip time)
I was walking down the mall, checking at the windows and popping in the shops every now and then. sid was behind me holding my shopping bags — I had bought two pairs of jeans, a pair of shoes, jewelry and a beautiful brown scarf — yet, I felt like there was something missing… a dress!
“one last shop, then we’ll go home.” I reassured sid and he sheepishly murmured “okay.”
I headed towards a shop that looked quite nice, it seemed fancy and by its window I could tell it had clothes of my color palette.
sid and I walked in and I started scanning the big room — there were beautiful coats, fancy shoes, long and short skirts and gaudy tops. no. I needed a dress.
“oh! there they are.” I rushed to a smaller section of the shop where I found a large hanger full of marvelous dresses. I started looking through it, examining the pieces of clothing one by one. sid waited patiently behind me, his gaze wandering around the shop in curiosity but also embarrassment to find himself in such a girly place.
suddenly I picked up a beautiful mini purple dress, tight and soft.
“found something you like?” he asked.
“yes, I think I’ll try it on.” I said as I turned to ask a shop assistant where I would’ve found the fitting rooms.
sid watched me disappear behind a wall not so far from where I picked up the dress from. he followed me and stood next to the fitting room I had got in. I closed the curtain and started taking my clothes off.
“how come you have all this money?” he asked from outside.
“it’s my parents’.” I said as I slipped the dress on.
“oh, I see…”
I turned around, looked behind my shoulder and into the mirror to zip it up. the dress fitted perfectly.
“how do I look?” I opened the curtain and did a quick spin to allow sid to have a full view of the dress. his mouth went dry and he blinked fast, he was struggling to keep his calm demeanor.
“g-good.. i-it looks good…” he stuttered as his nervous eyes darted over my figure.
“great, I’ll buy it.” I went back in the fitting room and closed to curtain.
after some moments I opened it again, finding sid touching where he was not supposed to touch — he almost jumped as I peeked my head out, catching him admiring some lingerie nearby.
“uhh… I was.. well, there was.. uhhh…”
I totally ignored what he was trying to say or what he was doing before I opened the curtain, instead, I just went straight to the point.
“the zip got stuck, could you help me?”
sid’s eyes lit up, but his nervous expression took back over right after.
“y-you want me to help you with the zipper?”
“yes.”
“am I supposed to… go in with you?”
“well, yes, if you don’t want the whole shop to see me naked.”
sid blushed and I assumed it was the word “naked” that had him getting uncomfortable. or the thought of me being it.
he quickly pulled himself together, rushing inside the fitting room with me and placing down the shopping bags he previously had in his hands.
I knew how sid was, so shy with girls and also a bit of a klutz too. I wanted him to get out of his comfort zone and the only way I could have done it was leaving him room to make the first move.
sid noticed I was just standing there, staring at myself in the mirror, and understood he needed to get his hands on me to help me fix the zipper. he gently moved my hair aside, letting fall on my cleavage as his hands worked on my back to take the zip down.
I looked at him through the mirror with a proud expression on my face, content that I was making him do a nice thing for his friend but also intimate from a certain point of view.
he struggled a bit, but he eventually managed to let the zip slide down effortlessly. “done.”
I breathed out and thanked him, but then I felt his hands roaming on the small of my back longer than necessary. at first I didn’t know how to feel about it, knowing sid was shy about everything that had to do with girls, but somehow his hands felt expert as if he knew what he was doing.
“you look amazing in this color.”
did he just compliment me? out of the blue? no stuttering?
“thank you, sid.” I cooed.
I saw him smiling behind me, before skimming his hands around my waist. oh. that felt nice.
“you.. like it?” I spoke again referring to the dress and he just hummed in response.
sid’s hands roamed on my hips, touching my curves as he admired my back — the zipper down allowed him to glance at my bra. he brought one of his hands back on my back, now delicately touching my bare skin right under the clasp of my bra.
“sid…”
his hands trembled a bit, so I knew he was still the same, but this time he was… bolder. I loved the feeling of his hands on me, he just felt too good.
sid’s face lowered on my shoulder and I tilted my head aside to give him better access. I kept looking at him through the fitting room mirror, his eyes making eye contact with mine as he started placing wet kisses on my skin. his hands went back around my waist and I placed mine on his. I couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure as I threw my head back, making it fall on his shoulder. sid smirked and started sucking on my skin, probably leaving a hickey.
“sid… what are you doing?” I chuckled.
he didn’t respond but just brought his hands on my shoulders, slowly and a bit hesitantly lowering my dress straps. I watched him moving both inexpertly and confidently, now pulling my dress down until it exposed my perfectly-sitting breasts in my black bra. I saw sid’s eyes falling on my chest shamelessly, before shifting back on mine and blushing.
“it’s okay… you can touch.” I reassured him as I guided his hands to cup my boobs. he touched them both, at first squeezing them from the bra shyly and cautiously, but then getting a sudden burst of confidence as he heard me moan and shut my eyes under his touch. his grip grew firmer and slid his hands under my bra to touch me fully. I couldn’t wait anymore and I undid it, letting it fall onto the ground and making sid nearly drool at the sight. I quickly stepped out of my dress to remain in my underwear only — I turned around, facing sid and wrapping my arms around his neck. his hands instinctively grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, his eyes eating mine behind those glasses. despite he was making a lot of moves, I could hear his heartbeat louder and faster than normal, his hands a bit sweaty and his cheeks flushed of a light shade of pink.
“we’ve become temerarious, mh?” I teased him as my right hand started touching his chest, playing and tugging at his shirt.
“a bit…” he sheepishly answered. he was so sexy and cute at the same time.
he leaned in, crashing his lips to mine. oh my god, he was a good kisser! we started heavily eating each other, completely skipping the slow and romantic initial part of make-outs. his tongue tapped falteringly on my bottom lip, slipping into my mouth to tangle it with mine.
he pressed me against the mirror making a loud sound that didn’t bother any of us, who were apparently too focused on the kiss — then he grabbed my thighs and lifted me in his arms.
I was aware of the people outside who might have heard us. the kissing sounds were obvious and noisy, but I didn’t care — my friend, who was no longer just a friend, was making out with me! everybody knew sid was a virgin — his friend tony called him a loser because he had never touched a girl that was not in a friendly hug, let alone ever kissed one.
sid and I kept kissing, the noise of the chatter outside, the sound of our lips seeking each other, his hands all over me… god, I was in heaven.
he suddenly broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. our eyes were both shut and our breaths came out in ragged gasps. his right hand left my arse and went on his jeans, his fingers hurrying to unzip them.
“are you sure?” I asked him.
“yeah… you don’t understand how badly I wanted you for all these years, y/n… having to stand there watching you hooking up with other boys while I couldn’t make a move…”
I smiled at his words, feeling flattered and also relieved that the attraction I felt was mutual. I let him unzip his jeans and drop them down at his ankles, his boxers next. he quickly moved my panties aside, his hand slightly shaking as he did so.
“mhh…” I bit my lip as I gazed at sid’s size. fuck. that was… certainly not small!
his cheeks colored red again, but this time I couldn’t tell if it was because he was embarrassed or just very hot and aroused.
he slowly guided his cock against my core, letting it lubricate with the wetness of my pussy. then he gradually let it slither inside. I felt it filling me up inch by inch (around 7 inches) and I moaned for each thrust.
“don’t- shh…” he tried to quiet me down, we were still in public after all, but luckily we were in a crowded shop and I guess people were barely hearing what happened in that fitting room.
it took all of my will not to scream at each movement of his thick member, his thrusts were rough and uneven, yet so strong and defined. I kept feeling his cock head hitting my g-spot repeatedly and relentlessly, almost forgetting that I needed to be quiet.
my hands grabbed his shoulders, my nails dug in his skin. “I’m… I’m close, sid…”
he listened to my moans and pleas and fastened his pace, pistoning inside me. I hit the edge, I overcame it. I moaned in his ear not to let the other people hear us, and I rode the wave of pleasure he was able to give me.
my juices covered his cock, which made him come right after me. he pulled out, stroking his head with his hand, and spurred his seed on my stomach.
“oh my god…” he slowed down and panted in my ear. we both chuckled, our eyes still closed due to pleasure.
I never thought I would’ve had sex with my friend.
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heesdreamer · 2 years ago
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TOUCH STARVED
PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader
SUMMARY ➩ your bestfriend dyes his hair blonde and old feelings start to surface.
WC ➩ 6.7k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ I recommended listening to I know by Faye Webster Short and simple but I’ve had writers block and just wanted to try to work through it with something easy and comfortable. Thank you for your patience and support NOT PROOFREAD
“Woah.”
“Woah? What kind of reaction is that?” The boy in you doorway had completed deflated after hearing your lifeless exclamation, shoulders dropping in a small sigh as his eyebrows turned downwards on his tired face to glare at you.
It wasn’t a strange sight to see Lee Heeseung standing in the hallway outside of your apartments doorway, even less strange that he was carrying two convenience store slushees, one in his hand and the other tucked neatly into the crease of his elbow. His free hand had just fallen to his side from pushing his hoodie off his head and revealing the only strange thing about this scene.
“When did you do that?” You were instinctively moving your arm up to reach out and touch his hair that he had freshly bleached blonde apparently, shocking you for just a second when he showcased it with an expectant look on his face.
You caught yourself before touching him but he didn’t seem to notice anyways, pushing past you with another sigh and dramatically flopping onto your couch with a grouchy expression.
“It looks nice Hee, just took me by surprise.” You were following behind him and sitting on the couch with a bit of distance between the two of you, watching him curiously and taking note of the ways his features changed underneath the new hair color.
Heeseung had been your best friend ever since you moved into the city a few years ago, frequently stopping at the comic book store he worked at to pick up gifts to send back home to your little brother and eventually, once he had quit for a better opportunity, he had rushed out of the store one day and asked if you wanted to exchange numbers so you didn’t lose touch.
It had become such a casual routine for you to see him, holding small conversations that over time turned into lengthy talks that accidentally held up the stores lines sometimes.
A handful of days contained you stopping by during your lunch break and eating with him behind the register. Heeseung made you laugh harder than anyone you’d ever met and you found that to be even more true once you started seeing him outside of his work.
Two years passed since he quit his job and you’d almost forgotten what it was like to not know him, easily blending into your life and becoming the first person on your call list at all times. Hence why it wasn’t exactly strange for him to be pouting on your couch, disappointed you hadn’t reacted more to the sudden change of his hair.
Heeseung was always the more impulsive one out of the two of you and he constantly seemed to be jumping from hobby to hobby, the perfectionist side of him never letting him stick to learning just one thing. His style and aesthetic had switched about a dozen times since you’d met him and he was never quite satisfied with the posters hanging in his apartment but the hair was definitely a big change, even for him.
“You think it looks nice?” He was looking at you from the side of his eye carefully, still fully attempting to keep up his upset facade but you didn’t miss the fact he was fishing for compliments.
You sighed and shifted on your knees so you were a touch closer to him on the couch, used to his dramatics by now but you figured you’d humor him slightly since he could be sensitive at times.
He didn’t say anything when you moved forward but he tensed a bit when your hand was coming up to touch the brightly dyed hair, your eyes widening in slight surprise considering it didn’t feel completely dead. You were running your hand through his thick hair and trying not to think about how unusual it was for you to be so touchy with him, never really being the type of friends who were overly affectionate with each other.
He hugged you on your birthdays and occasionally touched the small of your back when guiding you through a crowded party or event and you were extremely grateful for his lack of contact considering you definitely weren’t oblivious to how attractive your best friend was.
You’d even eventually came to terms with the fact you positively had a crush on him when you’d first met, something you denied to your friends and family back home whenever they picked up on the smile in your voice at the mention of your new friend and inquired for details.
Being friends with Heeseung was more important to you and it was easy to forget how much you had originally liked him if it meant keeping him in your life, even easier considering he never seemed to toe that line that you nearly crossed occasionally the first year or two.
The line you were carefully skating towards right now with your hand in his hair, close enough on the couch to where your knee touched his thigh for just a second before you were scooting your lower half away a bit to avoid the contact. You didn’t take your hand away however but it moved down to his eyebrows instead, smoothing them down with your thumb and remembering he had asked a question when it quirked up as he waited for a response.
“It makes you look more serious.” You mumbled and he still had an expectant look on his face, like he wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer. “Your eyes look more intense now with your dark eyebrows. It’s sort of sexy.”
He snorted a laugh at that and shook his head in denial, realizing you were teasing him and giving him the answers you figured he was looking for.
“Okay but I am serious about it looking nice.” You were smiling as you spoke and he was watching you closely considering you were still gently rubbing his eyebrow with your thumb, retracting your hand after a few seconds and clearing your throat before changing the topic.
The rest of the hangout went as usual, the two of you sitting on your comfortable couch and watching romance movies that were almost comedies when they got too cringy.
You didn’t notice anything different and Heeseung definitely didn’t offer up anymore surprises as big as his bleached hair but something subtly shifted after he left. It took you a few more times seeing him before you noticed he was acting different, lingering around you closer than normal and reaching out to touch the back of your arm whenever he needed to get your attention.
It was so small you barely registered he was doing it until he was back at your apartment the next weekend, coming in with his spare key like normal but instead of going over to your couch and playing on his phone, he was approaching you in the kitchen and watching you for a few seconds silently.
You raised an eyebrow in his direction when you noticed him staring, rolling up your sleeves midway on your arms before going back to cutting up the fruits you’d pulled out for a snack. “What’s up?”
He shrugged at your question and didn’t immediately answer, leaving a weird feeling of confusion in your chest when he was coming closer and touching his arm against yours from how close he was standing. It was much more difficult to ignore than his small casual touching he’d been increasing recently, a lot more intimate than tapping your knee or moving your hair out of your face.
You hurried up to finish cutting before he could do anything weirder and he still wasn’t speaking even when you were shoving the cut up fruits into a bowl and abandoning him near the counter, hurrying onto the couch and glancing back just in time to see him following behind you into the living room.
It was silent for a few more minutes as you started to flip through the explore page of Netflix and you were just starting to relax after his weird demeanor before he was fixing his position on the couch.
You tensed up when he flipped around so he was spread across the expanse of it, moving his body so his head was resting on your thigh and his arm was dangling off the sofa, fingers grazing the carpet gently as he turned to look up at you. “Can you touch my hair again?”
“What?” It slipped from your mouth faster than you even processed his question and he tensed a bit at the harshness of your tone, almost sounding disgusted underneath all of your shock. You felt a wave of guilt for accidentally being rude, taken completely off guard by his request and the fact he was casually laying on you like it was something the two of you did all the time. You relaxed your shoulders to try and show him you weren’t upset and just confused.
“It felt kind of nice when you touched it the other day… I don’t know you don’t have to never mind, forget it.” He was avoiding looking at you now but not taking his head off your lap, most likely too embarrassed to sit back up and rearrange himself again after just doing it a few seconds ago.
His cheek was pressed on your thigh as he stared at the TV despite the fact you weren’t scrolling down the options anymore and there was nothing for him to be looking at. You watched the side of his face for a few moments, following down his sharp jaw and the way the nearly white hairs fell almost over his eyes.
You were sucking in a breath and touching his hair before you could think about it any longer, feeling the way he tensed underneath your sudden touch before immediately relaxing and practically melting into your lap. You started to pick a movie again despite being completely distracted by how much the two of you were touching and if he noticed you were mindlessly clicking things, he didn’t say anything about it.
“Wait… he asked you to pet him?” Sunoo was jaw dropped from where he sat on your bed, watching you rummage through your closet as you ranted to him about the weird moments with Heeseung.
You sighed and shot him a glare because of his weird wording, not responding for a few seconds and squeezing your eyes shut tight when he was letting out a small gasp of shock and scooting forward on his knees.
Three days had passed since you’d last saw your best friend and you had done everything in your power to ignore your growing confusion about the situation, including not telling anybody about it or worsening the situation by getting a second opinion. That only lasted until you opened your front door to see Sunoo’s smiling face, immediately bursting out into confession and asking him for help.
“Okay not to freak you out but this is totally weird.” He was shaking his head now and watching you intensely, opening your eyes to see his equally perplexed expression. “I don’t know if I’ve ever even seen you guys high five before and how he’s practically a dog on your lap?”
“Can you cut that out?” You aggressively threw a shirt in his direction with furrowed eyebrows after his second rude joke slipped from his mouth. He caught the piece of clothing and raised his hands in surrender but you could tell he wasn’t sorry judging by the mischievous look on his face.
You didn’t say anything after that and you felt a deep disappointment in your chest considering Sunoo had left you feeling even more confused about the situation, confirming the fact that it was definitely strange and out of the ordinary.
It didn’t help that the two of you weren’t just looking through your clothes for fun but you were picking out outfits for a small party at a mutual friends house, a party that Heeseung would definitely be attending and looking for you at considering he’d been texting you all afternoon to check in and make sure you were still planning on being there.
Sunoo did his best to lighten the mood but dolling you up and being overly nice the entire way out of your apartment, taking selfies with you in the back of the Uber and purposely avoiding mentioning anything about your best friend.
He was following close behind you once you actually entered the party, feeling slightly anxious considering it was a bigger turn out than what you had been promised over text by the two boys throwing it. You let out a small sigh and scanned through the crowd, habitually looking for Heeseung even though you were still overthinking everything.
It didn’t take you long to find him considering he was one of the taller people there, laughing near the kitchen with some of your friends but you watched as he continuously spared looks towards the doorway like he was waiting for something. A weird warmth washed over you knowing that it was you he was looking for like always, missing you when you’d entered just a few minutes ago.
You tried to ignore the fact that it was completely normal for the two of you to instinctively find each other so there was no reason for the butterflies in your stomach at his attentiveness. Nothing had changed despite the addition of the small touches and you weren’t going to unbury any old feelings for him just because he was acting a bit clingier than usual.
Still, you made your way over to him swiftly, at some point losing Sunoo in the crowd. You weren’t too concerned considering he was the more social out of the two of you, grateful he had at least stuck with you long enough for you to find Heeseung.
You were approaching him and the other boys and they noticed you before he did, smiles on their faces as they started to greet you casually. This caught Heeseung’s attention and he was spinning around quickly to see you, eyes widened in relief and yours opened similarly in surprise when he hands were falling down onto your waist and squeezing softly.
“There you are, I was getting worried.” His words were casual and he didn’t seem to realize the fact you were completely frozen under his touch.
Sunoo had chosen an outfit that left your waist completely bare and although you were growing use to his simple and fleeting touches, you definitely weren’t prepared to feel his warm hands completely covering the expanse of your bare skin. He either didn’t think it was a big deal or he was doing a very good job at pretending, pulling you closer to him so you were standing in front and he was still holding onto you.
You could feel his chest rumbling against your back as he continued to talk with your friends, thumbs absentmindedly stroking your bare sides and squeezing occasionally whenever you slightly shifted.
You were starting to feel slightly crazy and dramatic, like you were the only one making a big deal out of nothing and overthinking stuff that had no meaning behind it. It wasn’t until you were meeting eyes with one of your friends Jake that you considered the opposite, seeing the way he was looking at curiously before his eyes were dropping down to the big hands holding onto you borderline possessively.
He met your gaze again before quirking up an eyebrow in question, eyes creasing into a small chuckle when you were shrugging and giving him a bewildered look to showcase you also thought it was strange.
Heeseung must have noticed the silent exchange because he was faltering in his words for a second before tugging you back tighter against his chest, clearing his throat over the surprised sound you let out at the sudden jerking movement.
You froze for a few seconds before you were taking a step or two out of his embrace. “I need to go to the bathroom really quick.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” He was rushing it out before he even seemed to realize he was saying it and the rest of the group paused awkwardly at the random offer, completely out of character for him.
You froze with them before quickly gathering yourself and shaking your head in denial, starting to stutter out a reason before giving up and turning around so you could rush away from the awkward situation.
Thankfully the bathroom down the hallway wasn’t occupied and you quickly entered it and locked the door, placing your hands on the cold countertop and taking deep breaths to try and calm your nerves down. You’d already been overthinking the situation and having it confirmed that it wasn’t just you noticing things were changing was positively freaking you out, wondering if he had somehow found out about your feelings for him.
You were glancing up at yourself in the mirror and sighing at the stressed out look on your face, splashing some cold water on your cheeks to bring you back to your senses before you were fixing your hair and opening the door.
You were stopped in your tracks considering somebody was standing directly outside of it, peering down at you with a slightly surprised expression because of the speed in which you swung the door open. He was taking a step back with a small smirk when he steadied himself, letting you pass but not making any moves to head into the bathroom himself.
“Is there a reason you followed me over here Jake or were you just creepily standing outside the door.” Your tone was exhausted when you turned back to look at him and he didn’t seem at all shocked that you spoke to him rather than walking away.
“Just wondering what’s going on with you and Heeseung.” He was shrugging casually but he had a mischievous look in his eyes that you didn’t really trust.
Being friends with Jake was fun and casual, he showed up to events and made them louder and looser but he’d also been there for you countless times when you needed help and weren’t sure who to call, not wanting to constantly bother Heeseung with your problems. Jake was particularly useful when your problems were about Heeseung, letting you drunkenly rant a handful of times about your past feelings for him.
But that didn’t make it any less annoying that he was clearly trying to meddle with the situation, whatever it was. You sighed and took a few steps in his direction, pointing a finger onto his chest and giving him your best attempt at a glare.
“Don’t say anything to him about it, whatever it is will pass and we will all forget about it.” You were trying to sound stern and intimidating but he was still looking down at you with slight amusement, eyes dropping down to your finger on his chest for a second before meeting your eyes again.
“If I told you that I knew, would you want to know?” He was saying suddenly with a raised eyebrow and you froze in place.
“Are you implying that you know why Heeseung is acting so weird towards me?” Your eyes turned down into a glare but he didn’t seem at all intimidated by the threatening tone you’d taken on, smiling down at you and shrugging again like he wasn’t holding crucial information to the most important friendship in your life.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” He was clearly teasing you and your frustration grew, making a small angry noise and pushing your palm against his chest instead of just the tip of your finger. “Okay okay fine. All I can say is maybe think about something you did that might have made him realize he-“
Your eyes were widening as you listened to him intensely, nodding to try and encourage him to continue once he slowly trailed off in his sentence. You weren’t sure why he stopped talking until you heard a throat clearing from the end of the hallway, turning your head swiftly to see Heeseung standing there and looking at the two of you.
He had a strange expression on his face, one you weren’t quite used to seeing and it took you a few seconds to realize it was anger. He rarely ever was angry, especially around you and you were completely thrown off by the dark way he was looking at you.
Jake seemed to understand the reason for it faster than you and he shifted back awkwardly, getting impossibly closer to the wall. He couldn’t really move away from you much but the slight movement was enough for you to realize what a compromise position the two of you looked like you were in. Your hand was still on his chest from your anger earlier and you were unusually close to him, staring up at him encouragingly.
Your mouth was parting to try and explain that it wasn’t what it looked like but there was no point considering Heeseung was shaking his head and turning to leave, the flashing lights of the party in the living room behind him illuminated his face just enough for you to see the upset clenching of his jaw.
You didn’t bother saying goodbye to Jake, following after your friend quickly even when he was pushing through the crowd and heading back outside.
By the time you managed to get out there he was stuffing his phone into his pocket and standing on the sidewalk near the road, shiny now from the rain that had fallen during the party. He was crossing his arms and you frowned slightly at how cold and annoyed he looked before you were taking a small breath and approaching him.
“Did you get a ride?” You asked him softly and he didn’t seem at all startled by the sound of your voice, barely sparing you a glance out of the side of his eye before giving a curt nod.
You mirrored the movement of his head in understanding awkwardly but you had a small pit in your stomach considering he wasn’t even looking at you, obviously upset about something you didn’t quite understand. It was rare you and Heeseung fought and even more rare that he was genuinely mad at you and not just bickering about something stupid.
He was keeping up his stony demeanor even when you sniffled slightly from the cold and rubbed your hands on your bare arms to try and warm them up a bit.
Eventually you were wobbling sideways while trying to adjust your standing position and you leaned onto him slightly for support, your skin brushing his for a few seconds before you were quickly standing upright and mumbling an apology into the tensed silence. He didn’t say anything still but you spared him another glance and tensed up seeing he was staring at you now, a weird expression on his face.
You were thinking about asking him if he was feeling okay until he was reaching over and touching your arm softly, ignoring the small surprised noise you made and tugging you over so you were stood in front of him again, the same position he had put you in back in the kitchen.
“What are you…” You trailed off when he was caging his arms around you and rubbing softly on your bare skin like you had been a few moments ago, warming you up immediately but also pressing you entirely against him.
Your next few breaths came out shaky and if he noticed he didn’t say anything, standing there like that with you held against him until the car was pulling up. He held the door open for you and scooted inside next to you until his thigh was pressed against yours, taking up the middle seat despite having plenty of room to sit on his own.
A guilty feeling was eating at you again for being so hyper aware of everything he was doing lately. Maybe he had always been this touchy and you just didn’t notice it because you were so preoccupied with denying your feelings for him and keeping your friendship as a priority.
You were watching the side of his face and thinking about this when you started to change your mind. He wasn’t exactly acting normal either despite being the one to start casually touching you.
Heeseung was avoiding looking at you most the time, almost like he knew you’d be giving him that confused stare you’d carried consistently the last few days. It didn’t help that your friend group had also seemed completely thrown off by the way he was acting and that wasn’t nearly as intimate as the way he treated you when you were alone together. He cleared his throat and snapped you out of your daze, diverting your eyes off of him and opting to stare out the front window instead.
You hoped your face didn’t flush too noticeably when he started to stare at you instead, feeling his gaze just as prominent as his leg pressed against yours.
——
It wasn’t unusual for Heeseung to follow you out of the Uber, it wasn’t out of place for him to be standing behind you silently while you nervously dug your keys out of your bag and unlocked your front door.
All these typical things were only unnerving you because of the new added factor, the heavy tension sitting between the two of you now. You glanced behind you right before you turned the doorknob and met eyes with him for a few seconds, knowing he felt it too for sure now and having no more doubts about if he was purposefully acting different.
You pushed the door open and kicked off your shoes, the two of you going about your usual routine of changing into more comfortable clothes, him having his own section in your closest and drawer in your dresser. It was the same as always except for the thick silence, replacing the usual laughter and banter that filled the rooms.
You took a deep breath before leaving your room in shorts and one of Heeseung’s shirts now, pausing in the doorway when he left the bathroom across the hall at the exact same time.
“So-“
“Are you-“
The two of you froze up when you started to speak together. You gave him a small awkward smile before gesturing your hand in his direction to indicate you wanted him to go first, hugging your arms across your stomach when he nodded to try and calm down your nerves.
“Are you and Jake a thing now?” He was asking in a flat tone but you could tell he was still upset from the party, avoiding looking at you directly and clenching his jaw again.
“You’re seriously asking me that right now?” A disbelieving laugh slipped from your mouth at the end of the sentence and this seemed to frustrate him even more, looking at you finally with heat behind his eyes. You shook your head and touched your mouth softly in shock, realizing he genuinely thought that’s what he had seen.
You turned around to go back into your bedroom, assuming he’d follow even though you were clearly thrown off by what he was saying.
He did exactly that and he stood near your desk when you sat down on the bed carefully, watching you and waiting for you to offer an explanation. You didn’t like how intimidating he looked, something you’d never thought about him before, and you slightly felt like you were being interrogated even though he was the one being weird.
“Of course I’m not dating Jake.” You really stressed the words to make him understand but he gave you a disbelieving look, causing a scoff to be pulled from your lips. “I was only in the hallway with him because he was wondering why you were acting so weird.”
It slipped out before you even realized you were saying it and he tensed up at the same time you paused. His eyebrow quirked up in question and you stared at him in embarrassment, knowing you’d have no choice to explain what you had been noticing.
“How am I acting weird?” He proved you right by asking you that but his tone was stiff and it sounded like he already knew the answer without you even needing to say it.
“I don’t know you’re just…. you’re just being different.” You were playing with your hands anxiously and trying to avoid looking at him.
It didn’t help that he was still standing over you and seemed completely thrown off and distant now that you’d brought attention to his behavior. He must have figured you didn’t notice and he was getting away with it, letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head softly.
You stared at him now despite feeling overly awkward, watching the way his movement caused his bright bleached hair to fall into his face and cover his eyes again. Your mouth pulled into a frown softly and you were standing up before he had time to process it, reaching over and pushing his hair back with your hand.
He didn’t say anything as you touched him gently, revealing his forehead again and making sure he didn’t poke himself in the eyes with the ends of his hair.
It was making the situation ten times more confusing for the both of you but you’d already crossed those invisible boundaries multiple times already and you were sick of how high the frustrated tension was, figuring you might as well take this opportunity to be close to him in ways you hadn’t gotten a chance to before.
“I don’t want to fight with you.” He was whispering and your eyes fell from his hair down to hold his gaze, seeing how his hardened expression had practically melted into one of guilt and regret. “It makes me feel terrible, I hate it so much.”
“Then let’s not fight.” You mumbled back to him, keeping your volume low in the delicate air. Your hand was still touching his hair and you softly put some of the longer pieces behind his ear, letting it drop afterwards to land on his shoulder for a few seconds. You gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze before you were stepping away from him again in preparation to sit back on the bed.
His body automatically followed yours like you had a magnet connected to you, taking a step forward to match the one you took back. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, just naturally trying to keep close to you.
You watched him for a few beats to see if he was going to back away and apologize, realize that he was acting strange considering you’d just had a conversation about it. Strangely, he seemed completely clueless to why you had paused and cocked his head to the side like he was asking for an explanation. You waited for a bit more, deciding between two ways you could handle this and eventually landing on the one that caused you to take a deep breath before speaking.
“Did you want to lay with me?” Your voice was coming out fast and strong but your stomach was almost hurting with how nervous you felt, not sure at all where the line had moved to and how far was too far.
His eyes widened at your question and for a moment he seemed to realize how close you were standing for no reason, weird enough that you were even standing in your room in the first place instead of casually lounging around your apartment.
“Like.. in your bed?” He was finally responding after what felt like ten years and you nodded before you changed your mind, shrugging bashfully after like it wasn’t a big deal to you despite the fact you felt almost dizzy at the idea of laying with him.
You took a step to the side so you could move without bumping into him and he watched as you climbed onto your bed awkwardly, scooting to the far left so the side closest to him was available and tucking yourself underneath your big blanket. He was just watching you in bewilderment and you felt a bit stupid suddenly, having just assumed he’d want to lay with you because how touchy he’d been.
“You don’t have to never mind, it’s stupid anyways.” You laughed softly at the end of your mumbled sentence but it didn’t come across as genuine at all, scooting awkwardly on your side more so you didn’t have to face him directly.
Before you were able to look away from him he was quickly snapping out of it at the sound of your retraction, shaking his head quickly and landing on the bed with his knees before you could shut him out further. You tensed as he climbed into the bed next to you and pulled the blanket up so he could get underneath, avoiding looking at your bare legs for the few seconds they were visible before he was lowering it.
The two of you laid side by side for a few minutes in silence and you were quickly regretting asking him to join you considering how awkward it was.
You could hear him breathing, heavily at first almost like he was winded and then calmer the longer you stayed like that. You’d rolled back over fully onto your back eventually and your shoulder bumped into his, settling down into a position that made it so your arms were touching.
It was hard not to wonder what he was thinking about, if he was thinking about anything. Your mind was overflowing with too much confusion but it was completely possible that he was just laying next to you because you had asked and he wasn’t putting as much meaning behind it as you did so instinctively.
Then you felt something pressing against your wrist, flinching away for a second thinking it was a bug or something before your brain registered the warmth of Heeseung’s fingers pressing against your skin softly. You lowered your arm back onto the bed and thankfully he didn’t seem to be deterred by your sudden movement, sliding his hand down your wrist until he could lace his fingers with yours.
A wave of relief washed over you suddenly, silent confirmation that this wasn’t just two friends laying in bed together.
You felt like your breath had caught in your throat and you absentmindedly squeezed his hand, a sigh of relief being heard from beside you. His thumb was rubbing over the back of your palm and you were fighting the urge to look over at him and see what his expression was like.
“You can say no but..” His voice was coming out low and your head snapped in his direction at the sound of it. He wasn’t looking at you, staring straight up at the ceiling with an almost pained expression. “Would it be weird if.. could I hold you maybe?”
His words lingered in the air and your mouth parted in shock, something he must’ve sensed considering his hand tensed in yours and immediate regret passed over his face.
You didn’t want him to pull away from you just yet so you were acting quickly before you’d fully processed what he was asking and how strange it was. You rolled back onto your side, facing completely away from him and for a second you wondered if his heart dropped thinning you were upset with him for asking you.
Then you were scooting backwards in his direction and glancing over your shoulder waiting for him to take the hint, meeting his gaze finally and watching as understanding passed through his eyes. You quickly looked away, face flushing almost uncomfortably hot and it only worsened when his arm was hesitantly draping over your waist.
He was slow at first, like he was testing to see if you’d push him off or change your mind but when he seemingly decided it was safe he got bolder.
A small surprised noise slipped out of you when he was tugging you back tighter against him, his front completely against you and you felt him tucking his head into the crook of your neck. He breathed in a low sigh of relief and tightened his arm that was around you, instinctively squeezing like he’d finally gotten a breath of fresh air.
You were thinking back to what Jake had said now for the first time since it had happen just a few hours ago, the boy hinting that you had done something that awoken a new side of your best friend.
You wrestled with the idea that Heeseung was potentially touched starved before you ran your fingers through his newly bleached hair so softly, recalling the way his eyes had widened as he absentmindedly leaned into your touched like he was mesmerized by it. It made more sense to you with every passing second now considering the way he was holding onto you so tightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away from him.
“Is it too weird?” He was muttering from behind you and you shivered at the feeling of his breath on your neck.
You were shaking your head and trying to clear your throat to respond to him but you found yourself unable to form any words, overly aware of how close you were and the fact his hand was fanned out against your side.
To make matters worse he started to move again, clearly not content with just holding you against him. His hand was shifting against you and pulling at the large tshirt you were wearing, pausing for a second when he realized it was his but not saying anything about it. At first you were confused with what he was attempting to do but he pulled it up so it was resting near your ribs, leaving your stomach exposed.
You could tell he was propping himself up slightly behind you considering his face wasn’t tucked into your neck anymore and you felt overwhelmingly shy knowing he was looking at your bare skin, his large hand tracing down the dip of your waist and watching the way goosebumps rose to the surface.
Heeseung had seen you in lots of states of undress, walking in on you changing a dozen times and seeing you in bathing suits more than you could count but it felt miles more intimate in your current situation.
You glanced behind your shoulder again at him to find him already looking at you, a look in his eyes that was too loaded for you to want to unpack it right now.
Thankfully he laid back down and shifted his position, tapping you so you could lift your body off the bed a bit and he could slide his arm underneath you. This made it so he was completely hugging you around the middle and because he had tugged your shirt up his hands were left resting on your bare stomach.
Despite the heavy touching and the way he was watching you a few seconds ago, it didn’t feel sexual at all. If anything you almost felt like you could cry from how innocent and intimate the whole situation was. You realized you’d been just as desperate to touch him despite instinctively running from him in fear of what it meant.
Or more realistically, what it didn’t mean for him.
Regardless if he felt the same way as you did, if his heart was beating out of his chest with love and longing that had been buried down deep since you’d first heard him laugh, it definitely meant something important to the both of you.
He was tucking his face back into your neck, moving your hair to the side so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and you could feel his heart beat against your back, anything but still. You placed your hands shakily over his that remained still and warm on your stomach, stroking his knuckles softly and letting yourself stop thinking just for a moment.
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yournightmary · 10 months ago
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you should write something where reader is a primary teacher, and ellie is a volunteer/fill in music teacher :D they meet and romance happens or something (i’m bad with words 😀) <3
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Play Date | E.W.
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content warning:: fem!reader, I guess dealer!Ellie but not really?, bad writing
AN:: not proofread because i’d rather shoot myself than read my own writing. I’m so sorry if it’s bad but i’ve tried my best😔 also no idea hot to tittle things
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Whoever told you that being a daycare volunteer is a good idea was wrong- on many, many levels may I add.
You always thought that kids were just cute tiny humans but that changed with your first day at the daycare in Jackson. Most of the kids were boys, there were maybe three girls total. And you never even took into consideration that fall just started, so did every kind of colds and sicknesses possible.
What’s worse than a snotty, nasty seven year old boy tugging on your shirt with his grimy hands? A whole room of them. You only took this job because Maria asked you to. She said something about you ‘wasting your potential by going on patrols’. And by potential she meant the fact that you can read, write and do basic math… sometimes.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
You pushed the door of the daycare building open, furrowing your brows softly at the scratchy sound they’d made. It was almost winter, thankfully. Maria said you wouldn’t have to work once the snow falls, something about patrols not going out as often in bad weather. You shrugged off your jacket, hanging it on the wooden coat rack.
Before you could do anything else you’ve heard a knock on the door, immediately rolling your eyes in annoyance. You took your sweet time getting to it, muttering profanities under your breath.
“Daycare isn’t open until 7:30, sorry.” You opened the door with a sigh, your tone as cold as the outside air.
“Uh- Maria asked me to help you? She said to come here after 6:00 but- I uh, overslept.” Your eyes widened slightly, seeing the girl before you.
Ellie Williams. What the actual fuck?
You stared at her in disbelief, finally noticing the guitar in her hands. She scratched her neck nervously, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.
“You gonna let me in?” You slapped yourself mentally, stepping away from the door. She walked in, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’.
Ellie placed her guitar against one of the many chairs, curiously looking around the daycare. She traced all of the drawings on the walls, wondering about the stories behind each of them.
“Why did Maria want you to help me?” You asked her after a while, sorting through all of the pencils and sharpening dull ones.
“That’s a funny story… I did something she didn’t like and this is my punishment, I guess- not that I don’t like you! I’m just… bad with kids.��� Ellie stumbled over her words a little, looking everywhere but at you.
“Well, what did you do?” You raised your eyebrow, even if she wasn’t facing your way. You sighed softly before adding. “And don’t worry- this feels like a punishment to me too… and I volunteered.”
Ellie snickered before circling around some tables and sitting down next to you, grouping all the pencils by color and placing them in their assigned little boxes.
“She found out I was dealing.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, though you could hear the nervousness in her tone. “Weed, you know? Said ‘I’m corrupting Jackson’”
“Shit, you’ve been dealing?” You unintentionally raised your voice, turning your head to look at her with furrowed brows. She raised her head slowly, nodding with an anxious expression. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? I felt bad for nagging Dina and she didn’t want to tell where she gets it from.”
Ellie’s jaw dropped as she looked at you baffled, the pencil she was holding almost falling out of her hand.
“I didn’t know you smoked, sorry.” She muttered, not expecting the way you reacted.
“I don’t look the part, huh?” You looked down at your clothes, the white collar peeking out of your beige sweater and your brown pants cuffed nicely, even if it exposed your ankles to the cold winter air.
Ellie shook her head to the sides with a chuckle, taking the opportunity and looking you up and down. After a moment in awkward silence she spoke up, fiddling with her fingers nervously.
“So why don’t you go on patrols? I mean, you’re really smart and stuff. You could be useful.” The way she said it sounded almost like an invitation, raising her brows slightly while glancing at you.
“Well, Maria said that I’m too smart for patrols. That I’ll be more useful as a teacher.” You giggled, rolling your eyes at the memory.
“That’s a shame… There’s this spot on one of the routes, you can see whole Jackson from there.” Ellie frowned softly, smacking her lips in disappointment.
You hummed in agreement, understanding what she was getting at. Maybe once winter comes Maria will let you go on a patrol with Ellie, just maybe. You placed a few sheets of paper in front of her, handing her a black pen.
“You can draw, right? Make some coloring pages, I gotta clean up before the kids come.” You said with a smile while standing up from the little table you were sitting at, not waiting for her answer.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
The kids came in earlier than usual, the room filling up an hour after you opened. After some discussing Ellie decided to take care of the arts&crafts corner, playing a song on her guitar whenever she got a request while you taught the older kids how to multiply. You couldn’t help but steal glances at Ellie, looking away quickly when her eyes meet yours.
“Miss, why are looking at Ellie like that? Do you like like her?” You hushed the girl with furrowed brows, your cheeks burning slightly.
“Keep your eyes on your paper, Maya.” You muttered, tapping your finger against the worksheet you prepared for her. Why were kids so nosy?
You glanced at Ellie only to find her already looking at you, rolling her eyes annoyed. You giggled quietly, nodding your head in agreement. You quickly made sure everyone understood their assignments and walked over to Ellie, a smile appearing on her lips once she noticed you.
“How’s it going? Any troublemakers?” You asked jokingly, looking suspiciously at every kid with a smirk. Almost every one of them shook their head, letting you know they were on their best behavior.
“They’re all good, don’t worry.” Ellie said with a smile, admiring the way you quietly praised the boy who showed you the drawing he made today.
“That’s good to hear.” You nodded your head, stepping away with Ellie to a more secluded place. “They’re usually so much worse, maybe you’re a good influence.”
“Tell that to Maria.” Ellie snickered, tucking her short hair behind her ears. She scrunched her nose, glancing at the kids a little disgusted. “One of them sneezed into his hand and then grabbed mine though, have you ever thought about teaching manners?”
“Thank you so much for that idea, I’ve never thought about that!” You said sarcastically, pointing your finger at her while nodding your head. “But seriously, I’ve tried. They just don’t care.”
You sighed in defeat, dropping your hands to your sides. Ellie hummed in acknowledgment, looking at the kids coloring the drawings she made for them earlier.
“You play beautifully, by the way.” You nodded your head awkwardly, the words leaving your mouth before you could even think about them.
Ellie blushed lightly, biting back a grin that was threading to spread across her lips. “Thanks” She muttered quietly, looking away from you sheepishly.
She opened her mouth to add something but was cut off by some kid calling your name, asking you to help them with something. You shot her an apologetic smile before getting back to your space, leaving her with a bunch of prepubescent boy that already had teasing smirks on their faces, ready to poke fun at Ellie.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
You waved goodbye to the last kid, their parent giving you a grateful smile. You closed the door with a sigh, turning around to face Ellie. She was ready to leave, guitar in one hand and the kids’ drawings she received in the other.
“Can I walk you home?” She asked quickly, looking at you with a hopeful expression. You nodded your head with a smile, putting on your jacket.
“So, how would you rate your first day here?” You locked up the daycare building, stuffing the keys into your pocket.
“Well… it wasn’t bad. I thought it would be much worse.” Ellie hummed, walking right beside you. You bumped your shoulder into hers, smirking softly.
“I gotta say- you being there made it a lot better than usual… and I’m not talking just about the help.” She looked away sheepishly, unable to stop her lips from curling into a smile.
You walked in comfortable silence, stealing sneaky glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Your hand brushed up against Ellie’s, making her gasp softly.
“Wow, you’re freezing.” She grabbed both of your hands into hers, standing in place. She rubbed her palms against the back of your hands, trying to warm you up.
“Yeah, it’s really cold today.” You giggled nervously, your cheeks heating up at her touch. She kept her grasp on one of your hands, swinging them softly between you as you walked. Smooth.
After a few minutes you finally got to your house, a little bummed out that your little trip is over. You stood before your front door, looking at Ellie shift from one foot to the other. She sighed, fiddling with her fingers nervously.
“How about I pick you up tomorrow? We could walk together.” Ellie suggested, taking a deep breath between her words. She rocked on the balls of her feet slightly, waiting for your answer impatiently.
“Okay.” You nodded your head with a grin, your hand resting on the doorknob. Ellie’s shoulders relaxed almost immediately, her own lips curling into a smile.
“Alright, cool… does 6 sound good?” You hummed in agreement, your eyes locked onto Ellie’s.
You stood there for a moment, in awkward- but not negative- silence. Ellie tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, breaking the eye contact by looking around nervously. You took your chance, standing on your tip toes and pecking Ellie’s cheek. She froze up, her eyes widening. Fuck, did you read it wrong?
“I’m sorry- I dunno why I did that.” You started apologizing, waving your hands around. Ellie grabbed both of them, shaking her head to the sides.
“It’s okay! You surprised me, that’s all.” She tried to hold back her smile but failed miserably, her ears and cheeks turning beet red. “I’ll uh- I should head back.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded your head, sighing in relief at Ellie’s words. You gave her one last smile before walking into your home, closing the door softly.
You really hope the snow won’t come soon.
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I HATE THIS SO MUCH IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT😭
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tinyshyteacup · 27 days ago
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TW: cussing, SA (off page & not described), anger, PTSD, Angst, argument.
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A/N: I do not understand this culture, heavy use of Google. If anything is offensive or incorrect please let me know so I can adjust T.S.T
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Part 15
Spare Parts - Part 16
The TV flickered in the dim room, casting blue light across the living room walls, bouncing softly off the cluttered table, the empty soda can, the half-eaten bag of chips between you two.
You were curled up on one end of the couch, knees tucked to your chest, a blanket pooled around your legs.
Coco lounged across from you, his arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, fingers tapping in time with the background music of the movie.
He’d picked some gritty 90s action flick, full of explosions and very questionable acting.
You’d tilted your head at him when he clicked Play, clearly unimpressed, but he’d just shrugged.
“What? It’s cinema, muñeca. You got no taste.”
You’d rolled your eyes, then settled in, still quietly unsure of how this whole “being close to someone” thing was supposed to feel.
But Coco? He didn’t push. He didn’t crowd you.
He just existed near you, with a cigarette tucked behind his ear, a smirk on his mouth, and his eyes drifting over to you more than the TV.
Sometimes his gaze stuck a second too long, and when you looked back, he’d just raise an eyebrow like you were the weird one.
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Coco’s phone buzzed on the table beside him. He leaned forward with a groan, his wounded shoulder moving stiffly.
“Damn, still feel like I got shot yesterday,” he muttered, grabbing the phone. “Mierda. Leticia.”
You blinked at him, from the kitchen where you'd gone to gather some ice for Coco's shoulder. “She okay?”
He didn’t answer at first, just hit Accept and held it up.
“What the hell you want, mija? You know how late it is?”
The sound of Letty’s voice crackled through the speaker—fast, slightly slurred, and way too loud.
“Chill, Pendejo, I’m just letting you know I’m crashing at Molly’s. Fuck.”
Coco leaned back again, rubbing his eyes with his good hand. “You better not be wasted, cabrona.”
“I’m not! Jeez! You always do this—”
“Yeah, yeah, blah blah, teenage rebellion, got it.” He cut her off with a grunt. “Just don’t get arrested. I ain’t bailing your ass out tonight.”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing. Coco caught it, flicked his eyes to you, then back to the phone.
“I got company, so don’t be blowing up my phone, Leticia.”
“Ohhhhh,” Letty drawled. “Company company. Like, cuddling on the couch with muñeca company?”
You could hear her slightly slurred laughter through the phone, as you returned to the couch and handed off the ice pack.
Coco instantly sat forward, the phone half-muted with his palm.
“You got damn bat ears or what?” he muttered. Then, into the phone “Hang up, pendeja.”
“Use protection!” Letty sang. Click.
Coco stared at the phone in disgust before tossing it onto the table like it offended him.
“Next time she calls, I’m changing my number.”
You were trying—failing—not to laugh. You had your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking slightly.
He glared at you. “Don’t say it.”
You blinked innocently, holding your hands up in mock-surrender “I wasn’t going to.”
"Uh huh.” He slouched back again, pulling a throw pillow under his arm and settling in like he hadn’t just been emotionally harassed by his daughter.
“Sabes qué, you better be worth the embarrassment.”
You gave him a mock-offended look, pressing a hand to your chest. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, chiquita. I could be watching this movie in peace, with no one roasting me from across town.”
"You picked this movie.” You scoffed.
“Yeah. For mood. You know—vibes. Romance. Gunfire. Explosions.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was color in your cheeks now.
Coco noticed. He always noticed.
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As the movie rolled on, he shifted slightly—closer this time. His fingers grazed your leg under the blanket, not in a way that demanded anything, just a quiet reminder he was there.
“You alright, muñeca?” he asked casually, eyes still on the TV.
You nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You always say that when you’re thinkin’ too hard.”
"Am I?”
“Mmhmm.” He looked at you now, one brow raised. “You wanna talk, or should I just keep makin’ fun of your height until you crack?”
You squinted at him. “Don't test me, I will punch you.”
“Nah, it’s adorable. You’re like... travel-sized.”
“Rude.”
“Facts,” he said, smug, stretching just enough to bump your shoulder with his. “Now shut up and watch the movie.”
You leaned toward him—just barely.
Coco smiled to himself, like you’d handed him the whole damn world.
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The movie had long since ended—credits rolling while neither of you moved. Coco’s house sat still around you, dim and comfortably cluttered, lit only by the TV glow and the faint amber light of the street lamp bleeding through the blinds.
You were still curled against his side, his arm settled loosely around your shoulders.
He smelled faintly of tobacco and faded cologne, and even when he didn’t speak, his presence filled the room.
For a while, it was quiet. He was warm beside you. Safe. Steady.
But Coco Cruz had never been just that.
He shifted beside you. Slow. Intentional.
His good hand found your jaw—gentle fingers brushing the side of your neck as he tilted your chin just slightly toward him. His eyes weren’t teasing anymore, they were low, serious in that way that made your stomach twist.
“You keep lookin’ at me like that, chiquita, I’m gonna forget you don't like touchin' an shit.”
His voice was rougher now. Lower. The kind of tone that hit like whiskey—slow and burning.
He leaned in, his thumb stroking along your cheek. You didn’t pull away… but you didn’t move forward either.
Just froze, lips parted slightly, eyes wide.
That’s when he felt it—the hesitation.
Not fear.
Not rejection.
But the kind of stillness that spoke of uncertainty.
Of old wounds still tender.
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He pulled back with a frustrated exhale through his nose, his jaw tightening as he sat back into the couch with a quiet thump. He ran a hand down his face.
“Mierda"
He didn’t look at you right away. Just stared across the room at nothing in particular.
His body had gone taut, wound up like a wire, like something in him was trying hard not to react.
“You let me kiss you, you let me hold you, you cook in my kitchen, you make my kid fuckin’ lunch—and now what?”
The sarcasm was back, sharp and fast, but the heat behind it didn’t feel cold. It felt disappointed. Not in you—but in himself, maybe.
“¿Qué pasa, muñeca? You scared I’m gonna ruin you? Too late for that, ain’t it?”
You flinched just slightly at the edge in his voice.
That’s when he really looked at you.
And all that tension in his shoulders sagged. His mouth softened.
“Nah. This shit ain’t fair.”
Something snapped behind your eyes.
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That usual softness in you—the careful, gentle quiet, quick wit he was learning to love—cracked.
Not loudly.
Not with screams.
But with something sharper.
Harder.
Something that made the space between you two sting.
"Ruin me ?" You barely whispered
You sat straighter on the couch, your back rigid, fists clenched at your sides. Coco saw it. Felt it.
"You have no fucking idea what your talking about" you spat the words like venom at him.
Although, perhaps your anger wasn't all for him, maybe it had been building for so long, you didn't remember it wasnt him you where actually angry with.
"Years, literally years of my fucking life Coco, In some fuck-arse town in a shitty fucking relationship, because I didn't know my worth, because my value was beat out of me like some lame cowering fucking dog." Your breath came in ragged pants now, chest rising and falling with the weight of unspoken anger.
"Do you have any idea what it’s like to not be able to stop someone from fucking touching you?”
The words dropped like broken glass.
There was no tearful voice.
No shaking.
Just cold, furious clarity.
And that? That made his chest go tight.
Coco didn’t move at first.
Didn’t blink.
His arms hung by his sides, jaw twitching, mouth slightly parted like he might speak—but didn’t.
His eyes, normally quick with sarcasm or suspicion, softened in a way that looked almost pained.
His brows drew together like he’d just realized he touched a wound he didn’t know was still bleeding.
“Mierda...”
The curse was quiet. Barely breathed.
“Muñeca, I didn’t mean—”
But you stood. Not quickly, but with precision. Like you needed the space between you now.
Your voice didn’t tremble.
“You think I’m scared you’ll ruin me? I’ve been ruined most my damn life, Coco. The kind of ruined you don’t come back from. The kind where your skin doesn’t feel like it belongs to you anymore, no matter how many time you try to scrub that shit off.”
Coco stayed where he was, eyes locked on you, hands slowly rising—palms open—like he was afraid you might vanish if he moved too fast.
“Okay. Okay, chiquita.” He nodded, swallowing hard. “I hear you.”
"Do you have— fuck have you spent time reading and learning psychological—fucking—trickery to convince your own mind that your safe in your house—your own goddamn bed." Your eyes weren't in the room anymore.
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Coco sat down slowly, easing onto the edge of the coffee table right in front of you—not touching, not crowding.
Just there.
Coco's body bent forward, elbows on his knees, like he was bracing himself against the weight of your words.
“You think I don’t see how careful you are? Every time I get close. Like you’re waitin’ for somethin’ bad.”
His voice was softer now.
Not sad—just raw.
“I grew up in places that break people. I broke people.” He gestured vaguely to himself, not out of pride, but matter-of-fact.
“I know what it means when someone flinches from a hand that’s meant to hold ‘em.”
He looked up at you.
Really looked.
“But you? You still brought your soft ass into my kitchen. You cooked. Cleaned. You made my damn house feel like a home for the first time in fuckin’ years. Took me outta the damn hospital and took care of my Pendejo ass, and then you still looked me in the eye like I was somethin’ worth trusting.”
Your anger started to slowly disapate, replaced by something colder.
“You don’t do that if you’re broken, chiquita. You do that if you’re strong as fuck.”
You didn’t know what to say.
He wasn’t asking for forgiveness.
He was trying to understand.
And it was the first time someone hadn’t brushed it off or tiptoed around it.
The first time someone looked at your anger, your scars and didn’t get scared or offended.
"You better be one patient motherfucker"
His hand drifted toward you—but stopped mid-air.
He looked to your eyes for permission.
"How bout baby steps, muñeca?"
You nodded slowly "real fucking small ones" you almost smirked.
41 notes · View notes
emma23 · 4 months ago
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Rules where meant to be bent :
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Steven grant x reader
If you'd like to support me, feel free to check this out 💕:
https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile
The British Museum was always quieter in the mornings, the hum of the city outside muted by the ancient walls. Steven Grant, meticulously arranging the souvenirs, hummed softly to himself. Y/N watched from a distance, leaning against a nearby shelf, the corner of her lips quirking up.
“Steven,” she called out, making him fumble with a miniature Sphinx.
“Blimey—” He turned, his face already coloring a soft pink. “You scared me, love!”
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she teased, sauntering over.
Steven straightened his tie, his nervous hands smoothing over his vest. “You say that like it’s hard for me to get flustered. I practically live there.”
“You do,” she agreed, poking his arm. “But I like that about you.”
He grinned shyly, the warmth of her words making him feel light-headed. “What are you doing here so early? I thought you hated mornings.”
“I do.” She perched on the edge of the counter. “But I figured I’d keep you company. Plus, there’s this coffee place down the road. Figured I’d bribe you into taking a break.”
Steven blinked, then narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re not supposed to bribe me. That’s cheating.”
“Is it cheating if it works?” she quipped, holding up a takeaway coffee cup with his name on it.
“Hmm, debatable,” Steven muttered, taking the cup and savoring the aroma. “Still, you’re too good to me.”
“That’s true,” she said, smirking. “But don’t get used to it.”
Their banter carried on like that for most of the morning, Y/N occasionally helping customers while Steven regaled her with random facts about Egyptian mythology. She found his enthusiasm infectious, his passion lighting up his face.
By mid-afternoon, they were in the museum's quieter archives, Y/N sitting on a desk while Steven rifled through a collection of maps and artifacts.
“Tell me again,” Y/N asked, swinging her legs lightly, “why can’t we kiss?”
Steven froze, the map he was holding slipping slightly. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “It’s, um, complicated.”
“You’re overthinking it again, aren’t you?”
“Possibly.” He glanced at her, sheepish. “It’s just... You said we needed rules, and I respect that.”
She sighed, leaning back. “I did say that. But you take rules way too seriously sometimes.”
“Rules keep things... safe,” he said, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.
“Safe is boring,” she shot back.
Steven chuckled nervously, shuffling closer. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“You love it.”
He opened his mouth to retort but stopped, his gaze lingering on her face. The air between them shifted, the room suddenly feeling smaller, more intimate.
“Steven,” she warned softly as he leaned in.
“Don’t worry, love,” he growled lowly, surprising her with the sudden change in tone.
Her breath hitched as his lips brushed the crook of her neck instead of her mouth. His hands slid to her hips, steadying her as he pressed her against the desk.
“Steven,” she gasped, trembling under his touch.
“It’s not your mouth I’m going to kiss,” he murmured, his voice rough against her ear.
Her hands gripped the edges of the desk, her pulse racing. The man who was usually so shy and cautious had melted away, replaced by someone bolder, someone who knew exactly what he wanted.
Their heated moment dissolved into laughter hours later as they lay tangled in each other’s arms, the desk a mess of scattered papers and trinkets.
“You broke your own rule,” Steven pointed out, his face flushed but smiling.
“Technically,” Y/N said, grinning wickedly, “you broke it first.”
“I suppose I did,” he admitted, laughing softly. “Guess rules really are meant to be bent.”
She swatted his chest playfully. “No more overthinking things, okay?”
“Deal,” he promised, pulling her closer.
As silence fell, Y/N broke into a wide grin. “So... who’s going to clean up this mess?”
Steven groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. “I knew you were trouble.”
“Well, at least we didn’t knock over a mummy case this time.”
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the-elemental-heros · 1 month ago
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”intro post.”
”hello hello! We are the greatest hero’s on earth and in hell! My name is mike, this is my partner, Lumi.” “Hai!” “and this is red light!” “Sup.” “If you wanna be a member I’d be happy to accept!”
PLEASE READ: if you are an ask blog that interacted with any of the members before erase those from the characters memory and history because if they don’t know who mike or Lumi is it will play into the story of these characters
(This is a rp blog for the elemental hero group and this was supposed to just be mike/phoenix and Lumi but it changed into something bit bigger)
(Drawings of each member coming soon)
Mikes powers: super strength, super speed, super hearing, black acid control, fire and lava control, can make weapons and everyday things out of black acid or lava or fire, teleportation, self-liquidation, shape shifting, can morph his body parts to form weapons, amazing with weapons combat, amazing with hand to hand combat, flight, obviously extremely durable because he’s fucking liquid, fire and lava creation and obvious manipulation, limited aura creation (he can make a firey aura around him) can make fire, lava, or black acid clones, laser eyes, obvious regeneration, he can make portals, he can self detonate creating a explosion of fire.
Lumis powers: super strength, same level as mike, super speed (slightly slower then mike), can make weapons and everyday things out of water and ice, can “fly” by spawning ice or water under her as she surfs it through the air, durability, super hearing, can talk to under water creatures, limb morphing (like mike), regeneration.
red lights powers: can change colors of lights (usually changes it to red), light manipulation, light creation, good at weaponry combat, super strength (weaker then mike), super speed (weaker then Lumi), limited aura creation (can make a red aura around her), can make light clones, impenetrable skin, infinite ammunition. Treikos powers: impenetrable skin, super strength, super agility, super reflexes, blood bending, best at weaponry combat, super adaptability, regeneration healing factor, teleportation, X-ray vision, enhanced vocal cords, super hearing, super durability.
Mikes boiling point extra powers and physical changes: can make his voice very loud, to the point of deafening, grows a pair of spider legs with 8 on each side, his powers just get buffed, grows a bit bigger going from 8’11 to 12’8ft tall, grows deploy and concealable blades under his wrist bandages that are about 10-13 inches at full length, lava spit.
random facts about mike!:
🔥: he is a LEE, death spot is his underarms. He has a very “EEK”y laugh.
🔥: He is a psychopath who loves to make people, suffer and he murders people. He is only saving people and acting like a hero because he likes being regarded as a god by some people and hero by most… most. 🔥: He died at 4 when being kidnapped and he was shot 78 times in the limbs, torso, stomach, you name it, he was only alive because they kept giving him adrenaline so he would stay alive and he died at the last headshot. 🔥: Kills because he views and thinks everyone is as bad as the 2 kidnappers who killed him, sometimes he has moments where he snaps outta that but it doesn’t last for long. 🔥: Is very rude, scary, and intimidating when angry or just being normal. 🔥: Obviously can’t die, I mean you can kill him but he will just come back after like a day. Same thing with everyone else. 🔥: Is very intelligent.. just his arrogance and confidence can cloud that at times. Speaking of confidence and arrogance he views himself as a god and looks down at normal humans like insects. 🔥: He’s very inspired by homelander, this whole thing is inspired by the boys and the seven. 🔥: is an art the clown level of brutality sometimes. 🔥: Basically a mix between homelander and the T-1000. 🔥: he is 31.
🔥: idk if I mentioned this before but his true self isn’t actually a psycho, yes he will kill murderers, arsonists, the ones doing atrocities. But he won’t seriously maim like smaller crimes like theft or stuff like that. His true self is actually a good person and caring, he is aware of his psycho side and his psycho side is aware of him. he didn’t want this killing to happen.
🔥: he has a brother only few know about. Treiko and cetchro know about this, his name is Nolan. They never told him because a few reason but the main one is because they know that if he finds out they kept this from him, they are dead.
things that can make phoenix come out:
Being tickled
being Shown affection
psycho self using powers to make him visible
Being surprised with something very odd (like a cat speaking-)
being reminded of his family
being shot (will kill you for this)
being injected with adrenaline or tranquilizers (will kill you for this)
being stabbed in the side of the head/ear (he can make body parts grow at will cuz liquid) (will kill you for this)
he can sometimes just come out on himself
random facts about Lumi!:
❄️: big lee, HUGE LEE. Most ticklish spots are belly, feet, back of knees, and neck.
❄️: even though her and red light are sweet and caring, like phoenix, they will kill criminals who have done very horrible things. And also like phoenix, they will hurt criminals who do smaller crimes like theft or stuff like that but not kill.
❄️: Is trying to make phoenix come out for good.. but Micheal is becoming more resistant by the second.
❄️: will protect people from Micheal if she can.
❄️: snuggle bug.
❄️: she is 24.
❄️: Favorite food: rotisserie chicken.
❄️: Likes being pet.
❄️: As you actually know, she cares about others greatly and is very sweet.. she is still a badass at times though.
❄️: likes to loaf from time to time. ❄️: died from being run over by a train.
(Facts about red light and treiko coming later.)
RULES:
NO NSFW! Suggestive asks are fine tho (I updated everyone’s age cuz I realized the age stuff had flaws-)
offensive jokes of any kinda are fine, racist jokes, phobe jokes, etc.
DO NOT try to fight these people if you cannot handle your characters being killed… you can just bring them back to life in a different post anyway lol.
don’t be rude to the mod, I’m fine with you taking joking shots at me but don’t be actually a asshole.
swearing is allowed, I’ll allow the word retard but don’t say a slur that you can’t reclaim (I think that’s the word).
don’t go into a fight with them and expect to win, I’ve already had one dude throw a fit about it, I don’t want it again.
This isn’t just a FPE blog it could go in really any fandom.
COOL BLOGS!:
@abbie-appleboy @engels-ask-blog @zip-the-chaos-child @girl-from-the-snowy-forest @lesbian-zipster @oliversoapeater-official @claireslibrarycard
@danger-bloomie @danger-oliverrr @danger-abbie @danger-zipster
@askmyfpeocs @ask-april-stuff-ig @official-crazie
@mister-hotchkiss-craft-teacher @best-art-teacher-miss-sasha @pansexual-music-teacher @cannibalistic-forest-monster @math-teacher-who-loves-oreos @ask-mister-barrel @ask-miller @ask-margaret-sterling
(Sorry if @s don’t work or I forgot you, did the best I could.)
Story: a corrupt super hero group with members who are regarded as hero’s and gods are under control by a powerful demon consumed by revenge, only select fews knew and know about the truth and that the leader is just putting up a facade… most ended up dead, but the ones who know and that are alive are trying to get that info out, yet, no one believes them.
(Mod talking)
“Micheal talking”
“Phoenix talking”
“Lumi talking”
“Red light talking”
“Treiko talking”
Edit: two people have already forgotten the “please read”- I’m not angry btw
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notyourjaem · 2 years ago
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— dinner plans 𖤐 choi yeonjun
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summary: you and yeonjun’s dinner plans quickly change into something else.
pairing: hotboyfriend!yeonjun x afab!reader
genre: smut (18+ readers only pls)
word count: 851
warnings: tongue kissing, making out, ass grabbing, reader is wearing a skirt, biting/marking on yeonjun’s part, head (m. receiving), sloppy blowjob, everything’s kind of messy, yj ruins readers makeup, throat fucking (kind of), and reader is kind of henced to have decent sized boobs lol.
authors note: yeonjun chose to look like this and I in return, chose violence. this isn’t really proofread because I have sick brain rn and am lazy so if you see an error, no you don’t!!
quick links: masterlist | taglist | send a request
“We don’t really have time, Junnie.” You spoke, kissing along Yeonjun’s jawline as you unbuttoned his maroon colored shirt.
“We do.” Yeonjun breathed out, the sentence punctuated by a bruising kiss. Your back was shoved against the wall of your bedroom, the sudden movement startling you.
You both were trying to get out of the house for dinner reservations, but one thing led to another, and now you were both half undressed.
His hands slipped underneath your skirt, squeezing at the backs of your thighs and towards your ass. His grip so hard, you moaned into his mouth.
That gave Yeonjun the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth; sloppily tongue kissing you, ruining your lipstick.
Pulling down the straps of your top, his lips made their way down your neck, leaving wet kisses. Feeling Yeonjun start to suck and nibble at your skin, your fingers pulled on his hair slightly; making him let out a whine.
“Jun, I cannot walk around with hickeys.” Your voice was breathier than you wanted it to be. You always preferred Yeonjun to mark you up where only you and him could see, but sometimes he had other plans.
“I won’t.” Yeonjun eased up on your neck, now only kissing softly. “But god you’re so hot. All mine.” He kissed behind your ear before biting down onto the curve of your ear, emitting a whine from you as you placed your palm onto his bare chest.
Yeonjun hiked your skirt up, bending one of your knees up against his waist. He touched your jaw with his fingertips, making you turn your face towards him before kissing you again.
As you kissed him, you moved your hand from his chest, and down to his bulge that was very prominent through his black jeans. The contact making him groan and grind his hips into your hand.
Yeonjun broke the kiss, smirking. “Hey, don’t tease me.” His lips were glossy from kissing you. “What happened to ‘we don’t have time’?”
“Hmmm.” You started undoing his belt, then his pants. “But I don’t think this will take very long.”
“Fuck.” Yeonjun swore under his breath when he realized what you were doing.
You slowly got down onto your knees in front of him; the sight of you getting Yeonjun harder by the minute.
He bit down onto his bottom lip, combing his fingers through your hair.
Once you pulled down his jeans, you leaned forward, planting a few kisses below his belly button.
Yeonjun sharply inhaled, his stomach tightening. Finally, you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down just enough to release his cock; painfully hard and leaking precum.
Yeonjun’s fingers were still in your hair as you leaned forwards, grabbing at the base of his cock with one of your hands. You let a glob of spit fall from your mouth onto the tip, and used that to stroke him a few times before sliding into your mouth. You instantly let him hit the back of your throat, earning a throaty moan from him.
“Fuck. Just like that.” Yeonjun muttered, leaning his head back, then looking back down at you.
His deep moans were going right to your core, and you shifted on the floor for any kind of friction; earning a smirk from Yeonjun.
You released him from your mouth with a pop, panting to catch your breath. You reached up to stroke him once more.
“Hang on.” Yeonjun’s voice had a sudden rasp to it, making you look up at him eagerly. He reached, pulling your strappy top down, making your boobs practically spill out. “Look so pretty for me.”
You had no doubt in your mind that your makeup was for sure ruined by now. The intricate eyeliner that you spent all that time on was now about to run down your cheeks, and your lipstick long gone.
You took the tip of his cock in your mouth again, swirling your tongue around the tip, making Yeonjun shudder from sensitivity. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in, and bobbing your head on his length. Yeonjun’s hands were in your hair again, this time he had somewhat of a grip on you, a whine spilling from his kiss swollen lips.
You felt his cock twitch, and you changed your rhythm, feeling him hit the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes were watering now, and you were sure he was bruising the back of your throat, but you didn’t stop.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Yeonjun panted, coming close to his own high.
He pulled you away from him, making you finally gag, a string of saliva going from your lips to his cock. You swallowed thickly, and it took you by surprise when he grabbed you by your throat and leaned down; sloppily tongue kissing you.
He pulled away, still close to you.
“Oh no, Jun.” You started. “Don’t we have to–“
You didn’t even get to finish your sentence.
“No.” Yeonjun used his thumb to wipe your ruined eye makeup. “I don’t care about the reservations. Go to the bedroom.”
tags: @dearlyjoonie @mhasimp666
582 notes · View notes
violettwritess · 2 months ago
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Letters I can’t send pt.2 c.s
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Part 1
Summary: After Chris got the letter, he realized that maybe staying away from each other wasn’t the best idea.
Warnings: Mental health struggles, emotional distress, crying.
Wc: 2.6k
English is not my first language
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Chris never checks the mail, usually Nick or Matt do it. But today, when he arrived at their house, he saw the mailbox full, something about it felt different, so he decided to grab it, that’s when he saw his name in a letter, it was written in an orange pen, his favorite color, big and cursive, he was curious, he knows he sometimes gets mail from fans so he just ignores it, but this time it was different.
He went inside the house and left the other mail on the table, sitting on the couch, he grabbed the letter and opened it, it was written in a really small letter and it was long, just as he read the first lines he knew exactly who it was from, y/n.
He kept reading, and a knot formed in his stomach. The more he read, the more it became clear how bad things had gotten for her.
Chris’s hands started to tremble as he neared the end of the letter, his eyes darted over the words again, as if rereading them would somehow change their meaning. His throat felt tight, and his stomach churned with something between panic and guilt.
He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he let out a shaky exhale, his first instinct was to grab his phone, fingers hovering over Y/n’s contact. But what would he even say? Hey, I just read your letter, are you okay? Of course she wasn’t okay. The letter made that painfully clear.
His leg bounced anxiously as he stared at the screen. Had she been waiting for him to respond? Checking her phone, hoping for his name to pop up? He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. How had he let it get this bad? He thought she was fine, he thought that it didn’t affect her so much, but now, now he wasn’t so sure.
Without thinking, he stood up and grabbed his keys, he needed to see her, he needed to know she was there. That she was safe.
“Where are you going?”
Nick called from the kitchen as Chris rushed toward the door, he hesitated, gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“I just- I need to check on something”
His voice was unsteady, and Nick must have noticed because his expression shifted from confusion to concern.
“Chris?”
“I’ll be back”
Chris muttered before stepping out and shutting the door behind him. He didn’t have time to explain, right now, all that mattered was getting to Y/n.
He arrived at her house and knocked on the door, trying to fix his hair as best as he could, attempting to seem calm, though inside, he was a mess.
Her mom opened the door, she was surprised to see him.
“Christopher, what are you doing here?”
Chris swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. He could see the exhaustion in her mother’s eyes, the worry settled deep into her features.
“I-” He hesitated, suddenly feeling like he had no right to be here, not after how long he’d been gone. But then he remembered the letter, the way her words had cracked something inside him. He couldn’t just walk away.
“Is Y/N home?”
Her mother’s face shifted slightly, something unreadable crossing her expression. She sighed, opening the door a little wider.
“She’s in her room. But Chris… she’s not doing well”
The weight in his chest grew heavier.
“I know” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Please… can I see her?”
She studied him for a moment before nodding, stepping aside to let him in.
“Go ahead. But be gentle with her, okay?”
Chris nodded quickly and made his way toward her room, every step making his heart pound harder, he stopped outside her door, hesitating. What if she didn’t want to see him? What if he’d already lost her in every way that mattered?
Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly.
“Y/N?”
His voice wavered slightly.
“It’s me”
Silence.
For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then, after what felt like forever, he heard soft footsteps, and the door cracked open.
And there she was.
She looked different, smaller somehow, like the weight of everything was physically pulling her down. Her eyes, once so bright, were dull and tired, dark circles framed them, and her skin was paler than he remembered.
She blinked up at him, confusion flickering across her face before it was quickly masked by something else, something guarded, distant.
“Chris?”
Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn’t spoken much in days.
Chris exhaled shakily, his heart aching at the sight of her.
“I got your letter”
Her expression didn’t change, but he saw the way her fingers curled slightly against the doorframe, like she was bracing herself.
“And?”
Chris hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, closing the distance between them. His voice was quiet but firm.
“I’m sorry”
He said, and this time, he meant it more than he ever had before.
“I should’ve been there. I should still be there.”
Her eyes searched his, like she was trying to decide if she could believe him. Chris didn’t wait for her to answer, h reached out, hesitantly at first, and pulled her into his arms. For a moment, she didn’t move. But then, slowly, he felt her relax against him, her fingers clutching onto his sweatshirt like she was afraid he’d disappear.
She let out a shaky breath against his chest, and for a moment, Chris just held her. He felt how fragile she was, how small she seemed in his arms, and the thought made his stomach twist painfully. How had he let this happen? How had he convinced himself she was okay when she so clearly wasn’t?
“I’m sorry”
He murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I didn’t know it was this bad, Y/n. I should’ve-”
He stopped himself because no excuse would be good enough. No words could fix the time he had lost, the pain she had felt alone.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, curled into his chest, her breathing uneven. Chris wasn’t sure if she was crying until he felt the dampness against his hoodie, his arms tightened around her instinctively.
“I-”
Her voice was barely a whisper, but he still heard the way it cracked.
“I didn’t think you’d come”
Chris’s chest ached. He swallowed the lump in his throat, brushing his hand over the back of her head in a soothing motion.
“Of course I came” He said, his voice thick. “I should’ve come sooner”
Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face like she was trying to make sense of him being here. Her hands were still gripping his sweatshirt, like she wasn’t ready to let go just yet.
“But you didn’t”
She said, and there was no malice in her tone, just exhaustion. Just the weight of everything she had carried alone for too long.
Chris’s breath caught in his throat. She was right. He hadn’t.
“I know”
He admitted.
“And I hate that I didn’t. I thought-”
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair.
“I thought maybe you didn’t need me anymore”
She let out a breath, something almost like a sad laugh.
“Chris, I needed you more than ever”
He closed his eyes for a second, like he couldn’t bear the truth in her words.
“I’m here now” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere this time”
Her eyes flickered with something, hesitation, hope, fear.
“What if it’s too late?”
Chris shook his head. “It’s not” he said firmly. “It’s never too late”
She stared at him for a long moment, like she was trying to decide whether or not to believe him. Then, slowly, she nodded.
“Okay” she whispered.
Chris’s heart lifted, even though a part of him knew that it was only the beginning. He’d never imagined that seeing Y/n again would feel like this, like it was both the most painful and comforting thing he could experience. He held her tighter, not letting go this time.
“I won’t let go again, Y/n”
He promised softly, his voice full of sincerity.
“I know I hurt you, but I’m here now, and I’m not leaving”
Y/N didn’t answer right away, and Chris didn’t push. Instead, he simply held her, allowing the silence to stretch, knowing they both needed this moment. He wasn’t sure what came next, he wasn’t sure how they would navigate the years that had passed, or if they could ever go back to what they once were. But in that moment, all he wanted was to be there for her, to give her the space to heal, and to prove that he still cared.
Y/n’s breath evened out, her body relaxing more in his arms as she absorbed the weight of his words. For a long time, she hadn’t allowed herself to hope for this, hadn’t dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But now, as she stood there in his embrace, the broken pieces inside her started to feel just a little bit less shattered.
“I’m not going to leave you alone, not now, not ever”
She pulled back slightly, her face still close to his, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation. There was none. There was only determination, a quiet understanding that spoke louder than any words could. For a moment, it almost felt like they were the same people they had been before, before everything got complicated.
But Y/n knew they weren’t. They couldn’t be. Time had passed. Things had changed. And yet, as she looked at Chris, she felt a glimmer of something, a faint pulse of trust that hadn’t completely died.
“You really mean that?” she whispered, the vulnerability in her voice matching the uncertainty she still carried.
Chris nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.
“More than anything. I can’t change the past, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere”
Y/N took a shaky breath, the weight of it all settling into her chest. It felt like a beginning, but it also felt like a second chance, something she hadn’t dared to believe in for so long. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, she knew that. It couldn’t be, not with everything that had happened. But for the first time in a while, she felt a tiny spark of hope. A hope that maybe they could rebuild, piece by piece.
She nodded slowly, still holding onto him as if afraid to let go.
“Okay” she whispered again, her voice soft but steady. “I’ll try, I’ll try to believe you”
Chris smiled, a real, genuine smile, the kind that reached his eyes and made him look more like the Chris she had once known. He kissed the top of her head gently.
“That’s all I can ask for,” he said.
They sat together in silence, the weight of everything they hadn’t said hanging between them. Outside, the quiet night stretched on, the stars offering a kind of solace in their stillness. But inside, Y/n felt the tremors of uncertainty in her chest, the kind that had never fully gone away, no matter how much time had passed.
Y/n’s eyes drifted to the window, and she spoke softly, almost to herself.
“I remember when we used to talk about the stars”
She said, her voice distant, as though she was speaking from another time.
“You always said they were like little lights, guiding us home. I used to believe that”
Her words were a quiet confession, wrapped in a kind of sadness she didn’t quite know how to explain.
Chris’s grip on her hand tightened just a fraction.
“I meant it” he said, his voice steady but gentle. “I still do. We can find our way back, even if it’s not exactly the way it was before, I know I messed up, I know it’s not going to be easy, but I want to try. I want us to try.”
Y/n let out a shaky breath, the ache in her chest only growing as she let the weight of his words settle on her.
“Some nights, I feel like I’m drowning in everything we lost”
She whispered, her voice trembling slightly. Chris’s heart ached at the rawness in her voice. He had always known how much Y/n carried inside her, the weight of things left unsaid and undone. It hurt him more now than he had ever imagined. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles, grounding her as best as he could.
“I know” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I took so much from you. I can’t change that, but I can promise you I won’t take any more. I’m here, Y/n, for as long as you’ll let me be.”
Chris’s gaze softened as he searched her eyes, as if trying to read the layers of her pain, to understand the depth of what she was carrying. The silence between them was thick, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid, but also filled with the possibility of something more. He took a deep breath, his voice steady but full of sincerity.
“I know it’s not going to be easy”
He said quietly, his thumb continuing to trace small circles on her hand, offering the only comfort he could.
“But I’m not going anywhere, I’ll help you get better, Y/n. One step at a time, we’ll do it together, and I won’t let you face it alone. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, I’m here for you. All of me. Every part of me.”
Y/n felt the weight of his words settle in her chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of healing. Slowly, she nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and caution, it would take time. There would be moments of doubt and pain. But maybe, just maybe, they could rebuild, piece by piece.
Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she took in the quiet promise in his words, the weight of it all settling into her heart. She could feel the sincerity in his touch, the warmth of his presence grounding her in a way she hadn’t known she needed. The world outside, with all its chaos and uncertainty, seemed to fade away as she allowed herself to lean into him just a little more.
She looks up at him, her eyes a bit teary
“I’m scared”
Chris didn’t hesitate. He cupped her face gently in his hands, lifting her chin so their eyes met once more.
“I know. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to not have all the answers right now, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’ll take it slow, Y/n, no pressure, no rush. Just one step at a time”
A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she let it fall, allowing herself the release she’d been holding back for so long, Chris gently wiped it away, his thumb brushing her skin with care.
“We’re in this together”
He said softly, his voice a steady anchor. Y/n gave a shaky smile, her heart feeling a little lighter. It wasn’t a promise of immediate healing, but it was a promise to try, and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.
“I trust you” she whispered again, a quiet acceptance in her voice. “And I’ll try. One step at a time.”
Chris pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her close, knowing the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but he was ready, as long as she was. And that, in itself, was a beginning.
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doodlemcjazzhands · 1 year ago
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do you have any tips on drawing backgrounds. I struggle with them so much and can’t always make them cohesive with the drawing yk
Oh man, yeah. I do indeed know, all too well U_U Backgrounds are a STRUGGLE
Here are some things I’ve picked up, that have helped make them a little less difficult (feel free to take what you think might be helpful and then scrap the rest!):
1. Map out your Composition, Tones and Colors in a Rough Thumbnail
-I think the main thing that helps me, is planning. If you’re gonna do a background, don’t think of it as an after thought. I find it’s helpful to plan out the background at the same time you’re planning the character pose, rather that just slapping in a background, once the character is already finished. It’s like a little dance, making the environment work to accommodate the character while simultaneously making the character work to accommodate the BG.
-I usually do a small thumbnail and color key before I actually go into the drawing itself
-I like to think of the thumbnail like a little roadmap that I can always refer back to when I’m stuck. It's something that is easy to experiment with and will help me keep the big picture in mind, while working, rather than fussing over all of the small details.
-you can plan how you might want to use light and other elements of the bg to frame important things, or point and lead your eye to the focal point, or divide up the frame.
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When I’m working on the actual drawing, I’ll always keep my thumbnail visible off in the corner of my workspace, just as a reminder of where I want to go with the piece, and to keep it available to color pick from, when I want to.
2. Try Sticking to 1 or 2 Dominant Colors and try not to stray too far, unless it’s an intentional accent
I usually choose 1-2 main colors and then paint bucket fill the canvas with those colors as a base, before I even start on the "cleaned up" linework. Then when I start painting, for real, I choose my colors based off how warm or cold they are, compared to the main color(s).
So say, for example, I want the dominating color of the illustration to be red, if I’m coloring an apple (that is naturally red) I would keep it the same hue, but might change the tone or saturation. However, if I’m painting a carrot (that would naturally be orange) I might just shift the hue to be a warmer red, rather than a full blown orange. Conversely, if I wanted to paint a naturally blue sky, I would shift the hue from red to be a bit colder, maybe more of a purple, but not necessarily a true blue.
*sometimes the saturation can mess around with a perceived color as well, (like how a desaturated yellow, will often look green), so I find there’s a lot of trial and error and messing around to be done with color, which I guess is half of the fun :P
(obviously this isn’t the only way to approach color, but I find it helpful for reigning myself in and keeping things a little more cohesive)
3. Add Depth
-Think of your environment as a 3D space with overlapping elements. Consider what your foreground, midground and background elements might be, to give depth to the drawing.
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The further away something is, the less details the human eye can make out, and atmosphere will create a sort of hazy look to things that are set far away. So to mimic this effect for things that you want to recede into the distance, you can use less saturated colors, less contrast, do less detail, less line work (maybe even go lineless) and use slightly cooler colors. Maybe even add a little gaussian blur if it looks good. Conversely, for things you want push forward, just do the opposite (higher contrast, higher saturation, heavier line, more detail ect.)
4a. Study and Play with Lighting
I think lighting can be a big factor in helping make a character feel like they fit and belong in their environment. Study how light works and interacts with the world and think about how it might effect every element of your environment. How does it break apart when it’s going through something translucent? Is it going to cast harsh or soft shadows? Are there multiple light sources? Are they different colors? different intensities? Is the light source visible or not? Is it a controlled beam of light, like a laser, or more open, like the sun?
4b. Make use of Reflected Light and Color
So, when light hits an object, that is near another object, some of it’s color can be reflected onto the nearby object, if the angle is right. So for reflected light, I usually add a clipping mask layer to the affected object and add a gradient coming from the first object, using a color that has be color picked from the first object. Then I’ll turn down the opacity to my liking.
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^(Ok, this first example of reflected light is super subtle on Sirius’s jacket, but it’s a little clearer to see the reflected light from the tub reflecting onto Sirius’s face and Remus’s arms, in the second example)
5. Add a Little Bit of *Spice*
If by the end of my coloring, I still want to do some tweaking, these are my general go to’s:
-Edit with filters and/or gradients. If you’re working digitally, play around with blending modes. You can make a new layer, fill it with a color or a gradient, then see what different blending modes and levels of opacities will do to it.
-Color your lines so that the black isn’t so harsh against the other colors in the scene. Sometimes I like to go completely lineless in some areas, if it's an area blown out by light, or is maybe pulling your attention away from the focal point
-You could add a little bit of grain and noise (to do this in photoshop, make a new layer, fill it with a grey colour (or experiment with other colours) then go to filter>noise>add noise>ok and turndown the fill and maybe change the blending mode)
-Adjust the levels, if you’re still not fully satisfied with the contrast, you can adjust the levels (ctrl +L in photoshop)
-Adjust the Color balance if you're not fully satisfied with the saturation and colors (ctrl+ B in photoshop)  
Ok, gosh, there’s so much, but I think I’ve rambled on long enough… hope this helps and wasn't too obvious or convoluted!
Good luck!!
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wheels-of-despair · 1 month ago
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A Little Color Pairing: Billy Knight x You Summary: You find an interesting way to brighten Billy's day. Contains: Cleaning, weather-related gloom, fluff, and lots of kisses. Words: 1k
Youths and ageless blogs who interact with this fic will be blocked.
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"What're you doing?"
You look up to find a curious Billy standing just outside the bathroom.
"Cleaning," you answer, holding up a cardboard box full of junk to show him. "I don't use half of this stuff, it's just taking up space."
He tilts his head slightly, trying to peer into your box, so you hand it to him. He takes a step closer to accept it, then leans against the doorframe. Billy gently rifles through a pile of beauty products you'd bought on sale and used once or twice before tossing them in a drawer. You watch his face for any spark of fondness; if there's anything in there he likes, you're keeping it.
His fingers linger on a tube of lipstick that turned out to be way brighter than you'd bargained for. Did he like that on you?
"You like that?" you ask softly.
Billy shrugs, drops the lipstick, and hands the box back to you. He kisses your temple and leaves the room to go on about his day.
You pluck the lipstick out of the get-rid-of-it box, drop it back in the drawer it came out of, then move on to the next.
About a week later, you got a chance to use it.
Billy woke up in one of his moods and didn't want to get out of bed. You blame the weather. Sometimes, the grey and the gloom are so overwhelming, Billy starts to feel like he'll never see sunshine again.
You spoon him from behind under the heavy blankets, arm wrapped tightly around your boy's torso. Your cheek rests against his back, with only a thin layer of cotton between you. You can tell from the occasional shuddering breath that he's trying not to cry.
"M'sorry," he sniffles after an accidental sob. "Sorry I'm like this."
"It's not your fault, baby," you whisper into his back, holding him a little tighter. "It's just the weather. Things aren't really this bleak. We just need a little sunshine. A little color."
The lightbulb above your head clicks on.
"I need to run to the bathroom for a minute. You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," he sniffles.
You kiss between his shoulder blades, give his cold hand a squeeze, and whisper a quick "love you" before hurrying toward the bathroom.
You return with the tube of too-bright lipstick in the pocket of your pajama pants. Instead of reclaiming your place in bed behind Billy, you crawl on top of him, trapping him beneath the blankets from the waist down by straddling him over the covers.
"What're you doing?" he asks, twisting to look up at you curiously.
"We just need a little color," you repeat, pulling out the tube and carefully applying it to your lips. His brow furrows. You lean down to kiss his cheek. And the other. And his jaw. And that spot on his neck that makes him melt. You sit up to watch him for a moment. He stares at you with his teary eyes, and slowly, a little smile begins to form on his beautiful face.
"I think you could use a little more."
Billy nods in agreement, and his smile widens. He shifts beneath you to lie on his back, so he can watch you leave your love marks on him.
You lean back down and slowly kiss his forehead, and the tip of his nose, and his chin. Your hands rub from his shoulders, down his arms, to his hands. You lift each to place a kiss to his wrists, his palms, his fingertips. You reach for the hem of the shirt he slept in, and your fingers slide beneath the fabric and make contact with his soft belly. He's much warmer than he was when you left him.
"Can I take this off?" you ask quietly. Billy nods and half-sits up to help you remove his shirt, clearing a path for a lot more color.
You reapply your lipstick before you get started, and cover Billy's chest with brightly colored kisses. By the time you reach his belly, it's shaking with giggles. You can see a change in the shape of your kisses as you travel down his torso; full sets of lips become smaller and smaller as you smiled more and more at the thought of Billy's dark clouds lifting.
You move down Billy's body as you go, throwing the blankets aside to be closer to him. He doesn't need them for warmth anymore; he's flushed all over. You're straddling his legs when you get to his happy trail. Alternating sides, you kiss your way down that gorgeous line of hair… until you feel something hard pressing between your breasts.
You look up at him, and his blush goes a shade deeper. He smiles that adorable little embarrassed smile that makes your heart flutter.
You trace a finger over the edge of his waistband.
"You want me to keep going?"
Billy nods, and you pull the elastic down just enough to plant a few new kisses on the unmarked skin. His breath catches, and you can feel him twitch against your chest.
You hook a finger into each side of his waistband, and give a light tug downward. He lifts his hips. You move off of him and to the side, and slide his sweats and underwear down his legs and over his feet, throwing them over your shoulder and out of sight.
You position yourself between his bare thighs and sit up tall to apply a fresh coat of lipstick. His cock twitches and drips. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. He bites his lip and grasps the sheets on either side of him in anticipation.
"Good thing I decided not to let this go to waste, huh?" you tease, pocketing the tube again.
Billy smiles, wide and happy and genuine, and it's the most beautiful thing you've seen in days.
But his lipstick-stained cock is a close second.
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vicsbasement · 1 year ago
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I think something shifted in the Charlos dynamic last year. I think once they hit the 3 year mark, their relationship changed and became even deeper. Then it changed again once everyone found out that Carlos would not be driving for Ferrari after 2024. I think they are in a period of the “unknown.” Nothing is certain for them, how their relationship will change or where Carlos is going to go. They are just going day by day spending time together essentially waiting for the inevitable: Carlos’ departure.
You know how they say that sometimes stress puts people in fight or flight mode? Well, I think that in this case, it's kind of two sides of the same coin for Carlos' situation.
Carlos, right now, in his career, is on fight or flight mode, 100%. Not only was he working himself to the bone during the break to be in the best shape possible, but he's also just extremely focused on the year ahead, on showing his best colors, the most discipline and the biggest and best show of his abilities there is.
And yet- he's also laser-focused on not hurting the relationships he worked on in Ferrari. I mean, connections are everything, right, remaining in good terms with the team is crucial for his future because nobody would hire a guy who was difficult to work with, right? Especially now that he worked with the biggest and most important team in F1 history and they have nothing but praise to throw his way. But there's also Charles. Charles is his companion, his equal. He's got a lot of respect for him. They've shared a lot of moments, good and bad, and right now, well. The good moments outweight the bad ones because as of next year, the domestic things they used to do together, it will be taken away. They won't be able to share whispers between debriefs or little knowing glances across their seats whenever someone makes a mistake, or sneak behind their trainer's back to eat a cake that isn't in their diet.
They've always been nice to each other but I'm guessing that during this last year, their companionship shifted slightly towards something akin to friendship. And Charles is being massively supportive because even though he's got a seat and he knows that he's going to be fine, in theory, he's also confronting an uncertain future. With Lewis coming to the team and Fred doing all these moves it's like-- well. You know how Charles could be feeling? As if all of these moves and fanfare are not really for him, they're for Lewis. So he could be feeling a little cheated, a little like he's being relegated to second place in his own home so they can bond a little over that feeling, too. Because I would bet Carlos would come to Charles with these thoughts whenever he'd feel like that. Or I would like to think so, too.
So Charles is making it easier for him, too. And you know why I'm so sure about this? Because Charles himself just said something along the lines of "he's got a lot of doors open for him" because he believes in Carlos because he knows, first hand, how hard of a worker Carlos is, how good of a teammate he is, how passionate.
It is sad, yeah, but they're making it easier for each other. They're trying to be gentle towards each other and enjoy their time together as teammates, first and foremost. And I'd bet that at this point Carlos is kind of focused and waiting for the time in which he's able to say that their relationship got even closer, as he's said before, because he knows that being rivals inside the same team is complicated for their relationship and can make it sour, at times.
aaaanyway, I went off the rails again with my headcanons but thank you always for sending me these, anoooon. I have so much fun thinking these thoughts.
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dvzaiosamu · 1 year ago
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The dulcet taste of your lips — osamu dazai.
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Hello :3 I was bored, so I decided to make this oneshot about Dazai (yes, again... Ik I'm obsessed over him sometimes). I hope you all are doing good. Take good care of yourself, drink water, don't forget to eat!
The theme for today's oneshot is: A sticky (too sweet) morning after having a tough day at work yesterday. Slight angst at first, slight fluff and then slight nsfw scenes at the end.
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The night before, Yokohama, Japan.
The night illuminates your room that you share with Dazai, a soft light that helps you see the big moon in the sky, everything generated a melancholic feeling in you. The memories of all those times, your dark age where the light of the moon meant you had to go out and kill on orders from your superiors. The cold colors of the night are variants of many shades of colors that appear on your tired face.
You were sitting in front of the large window that gave way to views of the city. You observed the moon and the surroundings, although you did not really understand why, it is as if you had settled into an infinite trance that repeats itself every time you open yourself and begin to unconsciously read the pages of your past, which torments you like a terminal cancer, stabilized in your brain; This has made your perception of the world mostly negative, but now you were alone, Dazai had not yet returned from work, you understood that he had a night shift, it would probably not take more than an hour for him to appear with his charismatic smiles to hug you tenderly.
What a nightmare it was to be alone. It's not because it scared you, it wasn't for any reason that it provoked an inner fear in you, an intense dread, no, it wasn't like that. It was a nightmare because all the time you had thoughts running through your head, regretting that there were once people who, after your feline agility, scratched them, but not with nails, but with a sharp katana that you no longer have because you had just passed page. Although you are no longer the same, the past is still there, unconsciously you go deeper into the pit into which you had originally fallen.
You move uncomfortably through your thoughts, and in order not to continue looking at the moon, you get up slowly, rubbing your sleepy eyes, sighing when the change of position causes you terrible fatigue, increased by the long and terrible day you had had at work. Your bones seemed to creak like a bird's wing when you broke it in half, it was all in your imagination, but you would swear you heard some bones crunch, you get confused, but you still understand that those were the bones of people you killed in the past, that now replay in your mind.
You rub your temples, in a circular motion, but you can't get rid of the less than happy memories. You walk towards the small kitchen that housed the Agency's dorm. You take a clear glass and fill it halfway with fresh water. You hold it in your hand for a relatively long time, watching the artistic light of the kitchen projecting itself onto the glass in yellowish tones. The moment comes where you finally direct the surface of the glass towards your lips, drinking the water slowly, as if you were afraid that if you drank it too quickly, the glass would fall and break into millions of crystals that you would then step on, causing painful injuries.
"What's even happening to me..." You whisper these words once you place the glass in the sink. Your words come out like a ghost's whisper, almost unpredictable, a soft tone but slightly distorted by your own head that made you hallucinate voices or things that weren't really there and never existed. "What is wrong with me?"
For about a minute you remain motionless, thinking about the possibility of somehow eliminating those thoughts and freeing yourself. You were trying to organize yourself, your thoughts were rebellious, they didn't pay attention to you, and this wasn't just now, reversing time, you were a little girl who had a single order stuck in your head, "Kill when it's night. When it falls and the moon is seen". Even as an adult now, that order repeats itself like a broken record in your brain, and once again, another sigh leaves your mouth. Exhausted by suffering and the invisible rope that keeps you between the future and the past, you decide to walk towards your shared futon with your sweet partner, the tatami around it gave it elegance, but that was not what you were worried about at that moment.
You lie down and your head falls on the white pillows, freshly washed yesterday. You try to close your eyes, and although it is difficult, you finally manage to sleep.
─────
The morning comes as at the beginning of summer and the warm rays of the sun make the eyes open slightly. Outside now you see a sun, a yellow sun that shines, although you know that in hours that will be a moon, but that no longer torments you, since the orange colors of the sky make you calm down and think that you are in paradise. The sun's rays simply hit your skin and warm it pleasantly.
Beside you, you feel arms embracing you possessively, and it's just then that you realize that Dazai has returned. You could feel his heat hitting your back and his head on the back of your neck. With a slow movement, not even realizing if he was asleep or just waiting for his sleeping beauty to wake up, you stretch your arms, and you know it was a pleasant stretch as you hear your bones stretch. You yawn slightly, and turn your head to see your partner.
"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?" A voice soft like honey, cloying like melted sugar and a serene look, even maintaining his charisma makes you feel better after that night.
"I can't assure you of that... I didn't have a very good time last night, the memories torment me again, Dazai, I don't like to be alone when there is a moon in the starry sky," you explain with a slight complaining tone, as if you were blaming him for not coming ooner. "I only slept well the moment you came with me to sleep."
"I'm so sorry, belladonna... Kunikida made me finish my report and didn't let me go until it was ready," a drama in his tone of voice makes him sound like a whining puppy. "Believe me... I missed you a lot too."
Dazai's arms grab you and pull you towards him, so that you fall on top of him, your breathing changes slightly to a faster one, you watch him calmly, although in his eyes, your figure simply seduces him. You have Osamu at your mercy, and you notice how a pointed smirk appears on his face, one of his legs bending so that his knee is between your legs.
"You have to miss me a lot to be so hungry now, huh?" You scold him, gently grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. He just smiles.
“I have to say… the only thing I’m hungry right now is dessert,” his words pause, in which his hands rest on the sides of your torso, bringing you closer to his desired position. His body lifts and sits up only to let the weight of your body rest on his lap, a shy look coming from you. "And that dessert is you."
“I don’t think cannibalism is ideal,” you reply, mildly bewildered.
A joyful laugh comes from him and his warm smile only widens as he looks at you tenderly. "No, silly, I didn't mean that... I meant something else!"
"What 'something else'...?"
A sudden kiss falls on your warm lips. A voracious hunger emanating from him doesn't allow you to react and you are taken by surprise by the flame that burns inside him every time he looks at you. Your lips fight to stay firm, but his insistence on having you close to him while he devours you makes you give in at one point, small bites on your lip, and you know that his way of kissing is passionate when he feels like it and soft when he thinks it's romantic —something that turns out too well—. The warmth of the morning envelops Osamu, and sooner than expected, his tounge joins the kiss, dancing with yours hungrily. What had you done for yourself, an innocent lamb, to fall into the clutches of a wolf?
Just when you think you're going to run out of air, he finally stops feeding on your lips, which would probably have a few small bruises on them. Both you and him take a breath and observe each other in silence, you feel how passion envelops you, although a shyness for such an intimate act knowing that you were not the type of person who liked sudden and rather soft kisses.
You are surprised how his cold hands sneak under your pajamas, touching your abdomen with an innocent smile, trying to escape a judging look from you, but you really didn't have the strength left to scold him, now you were just surprised. You absolutely hated this moment.
"I didn't expect you to do that..." you murmur sheepishly, a slight frown appearing on your face when he dares to move his hand downwards, you grab it and hold it down.
“What can I say… Hunger eats me up inside,” he sighs, his hand resting on your cheek. You really wondered why he liked to touch you whenever he could, no matter where he was. "The dulcet taste of your lips has left me satisfied, but I think I still have a little piece left to taste..." His eyes lower slightly down your body, and with a wicked smile he rolls you to the side, taking advantage of your confusion to be the one who had you immobilized.
"Dazai... Please, I just woke up earlier, do you really want me to go to work tired after what you're going to do?" You ask him, a small fear is present that swirls in your abdomen, and he seems to read your thoughts as if he lived in your brain, and an icy hand presses your abdomen, you squirm in place, and this increases Dazai's desire by seconds. "Please, let's just do this later?"
"You see, I can't really wait... You've done this, you're the one who's gonna solve it..." with his hand releasing pressure on your abdomen, he unbuttons his pants, eagerly anticipating it. Your nerves are starting to get to you, this is probably the second time in your life you've done this with him, and you don't expect it to be the last. "I'll go slow... I promise. Well, you might just see a few stars, but nothing too uncommon, really," his voice caresses your ear when he leans to whisper these, and you freeze when he also attempts to lower your pijama shorts.
You blink, nervous.
"We still have all morning... Well, shall we get started, my dear?" a smug on his lips as he pulls down the remaining underwear, so slowly it's like a torture for himself.
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Ok, this is my first time writting suggestive scenes... I don't know if it's good or not, so comments about what you thought about this oneshot is appreciated.
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asher-agere · 6 months ago
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haiii!!! could you do regressor nikolai headcanons please? =)
:0 MY FAVORITE BOY. HIS TIME HAS CAME. I literally have a Nikolai cosplay he’s that much of my favorite. All homemade too! Well mostly, making his pants sounded confusing. But other than that completely homemade! So uhm. Yeah I like Nikolai a tiny bit guys
Little Nikolai
🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺
♢ Nikolai is definitely a kid regressor! He is the silliest little guy EVER. His caregiver should know that he’s a kid regressor! However there’s always the chance of Nikolai slipping younger right? Nikolai sees this as a prank opportunity! He’ll constantly act like a baby, babbling, sucking on his thumb, refusing to walk, insisting on a bottle. Baby stuff! But then random he’ll just be like “Oh no… You have amnesia! I’m not a baby! Come back!” Then he’ll shake his caregiver really hard as if they’re the one going crazy. The first time it was confusing. Since then it’s just typical Nikolai
♢ Nikolai will do a bunch of stuff he’s not supposed to! Bedtime is at 10 PM? At 10:30 he’s going to his caregiver “I can count really big y’know that? 1, 2…” No sweets before dinner? He can reach into his cape and pull sweets right out of the cupboard. He’s supposed to make his bed? Don’t even ask. He will literally drag the mattress off of the frame. This is a chaos child! He shall not be contained by rules! If he’s about to get a stern talking to (Never yelling of course!) he’ll just swish his cape and then he’s gone!
♢ It’s really rare for Nikolai to be sad. He’s a very energetic and happy baby! But when he’s sad it’s like a depression, nothing can really cheer him up, it can just be made slightly more comfortable. Sad Nikolai is also a polar opposite of how he usually is. He’ll be completely silent, compliant, and barely even move. The best thing that can be done is his caregiver holds him super tight and lets him watch a silly cartoon! It can take awhile, 2 hours is like a minimum of just sitting there watching the cartoons. But eventually he’ll slowly start shifting around, finding the energy to move, and he’ll start quietly babbling about the show!
♢ Nikolai loves to play pretend and dress up! He has so many clothes with crazy colors and designs, he’ll dress up both himself and his caregiver then insist that they’re going to work in the circus! He’ll pretend to do a bunch of circus acts, but then he wants circus treats of course! Cotton candy and funnel cake and popcorn… Popcorn is usually the only one he can get. Which he is upset about, and he will complain, but not to much! Popcorn is still super good!
♢ Nikolai likes snacks in general! He’ll play with his food a lot, his caregiver needs to remind him like a million times that he needs to actually eat. He’ll take a couple bites… Then the broccoli is attacking his chicken again! It’s an endless loop. Sometimes he does like it when his caregiver feeds him! Give him some kind of fidget toy to play with while his caregiver feeds him ‘airplanes’ of food. Very happy giggling baby!
♢ Nikolai loves telling stories using his toys! These stories can be very chaotic though. Sometimes it’s a peaceful story about friendship, other times it’s an intricate war plot that includes and underlying romance somehow. Nikolai’s general behavior honestly doesn’t change much when he’s regressed, he’s an energetic ball of chaos no matter what. Luckily this means his caregiver is used to his high energy though!
♢ Nikolai’s room is constantly a mess, however he’s able to navigate it perfectly! Anytime his caregiver tries walking in his room they’re stepping on everything, however Nikolai just steps and hops and he can get anywhere he might need to! Mainly from his door to his bed. But sometimes he needs to get to his comfy clothes or his toys!
🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺
Yay baby Nikolai! He’s such a chaotic handful. His poor caregiver must always be tired from dealing with his nonsense
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mack-writersblock · 3 months ago
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Hiya! I don't know if you write for Loki, but if you do can I request something like a Howl's Moving Castle thing? I was thinking something along the lines of maybe the reader is girly and everything, but her curse doesn't make her old just ugly or something. She's just a worker in the medical wing or something and Loki is just always around her and claims it's because he likes how quiet it is but he's really just around her because he likes her and wants to find a way to tell her that he loves her without her trying to claim that he can't love her because of how she looks. And can you keep in where she cannot talk about her curse but Loki figures it out somehow anyway? Maybe like that one scene where it's shown that Sophie looks like her normal self while she's asleep or like how Sophie's curse went away slowly as she fell in love?
Sorry, this is a long request!
The Mirror's Secret || L. Laufeyson
Summary: fem!reader is cursed but Loki loves her anyway.
cw: no used of Y/N, predetermined last name (Hollings), reader doesn't like her looks in the beginning, reader is in the medical wing for undescribed injury, pet names (reader is continually called princess by the witch for no reason except to taunt her and Loki calls the reader love), barely edited.
Word count: 1899
Don't apologize for the long request, it's ok! I don't normally write for Loki but I decided to give it a try. I'm sorry if he's a little out of character! Also sorry I went astray a little on the prompt but I just got into the groove.
₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊
You were used to the stares as you walked past and the obvious judgment. You were used to people only seeing the curse, how unattractive you were forced to be. You just held your head high as you walked to your office, having an administrative position for the Avenger’s medical team had its perks. 
₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊
“What’s the point of having a personal office if it’s always occupied?” You joked as you walked in, seeing Loki sitting on the couch you had placed there for him.
“You say that as if this couch was not added to your office for me,” he didn’t even look up from his book, and you shook your head.
“You got me there,” you sat down, turning on the computer.
“Good morning, Dr. Hollings,” the door opened to reveal Peter Parker. 
“Good morning, Peter,” you greeted him with a smile.
“I’m here to get Mr. Loki for a meeting,” Peter smiled back at you, he was one of the few that never seemed to cringe away when looking at you.
“You heard the boy, go along,” you waved Loki out of your office. He slightly huffed and closed his book while getting up. “Have a good meeting, boys!” You called after them, smiling when you heard a small goodbye from Peter.
₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊
You were asleep when Loki walked in; he couldn’t see anything but your hair pooling around your face at first. However, you shifted slightly when the light from the hallway hit your face. It was just enough movement for Loki to be able to see you. He took a sharp inhale, you looked different, entirely different. He always knew there was a slight magic around you at all times, he just never realized why.
Your hair was the same color, just longer. There was a change in your face shape; everything suited you more, yet you were still you.
₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊
It was later in the day when you awoke; the sun was shining through the curtains. You looked around and noticed Loki sitting on the couch, reading a different book than before.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” You scrunched your eyebrows at him.
“You looked peaceful and like you needed it,” Loki dismissed your concerns without looking up.
“Can I ask you a question?” 
“Sure,” he put his book down to look at you.
“Why are you in here all the time? Surely the library or your room is quieter,” you looked away from him, not wanting to see your reflection in the window.
“I just wish to have company sometimes,” he told you simply, and you nodded at him. You wanted to ask if he could help with your curse if he knew a way to break it, but you couldn’t. It was the nature of the curse; you couldn’t speak about it.
“Oh,” you tried again, but your lips wouldn’t par,t and your throat wouldn’t make a sound. “Ok,” you told him, giving up on trying to speak about it.
₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊
Loki was in his room, the multitude of books around him floating and thrown around. He was pouring over every book about curses and spells he could find. He was determined to find a way to help you; he loved you after all.
“Brother!” Thor’s voice broke through the silence that Loki had shrouded himself in as he burst through the door.
“What is it, you imbecile?” Loki seethed, not wanting to be bothered.
“Are you aware that Lady Hollings is hurt?” Thor stepped away from the door as he spoke, knowing that Loki was going to shoot up from his spot on the bed at the news.
“What?” He shouted and started making his way down to the medical wing.
“There is something else you should know,” Thor spoke again but was ignored by his brother.
₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊
You were asleep when Loki walked in, your face looking like the one he had only seen that one day.
“She looks so different,” Wanda mused aloud, she wasn’t trying to be mean. You stirred at the sound of her voice; the group failed to notice the shimmer of magic fall over you as your eyes opened. But when you finally looked at them, you were back to the cursed look. 
“Hi?” You held your hand to the back of your head; it hurt, and you knew why.
“Why do you look different when you sleep?” Wanda blurted it out, and you looked over at her.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you shook your head, and she went to open her mouth but stopped when Loki used his magic to shove everyone out of the room.
“You’re cursed, right?” He asked, and you went to answer, but your lips and vocal cords refused to move. You couldn’t even nod your head to agree with him; you just sat there staring at him.
“Do you have a curse?” Was all you could get out as you intensely stared at him.
“You can’t talk about it, can you?” You couldn’t shake your head or answer; it was frustrating, but you had an idea.
“Can you talk about yours?” You knew he didn’t have one; it was the only way you could even get close to talking about it.
“So you can’t,” he hummed, you just sat there as you watched him think. “Is there anything you can say about it?”
“No, that’s all,” you told him, you knew that much.
“Are you aware that when you sleep it goes away?” 
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” you honestly told him.
“It does, when you sleep it goes away. I’ve seen it happen twice now,” Loki pulled a chair closer to your bed.
“Oh,” you tried to acknowledge it, but the curse kicked in, once you knew it, it wouldn’t let you speak about it. “Can you help me out of here? I’m not that hurt,” you moved the blanket from your legs and swung them over. Loki reached out to help steady you, you grabbed onto his forearm and could feel the magic strumming in his veins. “Thanks,” you mumbled, failing to notice your eye shape changing back to normal.
₊˚‧ ︵‿ ꒰ ⏝ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏝ ꒱ ‿︵ ‧˚₊
You sat in your office and held your head in your hands, you had a headache. You spent all night trying to find the witch that put the spell on you; every lead had been a dead end. You didn’t notice the door opening or Loki entering the room.
“Are you ok?” Loki spoke softly.
“Huh? Oh yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, looking up at him. You looked at your phone when it lit up, your entire being lit up when you saw the message. “I gotta take this,” you grabbed your phone and left the room.
“Hollings, I have information about the witch,” the voice on the other end made you smile, you didn’t notice Loki looking at you.
“Oh?” You realized how dry you sounded, but there wasn’t anything else you could say.
“She lives in the mountains of Sokovia,” you smiled at the information.
“Thank you,” you hung up and quickly walked back into the room. You looked at Loki and thought of a way to tell him anything. “Your curse,” you started, and he nodded. “Did the person who cursed you live in-” your voice cut out, and your lips sealed together. “Did they live where the Maximoffs are from?” You questioned. Loki seemed to get the hint and stood up, making you smile.
“Let’s go,” he grabbed your arm, and the world seemed to distort around you in a shimmer of green. Your stomach turned, and your headache seemed worse, but it quickly went away as the world righted itself again.
“Woah,” you breathed out as you looked around. There was a light breeze that blew around you; the mountains were beautiful. You spotted a house, and the memory of it slammed into you. “This way,” you dragged Loki by the arm to the house, your hair blowing behind you.
“Don’t go in there,” a voice was behind you as you stepped on the porch stairs. The two of you whipped around and there stood the witch that cursed you.
“It’s you!” You called, stepping towards her. She smiled at you, but you didn’t return it. 
“Oh, is the princess mad at me?” She teased you.
“How I do break the curse?” You questioned her. She didn’t answer you, she just waved her hand and the house behind you swallowed Loki whole. “Loki!” You turned to the door, trying to open it.
“Little Miss Princess wants to help her love,” the witch taunted you, making you whip towards her.
“Give him back!” You shouted.
“There’s nothing you can do,” she said in a singsong voice.
“No, there has to be something!”
“If only he wasn’t cruel and unjust,” she waved her hand again, and the house disappeared.
“You don’t know him! You don’t know me! You cursed me, you were so jealous you took my beauty, and you told me that I would be as ugly on the outside as I am on the inside! You were wrong, I’m a good person, Loki is a good person. You don’t get to decide who is good or not, you don’t get to use magic to make yourself better than everyone else!” You were shouting, the wind picked up as you did. You were also unaware of the curse slowly fading away as you yelled. “You call him cruel and unjust yet don’t realize how cruel and unjust it is to compare them to your modernized idealizations. He was born in a time where he was worshiped by man, he was taught and raised to be malicious and mean. You call him cruel and unjust yet don’t realize the irony of your own word!” You continued to shout, the wind whipped around you some more and you watched as the witch laughed at you.
“You love him, don’t you?”
“I,” you hesitated to tell her, knowing what happened the last time you admitted it to her. “I do,” you told her, you felt the wind pick up more and watched her smile drop. You didn’t notice the curse lifting or the house appearing and spitting Loki out.
“Congrats, princess, you lifted the curse. Now leave before I curse you again,” she told you.
“Give me Loki back, I’m not leaving without him,” you crossed your arms and she laughed.
“He’s right there,” she told you and you whipped around.
“Oh thank goodness,” you ran and jumped to hug him.
“Your curse is gone,” he told you and you reached up to touch your face and hair.
“It is!” You laughed. “I guess I just needed to fall in love,” you told him.
“Fall in love?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah, with you,” you went to pull away after your confession but he pulled you into a kiss.
“I’m glad the feeling is mutual, love,” he told you and you smiled at him.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
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