sapphoshands · 21 hours ago
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i loved this show so violently and i'm having a lot of feelings right now so: some unformed thoughts under the cut
okay, i adore the road being billy's creation, and BOY that gives agatha's line 'are you sure' to billy a whole lot of weight. she really did know from the beginning! smartest witch in the room - she even fooled rio!
i continue to love literally everything about agatha harkness, not least that three seconds after giving birth she's already using her beloved child to up her con game
kathryn hahn broke my heart SEVERAL times throughout these two eps. just oh my god.
i do think agatha will make an EXCEPTIONAL ghost, popping up in the most awkward of places at the worst of times
lots and lots of great bits. lots. i'm not going to enumerate them but there really were some spectacular moments.
okay one more: jen and agatha. god. the emotions both of those women went through.
do not love:
why didn't we get more setup of agatha and rio's backstory? why has rio been chasing agatha?
they literally had, what, sixty years together before nicky? that's it? like i get that it was a bad breakup but that bad?? and agatha hasn't seen rio since 1756? like!
honestly feel pretty duped that it did end up being ALL to set up billy. like i really did think they were doing something different there. i really did.
i loved a surprising amount about the nicky story (as someone who generally does not like stories about kids and motherhood) but it did feel a little cheap how quickly agatha gave up after just hearing his name
also i still think that ending did not thematically align with the rest of the show, which went so hard on the strength of the coven and the divine fucking feminine, you know? not the young white dude!
that beautiful scene with the dandelion seed, agatha's insistence it will be a longgggggg time before she dies, and then sudden pivot. like. i would like to read the marvel notes.
why did killing agatha balance anything to do with billy and tommy? especially if agatha has become a ghost?
how did rio feel about killing agatha? why didn't we get anything on that?
agatha says it wasn't billy who broke her out of the spell but we don't get anything on that?
also i just. i just don't love ghost agatha. i know i went all terry castle on it already but there really is something about the possibilities forestalled there. i have already seen a few interesting posts about how that could still play out with her getting reincarnated in the future but ugh, why? why as the end of her own show did we get her demotion to intangible sidekick?
i also got baited so hard. convinced myself she wasn't dead when billy heard her at the end of ep 8. convinced myself billy was trying to reincarnate her (until i made out all his latin). what the hell.
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olivieblake · 10 months ago
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hello i hope you're doing well ! i'm writing to you because i'm slightly in desperate need of big sistering <3 i started college this year, a fancy liberal arts degree from a fancy liberal arts college for maximum pretentiousness and unemployment opportunities. this is quite everything i have ever dreamed of; i've been interested in humanities ever since i was a child, i used to be The Humanities/Arts Kid, among all my classmates who were much more career oriented/engineers/doctors. the only issue now is that i am now surrounded by all the Humanities/Arts Kids of their respective schools and i feel so hopelessly out of my depth here. i've always been the Kid Who Knows Stuff and now everybody i know knows stuff, and they know more stuff than i do. this is sending me into a slighttt identity crisis because i dont know what my aRchetype (?) i anymore?). like, what do people come to me for anymore? there's only so long i can continue to trick people into thinking i know things. (on a side note, we're also noticing a huge leap in sounding soooo self deprecating, because somehow i thought the way to solve this was by upfront claiming to everyone that While Yes, I Do Have Some Abilities And Strengths, It's Not Quite Enough And You Can Find Like Five Other People Who Can More, which a. is quite annoying to have to hear 24/7, and b. while my self esteem for now is quite protected and these are just jOkes, it's a very slippery slope, but i am, uh, working, on this? i think)
ahahahaha love this. and I get it! it's alarming to find out you're not as individual as you thought you were (many movies and books about precisely this, and I might actually recommend Orange County, which I recently rewatched and is perhaps not Great Cinema but there are two mirrored scenes that are just perfection in terms of expectations vs reality). college is a great place for finding yourself, not reinforcing your archetype. high school/adolescence is about learning to move with the herd in the interest of survival, and in some ways finding your archetype is a coping mechanism for feeling ostracized. it contributes to the mythology of yourself. but the world is much bigger than you or the place you came from, and part of becoming an adult is figuring out who you actually want to be (and in some cases being disappointed by who you actually are, but save that particular crisis for your late twenties)
for right now, just be open to who you are in all your facets. you're about to grow so much!! say yes to everything that sounds interesting to you. I mean that. be busy. be overstimulated. do things. meet people. talk. argue. seek the things that make your mind buzz. do not define yourself by your constraints or by the outlines that other people make for you. it's about to get sooooooo much more interesting, I swear
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batsplat · 1 month ago
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throwback to a couple of my favourite backhanded sets of compliments that casey and valentino threw each other's way
“It’s difficult to say who is the most talented rider,” Stoner said. “Valentino has talent in several things that I lack, for example in dealing with the media. In some aspects he is more talented than me, in others I am more talented. It’s a speech that applies to everyone. Lorenzo has shown that he is more talented than Valentino, and he showed it when they both had the same bike. Dani [Pedrosa] also has great talent, and if he manages to have a great season, without injuries, everyone will have to deal with him.” “We [riders] are all here for the same reason,” the Australian added, “we have the same passion. We all take the same risks and we have to respect each other: there is no reason for hatred, for hating an opponent. We are mature people and we have to realize that. I have great respect for the riders who ride clearly, without doing stupid things. We know that there could be an accident at any time, and we know how difficult it is to stay at the front every week, the effort that this requires. I have great respect for Lorenzo, he is a great fighter. The same goes for Valentino, Dani, Andrea…”
(from 2012) the one-two punch of the media comment and the jorge comment to shit on valentino's talent is really strong stuff. bunch of obvious insults couched in language that's barely trying to hide it but is JUST enough for plausible deniability, like yeah he really did get way better at this whole media schtick bless
“Stoner did an amazing job at Ducati. When I looked back at his telemetry I used to wonder how he’d achieve such times!” Rossi said. “People used to think he was very quick – but not particularly intelligent. And that’s why, eventually, he was successful. The reality is that at Ducati he had to go beyond the limits. Go quicker and quicker. And, if you ride like that, you eventually crash! “We had completely opposing paths in our careers: he’d always ridden for one manufacturer, Honda, under the guidance of Luca Cecchinello. When at Ducati I think he must have thought: ‘Stuff that! This bike is good. I have to win!’ “I, on the other hand, had come from years of success with Honda and Yamaha, and I immediately realised that the bike wasn’t the best. I’m certain that, were Stoner to climb onto Dovizioso’s Ducati tomorrow, he’d still manage to finish a race in 6th place. He used to ride in an incredible way. He’s unique. “Do I miss him? On the track, yes. He has fantastic talent and was difficult to beat. But off the track, no I don’t miss him. Without him there is much better camaraderie between the riders.”
(from 2013) kinda the last time he spoke about casey in any depth for close to a decade, but it's a personal fave interview because there's a really neat 50:50 split between compliments and insults. incredible tonal whiplash in every line
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asmileforyourscrapbooks · 6 months ago
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OMFG THIS COMMENT. GUISE. THAT LAST SENTENCE IS SO FUCKING RAW
edit: i see a lot of people arguing over the 'eat the rich' thing and i'd like to clear up my standing currently! i know they aren't the same kind of fancy multi-million corporation that our beloved phrase talks about, and the reason i agree to a point with this comment is that watcher is evidently trying to become that. they're doing some shitty things in regards do disregarding poorer fans, and are seemingly blatantly ignoring the economic crisis by saying 'everyone can afford that!', all in direct contrast to their entire branding of being leftist and openly supporting things like eat the rich.
"You said 'eat the rich' then handed us the forks, laid on the plate, and expected us to spare you?" at least from my understanding isn't flat-out saying watcher are now the rich we eat, but are well on the track to becoming so, and are quickly developing the same ego.
BUT!! don't like people directly hating on steven like that!! they're all grown men who can make their own decisions, and pretending like shane and ryan are out little baby beans and then calling steven evil and whatnot isn't okay. they can all be held equally accountable. though i do somewhat understand being the most disappointed in shane, as he's the one who speaks on shit like eating the rich the most, and is generally more outward with his ideals, so it's perfectly reasonable to feel betrayed more deeply. but bottom line is they're all equally accountable for this decision.
some shit we can't take back. i probably got pissed and said some weird/uncool shit initially because of the intense emotions i was dealing with, which other people amplified. i do regret some of the things i've said to a point when it comes to being hateful, but i can't just un-say it all, so i'm not even going to try. i'm going to leave everything be and allow it to serve as something to look back on for what not to do in future circumstances. while this new path for watcher is, in my opinion, not the smartest and generally really shitty, they're human beings who make mistakes, and they deserve our acknowledgement of that.
in short, i don't like it but i'll stop being a bitch about it because they don't deserve that. also sorry for the wall of (probably incoherent lmao) text i got passionate <3
edit 2: guys. im screaming. the apology was amazing imo and i genuinely think they really mean it, like it doesn't seem bullshitted. i think they realized they fucked up for reals and feel bad. im so happy for them, but also for us as fans. yay :D
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targaryenluvs · 10 months ago
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OH BABY!
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pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader
summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.
warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭
word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.
a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk -UPDATE HOLY CRAP THERE IS GONNA BE A NEW MOVIW AND BOOKKKSJSNABS
taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye
“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.
as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.
your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.
you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.
as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.
finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.
he practically had you all to himself.
“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.
“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.
your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.
“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.
finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.
“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.
he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.
there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.
how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.
you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.
after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.
“oh isn’t she adorable?”
“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”
“you are precious!”
they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.
in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.
it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.
it was just you and finnick.
“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”
he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.
you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.
“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.
finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.
“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.
“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.
finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.
“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.
the interview went well, in your eyes at least.
caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.
the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.
“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.
“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.
you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.
“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.
“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.
you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.
finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.
you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?
you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.
“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”
the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.
you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.
instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”
the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.
whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.
the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.
your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?
finnick needed to see more.
the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.
such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.
his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.
finnick would tell you right?
“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.
your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.
“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.
for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.
you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.
“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”
“yes, here.”
“i’ll make it so good for you.”
“just let me feel you.”
“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.
your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.
only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.
by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?
“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”
his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?
“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.
his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”
“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.
“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.
it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.
as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.
“you’re doing so well for me.”
“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”
your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.
he wanted to go easy on you.
but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.
the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”
you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.
his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”
but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.
god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.
“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.
“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”
you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.
“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”
he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?
“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.
“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.
“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.
now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?
his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.
a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.
“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.
this man was driven youd give him that.
“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.
“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.
each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.
“wanna make you feel good.”
“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”
when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.
you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.
“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-
smack!
“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.
smack!
you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.
“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.
smack!
“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?
he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.
he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.
“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.
his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.
the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.
the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.
you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.
you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 4 months ago
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Just Like His Father
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader
Warnings: none, pure fluff, I actually saw this on tiktok and thought it'd be cute to make sth out of it
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You were in the kitchen finishing making dinner when your husband returned from a business meeting.
"Hey, love" Lewis greeted you as he entered the kitchen.
"Hey, baby" You smiled as he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you leaving a kiss on your cheek. "You tired?"
"No, but I am starving." He sighed. "What's for dinner?"
"Curry chicken and rice. It'll be ready in a minute, you can sit at the table"
"Oh, yes, please.." He groaned. "Where's Marlo?"
"He should be in his room doing his homework. The young gentleman didn't have lunch today so he has to eat dinner" You chuckled remembering the talk you had with your son earlier today. Marlo was 5 years old and in preschool. He was the smartest, most lovable, but also unintentionally the funniest kid ever.
"Marlo, daddy's home!" You shouted. "Wash your hands and come sit at the table"
"Why were you laughing when you said he didn't have lunch today?" Lewis asked curiously.
"Oh you just wait till you hear it from him" You giggled taking the dish and walking with it over to the table.
When Marlo washed his hands, he ran into the kitchen extending his arms towards Lewis. "Daddy!" He screamed with joy seeing him.
"Buddy" Lewis softened, picking him up in his arms and hugging him tightly. "I missed you. Did you have a good day at school?" He asked.
"Yup" Marlo nodded.
"Tell daddy what happened at school today" You said trying to refrain from laughing so that Marlo doesn't think you're making fun of him.
"What happened at school?" Lewis was still confused. "Did someone mess with you? Did someone touch you? Y/n?" He was already visibly upset and paternal protective instincts kicked in within seconds.
"No, no-"
"Mom did.." Marlo blurted out and his gaze shifted to you. “Mom messed with me..”
"What do you mean?"
"Marlo, did you eat your lunch at school today?" You asked crossing your arms and leaning your elbows onto the table waiting for his response.
"I didn't actually" He said turning to Lewis.
"And why is that?" Lewis asked.
"Because my girlfriend was sat right across from me and you put a note that said I love you babe" Marlo explained pointing his finger at you.
Lewis paused for a second, blinking a couple of times before bursting into laughter. "Your girlfriend, buddy? You have a girlfriend?"
"I'm not sure if I still have one after today" He sighed.
"Oh, your girlfriend didn't like mom's note?"
"No! She got mad!"
You chuckled again remembering how upset he was about it earlier today when he first told you the story. You felt bad for him, but you couldn't help but laugh at the kid stuff that was concerning him.
"And what did you do after that?" Lewis listened intently as you put food on the plates for both of them.
"Nothing, I explained to her that she's married to my dad and I said that my dad is Lewis Hamilton."
"You hear how beautifully he emphasized that my husband is none other than Lewis Hamilton" You joked as Lewis held his head laughing.
"What? I didn't say anything wrong?" Marlo shrugged his shoulders. Love problems were clearly too much for the young man.
"Baby, no girl will ever love you as much as your mom loves you, remember that." You stood up from your chair and walked over to him placing his small face between your hands and kissing his forehead.
"Well, she doesn't have to know that!" Marlo defended.
"Okay, okay. No more notes in lunch boxes just so that your girlfriend doesn't feel like I'm a threat to her apparently" You playfully rolled your eyes going back to your seat. "Now, please start eating your dinner"
"But I still don't understand, regardless of the note, why didn't you eat your lunch?" Lewis asked him.
"Because I wanted to prove her how much I loved her." He sighed before continuing "Dad once told me how he proves his love for you by eating everything you cook even though sometimes he may not like it, but he eats everything because he loves you. I just did the opposite."
Your and Lewis' hearts melted when you hear him say it. You were so proud of your little boy who was too young to know what love was but he learned it so well from his daddy. you knew that one day he would make some girl the happiest girl in the world, just like his father made you and continues to do so day after day.
After dinner was over, both you and Lewis wanted to get Marlo ready for bed. After you gave him a shower and Lewis helped him brush his teeth, you read him a bedtime story and cuddled him before saying goodnight. You also made pinky promises that there would be no more "embarrassing" notes from mom in the lunchbox, and that Marlo would eat his lunch every day.
After that you and Lewis decided to relax on the couch in front of the TV in each other's arms.
"If one day we have a daughter and she comes to me at the age of 5 and says she has a boyfriend, I swear, I will lose my mind" Lewis said jokingly even though you knew he meant it.
"Yeah, we'll homeschool her so she doesn't have any contact with the boys" You said sarcastically rolling your eyes at him.
"Exactly! That's a great idea actually!" He seemed to love it of course.
"Oh stop it!"
"As you told our son today, so I will tell our daughter, no man in her life will ever love her more than me. That's a fact. I already love her."
"Baby, we don't even have a daughter...yet"
"Then I better get to work, no?" He smirked rolling you over and nuzzling his head into your neck making you giggle.
"Well, you better, Lewis Hamilton."
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hurtspideyparker · 1 month ago
Text
Part 3 of if Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together
Part 1 Part 2
-
Mission debrief:
Thor: Don't feel bad Banner, I mean is there anyone at this table who hasn't killed somebody?
Peter: *slowly raises hand*
Natasha: Don't worry you're still young
Peter: 😟
-
Steve: Has anyone seen my shield?
Clint: *points outside*
*Peter, Thor, and Bucky playing frisbee with it*
Steve: I guess I'm not saving those orphans today :/
-
Clint: Tony I said seedless watermelon, are you trying to kill me?
Tony: You're a big boy, you aren't gonna choke
Clint: No but it might... grow
Tony: Oh please don't tell me you still think watermelon seeds grow inside your stomach if you swallow them
Clint:
Pietro: Bro got a licence to kill but still has a Jack and the Beanstock level of education
-
2:34 am
Tony: *leaving Steve's bedroom*
Sam: *leaving Bucky's bedroom*
Tony:
Sam:
Tony: Let's never speak of this?
Sam: Yep.
-
Steve: Tony, you're the smartest person I know. You understand anything you set out to study, your passion is remarkable, innovation beyond anyone on the planet, and an incredible memory
Tony: Thank you thank you
Steve: So why do you STILL NOT CLOSE THE KITCHEN CABINETS
Tony: Uh
Steve: SOME OF US ARE TALL TONY. SOME OF US HAVE BRUISES ON THEIR FOREHEADS BECAUSE OF THIS NEGLIGENCE
-
Tony: Goodnight kid *tucks Peter into bed and kisses his forehead*
*Clint, Vision, Thor, and Dum-E waiting outside the room*
Tony: Oh come on. All of you?
*nodding*
Tony: Vision you don't even sleep. Dum-E I am not kissing you again you gave me chemical burns last time
Dum-E: *lowers head and whirs sadly*
-
Bucky: Don't sit so close to me
Sam: Why, cause I'm black 🤨
Bucky: No because you smell like ass sweat
Sam:
Sam: Why, cause I'm bl-
-
During training:
Natasha: *flips Steve and slams him onto his back*
Peter: Woah! I wanna know how to do that
Natasha: *flips Peter and slams him onto his back*
Natasha: Seems like you already know how
-
Tony: Okay Merida, you and me, darts for a hundred bucks. My suit vs. your freak self
Clint: I'll take that bet
*7 minutes later*
Tony: I have advanced AI targetting technology. SUPER. SUIT. How did I lose?!
Clint: It can do a lot of things Tony but at the end of the day it can't super suck this di-
-
Bucky: Sam's in medical so I'll do the mission debrief with you
Natasha: That was fast, I thought you'd still be coddling your boyfriend the rest of the day
Bucky: What. How do you know about us.
Natasha: I don't, it was a joke...
Bucky:
Natasha:
Bucky: Damn you really are good at interrogation
-
Bruce: I've taken up puzzles as a hobby. It's actually really relaxing
*Box is missing the last piece*
Bruce: *sighs, erases the 61 under the 'Days Without Hulk Incident' sign*
-
Natasha: Kings
Bucky: Go fish. Sevens?
Natasha: Nada. Fives?
Bucky: Shit. Here
Sam: I thought y'all were playing poker, are you for real playing Go Fish?
Natasha: Our pockets got cleaned out so we quit. The poker game is over by Steve
Peter: HAHA SUCK IT OLD MAN, AMERICA JUST WENT BANKRUPT *pulls giant pile of animal crackers to himself*
-
Steve: Do you want to play catch?
Wanda: What?
Steve: Um. Do you want to watch Hannah Montana?
Wanda: I don't even know what you're talking about
Steve: Maybe I could show you how to brush your teeth?
Wanda: Steve you're really scaring me
Steve: The article said to do it together! *shows phone*
Wanda: Are you getting parenting advice from wikihow? Did you even read it or were you just skimming the pictures
Steve: ...Well why'd they put toothbrushing in the photo if it wasn't a good bonding activity?
-
Sam: Why are your titties so bouncy man. Is it to deflect bullets?
Steve: What did you just say about my chest...
Sam: Hey I call em as I see em, and they're staring right at me.
-
Peter: Yo Mr. Stark wanna see a backflip?
Peter: Oh Cap come see my front handsprings
Peter: Natasha watch this aerial cartwheel!
Tony: Why did you tell him you were in the circus. Now that the idea's in his head all he does is jump around and cause noise complaints from downstairs
Clint: C'mon it's cute! He's talented
Bucky: I'm gonna tell him it doesn't count because he has superpowers and that he's a cheat
Tony: But that'll ruin his confidence
Bucky: God I hope so
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peachesofteal · 6 days ago
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peach I had this entire amazing dream about through me where mama and Simon were having a bath together and at first it was for si and mama was taking care of him but of course he couldn’t just have that and pulled her in to give her a massage and an orgasm it was so beautiful and sweet and I desperately need a massage but at least I had a dream everyone say thank you peach !
making your dreams more dreams I guess (I know you didn't ask for this sorry)
Simon Riley/female reader Through Me (The Flood) 18+ mdni sexual content
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"I'm sorry." Your face is wet with tears, and Simon's stomach pitches as it always does when you're upset.
"It's okay honey," he tries to wipe them away, frantically sweeping his thumbs across your cheeks, "it's okay. It's not a big deal."
"I c-can't remember anything, I've never been like this. It's pregnancy brain." You bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking, and wail. "I'm stupid!"
"You're not stupid." He was outside with Ry when you started yelling and cussing, smell of smoke wafting from the kitchen windows. You burnt dinner. Left it in the oven too long. By the time they made it inside, you had already tossed it in the trash and started sobbing. "It happens, it's okay."
It really was okay. He forced you to go lay down, made a frozen pizza and fed Ry.
"I'm sorry I'm so cranky." He cups your face.
"Mama, stop apologizing to me. I wouldn't care if you burnt the house down." He waffles. "As long as you weren't inside it, of course." You give him a small smile, a roll of your eyes.
"Christ Si, that's a little extreme."
"I know, C'mon." He dips his fingers in the water, ensuring it's the right temperature. It can't be too hot, but your doctor assured something in the 90s range was fine. "It's alright, sweetheart. It's alright." You rub your face, and relent, putting your hand in his as he guides you into the bath.
The tub was something you had put in after he bought the house. It's huge. Big enough the both of you can fit in it comfortably, deep enough you never see your knees or your belly. He shifts you forward, climbing in behind you and then pulls you back in between his legs and into his chest. "How's that?"
"It's good." You murmur, relaxing as he rubs your shoulders.
"I don't want you getting all stressed out about things like this," he kisses the side of your head, "it's not good for you or the baby. Alright?"
"Okay." You're still sniffling, and his heart aches a little bit.
But he knows how to fix it. 
He strokes his hand over your rounded belly, dipping under the water to push your thighs wide and trace his thumb up and down the seam of your folds, his lips on your neck. "If you're not gonna relax, I'm going to do it for you."
"Okay," you say breathlessly. He thumbs your clit, coaxing it, and you flex, back arching. You're much more sensitive now, going off like a bomb every time he touches you, coming on his dick so fast he sees stars every time.
He rubs your clit in methodical circles. Takes his time. Teases you slowly, enjoys the way your hips jerk, how you pant into his neck, whining.
"Simon."
"Does that feel good?" He smirks. He loves you like this. Whiny. Breathless. Falling apart in his arms. He loves you every way, but this is extra special.
"Y-yeah, please..."
"Please what?" He increases the speed, playing back and forth, sliding down to where you're pulsing for him and back up, rubbing the small, swollen nub. "Please make you come?" He presses hard, your back arches and you moan.
"Daddy-" your fingers dig into his knees. "Don't s-stop, don't-"
"Come for me, mama." You do, hard. It's always hard now, explosive, and he holds you steady even when your thighs snap shut around his forearm. "Good girl." His palm cups your belly, slowly moving over the rounded curve where the baby is. His baby, that he's having with you. Again. The baby that he gets to be here for, from the beginning. That gets to be a little sibling to the smartest, bravest little boy he knows.
He closes his eyes, swallowing the emotion surging in his heart.
"I love you." He kisses your temple, and you sigh.
"I love you too."
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pretty-little-mind33 · 8 months ago
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.
Genre: Angst (happy ending), fluff, hurt and comfort (a little bit of everything honestly)
Warnings: jealous!james, stupid!james, swearing, screaming, arguments, crying, injuries, punching, blood, protective!James, protective!marauders, platonic!best friends!marauders, confessions, dangerous activities (reader puts herself in danger), mentions of dying
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
You look towards the ground and your ankle bends a little in your winter boots as you try to control your movements. The cherry liquor you had drank earlier lingers in your mouth and in your drunken haze, the tower you're currently balancing on feels secure as you move forwards and the onlookers below continue to cheer. 
"Please don't stay out too late," Remus warned you.
You blush, shaking some snow from your hair as you outstretch your arms for better balance, biting your lip. You look up at the sky, the stars prominent this evening.
"And don't drink too much," James reminded you with small smile. 
"We'll see you there," Sirius promised.
What the hell did they know? You pout, now staring down at the snow on the ground. They hadn't even shown up!
You hear someone call your name and you look down to see Arthur Brown, a Ravenclaw boy you'd been talking with at a party. He's handsome with a charming smile and as you wave to him, you almost fall over. 
Arthur just chuckles and encourages you to continue whatever nonsense and liquid courage inspired you to walk on the castle roof in the snow this late at night. 
"Y/n?" you hear Remus's strained shout and when you turn your head, you're surprised to see Remus, James, and Sirius rushing over. They aren't dressed for the cold weather and they look extremely shaken and confused. "Come down from there," Remus shouts. You wonder how they'd known.
Sirius looks pale and James is frantically looking around to find some way to help you down safely. He looks more distraught than the others and Sirius has to calm him.
Your eyebrows knit together. You're afraid James might make a scene. Only, why would he? You know he'd let Remus, Sirius, or Peter do this in a heart beat, and he'd find it funny.
Bloody hell, James would probably do it himself so why does he look so worried when it's you?
"Bugger off, she's fine," Arthur interrupts as you take another step. Your boots slip on the snow again but you laugh as you move your arms out further to catch yourself. "See, she's fine. So, stop being her little guard dogs for one second and let her live a little," he says with unnecessary venom. 
"What did you just say?" Sirius barks, grabbing Arthur's collar. He looks furious now. 
"Y/n, come down, please, honey," Remus calls, occasionally telling Sirius to drop it and to concentrate on you.
You frown as Arthur's teasing riles up your friends and the crowd underneath you. Wind swirls around you and you gasp, feeling suddenly even more unbalanced and you start to realize maybe this wasn't the smartest plan.
"You fuckin' prick, don't talk about her like that, you hear me?" James suddenly swears loudly. Because you hadn't been paying attention to the boys under you, when you hear James and look down at him, you see that he'd pushed Arthur into the snow and was pinning him down.
Alarmed by their shouts, you accidentally slip as you turn around to make sure James's is okay.  
You let out a shriek and all the students suddenly look up, seeming to remember your presence. Momentarily distracted by your scream, Arthur slams his elbow into James's cheekbone and sends him falling off him. Chaos ensues as everyone rushes to crowd around both you and James separately. 
Remus kneels next to you, his hand coming behind your head to support you up. You're clutching at your ankle as you wail uncontrollably from the way you had fallen onto the snow. With nimble fingers, Remus cuffs your jeans and sees how swollen your ankle looks. "Oh, honey, that looks like it hurts," he whispers and caresses your cheek with his knuckles. 
From next to you, Sirius and other students are standing around James; James, who has scrambled up from the ground. His nose is bleeding and the crimson liquid stains the snow as he curses at Arthur. Sirius is holding James up by his shoulders and he uses his hand to pinch James's nose as his best friend winces in pain. Arthur, who has a prominent bruise under his eye, is pulled away by his friends. 
"What happened here?" The low drone of the Headmaster, accompanied by an anxious looking Professor McGonagall, is heard and you all turn your heads around.
* * *
Around an hour later, as Madam Pomfrey takes the time to heal your ankle, a disheveled looking James sits on the bed opposite of yours. He's holding a handkerchief to his nose and Madam Pomfrey hasn't tended to his injury yet. To her defense, James still looks extremely pissed and you wouldn't want to approach him either. You won't have that same luxury as the moment Madam Pomfrey is gone, James is staring.  
"What were you thinking?" he whispers, his tone quipped. Still a little fuzzy from how drunk you'd been, you blink at him and shift uncomfortably. 
"What was I thinking? What were you thinking?" you counter, defensively.
"What?" James drops the handkerchief and glares. 
"Why would you jump Arthur like that?"
"Why the fuck do you care?" James hisses, his eyes narrowing. He's your best friend, he knows you hate it when he swears but that doesn't stop him now. "You're fucking reckless, you know? How could you have been so fucking stupid?"
You stare at James as your eyes water painfully. No coherent words form in your head. You're grateful for an escape when Remus and Sirius pile into the room. 
Sirius rushes to your side. "Aw, poor sweetness, does it hurt terribly?" his sentence dies when he sees your tears and he wraps an arm around you so you can hug him. "Y/n, what's wrong?" 
Remus, always more intuitive than Sirius, looks at James and sees James's furious expression. He frowns and quickly walks over to his best friend and holds onto his arm. James pushes him away and you see Remus whisper something in his ear. 
However, Sirius pulls your attention away from them as he wipes your tears with his thumb. 
"I am not!" Your attention is pulled again and you hear James shout as Remus shushes him.
You sniff, and look at Sirius. "James hates me," you say and Sirius's expression falls. He looks behind and sees Remus and James's shushed argument. He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand as his gaze softens. 
"James couldn't hate you even if he'd been cursed to," he says so simply.
You shake your head and bite your lip. "No, he's really mad…like really mad, Pads."
Sirius chuckles and sighs, "Oh sweetie, James isn't really mad at you. He's mad at himself. Merlin, you should have seen him when he first saw you on that roof, the poor bloke looked about ready to faint." 
Sirius continues and turns to Remus and James only to see they've moved further away from you and Sirius, and James looks like he could burst into tears at any moment, "Jamie is madly in love with you, Y/n. Just the possibility of you and another guy makes him go absolutely bonkers. And listen, if he hadn't hit Arthur like he did, I don't know if you would have fallen, doll. James knows that too and he's simply mad with guilt."
You try to concentrate on Sirius's entire story but your mind stays stuck at the words; "James? In love with me?" 
Sirius's lips curl in amusement but he doesn't have the time to answer because he hears Remus shout an exasperated; "Prongs!" as James, his nose still very much broken and bloody, storms out of the Hospital Wing without a second word. Your chest tightens as you watch him and if you could, you'd run after him.
* * *
James has been avoiding you. Or more accurately, he's been avoiding everyone for the last three days. He's never in the common room anymore and he has evening detentions with Professor McGonagall so you don't see him at all outside of classes. Remus, Sirius, and Peter all tell you he's been quiet in their dorm too and that they don't know what's happened with him either. 
Remus won't tell anyone what he spoke to James about that night in the Hospital Wing.
By the fourth day of complete silence, you've had enough. You manage to catch James on his way to detention. You speed walk over to him and cut his path, spinning around to look at him. You gasp when you see him. His face is bruised and his lip is split. "James!" you gasp and stop him. James's brown eyes narrow and he looks angry. 
"Get out of my way, Y/n," he hisses as his fists clench. 
"What happened?" you insist. His burises look horrible, and you think that he hadn't got his broken nose healed properly since he'd stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Why handn't the boys told you James looked like this?
"Are you a bloody insane? What he fuck happened?" your voice comes out stern and James pauses at your curse word, his frustrated expression faltering for a moment. 
"What?"
You hold onto his sleeve and push him into the nearest girls lavatory. James almost trips as you make him lean against the sink. His eyes widen when you pull out your wand and firmly grasp his chin in your hands. You ignore his whinning as you point your wand at his wounds. "Episky—shush be still," you mutter sternly as you heal all of his wounds. "What is wrong with you, James Potter? Tell me who you've been tousling with this instant!"
James scrunches his nose and touches where his wounds had been. He leans away from you. "Nobody," he says, his voice high so you know he's lying. 
"James," you warn. You move away and shove your wand in your cloak. "Please, tell me."
James has never been able to deny you a thing, even at times like this. "Fine, just don't lose your head over it, bird," you scowl at the nickname with an eye roll. "Brown keeps pushing my buttons, is all," he says. 
"Arthur? The same boy who broke your nose?"
"Yeah, that little fucker, I'm pretty sure he's in love with you—or he has some weird obsession because he can't keep your name out of his fucking mouth," James suddenly pinches his nose and shuts his eyes, "Shi-sorry I keep curing, I know you don't like it when we curse." 
Almost like he's sulking, James leans against the sink and stares at you. He doesn't speak. 
"You're such a wanker," you mumble and look at him more closely, "Why are you acting like such a prick since that night?"
"Oh, since the night you almost fucking died?" James raises his eyebrows, his tone sarcastic and you ignore the curse word again. 
"Horrible exaggeration considering all I did was break my ankle."
"Could have been your neck," James deadpans. 
"Well, it wasn't my neck and that's certainly no excuse to be a such a prat," you say seriously. James considers your words and sighs. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair and looks away. 
"What do you want me to say?" he asks. 
You stare at him like he's absolutely mental. "That you're sorry?"
James laughs and you swear you've never met a boy as stubborn as he is. "Why would I be sorry?"
"Are you serious, James?" you whisper and press your finger accusingly on his chest, "Listen to me, I know I shouldn't have been on that roof, that's my mistake, but you know damn well I wouldn't have been on that roof if you'd all come with me to the party like you'd promised!" your voice comes out rushed, "And I wouldn't have fallen if you didn't have to knock down Arthur Brown and make me worried for you!"
James's cheeks are flaming. "You think I, out of everyone, don't know that?" he says, straightening up and moving closer to you, his voice harsh, "do you think I don't lay awake at night, going absolutely insane over every possible scenario that prevents you from falling?" James's voice cracks and he steps forwards again. 
You look up at him, slightly breathless. For someone so angry, James looks undeniably handsome. "I know we should have gone to the party with you, but Merlin, I couldn't bear another one! Another party I would have had to spend watching other boys fawn all over you! Fuck, Y/n, how could I have known you would decide take a drunken nightly stroll on a roof because we hadn't shown up!"
You listen to him, eyes wide, "You don't like it when boys fawn over me?" you whisper. 
James frowns. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes closed. "Of course I don't," he says, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 
"Why?" 
"Because you should be mine," James's voice is smaller now, less authoritative, less angry. 
You stare at him and take in his expression with an inhale of breath. "But, James, I am yours."
James shakes his head quickly and tugs at his curls. "No, no. You aren't mine. You're ours. Sirius, Remus, Peter—you're our best friend. And I was okay with that, until I wasn't anymore and now everytime Arthur Brown says he wants to kiss your lips all I want is to punch something." James's fists clench and he looks away from you. 
"You're scaring me," you look at him, whispering honestly but you don't move away from him.
James looks down and this time he looks really remorseful, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I don't meant to scare you. I—"
"So, Sirius was right," you inquire, taking his sudden remorse as a widow for a civilized conversation. 
"Sirius was right about what?" 
"You're in love with me," you don't say it as a question, more like a statement and James's eyes round so wide you're almost afraid they'll pop out of his skull.
James tries to escape but as he backs away, he bumps into the sink and his heart sinks. His eyes are moving so rapidly around the room and his cheeks have turned a less aggressive crimson and into a more lovesick pink. 
"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" he mumbles to himself, feeling warmth on his cheek. 
"What?"
James rubs at his nape and looks less angry and more nervous. You smile. You had been right to strike this conversation now. "Moony, in the Hospital Wing. He said I loved you—which was why I was acting like a prick and I don't," he backtracks immediately, "I mean, I love you as a friend and n-nothing more."  
You expected to feel pain at the rejection but instead, you laugh. You stare at James and laugh harder. So hard, you clutch your sides and James's eyebrows crease with worry as you hyperventilate in front of him. 
"Because you should be mine," you repeat his words through your laughter, "That's what you said and now you want me to believe you aren't in love with me?!"
"What?!" James's crimson cheeks have returned and he sounds annoyed now, "I- listen, sorry to disappoint but I-I am not in love with you!"
"You aren't?" you look at him, your eyes flickering to his lips. 
"No!"
"Then why do you want me to be yours? What does that mean, hmm, James?"
You walk a little closer and your arms rest on the sink behind him. You ignore the way your heart is pounding your chest and screaming at you as you stand so close to him. James is staring down as you look up at him through your lashes. You expect another protest, maybe another incoherent defense, but instead he mumbles, "Fuck it," under his breath and takes your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you. 
Without a second thought, you kiss him back. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press your lips to his. It's almost animalistic the way James is kissing you and it only lasts a few seconds before he's disconnecting your lips and resting his forehead onto yours. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pants, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have kissed you without asking you—"
     "Oh, shut up," you grumble and kiss him again. He accepts the kiss and spins you around. He uses his arm to hoist you onto the sink and deepen the kiss. You hold onto him and wince when your hip accidentally hits the faucet. James pulls away and looks at you like he can't believe what just happened. 
"Okay, so maybe I am in love with you," he finally admits and his chest is heaving from all the emotions. 
You crack a smile, "I'm in love with you too, James," you admit and touch his cheek. "Only, you can't act like a prick to me when you can't deal with your emotions. You should have told me all these feelings instead of sulking like a child." 
James nods and squeezes his eyes shut, "I was just so angry at myself," he whispers.
"I know, Sirius said that was the reason."
James chuckles with a roll of his eyes, "How does Sirius suddenly know my emotions better than I do? He's usually the emotional wreck!" 
You adjust his glasses a little, "He's just observant," you say, "and you're stubborn."
James pulls you in, holding you close to him as he dips and kisses your neck. He hums against your skin and whispers, "I'm such a fool, can you forgive me?" he asks, basically pleads, "I'm just, I was jealous."
You laugh, "Oh, I know. But, James, you know you have no reason to be jealous of anyone."
James whines and looks at you with his famous doe eyes; "I have every reason to be jealous. I'm jealous of the way Peter laughs at your jokes, or how Remus bonds over books with you. I'm jealous of Sirius and how he makes you laugh, and I'm jealous of every boy that looks your way. And worst of all, I'm jealous of the sun because it shines on you every day and I can't," he sounds like a lovesick idiot. He's barely making sense. 
You look at him seriously, "James. You are the sun. You're my sun." 
James looks into your eyes and bats his eyelashes innocently. He says, "So, you forgive me for being a wanker?" It's obvious he wants to make you laugh and he succeeds as you chuckle and playfully and lightly swat his cheek. 
"I'll forgive you," you say, "for now."
James pouts but he also lifts you and spins you around. He drops you on the ground, his hands at your hips and kisses your forehead. "I'll take it, love. Now, let's tell our friends we aren't mad at each other anymore."
"I was never really mad with you," you point out with a snort as James takes your hand. 
James squints, and looks behind his shoulder at you. "Yeah, you were," he says but when you shake your head he decides not to argue with you and just smiles, "Okay, fine, then let's go tell our friends I'm not being a baby anymore."
"Much better," you beam with a giggle and James realizes with a hopeless smile that he wants to be the only reason you ever giggle like that again. 
Merlin, he really is madly in love with you.
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verstappen-cult · 5 months ago
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oscar and reader meet-cute type thing. like he spills his coffee on her and the relationship stems from their
You scribble the name of another customer on a cup before placing it on the counter, immediately going back to serve another customer.
"Hi," You hear a male voice, brown eyes looking at you from behind round glasses. You've seen him before. Countless times. However, you still don't know his name. He always ask for a lemon pie and chai latte, and sits at the same table near the window.
"Hey," You reply with a smile on your face. The one you have reserved for your favorite customers; like the old lady from across the street who comes in every day for an early cup of tea, or the couple that likes to work sitting by the counter and are always chatting away with you and your co-workers as you spend the day making coffee. "the usual?"
Then, he smiles, the pad of his fingers touching the frame of his glasses to avoid them from falling. "Oh… yes, please."
"I'll bring it to you." He nods, a faint blush covering his cheeks. And just like that turns around and walks to his favorite table, pulls out a book and waits.
You prepare his order, along with a few more. Once it is ready you walk around the corner, even though one of your co-workers is in charge of bringing orders to the customers, you want to be the one bringing this one to this stranger.
He looks up at you when sees you approaching, the same blush of earlier adorning his cheeks.
“Thank you.” He says with that charming smile which you return. But as you’re going to walk away, his next words stop you from doing so. “I wanted to formally apologise.” He avoids looking at you and it’s cute.
“There’s really no need.” You try to reassure him, but he shakes his head and puts the book down. “It was not your fault. It was an accident.”
“But still,” He bites the inside of his cheek and this time looks directly into your eyes. “I’m not that clumsy, it’s just that—”
You place a hand on his shoulder and he follows the movement. “These things happen. And thank god it was iced coffee that time.”
The stranger laughs, finally relaxing. “I’m sorry, really, really sorry.”
“Well, I might forgive you if you tell me your name.”
“Oscar.” He is quick to say. “I was trying to ask you something the other day… when that happened.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” You’re bold enough to sit on the chair in front of him, forgetting all about your job for a few minutes. “But you ran out of here before I could ask you about it, Oscar”
“I didn’t ran.” He tries to defend himself, which only makes you giggle like a schoolgirl. “Whatever,” Oscar rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the tea. You try very hard not to lock at the way he licks his lips. You fall miserably, of course. “I was trying to ask you if you would be interested in going out? With me, I mean.”
It’s your turn to blush and avoid the eye contact. You really thought he was just being nice, like most of the customers are, but now you realise he was actually flirting with you. And well, you’re not exactly the smartest when it comes to boys and the dating life.
“You really wanna go out with me?”
Oscar tilts his head to the side and a smirk shows up on his face. “Why would I come every week if I don’t even live or work in this side of the city?” Your eyes widen at his confession. You thought he lived nearby and that’s why he spent his time in the coffee shop.
“For me?” There’s disbelief in your words.
Oscar tries to look nonchalant, and shrugs. “I’m not the smartest, okay? It took me spilling my coffee on you to gather the courage to ask you out.”
You play with a strand of your hair and stand up, not really wanting to leave him. “Well, I’ll accept to go on a date with you if you promise not to spill anything on me.” Oscar laughs, lifting his hands in surrender.
“I promise to behave.” And he says it with such an innocent look on his face that it makes you feel something weird in your belly.
“My shift ends in an hour, if you want to wait for me.”
You don’t wait for his answer, but when you’re finally free and gathering your things to leave, Oscar is still sitting on his favorite table, waiting for you.
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sweetbans29 · 5 months ago
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Teach Me: The Tragedy of Conflict (vi) - PB
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Pairing: Paige Bueackers x Reader
Previous Part & Next Part
Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.
Warnings: suggestive, tiny pains, bigger pains
Word Count: 4.1k
Sweetbans Masterlist & Teach Me Masterlist
AN: You knew it was coming soon.
Over the next few weeks, Paige's internal battle continues to grow. If she thought she was struggling before, each growing day continues to add even more thoughts and doubts that she has when it comes to you. But that isn't the only thing growing, her craving for you has exponentially increased since the last lesson.
Paige thinks about how intimate the two of you were at the most inconvenient times. She pictures you lying on her bed, half naked when she is studying. Her mind replays the sounds you made when her lips were on your neck while she was conditioning in practice. She closes her eyes in class and sees your back arching and hears you saying her name over and over again and all she wants is more.
But the last few weeks have been dry. No lessons, no 'practicing' as you would like to call it, just Paige longing for any touch she could get from you. Even those felt scarce.
Paige is studying with Azzi when she feels like she is going to combust.
"I need something, anything. I have been itching for weeks now," Paige says. The same book has been turned to the same page for the entirety of their study session. Azzi on the other hand was making good progress on her paper.
"Paige. I have been telling you for weeks to tell her how you feel. You are the one who has chosen to ignore any and all of my advice." Azzi says.
"It is not that simple - we freaking live together. What if she doesn't feel the same? That is how many years of friendship thrown away?" Paige says in frustration. She is getting heated.
Azzi laughs.
"What could possibly be funny about this?" Paige says pushing Azzi's computer.
"It is that simple. Just tell the girl you love her and I am sure it will all work out." Azzi doesn't know how much more blunt she can be without flat-out saying that you love Paige. Azzi's suspicions were confirmed that night you walked out of the bar with tears rolling down your face.
"F-that, I will not be the one to talk first," Paige says fed up with the conversation she initiated. She begins packing up her things.
"Where are you going? You haven't even started your assignment." Azzi says as she watches her frantic friend.
"I am going home to change and then WE are going out," Paige says.
"Paige, I don't want to go out tonight," she says.
"Come on, drinks on me," Paige says trying to bribe her to come.
"Fine, drinks AND food on you," Azzi says as she saves her paper and starts to get ready.
The two of them go to Paige's favorite local spot and meet up with some other teammates. They are all having a blast - drinking a little (or a lot) more than they should be for a Tuesday night but no one cared. Practice the next day wasn't until the afternoon so they could sleep in and nurse their hangovers all morning.
It is just after midnight when Paige gets a call from you.
"Hey B, where-are you at a bar?" You say when you hear Paige pick up the phone with a lingering 'hello'.
"Indeed I am!" She yells. "You are the smartest," Paige says with a giggle.
"I am coming to get you," you say as you rummage around your room to find something to throw over your PJs.
"Okay, I will sit right here until you get here," Paige says as she sits on the stool of someone else's table. The people give her a questioning look. "Oops, maybe not there," Paige says moving. "I will sit right here until you get here," Paige says as she is sitting one seat over but still at the same table.
"Did you get that? I moved." Paige says making sure you know where she is at. It doesn't matter as none of what she is saying is adding up since you can't see her at all.
"Okay B, don't move," you tell her.
"Imma be a statue," Paige says as she thinks she is staying still as a pole but is actually swaying to the music.
You let out a little laugh, "I'll see you soon."
You hang up and find Paige's location on your Find My app. You head to the bar, parking right out front and leaving your hazards on. Walking in, you immediately regret the decision to throw on just an oversized sweatshirt of Paige's and wish you would have opted for some sweats as well.
As you make your way through the crowd - which is surprising for a Tuesday night, and find Azzi and Evina first.
"Have you guys seen Paige?" You ask looking around.
Evina shakes her head no. Azzi nods her head over to the little stage in the corner as Paige steps up to sing karaoke. You are also now shaking your head as you watch your best friend make a fool of herself. The more you think about it in the seconds before the song starts, you think it is better to have her upset with you rather than videos of her singing karaoke drunk in a bar circulating the internet.
You weave your way to the stage and grab her arm, removing the mic from her hand. She yells your name in excitement until she sees you are taking her away from the spotlight.
"Let's get you home B," you say as try to get her off the stage.
"No, I wanna singggg," Paige whines.
"You can sing in the car, let's go." You pull her off the stage then wrap an arm around her waist to steady her. "Trust me, you will thank me later."
Paige lets you guide her out of the crowd, her arm now around your shoulder as she waves to her other teammates. You just shake your head and laugh as the girls follow the two of you.
Once you get back to your car, three girls pile in the back as you stick Paige in the passenger seat. You drive them back to your apartment building and begin to part ways.
"Thank you for coming to get us," Evina says with a hiccup.
"Always," you say as you wave goodbye to them.
Paige is asleep and you know once drunk Paige is asleep, she is not the easiest to get to do things.
"B, wake up. We need to go inside," you say shaking her arm. She brushes you off and turns the other way.
"B. I want to go to bed, can you please get moving." You beg the girl who makes no movement to move from your car.
Finally, you get tired enough to grab her arm and pull her out of the car. Her eyes only open a little as she now has to hold her own weight Her arms come to wrap around you, hugging you and nestling her head into the crook of your neck.
"Hi B," you say as you rub her back with one hand and close the door with the other, making sure to lock your car in the process.
"Smell like heaven, favorite smell," she says as her breath tickles your neck.
"Thanks B," you chuckle as you try to shift her to one side of you so you can walk the two of you up to your apartment. Her head stays hidden in your neck as she is now sidestepping with you as you lead her home.
Once the two of you are in your apartment you take her to her room.
"No," she says like a little kid.
"B, you are the one who was just about to sleep in my car." You say.
"Want yours," she says with a pout.
You roll your eyes. At this point you let her go and she puts her hand out to steady herself on the wall. You walk away from her and remove her sweatshirt. When you do, your shirt rides up giving Paige the perfect view of your bare back before you pull it down and walk into your room.
Paige instantly follows you into your room and plops down on your bed - her mind tells her she wants you but her body is exhausted.
She rolls over as you come to her. You start by taking her shoes off and placing them on the ground. She then lifts her arms.
"Flip over," you tell her as she rolls back over so she is lying face down on your bed. You pull at the sleeves of her jacket and remove it. She is left in her pants and tank top. Good enough, you tell yourself as you go to turn the light off.
When you finally lay down you feel Paige shift over to you. Her arm comes to hang around your waist.
You sigh.
Paige's head comes to find the crook of your neck again, her lips painfully close to the sweet spot on your neck.
Little to Paige's knowledge, she has been on your mind as much as you have been on hers.
You lean in just enough to have her lips meet your skin and you release the softest moan. Paige's hand grips your waist as she brings you closer to her, lips starting to move on your neck.
You savor her movements as she begins to pepper kisses up towards your lips.
Before her lips meet yours, you snap back into reality and remember she is not in her right mind.
"We shouldn't do this," you whisper. Paige's movements continue - not hearing what you said.
You place your hand on her cheek and bring her face up to yours. She leans in wanting to feel your lips on hers.
"You're drunk, B," you say. "You should go to sleep."
She looks into your eyes with what you believe to be love but tell yourself it is the alcohol.
She holds your gaze then kisses your nose and curls back up into your side.
The next day at practice Paige struggles and Geno is not having any of it. By the end of it, Paige looks like she has taken a beating. Everyone goes into the locker room to shower and head out but Paige stays back to go through more reps.
"B, you need rest." You say as you walk back out to see her working on her midrange jumper.
You know she isn't going to stop until she is content with her shot so you stand there watching her shot.
After about 10 minutes she finally takes a break.
"Adjust your thumb, it is going to lax when you release." You tell her.
She goes up for another shot, making the change you recommended. It goes beautifully into the basket. She shakes her head.
"I still don't know how you do it," she says a smile finally dawning her lips. "And why didn't you say that when Geno was drilling into me, huh?"
You laugh. "Because then you wouldn't learn to not drink in the middle of the week."
She looks at you with disbelief. She throws the ball at you and you catch it, dribbling it then shooting it.
Paige watches you in awe.
"Do it again," she says. You shake your head no, not really sure why you put it up in the first place.
"Please," she says as she brings you another ball, stands right in front of you, and places it in your hands. "Please."
You close your eyes and proceed to do a shootaround, Paige feeding you the ball. She watches you, eyes never leaving you. When you are finished you are slightly out of breath. You didn't miss a single one which even you found impressive.
Paige walks over to you.
"That was incredible - why did you ever stop?" She asks, not realizing what she is asking.
You sigh and sit on the ground. Patting the spot next to you. She sits across from you, wanting to see you.
"Before we met, I was set on going to UConn to play ball - there was no doubt in anyone who saw me play. They all knew I was going to play for the best," you say referring to Geno.
Paige bites back the joke she wants to make about how much you are hyping yourself up right now - she doesn't want to jeopardize your comfort in this moment.
"And no, I am not just bragging about myself - you can ask Coach yourself. He came to watch me play when I was in 7th grade, already counting down the days until I made my debut here." You say.
"That all changed when my mom left us on my 13th birthday. I woke up that morning excited for the day only to walk downstairs to see a single piece of luggage and my parents fighting. They kept yelling about me and what was going to be my future. She said she was tired of losing her daughter and that I cared more about basketball than I did about her. It was ironic because it was her and dad that taught me how to play. She was my mother and she believed I didn't love her and chose the sport over her. To be fair, I loved the sport more than I loved a lot of things, but never her. She cursed out my dad for ruining my life, saying things about how he was going to break me and I would never make it under his pressure. She didn't understand the relationship my dad and I have. I destroyed my parent's marriage and was the reason she left." You say and quickly wipe away the tears. Paige has scooted her way to you and has taken hold of one of your hands.
"I watched her walk out that day - what was meant to be the best birthday turned into the worst. I was sitting on the stairs as she walked out. She turned to look at me but didn't say a thing. She had said all she had to say. And she walked out."
"My game changed after that - had me in my head. I quit shortly after that. Quit playing that is, started learning the why behind all of it. Behind every play, every move, as many players as I could. I thought understanding the why behind the game would help me understand why my mom left. It didn't of course, but I was still just a kid you know? I didn't understand it fully - I still don't understand it fully."
"My dad saw me deep dive into learning the game from a different perspective and saw how I was excelling in learning the game faster than I learned how to play it. We both sort of just threw ourselves into it - neither of us knowing how to cope. It is how we connect with one another."
"I have started shooting again - but it still hurts. I don't know if there will ever be a time when I am shooting that I don't think back to that day. It is like a blessing and a curse. I feel free when I have a ball in my hand but am reminded of the cost. It clears my head but also opens old wounds."
Paige sits there and listens to every word you say. Out of the 5+ years of friendship, you have only ever mentioned your mom once. Paige remembers when you told her about your mom in the park but you never mentioned this. She feels tears well up in her own eyes.
Her hands come up to hold your face. You can't look her in the eyes so you just close them. She pulls you in and holds you.
She doesn't say anything - not that she would know what to say. All she knows how to do is hold you.
Once the sun begins to set and the gym begins to darken, the two of you head back home.
The team decided to hit the town that weekend after the game. You tag along, knowing you could use some fun. You stick to your classic while the team does a whole variety of different shots and drinks.
"Take a shot with us!" Evina yells as she orders another round.
"You know she doesn't, she likes her classic," Paige answers for you. You push past her, already feeling the effects of your first drink.
"No, I'll take one," you say, already shooting it back before Paige can stop you. She just watches you in surprise. You grab hers and throw it back.
"Ok, I think someone needs to slow down," Paige says and tries to grab your drink. You just box her out and tell her no.
"Let me have some fun B," you say. "I need a little fun."
Paige puts her hands up and lets you do what you want.
You make your way to the dance floor and start dancing with anyone and everyone. Paige watches you from a distance.
"Go dance with her," Azzi says as she comes up to Paige.
"Nah, she can have her fun," Paige responds and takes another sip.
Paige hates seeing others hands on your body but she isn't going to do anything to stop them. Rather she is going to find her own distraction.
By the early hours of the morning, Azzi can't find Paige anywhere and takes it upon herself to make sure you get home safely. When she takes you to your apartment, she realizes you don't have your key and is forced to take you to hers. You sleep on her couch.
You wake up to a major hangover, wanting nothing more than to be in your own bed. As you make your way out of your friend's apartment and stumble to your own, you come across the same realization that she had last night. You are keyless.
You knock hoping Paige is home. You are about to give up when you hear the ruffling of the lock.
When the door opens you are not met with your best friend, but some girl you believe is on the cheer squad.
You look at her with confusion and walk right past her. Even in your hungover state you know the first rule you and Paige had about the apartment was to not bring anyone back after a night out. All flings were to be done anywhere but there. You are quickly sobered up as you walk into Paige's room expecting to find her asleep in her bed but she is not. You walk back out into the living room - she's not on the couch.
"She's in her room," the girl says as she wraps herself in one of your sweatshirts. She probably thinks it's Paiges. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. She points to your room.
You push the door open slightly to reveal a sleeping Paige, naked in your bed. Clothes scattered throughout the room.
You grab a few of your things, desperately trying not to look at her.
"I don't think she will want you to take her stuff," the girl says as sees you packing some things into a bag.
You ignore her and finish grabbing what you need.
"Hey! I was talking to you!" The girl says loud enough to cause Paige to stir.
"Babe, why are you yelling?" Paige's sleepy voice cuts through the air., as she turns in time to catch her eyes meet yours before walking out.
Paige begins to scramble to her feet, forgetting the fact that she is butt naked, and attempts to go after you but you slam the door and are long gone.
"Paigey, come back to bed," the girl says, already lying in your bed. She's ready for another round.
Paige tunes her out, as all she can think about is how royally she messed up.
Paige is pacing the apartment trying to figure out what happened the night before. She swore she and the cheerleader were heading back to her place. The thing is, Paige doesn't remember being that drunk. She can pretty much remember everything.
Paige sent the girl away after you had left, making sure to get your sweatshirt back from her before she did.
Paige knows she messed up - you guys really only had the one rule and she had broken that. Not only that but she has brought another girl back to your room. What the hell was she thinking?
She tried calling you multiple times but it went straight to voicemail. She then tries calling all of her teammates to see if you went to any of them - only two of them answered.
"Don't worry P, she's probably just sleeping off the hangover from last night - she was super wasted." That was the only real response she got.
Paige decides to go to Azzi's to see if she has seen you. Azzi peaks her head through the door. Once she sees it's Paige, she steps outside and closes the door.
"Azzi - I know she is in there, let me see her," Paige says.
"Paige, I don't think that is the best idea," Azzi's voice is soft.
She tries to go by her but Azzi grabs her arms and looks in her eyes.
"Just give her some time, okay?"
"I don't know what happened," Paige says in defeat.
"I know P, I've got her. Just go get some rest okay?" Azzi says.
You don't go to the apartment for the next few days. You avoid going to any place Paige might be - that includes staying away from the team. The first time you see her is at practice on Tuesday, seeing that you weren't there on Monday.
The team is in the gym and Paige is anxiously waiting to see if you will be there. When you walk in alongside Geno and the other assistant coaches she is relieved but also now extremely nervous.
You don't give her any attention throughout practice. Paige even tries altering her shot to get you to come over to tell her how to fix it but you never do. All she gets is Geno yelling at her to focus or he will make her do suicides.
At the end of practice, you slip out before the girls leave the locker. Little to your knowledge, Paige never went in and was waiting in the parking lot for you.
She calls your name. You hesitate but keep walking. She runs to you and grabs your arm.
"Don't touch me," you say pulling it away.
Paige is taken aback, losing her words.
You look at her waiting for her to say something, anything really. When she doesn't, you speak.
"Okay if you won't talk, I will. I told you the darkest part of me - a part of me that less than a handful of people know. I opened up to you because I love you. I love you, Paige. I thought you felt the same, I thought I saw it in your eyes but then coming home the other day and seeing you brought another girl home. There was a fire that burned within my veins that fizzled out leaving nothing but disappointment. It wasn't that you slept with another girl because that wasn't the issue. The issue was that we have one rule. One rule. Not relating to our lessons but to our home. Our one rule, thrown out the window. See it might have been different if I walked in and you weren't in MY bed. But that is the only thing I can see in my head Paige - what the two of you were doing in my safe space."
Paige wants to say something but nothing comes out.
You sigh. You feel defeated.
"I don't know what to say B, I don't have the energy to fight with you." You look at her for the first time in days - your eyes are tired. "I forgive you. But I need to make myself clear when I say I need space."
Paige wants to argue, tell you how big of a mistake she has made and how much she regrets it. She wants to tell you she loves you and has for years now. She wants to tell you she isn't going to leave you. That the girl meant nothing and all the girls over the years have been a distraction for her - a distraction to get you off her mind. But none of that comes out.
You nod and get in your car and drive away.
Paige watches you leave. She doesn't know what to feel more, the peace of knowing you love her or the pain in knowing you are so much better than she is. She doesn't deserve you - that is the thought that clings to her.
She doesn't deserve you but needs you to survive.
AN: It almost feels worse when forgiveness is given instead of asked for. Let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for all your love and support 💙
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exhaslo · 1 year ago
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CAN YOU MAKE LIKE A SUB SHY READER X NERD DOM MIGUEL? LIKE READER IS LIKE QUEEN BEE BUT LIKE IS THE SHY AND QUIET POPULAR GIRL AND MIGUEL IS THE HOT NERD AND LIKE THEY ARE HANGING OUT AND THEY START TO GET ALL TOUCHY AND READER HETS ALL SHY AND FLUSTERED AND STARTS GRINDING HER PRINCESS PART ON HIS THIGHS AND LIKE SHE IS A SQUIRTER NOT LIKE CUMMING AND SHE GETS EMBARRASSED BY THAT AND MIGUEL BABIES HER AND STARTS FUCKING HER ROUGH BUT NOT TELLING HER DEGRADING NAMES LIKE SLUT OR NONE OF THAT, HE CALLS HER HIS BABY AND ALL THOSE CUTE NAMES AND HE STARTS GIVING HER AFTERCARE AND BEING ALL FLUFFY AND SFW AND SHE REVEALS TO HIM THAT SHE IS A LITTLE<333?
Sorry I took so long! I was in New Orleans for the weekend! I'm all fueled up for writing now! Haha!
Summary: Your casual study group turns into something a little out of hand~
Warning: Minors DNI, fluff, smut, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya'll), aftercare, squirting
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You were the life of the party. Everyone loved you and everyone wanted you to come to their party, gathering, anything. As long as you were there, there was life. You were practically the Queen Bee of the campus. Your beauty and personality shined bright. Everyone wanted to be you and everyone wanted to be with you.
Including Miguel.
Miguel was not shy himself from being popular. He was a hunk at the college and the smartest person there. Everyone wanted a chance with him. Everyone wanted him to help with their homework. The sexiest nerd whom everyone wanted a taste of.
Including you.
So, when word got out that a neutral friend had the two of you coming to their study group, everyone wanted in. This was no longer a study group, this had turned into a full fledge party. You could feel the sweat roll down your neck as you smiled towards your friends and strangers alike. Everyone trying to talk to you. Everyone trying to get your attention.
"Oh! Of course, um...Would you excuse me?" You laughed softly before escaping through the back door, "Jeez,"
"Escaped?" Miguel said with a soft chuckle. You jumped slightly,
"Y-Yes. I got cornered the moment I blinked."
"Awe, poor baby," Miguel teased as he drew closer to you, "Don't like being hovered over?"
You felt your cheeks burn as Miguel stood beside you. He was a freaking giant. You tried to say something, but only a stutter came out. Miguel smelled so good. Whatever cologne he was wearing was making you get closer to him. You squeaked lowly as Miguel fixed your hair, his fingers grazing your cheek,
"Hm? What's this? The most popular girl on campus is shy around men?" Miguel said almost cruelly.
"S-So...So what if I am?"
"Well, can't have that. Those vultures will eat you alive,"
"T-Then...Then help me practice," You muttered ever so lowly, believing that he could not hear you. Miguel's ears perked up as a casual smirk formed against his lips,
"How bold."
You gasped lowly as Miguel pulled your by the wrist. He looked around and took you inside the shed that was in the backyard. You could only feel your heart race as he cleared a space and sat down, patting his lap so casually. You were nervous, but excited. Miguel was the man of your dreams and he here was hiding with you.
"C'mon, can't be shy now." He hummed. You followed his order, sitting on his lap, "Good girl."
A shiver ran down your spine as he complemented you. You weren't sure if it was the liquor in your hand, but you drew closer to him. Miguel took notice and placed his finger against your lip,
"If my baby girl wants a kiss, you gotta earn it."
"E-Earn it?" You stuttered. Miguel played with the rim of your skirt,
"It's okay, baby. We're finally alone." Miguel stroked your cheek, watching you tremble from his touch, "I've been wanting this as much as you have. Who would have thought that you would be this shy?"
"I-It's not a...problem, right?" You asked.
"Course not, baby."
You couldn't help but smile. You wanted to kiss him, but he repeated once more about earning that kiss. You gave a small pout, wondering what he wanted. You bit your lower lip as Miguel started to rub circles around your waist. Subconsciously, you started to grind your hips against his thigh. Miguel's smirk only grew as you started to get into it,
"That's my baby girl," He cooed softly, "Keep going."
You whimpered low moans as the fabric of your panties and his jeans kept rubbing against your clit. Miguel hummed lowly as he finally kissed you, his fingers aiding your efforts. You gasped into the kiss, moaning lowly as he laid you down. You skirt was lifted upwards as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.
"M-Mig-Miguel~!" You cried out.
Miguel licked his lips as you squirted against his hand and your panties. His eyes sparkled as you kept apologizing. You tried to cover your face from embarrassment, but Miguel moved your hands. He captured your lips again as he undid his pants,
"How cute. Don't be sorry, baby," He groaned as he removed your panties, "This just means that your body wants me."
"Mig-"
"Shhh, it's going to be okay, bunny. You just lemme know when to stop and I'll stop. Can't have my sweet girl cry on me,"
You felt your hear flutter towards his words. Agreeing, you spread your legs for him, awaiting for him to sweep you away. Miguel kissed your neck as he pressed his tip against your entrance. He whispered sweet nothingness in your ear,
"I'll take good care of you, baby."
--------
"How does my dick feel inside your tight hole? Does my little shy girl like being fucked like a bunny in heat?"
Miguel had you on your knees, face pressed against the floorboards of the shed as he pounded your pussy roughly. He had been ravishing your throbbing hole for only five minutes and you were on the verge of losing your mind. You were a moaning mess as Miguel slapped your ass while his thick cock bruised your cervix with each thrust.
"What happened to my shy little bunny? You're being so loud now, everyone is going to hear you. Want them to know that this pussy belongs to me, baby? Huh? Is that what you want?" Miguel asked.
"Mhm~ Y-Yes!" You cried out, gasping as he slapped himself inside you rougher, "M-Miguel!"
"That's right, cum for me, baby."
Miguel groaned lowly as your pussy sucked him in more as you squirted around his cock. That beautiful white ring that formed around his dick was a sight to see. Not giving you a chance to rest, Miguel went to chase his own high. With a low, rumbling grunt, Miguel shoved himself deep, filling your womb.
You whimpered, shaking from the feeling. Miguel took a moment to catch his breathe before pulling out and fixing his clothes. He grabbed your panties, stuffing them in his pocket before fixing your skirt and picking you up. He checked outside the side, sighing in relief since everyone was still inside.
"Let me take you home. Can't leave my girl like this, can I?" He hummed.
You nuzzled your head against his chest, quietly agreeing with him. Once Miguel arrived at his apartment, he took you into the shower with him. He made sure to carefully wash each part of your body, enjoying your reaction and expressions. You were putty in the palm of his hands.
"Miguel?" You hummed lowly as he dried you.
"Yes?"
"I think we should have more...private lessons together...Y-You know...T-To help me..." You stuttered, ignoring his smirk. Miguel pecked your lips, moving your hands away,
"You didn't have to ask."
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Waaaaaaaa, I hope you liked it! Sorry I was so late with this response again!!!
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kjdkive · 6 months ago
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a nice surprise - l.jn
warnings: fwb, smut, nasty, fluffy, will make you feel single even if you're not, grammar mistakes
a's/n: thinking of making a part two cause this type of jeno is making me feel crazzy. also, part two?
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you shouldn't be really doing this, grabbing the key of his apartment jeno told you the location of in case of an emergency, but this is a real emergency and he isn't answering your texts, neither caring about the fact that you're ovulating and going crazy just at the thought of his touch. well, it's not like you have never been to his place alone, you've been here more times than you'd like to admit. but right now, you needed him like you needed oxygen. you don't think he will be angry, or will he? no, i mean, how could he say no to a horny-you in the middle of his living room?
"i guess i'll make myself comfortable." you layed on the couch and turned on the tv, played a random movie but you couldn't pay attention, you were just only thinking of jeno. 
40 minutes have passed and there's still not any signs of him, not even a reply to your text you sent him three hours ago. all of a sudden, you hear the locks of the door make sounds and you prepare yourself for maybe the best, maybe the worst. who knows? 
you watch the man you've been waiting for almost an hour now not notice you, he seemed stressed... maybe that's why he was not replying and just needed to be alone... did you fuck up? he dropped his backpack to the floor and took off his shoes and shirt, leaving himself with just the gray sweatpants he was wearing. three words: holy jesus fuck. 
"jesus." he said, getting shocked from the fact he hadn't see you there. "what are you doing here?" 
"hi, sorry, i grabbed the secret key you told me about and let myself in. i don't know, you weren't replying to my texts and i wanted to see you." 
"you wanted to see me..." he asks smiling as he sits down beside you "or to fuck me?" he grabs you by the waist and sits you down on his lap. 
"mmm, what is the correct answer to that right now?" you caress his hair and smile at him too. "is everything okay? i know letting myself in was weird but when you got here i noticed something was off." 
"aw, you worry about me, maybe you will get some." 
"oh my god, are my tactics working?" you ask, laughing. 
he kisses you as he grabs your face to have the control on the kiss. it's soft and not too short. 
"nothing to worry about, baby." he moves you again so both of your legs are on his sides. "i'm struggling to understand a class and i'm not having enough time to study because of my job, so yeah, it's just the normal stress of everyday." 
you give him a peck on the lips and cup his face with both of your hands and you just give him a soft look, you truly did not want him to stress out, he's the smartest, hard-working boy you know out there, he deserves a 100% scholarship and everything paid, not this. 
"you're really smart, though. like you make me feel really dumb sometimes when you start speaking engineer nerd lingo, it's also really hot." he giggles and you scratch his hair softly while still looking at him, you just feel his hand caress your lower back and sometimes your legs. "besides, hard work pays off and you know that. your job will let you grow on your career and well, we all need a major. just know that this stress will not last forever." you give him a kiss again and another one on his nose. 
"wow, you really will say all that to get some dick." he tells you and you smack his bare chest. 
"fuck you." 
"yeah, you're really trying." he laughs and stops to stare at his hands touching your legs, then your butt and at the end your waist. you get startled when he pushes you towards him lightly. and he kisses you, fervently, the way you've been wanting to get kissed all day. the "problem" right now is that he has never kissed you this passionately. the way his lips move against yours is making you feel something you've never felt before, not with him nor any men you've ever been with. 
"thank you, princess." he tells you. "you know i'm just joking, i do really appreciate your words and support." his eyes were shining as he looked at you. "and honestly, you being here was a nice surprise." 
"it was?" you ask him as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you grab his hand. he just kept staring at you, making it seem like he was admiring every single detail of your face. 
"mhm." and you just stayed there, looking at each other. you were still holding his left hand that was placed on your face and gave it a little kiss. as he sees you doing that, he doesn't let go of your hand and just softly gets your hand to his mouth for him to kiss it. "kiss me, y/n." 
and you do what he tells you to. you kiss him with the same passion he had just kissed you with a few seconds ago. he introduces his tongue into your mouth, playing with yours. it's getting more desperate second after second, his hands that were placed on your waist were now going down to your butt to grab it and force you to grind on him, feeling him very close as you were wearing a dress so he had easy access. one of your hands stayed on his shoulder and your other hand slowly traced a line down his abs so you can grab the hem of his sweatpants.
he kept guiding your hips with his hands and stopped kissing your mouth to move to your neck, giving wet and sloppy kisses on it as he grabbed your hair and tugged it down to give himself more space to kiss, suck and lick.
"come on, baby, keep grinding on me." jeno whispers on your ear. "you're making me feel so good, princess. look so beautiful, so pretty."
his praise was just the little help you needed to moan loudly on his ear and
"that's it, baby, do you feel me? do you feel my hard cock?"
"yes, jeno, i feel it." you moan.
"just for you, princess, only for you, always for you."
you tug jeno's hair as you moan on his ear, making him understand you had just came with the way your legs were shaking. you think you're in for a long ride tonight.
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seiwas · 1 year ago
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₊˚⊹。 5:55 p.m. | oikawa tooru
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wc: 709 summary: oikawa comes home missing a step in the ‘oikawa family routine’.  contains: f!reader, papa!oikawa, baby girl oikawa, use of term ‘baby’, baby/child/kid, being parents, food descriptions, oikawa coming home to his lil family of three!, oikawa aged up to pro. a/n: thought of this lil blurb today and had to get it down !! i love papa oikawa my heart is bursting !!
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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Oikawa comes home in the late afternoon.
He takes his shoes off by the genkan, and keeps a hop in his step despite a full day of volleyball; being a setter might be what he does best, but bursting into his house, shouting his usual 'baby, i'm home!' might just be what he loves the most.
And he's about to do it, as he steps into the hallway, gym bag on his shoulder and mouth open pre-yell, but he stops, because—
—there peering up at him is his little girl, greeting him with an index finger to her lips as if to say: 'shhh, papa, be quiet ...'.
When he looks further behind her, to the couch, he sees you, fast asleep with your right arm folded to cushion your head, and the other hanging over the edge.
"Mama sleep," she whispers, almost giggling, and he thinks the saying could never be more true; her laugh is infectious (or maybe just to her papa)—he'd never be immune.
Oikawa's eyes widen and he mouths an 'oh' as he lets down his gym bag quietly. He crouches low, coming eye-to-eye with his mini-me, the splitting image of him except for her smile—which is yours, undoubtedly.
He stretches his arms out, welcoming her in, and she rushes to him, giggling, her brown curls bouncing with each step closer to him.
This is the Oikawa family routine: when papa arrives home, he gets 3 kisses, one on each cheek and the last one on his nose. Then, he lifts his little girl up, supports her with one arm while he kisses you and pulls you close.
This time, the routine isn't quite as complete but he still has his little girl on his arm, perched by his hip kissing his cheek. Her little hands grab on to his face to place the final kiss to his nose and he scrunches it, joking with her, a remix of his favorite tune as she giggles some more.
"Did my baby sleep too?" he whispers, feet light as he makes his way to the kitchen, past you.
His little girl nods, "Small only." and he thinks it's so cute, that she's the smartest girl in the world for knowing what to say—even though he knows 'small' isn't exactly the right word to describe it.
He lets her down on the kitchen counter before opening the fridge to check what's available: chicken and a few vegetables. Then, he gathers what he needs and places them on the table.
"Should we make dinner for mama?" he asks, a glint in his eyes that can only mean one thing. 
His little girl perks up, brown eyes widening and gleaming just the same, a perfect reflection of his as she nods and says, "Egg!"
He laughs, volume restrained, but he kisses her forehead and replies, "Okay, egg for mama it is."
By the end of it, there's an empty carton (or two) of eggs he's used (failed attempts to make Omurice until its decent, but still half as good as what you always do). His little girl sprinkles the last few bits of green onion before you round the corner just in time, eyes slightly puffed and his love right there, laced in your sleepy smile.
"Mama!" his (your) little girl shouts, making grabby hands at her papa to let her down.
You shake your head and laugh, smiling just like your little girl as you drag your feet nearer. The food is resting on the counter as Oikawa picks her up, keeping her perched on his hip as he walks towards you.
It’s a warm, fuzzy feeling sitting in his stomach that's been there for a while, even before you two became three, that's reminding him of how good his life is, coming home to you, sleep lines and all running across your cheek.
When you meet in the middle of your kitchen, you don't forget the Oikawa family routine, tiptoeing up to kiss him as he pulls you closer, your little girl squished in-between.
"I'm home, baby." he whispers, nose-to-nose, just as you let his lips go, and you laugh, his favorite tune, the original, before your baby girl made it her own.
"Welcome home."
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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juneberrie · 7 months ago
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MONSTER HIGH CHARACTERS WITH A DITZY!PARTNER
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requested || monster high masterlist
───featuring: frankie stein, cleo de nile, draculaura, clawd wolf, clawdeen wolf, deuce gorgon, heath burns, jackson jekyll, holt hyde, lagoona blue
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FRANKIE STEIN
she's 15 days old
she's also kind of ditzy
its okay!! you guys can figure things out together
and by together i mean that 99% of the time she's gonna ask clawdeen
CLEO DE NILE
sometimes she gets kind of annoyed but its like an eye roll and explain kind of annoyed
a long sigh and she's like "okay so"
she loves you though!!
if anyone else tries to get annoyed by your ditziness she's going to [get someone else to] beat them up
DRACULAURA
another ditzy girl!!!
she's such a sweetheart she'll be like "oh no its okay!! i think its..."
she'll try to explain but then get fed up and ask frankie, who asks clawdeen
CLAWD WOLF
he's kind of like deuce and clawdeen
he's pretty chill about it but he'll get really protective on occasion
type of guy to always have an arm around you or something like that ESPECIALLY if you're somewhere crowded
kind of bad at explaining things but he'd try his best before he gives up and asks clawdeen
CLAWDEEN WOLF
oh she adores you
her best friends are also kind of ditzy so she's used to it
ask her to explain anything and she probably has a preprepared explanation bc 9 times out of 10 drac or frankie have already asked
will absolutely tear anyone to pieces if they make any negative comments about you
she does NOT hold back in arguments its so funny
DEUCE GORGON
he's totally chill about it
he's not a genius but he's not heath levels of stupid
he's definitely the smartest one in his friend group
if you ask him to explain something he'd be like "oh yeah that, um i think it's [xyz]"
def the kind of guy to defend you (let's be real all of the ghouls are but him esp)
HEATH BURNS
y'all are two peas in a pod
well. you're ditzy and he's.... heath (read: stupid)
you could ask him what color the sky is and he'd say "purple" so confidently
actually don't even bother asking him anything tbh
if you did ask he'd be like "hold on <3 CLAWD." and asks him
JACKSON JEKYLL
he's not ditzy but he's ridiculously awkward so he kind of knows how you feel
i genuinely can't think of anything else for him im so sorry
HOLT HYDE
does not care 🙏
he'd probably be like "i dont get it either lmao"
would google it though or ask someone who [he thinks] knows
he's basically like heath (except he doesn't set himself on fire every 3 minutes)
LAGOONA BLUE
she's perf for you
if you ask her anything she'd be like "oh its alright, love, its..."
she's such a sweetheart
if anyone tried to make fun of you she's immediately like "hey no we're not gonna do that" and chews them out <3
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oceandolores · 3 months ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 2
Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader
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"𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦,"
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summary: as time progressed, Joel notice something's wrong and then at one night, You stood at his door, looking disheveled and distressed, your face streaked with tears and your clothes rumpled. 
warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.
CHAPTER 2
masterlist of the series!
previous | chapter one
next | chapter three
Saturday arrived with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake. The dinner invitation at Tommy and Maria's hung over your head like a dark cloud. Joel had decided to come, partly due to Ellie and Tommy's insistence, and also because it was a chance to catch up with your family, the Gibsons.
The aftermath of last Sunday's beating from your father for abandoning your duty at church service had left you changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a quiet resilience. Your body was still sore, the bruises and scars not fully healed, making even the simplest movements painful.
You worried some of the wounds might be infected, as you had been running a high fever and coughing for days. Your mother was concerned but too scared to take you to the hospital. In this small town, everyone knew each other, and a trip to the doctor would raise questions. Your family's reputation, especially with your father being the town preacher, was paramount. So, your mother did her best to care for you at home, but it wasn't enough.
You still went to school, hiding your condition under oversized sweaters. You had no close friends, just a few acquaintances, but you were well-known as one of the prettiest girls and the preacher's daughter. Boys liked you, always trying to get close, but you kept your distance. One day at school, Ellie noticed you didn't look well and asked if you were sick. You lied, saying you were fine.
"You sure? You don't look so good," Ellie said, her eyes filled with concern.
"I'm fine, Ellie, really. Just tired from studying for finals," you replied, forcing a smile.
Ellie frowned, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will," you promised, though you weren't sure if it was a promise you could keep.
As one of the smartest students, your teachers noticed your decline and sent you to the school's psychologist. The psychologist observed your physical and mental changes, but you lied again, blaming sleepless nights spent preparing for graduation.
As your family prepared to go to the Millers, you told your mother you might not be able to go because your body was still sore. The scars hadn't healed, and you worried about infection. You'd had a high fever for days.
"Mama, I don't think I can go tonight. My body still hurts so much," you said, your voice weak.
Your mother, worried but too afraid to confront your father, insisted you come. "You know your father will be angry if you don't come. It's better if you come, even if you're not feeling well," she said, her voice trembling.
Reluctantly, you agreed. For the first time in a while, you applied makeup to cover the bruises on your skin, arms, and the corners of your eyes and cheeks. Your father reminded you to behave, to maintain decorum as a preacher's daughter, and not to embarrass him.
"Remember, you represent this family. Behave yourself and don't cause any trouble," your father said sternly.
"Yes, Father," you replied, obedient as always, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. The weight of his expectations bore down on you, threatening to crush the fragile strength you had left.
At Tommy and Maria's house, Joel and Ellie were already there. Your family arrived at their front door, your mother's grip on the pasta dish tightening as if it were a lifeline.
Maria opened the door with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of your family. "Oh, Evelyn! Father Gibson! It's so good to see you all. Come in, come in!"
Your mother returned the smile, albeit a bit strained. "Thank you, Maria. We brought some pasta for adding some to the dishes."
"Oh, Evelyn, this pasta looks amazing. Thank you so much," Maria said, taking the dish and placing a gentle hand on your mother's arm. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."
"It's no trouble at all," your mother replied, her voice soft. "It's the least we could do."
Maria led you all inside, the house filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. You stepped in and immediately met Ellie.
"Hey, how are you? You didn't look so good at school the other day," she said, her voice full of concern.
"I'm okay, just a bit under the weather," you lied, trying to sound convincing.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Ellie asked again, her eyes narrowing with worry. "You really didn't look well. Are you getting enough rest?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying for finals."
Ellie wasn't convinced but nodded. "Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know, okay? We can study together if that helps."
"Thank you, Ellie. I appreciate it," you said, grateful for her concern but knowing you had to keep your secrets hidden.
Maria, finishing her conversation with your mother, turned her attention to you. "Sweetheart, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?"
In front of your parents, you forced another smile. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired," you said, your voice steady but hollow.
Your mother quickly added to the lie, her voice filled with false cheerfulness. "Oh, you know Maria. She's almost graduate and been working so hard on her studies. It's just stress, really, right honey?" You nodded to your mother.
Your father, ever the manipulator, chimed in with a practiced smile. "She's fine, just been studying hard for her finals. Nothing to worry about."
Maria looked unconvinced but didn't press further. It was just another sad reminder of the facade your family maintained, the preacher's household hiding its cracks beneath a veneer of perfection.
You moved further into the house, your father's charm offensive continuing as he greeted Tommy. "Tommy, good to see you! How's everything going?"
"Going well, Tony. Just keeping busy with the business and this little guy," Tommy said, gesturing to his newborn son, Luke.
"He's adorable," you said, managing a genuine smile as you looked at the baby. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders lightened.
"Thank you," Tommy said proudly. "He's a handful, but we're loving every minute."
As you continued to mingle, you felt Joel's eyes on you. He was helping Tommy with the food, but his concern was palpable. He approached you, his expression serious.
You smiled at Joel, remembering the last time you interacted with him by the lake. That memory was a rare bright spot amidst the pain your father had caused after it.
"Hey, Joel. Good to see you here," you said, wondering why he decided to come. You tried to lighten the mood, despite the pain radiating through your body with every movement. The fabric of your clothes rubbed against your skin, irritating the unhealed scars, but you did your best to endure it.
"Ellie and Tommy wouldn't take no for an answer," Joel replied, his tone a mix of annoyance and warmth.
You chuckled softly, though the motion sent a sharp pain through your ribs. "They can be pretty persuasive."
Joel's eyes softened slightly, but his concern remained. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying. It's near my graduation, and I have to prepare for the finals."
Joel's eyes lingered on you, taking in the pallor of your skin and the dark circles under your eyes. "You look sick. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. Joel was a man of few words, often letting his actions speak for him. His gruff exterior hid a deeply protective nature, one that he rarely showed to anyone. "I'm okay, really. Just a bit run down," you replied, trying to sound convincing.
Joel frowned, clearly not convinced, but he decided to lighten the mood. "So, how's school going? When are the big finals?"
You forced a smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, finals are coming up. Lots of studying and late nights."
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "I remember those days. Ellie gives me a hard time about studying too. But she's a smart kid, just like you."
"Thanks, Joel," you said softly, appreciating his attempt to comfort you. You cracked a small joke, trying to lighten the mood. "I just hope I don't end up like a zombie by the end of it."
Joel chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. He noticed how you occasionally winced and shifted your weight, clearly in pain. "You sure everything's okay at home?" he asked gently.
"Everything's great," you lied, remembering your father's stern warning. "Just the usual stress of school and stuff."
Joel's concern deepened, but he didn't push further. But before Joel could probe further, your father suddenly joined the conversation, his presence commanding attention.
"Joel, good to see you," he said with a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"
Joel straightened, his demeanor shifting. "Just catching up, Reverend."
Your father chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Joel, we’re at dinner. Call me Tony. We’re friends, remember?"
"Sure, Tony," Joel said, though the familiarity felt forced.
"How's the construction business going, Joel?" your father asked, his tone amiable.
"Busy as always," Joel replied, his eyes drifting back to you occasionally. "But it's good. Keeps me occupied."
Your father nodded, pretending to be interested. "That's great to hear. We should get together sometime, reminisce about the old days."
Joel's gaze met yours briefly, and you felt a flutter of something in your chest. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, his voice lacking enthusiasm but polite nonetheless.
As they continued to talk, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, feeling a strange sense of longing. His concern was genuine, unlike the superficial care your father displayed. It made you yearn for something more, something real.
Joel's eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt like he could see everything you were hiding. His concern was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a small comfort in the midst of your storm. You smiled at him, a silent thank you for his kindness, and he returned the gesture with a slight nod.
"You remember the time we went fishing at the lake, Joel?" your father said, trying to sound nostalgic. "We caught that huge bass, and you almost fell in trying to reel it in."
Joel smiled, though it was a shadow of his usual warmth. "Yeah, I remember. Good times."
You watched the exchange, feeling a pang of longing. Joel's presence was a reminder of what you were missing – genuine care and concern, something your father could never provide.
As dinner progressed, everyone was making conversations and catching up. You remained silent, but to avoid suspicion, you occasionally joined in, talking to Ellie and responding when someone addressed you. Joel observed quietly, speaking only when necessary or when someone engaged him directly. His occasional glances toward you felt like anchors, ensuring you didn’t drift too far into the depths of your own discomfort.
When it was time to sit down for the meal, you ended up seated across from Joel. Your father, ever the sociable one, continued to dominate the conversation, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. You picked at your food, the pain in your body making it hard to eat.
Joel noticed your discomfort, his eyes filled with quiet concern. He whispered after you shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time, "You sure you're okay?" this time in a whisper so your father wouldn’t hear.
You forced another smile. "I'm fine, Joel. Just tired."
He didn't look convinced, but he let it go, respecting your space. His presence, though, was a constant reminder that someone cared, even if you couldn't fully accept it.
The conversation flowed around you, snippets of dialogue filling the air.
"So, Ellie," your mother said, smiling warmly, "how's school treating you?"
"It's good, Mrs. Gibson. A lot of work, but I'm managing," Ellie replied, glancing at you with a reassuring smile.
Your father, ever the charming host, turned to Tommy. "And how's the construction business? Keeping you busy, I hope?"
Tommy laughed. "Busy doesn't even begin to cover it. We're swamped, but that's a good problem to have."
Joel's eyes flicked back to you as you winced slightly, shifting in your seat. He could see the struggle in your movements, the way you tried to hide your pain. His gaze softened, but he remained silent, respecting your space.
Tommy, clearly enjoying the topic, continued with enthusiasm. "We’re working on this big project downtown. It’s a major redevelopment of an old warehouse into luxury apartments. It's been a challenge, but it’s rewarding. We’re talking high-end finishes, state-of-the-art amenities. It’s a bit of a tightrope walk between maintaining the budget and meeting the client’s vision."
Your father, clearly interested, responded with a knowing nod. "Sounds like a big undertaking. How’s the team handling the pressure?"
Tommy grinned. "We’ve got a solid crew, but it’s been intense. Lots of late nights and early mornings. Joel’s seen the stress firsthand. He’s been around to lend a hand whenever things get tight."
Tommy’s gaze turned to Joel, as if inviting him to elaborate. "Right, Joel? You’ve had your fair share of those late nights, haven’t you?"
Joel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, late nights and long days. It’s all part of the job. We keep pushing through because, in the end, it’s worth it."
Your father leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "You’ve been in the business a long time, Joel. What’s been the biggest challenge for you lately?"
Joel paused for a moment, thinking. "The biggest challenge is always adapting to new demands. Clients want more, and sometimes it feels like we’re racing against the clock. But we get it done."
Tommy, sensing an opportunity to keep the conversation lively, added, "Joel’s been great about handling the unexpected. I remember one time we had a major issue with a contractor, and Joel stepped in and saved the day."
Joel’s expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes for Tommy’s support. "Just doing what needs to be done," he said.
Your mother’s voice was bright and enthusiastic as she shifted the topic. "Tommy, Maria, how’s little Luke doing? I can't believe how quickly he's growing."
Maria’s face lit up with pride. "He’s amazing. It’s been an adjustment, but we’re loving every moment of it. He’s starting to smile more, and it's just the sweetest thing."
Your mother nodded approvingly, her smile wide. "Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s such a joy to watch them grow. We’ve always said that parenting is the most rewarding experience."
The words felt like a raw wound being picked at, each one a reminder of the dissonance between their image of perfect parenting and your own reality. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the sharp pangs of pain that only seemed to intensify with every sugary comment.
Your father, ever the performer, joined in with his own brand of parental wisdom. "Yes, it’s true. Parenting brings out the best in you. It's about guiding them, teaching them right from wrong, and showing them how to navigate the world."
Tommy, clearly enjoying the turn of conversation, added, "Absolutely. We’ve had our challenges, but it’s worth it to see Luke grow and thrive. Every milestone is a victory."
Your mother leaned in with an air of authority. "And don’t forget the importance of structure and discipline. It’s all about finding that balance and being consistent. We always said that’s key to raising well-rounded children."
As the conversation continued, your parents spoke in glowing terms about their parenting philosophy, each statement reinforcing the image of perfection they projected. The more they spoke, the more you felt the weight of their insincerity.
The pain you were trying to suppress seemed to magnify with every word. You gripped your fork tighter, the effort making your knuckles white. You wanted to scream at the facade, the false sense of superiority they exuded while completely ignoring the reality of your struggles.
Joel’s eyes flicked back to you repeatedly, his concern growing more evident with each shift in your posture. He watched as you tried to mask your discomfort, his gaze softening as he saw the strain on your face.
Maria, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your demeanor as well. "Everything alright, sweetheart?" she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.
You forced another smile, though it felt like a mask slipping off. "Just a bit tired, Maria. Nothing to worry about."
Maria didn’t press further but her gaze remained concerned. She glanced at Joel, who gave a subtle nod, acknowledging her unspoken question. Joel’s eyes continued to linger on you, the concern etched deeply into his expression.
As the conversation shifted to a more religious tone, your father, ever the preacher, began to elaborate on his views. His voice took on that familiar, reverent cadence. "Children are a gift from God," he said, his eyes sweeping over the table as if to bless it with his words. "They are entrusted to us to guide, nurture, and instill the values that will shape their futures. It's a sacred duty, one that brings us closer to our faith and to each other."
He continued, the fervor in his voice rising, "The Bible teaches us that we are stewards of these precious souls. Our responsibility is not just to provide for their physical needs, but to mold their character, teach them right from wrong, and guide them in the ways of the Lord."
The words, so full of sanctimonious zeal, felt like a punch to your gut. Each statement was a cruel reminder of the gap between his idealized view of parenting and the harsh reality of your own life. You could feel your discomfort intensify, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm you.
Joel’s gaze shifted between your father’s preachy sermon and your growing distress. His brow furrowed, sensing the tension in the room. He saw you clutching your stomach, your face growing pale. Maria’s concern mirrored his as she glanced at you, her eyes filled with empathy.
Feeling trapped, you struggled to maintain composure, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white. The facade of your father's perfect parenting began to feel like a cruel joke, and the more he spoke, the harder it became to stay seated.
Finally, unable to endure any more, you excused yourself. "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," you said, standing up quickly. Your voice was strained, but you tried to keep it steady.
Your father’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made you shiver. "Sit down, dear. It’s not polite to excuse yourself while others are speaking. We’re all here to enjoy each other’s company." The reprimand felt like a vise tightening around you.
You glanced around the table, feeling the pressure of everyone’s gaze. "I really need to go," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to hold your ground.
Your father’s smile turned colder, and the sharpness in his tone cut through the tension. "If you must go," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if warning you not to embarrass him further. "But do you know where the bathroom is? Don't want to bother Tommy and Maria, they are still eating,"
Before you or Tommy an Maria could respond, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady. "I can show her where it is. I’m finished eating, so I can walk her there."
Your father’s eyes flicked to Joel, his expression softening slightly in a forced show of graciousness. "Thank you, Joel."
You nodded gratefully, feeling a small measure of relief as you met Joel’s concerned gaze. He stood up, his movements deliberate and calm. Maria was occupied with Evelyn, and Ellie was still eating, leaving Joel as the most suitable candidate to help you.
Joel approached you quietly, his demeanor gentle as he offered a reassuring smile. "Come on, I'll show you the way."
You nodded, standing up with a sense of cautious relief. As you walked toward the hallway with Joel, you could feel the weight of the conversation still hanging over you. Joel’s presence was a quiet comfort, his concern a stark contrast to the harshness of your father’s demeanor.
As you made your way down the hall, Joel glanced at you, his eyes filled with genuine worry. "You feeling okay, kid?"
You managed a small, appreciative smile. "I'm good, thanks, Joel."
He gave a reassuring nod as you approached the bathroom door. "I’ll be right here if you need anything. Just take your time."
As you stepped inside the bathroom, the coolness of the tile against your skin was a brief respite from the tension. You leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The solitude offered a momentary escape from the scrutiny and discomfort you’d felt at the table.
With trembling hands, you slowly opened your dress to check the scars, the ones that had been worsening over the past few days. The sight of them made your heart sink further. They were inflamed, bruised, and itching painfully. You traced the edges with your fingertips, and the pain was sharp and immediate. A stifled hiss escaped your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. The physical agony was overwhelming, but it was compounded by the emotional turmoil of the evening.
You tried to steady your breathing, but the pain made it difficult. Your fingers brushed the scars again, and a small, anguished cry escaped you. The pain was almost unbearable, and you felt the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably.
From outside the door, Joel’s voice cut through the quiet. "Kid, is everything alright in there?"
His voice, tinged with concern, snapped you back to reality. You quickly wiped your tears, trying to compose yourself. "I’m fine, Joel. Just... give me a minute."
There was a moment of silence before Joel spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "If something’s wrong, you can tell me. I’m here to help."
You hesitated, the pain and fear making it hard to respond. "I... it’s just—it's nothing serious. I’ll be out in a second."
After a few deep breaths and a final check, you composed yourself as best as you could. You pulled your dress back into place, the physical discomfort still sharp but slightly more manageable. You wiped away the remaining tears, trying to regain your composure.
Opening the bathroom door, you found Joel still standing there, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and patience. You offered him a shaky smile, hoping to convey that you were alright. "Thanks for waiting."
Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his concern deepening as he took in the faint tremble in your hands and the redness in your eyes. "You okay, kid?"
You nodded and smiled, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"
Joel didn't respond immediately, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You look...like you're in pain."
Your smile faltered, and you looked down, unable to maintain the facade under his steady gaze. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to deflect. “Just...school stress."
Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he decided not to push further. "Alright, if you say so. Let’s get back to dinner.”
You both returned to the dining room, where the atmosphere had lightened considerably. The meal continued with lively conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warm glow of shared company.
After dinner, your mom joined Maria in the kitchen to help with the dishes, their laughter and chatter floating through the house. Outside, your father, Tommy, and Joel settled on the backyard porch, their conversation punctuated by the occasional sound of a beer bottle opening or the murmur of crickets.
You found yourself in the living room with Ellie, who was scrolling through her phone while little Luke slept peacefully on the couch. You took a seat next to her, and she looked up, smiling.
"Hey," you said, leaning back into the cushions. "How's school been for you?"
Ellie shrugged, putting her phone down. "It's alright, I guess. Same old stuff. How about you? Finals must be tough, huh?"
"Yeah, they are," you admitted. "But it's almost over. Just a few more months, and then we're done."
Ellie grinned. "Bet you can't wait to get out of here."
You laughed softly. "Yeah, it's definitely time for a change. How about you? Any plans after high school?"
"Maybe college, if I can figure out what I want to do," Ellie replied. "So...Tell me, are there any boys at school you've got your eye on?" She tease giving you a smirk.
You blushed, shaking your head. "No, not really."
Ellie rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows you're like the most popular girl in school. The boys are all over you."
You sighed, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I can't say I'm like that and it's not quite like that. They're just...curious, I guess."
"Curious about what?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.
You hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know, it seems like they're curious about me."
Ellie then brought up what she saw a week ago. "So...don't want to be nosy, but I saw you with Jamie the other day. Is he the one?" She gave you a smirk, clearly enjoying teasing you.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "No, he's just a friend."
"Come on, you can tell me," Ellie insisted, nudging you playfully.
You blushed and tried to deflect, but Ellie wasn't letting up. "Stop, Ellie. It was nothing."
Ellie grinned, leaning in closer. "Okay, but don't tell anyone. Jamie's been trying to get close to me. It's been going on for two months now. We’ve gone out a few times. He’s kissed me, but it hasn’t gone beyond that."
Ellie raised an eyebrow, looking more serious. “And he’s asking for more, isn’t he?”
You nodded, feeling a knot of confusion and frustration in your chest. “Yeah. He keeps bringing up sex, but I’ve told him I’m not ready. He said he’d wait, but he keeps asking. I don’t know what to do.”
Ellie leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “Jamie’s the captain of the football team, right? Popular, blonde, not too smart?”
“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed, sighing. “He’s nice, but this pressure... I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
Ellie nodded understandingly. “You shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for. If Jamie really cares about you, he’ll respect your boundaries. And if he doesn’t, then he’s not worth it.”
You sighed again, the weight of your father's teachings pressing down on you. "But... I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed if I don’t do what he wants. Jamie is nice and polite. His family has giving our church a lot...he also giving me a lot of nice stuff, like dress, necklace and all. My dad always said if someone’s nice to you, you should be nice back. And always obey men because they’re higher in status than women."
Ellie’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Who told you that?"
You shrugged, feeling a bit defensive. "My father."
Ellie shook her head, her expression turning serious. "That’s...kinda messed up. Just because someone’s nice doesn’t mean you owe them anything, especially not your body. And men aren’t superior to women. We’re all equal."
You bit your lip, considering her words. "But that’s how my daddy raised me, Ellie. He always says women should obey men."
Ellie leaned forward, her eyes filled with conviction. "Well, according on how Joel raise me. He taught me to stand up for myself and that I’m just as important as any man. It’s about respect, not obedience. You don’t owe Jamie anything just because he’s nice. If he can’t respect your boundaries, he’s not worth your time."
You felt a flicker of hope at her words. "I... I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to go against everything I’ve been taught."
Ellie reached out and squeezed your hand. "I know it’s hard, but you deserve to be with someone who respects you and your choices. Don’t let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less than you are."
When Ellie said that, it felt like a hit to the chest. "Don't let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less..." Her words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that was both comforting and terrifying. You wished you could believe it, wished you had the strength to stand up to your father. But the reality of your life loomed large and unyielding. Defiance meant danger. Defiance meant pain.
As Ellie's words replayed in your head, you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. You imagined standing up to your father, telling him that you were more than his expectations, more than his strict rules and harsh punishments. The thought made your heart race with a blend of hope and fear.
You glanced at Ellie, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective light. She believed in you, saw your worth even when you couldn't. It was a beacon in the darkness of your doubt, a small but vital spark of hope.
Yet, the idea of challenging your father felt insurmountable. His shadow stretched long over your life, dictating your every move, every thought. You had been molded by his will, taught to obey without question, to live in the confines of his rigid beliefs.
You had to pretend to be the perfect daughter, maintaining the facade that your father was the saintly preacher everyone believed him to be. The weight of this pretense was suffocating, but it was the only way you knew to survive.
Outside, the conversation between Tommy and your father continued, their voices a low hum against the backdrop of the evening. Joel, on the other hand, was mostly silent, nursing his beer as he leaned against the porch railing. His eyes flicked occasionally to the living room, where you and Ellie were talking.
Joel's expression was hard to read, but there was a tension in his jaw, a tightness in his grip on the beer bottle that hinted at his unease. He listened more to your conversation than to Tommy and your father's, though he tried to appear disinterested. Something about you drew him in, made him care more than he wanted to admit. He told himself it was none of his business, that he had no right to interfere in someone else’s family matters. But still, there was a nagging feeling in his gut, an instinct honed by years of protecting those he loved.
As Joel watched you, he saw the way your shoulders slumped slightly when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes darted nervously to the doorway whenever a noise came from the kitchen. You were like a skittish animal, always on alert, always ready to flee or freeze. It reminded him too much of the broken children he'd seen in the aftermath of tragedy, children who had learned too young that the world was a dangerous place.
He took another sip of his beer, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't need more complications in his life. He had enough to deal with, enough to protect. But damn it, there was something about you, something that called out to the part of him that had once been a father, that still is a father to Ellie. It was a part of him that couldn't ignore the signs of distress, the silent cries for help.
In the living room, Ellie continued to speak softly, her words a balm to your troubled heart. "You know," she said, squeezing your hand, "no matter what, you've got me. If you ever need to get away, to take a break, my door's always open."
You looked at her, the warmth in her eyes contrasting sharply with the cold dread that usually filled your days. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice barely holding back the tears. "It means more than you know."
Joel caught that moment, saw the brief glimpse of vulnerability and the strength it took for you to accept Ellie’s offer of support. It stirred something deep within him, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time.
He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the conversation outside. Tommy was laughing at something your father said, their voices blending into the background noise of the night. But even as he tried to tune them out, his mind kept drifting back to you. He didn't know what he could do, or if he should do anything at all.
As the evening wore on, Joel glanced back at you one last time, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to help, without overstepping the boundaries he was so careful to maintain.
***
The last few weeks had been a blur of routine and unspoken tension. Each day felt like a balancing act, with you trying to maintain the perfect image your father demanded while wrestling with your own growing doubts and fears. The only moments of relief came when you could steal a few minutes alone with Ellie, her unwavering support a lifeline in the storm.
One evening after school, you found yourself in your usual spot on the porch, the soft hum of cicadas filling the air. You hugged your knees to your chest, staring out at the darkening sky, your thoughts a tangled mess. You were wearing a nice white mini dress, modest yet elegant, with your hair braided into two sides and adorned with white ribbons.
You had managed to keep up appearances at church, attending every service, helping with every event, but the pressure was becoming unbearable. The weight of your father's expectations pressed down on you like a vise, and each day it grew tighter.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar truck parked in your driveway. You watched as a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and black hair stepped out. He had a ruggedly handsome look about him, and as he saw you, a charming smile spread across his face. He stood there for a moment, then walked towards you with an air of confidence.
“Evenin’,” he said, his voice a smooth drawl. “Is this Father Gibson’s house?”
You nodded, standing up and smoothing your dress. “Yes, it is. Can I help you with something?”
He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Well, aren’t you a polite one? I’m lookin’ for the Reverend. Is he around?”
You nodded again, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “He’s inside. I can get him for you.”
As you turned to go inside, he called after you, his voice teasing. “You know, you’ve got a real pretty smile. Brightens up the whole place.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and forced a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be right back.”
Inside, you found your father in his study, poring over his notes for Sunday’s sermon. “Dad, there’s someone here to see you.”
Your father looked up, frowning slightly. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know his name, but he’s outside waiting,” you replied.
Your father nodded, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. You followed him, your curiosity piqued.
The man was waiting patiently on the porch, his hands in his pockets. As your father approached, he extended a hand with a broad smile. “Reverend Gibson, pleasure to meet you. I'm Naomi's cousin, I assume she already told you?"
Your father shook his hand, a wary look in his eyes. “Ah, yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."
The man leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I was hopin’ we could have a little chat. Got some things I’d like to discuss."
Your father glanced at you, then back at him. “Of course. Let’s step inside.”
As they moved inside, the man glanced back at you, giving you a wink. You watched them disappear into the house, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling inside you.
Not long after, you heard the rumble of Jamie's truck pulling up. Your heart lightened, and you smiled, walking towards the driveway with an eagerness that belied the tension you had been feeling all day. You hung by the fences, your fingers curling around the cool metal as Jamie got out of his truck.
"Hi, Jamie," you said, your voice bright with excitement.
Jamie grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. "Hey sweetpie, how are ya doing? looking beautiful as ever,"
Jamie’s compliment made your cheeks flush, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m doing alright. How about you?”
Jamie’s grin widened. “Can’t complain. I was thinking maybe we could catch that new movie tonight. What do you say?”
The thought of escaping the confines of home and spending a carefree evening with Jamie was a welcome distraction. “That sounds great. But I need to ask my dad first.”
Jamie nodded, settling back into the truck as you approached the front door. The door swung open, and you saw your father still deep in conversation with the man you didn’t know, whose gaze was fixed intently on you.
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unnerving feeling that his eyes were tracing every inch of you.
You spoke to your father, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Father, Jamie asked if I could go to the cinema with him tonight. Is it okay?”
Your father glanced at you briefly, then at the man, whose expression was inscrutable but decidedly interested. “Jamie Lee?” your father asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” you replied.
Your father’s eyes flickered with annoyance at being interrupted but softened as he looked at you. “It’s not ideal to leave while we have a guest here, but alright, you can go. Be back by eight.”
You thanked him and turned to leave, but as you did, you couldn’t help but notice how the man’s gaze lingered on you. His eyes, though polite, seemed to hold a predatory glint, scanning you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly.
You gave a nervous smile as you rejoined Jamie at the truck, who was looking at you with a hopeful expression. “Dad said it’s fine. Let’s go.”
Jamie’s face lit up, and he slid into the driver’s seat with an easy grin. As he started the engine, he turned on some country music, the tunes filling the truck and momentarily lifting your spirits. The drive was smooth, and you found yourself relaxing, your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.
After the movie, Jamie suggested a detour. “How about we grab a drink? There’s a little bar outside of town where we can chill for a bit. What do you say?”
You hesitated, not entirely sure about the idea but wanting to enjoy the evening. “I don’t know… I’m not really into drinking.”
Jamie reassured you with a charming smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Just one drink, I promise.”
When you arrived at the bar, a dimly lit place with a cozy, rustic feel, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Jamie led you inside, and you slid onto a barstool. Jamie ordered whiskey for himself and told you he’d get you something sweet.
The bartender handed you a glass, and you took a tentative sip, expecting a cherry cola. Instead, the liquid was warm and had a strong, unfamiliar bite. You grimaced, looking at Jamie with confusion. “This doesn’t taste like cherry cola. Are you sure this is what I ordered?”
Jamie leaned in, his voice low and soothing. “Nah, it’s whiskey, babe. I thought you might want to try something a bit more adventurous.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I can’t drink whiskey. I’ve never had it before, and my dad would be really angry if he found out.”
Jamie gave you a reassuring smile, placing a hand on your back. “Relax. It’s just a drink. No one’s gonna know. Besides, it’s just one drink. You’ll be fine.”
You hesitated, glancing around the bar. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in your stomach. Jamie’s insistence and easy demeanor made it hard to say no. You took another small sip, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal.
Jamie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched you. “Just have a little more. You might actually like it. It’s good for loosening up, you know?”
Reluctantly, you took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through you. The whiskey tasted harsh and made you cough slightly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
Jamie laughed, a bit too loudly, but with a genuine affection in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax and have fun. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”
Despite the alcohol, you felt an uneasy flutter in your stomach, the drink making you feel lightheaded. Jamie encouraged you to drink more, and you found yourself gradually giving in, the whiskey dulling the edges of your anxiety.
As the evening wore on, you felt the effects of the alcohol more clearly. Your thoughts became hazy, and the room seemed to spin slightly. Jamie’s presence became more comforting, and his laughter more infectious. He kept encouraging you to drink, telling you it was all in good fun.
The bar buzzed with life around you, but the world felt distant, the sounds muffled by the warmth and haze of whiskey. Jamie’s arm around your shoulders was a constant presence, a mix of comfort and tension that made your skin tingle.
As he helped you into the truck, his touch was firm, and you leaned against him, inhaling the potent blend of whiskey and his cologne. The city lights outside blurred, a streak of neon against the dark sky, but Jamie abruptly pulled over to a quiet, secluded road.
“Jamie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Jamie’s gaze was intense, a smoldering look that seemed to pierce through the fog of your mind. “I just wanted to be alone with you,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly slurred. His fingers traced your jawline, his touch both tender and possessive.
The air in the truck was thick with anticipation, charged with an electric tension that you couldn’t ignore. Jamie leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I’ve been wanting you for so long.”
A shiver cascaded down your spine at his words, a confusing mix of desire and trepidation swirling within you. The whiskey had softened your inhibitions, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.
His words were like a seductive caress, stirring a deep, unsettling need. “Jamie, I can't,” you began to say, but his lips silenced you, capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.
His lips were rough, demanding, and they moved with an intensity that set your senses alight. His hands roamed over your body, finding the buttons of your blouse with a hunger that made your heart race. he's messaging your boobs you slowly moan because it feels so good.
The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate urgency. His hands were warm but rough, the contrast of his touch creating a mix of discomfort and electric thrill.
You felt a rising heat as he tugged at your blouse, the fabric yielding under his insistent fingers. “Just this once,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot and ragged. “It’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted, I promise.”
A part of you wanted to resist, but the intoxicating mix of his touch and your own growing desire blurred your judgment. You felt a strange, almost reckless surrender, your boundaries melting away in the intensity of the moment.
"Stop, I-I can't," you said
"I promise, it will feel good, baby," he said
Jamie’s fingers moved with a deliberate skill, teasing and exploring your most sensitive spots. You gasped as his touch sent jolts of pleasure through your body, making your head swim with a mix of desire and confusion. The whiskey's lingering warmth mingled with the heat rising within you, clouding your ability to think clearly.
His other hand slid down your back, pulling you closer until you were almost on his lap. The friction between your bodies only intensified the sensations coursing through you. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a hard, undeniable reminder of his desire.
“Jamie,” you breathed, your voice a mix of protest and longing. “I shouldn’t—”
But your words were cut off as his fingers found their mark, pressing and circling with just the right pressure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. A moan escaped your lips, unbidden and undeniable.
“Just let go,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “I’ve got you.”
His mouth found yours again, the kiss deepening as he continued to work you with his fingers. Your body responded eagerly, every nerve ending on fire. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you surrendered to the sensations overwhelming you.
With a deftness born of experience, he slipped your blouse off your shoulders, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Your skin tingled where he touched, each kiss sending a wave of heat through you.
His hands moved to your breasts, kneading and teasing, his mouth following close behind. The contrast of his rough fingers and the softness of his lips was intoxicating, making you arch into his touch. You could feel the last vestiges of your resistance crumbling, your body aching.
“Jamie,” you whispered, your voice a mix of wanting for more but you are scared, “Please, stop…”
His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in shedding his own clothes. The sight of him, bare and ready, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He reached for you, pulling you close until you were both lying back on the seat, your bodies entwined.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Jamie, please,” you begged, a note of panic creeping into your voice as his grip tightened and his movements became rougher. The initial pleasure was swiftly giving way to pain, each thrust sending shockwaves of discomfort through your body.
“Stop, Jamie, it hurts,” you pleaded, trying to push him away. But he was too strong, his body a heavy weight pinning you down. His eyes, glazed over with alcohol and desire, didn’t seem to register your distress. Instead, his anger flared, his thrusts becoming more forceful and unrelenting.
Tears streamed down your face as you cried out in pain, your voice breaking with each sob. “Please, stop! Jamie, please stop!” you screamed, your hands frantically pushing against his chest, but it was no use. He was lost to his own needs, driven by the alcohol coursing through his veins.
You felt a deep, pervasive sense of violation, your body and spirit shattering with each brutal movement. Desperation clawed at your insides as you prayed for an end to the torment. “God, please make him stop,” you whispered through your tears, your voice a broken, helpless plea.
But Jamie didn’t stop. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. The pain was overwhelming, each thrust tearing through you, leaving you feeling dirty and used. Your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of his ragged breathing and the cruel rhythm of his assault.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, every second an eternity of agony and despair. You felt yourself slipping into a numb, distant place, a coping mechanism to survive the relentless onslaught. Your body became a vessel of pain, your mind retreating to a place where the hurt couldn’t reach you.
Finally, with a shuddering groan, Jamie reached his climax, his body stilling as he released himself inside you. The moment he pulled out and rolled away, you curled into a ball, your body shaking with sobs. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional devastation, the sense of betrayal and violation that coursed through you.
Jamie lay beside you, panting and spent, seemingly oblivious to the trauma he had inflicted. His eyes slowly cleared as the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, but the damage was already done. You felt hollow, your trust shattered, your sense of self irreparably damaged.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled, his voice thick with regret as he reached out to touch you. You flinched violently, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.
"Get away from me!" you screamed, your voice raw with pain and anger. You felt so dirty, so violated, your mind reeling from the horror of what had just happened. You wanted to disappear, to vanish from the world and escape the unbearable weight of your trauma.
Jamie pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn't mean to... I was drunk... I—" His words were a pathetic jumble of excuses, falling on deaf ears.
"Just shut up," you spat, your voice trembling with rage. "Just shut up and take me back to town. I can't be here with you. I can't even look at you."
He nodded mutely, too ashamed to argue. As he started the truck, you pulled your clothes back on with shaking hands, each movement a reminder of the violation you'd endured. The drive back was silent, the air thick with a tension that neither of you dared to break.
When the truck finally came to a stop near the outskirts of town, you didn't wait for it to fully halt before you opened the door and stumbled out. "I can walk from here," you said coldly, not looking back. "I don't want to see you ever again."
Jamie opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He simply nodded, the look of regret and sorrow etched on his face as you slammed the door shut and started walking away.
As you walked, each step felt like an eternity, your mind a whirlwind of pain and confusion. You couldn’t go home, not like this. The thought of facing your family in your current state was unbearable. Instead, you turned your steps towards Ellie’s house. She was the only one who would understand, the only one you could trust to hold you through this nightmare.
You stumbled up the porch steps, your vision blurred by tears, your makeup smeared and your hair a tangled mess. Your dress was wrinkled and torn, a stark reminder of what had happened. You knocked on the door, hugging yourself tightly in a futile attempt to keep warm, to feel safe.
When the door opened, it wasn’t Ellie who stood there. It was Joel. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with tears, your breath hitching in your chest.
Joel's eyes widened in shock and concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. "What happened?" he asked urgently, his voice trembling with worry. "What’s going on? Are you hurt?" Ellie wasn’t home; she was staying at a friend's house for the night.
The sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears, and you couldn't hold back the sobs any longer. You collapsed to the ground, your body shaking with the force of your cries. The world around you blurred into an indistinguishable mess of pain and despair.
Joel was beside you in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you. "You're safe now. I've got you."
As he held you, his heart raced, a sense of urgency fueling his every movement. He noticed the blood seeping through your legs, and panic gripped him. There was a raw, protective anger in his eyes, one that he usually kept buried deep beneath his calm exterior.
You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "Joel," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "He hurt me. He wouldn’t stop. I begged him, but he wouldn’t stop."
Joel’s body went rigid, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Who hurt you?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow.
"Jamie," you sobbed, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. "I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen."
The silence that followed your confession was thick with tension. Joel’s face darkened, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness that made you feel a flicker of safety amidst your despair. He took a deep breath, clearly fighting to keep his anger in check.
"Come on, let's get you inside," he said softly, helping you to your feet. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.
He led you into the living room, where the soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light on the room, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you felt inside. Joel carefully sat you down on the couch. He needed to clean you up. The sight of your blood-soaked dress made his heart ache with a mix of sorrow and rage.
Joel disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket and a cup of tea. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring, then handed you the tea.
"Here, drink this," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’ll help."
You took the cup with trembling hands, the warmth seeping into your skin, offering a small measure of comfort. Joel sat beside you, his presence a solid anchor in the storm of your emotions.
"You don’t have to talk about it right now," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with sorrow. "But I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready."
You looked at him, the tears still streaming down your face. "I feel so dirty," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't want this. I didn’t want any of it."
Joel's face softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fierce protectiveness. "You're not dirty," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Baby, it's not your fault."
The sincerity in his voice broke something loose inside you, and you sobbed harder, your body shaking with the force of your grief. Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. “We’ll get through this,” he promised, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. For the first time in a while, Joel opened his heart, letting his walls down to show you his unwavering support.
He held you for what felt like hours, his embrace a cocoon of safety and warmth. The tears seemed endless, each one carrying a fragment of your shattered soul. But Joel remained steadfast, his presence a constant reassurance that you were not alone in your suffering.
As he held you, Joel's thoughts churned with a mix of emotions. He was a man of few words, accustomed to keeping his feelings locked away, buried deep beneath a hardened exterior. But seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, stirred something dark and primal within him.
It reminded him of his own past, the pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. The memories of Sarah, his daughter, flashed through his mind – the way he had failed to protect her, the helplessness and rage that had consumed him. He had vowed never to let himself feel that kind of pain again, to never let anyone get close enough to hurt him.
Yet here he was, holding you, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you, to shield you from the world’s cruelty. The thought of Jamie, the man who had done this to you, ignited a fierce, burning anger within him. Joel's grip tightened around you, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.
He would make Jamie pay for what he had done. There was a darkness inside Joel, a ruthless side that he rarely let see the light of day. But for you, he would unleash it. He would ensure that Jamie never hurt you – or anyone else – again. The thought of revenge, of justice, gave him a grim sense of purpose, a way to channel the turmoil inside him.
Joel's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He was deeply troubled by the sight of you in such pain, and his protective instincts surged to the forefront. He knew he had to keep himself under control, to focus on helping you heal. But the thought of Jamie’s actions ignited a cold, calculated fury within him.
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