#OKAY FINE I LIED I WILL EXPLAIN
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a little late to deny the kiss pv
#no i wont explain what made me draw this#crk fanart#cookie run kingdom#pure vanilla cookie#shadow milk cookie#shadowvanilla#pureshadow#vanilla milkshake#my drawbs#fanart#OKAY FINE I LIED I WILL EXPLAIN#this may slightly connect w the other comic i did with touchstarved sm#in the way that he very much forcefully dragged pv in a widdle smooch (not widdle at all)#and got the urge to give him a little bite (not little he is bleeding)#OH the hypocrisy to say sm can touch him whenever he wants yet deny a little kiss!! so cruel of pv!!#but pv didnt fight against it really hard until he was bitten
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RealAgeAu Drabble - Backstory
And the next drabble I wanted to work on! @spotaus Get in here :3
The gang discussing what their backstory is going to be :3
I am sure everyone is chill about it!
First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble
No Editing or Beta'ing either. We go STRAIGHT into the fun! :D and we are back with silly Killer for the POV :3
*----------------*
"Okay guys! you are probably wondering why I gather you all here today!" Killer grins widely at them as he stands before the group.
Cross raises his brow at him "You didn't gather us. we were already sitting here and you just closed the door-" Killer quickly puts a hand over Cross's mouth and Cross glares at him.
Killer grins as he speaks again "As I said. I gathered you here today for a reason!" Killer has got this!
Dust looks at him bored as Horror tilts his skull at him. Nightmare sits between them on the couch with his book open.
Killer grins "We need to discuss what we will tell everyone!"
Cross finally manages to free himself from Killer's hand and shoots him a look "What are you talking about? I thought we are hiding."
Killer rolls his eye lights "Not the multiverse obviously. but this universe!" he throws out his hands and Cross yelps as he barely dodges it.
Horror frowns but gives a nod "true. If we stay for longer people will ask questions."
Killer nods "indeed! And I spend the last three days, so since we stepped foot in this universe! Thinking about a backstory. And with Crop confirming he has gotten into contact witha doctor for Nightmare. It is time we set up our backstory and lore!" Killer would have prefered to have a board to cover with drawings to better show his plan but this will have to do.
Dust tilts his skull "so we are staying then?" Dust grins a bit "also don't hurt yourself with thinking so much."
Killer just grins back at dust at his joke as he can see both Cross and horror look hopeful. Killer grins as he nods "If this works out! We already have a good standing here thanks to Horror and his friendship with Crop!" which is Killer not at all jealous about. shut up. the fact that Horror decided to go back to them even when he was friends with crop proves he likes them better!
Killer forces himself to focus back on the now "Anyway! We can't say we just came from another universe because that isn't a thing here so we need a better backstory!"
Dust tilts his skull but nods "seems fair."
Killer grins and decides to go for the easiest part first "Obviously! most important. Where did Nightmare came from." and he shoots Dust and Cross a very pointed look.
Cross blushes bright purple as he connects the dots and he holds up his hands "We can't say we... we... together!" and he tries to hide in his hood.
Killer snorts "Obviously not you both. One of you need to claim the bio parent role though."
Dust has a suspicious look on his face "Why just one?"
Killer gives asmile as he just looks away. aparently he can't start the easy part first.
Dust glares "Killer."
Killer sighs "Look! We need to explain Ngihtmare's past trauma. Which means someone did something to cause said trauma." he waits but everyone nods in agreement. Killer continues "We can't just say we stole a random child. people will try to get him to go into like whatever child system they have here." another round of nods "so. easiest way. one of us got him. But with someone else and that someone did the trauma!"
Cross connects the dots first "You want to use an abusive ex storyline?"
Killer nods as he grins "yes!"
Dust crosses his arms "No one is going to believe one of us would stand by the abuse and let it happen or let it happen to us."
Killer just keeps grinning at Dust and waiting. time for the ahrdest part.
Dust blinks before glaring "No."
Killer whines and straight away goes on his knees as he looks up begging at Dust "come on Dusty! You are the like only pick for this! Neither Horror or I can play the bio parent part as we have too strong characteristics that would be suspicious to not see in Nighty!" Killer with his dark sockets, his goop, red soul and obvious red magic. That is too many strong indentifiers to ALL miss wiht Nightmare. Horror himself is large and tall and has red magic himself. Nightmare is tiny and purple so it won't fit for either of them.
Dust does not look convinced so Killer continues still on his knees before Dust "pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaase Dusty! You and Crossy are the only ones that fit with the looks!"
Dust glares down at Killer as he crosses his arms. Killer grins "I mean it! Crossy has purple magic and you too! That fits wiht Nightmare's even if the shade is a bit off but people are less likely to ask questions or comment about how the other's parents genes were clearly stronger."
Cross looks thoughtful "True... "
Dust sighs "Fine I can admit that works but that still leaves the issue that clearly neither of us would stand back or let the abuse happen." he blinks at him and looks to the side as a tiny tiny bit of purple starts to dusts, heh, his cheeks "and get off you knees you weirdo."
Killer shakes his skull because now comes the hardest part. "about that..."
Cross also clearly knows and same for Horror as both of them have a look of understanding and neither look at Dust. Dust glares "What?"
Killer keeps grinning "Out of all of us? You are the least obvious with your LV..."
Dust blinks before glaring more "absolutely not!" his rage is obvious and Killer can feel Dust's magic crackling and growing more staticy. Dust glares "I am fine with being seen as his bio parent. That is fine that changes nothing at this point. But I am not acting as if i am defenceless."
Killer just keeps sitting on his knees before dusty "please dusty! You are the only one that fits the image they would have for this!"
Dust glares at him "One check Killer. One check and this whole fucking plan falls apart!" Dusty glances at nightmare "don't repeat that."
Nightmare, who had been watching this whole situation with bemusement. Shoots Dust a glare which Dust looks unbothered by as Dust himself glare at Killer. See?! Even the same expressions!
Killer just keeps trying to use his most charming smile as he begs Dusty on his knees "please!! They won't check you!" he shoots Horror a look "right?!"
Horror looks unhappy about being involved and a whole lot more nervous when Dust sends his glare in his direction "true... Only monsters can check in this universe. And they never even did it with me. It is seen as slapping someone to start a fight. Made a lot of people very nervous when i would not stop checking people on first instinct."
Killer grins at Dust "See? Perfectly fine!"
Dust rubs his face but Killer just smiles wider. He is getting through to him!
Dust groans as he leans back "This is such a stupid plan."
Cross clears his throat as he speaks "I... I euh... think Killer is right on this."
Killer and Dust both turn to him and speak in unison "What?!" though Killer can admit that he himself sounds a lot happier and Dust a lot angrier.
Cross looks nervous "It is just... Even when i met you guys first? I gravitated towards Dust because well... he seemed the least threatening at the time? Because... well.. you know... you normally look calm and collected and just bored... you are still shorter as your LV didn't affect you physically and only affected your magic and stats. Meaning... well... if people don't know about your LV?" he waves at Dust.
Dust slowly but surely gets a slightly horrified look on his face "No...." he glares a tKiller "no."
Killer go straight back to begging and smiles at Dust "please?"
Dust groans as he covers his face and leans fully agaisnt the couch. Nightmare gently pats his shoulder. Dust glances at Nightmare and keeps staring at him for a long time. Ngihtamre just tilts his skull at him.
Dust sighs and then lets out antoher sigh but this one a lot longer and louder "and... what exactly... did you have in mind?"
Killer grins widely as he climbs on top of the couch next to Dust, thank the fucking stars his knees were starting to hurt, and launches into the plan.
"The plan I had in mind is easy. We all went to the same school in some other country. We will keep this vague on purpose because we 'don't want to be found.' by who? Not important as they aren't real and we in the lore aren't risking it. One day, lets say..." he glances at Dust. Dust still looks young just exhausted and unhealthy "lets say we were 16 ish. maybe 17ish." that would make Dust now like 22 or 23ish. Seeing as they all were stuck in timeloops and universe hopping makes ages weird as for the fact as skeletons it is hard to guess by looks. It doesn't really matter in the long run. They will get a random age on their new papers and roll with that.
Dust raises a brow but keeps listening. Killer continues "So. lets say you were 17ish and suddenly. boom. no longer going to school and no contact with us, your three besties. the bestest besties to have ever bestied!" Cross rolls his eye lights but Horror and Nightmare both snort. Killer grins "So we finish school. la-di-da. when. say... about a year after you diappeared you just showed up again. Said you had a relationship. got a babybones. but the asshole run off wiht said babybones!" he grins as he has everyones attention.
"We work together and start looking but the guy, or gal, who has the tiny baby is high in power. political wise, only local though as bigger would have been noticed. and dusty and the baby had been completely kept out of the spotlight so no one was aware, whcih is also why no one every said anything about dust just being gone or being kept quiet bla blah let them make assumptions on what happened in this time. It took us a lot of time to figure out where nighty was kept. and we just. stole him back! then we ran and we went to crop because one, other country, two, Horror trusted him and we trusted horror!" and he throws his arms out.
Cross frowns "won't people demand to know more? To bring whoever did that to dust and nightmare to justice." dust sputters about them not having settled on this yet but Cross just gives him a smile before focussing back on Killer.
Killer shakes his skull "Not if we play our parts right. we don't want to risk it ever again. No one is looking for nightmare because our 'enemy' had kept him hidden and unknown to make sure no one asked questions about his health or what they did to him. Which now makes it impossible for them to look for him because he technically doens't exist because of that. Whcih works because none of us technically exist."
horror gives a slow nod "We gave up everything to help our friend and his babybones. and are trying to start completely anew." Dust sputters again.
Killer grins "that is the plan!"
Dust covers his face as he leans back "This is so stupid. how many dramas did you watch to GET this idea?!"
Killer hums proudly "haven't seen a single one since we left the castle!" he glances around and sees that cross and horror are both sold on his idea as well. It is a bit complex but they can stay general and vague as they don't have to use names or places because they are trying to stay hidden. all that leaves is the most important part of the plan. He looks begging at Dust and gives his best begging face "please?"
Dust looks to the side "ask cross! His magic and looks also work!"
Horror shakes his skull "Cross obviously works out and is and looks taller and stronger than both you and Killer, not to forget healthier than you. Won't fit the mental image they will have of someone who could be used, abused and abandoned."
Dust looks very, very, offended after that sentance and Horror is very quick to realise this and apologise.
Killer pouts at Dust "please dust. The alternatives would have to eitehr explain why you would claim a random babybones not your own and how you even found out about him. Which would cause a lot of questions. and if we don't go this route but keep you as bioparent it would raise questions on how the hell you as a badass would EVER allow anyone to take your babybones without raising bloody hell. which would ahve to include a friend of some kinda betraying you and then how could you trust us near or a friend of a friend you know?"
Killer knows he is just saying a lot of words at the moment and Dust looks deeply unhappy about the whole situation.
Dust covers his face but glances at Ngihtmare again before groaning louder "Fine!! Fine fine fine!" he glares at him "we will do you stupid stupid plan and stupid story but I swear you own me BIIIIIIG time."
Killer grins and hugs dusty "you are the best dusty! Thank you!! You will see this is fine! just in the beginning people will act weird but once we are settled and a bit of time passed and things are chill it will all work out!" Killer nuzzles close to Dust "It even explains that you would know more personally about Nightmare's situation and can help him when answering hard questions because you would have been in the same hell as he was for a little while!" Dust just grumbles with crossed arms, which are now holding Nightmare close. Clearly the real motivation to even accept this situation.
Killer will have to gravel a LOT to make it up to Dust for this but that is okay! This just gives them options and the backstory to make other options and paths work! Dust will probably eventually forgive him and otherwise Killer can beg a bit more. it clearly worked once already!
*----------*
and that is the backstory they settling on!
In short: Dust is a late teen parent. had a relationship with someone, much older much more adult with political power. That someone hurt and isolated him. Dust got the babybones wiht them. This person, stole nighty, and left Dust somewhere in anouther country alone with nothing to his name. Dust, the vengeful and resistent guy he is. Makes his way ALL the way back home to his old hometown, still nothing to his name not even a high school degree, gets into contact with his old friends. With said friends they get all the resources they have and start searching for the asshole and get Dust his babybones back. It took them a while to get him back, six years, but they managed to find where the asshole had hidden Nightmare. Stole Nightmare. and made a run for it to get all the way to Crop.
That is the backstory/lore they settled on! :D Dust is unhappy about his roll in it even if it gives him priveledges with deciding stuff for Nightmare. it is a double edged sword.
First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble
#RealAgeAu#UTMV#nightmare sans#deaged nightmare#dust sans#killer sans#horror sans#cross sans#team as family#bad sanses#Okay I lied#I did a tiny bit of editing on this one. mostly because i wanted to be sure the backstory is clear as it won't be explained AGAIN and only#referenced and hinted at#So a bit important#Also Killer again! He is such a silly guy but so smart and we love him#dust is very unhappy about this situation but he loves his babybones nad friends so FINE he will do this but he is gonna hate it#cross and horror realised real soon that killer was right and knew it would be a struggle to get dust to agree as well#killer would have prefered to have drawings to show and explain his plan better but this will have to do#mostly because he didn't have the time to acquire a board and the needed supplies to make all of his drawings#guess he is doing a posterless poster presentation!#Also killer having to use his natural 20 in charisma and having to roll a nat 20 to convince dust#It is okay he can do this all day which dust knew and dust didn't have a better alternative idea and they needed to settle on something fas
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Can I not sleep because it's hot or because I'm having nightmarish thoughts about sophia
#did the cool change come?#are we still dying?#is Melbourne okay?#is Sophia okay?#will sophia be mad at me tomorrow or nice to me#will she be mad that i lied about going to Brisbane for Collingwood and that i actually went there for Carlton?#Will she know?#did she watch any of the footy?#do i explain to her about the traumatic Saturday events even though it's none of her business#traumatic just being that Collingwood lost tbh#and getting off the bus and turning around and just filled with horror and#terrifying you guys#I'm fine#well I'm not fine if sophia is in a bad mood tomorrow#everyone pray that sophia is in a good mood tomorrow
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imgonnagetyouback
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!singer!reader
Warnings: Cursing
Authors note: I guess I lied about the Lando thing… this songs just so Lando I can’t explain it and I’m actually obsessed with this song rn. You probably have to at least know the premise of the song to understand the second half of this.
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
📍New York, New York
liked by maxfewtrell taylorswift and 13,998,887 others
yourusername hello, New York!
tagged: taylorswift
Load comments…
user1 my fav
user2 love her
user3 so pretty 🤩
taylorswift 🩵
yourusername 🤭💋
user4 welcome to New York, so real
user5 I miss Lando
user6 hi queen!!!
user7 new music when
user8 “I love NY not you” lmao Lando get up
user9 now why in the world did max like this
user10 and now Lando will post an Instagram story of him partying with some random girl to prove he’s having more fun than y/n is, we know how this goes
user11 you can not tell me they don’t miss each other
sabrinacarpenter pretty 🤩 🤩 🤩
yourusername no u 💋
user12 I just need a video of her English ass trying to navigate new York please and thx
maxfewtrell hey bestie!
yourusername oh my god get out of here
user13 wtf is max doing 😭😭
gracieabrams I ❤️ u
yourusername 🥰
oscarpiastri hi
yourusername hi?
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landonorris added to their story
user14
Now wtf
user15
user10 was right
user16
Alright ig
oscarpiastri
oh okay
MESSAGES
INSTAGRAM
yourusername added to their story
oscarpiastri
Still can't believe you convinced me to do that
yourusername
You'll be fine, ill get you concert tickets
can't even tell its you either
oscarpiastri
fine
they better be vip
yourusername
Dw they will be
—————-
maxfewtrell
???
yourusername
Dw its just Oscar
maxfewtrell
Jesus i cant believe you
yourusername
He started it. This is the first time I've included a guy in my posts, landos been doing it for months
maxfewtrell
you're gonna be the death of me
yourusername
💋💋💋💋
maxfewtrell
take care of yourself though y/n
yourusername
I am
Thx tho max 🫶
maxfewtrell
Yeah yeah 🙄
——————————————
yourusername
📍Paris, France
liked by charles_leclerc oscarpiastri and 21,008,771 others
yourusername I can tell when somebody still wants me
load comments…
user17 oh yay they're gonna sneak diss in their Insta captions again
user18 I miss dad ☹️
user19 she's so pretty omg
maxfewtrell oh wonderful we’re doing this now
yourusername leave
user20 lando its your turn
user21 IM IN LOVE WITH HER
charles_leclerc I'm amused
yourusername congrats
user22 they're so messy I love them
oscarpiastri great he's about to drag me into doing something stupid because of this
yourusername that is not my problem
user23 I sense new music coming along
user24 I do genuinely think he still wants her lowk
user25 they want eachother, don't lie. Its defo mutual
user26 😍😍😍
taylorswift 🤩
yourusername 🥰
jackantonoff 🤪
liker by yourusername
user27 why is jack here???? New music???
————————————————
landonorris
liked by maxfewtrell martingarrix and 12,008,998 others
landonorris I have what I want
load comments…
user28 oh… yay
user29 🤩🤩🤩
user30 say what you want about their shitty personalities but they sure do know how to make an aesthetic post
user31 the shade is immense
maxfewtrell im nauseous
landonorris 👍
user32 they’re so into each other it’s actually insane
user33 OH MY GOD WE GET IT YOU MISS EACHOTHER
user34 🤩🤩🤩
user35 he’s so fine
user35 LANDO-
user36 now what’s y/n gonna do
user37 how long until they both apologize and get back together… these are not the posts of people who have healthily moved on from their previous relationship
user38 fine as hell lowk
oscarpiastri this is 100% the most healthy way to handle this
landonorris I didn’t ask
user39 all of their friends are so annoyed and it’s so funny
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yourusername added to their story
maxfewtrell
Is this a song where you admit you’re still in love with Lando so you both can finally get over your emotional immaturity???
yourusername
kinda
maxfewtrell
Oh fr?
I thought you’d just be mean to him for the whole song
yourusername
Uhhh-
——————————————
yourusername
liked by sabrinacarpenter taylorswift and 21,000,111 others
yourusername imgonnagetyouback out now 🩶
Load comments…
user40 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK
user41 oh my god it’s so good
user42 LANDO GET UP
user43 THE CAPTION FROM PARIS WAS A SONG LYRICCCCC
user44 oh so she’s still in love with him
user45 “you were never not mine” 💀
user46 I CAN FEEL IT COMING HUMMIN IN THE WAY YOU MOVE
user47 PUSH THE RESET BUTTON WERE BECOMING SOMETHING NEW
user48 SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY ILL SAY IVE GOT SOMEONE TOO
user49 EVEN IF ITS HANDCUFFED IM LEAVING HERE WITH YOU
user50 “I’m an Aston Martin” okay lance strollll
oscarpiastri “I’ve got someone too” no you do not 💀
yourusername oh my god shut up
user51 she’s still in love with him dhmu
maxfewtrell when I asked if this was going to be emotionally healthy and not a diss I can now see why you were conflicted…. Bit of both tbh
yourusername 🫶
maxfewtrell 👎
user52 told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same 😭
user53 SO GOOD
user54 WHETHER IM GONNA BE YOUR WIFE????
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landonorris added to their story
maxfewtrell
…
what does this achieve
landonorris
What do you want
maxfewtrell
Mate come on
you’re still obviously in love with her
and the song litteraly shows she’s still in love with you
all you’ve done is post a thirst trap of yourself with song lyrics on top
landonorris
It’s not a thirst trap
maxfewtrell
I hate both of you
text her mate
you’re happier together
And I’m tired of both of you annoying the shit out of me
landonorris
Fine
Maybe I will
maxfewtrell
Thank god
It’d be the first time you listened to me
—————————————
MESSAGES
INSTAGRAM
yourusername added to their story
maxfewtrell
That better be Lando or so help me god
yourusername
Calm your tits
It is
maxfewtrell
YEAHHHH
Finally
I can stop playing matchmaker
yourusername
😒😒😒😒
————————————————
oscarpiastri
Oh so this means you’ll both stop dragging me into your dumb shit
yourusername
🖕🖕🖕🖕
oscarpiastri
🫶
———————————————
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
landonorris
liked by yourusername maxfewtrell and 13,001,881 others
landonorris told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same
load comments…
user55 YEAHHHHHHH
user56 Y/N LIKED WE’RE SO BACK
user57 my favs
user58 my parents are back together 😭
user59 unlike your real ones
user58 woah???
user59 🤷♀️ it’s the truth
user60 I missed them so much 😭😭😭
user61 admitted you love your ex-gf on main, this is self-improvement
yourusername pick your poison, babe
landonorris I’m poison either way
user62 I appreciate the repeating lyrics at each other because it is cute but those are not the kindest lyrics to be repeating 😭
user63 who knew that shit-talking your ex in a song could get him to re-admit his love for you
maxfewtrell took you long enough
landonorris legitimately who asked you
maxfewtrell I’m the reason this even happened in the first place. Watch your tone.
landonorris thanks i guess
maxfewtrell “I guess” @/yourusername this is how happy he is to have you back
yourusername landoooo
landonorris sorry. Thank you so much max, I’m so grateful you brought the loml back to me.
maxfewtrell you’re welcome ☺️
—————————————
yourusername
liked by landonorris maxfewtrell and 20,887,991 others
yourusername got you back
load comments…
user64 she got him back 🥹
user65 YEAHHHHH LFG
user66 awwwww
user67 I love them so much
user68 sleeping on the highway tonight 🫶
oscarpiastri 🥳🥳🥳
liked by yourusername
user69 these pictures are so cute oh my god 😭
user70 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK
landonorris you decided wether you’re gonna be my wife or smash up my bike yet?
yourusername still not sure… maybe both 🤔
user71 BOTH?????
user72 YEAH YEAH THATS FUNNY AND ALL BUT SHE JUST SAID SHE’D MARRY HIM
maxfewtrell congratulations nerds
yourusername thanks mate
user73 I’m in love with both of them
user74 they’re both so much happier together I really hope they stick this time
user75 and when she releases a love album then what
landonorris ily 🫶
yourusername ily2 🫶
user76 Jesus Christ they’re such teenagers 😭 USE FULL WORDS 😭😭😭
user77 no I get them. I wouldn’t post full love confessions in an Instagram comment section either lmao
user78 they got each other back 🫶
———————————————
Taglist: @casperlikej @evie-119
#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau
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choso with tongue piercing? >_<
hngh i need his tongue inside me :(
😝
Bestfriend!Choso X Reader :3
contains: fem reader, teasing, dirty talk, exhibitionism (they're in a car), sexual tension, oral (r!receiving), Choso’s first time giving head, slight jealousy, whipped!Choso & reader, first time receiving, reader has a bad track record w/ guys, mentions of bj, so soft & sweet
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Holy fuck." You swallowed hard at the view in front of you. "My brother convinced me to get it done when he got some of his piercings, said it could be a bonding experience," Choso explained, putting his tongue decorated with the little silver ball back into his mouth. "Did it hurt?" You asked, your mind still reeling that he had hidden a tongue piercing from you for all these years.
"It wasn't horrible, I'm pretty good with pain. I don't really see the point in having it pierced though." He started to explain, "No one ever sees it, even I forget it's there sometimes." Choso finished. You just smiled and nodded, pretending to listen as he kept talking about his experience getting pierced.
You had already thought of 400 scenarios in which you would let choso put his tongue (and piercing) to work on your body, so the pain he went to to get the pretty jewelry wouldnt be in vain. One particular scenario stood out in your head of him tongue fucking you, feeling the metal against your clit and- "You okay?" Choso's voice rang in your ears.
"Huh?" You said, pulling yourself from your daydream. "I asked if you would ever get your tongue pierced and you just froze up." He explained, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Oh! Oh right! I uh, I'm pretty squeamish around needles so thinking about it makes me a little... nervous" You lied through your teeth, thanking the universe that he seemed to believe it.
For the rest of the day the two of you spent together, the only thing you could focus on was his piercing. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught you several times. Choso had purposely run his tongue over his lips to wet them, every so often, just to see your breath hitch when you got a glimpse of the silver.
As he was driving the two of you back to his house for a nightcap, some relaxing song playing in the background, you spoke up through the silence, "Thanks for today Choso! I know the night isn't over yet but the museum you took us to was so much fun, we have to go to the cafe inside next time!" you exclaimed. He turned his head away from the road to look at you, before returning his gaze on the dark street.
"I'm surprised you remembered there was a cafe." He said, a hint of teasing, and snarkiness hiding in his voice. "Huh?" You voiced, tilting your head at him in confusion. "You seemed out of it today." He elaborated, "Is there something going on?" He asked, keeping his voice and face fairly monotone. His question caught you off guard, had you really been acting that weird all day? So much so that he picked up on it? Oh god.
"No! No, I'm just a little tired today, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird." You forced out a laugh, once again coming up with a quick and hopefully believable lie. Unluckily for you, Choso saw right through it. "Are you sure? Because you were acting fine until I showed you my piercing." He said, hitting the nail right on the head.
You froze, not expecting him to be able to pinpoint the exact moment in the day you started behaving strangely, why was he so damn observant? "Oh.. really?" You said, no bullshit lies or excuses coming to your tongue, so you tried to laugh it off instead, saying something about a coincidence. "Did me sharing that make you uncomfortable?" He said, making you immediately reassure him that was absolutely not the case.
He turned the car onto your street, driving slowly down the dark path and towards your house. The two of you have been friends for the longest time, spending practically every second together any chance you got, so of course he knew the way to your house like the back of his hand.
"Oh my god no! No choso, really it's.. it's nothing.." You panicked slightly, not wanting him to feel bad for you being a perv and not being able to control yourself over a piercing. You sighed heavily, scrunching your face up as you seriously contemplated telling him what was really going on with you today.
No matter what you did you couldn't stop imagining your oblivious best friend's tongue between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue and teasing the bud with the cold metal. You wanted to feel guilty you really did, but the vision was too delicious to feel any remorse.
"Does it turn you on?" He asked, pulling into your driveway and putting the car into part before he unbuckled himself and turned his body to face you. The expression on his face was unreadable, which made you nervous. Your face was heating up, and your mouth dropped open and closed like a fish out of water, trying to think of a response as your brain processed his unexpected words. You really didn't want your long-term secret crush on your best friend to be exposed like this.
"The piercing, does it turn you on?" He asked again, rephrasing his question. Oh god.. he was going to call you a perv and kick you out of the car, leaving you cold and alone in your own driveway if you said yes right? He would definitely think you were weird, who thinks about their best friend in that way?
You opted to shut your mouth, as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded as softly as you could, unsure of your own actions. He looked past you, scanning the outside around the two of you to make sure there were no witnesses before he spoke his next words. "Wanna find out why I actually got this piercing?" He asked, making your face turn a dark shade of crimson as you whispered out a needy, "Please.."
--
"Fuck- Ohmygod right there Choso- Fuck!" Your hands dug into his soft strands of hair as he ate you out like a man starved. He had you on your back in the backseat of the car, legs splayed out for him as he laid between them, feasting on your cunt. He flattened his tongue out against your clit, making sure the ball of the piercing was kissing the little bud before he shook his head back and forth, stimulating your clit against it.
It had happened so fast, he had leaned forward and pressed your lips together, asking if this was okay before he unbuckled your seatbelt while you were distracted, and somehow the two of you had ended up in the backseat. You weren't sure why he didn't just drag you inside but you couldn't lie that the thrill of doing something like this in the car was exciting.
Choso scissored his fingers in and out of you, abusing your g-spot with the pads of his digits as they curled up against it. His tongue was working you over so well, he drew his name over and over on your clit, occasionally sucking it into his warm mouth and humming around it, sending delicious vibrations through your cunt.
Choso had never told you about any of his sexual conquests, so you werent really sure what to expect in terms of how well he would do when he said he was going to eat you out. Now you were begining to think he had a side job as a porn star or something because his technique was unreal.
"H-how are you so fucking g-good mph!" You cut yourself off with a whine when he suckled your clit particularly hard, making your body jolt against him. Truthfully, Choso had never eaten anyone out before, but he most definitely had watched porn and practiced on his hand for the day he got the courage to ask you out.
He wasn't expecting the opportunity to fall into his lap this easily, so when he saw your eyes light up at his piercing, he internally thanked the gods that you caught a glimpse of it in the sun, which led to him revealing the jewelry to you.
Choso always paid the utmost attention to you, without you even knowing it. He knew what you liked and disliked, he even so much as knew every detail about your tone and facial expressions to make sure you were constantly pleased and comfortable, he always wanted the best for you after all.
He watched how people would break your heart and toss you aside like you were nothing, it alwasy made him furious. They were absolute idiots to give you up, he hated seeing you sad over some unemployed nobody who never really cared about you from the start. Althogh he hated them, he couldnt help but feel a little grateful for them. If it werent for them taking you for granted, you might be in a relationship still, and the two of you wouldnt be in his backseat right now.
Choso moaned against your core when your hands tightened in his hair, rolling his eyes at the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp. "Does it feel good?" He said back, knowing damn well your answer. "Yes, yes Choso, fuck!" You moaned, dropping your chin to watch him work between your thighs.
He was already looking at you when your eyes locked with his. His eyebrows scrunched together upon feeling your gaze, keeping his dark eyes on yours as he ate you out with more vigor, drinking in your body’s every reaction to his tongue. The vibrations from his deep groans were going to push you over the edge. "Choso- Choso I'm close," You whined, fighting your eyes from rolling back in your head so you could keep your eyes on his and watch him do his thing.
He was so unbelievably handsome like this, the streetlights casting beautiful shadows on his face, and his expression was so needy it made your heart skip a beat. The way his eyebrows mimicked your expressions whenever he did something that felt particularly good, was so hot, he was so attentive.
The man between your legs was feeling drunk. This was something he only dreamed of and it was actually happening. He felt like his cock was going to burst from just tasting you alone, but he would gladly make home between your thighs forever. "Please," He begged from between your legs, scrunching his eyebrows together as he ate you out with more vigor.
He released his fingers from your tight hole and opted to replace them with his tongue, pressing his face as tightly against you as he could to make sure his tongue was fucking inside you as deep as possible, making sure to lick his tongue upwards against your walls so you could feel his piercing inside you. His fingers came to rub little circles on your clit with expert precision, making your legs start to shake.
You dug your nails against his scalp as you humped your hips against his face, hearing his muffled moans encourage you from between your thighs. "Ohmygod Choso! I-I'm cumming-" You wined before you felt the knot start to unravel. Choso swore he almost came in his pants at how sensually you cried out his name, mentally recording it for later.
He kept up his ministrations on your pussy, drinking up everything you gave him as you came hard on his face, squishing his soft cheeks between your thighs. He was mesmerized as he watched your body shake and curl in on itself, he stared at your mouth as it dropped open and spilled out profanities and whines of his name, broken on your tongue. When your back relaxed against the seat of the car once more he slowed his fingers on your clit, careful to not overstimulate you.
"Holy f-fuck Choso." You whispered, leaving your hands in his hair and running them through your own, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You took a quick look around in the post haze of your orgasm and noticed how foggy the windows were, so much for trying not to be obvious; anyone with half a brain would know what was going on if they walked past your car.
After he made sure he licked you clean, he pulled his face back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, raising his body to sit comfortably on the seat as his other large hand came to caress your thigh soothingly. "Was that okay?" He asked, looking at you like a puppy.
"Okay?" You repeated, astonished he was asking as if he didn't just witness how hard you came, "I'm pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had in my life." You laughed, making him smile at your words as your hand came down on top of his while he was petting your thigh. "Thank felt so good Choso, thank you." You said blushing as you closed your legs, noticing how exposed you were in comparison to him.
Of course, he picked up on this, he reached over to pick up your previously discarded panties from the floor of the car, wiping them off before he handed them, alone with your pants, to you. You said your thanks to him and he nodded shyly, a stark difference to how he was acting moments ago. It wasn't till you were almost finished getting dressed again when you noticed his massive boner. How did you not see it before? You felt so bad for letting him sit like that for god knows how long.
"Choso, you're hard." You said, stating the obvious. The man blushed and pulled his t-shirt over his hard-on to cover it. "Let me take care of it for you." You offered, leaning your body over his and placing your hands on his toned thighs, "I-Its okay-" His warm hands came down to grab your forearms, stopping you. "What? Really? It doesn't look okay," You giggled, looking up between your lashes at him.
Of course, he wanted you to get him off, that sounded perfect, but he needed to properly take care of you first. Your legs were still trembling and you were still out of breath, on top of that he could tell you were tired; that orgasm had taken a lot out of you, so he could wait. "Don't worry about me, I'll go down." He assured, rubbing his hands on your wrists soothingly and making you hum. "I still need to clean you up and make sure you're okay." He finished, making you blush. No man has ever said that to you before, and no man has ever eaten you out before tonight either but you wouldn't tell Choso that right now.
Truthfully, you were feeling tired, and the prospect of Choso cleaning you up didnt sound half bad right now, "Are you sure? It really wont take long." You offered one last time. He smiled and pushed your arms off of his thighs so he could leave the car, "Im sure, some other time." He said boldly, making you nod silently as he opened the car door and stepped out.
You started to do the same but his voice stopped you in your tracks, "Don't move." He ordered, so you didn't. It didn't take long after he shut his own door that he was opening yours, Choso now standing in front of you as he leaned inside the car and scooped you into his arms, making you giggle as he slammed the door behind him. "Choso! I can walk." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he held you in a princess carry.
"Don't wanna take any chances, your legs are still trembling pretty hard." He said, making you blush and want to hide away at his exposing words. "I think you're the sweetest man I'll ever know." You said to him, smiling at his blushing face as he quickly avoided his eyes with yours. He moved his hand to effortlessly type in your door code as he brought the both of you inside, away from the chilly air.
I better be, he wanted to say, but opted to only acknowledge your words with a hum as the front door clicked shut behind the both of you.
#i have a toothache this is too sweet#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#choso x you#choso smut#choso x y/n#choso fluff#choso kamo#kamo choso#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso#jjk choso#choso#choso my beloved#choso x female reader#choso supremacy#choso smau#jjk smau#jujutsu smut#jujutsu kaisen#gojo smut
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Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.
hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖
A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader
[6:00]
Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.
Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.
“Where you... going...”
Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.
Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.
“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.
“Stay... please...”
“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”
“You feel better than blåhaj...”
“...”
It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.
Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.
Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.
Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...
The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.
[12:00]
“Can we eat fries for lunch?”
you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.
“No”
“WHYYYY!”
“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.
okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.
just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.
“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.
What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.
“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.
“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.
“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.
Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.
[18:00]
You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.
“Mushroom”
“Mango”
“Oreo”
“Orange”
“Egg”
“g...”
“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”
“Fucking hell...”
Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.
[23:00]
“Time to sleep.”
“but I want to watch this movie.”
“You can watch it tomorrow.”
“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”
“...Fine.”
(00:00)
Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.
He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.
He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.
He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.
“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.
a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u
#cod imagine#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon riley imagine#cod x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley fluff
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Come Back to Me
Jacaerys Velaryon x reader
Warning(s): Basically porn with little plot. MEGA FLUFF, MEGA ANGST, MAJOR SADNESS + talks of character death, SMUT – 18+ oral (f! receiving), and precious aftercare + pillow talk.
A/N: No thoughts, just grieving smut with Jace. This CHOKEHOLD this character has on me and we’re only one episode into Season 2. I don’t know if I’ll continue to write for Jace, just wanted to share this idea.
He couldn't breathe no matter how hard he tried. The air just refused to enter and fill his lungs as the overwhelming scents of salt and snow continue to remain in his crimson cloak.
You somehow manage to take away all the pain and sadness of grief just by standing beside him. Joining Jacaerys Velaryon on the balcony of your shared room, he just can’t wrap his mind around a calm state amidst the chaos. Briefly touching his shoulder, a long awaited sigh of relief escapes his lips.
“You okay?” You ask.
“I’m fine.” He lies, turning to face you.
Leaning his forehead against your own, the overpowering scent of sea salt and the faint smell of lilies lingers on your skin.
Wrapping his arms around your frame, Jace holds you tight, never wanting to let go. Relishing in your presence, an unwelcome wave of emotions crosses over Jace. Something wild, yet filled with sadness takes over him almost instantly. However, instead of shedding tears, he acts on the other side of what he’s feeling. Jace slowly guides his lips against your earlobe, nipping at the sensitive skin.
“You truly are my guiding light in this world, Y/N. You are the one that I was thinking about when I was riding Bermax home. To have my lips on yours and my thoughts at the door while being lost in you. I want to fuck you until you scream so the whole Palace can hear. To let them know you’re mine.” Jace explains, pulling you closer.
Feeling your breath hitching in the back of your throat, Jace nibbles on your neck, and you surround your arms around his broad shoulders. Picking you up in a swift motion, Jace captures his lips on yours before walking back into the dark room.
Collapsing with the large desk, Jace gently sits you down, his dark brown orbs staring into your own, eager with lust.
“Enlighten me, my Prince. Let me know what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours.” You say, gasping as Jace unties the sash of your trousers.
Smirking in delight, Jace carefully undos the straps of your heels, and slides your trousers down your legs. Basking in your body, his once boyish eyes light up with a devilish intent.
“By the Gods… so sweet for me.” He states.
Running a series of hungry kisses along your legs, you uncontrollably shiver at the sensation. Gripping your hips in his fingers, Jace teases yours throbbing folds with his tongue, knowing how to get you numb.
“That’s my girl.” Jace whispers into your skin.
Closing his mouth around your entrance, Jace props your leg around his shoulder. Swirling his tongue past your opening, a ragged moan escapes your lips, and you run your fingers through his dark locks. Feeling your pulse rise in your fingertips, a strong growl emanates from Jace’s chest, allowing his hunger for your lust to break the very windows of the room.
Leaning your head back, multiple multicolored stars fill the darkness behind your closed lids. Briefly moving your hips against the wooden table, a tingling sensation starts to rise in your core, signaling that you’re reaching your end.
“Jace, please. I can’t…” You beg, scrunching Jace’s dark curls in your fingers.
Reaching up to cup your breast, Jace continues to venture deeper inside of you, determined to taste every inch of you. Suddenly, your legs spasm and you quickly reach your end.
“…Jacaerys…!” You gasp, not caring if anyone hears you.
Jace’s grip around your hips loosens and he crawls up your body, cocooning your shaking form in his arms. Burying your face in his neck, the collective scents of Vermax, water lilies, and the vast ocean being a wonderful distraction from the events going on outside your room.
Gazing at Jace, the two of you erupt in a small moment of laughter and delightful smiles that felt long overdue. Running your fingers through Jace’s locks, you bring his chin up to face you.
“I love you, Jace. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” You address, tracing the outline of his strong face.
“And I you.” He vows, covering you with his cloak.
a/n pt. two ~ oml this man.
#house of the dragon#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon fanfic#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#hotd jacaerys#prince jacaerys#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys valaryon x reader#jacaerys x you#jacareys x y/n#jacareys fic#jacareys velaryon smut#harry collett#george rr martin#game of thrones
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
Dc x Pjo
Part 5
________________________
Diana is seething, she's filled with rage, the lies Bruce fed her?
"I'm very worried for their wellbeing..."
"I miss them very much"
"they're so young, I don't want anything bad to happen to them"
Asshole.
She kicked the door of the justice hall down, startling the kids who had gone back on patrol from trying to find (Name)
"hey what gives?" Flash asks
Superman raised his eyebrow "you left so suddenly, mind telling us where you've been?"
She looks at batman's sidekicks and then at him, while staring him straight in the eyes "the kid is dead" she says
"what?"
A silence washing over the entire room
"the lady who attacked your house, that wasn't an ordinary lady, in the eyes of mortals she may look normal, but in the eyes of divine beings... It's a monster, that monster was an empousa, a poisonous fire breathing monster who feeds on the blood of mortals and divine beings alike" Diana thinks about how she'll explain everything to J'onn later, but figure that he's probably reading her mind right now
Her suspicions are confirmed as J'onn nods at her
"your kid, (Name), they're a demigod, because of that they're a target for monsters, they're gone, eaten, sorry Bruce"
Crap Diana thinks, was she too harsh? She was just too angry
Ignoring the fact Diana just announced Bruce slept with a god, Superman placed his hand on Batman's shoulder "My condolences Bruce"
Everyone was giving their apologies to the bats
She didn't look at the widened eyes of batman's sidekicks, she noticed but chose to ignore the sound of Dick collapsing into a chair, she heard didn't pay attention to the footsteps of Damian who had to run out of the room
Cass stiffened up, she trembled as if resembling a cracking statue, Steph wants to cry, but she knows very well that she doesn't deserve to cry over you, Barbara just- it's like she just stopped working
As much as she feels so cruel right now, she knew it was the only thing that will keep you hidden, if not, they'll keep trying to find you
Green arrow crossed his arms, but it was clear he was disturbed by the death of a 12 year old kid "Diana, please elaborate"
"Bruce here, had intercourse with a god, that led to (Name) being born, monsters attack demigods, people who are half god half human such as myself, without proper protection monsters kill demigods easily, and (Name) suffered that fate, monsters attack demigods while they're young and tasty and leave them alone as they grow older, they don't feed usually on humans, just animals and demigods"
It seemed like Batman or more appropriately for this situation Bruce wasn't even listening, his mind still stuck at the announcement of your death
"If it'd make you feel better, you can take a break for a while... I know what it's like to lose family, we all do, let yourself grieve Batman, you might be a hardcore vigilante but you're still a father" (to everyone but name) Barry suggests
Starfire has been trying to calm Dick down, his breathing has become irregular and unstable, switching between deep and short breaths
_________________________
Jon runs after Damian, it looked like any second, the unbeatable demon spawn fell to his knees
"Damian! Are you okay!?" Jon asks
"I-i thought it'd only last a few days... Maybe a week if they're incompetent, or maybe months if we're unlucky" Damian started to cough
He took off his robin mask and took a deep breath "Since there was no body, I was fine, I thought they're okay, maybe a few injuries here and there, but they're alive so it's fine, but- the reason there was no body... Was because she was eaten- by stupid, how'd -" Jon didn't know what to do, between the both of them, Damian was the composed one
Then two of his siblings came, Jason and Tim
"what the fuck? Demon spawn?" Jason was surprised, and immediately glared at Jon, accusingly looking at him for making his brother this way
Jon put his up defensively "I didn't do anything, promise, I'm trying to comfort him!"
Tim knelt down with Damian "what happened?"
"(Name) is dead"
And suddenly it feels like nothing matters anymore
____________________________
"okay! And this'll be your bed!" Selina ended the tour of the cabin
Selena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite, she was your sister, Gosh you have a sister! And she was nice! She wasn't like Cass who for some reason, closed her eyes everytime you tried to communicate with her
Barbara pretended to be busy, too busy, what do you mean you have to work? Didn't your workplace get burned down by two-face two days ago?
Steph- at least she was honest, she straight up told you she' didn't want anything to do with you
A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes walked out of the bathroom, a nice change from the black and blue eyes you're used to
"hey! You're our new sister! The one who was flirting with that Hephaestus kid-"
"Aster! (Name) Told me they were just friends and if they were flirting what's wrong with that? Love is love" Selena came to your rescue
Aster tilted his head confused with the way you're shifting "what's wrong?" He asked
"aren't people in Greek mythology who are named after flowers turn into them?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers
With that some of your siblings who are in their respective spaces burst out laughing and Aster is hugging you laughing whilst explaining that in Greek mythology "the people came first, not the flower"
That seemed to calm you down a bit, then another girl, whose name is Drew spoke up "so (Name) who's your mortal parent?"
You freeze up at this question but the other kids seemed normal about it
"don't worry (Name) it's some game we play, cause mom's standards are high, we compare mortal parents" Another one one your brothers said, his name is Castillo, he had a faded hair color of blue to purple that reminded you of Ramona flowers
(this is actually canon in Pjo, lmao)
He continued "my father was a famous k-pop idol" he bragged
A little girl then shouted "My dad was a model for Designer clothing!"
Selena rolled her eyes "So whose your dad (Name)?"
You didn't want to answer that, but at the same time- this is the first sibling playing you've ever been in, you're included here!
"my dad is Bruce Wayne... You can look me up on Google- but he, he really wasn't the best- umm dad"
"THE BRUCE WAYNE?" Someone gasps
"i thought his name was Brucie?"
You hear in the background
"I didn't know he was an asshole" Aster muttered
"come on bro, the guy parties all day and he's with children, how could you ever think that guy's a good father?" Castillo shrugs his shoulders
"that's okay (Name), a lot of mom's lovers are vain, taking it too seriously in their heads that they slept with the goddess of beauty, that's why mom stopped revealing herself, there are rare moments, but they're rare" another sister of yours says
You honestly feel so at home here...
________________________
I'm now realizing that the "Neglected daughter" fandom is literally so small, I just saw like three of my readers in another fic I was reading XD
Let's support each other!!!! :3
Also the characters without description are canon characters, people who are actually in pjo
The one with descriptions are OC's!
So Drew and Selena are canon characters! :3
Callisto and Aster aren't
I hope you enjoy the chapter!
@wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @nathaly36 @delias-stuff @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7
#dc universe#percy jackon and the olympians#dcu#percy jackson#percy pjo#yandere platonic#yandere batfam#yandere#warmyanderepjoxdc
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Lando finding a pregnancy test reader hid and gets angry because he think she doesn’t want a baby with him but she’s just waiting for a custom made McLaren baby race suit to surprise him with the good news
Warnings: angst, swearing, happy ending, pregnancy, mentions of cheating
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
“Y/N!” Lando yelled up the stairs as you peeked your head round the door, a little confused why Lando sounded angry. He shouted a bit sometimes, but not because he was angry, angry, just…for fun usually. “Yeah?” you asked, walking down the stairs.
“Explain,” he said, thrusting the pregnancy test at your chest. That one word alone made your face pale as you fumbled to catch the test. “I…uh…” he didn’t even let you finish. “So? What is it? You cheated or you don’t want it?”.
You weren’t even concerned with the second part, but the mere mention of you cheating on him made you just as angry. “Cheat? You think I’d cheat?” you scoffed, “you’re more likely to-,” you were cut off. “Oh defensive much? I didn’t say you cheated, I asked, but you clearly did, then!”.
“Im not a cheater, Lando,” you scoffed. “Who’s baby is it, Y/N?” Lando snapped, not ready to listen to hear you out, he was pissed. “You’re a fucking cheater, Y/N,” he said, his voice sing-song, as if mocking you in some sorts as you scoffed.
“It’s yours, you idiot!” you said, yelling over his voice as he rolled his eyes. “I don’t care what you think you can say to me,” Lando said, his voice still sing-song, “you’re mocking me with your lies, Y/N Y/L/N,” Lando said sarcastically.
“I was waiting for a fucking order to tell you, you’re just a dick, Lando Norris!”. That made Lando pause. “I…what?” There was a second of silence as Lando’s expression fell. “It was some stupid McLaren baby shit thing,” you mumbled, “to surprise you,”.
“Im so sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes wide as he looked down, almost embarrassed. “It’s fine,” you sighed. You didn’t have the energy to fight him right now. “Don’t accuse me of…of cheating next time, alright?” you said, a little weakly as he nodded firmly. “Never,” he agreed.
“I…oh my god,” Lando gulped, “baby I’m so dumb,” he swallowed slowly, eyes wide, “fuck, Y/N,” he took a shaky step towards you. You weren’t happy Lando had accused you of cheating but this was a big moment nevertheless.
“Im not mad,” you said quietly, moving his hands from your face to your stomach, his face softening, “I love you, and it’s yours, okay?” you said quietly. “I love you so fucking much,” he said, his eyes wide before he brought his lips to yours.
“My baby’s having a baby,” he mumbled into your lips as you laughed weakly. “I guess so,” you smiled.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando x reader#f1#lando norris smut
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𝜗𝜚 Cradle Song.
Spencer Reid x Pregnant!reader
Summary: The situation is complicated when Spencer is trapped in a lab with anthrax and worried about communicating with you and his future child one last time.
Words: 2,4k.
Warnings & Tags: mentions of death, therapy. spoilers for s4 e24 ("amplification"). anthrax. established relationship. angst with a open ending. implication that the baby is a girl. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I wrote this after posting my first two one shots here (several months ago), and now I just found the uncorrected text and decided to improve it for posting lol for you to mentally decide if it's a happy or sad ending, because I could never write one that I really liked.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
Your phone rang somewhere in the room, but you had no idea where. In the distance, you could hear the classical symphony by Johannes Brahms that your boyfriend had chosen especially for you, with the excuse that it would calm you and the baby every time it played.
Unfortunately, this time it wasn't helping to calm you down.
After tossing and turning around the room several times, you sat up in bed, completely exhausted and hopeless. That's when you felt the noise nearby and realized that the phone under your pillow was vibrating nonstop. You were about to snort with stress from being so distracted lately, but an automatic smile appeared on your face when you saw that it was a call from Spencer. You hadn't heard from him in several hours, the last being his usual call to wish you a good morning every time he was away on a case.
“I think I'd lose my head if I didn't have it attached to my neck.” Was the first thing you said as you tried to tuck your pillow behind your neck to make yourself more comfortable.
“You've lost your phone again.” You heard him let out a small, weak laugh, followed by a cough that caught your attention and made you frown. “Sorry, I got stuck.” He quickly excused himself.
“Are you okay?”
In response to your question, he looked around the lab where he was confined, focusing on the broken vial of anthrax on the floor that had caused all his problems so far. Reid didn't know how to explain that an ordinary case had turned into a national problem that was taking over his life and future moments with you with every passing second.
And he certainly knew even less how to tell you that this would probably be the last time you would hear from him if the team didn't find a cure soon.
“I'm fine.” He lied immediately, feeling his breathing getting harder and harder. “Really, love.” He tried to reassure you, but he lost his balance and leaned heavily on the counter, his free hand gripping it hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
All you had to do was hear him call you that and your whole world would light up, you could even feel the baby in your belly kicking at the sound of his voice. You smiled as you realized that you were both happy to hear from Spencer after not seeing him for most of the day due to the demands of his job.
Although you've never said it out loud for fear of making him feel guilty, you miss him excessively, and you're always trying to multitask and be productive, so you don't think as much about how much you need him by your side. Especially when dinner time comes and his seat next to you is empty, or when night comes and his side of the bed is cold.
Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, but you seemed to have a stronger need for him than ever.
“And how did you feel today? How are my girls? Did she kick a lot today?” The usual questions he asked you every time he was on a long case began to appear. “I need to hear everything.”
“She just kicks a lot when she listens to you and you know it.” You replied, stroking your belly out of laziness. “She’s definitely a daddy's little princess.”
The lump in his throat and all of his fears became more intense and uncontrollable. The tears he had tried to keep from escaping to stay strong and focused began to flow unchecked down his cheeks. Hearing you talk like that, knowing it might be the last time, was killing him much faster than the anthrax itself.
“And what are you doing? All your agent stuff?” You spoke again at his silence, trying to ignore the bad feeling something was giving you. “Are you coming home soon?”
“I don't think that's possible, love.” He replied quickly, his voice hoarse and raspy, the lie slipping from his lips almost too easily. “I'm doing some paperwork, it'll take some time.”
It was the second time he had called you by that nickname in just a few minutes. Something seemed a little off, as he only used it when he wanted to calm you down. You knew him too well to miss it.
“Oh, okay.” You said it in a way that showed you were a little disappointed.
Spencer was about to try to comfort you when he suddenly felt the cough return to his throat and he put a hand over his mouth to stop it. It was no use, the cough shook his whole body, spinning him around and making him pant in between. He tried to cover the phone with his hand so that the sounds coming out of his mouth would not be heard, but it was useless. The hacking cough seemed to tear at his lungs, leaving him breathless, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and he could only hope you didn't hear it, because the last thing he wanted to do was worry you. He knew it would hurt you and the baby.
“Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should drink some water. It sounds pretty bad.”
He tried to answer you right away, but the cough took over and prevented him from speaking. He gripped the phone tightly, struggling to breathe, trying to force his lungs to stop spasming. And when he finally stopped coughing, he managed to speak, his voice cracking and rather hoarse.
“Yes, I'm fine. It's probably just a cold.” He lied again, breathing shakily. “But it’s nothing so bad.”
“Take care of yourself, don't let it get worse.”
If only you knew that there was no way to make it worse, that it was already at its worst point and unlikely to improve.
“I will, don't worry.��� He tries to sound convincing, but his voice comes out rough and raw, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coughing again. “Just focus on you and the baby, okay? I'll be fine.”
He spoke again so quickly that it was difficult to think of an appropriate response.
“Could you do something for me, love?”
“Of course, I'll do whatever you need.” You reply, feeling a little perplexed by the urgency in his voice.
There was a long, awkward silence after you answered, and you could feel your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. You had a feeling that Spencer was holding something back from you, and the thought of what it could be made your left leg start to twitch nervously. You didn't even bother trying to make yourself more comfortable in bed.
“Go to my part of the closet, to the top drawer. Open it and take out a box next to the socks.” Finally he spoke and began to give you instructions, which you followed as best you could. “Let me know when you have it, carefully. Don't rush or-”
“I've already got it.” You interjected.
“That was quick.” You heard the surprise in his voice as you looked at the box, curious to know what was inside, after having seen it several times and thinking it was just more socks.
You smiled before speaking again. “What should I do with this, love?”
The mere word coming out of your mouth made him tremble.
Love. Love. Love.
He was your love and you were his. He refused to accept that this would be completely shattered in a matter of minutes if he could not find a way to keep his eyes open and his heart still pumping blood.
“I need you to open it, but be careful. Take your time and don't rush. Don't make any sudden movements.” He said, trying to relax so that when he spoke again his voice would be calmer, softer. “And once you open it, I want you to imagine that I'm there with you, okay?”
You couldn't help but open the box quickly, even though you were careful. You were surprised to find a bunch of envelopes and papers inside. You left them on the bed, wondering what they were about. It had been five months since you knew you were pregnant, and all the envelopes and papers were the same age according to the dates in the top corner.
“Have you seen it yet?” Spencer asked.
“I'm sorry, I don't understand, could you explain what this is?” You asked, carefully running your hand through the neatly organized papers on the bed.
“Could you close your eyes and imagine I'm with you, like I told you before?” He asked, trying to keep a neutral tone as you complied with his request.
He needed you to see him there with you, he needed to say goodbye and at least touch you one last time.
“That's what I'm doing. I'm holding your hand right now.” You said with a small smile, feeling the warmth.
It was like feeling an automatic medicine with your name on it flow through his system and relieve a few aches and pains. His hands stopped shaking automatically as he imagined himself holding yours again.
“Okay…they are notes and letters.” His voice was soft, the intensity of his heartbeat gradually increasing as he remembered each time he wrote those words to you. “I started writing them when we found out you were pregnant. They're for our baby.”
He still remembered the day he found out you were expecting a baby, his baby. He recalled how he felt his whole world stop and turn a different color, his hand sliding down to your stomach, and his breath hitching in his chest as he held your face in his hands and kissed you lovingly, overwhelmed with joy and so in love that he hadn't known what to do with his own feelings.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I...I found myself writing frequently and my therapist said it was fine…I was inspired to write about my feelings for you and our baby."
From the moment he revealed to you that he had resumed therapy with the goal of healing the wounds of childhood and becoming the father he never had, it was clear that his dedication surpassed any commitment. Now you just added to the list of reasons why he was already an exemplary father, one that any child would be lucky to have.
“Spencer, this is so sweet.” You said, completely moved and on the verge of tears, as you noticed all the dedication I had put into each and every piece of paper. “Why didn't you tell me this before?”
He felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him at that moment. It was so hard to explain, to tell you that every thought and every dream he'd ever had included you and the baby now growing in your belly, and his great fear of not being able to be there for you someday.
“I-” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I just wanted you to know now how much you mean to me and how blessed I am that you gave this to me. I've spent the last few months trying to even talk to some kind of God, and I don't even know if exist...” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, the words lost somewhere in his throat, making it burn and hurt. “I just...I need the baby to know what you and her mean to me, how I see you, how I feel when I wake up next to you. What I want, what I dream for her, what...”
I want to marry you.
The thought almost escaped his lips, his aching heart pounding hard against his aching chest. He felt as if a pair of strong hands were strangling him.
“I don't understand...Tell me what's going on.” You interrupted him with a shaking voice, knowing that there was definitely something more to all of this.
Oh, how you know him and his big, messy, troubled brain.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, though you couldn't see it, knowing that you already read him like an open book.
“Nothing...Nothing's wrong, love, just...” He tried to breathe deeply through the phone, his heart pounding in his chest and his mind racing too fast. “I love you so much. Don't forget that, okay?”
“Spencer—”
He always loved your voice calling his name, and now, in his weak, tired, fearful state, he couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.
“I want you to know that you'll be okay, that she'll be okay, that everything will be okay, and that I love you. I love you both very much. Please, please...” He kept going. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't stop. His mind was racing, and his words came out like a confession.
He was an expert profiler, a genius with an eidetic memory and a sharp mind, but at that moment, with his body weakened and his head spinning, he found himself unable to contain himself. He was exposed, open, and experiencing discomfort. All of the things he wanted to tell you, all of the questions he wanted to ask, and all of the concerns, worries, and thoughts in his mind came pouring out, like a dam breaking. He sensed that you could feel it through the line, and he realized that he could no longer deny it any longer.
“I love you. I have to go now.”
“Wait.”
You had a feeling something wasn't quite right, and those letters seemed to confirm your suspicions. They were a precautionary measure, a way of ensuring that everything would be taken care of in case something happened to him.
“I have to go, I'm...I'm busy, love.” He tried to sound convincing, and he knew he was failing miserably, but if he stayed a moment longer, he would continue to talk and confess more. “I love you both.”
“We love you too.”
If he wasn't already weak and trembling, hearing your voice telling him that you loved him, in that soft tone, would have made him fall to the floor again. He closed his eyes again and leaned against the wall, his own trembling hand going to cover his mouth so he wouldn't say more, because he would tell you everything if you kept talking in that sweet tone.
He wasn't ready to say goodbye.
So it was that he thought of you and your kind way of loving him before he felt his head hit the floor and his eyes close.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#matthew gray gubler
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summary a pair of arms and a woody scent
this is my first time writing for abby...... kinda nervous ngl
enjoy !
☆
a pair of arms wrap around your waist. a woody scent make it's way to your nostrils.
"hey" you murmur, your eyes too heavy to bear the effort of opening them.
"hey" she says, her head positioning itself in the hollow of your shoulder and neck, fitting as if it were custom made "didn't mean to wake you up"
in the dark, your fingers find their way to her hand, feeling her skin "what time is it?"
"two in the morning" abby replies as fast as she can so she can hear your voice as soon as possible "i got distracted playing videogames with lev"
abby feels the need to explain her absence, not because you control her, but because she loves you. she wants you to know where she is at all times, what time she is coming, what she is doing and what she is not doing. she feels the need to include you in even the most boring details of her life.
"how is he?"
"he's fine" her lips make contact with your bare shoulder, leaving a soft kiss on your skin "how was your night?"
abby is aware that it's two in the morning and that maybe what you need right now is sleep, not to have a talk with her, but she decides to give herself the luxury of being selfish for one night and keep you awake.
you turn around, face to face with the blonde girl. her distinctive braid is half undone, fine blonde hairs glistening in the dim light of the bedside table, escaping from her braid and daring to dwell on abby's face.
"it was fine. i didn't do much" your fingertips kiss abby's cheek, watching as she closes her eyes at your touch "i was going to wait for you but i guess i fell asleep" you say, a giggle escaping your lips.
abby reciprocates your grace and smiles, her eyes distracted by the way your lips look freshly awake; full, swollen "it's okay. i'm here now"
abby finally satisfies her need and kisses your lips softly. it feels like it's been years since the last time.
"can we sleep now?" you murmur, the wind of your words crashing against her lips.
she nods and lies back between the sheets, feeling the warmth of your body the instant your head makes contact with her chest. once again, her arms wrap around your body and provide the warmth you need to fall into an intense sleep.
abby hasn't washed her face, brushed her teeth, or even taken off the jeans she's wearing, but she thinks she can handle all that if the reward is having you by her side for one more night.
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The night of the events of Starcourt, Steve lies about his parents being home because he doesn't want to impose on anyone else. So he says his parents are waiting for him back home and Joyce drops him off to get some rest.
Steve gets home and immediately realizes it's a horrible idea, he's concussed, confused, alone, scared, and in pain.
He panics and ends up walking through the woods alone where Wayne finds him when he's getting home from work.
Wayne freaks out over the injured sailor boy that looks like he hasn't slept in days and who is confused about how he got there.
He convinces Steve to come in for coffee, but when they get inside Steve starts looking around fascinated by every little trinket. he ends up in Eddie's room,
"Where am I?" he wonders and even through the questions and fears it makes Wayne chuckle,
"This is my nephew's room" He answers looking at Steve walk around with stars in his eyes at the mess.
"He must be really cool," he tells Wayne.
Wayne nods and smirks but then Steve catches his own reflection in the mirror,
"is that me? Jesus no wonder you look so worried, I look like shit"
And he says something that breaks Wayne's heart a little, "I'm sorry," and he looks so sad too, and so honest like he really thinks him not looking okay is a problem for Wayne. Like Wayne would get mad at him for not being 'presentable'.
"I should leave," Steve says.
Wayne raises his arms in mock surrender,
"Woah, no kid, it's fine, you don't look that bad, I was only worried because you look tired. When was the last time you slept?"
Steve thinks for a while and frowns, "I don't remember..."
"Why don't you rest here in this cool room," Wayne asks him with a kind smile, "and then will get that coffee, ok?"
Steve agrees and falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.
Wayne sighs and leaves the room, he sits on the couch and sees on the tv the news about the fire.
It's an explanation, not the whole truth but it's something. Clearly, Steve was there but that doesn't explain the bruises, the confusion, the fear. He feels like something else might be going on.
And why on gods earth was that kid all alone?
Eventually, he falls asleep too.
.
So when Eddie gets home from spending the night at Jeff's after a gig, he finds his uncle sleeping on the couch and doesn't find it weird at all, he tiptoes to his room for a change of clothes and there he finds the fucking former king of hawkings wearing the skimpiest sailor uniform sleeping on his bed, and for a second he thinks 'is it my birthday?' but then Steve turns in his sleep and Eddie sees his face and thinks 'shit'
He is instantly worried, no matter how much he dislikes jocks, no one deserves to be brutalized like that.
And to ruin that beautiful face? A crime.
Once more he tiptoes into the hallway and goes where his uncle is slowly waking up. He gets close, real close so when Wayne opens his eyes the first thing he sees is Eddie blinking at him.
Wayne jumps a little and bites back a curse, "Jesus kid!"
Eddie chuckles, "Sorry, Wayne. Might telling me about the little sailor in my bed?"
Wayne sighs and tells him.
.
When Steve wakes up a bit later is to the sound of Eddie's acoustic. He's sitting in his desk chair, plucking a sweet and soft melody,
"Morning goldilocks," he tells him with a smile.
Steve, who had a bunch of excuses and apologies lined up already frowns, and inclines his head, "Goldilocks?"
"I found you sleeping in my bed, didn't I?" Eddie answers sweetly.
Steve blushes, he can't help it, and once more instead of getting up and leaving he gets distracted by Eddie's whole deal.
"I'm not even blond" he argues.
Eddie bows his head at him, as if to say he got him there, but then says,
"You have locks of hair that look golden in the sun, goldilocks"
Steve really hopes the bruises cover his blush, he really, really hopes. But judging from Eddie's smile, he can't tell it's not the case.
"I should leave," he says moving slowly to the edge of the bed.
Eddie places his guitar on the desk and turns to fully look at him, "You don't have to. If you don't want to," he points to something on the bottom of the bed, "Look, clean clothes and my fluffiest towel, why don't you take a shower and then we drink that coffee my uncle promised?"
And Steve’s heart hurts with how much he wants that. He doesn't want to be alone, he wants to stay here with the kind wonderful man he met last night and Eddie, who played guitar for him while he slept and thinks his hair is golden, but still...
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose"
Eddie snorts and mouthes 'impose' to himself before leaning closer and looking Steve in the eyes,
"I'm sure, Goldie. Go, shower. I'll go put the kettle on"
And steve can't do much more than nod and smile shyly at him.
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Ellie wasn't born a Halfa
So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.
A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.
Because the kid was glowing.
When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.
(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)
When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.
"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."
And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.
"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"
"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."
Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!
"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"
She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.
"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".
For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.
It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.
"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."
"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."
"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.
"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."
"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.
"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."
Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!
The Pits perked up
He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.
"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."
She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.
"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.
The Pits felt a sense of dread
Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"
"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."
No...
Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.
"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."
NO.
He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.
"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."
...
For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.
...
Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.
Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.
And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.
Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.
When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.
#Dpxdc#Dp x dc#Dcxdp#Dc x dp#Danny Phantom#Dc#Dcu#Dani Phantom#Danielle Phantom#Ellie Phantom#Ellie is younger#Vlad decided to try his experiment the moment she was old enough to feasibly survive#The Pits are not seperate from Jason#They are actually his Ghost Half (aka his emotional half) shining through#Jason is a Halfa#He doesn't know that though#After they finish their conversation Jason asks Dp if she wants a name#She says yes and eventually he calls her Stella#Or Ellie for short#Cause she is his little starlight#Danny is unaware that Ellie exists#I wonder what happened with him#Maybe he is living his life back in Amity?#Maybe he is on the run because the “real danny” showed up with Vlad claiming that he had been replaced by an Imposter Ghost#And his Parents instantly believed him because Vlad is claiming that he has been no contact for so long trying to save “the real danny”#Maybe Jason finds a second glowing kid hiding behind a dumpster?#And maybe he realizes that this is his daughter's older brother?#Is that what happens?#Well maybe it is#But that's between Me and my crippling inability to finish my Part 2's
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As a follow up to you post about mentors, just to make things fair, what are examples of Tikki being a bad mentor to Marinette?
Post in question for context.
Tikki often acts as the voice of the author. She's there to explain why Marinette is in the wrong. Since Miraculous has some wacky morals, that means we get a mix of good advice and wacky nonsense advice.
Two examples of bad advice that come to mind are Gamer and Strikeback. Gamer is the episode where Marinette stumbles upon an Ultimate Mecha Strike tournament, realizes that Adrien is taking part, and decides to compete so they can be on a team together. Marinette wins a spot through her own hard won skills and then this happens:
Tikki: All you wanted to do is spend time with Adrien, there are other ways to do that! Marinette: What are you getting at? Tikki: You know how much Max wanted to be in that tournament. Kim said he'd been training for it all year. Marinette: You're right. All I could think about was Adrien.
This is how tournaments work, right? They're not tests of skill, but tests of who put in the most work or who wants to compete the most! That's why we had that scene with Marinette writing out her training schedule and motivations for evaluation, but she lied and that was wrong and...
Okay, I was the one lying here. There was no written evaluation because that's not how tournaments work. All anyone cares about is your skills. They don't care if you're doing this for personal glory or to get closer to a boy or whatever Adrien's motivation was because - notably - his motivation didn't matter in this episode about needing pure motives to be allowed to do things.
What if he didn't care about the competition and only did it to get closer to his classmates? That's not even a random guess. It's a valid read because Adrien ultimately gives his spot to Max while claiming that Max is the better player even though Adrien very clearly beat Max at the start of the episode. Ignoring that weird nonsense dialogue, why was it fine for Adrien to compete when he didn't care but wrong for Marinette to do the same? And Max wanting to compete to show off his skills is also a totally selfish motivation, so why does it matter that he wanted it more? Everything about this episode was nonsense and uncomfortably sexist. If Max wants to compete, then he needs to get better at the game. That's how competitions work.
Strikeback is the second part of the season four final and it starts with Marinette mourning the fact that "Adrien" has left Paris, leading to this:
Marinette: (crestfallen) It's all over, Tikki. Tikki: He'll be back, Marinette. He's just going on a voyage!
Which would be lovely advice if Adrien was a normal boy, but he's Chat Noir and Tikki knows that. She should be freaking out and trying to find a way to get him back to Paris, but then Tikki would have to support Marinette's actions and we can't have that, so instead Tikki gives this nonsense advice because she has to be against whatever "wrong" thing Marinette is doing today.
I could come up with a few more examples, but I think those two paint a pretty good picture of issue one re Tikki. However, when it comes to Tikki, my main issue with her is less a wealth of bad advice - unlike Plagg*, I think she's right more often than not - and more a lack of support. It feels like she's just here to judge Marinette and point out when she's doing something wrong, but a good mentor should be so much more than that.
Kuro Neko is a great example of this. When Chat Noir quits, Tikki just sits back and does nothing while her young charge is freaking out. She doesn't even try to defend Marinette when Plagg is going off about Chat Noir's "ill treatment". For all Plagg's faults in that episode, at least he's doing something about the situation. Meanwhile Tikki literally has two lines in the entire episode! A similar thing happens in Kwami's Choice where Plagg is the one driving them to act while Tikki just wrings her hands in despair.
Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do? Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must… free them of us.
These are not the actions of a mentor. Mentors aren't supposed to just offer judgement about things that their mentee has already done or is considering doing. They're supposed to be a source of support and guidance in hard times, but we never really see Tikki stepping in to give Marinette that kind of advice. If memory serves, she never offers solutions or acts as a sounding board. That role is mainly filled by Alya and I love Alya! It's good for Marinette to have support from a friend, but Alya is also a teenager while Tikki is an ancient being who has seen many Ladybugs go through the kind of struggles that Marinette is going through. I expect her to use that knowledge to help her charge, but she never does. This exchange from Passion perfectly highlights this problem:
Tikki: Don't worry, Plagg... my holder has decided to run away from her real feelings to pursue an impossible love with Cat Noir instead. Plagg: Uh, just to be sure, sugarcube, you do know that Cat Noir and my holder are one and the same person, right? Tikki: I do, but my holder doesn't. Plagg: If she declares her love to Cat Noir, something tells me she'll find out soon enough. Tikki: You have nothing to fear. When my holder is in love, she never gets anywhere. She'll just knit hats and make very complicated plans that will never come to fruition. Plagg: Hmm... ah, then everything's fine.
Tikki, I love you, but by the gods! With a mentor like you, Marinette doesn't need enemies to be miserable! Do you care about her at all??? What kind of mentor delights at their mentee's suffering? Not a good one, that's for sure.
*Quick note: I think that Plagg and Tikki are probably neck and neck for who has given the most bad advice, Plagg just feels like the bigger problem because we don't see him as much as we see Tikki. Since she's tied to the main character, Tikki gives advice in almost every episode and most episodes have decent morals.
Adrien's need for good advice can also feel more glaring because he's so isolated and passive. That makes Plagg's lack of good advice feel more harmful, but Marinette is just as isolated from real advice. Her mentor figures - Su Han, Fu, and Tikki - mostly give orders and judgement instead of support and guidance. It's just harder to spot that fact because Marinette is actively trying to do the right thing, meaning that she's more likely to make mistakes, and it's easy to see why she comes across as a lot less pathetic and a lot easier to judge.
#ml writing critical#ml writing salt#adrien deserves better#marinette deserves better#Tikki deserves better#plagg deserves better#red-balloon12#mentor salt
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”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.
The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—
Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.
He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.
But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.
I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.
Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.
“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”
“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.
If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.
Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?
“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”
Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.
Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.
“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”
Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.
He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.
“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.
The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”
His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.
I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…
Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.
“The shire, then,” Steve says.
Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”
“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”
And they do.
Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.
He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…
“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.
“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”
“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.
It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.
There’s no rush.
#on struggling with the aftermath#the trust in falling asleep in front of someone ❤️#this may have a second part#a lil anxiety soothing stuff ❤️#pre steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 2
Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader
"𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦,"
summary: as time progressed, Joel notice something's wrong and then at one night, You stood at his door, looking disheveled and distressed, your face streaked with tears and your clothes rumpled.
warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.
CHAPTER 2
masterlist of the series!
previous | chapter one
next | chapter three
Saturday arrived with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake. The dinner invitation at Tommy and Maria's hung over your head like a dark cloud. Joel had decided to come, partly due to Ellie and Tommy's insistence, and also because it was a chance to catch up with your family, the Gibsons.
The aftermath of last Sunday's beating from your father for abandoning your duty at church service had left you changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a quiet resilience. Your body was still sore, the bruises and scars not fully healed, making even the simplest movements painful.
You worried some of the wounds might be infected, as you had been running a high fever and coughing for days. Your mother was concerned but too scared to take you to the hospital. In this small town, everyone knew each other, and a trip to the doctor would raise questions. Your family's reputation, especially with your father being the town preacher, was paramount. So, your mother did her best to care for you at home, but it wasn't enough.
You still went to school, hiding your condition under oversized sweaters. You had no close friends, just a few acquaintances, but you were well-known as one of the prettiest girls and the preacher's daughter. Boys liked you, always trying to get close, but you kept your distance. One day at school, Ellie noticed you didn't look well and asked if you were sick. You lied, saying you were fine.
"You sure? You don't look so good," Ellie said, her eyes filled with concern.
"I'm fine, Ellie, really. Just tired from studying for finals," you replied, forcing a smile.
Ellie frowned, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will," you promised, though you weren't sure if it was a promise you could keep.
As one of the smartest students, your teachers noticed your decline and sent you to the school's psychologist. The psychologist observed your physical and mental changes, but you lied again, blaming sleepless nights spent preparing for graduation.
As your family prepared to go to the Millers, you told your mother you might not be able to go because your body was still sore. The scars hadn't healed, and you worried about infection. You'd had a high fever for days.
"Mama, I don't think I can go tonight. My body still hurts so much," you said, your voice weak.
Your mother, worried but too afraid to confront your father, insisted you come. "You know your father will be angry if you don't come. It's better if you come, even if you're not feeling well," she said, her voice trembling.
Reluctantly, you agreed. For the first time in a while, you applied makeup to cover the bruises on your skin, arms, and the corners of your eyes and cheeks. Your father reminded you to behave, to maintain decorum as a preacher's daughter, and not to embarrass him.
"Remember, you represent this family. Behave yourself and don't cause any trouble," your father said sternly.
"Yes, Father," you replied, obedient as always, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. The weight of his expectations bore down on you, threatening to crush the fragile strength you had left.
At Tommy and Maria's house, Joel and Ellie were already there. Your family arrived at their front door, your mother's grip on the pasta dish tightening as if it were a lifeline.
Maria opened the door with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of your family. "Oh, Evelyn! Father Gibson! It's so good to see you all. Come in, come in!"
Your mother returned the smile, albeit a bit strained. "Thank you, Maria. We brought some pasta for adding some to the dishes."
"Oh, Evelyn, this pasta looks amazing. Thank you so much," Maria said, taking the dish and placing a gentle hand on your mother's arm. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."
"It's no trouble at all," your mother replied, her voice soft. "It's the least we could do."
Maria led you all inside, the house filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. You stepped in and immediately met Ellie.
"Hey, how are you? You didn't look so good at school the other day," she said, her voice full of concern.
"I'm okay, just a bit under the weather," you lied, trying to sound convincing.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Ellie asked again, her eyes narrowing with worry. "You really didn't look well. Are you getting enough rest?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying for finals."
Ellie wasn't convinced but nodded. "Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know, okay? We can study together if that helps."
"Thank you, Ellie. I appreciate it," you said, grateful for her concern but knowing you had to keep your secrets hidden.
Maria, finishing her conversation with your mother, turned her attention to you. "Sweetheart, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?"
In front of your parents, you forced another smile. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired," you said, your voice steady but hollow.
Your mother quickly added to the lie, her voice filled with false cheerfulness. "Oh, you know Maria. She's almost graduate and been working so hard on her studies. It's just stress, really, right honey?" You nodded to your mother.
Your father, ever the manipulator, chimed in with a practiced smile. "She's fine, just been studying hard for her finals. Nothing to worry about."
Maria looked unconvinced but didn't press further. It was just another sad reminder of the facade your family maintained, the preacher's household hiding its cracks beneath a veneer of perfection.
You moved further into the house, your father's charm offensive continuing as he greeted Tommy. "Tommy, good to see you! How's everything going?"
"Going well, Tony. Just keeping busy with the business and this little guy," Tommy said, gesturing to his newborn son, Luke.
"He's adorable," you said, managing a genuine smile as you looked at the baby. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders lightened.
"Thank you," Tommy said proudly. "He's a handful, but we're loving every minute."
As you continued to mingle, you felt Joel's eyes on you. He was helping Tommy with the food, but his concern was palpable. He approached you, his expression serious.
You smiled at Joel, remembering the last time you interacted with him by the lake. That memory was a rare bright spot amidst the pain your father had caused after it.
"Hey, Joel. Good to see you here," you said, wondering why he decided to come. You tried to lighten the mood, despite the pain radiating through your body with every movement. The fabric of your clothes rubbed against your skin, irritating the unhealed scars, but you did your best to endure it.
"Ellie and Tommy wouldn't take no for an answer," Joel replied, his tone a mix of annoyance and warmth.
You chuckled softly, though the motion sent a sharp pain through your ribs. "They can be pretty persuasive."
Joel's eyes softened slightly, but his concern remained. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying. It's near my graduation, and I have to prepare for the finals."
Joel's eyes lingered on you, taking in the pallor of your skin and the dark circles under your eyes. "You look sick. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. Joel was a man of few words, often letting his actions speak for him. His gruff exterior hid a deeply protective nature, one that he rarely showed to anyone. "I'm okay, really. Just a bit run down," you replied, trying to sound convincing.
Joel frowned, clearly not convinced, but he decided to lighten the mood. "So, how's school going? When are the big finals?"
You forced a smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, finals are coming up. Lots of studying and late nights."
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "I remember those days. Ellie gives me a hard time about studying too. But she's a smart kid, just like you."
"Thanks, Joel," you said softly, appreciating his attempt to comfort you. You cracked a small joke, trying to lighten the mood. "I just hope I don't end up like a zombie by the end of it."
Joel chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. He noticed how you occasionally winced and shifted your weight, clearly in pain. "You sure everything's okay at home?" he asked gently.
"Everything's great," you lied, remembering your father's stern warning. "Just the usual stress of school and stuff."
Joel's concern deepened, but he didn't push further. But before Joel could probe further, your father suddenly joined the conversation, his presence commanding attention.
"Joel, good to see you," he said with a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"
Joel straightened, his demeanor shifting. "Just catching up, Reverend."
Your father chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Joel, we’re at dinner. Call me Tony. We’re friends, remember?"
"Sure, Tony," Joel said, though the familiarity felt forced.
"How's the construction business going, Joel?" your father asked, his tone amiable.
"Busy as always," Joel replied, his eyes drifting back to you occasionally. "But it's good. Keeps me occupied."
Your father nodded, pretending to be interested. "That's great to hear. We should get together sometime, reminisce about the old days."
Joel's gaze met yours briefly, and you felt a flutter of something in your chest. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, his voice lacking enthusiasm but polite nonetheless.
As they continued to talk, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, feeling a strange sense of longing. His concern was genuine, unlike the superficial care your father displayed. It made you yearn for something more, something real.
Joel's eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt like he could see everything you were hiding. His concern was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a small comfort in the midst of your storm. You smiled at him, a silent thank you for his kindness, and he returned the gesture with a slight nod.
"You remember the time we went fishing at the lake, Joel?" your father said, trying to sound nostalgic. "We caught that huge bass, and you almost fell in trying to reel it in."
Joel smiled, though it was a shadow of his usual warmth. "Yeah, I remember. Good times."
You watched the exchange, feeling a pang of longing. Joel's presence was a reminder of what you were missing – genuine care and concern, something your father could never provide.
As dinner progressed, everyone was making conversations and catching up. You remained silent, but to avoid suspicion, you occasionally joined in, talking to Ellie and responding when someone addressed you. Joel observed quietly, speaking only when necessary or when someone engaged him directly. His occasional glances toward you felt like anchors, ensuring you didn’t drift too far into the depths of your own discomfort.
When it was time to sit down for the meal, you ended up seated across from Joel. Your father, ever the sociable one, continued to dominate the conversation, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. You picked at your food, the pain in your body making it hard to eat.
Joel noticed your discomfort, his eyes filled with quiet concern. He whispered after you shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time, "You sure you're okay?" this time in a whisper so your father wouldn’t hear.
You forced another smile. "I'm fine, Joel. Just tired."
He didn't look convinced, but he let it go, respecting your space. His presence, though, was a constant reminder that someone cared, even if you couldn't fully accept it.
The conversation flowed around you, snippets of dialogue filling the air.
"So, Ellie," your mother said, smiling warmly, "how's school treating you?"
"It's good, Mrs. Gibson. A lot of work, but I'm managing," Ellie replied, glancing at you with a reassuring smile.
Your father, ever the charming host, turned to Tommy. "And how's the construction business? Keeping you busy, I hope?"
Tommy laughed. "Busy doesn't even begin to cover it. We're swamped, but that's a good problem to have."
Joel's eyes flicked back to you as you winced slightly, shifting in your seat. He could see the struggle in your movements, the way you tried to hide your pain. His gaze softened, but he remained silent, respecting your space.
Tommy, clearly enjoying the topic, continued with enthusiasm. "We’re working on this big project downtown. It’s a major redevelopment of an old warehouse into luxury apartments. It's been a challenge, but it’s rewarding. We’re talking high-end finishes, state-of-the-art amenities. It’s a bit of a tightrope walk between maintaining the budget and meeting the client’s vision."
Your father, clearly interested, responded with a knowing nod. "Sounds like a big undertaking. How’s the team handling the pressure?"
Tommy grinned. "We’ve got a solid crew, but it’s been intense. Lots of late nights and early mornings. Joel’s seen the stress firsthand. He’s been around to lend a hand whenever things get tight."
Tommy’s gaze turned to Joel, as if inviting him to elaborate. "Right, Joel? You’ve had your fair share of those late nights, haven’t you?"
Joel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, late nights and long days. It’s all part of the job. We keep pushing through because, in the end, it’s worth it."
Your father leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "You’ve been in the business a long time, Joel. What’s been the biggest challenge for you lately?"
Joel paused for a moment, thinking. "The biggest challenge is always adapting to new demands. Clients want more, and sometimes it feels like we’re racing against the clock. But we get it done."
Tommy, sensing an opportunity to keep the conversation lively, added, "Joel’s been great about handling the unexpected. I remember one time we had a major issue with a contractor, and Joel stepped in and saved the day."
Joel’s expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes for Tommy’s support. "Just doing what needs to be done," he said.
Your mother’s voice was bright and enthusiastic as she shifted the topic. "Tommy, Maria, how’s little Luke doing? I can't believe how quickly he's growing."
Maria’s face lit up with pride. "He’s amazing. It’s been an adjustment, but we’re loving every moment of it. He’s starting to smile more, and it's just the sweetest thing."
Your mother nodded approvingly, her smile wide. "Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s such a joy to watch them grow. We’ve always said that parenting is the most rewarding experience."
The words felt like a raw wound being picked at, each one a reminder of the dissonance between their image of perfect parenting and your own reality. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the sharp pangs of pain that only seemed to intensify with every sugary comment.
Your father, ever the performer, joined in with his own brand of parental wisdom. "Yes, it’s true. Parenting brings out the best in you. It's about guiding them, teaching them right from wrong, and showing them how to navigate the world."
Tommy, clearly enjoying the turn of conversation, added, "Absolutely. We’ve had our challenges, but it’s worth it to see Luke grow and thrive. Every milestone is a victory."
Your mother leaned in with an air of authority. "And don’t forget the importance of structure and discipline. It’s all about finding that balance and being consistent. We always said that’s key to raising well-rounded children."
As the conversation continued, your parents spoke in glowing terms about their parenting philosophy, each statement reinforcing the image of perfection they projected. The more they spoke, the more you felt the weight of their insincerity.
The pain you were trying to suppress seemed to magnify with every word. You gripped your fork tighter, the effort making your knuckles white. You wanted to scream at the facade, the false sense of superiority they exuded while completely ignoring the reality of your struggles.
Joel’s eyes flicked back to you repeatedly, his concern growing more evident with each shift in your posture. He watched as you tried to mask your discomfort, his gaze softening as he saw the strain on your face.
Maria, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your demeanor as well. "Everything alright, sweetheart?" she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.
You forced another smile, though it felt like a mask slipping off. "Just a bit tired, Maria. Nothing to worry about."
Maria didn’t press further but her gaze remained concerned. She glanced at Joel, who gave a subtle nod, acknowledging her unspoken question. Joel’s eyes continued to linger on you, the concern etched deeply into his expression.
As the conversation shifted to a more religious tone, your father, ever the preacher, began to elaborate on his views. His voice took on that familiar, reverent cadence. "Children are a gift from God," he said, his eyes sweeping over the table as if to bless it with his words. "They are entrusted to us to guide, nurture, and instill the values that will shape their futures. It's a sacred duty, one that brings us closer to our faith and to each other."
He continued, the fervor in his voice rising, "The Bible teaches us that we are stewards of these precious souls. Our responsibility is not just to provide for their physical needs, but to mold their character, teach them right from wrong, and guide them in the ways of the Lord."
The words, so full of sanctimonious zeal, felt like a punch to your gut. Each statement was a cruel reminder of the gap between his idealized view of parenting and the harsh reality of your own life. You could feel your discomfort intensify, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm you.
Joel’s gaze shifted between your father’s preachy sermon and your growing distress. His brow furrowed, sensing the tension in the room. He saw you clutching your stomach, your face growing pale. Maria’s concern mirrored his as she glanced at you, her eyes filled with empathy.
Feeling trapped, you struggled to maintain composure, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white. The facade of your father's perfect parenting began to feel like a cruel joke, and the more he spoke, the harder it became to stay seated.
Finally, unable to endure any more, you excused yourself. "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," you said, standing up quickly. Your voice was strained, but you tried to keep it steady.
Your father’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made you shiver. "Sit down, dear. It’s not polite to excuse yourself while others are speaking. We’re all here to enjoy each other’s company." The reprimand felt like a vise tightening around you.
You glanced around the table, feeling the pressure of everyone’s gaze. "I really need to go," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to hold your ground.
Your father’s smile turned colder, and the sharpness in his tone cut through the tension. "If you must go," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if warning you not to embarrass him further. "But do you know where the bathroom is? Don't want to bother Tommy and Maria, they are still eating,"
Before you or Tommy an Maria could respond, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady. "I can show her where it is. I’m finished eating, so I can walk her there."
Your father’s eyes flicked to Joel, his expression softening slightly in a forced show of graciousness. "Thank you, Joel."
You nodded gratefully, feeling a small measure of relief as you met Joel’s concerned gaze. He stood up, his movements deliberate and calm. Maria was occupied with Evelyn, and Ellie was still eating, leaving Joel as the most suitable candidate to help you.
Joel approached you quietly, his demeanor gentle as he offered a reassuring smile. "Come on, I'll show you the way."
You nodded, standing up with a sense of cautious relief. As you walked toward the hallway with Joel, you could feel the weight of the conversation still hanging over you. Joel’s presence was a quiet comfort, his concern a stark contrast to the harshness of your father’s demeanor.
As you made your way down the hall, Joel glanced at you, his eyes filled with genuine worry. "You feeling okay, kid?"
You managed a small, appreciative smile. "I'm good, thanks, Joel."
He gave a reassuring nod as you approached the bathroom door. "I’ll be right here if you need anything. Just take your time."
As you stepped inside the bathroom, the coolness of the tile against your skin was a brief respite from the tension. You leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The solitude offered a momentary escape from the scrutiny and discomfort you’d felt at the table.
With trembling hands, you slowly opened your dress to check the scars, the ones that had been worsening over the past few days. The sight of them made your heart sink further. They were inflamed, bruised, and itching painfully. You traced the edges with your fingertips, and the pain was sharp and immediate. A stifled hiss escaped your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. The physical agony was overwhelming, but it was compounded by the emotional turmoil of the evening.
You tried to steady your breathing, but the pain made it difficult. Your fingers brushed the scars again, and a small, anguished cry escaped you. The pain was almost unbearable, and you felt the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably.
From outside the door, Joel’s voice cut through the quiet. "Kid, is everything alright in there?"
His voice, tinged with concern, snapped you back to reality. You quickly wiped your tears, trying to compose yourself. "I’m fine, Joel. Just... give me a minute."
There was a moment of silence before Joel spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "If something’s wrong, you can tell me. I’m here to help."
You hesitated, the pain and fear making it hard to respond. "I... it’s just—it's nothing serious. I’ll be out in a second."
After a few deep breaths and a final check, you composed yourself as best as you could. You pulled your dress back into place, the physical discomfort still sharp but slightly more manageable. You wiped away the remaining tears, trying to regain your composure.
Opening the bathroom door, you found Joel still standing there, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and patience. You offered him a shaky smile, hoping to convey that you were alright. "Thanks for waiting."
Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his concern deepening as he took in the faint tremble in your hands and the redness in your eyes. "You okay, kid?"
You nodded and smiled, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"
Joel didn't respond immediately, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You look...like you're in pain."
Your smile faltered, and you looked down, unable to maintain the facade under his steady gaze. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to deflect. “Just...school stress."
Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he decided not to push further. "Alright, if you say so. Let’s get back to dinner.”
You both returned to the dining room, where the atmosphere had lightened considerably. The meal continued with lively conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warm glow of shared company.
After dinner, your mom joined Maria in the kitchen to help with the dishes, their laughter and chatter floating through the house. Outside, your father, Tommy, and Joel settled on the backyard porch, their conversation punctuated by the occasional sound of a beer bottle opening or the murmur of crickets.
You found yourself in the living room with Ellie, who was scrolling through her phone while little Luke slept peacefully on the couch. You took a seat next to her, and she looked up, smiling.
"Hey," you said, leaning back into the cushions. "How's school been for you?"
Ellie shrugged, putting her phone down. "It's alright, I guess. Same old stuff. How about you? Finals must be tough, huh?"
"Yeah, they are," you admitted. "But it's almost over. Just a few more months, and then we're done."
Ellie grinned. "Bet you can't wait to get out of here."
You laughed softly. "Yeah, it's definitely time for a change. How about you? Any plans after high school?"
"Maybe college, if I can figure out what I want to do," Ellie replied. "So...Tell me, are there any boys at school you've got your eye on?" She tease giving you a smirk.
You blushed, shaking your head. "No, not really."
Ellie rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows you're like the most popular girl in school. The boys are all over you."
You sighed, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I can't say I'm like that and it's not quite like that. They're just...curious, I guess."
"Curious about what?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.
You hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know, it seems like they're curious about me."
Ellie then brought up what she saw a week ago. "So...don't want to be nosy, but I saw you with Jamie the other day. Is he the one?" She gave you a smirk, clearly enjoying teasing you.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "No, he's just a friend."
"Come on, you can tell me," Ellie insisted, nudging you playfully.
You blushed and tried to deflect, but Ellie wasn't letting up. "Stop, Ellie. It was nothing."
Ellie grinned, leaning in closer. "Okay, but don't tell anyone. Jamie's been trying to get close to me. It's been going on for two months now. We’ve gone out a few times. He’s kissed me, but it hasn’t gone beyond that."
Ellie raised an eyebrow, looking more serious. “And he’s asking for more, isn’t he?”
You nodded, feeling a knot of confusion and frustration in your chest. “Yeah. He keeps bringing up sex, but I’ve told him I’m not ready. He said he’d wait, but he keeps asking. I don’t know what to do.”
Ellie leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “Jamie’s the captain of the football team, right? Popular, blonde, not too smart?”
“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed, sighing. “He’s nice, but this pressure... I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
Ellie nodded understandingly. “You shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for. If Jamie really cares about you, he’ll respect your boundaries. And if he doesn’t, then he’s not worth it.”
You sighed again, the weight of your father's teachings pressing down on you. "But... I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed if I don’t do what he wants. Jamie is nice and polite. His family has giving our church a lot...he also giving me a lot of nice stuff, like dress, necklace and all. My dad always said if someone’s nice to you, you should be nice back. And always obey men because they’re higher in status than women."
Ellie’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Who told you that?"
You shrugged, feeling a bit defensive. "My father."
Ellie shook her head, her expression turning serious. "That’s...kinda messed up. Just because someone’s nice doesn’t mean you owe them anything, especially not your body. And men aren’t superior to women. We’re all equal."
You bit your lip, considering her words. "But that’s how my daddy raised me, Ellie. He always says women should obey men."
Ellie leaned forward, her eyes filled with conviction. "Well, according on how Joel raise me. He taught me to stand up for myself and that I’m just as important as any man. It’s about respect, not obedience. You don’t owe Jamie anything just because he’s nice. If he can’t respect your boundaries, he’s not worth your time."
You felt a flicker of hope at her words. "I... I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to go against everything I’ve been taught."
Ellie reached out and squeezed your hand. "I know it’s hard, but you deserve to be with someone who respects you and your choices. Don’t let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less than you are."
When Ellie said that, it felt like a hit to the chest. "Don't let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less..." Her words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that was both comforting and terrifying. You wished you could believe it, wished you had the strength to stand up to your father. But the reality of your life loomed large and unyielding. Defiance meant danger. Defiance meant pain.
As Ellie's words replayed in your head, you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. You imagined standing up to your father, telling him that you were more than his expectations, more than his strict rules and harsh punishments. The thought made your heart race with a blend of hope and fear.
You glanced at Ellie, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective light. She believed in you, saw your worth even when you couldn't. It was a beacon in the darkness of your doubt, a small but vital spark of hope.
Yet, the idea of challenging your father felt insurmountable. His shadow stretched long over your life, dictating your every move, every thought. You had been molded by his will, taught to obey without question, to live in the confines of his rigid beliefs.
You had to pretend to be the perfect daughter, maintaining the facade that your father was the saintly preacher everyone believed him to be. The weight of this pretense was suffocating, but it was the only way you knew to survive.
Outside, the conversation between Tommy and your father continued, their voices a low hum against the backdrop of the evening. Joel, on the other hand, was mostly silent, nursing his beer as he leaned against the porch railing. His eyes flicked occasionally to the living room, where you and Ellie were talking.
Joel's expression was hard to read, but there was a tension in his jaw, a tightness in his grip on the beer bottle that hinted at his unease. He listened more to your conversation than to Tommy and your father's, though he tried to appear disinterested. Something about you drew him in, made him care more than he wanted to admit. He told himself it was none of his business, that he had no right to interfere in someone else’s family matters. But still, there was a nagging feeling in his gut, an instinct honed by years of protecting those he loved.
As Joel watched you, he saw the way your shoulders slumped slightly when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes darted nervously to the doorway whenever a noise came from the kitchen. You were like a skittish animal, always on alert, always ready to flee or freeze. It reminded him too much of the broken children he'd seen in the aftermath of tragedy, children who had learned too young that the world was a dangerous place.
He took another sip of his beer, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't need more complications in his life. He had enough to deal with, enough to protect. But damn it, there was something about you, something that called out to the part of him that had once been a father, that still is a father to Ellie. It was a part of him that couldn't ignore the signs of distress, the silent cries for help.
In the living room, Ellie continued to speak softly, her words a balm to your troubled heart. "You know," she said, squeezing your hand, "no matter what, you've got me. If you ever need to get away, to take a break, my door's always open."
You looked at her, the warmth in her eyes contrasting sharply with the cold dread that usually filled your days. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice barely holding back the tears. "It means more than you know."
Joel caught that moment, saw the brief glimpse of vulnerability and the strength it took for you to accept Ellie’s offer of support. It stirred something deep within him, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time.
He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the conversation outside. Tommy was laughing at something your father said, their voices blending into the background noise of the night. But even as he tried to tune them out, his mind kept drifting back to you. He didn't know what he could do, or if he should do anything at all.
As the evening wore on, Joel glanced back at you one last time, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to help, without overstepping the boundaries he was so careful to maintain.
***
The last few weeks had been a blur of routine and unspoken tension. Each day felt like a balancing act, with you trying to maintain the perfect image your father demanded while wrestling with your own growing doubts and fears. The only moments of relief came when you could steal a few minutes alone with Ellie, her unwavering support a lifeline in the storm.
One evening after school, you found yourself in your usual spot on the porch, the soft hum of cicadas filling the air. You hugged your knees to your chest, staring out at the darkening sky, your thoughts a tangled mess. You were wearing a nice white mini dress, modest yet elegant, with your hair braided into two sides and adorned with white ribbons.
You had managed to keep up appearances at church, attending every service, helping with every event, but the pressure was becoming unbearable. The weight of your father's expectations pressed down on you like a vise, and each day it grew tighter.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar truck parked in your driveway. You watched as a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and black hair stepped out. He had a ruggedly handsome look about him, and as he saw you, a charming smile spread across his face. He stood there for a moment, then walked towards you with an air of confidence.
“Evenin’,” he said, his voice a smooth drawl. “Is this Father Gibson’s house?”
You nodded, standing up and smoothing your dress. “Yes, it is. Can I help you with something?”
He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Well, aren’t you a polite one? I’m lookin’ for the Reverend. Is he around?”
You nodded again, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “He’s inside. I can get him for you.”
As you turned to go inside, he called after you, his voice teasing. “You know, you’ve got a real pretty smile. Brightens up the whole place.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and forced a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be right back.”
Inside, you found your father in his study, poring over his notes for Sunday’s sermon. “Dad, there’s someone here to see you.”
Your father looked up, frowning slightly. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know his name, but he’s outside waiting,” you replied.
Your father nodded, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. You followed him, your curiosity piqued.
The man was waiting patiently on the porch, his hands in his pockets. As your father approached, he extended a hand with a broad smile. “Reverend Gibson, pleasure to meet you. I'm Naomi's cousin, I assume she already told you?"
Your father shook his hand, a wary look in his eyes. “Ah, yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."
The man leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I was hopin’ we could have a little chat. Got some things I’d like to discuss."
Your father glanced at you, then back at him. “Of course. Let’s step inside.”
As they moved inside, the man glanced back at you, giving you a wink. You watched them disappear into the house, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling inside you.
Not long after, you heard the rumble of Jamie's truck pulling up. Your heart lightened, and you smiled, walking towards the driveway with an eagerness that belied the tension you had been feeling all day. You hung by the fences, your fingers curling around the cool metal as Jamie got out of his truck.
"Hi, Jamie," you said, your voice bright with excitement.
Jamie grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. "Hey sweetpie, how are ya doing? looking beautiful as ever,"
Jamie’s compliment made your cheeks flush, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m doing alright. How about you?”
Jamie’s grin widened. “Can’t complain. I was thinking maybe we could catch that new movie tonight. What do you say?”
The thought of escaping the confines of home and spending a carefree evening with Jamie was a welcome distraction. “That sounds great. But I need to ask my dad first.”
Jamie nodded, settling back into the truck as you approached the front door. The door swung open, and you saw your father still deep in conversation with the man you didn’t know, whose gaze was fixed intently on you.
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unnerving feeling that his eyes were tracing every inch of you.
You spoke to your father, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Father, Jamie asked if I could go to the cinema with him tonight. Is it okay?”
Your father glanced at you briefly, then at the man, whose expression was inscrutable but decidedly interested. “Jamie Lee?” your father asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” you replied.
Your father’s eyes flickered with annoyance at being interrupted but softened as he looked at you. “It’s not ideal to leave while we have a guest here, but alright, you can go. Be back by eight.”
You thanked him and turned to leave, but as you did, you couldn’t help but notice how the man’s gaze lingered on you. His eyes, though polite, seemed to hold a predatory glint, scanning you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly.
You gave a nervous smile as you rejoined Jamie at the truck, who was looking at you with a hopeful expression. “Dad said it’s fine. Let’s go.”
Jamie’s face lit up, and he slid into the driver’s seat with an easy grin. As he started the engine, he turned on some country music, the tunes filling the truck and momentarily lifting your spirits. The drive was smooth, and you found yourself relaxing, your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.
After the movie, Jamie suggested a detour. “How about we grab a drink? There’s a little bar outside of town where we can chill for a bit. What do you say?”
You hesitated, not entirely sure about the idea but wanting to enjoy the evening. “I don’t know… I’m not really into drinking.”
Jamie reassured you with a charming smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Just one drink, I promise.”
When you arrived at the bar, a dimly lit place with a cozy, rustic feel, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Jamie led you inside, and you slid onto a barstool. Jamie ordered whiskey for himself and told you he’d get you something sweet.
The bartender handed you a glass, and you took a tentative sip, expecting a cherry cola. Instead, the liquid was warm and had a strong, unfamiliar bite. You grimaced, looking at Jamie with confusion. “This doesn’t taste like cherry cola. Are you sure this is what I ordered?”
Jamie leaned in, his voice low and soothing. “Nah, it’s whiskey, babe. I thought you might want to try something a bit more adventurous.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I can’t drink whiskey. I’ve never had it before, and my dad would be really angry if he found out.”
Jamie gave you a reassuring smile, placing a hand on your back. “Relax. It’s just a drink. No one’s gonna know. Besides, it’s just one drink. You’ll be fine.”
You hesitated, glancing around the bar. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in your stomach. Jamie’s insistence and easy demeanor made it hard to say no. You took another small sip, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal.
Jamie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched you. “Just have a little more. You might actually like it. It’s good for loosening up, you know?”
Reluctantly, you took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through you. The whiskey tasted harsh and made you cough slightly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
Jamie laughed, a bit too loudly, but with a genuine affection in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax and have fun. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”
Despite the alcohol, you felt an uneasy flutter in your stomach, the drink making you feel lightheaded. Jamie encouraged you to drink more, and you found yourself gradually giving in, the whiskey dulling the edges of your anxiety.
As the evening wore on, you felt the effects of the alcohol more clearly. Your thoughts became hazy, and the room seemed to spin slightly. Jamie’s presence became more comforting, and his laughter more infectious. He kept encouraging you to drink, telling you it was all in good fun.
The bar buzzed with life around you, but the world felt distant, the sounds muffled by the warmth and haze of whiskey. Jamie’s arm around your shoulders was a constant presence, a mix of comfort and tension that made your skin tingle.
As he helped you into the truck, his touch was firm, and you leaned against him, inhaling the potent blend of whiskey and his cologne. The city lights outside blurred, a streak of neon against the dark sky, but Jamie abruptly pulled over to a quiet, secluded road.
“Jamie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Jamie’s gaze was intense, a smoldering look that seemed to pierce through the fog of your mind. “I just wanted to be alone with you,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly slurred. His fingers traced your jawline, his touch both tender and possessive.
The air in the truck was thick with anticipation, charged with an electric tension that you couldn’t ignore. Jamie leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I’ve been wanting you for so long.”
A shiver cascaded down your spine at his words, a confusing mix of desire and trepidation swirling within you. The whiskey had softened your inhibitions, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.
His words were like a seductive caress, stirring a deep, unsettling need. “Jamie, I can't,” you began to say, but his lips silenced you, capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.
His lips were rough, demanding, and they moved with an intensity that set your senses alight. His hands roamed over your body, finding the buttons of your blouse with a hunger that made your heart race. he's messaging your boobs you slowly moan because it feels so good.
The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate urgency. His hands were warm but rough, the contrast of his touch creating a mix of discomfort and electric thrill.
You felt a rising heat as he tugged at your blouse, the fabric yielding under his insistent fingers. “Just this once,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot and ragged. “It’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted, I promise.”
A part of you wanted to resist, but the intoxicating mix of his touch and your own growing desire blurred your judgment. You felt a strange, almost reckless surrender, your boundaries melting away in the intensity of the moment.
"Stop, I-I can't," you said
"I promise, it will feel good, baby," he said
Jamie’s fingers moved with a deliberate skill, teasing and exploring your most sensitive spots. You gasped as his touch sent jolts of pleasure through your body, making your head swim with a mix of desire and confusion. The whiskey's lingering warmth mingled with the heat rising within you, clouding your ability to think clearly.
His other hand slid down your back, pulling you closer until you were almost on his lap. The friction between your bodies only intensified the sensations coursing through you. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a hard, undeniable reminder of his desire.
“Jamie,” you breathed, your voice a mix of protest and longing. “I shouldn’t—”
But your words were cut off as his fingers found their mark, pressing and circling with just the right pressure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. A moan escaped your lips, unbidden and undeniable.
“Just let go,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “I’ve got you.”
His mouth found yours again, the kiss deepening as he continued to work you with his fingers. Your body responded eagerly, every nerve ending on fire. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you surrendered to the sensations overwhelming you.
With a deftness born of experience, he slipped your blouse off your shoulders, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Your skin tingled where he touched, each kiss sending a wave of heat through you.
His hands moved to your breasts, kneading and teasing, his mouth following close behind. The contrast of his rough fingers and the softness of his lips was intoxicating, making you arch into his touch. You could feel the last vestiges of your resistance crumbling, your body aching.
“Jamie,” you whispered, your voice a mix of wanting for more but you are scared, “Please, stop…”
His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in shedding his own clothes. The sight of him, bare and ready, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He reached for you, pulling you close until you were both lying back on the seat, your bodies entwined.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Jamie, please,” you begged, a note of panic creeping into your voice as his grip tightened and his movements became rougher. The initial pleasure was swiftly giving way to pain, each thrust sending shockwaves of discomfort through your body.
“Stop, Jamie, it hurts,” you pleaded, trying to push him away. But he was too strong, his body a heavy weight pinning you down. His eyes, glazed over with alcohol and desire, didn’t seem to register your distress. Instead, his anger flared, his thrusts becoming more forceful and unrelenting.
Tears streamed down your face as you cried out in pain, your voice breaking with each sob. “Please, stop! Jamie, please stop!” you screamed, your hands frantically pushing against his chest, but it was no use. He was lost to his own needs, driven by the alcohol coursing through his veins.
You felt a deep, pervasive sense of violation, your body and spirit shattering with each brutal movement. Desperation clawed at your insides as you prayed for an end to the torment. “God, please make him stop,” you whispered through your tears, your voice a broken, helpless plea.
But Jamie didn’t stop. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. The pain was overwhelming, each thrust tearing through you, leaving you feeling dirty and used. Your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of his ragged breathing and the cruel rhythm of his assault.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, every second an eternity of agony and despair. You felt yourself slipping into a numb, distant place, a coping mechanism to survive the relentless onslaught. Your body became a vessel of pain, your mind retreating to a place where the hurt couldn’t reach you.
Finally, with a shuddering groan, Jamie reached his climax, his body stilling as he released himself inside you. The moment he pulled out and rolled away, you curled into a ball, your body shaking with sobs. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional devastation, the sense of betrayal and violation that coursed through you.
Jamie lay beside you, panting and spent, seemingly oblivious to the trauma he had inflicted. His eyes slowly cleared as the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, but the damage was already done. You felt hollow, your trust shattered, your sense of self irreparably damaged.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled, his voice thick with regret as he reached out to touch you. You flinched violently, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.
"Get away from me!" you screamed, your voice raw with pain and anger. You felt so dirty, so violated, your mind reeling from the horror of what had just happened. You wanted to disappear, to vanish from the world and escape the unbearable weight of your trauma.
Jamie pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn't mean to... I was drunk... I—" His words were a pathetic jumble of excuses, falling on deaf ears.
"Just shut up," you spat, your voice trembling with rage. "Just shut up and take me back to town. I can't be here with you. I can't even look at you."
He nodded mutely, too ashamed to argue. As he started the truck, you pulled your clothes back on with shaking hands, each movement a reminder of the violation you'd endured. The drive back was silent, the air thick with a tension that neither of you dared to break.
When the truck finally came to a stop near the outskirts of town, you didn't wait for it to fully halt before you opened the door and stumbled out. "I can walk from here," you said coldly, not looking back. "I don't want to see you ever again."
Jamie opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He simply nodded, the look of regret and sorrow etched on his face as you slammed the door shut and started walking away.
As you walked, each step felt like an eternity, your mind a whirlwind of pain and confusion. You couldn’t go home, not like this. The thought of facing your family in your current state was unbearable. Instead, you turned your steps towards Ellie’s house. She was the only one who would understand, the only one you could trust to hold you through this nightmare.
You stumbled up the porch steps, your vision blurred by tears, your makeup smeared and your hair a tangled mess. Your dress was wrinkled and torn, a stark reminder of what had happened. You knocked on the door, hugging yourself tightly in a futile attempt to keep warm, to feel safe.
When the door opened, it wasn’t Ellie who stood there. It was Joel. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with tears, your breath hitching in your chest.
Joel's eyes widened in shock and concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. "What happened?" he asked urgently, his voice trembling with worry. "What’s going on? Are you hurt?" Ellie wasn’t home; she was staying at a friend's house for the night.
The sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears, and you couldn't hold back the sobs any longer. You collapsed to the ground, your body shaking with the force of your cries. The world around you blurred into an indistinguishable mess of pain and despair.
Joel was beside you in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you. "You're safe now. I've got you."
As he held you, his heart raced, a sense of urgency fueling his every movement. He noticed the blood seeping through your legs, and panic gripped him. There was a raw, protective anger in his eyes, one that he usually kept buried deep beneath his calm exterior.
You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "Joel," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "He hurt me. He wouldn’t stop. I begged him, but he wouldn’t stop."
Joel’s body went rigid, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Who hurt you?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow.
"Jamie," you sobbed, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. "I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen."
The silence that followed your confession was thick with tension. Joel’s face darkened, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness that made you feel a flicker of safety amidst your despair. He took a deep breath, clearly fighting to keep his anger in check.
"Come on, let's get you inside," he said softly, helping you to your feet. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.
He led you into the living room, where the soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light on the room, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you felt inside. Joel carefully sat you down on the couch. He needed to clean you up. The sight of your blood-soaked dress made his heart ache with a mix of sorrow and rage.
Joel disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket and a cup of tea. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring, then handed you the tea.
"Here, drink this," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’ll help."
You took the cup with trembling hands, the warmth seeping into your skin, offering a small measure of comfort. Joel sat beside you, his presence a solid anchor in the storm of your emotions.
"You don’t have to talk about it right now," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with sorrow. "But I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready."
You looked at him, the tears still streaming down your face. "I feel so dirty," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't want this. I didn’t want any of it."
Joel's face softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fierce protectiveness. "You're not dirty," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Baby, it's not your fault."
The sincerity in his voice broke something loose inside you, and you sobbed harder, your body shaking with the force of your grief. Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. “We’ll get through this,” he promised, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. For the first time in a while, Joel opened his heart, letting his walls down to show you his unwavering support.
He held you for what felt like hours, his embrace a cocoon of safety and warmth. The tears seemed endless, each one carrying a fragment of your shattered soul. But Joel remained steadfast, his presence a constant reassurance that you were not alone in your suffering.
As he held you, Joel's thoughts churned with a mix of emotions. He was a man of few words, accustomed to keeping his feelings locked away, buried deep beneath a hardened exterior. But seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, stirred something dark and primal within him.
It reminded him of his own past, the pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. The memories of Sarah, his daughter, flashed through his mind – the way he had failed to protect her, the helplessness and rage that had consumed him. He had vowed never to let himself feel that kind of pain again, to never let anyone get close enough to hurt him.
Yet here he was, holding you, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you, to shield you from the world’s cruelty. The thought of Jamie, the man who had done this to you, ignited a fierce, burning anger within him. Joel's grip tightened around you, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.
He would make Jamie pay for what he had done. There was a darkness inside Joel, a ruthless side that he rarely let see the light of day. But for you, he would unleash it. He would ensure that Jamie never hurt you – or anyone else – again. The thought of revenge, of justice, gave him a grim sense of purpose, a way to channel the turmoil inside him.
Joel's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He was deeply troubled by the sight of you in such pain, and his protective instincts surged to the forefront. He knew he had to keep himself under control, to focus on helping you heal. But the thought of Jamie’s actions ignited a cold, calculated fury within him.
#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x reader#dbf!joel miller x reader#dark!joel miller x reader#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#dbf!joel#joel miller the last of us#joel miller#joel miller tlou#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#joel miller hbo#ethel cain#lana del rey#southern gothic#southern americana#dbf!joel miller#ellie williams#tommy miller
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