#i bet you forgot you ever asked me this
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Guess I'll make a bunch of tiny shoes out of clay 😐
#shelby speaks#i have a final project due tomorrow. and i asked pj if he would 3d print them for me and he said yes#but he is in the middle of a print of some. Warhammer guys. that will be promoting for 8 more hours#which does not give me enough time to finish my project#i feel. not mad but. ummm like im small potatoes. im no importance -_-#the small potatoes post changed my life fr#anyway its fine what else was i going to do today besides the other finals week stuff i have thats due tomorrow#i have time to make things. bake them. and paint them#and the kicker is i bet my darling lovely best boyfriend simply forgot bc he had a friend over yesterday#pj is still the best ever i am just frazzled with finals you know how it is
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do u want me 2 kill that guy @ ur bfs party 4 u. guy sounds like literally the worst an I will have no issues doing it 4 u
thank you anon. i would love nothing more 💗
#i love you anon 😞 this is so sweet#YESSSS PPL READ MY TAGS!!!#but for real he’s just a weird person in general; once i was not spending lunch with my boyfriend since we were fighting and he had lunch#with his friends but our mutual friend stayed with me because usually the three of us have lunch together#but since me and the bf were fighting he didn’t want me to be alone; so it was. nice and the following day i had lunch with my other friends#and he had lunch with my boyfriend and his friends (since my boyfriend still wasn’t super happy / willing to have lunch with me)#and the same guy who was being mean at the party asked our mutual friend if ‘the backshots with lyss were good’#IN FRONT OF MY BF ??!!#like what ?!!!#he’s just a gross person but it’s okay#his hair looks like#the brown scene hair from roblox and he’s one of those stereotypical guys you see online the#omg she looks like a deftones song…. i love cats >_<!!! oh i dropped my feminist literature…. sorry….#he just made me a bit upset but it’s okay now!#im glad you are so kind about this anon; it makes me feel a lot better about the whole situation :)#i would do the same for you ; given the situation were to ever come#same with any of my followers!!!! i will fight to the death for any of you#LOL OKY enough ranting but for realsies; YOU ARE SO SWEET ANON I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH MY LITTLE BAESAUCE 🥹💗#baesauce is one of my epic vocab words; mix of awesome sauce and bae.#i forgot my ask tag uh oh#FRICK#ask!#that was so simple how did i manage to forget that#also btw if any of you ARE those stereotypical deftones + feminist literature people i’m sorry. it was just the best way to describe it#i bet you are wonderful
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It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:
Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.
Guard 1: What weird guy?
Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?
Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?
Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.
Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.
Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.
Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?
Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.
Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.
Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?
Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.
Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?
Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?
Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.
Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.
Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.
Librarian: How long has he been coming here?
Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.
Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.
Guard 2: Wait, really?
Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.
Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?
Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.
Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?
Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!
Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?
Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.
Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!
Archivist: Also he's really old.
Guard 1: Old as balls.
Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.
Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.
Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.
Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.
Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?
Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.
Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.
Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?
Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.
Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?
Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.
Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?
Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!
Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!
Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.
Guard 1: Why not?
Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?
Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!
Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.
Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.
Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!
Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.
Archivist: You're not a baby.
Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!
Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.
Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?
Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?
Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?
Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.
Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?
Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.
Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.
Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.
Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?
Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.
Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?
Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.
Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.
Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?
Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.
Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!
Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?
Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?
Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-
Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?
Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?
Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!
Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)
Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?
Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.
Librarian: Oh.
Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.
Librarian: Oh.
Guard 1: Fuck yeah!
#fun fact: the Khuzdul name Tharkûn means 'staff-man'#so the Dwarves also call him 'the stick guy'#on the naming of things#sufficiently verbose prose#that's what I'm Tolkien about
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thinking about teen satosugu who miss you a lot when you go on long missions.
it’s kinda funny, actually, how the strongest duo of jujutsu sorcerers act in your absence. unfortunately, solo missions aren’t uncommon for the three of you, and long missions are especially dreadful.
especially when you are the one assigned to go on the long mission by yourself.
the two are subtly closer on the days before you have to leave. whether you notice it or not, you don’t comment on the amount of times gojo has thrown an arm over your shoulders or how often your fingers brush against geto’s since he’s standing so close.
and when you finally depart from jujutsu high, you bet they’re blowing up your phone with random texts of asking about your wellbeing, how the mission was going, etc.
back in the quarters of the school, gojo and geto are miserable. don’t get me wrong, on the first couple of days they’re fine. but come around the third or fourth day without you there, they resort to borrowing your things.
so what if gojo has one of your shirts? he just forgot to do his laundry. and maybe geto took a bottle of your shampoo. he coincidentally ran out of his!
but on one particular solo mission, you’re gone for two weeks. that’s the longest they’ve ever went without seeing you—shoko, their junior classmates, and even yaga himself, were starting to get concerned for them.
by the end of the first week they’re convinced that gojo is going to start firing off blues left ‘n right, and geto might summon the rainbow dragon at every little inconvenience.
one night, the lack of you gets so unbearable that gojo finds himself tiptoeing down the halls, his feet leading him to your dorm.
when he opens it, he’s greeted with the sight of suguru already inside, frozen as he looks at satoru like a deer in headlights.
“satoru?”
“suguru?”
gojo blinks owlishly, confused. geto looks to be in a similar state as him, restless like he couldn’t sleep. “what are you doing in their room?”
“i could ask you the same thing,” suguru shoots back.
“…i forgot something.���
a blatant lie, and they both know it.
when suguru gives him a pointed, unconvinced look, satoru holds his hands up with a sigh, “okay, fine, fine. i was..”
“missing them?” suguru fills in, his head tilting and bangs falling over his eyes messily, and satoru has the strong urge to brush them to the side.
instead, he nods and closes the door behind him. as if in silent agreement, they both approach your dorm bed. they share a knowing glance before climbing in.
it’s a hilarious struggle at first—they’re unbelievably tall and the dorm beds aren’t built to hold two muscular teenagers over six feet.
“move.”
“no, you move, my arm was there first.”
“you’re going to elbow me!”
“don’t make me kick you off the bed!”
it doesn’t matter, ‘cause eventually they end up cuddling some time throughout the night, whether it was intentional or not. a warm bundle of entangled limbs with your scent clinging onto the blanket and pillows.
and it then becomes a routine with you gone. they meet in your dorm during the dead of night to seek comfort in each other and your things—mainly your bed.
when you finally return from your mission, they’re back to normal if anything, praising your efforts and welcoming you back to jujutsu high like they didn’t spend most of the time wallowing after your departure.
so when you’re assigned another solo mission, just imagine your surprise when you return early for once, only to find the pair of boys snuggling underneath your blanket.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x you fluff#geto x reader#geto x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#suguru x reader#suguru x you#geto x reader fluff#geto x you fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#my writing#rain’s writing
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Day 3. Monster-kinktober: Haunted + Free
A/N: Continuation of this little short story. Enjoy!
Shadow monster x fem!reader || tentacle sex, oral sex, semi-public sex
When your friends insisted on me going into the haunted house with them you were scared, you were scared shitless. You didn’t like scary stuff, you didn’t even like that you were out on Halloween night. You liked your Halloween to be spent with candy and watching cringy scary movies that made you laugh and didn’t stop you from sleeping at night. But apparently you were “a baby” and you needed to “get over it”, or so they said. They annoyed you so much that you decided to say fuck it, the park attractions couldn’t be that bad, even kids went there… Right?
You were wrong.
And now you regretted it. You regretted it with every fiber of your body. When the lights went off and you heard high pitched screams, you joined in, screaming, too. You reached around and found somebody’s arm, thinking it was your friend. You clung to him like a baby koala, your whole body pressed against his side as he kept walking for a few steps, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. Your eyes were firmly closed as he stopped in the middle of somewhere.
"Darling, I'm really enjoying this, but I think you got your arms messed up," an unknown voice whispered against your ear, making you shiver and open your eyes widely, a scream almost escaping your lips before he covered your mouth with his dark hand, chuckling.
In front of you wasn’t one of your friends, but one of the monsters working on the attraction, looking at you with the most delicious smirk on his stupidly handsome face. His tentacles undulating behind his black form, all the shadows around his body, making him look enticing instead of scary. And you were almost salivating, he was that handsome. He looked good enough to eat.
You were two seconds away from running away far from him, completely embarrassed, when he stopped you again, one of his tentacles circling your waist to stop your movements. "Calm down, I will guide you outside, don't worry, I don't bite... At least not if you don't ask first." He winked at you, and you blushed, heavily flustered. Your body was still shivering, but this time it was not from fear.
You pulled away just enough to get your mouth free, but his hand landed on your neck, where he squeezed softly, making your heart skip a beat. “Can we... can we leave now?” You stuttered, trying to sound somewhat coherent even though you could feel the tear stains in your cheeks from earlier and your voice was trembling slightly.
His eyes softened. “No, darling, not yet. The doors are closed until this ends,” he explained, his hand still around your neck, caressing your pulse point and making your heart speed up.
“How long is that?” You asked, breathless.
He looked at the ceiling like it got the answer to that question and answered: “About… 20 more minutes.” You looked at the ceiling expecting to find a clock there, but there was nothing at all… how the fuck?
But you had more important matters to attend to. “Oh. Okay. I should try to find my friend then…” You pushed his chest softly, not really wanting to untangle yourself, but being a bit uncomfortable with the situation.
“Or you could keep me company,” he teased. “I bet I can distract you from the fear,” the innuendo in his tone was so clear you shivered, your panties getting wet. There was no way this amazing shadow monster wanted to fuck you, right?
“And how would you do that?” You asked.
He smirked again. “I don’t know if you realized… But I have tentacles.” His tentacles came around his body and touched different parts of yours, making you giggle when they tickled your sides. “Your laugh entices me like no other ever had,” he confessed as he lowered his head and claimed your mouth. You kissed him with desperation, clinging to his body until you were breaking apart, gasping for air. You forgot you had to breathe for a second, his kiss so good you forgot you even existed apart of that point of contact.
He started kissing down your neck, his hands groping your ass. You looked around frantically, almost expecting some other human or monster to appear, and let out a choked: “He- here?”
“Nobody is going to come this way anymore, darling… And you look especially good against that fake-mold wall,” he joked. Your own laugh died when one of his shadow tentacles slipped under your shirt, cupping your boob and flicking your nipple. You groaned and he looked at you like he was a predator and you were his next prey. You shivered again, your body filling with anticipation.
He touched you all over, his tentacles and hands were everywhere and you couldn’t stop moaning as you bite into his lips. You were fighting for dominance in a battle where nobody would lose. You were kissing like desperate souls finding each other again… and it was intoxicating. When you felt his tentacles lowering your pants and panties, you pulled away for a second, looking at his eyes trying to decipher what was going to happen next. He said nothing as he fell to his knees in front of you.
When he looked up at you, you felt like the most powerful woman in the world. Such a big scary monster was on his knees for you, to pleasure you. It was exhilarating and your pussy got wetter instantly. He probed it with his fingers and you cried out, moving your hips to get more friction. And when he grabbed your leg and put it over his shoulder, you almost lost yourself.
The first contact of his super long tongue against your pussy was like an electric shock, running down and making every cell in your body stand to attention. He didn’t give you time to prepare, before you knew it he was sucking and licking and rubbing and… driving you completely insane. You were almost there, so, so close you could almost feel it in the tip of your fingers. That’s when he decided to make his tentacles join in. A tentacle pressed softly against your asshole as another one pressed inside of you. The combination was too much for you, and you fell apart around him, screaming and thrashing as he held you down with his tentacles so you wouldn’t fall to the floor.
“That was… That was… wow,” you let out between heavy breaths. He chuckled, standing up and kissing you again. You could taste yourself in his lips, and that made you want to devour him even more. You reached his dick, but he batted your hand away. “But I…”
“This was for you. Also, there’s no time, I need to get you outside before your friends come looking for you,” he explained with a smile as he embraced you with his tentacles, pulling your pants and panties up your legs with the softest caress. Your legs were still weak when he guided you out of the haunted house.
He guided you outside slowly, letting you cling to his arm for balance, your knees still trembling after that earth shattering orgasm. Once you were out and you saw your friends looking around for you, at the same time they located you, he leaned down and whispered against your ear: “Hope next time I can fuck you properly, darling.” You blushed heavily and he laughed, pulling away until your friends reached you. They asked a few questions that you weren’t ready to ask and he cut them: "Can I have your phone number, then?" Without thinking too much about it, you gave it to him, ignoring your friend’s cheers and comments as you typed it on his phone.
#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#terato#monster boyfriend#art#monster fuqqer#monster love#monster kink#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft#monstertober#kinktober#monsterkinktober#shadow monster#shadow monster x reader#shadow monster x you#shadow monster x human
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Heyyy saw ur request were open what about dark!rafe catches you talking shit about him to your friends over text???
How a Girlfriend is Supposed to Act
Warnings: noncon, forced sex, domestic violence, choking, slapping, oral (m!recieving), toxic relationship, gaslighting
Despite being with Rafe for almost a year, you had learned all of the quirks that he had when it came to his possessiveness very early on.
The first time you caught him reading your texts, you were surprised by just how nonchalant he was about the entire situation.
He was sitting on your bed after you returned from grabbing the two of you a snack, scrolling through your phone, not even bothering to look up at you until you asked him what he was doing.
“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N.” He said it slowly, like he was reminding you of something you yourself couldn’t possibly forgot. The accusing fire in his gaze made you squirm. “Of course I have the right to look through your phone.”
At first you were too surprised to react. You had never really had a reason to look through Rafe’s phone, but you imagined he wouldn’t be too happy if you did.
“Why the fuck do you look so nervous, huh?” He was starting to sound annoyed, and his eyes were flicking between meeting yours and scanning your phone. “Got something you’re trying to hide from me?”
“What? No, Rafe! I just didn’t expect to find you going through my phone, that’s all.” You explained breathlessly. You didn’t know why he was accusing you of trying to keep secrets from him.
Unfortunately, the last thing that you should have done in that moment was try to snatch your phone away from Rafe.
His hand shot out, tightly gripping your wrist as he dug his fingers into the bone beneath your skin. You cried out in pain and watched as your phone fell onto the bed, before bouncing to the floor.
Your boyfriend was furious now, easily pulling you onto the bed by your wrist and onto your back at a painful angle before straddling you. You struggled beneath him, trying hopelessly to stop him from putting his hands on you
When Rafe slapped you across the face the first time, your ears rang and you swore that your vision went white for a moment.
Every sound became muffled but you could hear Rafe angrily chastising you from above, “dumb bitch. I mean, I pay for your fucking phone, so yeah, you’re not gonna talk back to me when I go through it.”
That was months ago, and you later learned that that wasn’t even the first time that Rafe had gone through your phone.
You weren’t cheating on Rafe, that much was 100% true. The problem was that Rafe’s definition of cheating included behaviors that you knew were not cheating.
Texting your classmate a question about homework turned into a two hour long fight that culminated in Rafe giving you a black eye.
After Rafe saw you had and Topper had sent each other a couple funny posts in instagram dm’s, he choked you so hard you passed out, leaving you to cover up the extensive bruising on your neck around your friends and family to avoid explaining what had happened.
Ever since then you had learned to be careful about who you texted, and if you ever texted anyone Rafe wouldn’t approve or said something that he wouldn’t like, you made sure to delete the conversations.
You were always so diligent in covering your tracks.
Except for the one time you really needed to.
After another argument with Rafe had become physical, once you finally got some space away from him you had texted a friend, vaguely venting your frustrations with him, without revealing too many details to make her suspicious that Rafe was hurting you.
As you shakily typed out the texts you couldn’t help but think back on the fight you had had. After catching a guy staring at you in the club, the moment you returned home, Rafe had been quick to grab you by the throat, pushing you up against the wall before hurling insults at you.
“I mean you dress like such a fucking slut, no wonder I have to chase these guys off. I bet you wanted his attention, didn’t you?” His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you with disgust.
You were so shocked by his outburst you had barely registered the fingers crushed your throat, and you finally gasped for air against his strong hand. “N-no, Rafe!”
His grip tightened as he regarded your fearful eyes, “nah, you always think you can fool me sweetheart but you never can.” His chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his eyes, “I saw you looking at him when we first walked in.”
You shook your head against him, tears gathering in your eyes as you begged with him, “I wasn’t baby-”
“Shut the fuck up, Y/N.” He spat at you, squeezing so hard you were sure you would have deep purple bruises on your neck tomorrow.
“I never should have let you outta the house wearing that dress. You were looking for trouble walking around like that.” Rafe growled, his eyes were ice cold. You knew that he was itching for a fight, and you didn’t want to give him what he wanted.
“I’m sorry,” you struggled to force the words out with such little breath and Rafe finally gave you a respite when he loosened his grip on your throat. “You okayed it before we went out, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I knew every guy at that bar would be trying to fuck you with their eyes, but I didn’t think you’d be doing the same to them!” The more he spoke, the more pissed off he seemed to be making himself. You knew that he was just convincing himself that his actions were justified.
When he tossed you to the floor, you yelped in pain when your shoulder hit the hard wood. You barely had time to reach for your tender neck before Rafe grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look up at him.
“I mean, do you even love me anymore, Y/N?” His voice sounded hurt, and even though this wasn’t the first time he had used this card on you in the middle of putting his hands on you, you couldn’t deny the tug on your heartstrings you had when you looked into your boyfriend’s eyes.
“Of course I do, Rafe!” You insisted, knowing that your enthusiasm was expected and there would be consequences if you didn’t play along.
You were terrified of your boyfriend, and after being with him for so long, you were aware of the ways to deescalate a tense situation. In moments like these you would have said anything to protect yourself.
“Nah, you don’t mean that. You haven’t been yourself lately baby. Always too busy with work to spend time with me and now you’re talking back to me?” He shook his head, tsk-ing as he glared at you disgustedly. “Not to mention, you haven’t been fulfilling all of your duties as my girlfriend.”
You stared at him, puzzled and not understanding his meaning, “what are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” He repeated back to you in a mocking tone, like he couldn’t believe how dumb you were to not get it. “I mean, it’s been, what, five days since you last let me have sex with you? I have needs, Y/N. And when you can’t just lay on your back and spread your legs for me, you’re being a bad girlfriend.”
His words stung, and you couldn’t tell if the tears in your eyes were because of the large hand tangled into your hair, or because your boyfriend was acting like you owed him sex, like you were in the wrong right now.
“Now you’re gonna make it up to me, because you are really pissing me off right now, and I don’t want to hear any fucking complaints, do you understand?”
Your body was screaming in resistance, but you numbly realized that you were nodding your head. Rafe’s hand left your hair, finding your chin and gripping your jaw hard.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” the sick grin that was spread across his lips told you exactly how much Rafe was getting off on your humiliation right now and you wanted to be sick.
“I understand.” You forced the words past your gritted teeth, swallowing down the bile that threatened to come up.
Rafe unbuttoned his pants before sliding the zipper down and pushing them down his legs before pulling off his boxers as well.
His dick was hard, a bead of precum already pearled at the tip of his intimidating length.
You swallowed nervously, already afraid of how rough your boyfriend was going to be. You felt like you weren’t ready at all, but the sharp pain the bloomed on your cheek after Rafe slapped you told you that you must have hesitated for too long.
“Quit your damn procrastinating, Y/N,” he hissed, tangling his fingers into your hair again and pulling you to his dick, forcing the tip past your plump lips.
You didn’t have any time to be surprised, gagging and choking on him as he pushed himself deeper towards your throat. He groaned at the feeling of your throat squeezing his cock, urging himself further into the back of your mouth.
Rafe was in heaven, basking in the sight of your teary eyes and the ruined mascara that now trailed down your cheeks. You had looked so pretty at the club tonight, but now you were a crying mess. The noises of your gagging and the steady sound of Rafe’s cock hitting the back of your throat filled the space. Nothing had ever made Rafe hornier than seeing your beautiful, tear filled eyes begging and pleading with his.
He reached out to your cheek, wiping up a bit of saliva that had been forced past your lips. Your glassy eyes were unfocused now that you had given up any thoughts of resistance, too cock drunk to try protesting against the stronger man.
You were doing all you could not to gag on him and choke, knowing full well that that would only spur him on. Every time you pushed at his thigh to get him to ease up, he would slap your hand away with an annoyed grunt.
His pace was relentless now, one hand was gripping your hair and the other was at your throat, holding you still so he could push himself deeper.
“That’s right baby, fuck,” he bit back his groans, ignoring your gagging and desperate eyes when he forced himself too far down your throat, literally choking you with his cock. “Oh fuck- god Y/N, you’re better than any sex doll, you know why?”
He knew you couldn’t answer him, especially since he had started thrusting faster past your messy lips, but he still paused to drink in the sight before him.
“Because they can’t fight back,” Rafe sneered, picking up his pace again, reaching a punishing fervor.
The blond’s dick was slamming into the back of your throat while the large hand at your throat squeezed in warning anytime you so much tried to pull back.
He sped up on final time, chasing his high by forcing you to take all of his cock. Rafe held you in place and watched you choke on him for a couple seconds before letting out a low groan and spilling his salty seed down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow every drop of it.
When he pulled his dick out of your mouth, you took a gasping breath, but weren’t allowed much air before Rafe slapped you across the face hard.
“From now on, I expect this and more from you every night we’re together. Because that’s how my girlfriend is supposed to act. And if you think about giving me any lip about that, then I’m gonna make you wish you had just kept your pretty mouth shut, got it?”
That rest of the night was no better than the beginning, after Rafe had helped you clean up, he basically immediately led you to your bed.
He chuckled in satisfaction when you didn’t fight back against his wandering hands, and as held tight to your wrists, plunging his cock into your slick cunt, he didn’t say anything about the tears rolling down your cheeks.
The next morning you had woken up sore, your entire body ached, and you weren’t surprised when you looked in the mirror and saw the red and purple blooming around your throat.
Rafe was still asleep, his deep snores letting you know that he wouldn’t be waking up soon.
You quietly snuck into the bathroom, grabbing your phone off of the bedside table on the way. Once you had shut and locked the door behind you, you exhaled deeply, unlocking your phone to check for messages.
Your friend had texted you asking how your night had gone, and feeling perhaps a little too honest, you told her that the two of you had had an “argument.”
‘he thought i was checking out a guy at the bar and said some really rude things to me last night.’ You laughed to yourself as you stared at your own words through blurry eyes. It was both funny and sad to you how used to covering for Rafe you now were.
The bathroom felt more cramped when you remembered that Rafe was just on the other side of the door, despite being asleep.
A new notification popped up soundlessly and you read your friend’s text. She was joking about gathering all of your mutual friends to gang up on Rafe.
If only she knew the extent of what Rafe had done to you. You were sure she wouldn’t be joking then. In spite of that, you were angry with Rafe and wanted to blow off a little steam with your friend.
Which is why you felt emboldened to continue texting her.
‘he’s such an asshole sometimes. i’ve been thinking about breaking it off with him soon.’
You huffed, putting your phone down before finishing up in the bathroom and opening the door.
To your surprise, Rafe was standing on the other side, waiting for you to get out before he brushed past you without a word.
You noticed he was taking longer than he usually did to just pee, and when he finally stepped out of the bathroom, you realized with a horrible chill why he had been in there for so long.
Clutched in his hand was your cellphone, and you could see that it was open to the messages you had just sent.
“‘He’s such an asshole, I’ve been thinking about breaking it off??’” His voice was cold and you cringed hearing him speak your words. There was no denying he had read your texts.
You shivered, frozen in place as he stared you down, his blue eyes boring so deep into you that you swore you could feel them burning straight through you.
Your mouth was so dry, you had never felt so afraid of your boyfriend before. Even after everything he had put you through, you had never said anything about breaking up with him to his face. “Rafe, I-”
If your instincts hadn’t kicked in, you would have taken the blow right to your nose, however you had been lucky enough to dodge the phone fast enough that it only nicked your forehead before smashing into pieces against the wall behind you.
Unfortunately, while you had been focused on dodging your phone, the taller man had closed the gap between you, easily pushing you up against the wall by your throat and choking you with both hands. Rafe’s fingers pressed down against the bruises that they had left there the previous night.
You wanted to scream, but Rafe had knocked the wind out of you and no matter how hard you shoved him, he wasn’t giving up.
“You’re mine,” he hissed as you struggled against him. “Maybe I’ve been hitting you too much recently, because I don’t remember you being this stupid when we first started dating.”
Before you could comprehend what was happening, Rafe had spun you around and pushed you face first into the bed. One of his hands was forcing your head against the mattress, while the other pawed at your silk pajama shorts, opting to rip away the fabric covering you before freeing his hard cock from his boxers.
“You think I’m an asshole?” He growled, the tip of his cock brushed against your slick cunt and you shuddered at the feel of him beginning to force himself inside of you.
“I’ll show you how much of an asshole I can be.”
#rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron noncon#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfic#how a girlfriend is supposed to act#rafe cameron x reader
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Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower
Fanon vs Canon
We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.
What I'm addressing:
What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Did Jason drug all the other Titans?
Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?
Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?
Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?
Was Tim crying or scared?
Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?
Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?
Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.
What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.
Look at these opening lines:
Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.
Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.
There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:
You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.
TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.
What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.
Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*
Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?
Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.
Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.
Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?
Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.
Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?
No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.
Does Jason break Tim's staff?
Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.
Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭
Tim crying/ being scared?
Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.
Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.
Message on the wall in Tim's blood?
TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.
Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.
Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?
Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.
#tim drake#jason todd#red hood#robin dc#teen titans#comic panels#jason and tim#teen titans 2003#dc comics#panels are from teen titans (2003) issue 29#i would never tell anyone they have to read comics but i do think seeing the original scene of fanon favs is good#not because you need to follow them but because its good to know what you're taking inspo from#jason attacking tim at titans tower#LONG POST
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Buried in a Book | R.L.
summary: While you were part of the biggest friend group in Hogwarts, you’re often in your own world to even register the plans they make.
pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
includes: remus being the best boyfriend in the entire world, reader feeling a little insecure, reader’s last name is rawlings (no, i didn’t realize how close it was to rowling until later 😞)
a/n: someone spam message me to finish my coryo series please 😭🙏
One of the best things about being in Gryffindor were the people you made friends with. From rule-breakers — such as James and Sirius — to heavy rule followers — Lily Evans herself — it was so diverse. You could throw pranks with the marauders while being a prefect. By the end of sixth year, the group was tight knit and it seemed as if nothing could ever ruin it.
But there was one thing they would typically forget about with their rambunctious nature. They always forgot about you in their plans. It wasn’t as if they did it intentionally. No, it was because you were always off in your own world, and when they made plans you didn’t hear them. Usually one of the girls would tell you, or your loving boyfriend, but you felt awful every time.
Today was no exception.
Sirius and Marlene made plans to Hogsmeade during breakfast for the weekend. And of course the rest of the group seconded that call and hurriedly ate their food to prepare for the trip. Being oblivious to everything that was happening, you continued to read your novel until Remus cleared his throat as a small warning.
Hearing this, you put a finger to your last sentence and looked up at him, eyebrows knitting up in confusion at the lack of noise coming from around you. “Where did they all go?”
“They made plans for Hogsmeade about…” He looked down at his watch, tapping it softly. “… Five minutes ago.”
He stacked the plates surrounding their area, your eyes watching his movements in silence. You thought you were listening to them this morning, but the last thing you heard before you got fully immersed was the next prank Sirius wanted to pull on Severus Snape.
Frowning, you carefully put your bookmark into your book and leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder, voice coming out quiet. “I didn’t realize.”
Remus wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple for assurance. “It’s okay, dovey. You were so invested in your book that I didn’t want to bother you.” He gently helped you up from the bench and pulled your closer to him, his slender fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder. “Besides, I get to have quality time with my best girl.”
A soft smile graced your lips at his comment, but a small part of your mind was eating at you. What if they were talking about something important and Remus wasn’t there to tell you about it? You guessed the girls would, but you would bet they would forget to tell you before you realized they left you.
“Is there anyway specific they asked us to meet then?” You murmured as you entered the Gryffindor common room where only a young first year was sitting by the fire and reading a muggle book.
“I think we both know the answer to that.” He played with the ends on your hair as he pulled around to face you properly. He twisted the ends and watched them unfurl until meeting your eyes.
You looked up and shook your head in amusement as you both said “The Three Broomsticks” at the same time. You scrunched your nose and smiled again when he kissed your forehead as a short parting gesture.
By the time you left the common rooms and made it to The Three Broomsticks, they were just leaving, causing another wave of guilt pass through you.
“There you two are! We were wondering when the both of you would make it.” Sirius pushed in between the both of you to wrap his arms around yours and Remus’ shoulders. “You guys missed out on Evans chugging down her butterbeer because Dorcas dared her.”
You blinked and looked over to Lily in surprise, but the wave of guild began to crash again. “Oh, that must’ve been interesting.”
“Very.” He nudged your side softly before noticing how weary you looked. “You okay there, Rawlings?” His voice got quiet and leaned closer to you. “You and Moony didn’t… You know?”
“Godric, what is wrong with you?” You push him away and dust the invisible dirt off your side. “No, I didn’t realize you guys left us so we went back to the common room before coming here.” You roll your eyes and trudge into Honeydukes with a frown on your face.
“Just a question!” Sirius called after you and look toward Remus instead. He gave him an unimpressed look and peeled Sirius’ arm off of him, raising a brow at the man. “She knows I was joking, right?”
“She does, but she’s not in the mood.” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius as well before following your steps into the candy-filled store. “And for your information, the time span between leaving us and coming here wouldn’t give us enough time to make it satisfactory.”
Sirius creased his brows in confusion before gaping at his best friend. He looked back at James in shock before watching Remus enter the store with a smirk on his face. “Never in my entire life have I heard Remus John Lupin talk about his game like that.”
You watched young wizards and witches mess with the candy from the corner of Honeydukes, fiddling with your own sweater. Well, technically it was Remus’ but he gave it to you sometime last year. But as you played with the loose thread, the same guilt came back to gnaw on your feelings.
It was fine when it was only you missing out on the unplanned fun, but when Remus misses out on fun that he could’ve seen made you upset beyond belief. You didn’t think your own behavior could affect Remus this badly. And it’s not like Sirius helped when he asked about you and Remus.
“Dove?” Remus rounded the corner and found you biting the end of your thumbnail, making him sigh. He gently pulled your hand away and met your eyes. “What’s wrong, dovey?”
“Nothing.” You mumbled, wiping your hand on your sweater. You grimaced at the feeling but looked at Remus with solemn eyes. “Where’s the rest of them?”
He laced his hand with yours, squeezing it softly. “They went to Tomes and Scrolls. I think they’re buying gifts? I’m not to sure.”
You frowned, “When did they say that?”
“They didn’t. They were just heading in that direction when I left them.” He brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles. He watched your glazed eyes blink to get rid of the wet. “Talk to me, my love.”
You raised both brows at the name and felt your face warm. It was rare for him to call you his love, so everytime it made you feel like a child in a candy store, which was technically half true given the setting.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of annoying I zone in and out of our conversations with that whole group?” You finally spoke after a good second, fiddling with his fingers in anticipation for his answer. “We never get to do anything fun or on time because of me, and I’m not too sure why you still bother with me because of it—“
“Dovey,” Remus gave you a small smile, tilting his head down fully to speak only loud enough for you. “Do you really think I care what we miss with them? As long as I have you with me, I couldn’t care less.”
You gently squeeze his hand, “Don’t you want to hate me just a little bit?”
“Never.” He kissed your head. “Why would I ever hate you for your quirk? I think it’s cute that you get to immersed in your own world when reading. And you know why I love it so much?”
“Why?” You smile and tilt your head up to perfectly meet his own tilted head.
“Because then I get to hear all about what happens from your beautiful voice.” Remus grinned his wolfish grin, adjusting the sweater you have on. “So don’t worry too much about me missing out on those pricks because they don’t talk about anything worthwhile.”
You roll your eyes and let out a noise of surprise when he softly connects his waiting lips to yours. Instantly, you melt and return the kiss with equal passion before breaking apart, smiling giddily at him.
“What was that for?” You lay your cheek on his shoulder as shyness took over your body, especially with so many people around you both.
“Just love you.” He thumbed your waist now, nudging his chin onto your head softly. “And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
#august’s works 🫧#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#remus x you#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin angst#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fic#remus lupin headcanon#remus lupin hc#remus lupin hurt/comfort#harry potter x reader#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin my beloved#remus x y/n#remus fanfic#harry potter#harry potter x you#marauders#marauders x reader#the maraunders map#marauders x y/n
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duct tape | lando norris
type: written + smau at the end
pairing(s): assistant!reader x lando norris
summary: youve been landos assistant for a while now and you were asked to do the most embarrassing thing ever, but it wasnt you that was the most embarrassed in the situation; it was your boss.
warning(s): a funny and POORLY edited photo of lando norris done by me (i was cackling making it 💀)
fc: luisinha oliveira!
---
"you want me to WHAT???" you spit out your drink.
"kiss him." the photographer, elise, says as you stare at your friend, eyes quite literally bulging out, "come on y/n..."
"you act like i kiss random people for fun." you say as you take a proper sip from your water.
"but hes not a random person?" she fires back as you roll your eyes.
"still. hes my boss and looking at the situation in general, thats quite embarrassing to do." you feel your face heat up, "how about we find someone else? i bet i can call someone with really luscious lips." you take out your phone and start scrolling through your contacts.
"no," she lowers your phone as you look at her, "he said he wanted YOU to do it."
"ME???" your jaw drops as elise starts laughing at your reaction, "youre lying."
"no im not!" she puts her pinky up as you intertwine your pinky with hers, "pinky promise."
"why me though?" you asked her curiously.
"i told him about the idea and how the stylist would do the kiss marks but he said he had the perfect someone to do the kiss marks and said your name." she explains as you give her a look, "okay to make it easier for you, hes gonna have duct tape covering his mouth. its for the aesthetics." your look immediately disappears and is replaced with a relieved expression.
"oh, you shouldve told me that earlier." you say as you finally smile, "that sounds a little bit easier to do."
"my bad, kind of forgot about it till i told you the story. woopsies." you laugh at her as she chuckles cheekily, "lets go to the set, its almost time for him to be ready."
you both arrived at the set and you noticed your boss all geared up next to an f1 car.
"i thought the set would be more scandalously themed, but this is so much better than what i anticipated." you let a breath out as elise laughs at you.
"do you think im a pornographer or something? gosh have faith in your friends innocence." she rolls her eyes jokingly and it was your turn to laugh now.
landos head instantly turned to your direction as he heard your laughter. he didnt know if you had agreed to the suggestion, but he hoped that elise didnt bring it up since he was feeling a little embarrassed now for acting impulsively with suggesting you to do the kiss marks instead of the stylist.
with how caught up he was in his thoughts, stressing over his impulsive move, he didnt realize that you guys were in front of him.
"lando? landooo???" you say waving your hands in front of his face.
"oh–yes? hi?" he says as he finally snaps out of it.
"you were zoning out. what were you thinking about this time?" you asked as he smiles.
"nothing in particular, just a little nervous on what to do in this photoshoot." he admits mostly.
"youre gonna do good, boss. dont worry about anything! just do what you usually do, your fans are gonna love it no matter what." you comfort him with a smile as he reciprocates the same expression.
you guys stare into each others eyes for a bit until elise finally interrupted you both.
"ahem! love birds can you guys contain yourselves for a sec–" you slap her shoulder lightly as she laughs at it as landos face turns a bit red, "i was just kidding!! anyways...im just here to tell you that y/n agreed to the idea, so ill be back with some duct tape and red lipstick." she walks off and you were left with lando.
"so...you agreed???" he asks as he feels his face heating up more from the fact that you agreed.
"yeah, at first i thought i was kissing you straight up...which is a very hard task to do considering our positions, but she told me you were gonna have duct tape over your mouth; so its like an indirect kiss. which i can mostly do." you answer his question with a small chuckle as he feels his face heat up more, "are you good, lan? youre looking kinda...red?? ish???"
"yeah, no, im fine. this is fine. im perfectly normal." he says quickly as you eye him out.
you reached for his forehead and noticed it was a little warmer.
"are you sure? you feel a little warm." you say as you start to panic thinking about his schedule for today.
"y/n, i am perfectly fine. its just the suit..." he lies as you look at him with doubtful eyes.
before you could pester him more, elise came back with red lipstick and duct tape just like she said.
"here, put this on your lips and also tape his mouth shut." she says as you grab the items.
"it will probably do us a favor if his mouth is taped shut." you joke as he rolls his eyes at you.
"gosh whats that supposed to mean?" he side eyes you as you laugh.
"it means..." you drag on as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer his question.
"it means wha—" his sentence gets cut off by you taping his mouth, "hmf mhmhf!!" he tries to talk but it comes out muffled.
"what did he say?" elise asks as you both laugh at his attempt.
"he probably said 'you muppet!', to insult me or something." you answer her, mimicking landos voice.
"sounds like him alright. perfect impression!!" she says as you take a small bow.
you put the duct tape down and opened the lipstick so you could put it on, kiss him, and get done with it already.
"you ready, lan?" you ask him as he puts his hands up to rip the tape off his mouth half way.
"no–wait. i need like a drink or something..." he comes up with an excuse as he feels his face get hot again due to the situation he put himself in.
"come on lando..its a quick peck and boom were finished!" you reassure him feeling a little flustered as you realize what youre actually doing, "come here."
he dodges you as you glare at him.
"WAIT. PLEASE GIVE ME A SECOND." he yells out as you roll your eyes getting impatient.
"okay fine." you go back to the spot you were standing in.
you look at him grab a bottle of water to drink and he starts fanning himself.
"are you sure youre good?" you asked as he nods his head quickly.
"dont worry about him, y/n. hes just feeling a little flustered because hes getting an indirect ki—" elise gets cut off by an empty water bottle getting thrown at her, "what the hell LANDO." she throws the water bottle back at him.
you laugh at their little squabble until the water bottle hit you and now theyre the ones laughing at you.
"I ALWAYS CATCH STRAY BULLETS I SWEAR. cant laugh in peace anymore..." you say as they laugh harder, "ANYWAYS, lando come here and let me kiss you." you feel your face heat up as soon as you realized what you really said.
"yeah let her kiss you lando." elise chimes in with a little melody.
"not like that–you know what–gosh whatever come on lando, you have places to be after this." you say finally grabbing his arm as he gets closer to you.
"okay, just do it..." he says as he grabs your arms and puts it around his neck, "WAIT WAIT WAIT AAAAHHHH!!" he yells out as he sees how close you guys are.
"LANDO MAN UP GOSH." you finally grab his face and kissed him on both of his cheeks, his forehead, and his lips. directly. completely forgetting the fact that his mouth was not taped shut.
you both dont notice that you guys were kissing lips directly until you both heard a camera click. you guys pulled back and thats when you noticed his lips completely covered in red.
"OH MY GOOOOSHHHH!!!!" elise squeals out as your eyes widen.
"I AM SO SORRY LANDO. I FORGOT YOU DIDNT HAVE IT ON–" you get cut off by lando.
"no, no. its totally fine, y/n...youre good. simple mistake. im completely normal and youre completely normal." he smiles at you, ready to explode from holding in a scream, as you smile back out of relief.
"also...ELISE DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW." you jump her as shes fighting for her life.
you suddenly feel somebody pull you back, which was lando with a huge grin.
"elise, let me see the photo." he says as you look at him.
elise unlocks her phone and pulls up the photo of you and lando kissing, which was a pretty cute angle and photo. you cursed her photography skills.
"you should totally send me that." he says as your jaw drops, "what? its a cute photo of us." he says not knowing where the confidence suddenly came from.
"before y/n dies from a heart attack, have her kiss you again. WITH the tape on this time." elise says as you felt your eye twitch, jaw still on the floor.
you eventually snapped out of shock and reapplied the lipstick so it was more pigmented and you kissed him again, with the tape over his mouth. you looked up at him and realized that he was smiling. you didnt know why, well you had a hint but you didnt wanna act on it.
lando quickly finished his photoshoot and now it was time to go to another place for an interview. you both entered the car and you were met with silence until he spoke up.
"sooo...do you maybe wanna go out for dinner tonight?" he asks breaking the silence as you look at him.
"arent you hanging out with carlos tonight??" you question him as he cheekily smiles at you.
"not–" he takes out his phone and texts carlos something and looks up to look at you, "anymore."
you laugh at his little act and smiled warmly.
"id love to have dinner with you, lan." you met eye contact as he smiles from ear to ear.
he grabs your hand and intertwines them together, keeping it that way till you both arrived at the interview place.
---
landonorris
Liked by ynnn, mclaren, elise_amor, and 1,272,183 others
landonorris dropping in with a kiss 💋
tagged: eaphotography
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mclaren our driver has never looked better! 🧡
landonorris thanks, mclaren!!! 🧡🧡🧡
user1 OMG I AM SCREAMINGAHEB
user2 HE LOOKS SO FINE OH MY GOSH
user3 WHY DOES HE LOOK SO SEXY 😻😻😻
user4 real question tho...who gave him those marks? 🤨🤨🤨
user5 probably the stylist or something
eaphotography nuh uh
user5 HUHH???
eaphotography 🤫🧏♀️
user6 HELPPPP
user7 im so jealous of the person that did that 😭😭😭
user8 CHAT I WANT HIM SO BAD
carlossainz55 wow is that why you were busy mate?
landonorris no? 🙄
carlossainz55 elise sent me a photo, are you sure? 😒😒
landonorris SHHHHHH
elise_amor LMFAOOO
ynnn MAN WHAT THE FLIP DELETE IT
elise_amor NEVERRRR. YOU GUYS LOOK TOO CUTE.
user9 photo? 🤨
ynnn NOTHING.
user10 what if this was a soft launch or something 😻😻😻
landonorris yeah..that would be totes..crazy...👀
user10 IT IS?!?&2&:
ynnn LANDO SHUT UP.
user11 GUYS LANDO AND HIS ASSISTANT, Y/N, ARE DATING 😳😳😳
user10 I AGREE W YOU
user12 how??
user11 i saw them kiss last night at this one restaurant
ynnn @/landonorris YOU SAID IT WAS A BLIND SPOT...
landonorris woops...cats out of the bag ig ☺️☺️☺️
user11 OH MY GOSH!/!/&2&:
user10 WHAT THE SIGMA
lerclan HELPPP THE PHOTO IS SO FUNNY
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ynnn
Liked by elise_amor, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 26,173 others
ynnn bro cannot keep his mouth shut. BRING BACK THE DUCT TAPE.
tagged: landonorris
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landonorris IM SORRY IM JUST HAPPY BABE 😻
ynnn youre lucky youre cute ❤️
Comments on this post have been limited
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authors note(s): iaheiqhehwjq i hope this was good cuz i absolutely had no plot line 💀
ALSO YOU DK HOW BAD I WAS DYING AT ME EDITING THAT PHOTO OF LANDO I LITERALLY COULD NOT BREATHE 😭😭😭
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smau#lando norris x reader#landonorris#formula one#f1 x reader#f1#f1 x you#f1 fic#smau#fanfic#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#imagine
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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii
hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill
pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.
warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.
word count: 9.2k
pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵
“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”
You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.
How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?
Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?
The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.
Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”
Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.
Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”
“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.
Maybe. You don’t fucking know.
“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”
“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.
And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.
If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.
“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.
“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.
“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”
Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.
“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.
The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.
You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.
A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.
“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.
“You havin’ one?”
“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”
Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”
You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”
His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”
“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”
His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”
Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.
Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.
Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”
“Good?”
“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”
“Why would things be weird?”
His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.
“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”
“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.
“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”
Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.
“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.
Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.
The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.
Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.
“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.
Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.
“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”
Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.
You gulp. “…If I was?”
His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?
Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.
Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.
He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.
Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.
Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.
You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.
And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.
He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.
Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.
“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”
You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.
“What?”
“Are you feeling okay?”
Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”
He nods. “How long have you known?”
“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”
He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.
His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.
And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?
“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”
But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.
“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”
You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.
“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.
Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”
“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”
He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”
“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”
Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.
“V…What?”
He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.
“Vanessa?”
A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.
“Who the hell is Vanessa?”
Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.
Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.
“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”
“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”
Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.
“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.
Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.
“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”
This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –
“Seen each other?”
“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”
“Oh.”
Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.
Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.
Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.
But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.
Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.
Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”
“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”
“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot – it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”
You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.
“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.
“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”
His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”
Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”
“Joel –”
What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”
“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”
“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”
“And what about Vanessa?”
“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”
“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”
“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”
“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.
“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”
“To get the timber.”
“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”
Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.
The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.
You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.
He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.
I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.
And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.
The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.
Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?
You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.
And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.
Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.
Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.
You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.
“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?
“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.
“Good job, kid. Good job.”
Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.
He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.
She –? Is – is that a good idea?
I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.
Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?
Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.
You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.
Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?
Alright.
We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.
Okay.
And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?
Joel. I said okay.
He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.
You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.
“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”
“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”
You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”
The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”
“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”
“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.
“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.
He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”
“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”
Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.
“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y’okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.
Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.
Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”
“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.
“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.
But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”
“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”
She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.
You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.
“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.
Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”
“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”
You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”
“Neither should you.”
“Is this…totally weird for you?”
Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.
“Sorry.”
He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”
Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”
He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.
“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.
“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.
Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”
“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”
She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”
She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.
“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”
“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”
She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”
Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”
“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”
Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.
You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.
Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.
And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.
Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.
You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.
Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.
And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.
“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”
And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”
It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?
Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.
You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.
Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.
“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”
Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?
Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”
You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”
He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.
He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”
“Cut the language?”
“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”
“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”
“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”
You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”
He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.
“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.
You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”
“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.
She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”
You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.
“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.
Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.
“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”
“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.
“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.
Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.
The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.
“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”
“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.
Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”
She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”
“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”
You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.
Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”
You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.
She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.
A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.
“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”
You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.
“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”
You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.
“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”
“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.
“Yep. Perfect, too.”
She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.
And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –
And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.
You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.
Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”
“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.
The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.
And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.
Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.
Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.
He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.
“Still scared?” he whispers.
“Terrified,” you tell him.
“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.
You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.
He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.
“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.
“Huh?”
“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”
“The hell would I have to say duck for?”
Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”
“Duck?”
He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.
The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.
Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.
He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”
Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.
“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”
You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.
He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.
You don’t like the crust?
Nope.
What fuckin’ age are you?
If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.
At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –
Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.
You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.
A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.
You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.
You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.
The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.
Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –
“Baby.”
His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.
You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.
Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.
“Icantbreathe,” you pant.
Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”
You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.
“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
In – and out. In – and out again.
The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.
“Can you sit down for me?”
“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.
“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”
You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”
He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”
He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.
“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.
“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.
“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”
You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”
“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”
You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”
You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.
“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.
“Three. Take a sip.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sip.”
You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.
He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”
“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”
Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”
But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”
“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”
“You sound like my fucking doctor.”
Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”
You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.
“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.
Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”
“Ha. Joel Jr.”
“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”
“Mhm?”
“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”
You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”
“First grade, huh? Best one.”
“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.
“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.
“What about your dad? What was he like?”
You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”
Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.
“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.
“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”
Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.
“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.
You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”
It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.
Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.
“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”
#*hits post*#*throws laptop from bridge*#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#the last of us#tlou#macfrog#neighbor!joel miller#neighbor!joel#babydaddy!joel miller#babydaddy!joel#tw pregnancy
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dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party
a small follow up from this !
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there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.
you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.
one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.
no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?
until now.
you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,
and boy, does he look so hot doing it.
he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream
dear god, please do not make me wet tonight
“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”
toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”
“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,
“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,
“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,
“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”
you nod. “mhmm!”
“you like it?”
“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”
“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”
“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”
he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”
“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,
toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,
40..?
oh…
a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”
“how old did you think i am?”
“hmm, 27?”
he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”
god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,
“are you single?”
he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”
giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”
toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.
you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.
“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”
“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”
he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”
he’s got a kid?! holyshit,
“how old is he?”
“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”
“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”
“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”
hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”
toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”
you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”
his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,
“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”
you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”
“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”
slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”
but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”
a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,
he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”
“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,
“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,
when was the last time someone called you that?
throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—
you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.
despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.
you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,
really fucking gorgeous.
toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,
god, your pink. glossy . lips.
“is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”
you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”
“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”
nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”
“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,
your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”
he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,
“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel
“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”
no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.
“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,
you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.
you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”
“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,
you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,
you really can’t wait to see him again
—
next part, first date?👀
a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3
taglist:
@fushipurro
@crocodilethesir
@chilichopsticks
@trentknd
@tojis-ball-sack
@hellokittyloverrxox
@xavlyzn
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro blurbs#toji fushiguro fluff#dilf!toji
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YOUNG LUST ⭑ X.O. KINKTOBER 10TH. FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS!ABBY ANDERSON X FEM!READER
18+ | nsfw | mdni wc. 1.0k+ cw/tags. exhibitionism (car sex), fem!reader, toys (strap-on), implications of abby wearing a strap out in public, barely proofread notes. tried to make the title the colors of the pepsi logo but it came off more american flag than i would have hoped. lol. art by sashatverdaya. title taken from Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae.
Against your more hopeful wishes, you found yourself in the backseat of Abby’s shitty 2005 Ford Escape once again.
It was a curse that Abby knew you so well—knew all your little ticks and what made you moan the loudest for her, which is something that no one in your entire dating history knew how to achieve. You wanted to give her credit for her achievements, but there was deep-rooted annoyance that she was the best you ever had.
And you weren’t even in love with her.
She managed to coax into her backseat, gently pulling you onto her lap and gripping your hips to make sure you didn’t run away. But how could you even begin to think things like that when Abby tasted your tongue in extreme amounts of depth, never letting a drop of saliva fall from your mouth before catching it with her lips. Kissing you was the equivalent of a wine tasting for Abby, squeezing your hips to catch the little hitch in your breathing that made the kiss taste so much sweeter.
“You look pretty tonight,” Abby breathed into you, her fingers finding its way underneath your top to ghost her fingertips on her bare skin.
A soft sigh left your lips. “Yeah?” you responded. “As opposed to every other night that you have me? Tonight is when I look pretty?”
Abby sucked on her teeth. “You know what I mean,”
A simple trip to the movies with your fuck buddy was bound to take a turn like this.
You judged by the way she handled you that she planned to take you all the way tonight. The way that your fellow movie-goers walked by the car you were occupying made your skin crawl. Your peripheral vision slightly distorted their faces into ones of judgment. You squirmed uncomfortably in Abby’s lap.
“What if people see…?” you asked, a slight whine teetering on the edge of your voice. The darkness of the evening provided a shield from potential onlookers, but your uneasiness still crawled deep within you.
Abby took notice of you trying to catch glimpses of outside the car and caught your jaw in a firm grip in her hand, forcing you to look at her. “They’re not gonna see us, pretty girl,” she said, her tone cascading your brain and slowly making you lose your ability to make judgements. “This parking lot will be cleared out in no time. I just need you, please?”
Please.
An awkward shuffling on the seats, Abby’s hands lifting up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side, and her fingers teasing your slit and gathering your wetness on her hand. You were bent over the back seat, face first into the rearview mirror that made you immediately hide yourself from the oncoming public. You opted in for taking in the view of the floor of the trunk
You heard the unzipping of Abby’s jeans, quickly followed by the all too familiar feeling of her strap slowly intruding your pussy. Your hands found purchase on the back of the seats, eyes slowly rolling back as you became more and more full.
“Fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” Abby teased from behind you, the little chuckle at the edge of her question making you whimper involuntarily. “Bet you didn’t get this wet for that micro-dick loser you fucked last week, huh?”
No, you didn’t. Couldn’t even bring yourself to fake it for that guy you already forgot the name of.
You couldn’t get this slippery and messy for anyone except her.
The gradual increase of her thrusts had you making you noise for her in no time. Her hand, ever present on the small of your back, forced you to arch more for her, move in time with her strokes. The general public walked past the truck, not giving a single glance to the lewd, taboo acts being performed in the old vehicle. You prayed that they couldn’t hear the increasing volume of your pathetic whimpers, and the wet slaps of Abby’s strap pouncing your weeping cunt. Your eyes fluttered shut, mouth fell open, and your head lolled back as your friend fucked you so, so good.
You hated to admit that you genuinely needed your pussy pounded like this. It had been way too fucking long.
“Fuck, baby,” Abby hissed in response to the sheer pornographic nature of how she was using your body. “Making such a mess. My pretty girl making a pretty mess just for me…”
You whined, and even though you couldn’t see it, you could see it in your mind the shit-eating grin plastered on her face. “Gonna cum? Do it. Cum in front of all these people,”
And you did, crying out without a single concern for who could possibly hear your cries of pure pleasure. Tremors and shockwaves rocked your body, pussy pulsating and contracting around your friend’s silicone cock.
“That’s my pretty girl…” Abby whispered, leaning forward to gently kiss at the backs of your shoulders and the side of your neck, letting your breath and heartbeat die down to a more tolerable level before you could speak.
“Thank you,” was the only thing you could manage to whisper as you felt her love on your body post-fuck.
With a simple crane of your neck you turned and your lips gently met Abby’s, who kept her cock still buried deep within your pussy. You wanted to say something, wanted to tell her to slip out of you so you two could clean up and have her take you home. But instead, you said nothing.
Just the little breathless thank you.
Abby kept her face close to yours, gently soothing her hands on your body and breathing into your shoulder.
“What’s on your mind right now?” she asked you, softly, pressing kisses onto your cheek and temple.
“Hm…” you hummed, clearly indicating that no critical thought was in your fucked-out brain.
Abby just chuckled, kissing you again.
“You in love with me yet?” she asked you. And even though the question was asked in a joking manner, it still made your brain stir with answers.
You decided not to dwell on the question moving forward.
“Just take me home, Abs,” you said.
#♡; dally writes!#kinktober 2024#fwb!abby#fem!reader#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson fanfic#abby anderson smut#wlw smut#the last of us part 2#tlou2
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THE DRIVE- L. HOWLETT
Pairing- Older! Logan x Mutant! Fem! Reader (Enemies to Lovers)
Word Count: 2.6k (an introduction to the series)
Summary: After being put on the goverments watchlist for being an "unsafe" mutant, Logan 'jumps' (tackles) to the rescue, taking you to the X-Mansion. However, you and Logan do not get along... at all.
Warnings: mentions of violence and guns, swearing, logan and y/n not getting along, crying, reader kinda thristing over logan (as one does)
**authors note/ things to note: this may not be lore accurate/ canon because i haven't watched the x-men movies since i was younger, so its roughly based off what i can kinda remember hehe. y/n has jean greys powers, and jean does not exist in this universe, this is nemies to lovers- but a slowww burn :)
"all this sympathy is just a knife, why I can't even grit my teeth and lie? ifeel all these feelings i can't control..."- sympathy is a knife, charli xcx
“I don’t like you.” you stated plainly, crossing your arms with a huff. This was the most blunt you had been with anyone, ever. But you couldn’t help it.
You had known Logan Howlett now for an hour, and it was an hour you would never get back.
“You’re not s’possed to like me kid. You’re supposed to listen to me, which you’re failing miserably at.” the older man growled, barely looking over at you from the driver's seat. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he slammed down on the gas.
You were thankful in that moment seatbelts were invented.
You bet ten dollars Logan was around when they came up with the idea.
He was an asshole.
He was tasked with the mission to get you to safety- as you were a “rogue” quote on quote mutant as the public called your kind. It made your head spin, not only from Logan’s driving but the sheer weight of it all.
One morning you were pouring your orange juice, the next the national guard was surrounding your house, and a man who happened to have claws shoot out of his knuckles had dived and tackled you as the gunfire started.
Now you were here, in an old rusty truck- speeding down a back road through the woods with an old man who seemed to hate everything. On the run, on your way to the mutant academy- to start over, and to learn how to control your powers.
Or so you hoped.
Logan wasn’t making the trip there very pleasant though.
“I’m listening to you. And even if I wasn’t- do you blame me?! After what just happened I don’t know- maybe an hour ago?!” you rolled your eyes, glaring at him hard enough to leave laser beams through his skin.
“You’re a mutant. Get used to it.”
“Get used to it?!”
He shrugged. “That’s what I said, ain’t it bub? I was tasked to take care of you and get you to safety, so I’m doing that. Doesn’t mean you have to like me.”
You huffed, staring out the window at the trees that blurred together, dark leaves falling on the ground as you whipped by. “I don’t like you.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that kid.”
“I’m not a kid, you know.”
He snorted, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Sure.” It was silent in the car for a few minutes, minus the crackly radio, the station starting to cut out as you ventured deeper into the woods.
You leaned forward, turning it off. Silence.
“So… are you actually two hundred?” you asked meekly, darting your eyes over to stare at him. Even if he was a dick, he was handsome as hell. You couldn’t even deny that.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask someone their age?” he mocked.
“Sorry, I forgot elders were sensitive to that kind of thing. Let me know if you need help getting your walker from the back.” you snapped back, as he showed teeth at you- growling.
Good. Piss him off as much as you could, so when you got to the academy he would leave you alone.
He muttered something under his breath, something about how kids these days have no respect (despite you very much not being a child), and you tuned out.
With a sigh, you leaned your head against the window, the events of today taking a toll on your body. You looked up at the clouds rolling by, until they faded away to black.
------------------------------------------------------
Strong arms carried you, and you curled into the warmth they provided, hands clinging to a rock hard chest. You yawned, savouring the rocking motion, until it stopped.
Your eyes fluttered open, blinking quickly as you adjusted to the dimming light. It was dark out, stars replacing the clouds from earlier- and two dark orbs stared at you intensely.
You squeaked, stumbling down to your feet, backing away from Logan quickly.
“Good morning.” he smirked at your sudden reaction, your frown lines deeply etched in your forehead compared to how they were a few seconds previous.
“What are you doing?!”
“Walking you to our room.”
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head.
“Our room?! And I can walk by myself, thank you very much.” He snorted, jangling the keys in his pocket. “Really? I didn’t know you could sleep walk.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“Can’t. Already tried.” he said, unlocking the door with a click. 106 was scrawled across the wooden door, and the strong smell of lemon cleaning supplies nearly suffocated you as he stepped inside.
He must have stopped at a motel somewhere along the route- in the middle of nowhere. It was older, not as old as him- but aged. It must have been quiet, you assumed- because Logan didn’t seem like the type of guy to willingly choose to be around people, especially not when on the run.
As shitty as the situation was, you were thankful for a place to sleep, and for a proper bed. The car seatbelt and window was not very comfortable, your neck aching from it rolling down during your nap.
You stepped inside, noting the very obvious couples room, a large bed in the middle of the room, with no pull out couch. You gulped.
“I’ll take the floor.” you stated, as he closed and locked the door behind you. Unease lingered in your stomach.
Please god, do not make me sleep with the Wolverine. I do not have the strength, nor patience today.
“Don’t be stupid girl.” And that was that. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it on a little table, flickering on a little side lamp.
You were stunned into silence. You tried so hard not to look.
So. Damn. Hard.
But his muscles were on display, so much so they might as well be their own art exhibit.
His white tank top clinged to his tan skin tightly, and you watched his muscles flex, dog tags jangling on his chest as he snagged a pillow from the bed and tossed it on the floor.
You quickly looked away before he caught you staring, and taunted you for it.
“I’m going to shower.”
No reply. You bit your lip, turning around quietly and tugged your skirt down as you walked in the bathroom and shut the door.
No amount of scrubbing of the shit hotel loofa could get the grime of the day off your skin- soap foaming as quickly as it sputtered down the drain. You tried to stay in the shower as long as you could- dreading the awkwardness that the night would entail- but soon the water turned ice cold.
Shivering, you rinsed off your hair, cranking the taps until water dripped faintly. Wiping the mirror, you stared at yourself in the reflection.
A long scratch darted up your neck, little ones dotting across your arm. You wished you had Logan’s healing abilities. They were ugly, harsh and jagged- standing out like a sore thumb.
You hoped your pjs covered it, you thought, as you wrapped a thin towel across your body, acting as a corset the way it caused your breasts to pop.
Then it hit you. You didn’t have pjs. You didn’t have anything but the clothes on your back (bathroom floor).
Fuck. Could this get any worse?
Not only did you have to sleep in the same room as Logan, you had to ask him for clothes?! Taking a deep breath, you opened the door a sliver, its loud creak echoing throughout the entire room.
“Uh… Logan?”
“Mhgm.”
You poked your head out, eyes darting to survey the space- seeing your bed untouched, long legs poking out from the other end on the floor.
“I- uh.. kinda forgot pjs.”
Nothing, and then a loud laugh emerged from him, his body shaking from the sheer sound of it. “Course you did kid. Here.” he tossed a black t-shirt your way, and it landed on the carpet with a plop.
It would be massive on you, you could already tell- but it was something. Usually you had to go on a few dates and sleep with a guy a few times before you got to this stage. Not an option this time.
You quickly stepped out and grabbed it before he could look up at your (barely) covered body, shrugging it on in the bathroom.
It smelt like him, like whisky and smoke, cider and fresh cut grass. It was comforting, in this moment of chaos. You breathed in the fabric, resting your head against the wall.
Your lip wobbled, hot, salty tears slipping down your cheeks as you gasped for air.
It hurt. Everything hurts.
You were exhausted, hungry and more anxious and overwhelmed than anything. The shock had started to fade, your hands had started to shake and you couldn’t help but break down.
You didn’t care if Logan heard you. The tears continued to fall, body heaving as sobs tore through your body. How was life so unfair? So cruel? Things had changed so fast- and you hadn’t asked for your abilities. You didn’t even know how to control them yet.
But that was what made you dangerous to the government. You thought, growing even more angry with yourself. But how was it your fault?
It made you sick. You just wanted to go home, lay in your own bed and eat your own food, to see your friends and go to work. You never thought those words would leave your lips- but it was true. It was routine, and it was normal.
You felt normal, when you were filing paperwork, talking on the phone to clients. As boring as it could be at times, it was steady.
And now?
You were bouncing around like a ping-pong ball. A coin had been flipped, your fate plastered on either side- and you had lost the draw. Taking a shaky breath, you attempted to regain your composure before facing the judgemental beast outside.
Your eyes were puffy, cheeks sticky and warm with drying tears. Wiping your face, you found the courage to slink back into the main room, flicking off the side lamp Logan had left on. If he had to shower, he could find his way in the dark.
You were sure he could see in the dark- all wolves could- couldn’t they?
Slouching into bed, you gripped the thin sheets tightly- cocooning yourself to try and stay warm. The air was on full blast, despite it being chill outside- and you assumed you had Logan to thank for that.
Great. I’m going to get hypothermia before I even get to the fucking school.
“Do you have to have the air on full blast?” you asked, looking over the side of the bed, watching as Logan crankly peered an eye open.
“Yes.”
“Well could you I don’t know, survey the scene and see it’s cold outside already?”
He huffed.
“I’m warm. I’m always warm.”
“Well that’s not my problem. Be considerate wolf.” you rolled your eyes, hugging the sheets tighter to your body.
“Deal with it kid. It’s staying on- if you don’t like it, sleep outside.”
Well that made you sit up.
“You’re such a dick.”
“Yeah getting a motel room and letting you have the bed- real dick move eh?”
You huffed, gritting your teeth together. This man was pushing your buttons more than they had ever been pushed before. You hated how much he got under your skin. It was like you had your own set of claws, that only he could set off.
“Well I shouldn’t even be in this situation.”
“Yeah we all think that. Shut up and sleep.” he growled, rolling over to face away from the bed.
“You could at least have some respect.”
That was all you asked for, anyways. You had shown him it even when you were in deaths way, thankful for him for saving you. He didn’t show an ounce of it back.
“I’m not giving you any sympathy, if that’s what your asking.”
It felt like a knife had stabbed you in the back, twisting your insides. You whipped up again, throwing a pillow at his face.
“I’m not asking for your fucking sympathy you old piece of shit!” you yelled, earning nothing but silence in return.
He was over you.
Fine. You could do the exact same thing- but better.
Turning your back to him (a dangerous thing to do, you thought), you squeezed your eyes shut and listened to the hum of the air conditioning unit.
Not long after, the weight of the day pulled you back under the waves of sleep again.
--------------------------------------------------
“Wake up kid.” a gruff voice called out to you, a firm hand shaking you. You awoke with a start, blinking until the room came into focus.
Two beaded eyes stared at you narrowly from above you, rolling as you mumbled. It was still dark out, as no light showed through the thin curtains.
The clock read 5:00 and you sighed.
“Breakfast on the table. Get dressed and we’re leaving.”
“Good morning to you too.” you grumbled, rubbing sleep out of your eye. A very stale looking muffin sat on the table, next to Logan’s black coffee.
“Why are you feeding me?” you asked, walking over to take a dry bite. You were famished. Eating anything completely slipped your mind.
“Because Charles would kill me if I didn’t. I said I’d look after you. You can’t starve.”
“Jeez I thought that was the plan all along.”
It tasted like sand in your mouth as you took a bite. You were grateful for it, nonetheless. “I never said I wanted you to starve.” he grumbled to himself, taking a long sip from his mug.
“It was heavily implied.” you spat, turning over the mini coffee bar, finding a kettle and a bag of earl grey. You waited for the water to come to a boil, the kettle screaming at you while you poured it.
You were ready for this day to be over and it hadn’t even begun yet. You had a feeling you would have to get used to it- or else it would eat you alive.
Just like how Logan looked right now- like he’d tear your limbs from you and chew them. You wouldn’t put it past him.
“When you finish that we’re leaving. You got five minutes.” he said, grabbing the truck keys from the table. “Five minutes? I haven’t even had a chance to wake up yet!”
“Too bad. We gotta go kid.” He slammed the door hard behind him, rattling the frame as he unlocked the vehicle.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, asshole.” you mumbled under your breath, chugging down the rest of your tea as fast as you could. If you were back home you would have the morning to lounge around in a bathrobe, sipping your tea slowly with a book and some fresh fruit.
The odd time you would use your powers to move the toast to the toaster, or to move your slippers to your feet. But that was no longer the case.
The tea tasted bitter as you chugged it, burning your throat. You shrugged on yesterday's clothes, running into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.
The front door swung open and before Logan could protest- you bolted out the room. “I’m out, I’m out. Jesus.” Scrambling to the front seat, you watched as Logan glared over his shoulder, slamming the door.
It was going to be an extremely long drive.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverpoolwol#wolverine#the x men#x men#hugh jackman#x men origins: wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fic#logan howlett smut#james logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman smut#logan howlett x you#logan howlett imagine#logan james howlett#deadpool 3
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CUTEST ⌇ PWB
꣑୧ how clingy wonbin is.
drabble fluff ⭒ best friend park wonbin female r. words 571 . . . 𝒞ataloge
wonbin is someone who loves physical contact. he's the clingiest, and with his smile and boba eyes, he can have anyone wrapped around his finger. and you, his dearest friend, are not the exception.
“you have been lying there sience two hours ago” a mocking and low voice reached your ears. you rolled your eyes as you slightly raised up your head to see behind you. the smirk on anton's face made you frown.
“and you don't have things to do?” turning your head again and resting on the sofa, you say to your friend.
“very funny. anyway, i'm going to the supermarket, i'll be back in an hour” he put his jacket and shoes on, as he spoke to you. “you need something?” you shook your head before waving your hand in the air. “see ya later!”
five minutes later, you heard the door opening again, but you didn't raise up your head this time. “i bet you forgot the keys, dumb.” the only thing you heard was a few steps coming closer to you.
“hey, pretty” a pair of shiney eyes appeared in front of you from behind the sofa. you widened your eyes with surprise as you looked up at the black haired boy.
for a couple of seconds you forgot that wonbin had the keys of the apartment, just in case.
“hey, won.. didn't you had classes?” you look how the boy surrounded the sofa and just stared at you with a tiny smile on his lips as he kept standing there. the cap over his head made him ever cute.
“yeah, i felt kinda bored, so i came here to play some video games with anton. but he isn't here..” his eyes analyzed the apartment before coming back to your eyes. you just nood in response. wonbin hummed taking off his cap and trowing it somewhere behind him.
“i see, then i can lie a little before he returns” he said and you nood again, believing that he is referring to lie on the bed of the empty room you have with your roommate, anton.
but you were surprised when he lifted your left arm and made himself conformable by your side— almost on top of you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. your heart stopped for a couple of seconds as you swallowed.
“what are you doing?”
“mm, resting?” he said in a playful tone. you still had your left arm suspended in the air. “i'm making you uncomfortable?” he asked, meeting your eyes, giving you that freaking stare with his big eyes that you hated (loved).
“no, it's okay” you finally relax yourself, putting your arm slowly over his shoulder, giving him some pats, making wonbin chuckle.
“all right” his bright smile made you smile too. he sighed and closed his eyes as he hid his face on your neck again. his arms hugged your waist carefully. “can you wake me up when anton comes back, please?” his husky voice and hot breath on your skin send shivers down your spine.
“you really gonna sleep, bin?” you giggled as you squeezed his shoulder. he nodded, humming.
“yeah, so you should stroke my hair so i can sleep..” you could feel his smile against your neck, and that made your smile go bigger.
like he said, you stroked his hair, which was starting to get to the length he had a couple of months ago, and you were so excited about it.
as the minutes passed, you felt how wonbin started to relax and saw the raise and fall of his back. ten minutes later, he was totally passed out on your arms.
#lim ⋆#˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆#riize#kpop imagines#riize imagines#riize scenario#riize x reader#riize x you#riize wonbin#wonbin x you#wonbin x reader#wonbin#park wonbin
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mr. & mrs. 'surprise couple' | LS2 (sm au!)
pairing: logan sargeant x reader
summary: logan and his partner decide to hard launch their relationship as casually as possible during a week break
warning: cursing, fluff, suggestive language, some dirty talking ig?? (18+, minors DNI), not proofread soo have fun
FC: @/desreii on instagram
a/n: with logan's new website / app making me delulu, this is for all the logan girlies, guys, and ppl!! (this inclusdes myself), honestly it came to me late one night and i only worked on it half asleep sooooo strap in!! also, i opened a ko-fi for tips! please buy me a coffee if you want!
part one | part two
logansargeant tagged yourusername
liked by yourusername, alex_albon, oscarpisatri and 50,205 others
logansargeant happy one year to my other half 🩵 thank you for making this year unforgettable, here's the many more with you ❤️
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landonorris HELLO???
user20 OMG OMG OMG LOGAN'S DATING SOMEONE???
alex_albon THATS MY FAVORITE COUPLE!! YESSSS
landonorris YOU KNEW???
carlossainz55 this is a very interesting development
user52 HELLO??? OMG THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER
user48 LOOOOGAN!! DROP THE PARTNER AND OUR LIVES ARE YOUR!!!
oscarpiastri the best couple i know 🧡
logansargeant thank you 🩵 ↳ yourusername gay! oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and logansargeant liked this comment
yourusername the way imma ride you into the next anniversary oooo baby--
landonorris @ yourusername IS THIS THE MYSTERIOUS PARTNER?? OMG????
logansargenat BABE ↳ yourusername it's true!
alex_albon Y/N?!!! OH MY GOOOOD ↳ yourusername OMG HEY BESTIE!!! are you proud that i made an instagram???!! ↳ alex_albon I AM BUT WTF WAS THAT COMMENT???!!! Also, maybe you'll answer my messages here!! ↳ yourusername blocked actually!! :)
user52 OMG OMG OMG!!
user48 HOLY SHIIIIIT THEY CAME IN SWINGING AHAHAH
user20 WOWOWOWOW THEY ARE MAKING IT KNOWN HE'S OFF THE MARKET
user204 they just made an instagram? oh we bout to watch the best era ever!! 😍
oscarpiastri all over this for sushi? ↳ yourusername damn right ↳ oscarpiastri as unhinged as always ↳ yourusername you love it 😘
yourusername
liked by yourbestfriend, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 204,503 others
yourusername it's silly season fr 😮💨
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user48 OH MY GOD, STUNNING. AN ICON. OTHER WORDLY
yourbestfriend THAT'S MY LIFE PARTNER!! HOTTIE ALERT 🚨🥵
yourusername wifey!!! stoooop 🤭
↳ logansargeant that OUR life partner. ↳ yourbestfriend NO BACK OFF UGH I WAS HERE FIRST!!! ↳ logansargeant i'll buy you coffee for two weeks anytime you want. no questions asked ↳ yourbestfriend @ yourusername if you ever breakup with him istg i'll hurt you ↳ yourusername RUDE???
logansargeant i am the luckiest man ever, truly 😍
↳ yourusername oh please.
user33 ALT PARTNER ALT PARTNER ALT PARTNER
user505 HELLOOOOO
user293 LOGAN IS SUCH A LUCKY, LUCKY MAN
alex_albon lily asked if logan can fight
oscarpiastri my lily also asked that ↳ yourusername good thing i got two hands 😇
logansargeant too bad one hand is more me, guess they'll have to fight each other. alex and oscar y'all are gonna have to fight in place of your girlfriends ↳ yourusername B a b e ↳ alex_albon it's on sight next week ↳ oscarpiastri hotel lobby at 22:00. drinks at 23:00 ↳ alex_albon bet ↳ logansargeant deal
yourusername
liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, landonorris, and 304,503
yourusername guys remember, it's important to eat three meals a day!
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alex_albon Y/N. OH MY GOD????
yourusername what?? it's a good reminder!! ↳ alex_albon YOU FUCKIN HEATHEN OH MY GOOOOD ↳ yourusername still confused on what's the issue!
user205 AYOOOOOOOOO????
user29 HELP ME IM SCREAMING!!! ON MAIN?!
landonorris WOOOOAH!! WHEN DID THIS BECOME A WHORE HOUSE???
oscarpiastri it's always been a whore house with these two ↳ yourusername THIS IS SLANDER!!! HE LIES!!! IM INNOCENT!!!
user49 welllllll who can really name y/n?
user204 TRUE
user50 YUP
logansargeant i think you forgot to eat lunch today...
yourusername on my way right now 😇
alex_albon NO. HEATHEN!!! STAY AWAY!! I NEED HIM FOR THE PODCAST ↳ logansargeant alex hurry up and let's film this please--
oscarpiastri god please nobody wants to hear you two
yourusername your just mad you can't join, it's okay maybe next time 😘 ↳ user205 AYOOOOOO ↳ user46 GOD DAMN ↳ landonorris i will gladly take his spot instead-- ↳ logansargeant nope!
yourusername posted a story
↳ alex_albon BESTIE!!!! LOOK AT YOU!!!!
yourusername THANK YOOOU!!! alex_albon cannot wait to see you at the race!! yourusername me either!!! it'll be a bestie reuion!!
↳ lilymhe HOTTIE HOTTIE HOTTIE!!! 🥵😍
yourusername LILLLLLY STOOOOP 🤭 i hope alex can fight!! 😘 lilymhe he can't so easy win 🥇 yourusername LETS GO!! 💪
↳ oscarpiastri i like the pink, you're gonna keep it longer for a few days??
yourusername hopefully! i like the pink but idk if im feeling it rn oscarpiastri well i think it's nice but i say natural hair for your first paddock appearance yourusername maybe 🤔 thinkin bout it still but thanks you
↳ charlesleclerc the makeup? the hair? the pose? please tell me you're blessing the paddock with your beauty
yourusername oh don't worry, i will! i'm excited to meet you! charlesleclerc you as well!
↳ landonorris GOD DAMN TRYIN TO KILL A MAN WITH THE LOOKS!!
yourusername that's the plan!
↳ logansargeant are you tired from running through my mind all day baby?
yourusername babe that was a horrible logansargeant you loved it, don't lie yourusername i did but still really bad logansargeant it's fine i'll just slip between your thighs when i get home to make it up to you 😉 yourusername LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT! logansargeant what? do you not want me between your thighs when i get home? i was gonna just drop to my knees and flick that dress up so, no real reason to wear panties btw yourusername i-- logansargeant please? pretty please? babe look at you--what am i suppose to do? not drop to my knees and let you use me how you want?? yourusername you should come home. like right now logansargeant already out the door.
logansargeant
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 640,593 others
logansargeant great way to end the week break! next up, miami!
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user20 LOGAN WIN, MANIFESTING!!!
user49 god damn y/n is sooo pretty it's unfair 😩 comment liked by logansargeant
alex_albon can't believe i lost to you in golf still
↳ yourusername you lost to EVERYONE in golf ↳ alex_albon lily doesn't count ↳ yourusername no duh, lily's a professional of course she doesn't count!!
user492 THE LAST PIC??? HELLOOO???
user5 i knooow 🤤
user24 no right to be that fINE!! ↳ yourusername i keep telling him that ↳ user24 OMG HI HELLO SKPINOWJNGFION
yourbestfriend USA!! USA!! USA!!
yourusername USA!! USA!! USA ↳ logansargeant 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 RED WHITE AND BLUE
yourusername omg that's my MAAAAN!!! 😍 those swim trunks look heavy let me hold them up for you--
logansargeant babe ↳ yourusername and tight. i could help take them off 👀 ↳ logansargeant please 😩 ↳ alex_albon GOD MY EYES!!!
yourusername
liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, and 492,530 others
yourusername petition to be f1's new goth icon
comments on this post have been limited
logansargeant or just mine. mine works too
yourusername that was a given ↳ logansargeant thank god--still. step on me, please--
alex_albon as long as you promise to walk logan back to the garage, deal
yourusername just got you bestie
oscarpiastri nobody else is gonna take the title
yourusername now they can take it from my cold dead hands
logansargeant do you need a dog? i can bark
yourusername BABE WHY DID YOU COMMENT TWICE? LMAO??? ↳ logansargeant had to make sure i had your attention ↳ yourusername velcro boyfriend fr. come lets cuddle ↳ logansargeant YES
#starlight library presents;#f1 imagine#f1 smau#startlight library navigation#logan sargent x reader#logan sargent imagine#logan sargeant sm au#ls2 x reader#ls2 imagine#ls2 sm au#logan sargeant social media au#ls2 social media au#f1 sm au#f1 social media au
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dodging his kisses ⟡ dan heng
synopsis dan heng needs his daily kisses from you but march has other plans ^_^
warnings fluff, gn!reader, idk if dan heng might be ooc or not but </3
NOTES finally back with a dan heng fic + creating a taglist for hsr fics!! send an ask to my inbox to be added :3
you and march were an inseparable duo ever since you first joined the astral express. with that, march was the source of mischief and the number one person you can come to whenever you wanted to prank dan heng.
which is how we got here today. a bright sunny morning, dan heng is still fast asleep while you and march were busy talking with each other in the kitchen while making breakfast.
"hey y/n," march starts, munching on a piece of bread. "why not try dodging his kisses for a day? i'll treat you to tasty food in xianzhou luofu if you manage to do this for at least until 3pm."
you raised your eyebrows, giving march a confused look. "so suddenly?"
"what? i wanna see dan heng get frustrated for once! i've been traveling with dan heng for, what, 3 months now and i have yet to see a single emotion other than a blank stare on his face!" march complains, suddenly eating her bread faster. "you're curious too, right? to see dan heng get visibly upset."
"well, yeah but i feel like i would crumble at the sight of dan heng getting sad because i dodged his kisses. march, you know how much he loves kissing me," you replied, playing around with the spoon on the table.
"okay, how about this," march says, leaning forward. "you do what i just said, and i will treat you to tasty food and buy you that outfit you were eyeing during one of our missions."
this piqued your interest. "how'd you know i wanted that outfit?"
march gives you a smug smile. "of course i know! i'm your best friend, after all. so, up for the bet?"
you thought about it for a few seconds before agreeing to it with a sigh at the end. "okay, fine. you better keep your promise or else." giving march an intimidating glare, you left the kitchen to go back to your room.
dan heng was still fast asleep on your bed (he slept in your room because he said his bed was uncomfortable — but you knew it was because he wanted to cuddle with you). you sat down on the empty space next to him and just silently admired him, a soft smile appearing on your face as you see how cozy and relaxed he looks.
dan heng suddenly stirs, opening his eyes slightly. "g'morning, love."
"morning, baby! sorry, did i wake you up?" you asked, caressing his hair.
he shakes his head. "no you didn't, don't worry." he sits up and was about to give you a kiss but you immediately dodged which surprises dan heng.
"breakfast is ready!" you exclaimed, pulling dan heng out from the bed. "you can shower after breakfast, mkay?"
dan heng nodded slowly, still not understanding why you dodged his usual morning kiss. "...okay." he subconsciously has a small pout on his face, and you honestly felt bad for doing so.
when you entered the kitchen, march was no longer there, and you figured it was because she didn't want to third-wheel.
"here you are," you let dan heng sit in his usual seat, grabbed his plate, and placed the food on top. dan heng takes a bit out of the food and you looked at him with expectant eyes. "does it taste good?"
"mhm," dan heng hums, giving you a small smile. "you didn't burn it this time either."
you blushed. "w-we don't talk about that! i told you i forgot i was cooking! i didn't burn it on purpose."
"whatever you say, love," dan heng was about to give you a kiss on the cheek but you were quick to dodge, promptly backing away from him. dan heng raises an eyebrow at your move and placed his utensils down. "okay, what's going on? why are you dodging my kisses?"
"h-huh? what are you talking about? i'm not dodging!" you stuttered out, looking away.
with his eyebrows still raised, he leans forward. "mm, are you sure about that?" and before he could land his surprise kiss, you quickly covered your mouth, which was honestly a bad move because even if dan heng was a bit oblivious to certain things, he isn't when it comes to your actions. "seriously, what is going on?"
you frowned, dropping your hands with a disappointed sigh. "you just ruined my prank. march promised to buy me an outfit i saw while we were in the luofu if i completed the prank."
dan heng blinks and laughed. "really? just for that outfit? you know i can buy it for you when we go back there."
"REALLY?!" you exclaimed, turning your whole body to face him. "are you serious?"
"yeah, of course i am. i'd buy everything for you." dan heng says with the softest smile on his face you swear your heart just melted.
"thank you thank you thank you!" you say with a really happy tone and hugged him tightly. dan heng's eyes widened in surprise, but he returns the hug just as tight, a smile still on his face.
you swear you could hear a camera shutter, but thought nothing of it.
#kylin.writes#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#danheng#danheng x reader#danheng x you#danheng x y/n#danheng fluff#danheng hsr#dan heng#dan heng x reader#dan heng x you#dan heng x y/n#dan heng fluff#dan heng hsr#dan heng honkai star rail#danheng honkai star rail#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x y/n#honkai star rail danheng#honkai star rail dan heng#honkai star rail fluff#hsr#hsr x y/n#hsr x reader#hsr x you#hsr fluff#hsr danheng
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