#just realized none of what i said just now is in my own words. i think it's time to turn off the computer
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room - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 417
"So you're an actual thing now?" Barty asked Regulus as the train sped towards London.
Regulus shrugged. "Yeah. He asked me last night."
It had been a moment that had built after weeks of messing around, months of tension. As their lips connected and their hands traced over each other's bodies, James had broken their kiss to stare deep in his eyes and murmur, "Be mine. For real. No...no others, no games. Just us. Please?"
And at first, Regulus had worried that maybe it was just the stress. They would be separated for two weeks: Regulus going back to Grimmauld Place and James to his own family for the holidays. Maybe James was just sad that he wouldn't have anyone to snog for a while? But one look into James's hazel eyes washed all his reservations away.
The resulting kiss had been nothing less than earth-shattering.
But now, his friends were exchanging troubled glances.
"What?" he demanded, frowning in frustration.
"Just...are you sure he won't hurt you? I mean...up until recently we all thought he was straight," Dorcas said gently, placing a hand on his knee. "He's nice when you sneak around, but do you think he'll ever want to...go public?"
A mixture of annoyance and dread flooded through Regulus as he began to second-guess himself. But before he could properly panic, there was a knock on the door of the train compartment.
Frowning, Regulus stood to answer it, if only to give himself time to think. Opening the covered doors, he found himself face-to-face with none other than James himself. He resisted the urge to curse.
"Hi," the taller boy smiled softly. "Erm...I wanted to...to see...to meet...I just..." he sighed, obviously struggling with his words. Taking a deep breath, he stood up a bit straighter. "Room for one more?" he asked, gesturing to the compartment Regulus was standing in.
A fierce wave of warmth washed through him as Regulus realized: James was here to do exactly what his friends had been questioning. He was here to be with him, together, in front of other people.
Grinning happily, Regulus nodded, pulling James inside. "Guys, meet my boyfriend," he said smugly as he did, the sound of the word on his lips giving him a thrill, completely enjoying the way his friends lit up when he said it.
By the time they got to London, James had completely won over his friends, and Regulus was filled with enough bubbling happiness to sustain him for the next few weeks.
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders#marauders harry potter#marauders fanfic#the marauders era#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#james potter#james x regulus#regulus x james#regulus and james#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#regulus deserved better#regulus black x james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#starchaser#sunseeker
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treasure box | percy jackson
ጠpercy jackson x reader ጠwarnings: none! ጠwc: 757
âHurry, get into my room before my mom sees you and starts talking your ear off!â She giggled as Percy held her hand, gently pulling her after him.
They stepped into his room, and she couldnât help but smile as her gaze landed on the familiar blue walls, the car posters, and the soft gray comforter she hadnât seen in what felt like ages.
If she loved anything more than her own house, it was being at his place.Â
They sank to the floor, their backs leaning against the bed. Percy instinctively moved as close to her as he could; those two weeks sheâd been away on vacation had been agonizing for him.
âPlease, tell me everything. What are the beaches like?â
They started chatting, with her describing her trip and him listening carefully, asking a question now and then to make sure she kept talking. He had to admit, he had missed hearing her speak more than he cared to say.
At some point, when Percy was in the kitchen getting them some drinks, she remembered the little something sheâd brought for her boyfriend. She hurried to her backpack and dug out the blue seashell sheâd picked up.
It was lovely, with different tones of his favorite color and tiny white specks that sparkled. Definitely pretty. She stared at it for a while, suddenly realizing how silly the gift seemed.
Come on, he could probably dive to the depths of the sea and collect a whole bunch of them.Â
âOh, whatâs that?â Suddenly, the boy entered the room, setting the glasses down on the bedside table and moving behind her. He rested his jaw softly against her shoulder and peeked at what she was holding.
âOh, itâs nothing.â She tried to tuck it away again, but he covered her hands with his, stopping her. She sighed, a little flustered. âItâs a gift. Itâs kind of dumb, really⌠I donât know, I saw it and thought of you-â
âItâs the prettiest seashell Iâve ever seen, love.â He interrupted her, and though she didnât turn, she felt Percyâs smile against her neck, followed by the lightest kiss pressed there. âI love it!â
He held the gift, studying it carefully under the loving gaze of his girlfriend, who had turned to look at him.
Without a word, he made his way to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a white wood box. She moved closer, her gaze following every movement as he used a small key from the drawer to unlock it.Â
âWhat do you have there?â She asked, her voice filled with intrigue. Percy turned to face her, lowered himself onto the bed, and gently patted the space next to him, encouraging her to sit by his side.
âLook,â he said once she was beside him. âthis is like my little collection of you. Gifts, things you leave behind, things that remind me of you⌠See this? Itâs the bracelet you made for me a few months ago! And this earring? You left it here when you lost the other one âI held onto it, just in case you ever found its match.âÂ
He carefully showed her each item inside: photographs from the early days of their relationship, ticket stubs from every date, and even the smallest gifts she had given him. He had kept everything, every little detail they had shared since they met.
But what stunned her most wasnât the collection itself, but the way he remembered each detail; each memory, each moment, and even the feelings those tokens had stirred in him.
She stood on the brink of tears when he finally finished showing her everything.
âThis is so beautiful, I never expected anyone to do something like this for me.â She said, watching him as he slid the seashell back into the box and set it back in its place.
âWhy wouldn't I do that?â He crouched in front of her, holding both of her hands in his and caressing them tenderly.
He truly couldnât understand it; this girl deserved the world, and anything she offered should be protected and cared for like a little piece of herself she was giving him.
âI love you, and I love everything that comes with you.â He finished, giving her hands a kiss. "Every thing, moment, and detail I share with you is a treasure -I need to keep it somewhere, don't I?"
She smiled, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him tightly. Her eyes closed as she held into the moment, murmuring a small 'i love you' in his skin. As response, he held her closer, leaving kisses in her temple.
She had always thought these kinds of things only happened in fairy tales, that guys like that didnât really exist.
So glad Percy wasnât just any guy.
everyone has, like, a memory box, right? RIGHT? ok but do i want to be in love or just prove that i can be loved?
#percy jackson x you#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#percy jackson#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson imagines
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Whumptober Day 30 - Recovery
CONTINUATION TO DAYS 13 AND 28 read those or youâll probably be confused đ
Hola I have not given up yet đ Iâve only got one fic left now and itâs already half-written, and Iâm going to do everything in my power to finish it before thanksgiving SO HELP ME. Please enjoy the finale of the animal transformation plot line :)
and forgive me for slipping in one of my Link OCs these are technically his bad guys I borrowed for the fic lol
Warnings: same as 13 and 28, body horror, injury, creepy people.
Ao3 link
Day 13
Day 28
ââââââââââââââââââââ
Twilight bolted through the caverns, the othersâ voices long gone behind him. The pain in his side only got worse the further he went, but he didnât stop, tongue lolling, paws pounding.
He had to reach Four. Before it was too late.
The smithyâs cries grew louder as he ran, and Twilight abruptly realized they werenât Hylian soundsâ he couldnât quite make out what they were over the sound of the water beside him, though. The current of the stream had gotten much faster, water rushing past rocks and frothing at the edges. But Twilight didnât focus on it much, intent only on reaching Four.
Some measure of sense came back to Twilight as he made out more voices over the water, and he slowed his frantic pace, making an effort to quiet his steps. A different kind of light reflected off the water as he followed a bend in the stream, and Twilight crouched down, creeping hurriedly towards a clump of large rocks. He ducked behind them as he heard voices, then cautiously poked his head around.
Standing on the other side of the now-roaring water was a stone pedestal, partially carved from some of the glowing green rocks around. It was surrounded by a handful of figures in dark green cloaks, carrying lanterns that made strange shadows dance across the walls.
One of them shifted around, and Twilightâs gaze locked on the tiny, struggling figure tied to the stone, frantically trying to free itself. Twilight squinted, moving just a little closer, and sucked in a breath.
A small, rainbow-colored bird was trapped on the stone, fluttering its wings and attempting to peck at the rope with its beak. It was maybe a bit bigger than Twilightâs hand, and Twilight scanned the colors its feathers held, recognizing them with a sinking stomach.
âLet me go! I have no clue what youâre talking about with all this courage stuff!â Fourâs voice squawked from the bird, fear creeping in on the edges of his words. âQuit plucking feathers! Will you at least tell me whatâs going on? Seriously! What do you want?!â
None of the cloaked figures replied, obviously unable to understand him, and one of them drew forward, raising a hand up.
âOh goddess Farore... greatest of the Three... grant us your courage as we initiate one of your chosen,â she said, and Twilight startled as he recognized the croaking voice from earlier. âHis power will serve us well...â
Her other hand went up, and Fourâs chirps grew to a frantic pitch as the long knife sheâd drawn gleamed in the lantern light.
Twilight forgot any semblance of stealth and raced forward, leaping across the stream in one huge jump and landing on the other side with a snarl. The cloaked figures whirled around, and Twilight bared his teeth, prepared to fight every single one of them.
The old woman holding the knife seemed unconcerned at his appearance though. In fact, she seemed downright pleased, a gnarled smile stretching across her ancient face.
âAh, another of Faroreâs beloved. She must have taken a special liking to you, clothing you in one of her sacred beasts.â
She swept her hand forward and ropes surged from nearby of their own volition, snagging Twilightâs legs and sending him to the ground before he could do anything. He snarled, fighting against them, but they only grew tighter, and Twilight fell to his side with a grunt.
âTwilight!â Four chirped frantically.
âOh heâs magnificent!â another voice squealed, and Twilight recognized it as the other voice theyâd been hearing. âMistress may I have him first? Please?â
âYou know the rules, sister,â the old woman reprimanded. âFarore has chosen me to partake first.â
The other figure that had spoken drooped, but bowed her head in a nod, and the old woman approached Twilight, her knife still held high.
Twilight snapped at her, struggling fiercely, and the old woman wagged a finger at him.
âNow now, relax. Weâre not going to kill you.â
âRight. Weâll only take some pieces of your courageous bodies, and leave you alive after,â the cheerful woman added. âAnd afterwards you get to stay with us forever!â
Twilight fought much harder against the ropes, but they refused to budge a bit, and Four let out a frantic cheep.
âTwilight, hold on!â he said hurriedly, his beak pulling at the ropes.
âDoing my best,â Twilight growled back. He kept fighting, but made no progress in escaping his bonds.
The old woman with the knife knelt beside him, unconcerned at his snapping teeth, and thumbed a bit of the drying blood off of his muzzle, studying it.
âYes, youâll be perfect. A proud, fierce beast. One of the blue-eyes of legend,â she said with a smile. âNever have we had so many true Chosen in our grasp... Faroreâs providence is good indeed.â
Twilight snarled, struggling wildly, and the woman raised her knife again.
âHold still.â
Twilightâs heart wrenched up into his throat, but then Four managed to bite through the ropes holding him, launching himself off of the platform with a cry.
His flight was miserable at best, but he still managed to land on the womanâs head, pecking and clawing at her furiously. She reeled back from Twilight with a shout, smacking at Four, and Twilight strained as hard as he could. The womanâs hand smacked down, hitting Four hard enough that he was stunned, and she snatched him into her gnarled hand with a glare.
âDo not interrupt,â she hissed, squeezing until Four cried out.
Twilight barked in anger, worry for Four strengthening him, and he snapped a few of the ropes around himself. He lunged for the womanâs legs and she shouted again, several of the other cloaked figures sweeping forward. One of them took Four from her grasp so she could wave her hand and fix the ropes over Twilight again, and he grunted as he was rebound and Four was carried away.
âSmithy!â Twilight barked, heart pounding at the sight of the limp bird on the stone. âLet him go!â
âStop that this instant,â the old woman snapped as Twilight thrashed around, growling and fighting against the ropes. They abruptly tightened, and Twilightâs snarling was choked off, pressure squeezing his already-sore ribs.
âI know the adjustment is hard, but this really will be the best for you,â the giggly woman cooed. âWeâll only take some of your courage now and then, and youâll live a wonderfully comfortable life with us! Farore will bless us all for our devotion!â
Twilight wheezed, unable to take in a deep breath, his ribs aching and squeezing. He could barely focus on the words being spoken, his head growing fuzzy from lack of air, and he couldnât stop the pained whine that escaped him.
He had to get to Four, but Four wasnât moving, and he couldnât breathe, and these people were too powerful for him to take by himselfâ
The old woman approached him again, her knife glinting in the lantern light. It was made of some kind of pearlescent material, small rainbows rippling across the tip, and Twilight stared at it as he wheezed for breath, unable to move away.
What he didnât expect was for the woman to press the flat of the blade to his forehead, the metal cold against his fur.
A familiar biting cold wrenched through him, and Twilight gasped, the cold shooting through his limbs like an icy flood, hungrily spreading and devouring him. The ropes stopped him from thrashing, but he jerked beneath them, a strangled howl escaping his throat.
Oh please not againâ!
His limbs began to contort, his stinging muzzle shrinking in, already abused ribs pushed and stretched. It was worse than the first time, his limbs still sore from the initial transformation and the fight earlier, and stars flew and shattered in Twilightâs vision as pain ripped through him.
His howl turned into a scream that rang through the cave, his body contorting and twisting around back into its rightful shape. Legs stretched and fur receded, teeth and ears and eyes that rolled back in his head.
It felt like hours before it finally eased, the coldâs intensity ebbing, and Twilight abruptly fell still, his breath rattling as tears slipped down his Hylian cheeks.
He might have passed out for a moment, he wasnât sure. But he was so wrung dry from it all that he barely registered he was back in his rightful body, a shiver wracking through him.
A frightened chirp reached his ears, and Twilight pried his eyes open, a blurry spot of color moving in his vision. A flicker of relief hit him as he saw Four moving around, but then a hand grabbed his chin, tilting his head up.
âHm, maybe not so courageous after all,â the old woman frowned, flicking some of his tears away. âBut Farore has chosen you, so we will submit to her will.â
She dropped his chin, then lifted up his hand, Twilight shuddering as she traced the triangles on his skin.
âCourage touched. Weâll take this first,â she said almost hungrily.
Twilightâs hand was stretched out, ropes tightening on his wrist and pinning his arm to the ground. The woman raised up her knife again, and Twilight pulled weakly against the ropes, his strength sapped. All he could do was watch.
Twilight looked up as Four let out a cry of dismay, and the knife plunged down towards his wrist.
Then was knocked from the womanâs grasp by a boomerang.
The woman shouted as the blade fell with a clatter, a furious expression on her face. Twilight panted weakly as someone shouted, and loud steps thundered by, blurs moving around. Two smaller ones split off, and were suddenly in front of Twilight, looking at him in fear and worry.
âL... Legend?â Twilight wheezed at the blur of pink in his vision, and the rabbit nodded, the otter beside him quickly patting Twilightâs forehead.
âYep, and me too. Hold still, weâll have you out in a second,â Wind reassured, and he and Legend got to pulling and gnawing on the ropes, snapping them with their teeth.
Twilight followed their wishes and kept still while they worked, not really able to move anyway. It didnât take Legend and Wind long to snap enough ropes for him to get loose, and Twilight tried to get his eyes to focus as he surveyed the scene.
Time and Warriors were attempting to keep the cloaked figures back, Wild helping them where he could. Sky clung to Timeâs back, occasionally shooting out a paw, and Hyrule hovered closer to Twilight, still looking wobbly, but keeping his footing. All of them still looked battered and shaken, but they were putting up a fair fight.
Especially thanks to the teenager Twilight didnât recognize in the middle of the fighting, damp hair falling in his face, his expression a mixture of determination and annoyance.
âYou,â the old woman seethed, glaring at the teenager. âYouâve caused us nothing but trouble, boy.â
âYeah a lot of people tell me that,â he shrugged, then threw himself out of the way of a sudden thrust from a knife.
âWho..?â Twilight started to ask, and Legend snorted.
âWe picked him up on our way here, he fell in through the ceiling and nearly squashed Wild. Said heâd figured out there was trouble and came to help. Pretty sure heâs the hero of this world, even though he said he wasnât much of one. Heâs almost as crazy as the champion.â
Wind snickered. âYeah, but I like him.â
Twilight struggled to sit up, body shrieking in protest at the movement. Legend and Wind gave him worried looks, but Twilight refused to be held down, and struggled upwards, breathing hard as he managed to get to his knees.
âFour,â he realized suddenly, jerking his head around. âWhereâsââ
âThere,â Wind said, quickly climbing up to sit on Twilightâs shoulder. Twilight looked where he was pointing, and he began to stumble towards the stone pedestal where Four was struggling to stand. The smithy chirped as they approached, something like confusion on his face, and Twilight realized with a flicker of annoyance he couldnât understand him anymore.
âYeah itâs me and Wind and everyone and also another guy, please donât ask right now,â Legend replied with a sigh, obviously able to understand. âWe need to go.â
âHere,â Twilight urged, holding out a hand, and when Four struggled his way over to it, Twilight picked him up and cradled him gently to his chest. He could see blood on Fourâs feathers, and felt a sharp prick of guilt.
âMistress, theyâre escaping!â the giggly woman shouted, and Twilight just barely managed to duck away from a sudden thrust of a knife, the old woman looking extremely displeased.
âYouâre ruining the ceremony,â she said with a cold anger, and lunged forward again.
Twilight dodged, but Wind cried out, the pearlescent blade nicking his side. A short ripple of magic shot outwards, and Wind dropped from Twilightâs shoulder like a stone, another pained shout coming from him.
Panic shot through Twilight and he quickly moved to stand in front of Wind, sucking in a breath as he saw Windâs form ripple unnaturally, then convulse, a strangled cry ripping from his throat.
He began to elongate, his limbs stretching out, tail shrinking away. Twilight dodged another slash from the woman, and shouted for assistance as Wind slowly shifted back into his proper form, the curse peeled away from him agonizingly slow.
Someone shouted as Legend growled, and despite his injured paw, he launched himself up at the woman, sinking his teeth into her arm. Her green eyes flashed and she threw him aside with a squeak, horrible cracking and shifting noises coming from where Wind lay.
She turned her sights on Twilight again as Windâs cries turned to a scream, his body almost finished shifting back, and Twilight leveled shaky fists at her as Four puffed himself up and tried to look menacing.
The woman stepped forward. âYou will notââ
The unfamiliar teenager lunged in front of Twilight, blocking her attack with a swipe of his own dagger. He shot a glance back at Twilight, worry on his face as he looked at Wind, then dodged another swipe.
âWretched child!â the woman shrieked, and the teenager in green leapt over a burst of magic, his hair flying in his face.
âGo, get out of here!â he shouted, and Twilight stumbled back, dropping to his knees beside Windâs trembling form.
He was gasping for breath, eyes shining with tears, and Warriors suddenly ran over, urgency in the neigh he let out.
âCanât understand you,â Twilight frowned, and Warriors jerked his head in Windâs direction, then twisted around and motioned at his back. âYou... want to carry him? Can you handle that?â
Warriors snorted, and that was enough of a confirmation for Twilight.
He ran a quick hand over Windâs head, a bright swirl of blue on his forehead, and the sailor winced.
âO-ow,â he moaned, still trembling, and Twilight did his best to sit him up, his own arms shaking as he moved him. He knew he wouldnât be able to lift him up onto Warriorsâ back, and Warriors seemed to realize it, quickly crouching down on mostly-steady legs.
âWind, can you hold onto Wars?â Twilight asked, and the sailor gave a bleary nod, still shaking.
Twilight did his best to shove him up, and Wind slumped on Warriorsâ back, tangling a few shaky fingers in his mane. Warriors winced but didnât otherwise react, and carefully stood, Four chirping worriedly. Warriors neighed something in response, and Four made an irritated sound, squawking as he flapped a wing.
Another cloaked woman ran up, but the new teenager kept her back, his blade glinting in the light of the rocks, and he shot a glance back at them all.
âGet going! Didnât you hear me?â he shouted, then reeled as he was struck on the shoulder.
He recovered quickly, but Twilight had seen blood, and he knew the kid was right. This wasnât a fight they were going to win.
As if to emphasize the point, Time suddenly ran over and shoved Twilight towards the entrance to a tunnel he hadnât seen before, barking something at him he couldnât understand. Twilight stumbled, but regained his footing, holding Four to his chest.
Wind swayed where he clung to Warriors, but he hung on tight, Warriors keeping as steady as he could. Time ended up staying beside Twilight as a furry crutch, Sky giving him and Wind concerned looks, and they all rushed for the tunnel, furious shouts coming from behind them.
Twilight noticed a bloody scratch on Warriors as they reached the tunnel, blood marring his pale side. He whinnied something behind him, and Hyrule stumbled forward, his flanks heaving as he tried to keep up. Relief flickered through Twilight as he saw Legend limping beside him, and Four cawed happily.
âComing through!â Wildâs voice yelled, and the unfamiliar teenager ran forward with the squirrel clinging to his shoulder, a bomb in his hands.
They all charged forward as the teenager chucked the bomb behind them, and an explosion shook the floor, rocks falling where theyâd been standing moments ago.
Time dropped back and snatched Legend up by the scruff, and Warriors began shoving Hyrule, the teenager Twilight didnât recognize helping with pulling the deer forward across the rocky ground.
The tunnel curved and Twilight saw light ahead that steadily grew brighter. A furious shout came from behind them as they ran, something echoing through the tunnel that was lost in the sound of it collapsing.
The ground shook and he held tight to Timeâs fur as the wolf practically dragged him forward, rocks crashing down, his head spinning, the light growing bigger and brighter by the second.
The teenager shouted, Time lunged forward, and they all spilled out from the tunnel into a grassy clearing, the whole thing collapsing in behind them.
Twilight landed on his back with a wheeze, Time and Legend panting beside him. Four was still resting on his chest, feathers puffed in alarm, and Twilight gasped for breath, every bit of him aching and sore.
Theyâd made it out.
Twilight wheezed and closed his eyes, exhaustion heâd been ignoring hitting him like a moblin.
Oh thank Ordona.
âThatâll hold them for a while,â the new guy panted, swiping some of his hair from his face. He gave Twilight a weary grin when he looked at him. âThis isnât the only exit, but itâll take them a loooong time to get to the other one.â
He let out a loud whew, then flopped on the ground beside the others, Wild hopping out of his arms. The champion sniffed at his shoulder, his head tilted in concern, and Twilight saw a line of blood on the teenagerâs neck, dripping into his hair.
âHey you okay? That looks painful,â Wild asked, and the teenager (or Link, probably) waved him off.
âAh, this? Iâll be fine, no worries,â he said with a grin, though Twilight saw the edges were strained. âJust a scratch.â
The dust from the collapse began to settle, and Twilight wearily raised his head and looked around, making sure everyone else had made it. Warriors was sitting close by, saying something to Hyrule flopped beside him, the two still panting for breath and looking a bit worse for wear. Wind had been slid off his back, and Sky was curled up beside him, the sailor pale and looking like he was going to be sick. Wild was still sitting by the unfamiliar teenager, and was saying something to him, scratching at one of his ears.
The teenager caught Twilightâs eye again as he looked at him, and gave him a half-grin.
âNot too bad of a dayâs work,â he said cheerfully, as if they hadnât all just escaped by the skin of their teeth. âYou alright there? You look like youâre going to pass out.â
Wild wasnât the only one who immediately looked over at Twilight, and Four let out a worried chirp, getting to his feet and cocking his head as he looked at him.
âIâm alright,â Twilight reassured weakly, and Legend let out an exhausted scoff.
âYeah, sure. We all heard you screaming back there, donât start that.â
âYou all arenât exactly in... pristine condition, either,â Twilight huffed, and let his head fall back to the ground.
Time whined from nearby, and Twilight let him sniff over his sore and aching body, even putting up with the cold nose Time accidentally poked his neck with. Finally he seemed content enough with his examination, and Time sat back down beside Twilight with a huff, Twilight trying to ignore the darkness wavering on the edge of his vision.
He blinked dizzily, conversation floating over his head and past his ears without turning into anything recognizable. A groan from Wind was perfectly legible though, and guilt gnawed at Twilight as he tried to look at the sailor.
Wind was still deathly pale and shaking, and Warriors was saying something to him, Sky translating. Wind shook his head to whatever it was, then pressed his face against Warriorsâ neck with a whimper.
If you hadnât run ahead, this probably wouldnât have happened, his mind whispered, and Twilight closed his eyes, headache growing suddenly worse.
âRancher? You all right?â Legendâs voice asked from somewhere close by. Twilight mumbled a response, his head spinning and darkness tugging at him.
Four chirped quietly, nuzzling his head against Twilightâs cheek, and something soft settled itself on Twilightâs other side, patting his shoulder.
âGo ahead and rest, Twi,â Legend said from his side, his voice surprisingly soft. âWe can handle things.â
That and Time pressing himself against his side were the last things Twilight was aware of before darkness overtook him.
(...)
It felt like both an eternity and barely a moment when Twilight awoke with a start, eyes shooting open as he lurched upright... and nearly clocking his forehead against Timeâs.
âWhoa, easy there pup,â Time said, catching his shoulders when he pitched forward.
Twilight blinked a couple times, willing his fuzzy vision to clear, and realized he was in a bed, soft sheets over him, early dawn light rippling over the blankets. He raised his head, but barely took in the room as he focused on Timeâs face, squinting as he noticed something off about it.
Then he startled as he realized Time wasnât a wolf anymore.
âHuh?â he asked blearily, and Time cracked a smile, gently pushing him back down again.
âGood morning to you too. Our new Link and a few of the others found our belongings, including the Master Sword,â Time explained, brushing some hair out of his face. It looked more brightly golden than normal, and Twilight saw a few strands of white streaked through it. âSky said we could use it to shift back, and he was correct. It still wasnât pleasant, but I believe it went much more smoothly than you or the sailorâs experiences.â
âHuh,â Twilight repeated, and Time smiled again.
âAre you hungry? The inn here has excellent food. If youâre not up for that you should have some water at least, youâve been out for more than a day,â he replied quietly, a flicker of worry in his eye.
Twilightâs stomach growled before he could answer, and he and Time both smiled.
âIâll fetch you some of both,â he said with a pat to Twilightâs shoulder. Time then stood up a bit stiffly, stretching his arms behind his back with a grimace. Twilight heard a crack, and Time straightened, then walked quietly out of the room.
Twilight properly studied the room then, tired eyes glazing past curtains and a picture of flowering tree on the wall, then zeroed in on another bed in the room.
Wind was curled up under the sheets, still looking pale where he lay. Four was flopped beside him, the tips of his hair and cheeks shimmering with color that matched the feathers heâd been sporting. Warriors was snoring quietly in a chair beside them, his hair paler than normal, with a light-colored spot right in the middle of his forehead.
Twilight slowly sat up, grunting as his sore body protested, but he managed to get upright enough to see the other bed in the room as well. Sky was the one the most under the blankets, his hair color paler with some darker bits scattered throughout, but Wild and Legend were both under them somewhat as well, Wildâs hair streaked with silvery-blue, Legendâs back to fully pink. Hyrule was at the foot of the bed, just as deeply asleep as the rest of them, green flecks scattered across his face, two larger spots on his forehead.
The only one unaccounted for was the new kid, but when Time came back a few moments later, he was following behind him, grey-green eyes fixed on Twilight.
âHey, youâre alive!â he said with a grin, grabbing a chair and sitting on it backwards. âThatâs great, we were starting to worry.â
âIâm alright,â Twilight reassured, taking a bite of the warm bread Time had brought him. Oh that tasted good. âJust... tired.â
âYou and everyone else, itâs been nothing but sleeping around here,â the teenager said with a glance at the others, his grin fading. âYou guys had it really rough down there, Iâm sorry.â
âItâs hardly your fault,â Time said, eating his own piece of bread. âI doubt we would have made it out of there without you.â
âYeah... maybe. I just usually keep a better eye on the Farore weirdos, and right when I think theyâre pretty much just down to stragglers, they somehow get twice as active and kidnap a bunch of people and torture them,â he said miserably. âI thought Iâd taken care of them. I thought their leader was gone, and yet she was down there carrying on like always.â
âIâm certain thatâs not your fault,â Time said grimly. âThe reason weâre all traveling together is likely to blame.â
âYou think it was the Shadow?â Twilight asked quietly. Time shrugged.
âIâm not discounting it. But,â he said, taking another bite of bread, âtheories can come later. At the moment, all anyone needs to be doing is to rest. We deserve a break after all of that.â
Twilight smiled. âI agree.â
The other Link looked like he was bursting with questions, but he nodded, and bounced his leg as he drank some kind of juice from a cup. Twilight studied him a bit, looking at his unkempt hair and mossy green tunic. He looked about like all the rest of them, and Twilight couldnât help his sigh, finishing off his bread. Yet another kid dragged into this mess.
A yelp from across the room interrupted his thoughts, and all three of them startled and looked over at Wind, who had shot upright with his eyes wide.
Time stood to go over to him, but Warriors was faster, waking up and going to Windâs bedside with a worried look. He said something quietly as Four also sat up, and the three of them looked over at Twilight at the same time.
Relieved smiles lit all their faces, and Twilight gave them an exhausted one in return.
âHelp me up,â Wind urged, and Warriors complied, helping Wind stand and supporting him as he wobbled over. The sailor shimmied up onto Twilightâs bed, then settled himself beside him with a smile.
âHey sailor. Feeling better?â Twilight asked, and Wind hummed.
âBetter than I did. I have no clue how you go back and forth between Wolfie like that,â he said tiredly, and Twilight sighed.
âMy transformation isnât nearly that painful, and only takes a few seconds,â Twilight replied, slinging an arm around Wind. âThis... was not the norm.â
âThatâs good to know,â Four said as he slowly walked up, parts of both his arms wrapped in bandages. â...Iâm fine, Twi, I see you looking guilty.â
Twilight lowered his gaze, and Wind squeezed himself a bit tighter against his side.
âI shouldâve done more. I shouldnât have run ahead,â he murmured, looking at his hands. âIf Iâd waited for you all, we mightâve been able to make an actual plan that didnât involve... everything this one did.â
âIt wouldnât have changed anything if youâd waited, Rancher,â Four chided, sitting on the bed. âThey weâre already hurting me before you showed up, and I wouldâve been changed back with that knife. Plus, who knows? They mightâve taken off my hand if youâd taken too long.â
âWhile I donât appreciate you tearing ahead, it did end up being the best for Four,â Warriors added, crossing his arms.
âThereâs no use dwelling on it, itâs in the past,â Time finished, and faintly smiled. âBesides, if weâd all rushed ahead, or even all held back, we might not have met our other hero here.â
The new Link blushed a little, but also smiled, a grin pulling at uneven teeth.
âTrue. Though... I still donât totally get the whole time-traveling-multiple-guys-named-Link thing,â he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. âThe guy who was a rabbit explained, but we were kind of in a rush...â
âWell thereâs not much more to it than that, but once everyone is awake Iâll give you a more detailed explanation,â Warriors assured, and Wind grinned.
âAnd then we can give you a nickname!â
Wind started listing off ideas, each more terrible than the next, and Four squeezed Twilightâs arm as he looked over at him.
âSeriously Rancher, thank you,â he said softly, and Twilight nodded at him, feeling a little better. âI know youâre feeling torn, but it was in the heat of the moment. I doubt you couldâve made a perfect decision.â
âI still left the others behind,â he murmured, and Four sighed.
âYeah. But they handled it. And so did we. And so did Wind. Try not to worry about it, weâre all safe now.â
Twilight breathed out, and tried to heed Fourâs words. He didnât exactly regret running ahead, but heâd gotten himself and Four hurt in the process, and Wind as well, thought somewhat tangentially, and he knew heâd be thinking about the whole situation for a while yet, wondering what he couldâve done better.
But... Time was right. It was in the past.
And theyâd all made it out alive.
Twilight finished off his bread as he listened to the others chat, a hesitant sort of peace settling over him. The new guy was saying something about a swamp monster and how heâd ended up meeting Zelda, and Twilight settled back to listen, a smile pulling at his cheeks. Wind nestled a bit more tightly against his side, setting his head on his arm, and Four also leaned against him, listening contentedly.
Twilight looked around at them all while they talked, Sky and the others on his bed beginning to stir, everyone injured and marked by magic in some way.
But they were all back to normal. All recovering.
Twilight smiled, and closed his eyes, resting his head over Windâs.
All safe.
#linkeduniverse#linked universe#whumptober#lu twilight#lu chain#all the links#swamp link#<- he snuck in. the little sneak#whumptober 2024#day 30#recovery#tw injury#writing from the floor#ougggh the ending suffered and you can tell#but I was done with this lol#and itâs okay enough#enjoy#oh also#four is a sun parakeet#but with his tunic colors instead#theyâre smart little birds and I thought it would be fun
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lamine girlfriend being so happy that heâs finally taking the time to rest, like he tells her heâs not playing and heâs not going with the national team and she almost cries because sheâs always so stressed that heâs pushing himself too much
Baby, I Love You â Lamine Yamal.
Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader
Summary: After an intense amount of worrying about your boyfriend and his constant urge to play, he shares some news with you that leaves you feeling both worried and relieved.
Word Count: 465+
Disclaimer/s â None really, just comfort/and fluff.
A/N: And then you open TikTok and see him dancing bachata to Aventura đ¤Śââď¸đ¤Śââď¸đ¤Śââď¸đ¤Śââď¸ boy PLEASE.
It was nearing midnight when you received a text from Lamine asking if he could come over. It was never unusual for him to ask, but considering he had a game to practice for, you couldnât stop the small pang of confusion that rose within you.
You opened the boyâs message and replied back quickly, âHi, of course. Iâll leave the door unlocked.â
With nothing else to do but wait, you decided youâd finish up your homework, not even noticing the sight of your door slowly creaking open.
It wasnât until you saw his figure from the corner of your eye that you gasped and jumped up, your eyes narrowing when you heard Lamine laugh.
âLamineâno call, no text, not even a greeting!?â You exclaimed, covering your face with your hands. âOh, my God. I canât even look at you.â
Hearing his footsteps toward you, he uses his hands to pry your own away from your face. âIâm sorry! You said itâd be unlocked. I thought youâd be, I donât know, waiting for me or something.â
âWell! You thoughtâwhatever. Sit! Sit! Tell me about your day. Did something happen orâŚ?â
Doing as told, he moves to sit on your chair, and thatâs when you notice somethingâs wrong. It takes you a few seconds to realize, but it clicksâhe has a limp. âWait. Lamine, what happened?â
âIâm not able to play for Spain,â he grumbled.
That wasnât what you were referring to, yet the relief you felt was unmistakable. He could rest, but at what cost? âIâm sorry. Because of that?â
Following your line of sight, Lamine offers a small chuckle and nods. âYeah, because of that. Iâm out for the break. Might be even more, Iâm not sure.â
You stand up and plop down beside him. âYouâll be back. Even better and even stronger. Not that you werenât already before. Does it hurt at all?â
âOnly if I apply too much pressure on it. Nothing an ice pack canât fix. Or help lessen the pain.â
âIce pack,â you repeat quietly. âIâll be right back.â
âI donât need one nowâhey,â Lamine frowned when you stand up, his hands finding both of yours. âItâs fine. Can we just⌠do something?â
âSorry, of course. We can build Legos, watch a movie, a show, or just lay down. Your choice!â
âWhat were you doing before I came andââ
âScared me? I was just finishing up homework.â
Your answer does absolutely nothing but make his expression morph into one of disgust, eliciting a laugh from you. âI thought so. Lay down, go on your phone, Iâll be done super soon, okay?â
âTake your time,â he hums. âCan I sleep over?â
With a shrug, you smile and say, âWell, youâre already here. I donât really see why you canât.â
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) â @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ๨ŕ§
#lamine yamal#lamine yamal x reader#lamine yamal x fem!reader#lamine yamal x you#lamine yamal x y/n#lamine yamal fluff#lamine yamal comfort#lamine yamal blurb#lamine yamal imagine#lamine yamal oneshot#request#jilval#baby i love you - ramones
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I'll See You in My Dreams ~ Prologue
A/N: This is the sequel to my 2022 story, Where I Belong. I had no plans to write a follow up to that, since it seemed Noelle and Thorinâs story was told as far as it could go. But then, a few weeks ago, I found myself wondering what would happen if Thorin somehow came back to Noelleâs place and time? What if their story wasnât quite finished? Anyway, here is, I hope, what will be the answer to those questions. And if youâre unfamiliar with Noelle and Thorin, here is where their story beganâŚÂ
Summary: Noelle James knows soul mates exist, the trouble is, she just canât seem to find hers. Especially since hers seemed to have existed only in the world of cinema and The Hobbit movies. No one believes she actually spent time in Tolkienâs Middle Earth and even fewer believe Thorin Oakenshield existed in her world, either.Â
So when she finds herself unexpectedly alone on yet another Christmas, she has no way of knowing exactly what the universe has in store for her this time.The trouble is, this man claiming to be Thorin canât possibly be him, for he died at the hands of Azog the Defiler at Ravenhill. She saw him die with her own eyes.
So, it canât be him.
Or can it?
Pairing: Thorin x ofc Noelle James
Warnings: None
Rating: T
Word Count: 1.3k
Iâll see you in my dreamsÂ
When all our summers have come to an end
Iâll see you in my dreams,
Weâll meet and live and laugh again
Iâll see you in my dreams, up around the riverbed
For death is not the endâŚ
Prologue
Erebor
Thorin hadnât realized he was humming until Thalia shot him a quizzical look, to which he replied, âWhat?â
âYouâre doing it again.â
He bit back a sigh, setting down his fork. âI apologize. Iâve had a long day and have much on my mind. And for some reason, I cannot seem to pry the tune from my head.â
âBut that song is like none Iâve ever heard.â Her forehead wrinkled, her thick, dark brows furrowing as she did so. In the flickering golden candlelight, that expression made her face, normally so round and full of laughter, look almost craggy and wizened. It wasn't the first time heâd thought so, but for some reason, it had troubled him far more often of late.
He shared supper with her every evening in her flat and until recently, it had been a highlight of his day. They got on well and she made him smile, and little by little, it seemed only natural that he should begin thinking about taking a wife. Taking her as his wife.
He hadnât broached the subject yet, though, as the timing just never seemed quite right. Then the blasted song began echoing inside his skull. There were no lyrics at first, only the melody. But, lately, as he hummed, hints of words had begun forming in his brain.
But where had he heard any of it, for it sounded like no music he knew.
âAre you certain? I thought we heard it at Yule?â
She shook her head, the wooden beads in her beard clacking. âI know Iâve never heard it. Might you at least sing me some of it?â
He shook his head. âI recall no words, but only the music.â He reached for his napkin, dabbed at his lips, and then pushed back his chair to rise. âMy apologies, Thalia. I think it would be best if I took my leave now.â
Her lips curved downward in a hint of a pout and the motion smoothed the furrows in her forehead as if an invisible filament connected them. âHave you found fault with my cooking?â
âNo, of course not. It just as I said, Iâve much on my mind and I fear Iâm not good company as a result.â
She rose, skirting the table to catch him by the wrist. âPerhaps a walk might clear your thoughts.â
âThank you, but no. I think only sleep will help this time.â He patted her hand, then pulled free to strides toward the door. âI will see you come tomorrow, then.â
âYes, of course.â
âGoodnight.â
âGoodnight.â
He stepped out of her flat, pulling the door softly closed behind him. Flames danced behind globes of frosted glass in sconces mounted high along the labradorite stone walls that were slowly being polished back to their former glory.
Erebor. For so long, Thorin could only dream of reclaiming his home, of rightfully claiming his throne within those stone walls. Now that he had, it wasn't quite the dream come true heâd once imagined. No, heâd spent nearly six months recuperating from the wounds heâd received at Ravenhill, at hands of the pale orc Azog the Defiler, and when heâd done that?
The real work had begun.
It was a two-steps-forward-one-step-back process, but over the last six months, he could at least now see the signs of renovation, especially in the main levels of the kingdom. The lower levels, aside from the forges, still needed much in the way of work, but as he made his way up to the Great Hall, cracked, damaged, and sooty stone gave way to solid walls polished to an almost-mirror like finish.Â
But he didn't stop at the Great Hall. Nor did he make his way up to the ramparts, where heâd preferred to go when he needed to think and clear his head.Â
No this time, he went outside, nodding at the guard in the gatehouse as he left the warmth of the fortress to step into the darkness of the winter night. Snow drifted, blew this way and that, swirling wildly about him as he followed the narrow slate pathway away from Erebor. The pathway became a flight of cut-stone stairs, worn and crumbling in places, that led up behind his kingdom, toward a different fortress. One he did not often venture to without good reason.Â
Ravenhill was not high on the list of his favorite places. In fact, he avoided it as much as possible. But for some reason, he felt drawn there this evening. The tune that had been playing in his head for the last few days grew louder now. And not only that, but the words that had been but fragments were fragments no more. Instead, they became words he knew, yet didn't know at all.Â
Well, it ainât no secret, Iâve been 'round a time or two. Well, I donât know, baby, maybe you been around, too. Well, thereâs another dance, honey. All you gotta do is say yes, and if youâre rough and ready for love, honey, Iâm tougher than the rest.
The voice singing them in his head did not belong to him. It was raspier than his and not nearly as deep. And while he didn't know whose voice it was, he knew he would know the name, should he ever hear it.
Or perhaps he was just going mad again.Â
Snow blew harder now, but he didn't really feel the cold. Didn't notice the flakes sweeping his nose, getting caught in his beard, in his hair. All he knew was the voice in his head grew louder as he neared the river.Â
A vision swept before his eyes. A woman. With a long tangle of red hair. In his arms.
Well, it ainât no secret, Iâve been 'round a time or two. Well, I donât know, baby, maybe you been around, too. Well, thereâs another dance, honey. All you gotta do is say yes, and if youâre rough and ready for love, honey, Iâm tougher than the rest.
He closed his eyes against the rising voice inside his head.Â
The voice grew louder still.Â
A dull thud jarred through him as he dropped to his knees alongside the rushing river.Â
The music swelled.
âLeave me in peace⌠MahalâŚâ he gritted, his hands pressing against his ears as if that would somehow block the sounds.Â
It blocked nothing. It didn't even quiet them. Instead, the voice grew louder.Â
Well, it ainât no secret, Iâve been 'round a time or two. Well, I donât know, baby, maybe you been around, too. Well, thereâs another dance, honey. All you gotta do is say yes, and if youâre rough and ready for love, honey, Iâm tougher than the rest.
Nausea swelled. Bile rose into the back of his throat. He gagged. He coughed.
The blackness came out of nowhere, roaring in his ears like that of Smaug the terrible just before he broke through Ereborâs front façade to torch Esgaroth to cinders. It filled his ears. It pressed into him from all sides.Â
And with a final gulp, it swallowed him whole.Â
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#The Hobbit#Thorin Oakenshield#Hobbit Fic#Hobbit Fanfic#Fan fiction#The Hobbit fan fiction#Thorin x OC#The Hobbit AU#Thorin Fic#Is it hot in here?#Modern Woman#Romance#Richard Armitage
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He stared at him for a handful of seconds, gauging his reaction before his shoulders lifted and fell into a casual shrug, letting it go. â Alright. â He wasn't sure he believed him, drawing all sorts of wrong conclusions, like maybe he had a crush on Isla or something . . . but he wasn't bothered by it, either. He was, surprisingly, not a jealous person. Not when it came to the living.
â Sorry, man. I know that's not what you wanted to hear. â Kingston knew it wasn't comforting, but anything else would be a lie. And while he was clearly capable of dishonesty, he wasn't a path logical liar or anything ; just a dumb kid in over his head. â If it's any consolation, I think it just makes it mean more . . . when there's something to lose. â Of course, everyone had different stakes, he could never explain how much was actually on the line with him. Maybe if he could, it would make Thomas' reasons seem less suffocating. Or maybe he would just instantly hate him.
â We're friends, ain't we? â He knew as he said it that it wasn't entirely true ; though he appeared to be a social butterfly, Kingston didn't have friends, not really. A friend to all was a friend to none. It was hard to be close to people when they could never know you and he, Marcus, had always been more of a loner. He wanted to be loved, he craved appreciation like oxygen, but he did not care to be surrounded by people. Still, he liked Thomas enough â he liked all of them here, perhaps some ( Isla ) more than others, he cared about their well beings. But what did that matter, when he had cared about Luke's, too?
I was like his fuckin' pet or something. The words, though meant to be about himself, felt like a slap to Kingston's face. That was how he had acted, wasn't it? Like a stray dog following him around, lost the moment his owner was gone, not knowing what he was meant to do . . . who he was meant to be. He had practically worshiped the ground Luke walked on, let his charm win people over for him ; he did anything and everything he was asked without question, as if there was no reason to doubt him, no reason to take a step back and wonder what Luke was getting out of their friendship. He longed to be seen as his equal so much he was willing to give a life, though not his own, for it. Now, he drew a ragged breath, the air around them seeming to drop ten degrees with new realizations.
â He was my best friend, you know, â he spoke after a moment, the words so genuine they felt heavy in a different way. â First real friend I ever made. Well. I thought he was, anyway . . . guess I was a pretty shitty one, too. â Arguably worse ; would Luke have gone looking for him, had he been missing? He didn't know . . . he didn't know which answer was worse. When he spoke again, a strange tone took over his voice, like a warning, his eyes trained on the distance, seeing something that wasn't there. â It sucks, doesn't it? â When people don't turn out to be who you thought they were. â
AT KINGSTON'S QUESTION , thomas's head flew up , a heated flush crawling up his neck and dampening his features in a scarlet humiliation . " w-what ?? NO , man â god . fuckin' hell , i'm just â i'm not trying to say anything . " tom heaved a sigh , pushing his hand through his hair â fisting his curls , only to hiss in response to the agonizing irritation of the gash still tacky on the back of his skull .
thomas swallowed down the man's words , let them fester in his gut like a brewing sickness , and crinkled his brows as he moved the pad of his thumb to his clenched teeth . his bite found his cuticle , beginning to gnaw at it ferociously , his other arm wrapping around his torso to offer his bent elbow a post of stability . " there's no way someone doesn't get hurt , " thomas echoed , shaking his head , as if the response wasn't to his satisfaction and he was hoping â praying â for the man to say anything else .
thomas didn't necessarily believe in happy endings , but he was hoping there was some reality in which he and eliza got out of the predicament they were in unscathed . that camille would accept them , their connection , with open arms , minimal questions , and little restraint . little resistance . it was a fantastical concept meant to ease his own guilt , but kingston's words struck like a metal spear â a reminder that there was no way to get to the other side of this without someone , without camille , being there to break his fall .
" i dunno , " the man shrugged , frowning at the blanket of soot-caked grass . " there's just , " thomas sighed . " there's this girl , i uh , i met her , , , , back home , " not a lie . " â that's why i'm askin' . SHE'S why i'm askin' . and i don't know if you know this but my only friend , that isn't my sister , turned out to be a demonic shit bag . though , now that i'm fuckin' thinkin' about it , i don't think he was ever my fuckin' friend to begin with . i was like his , , , his fuckin' pet or something . " rambling now , thomas cleared his throat , finally prying his thumb from his mouth to drop his chin to his sternum ; " god , i don't even know what i'm talkin' about . i need a fuckin' smoke . "
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to quote a great tweet... "Girl you was eating would."
#dying's easy art is hard#honkai star rail#sunday hsr#Fascinated by bargain brand cronin's struggles with whatever the fuck is wrong with him#not even the ocd he has something much more sinister going on.#just realized none of what i said just now is in my own words. i think it's time to turn off the computer
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Lead Us Not Into Temptation
Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader
Warnings:Â NON-CON, mentions of prostitution, mentions of infidelity
âĽÂ banner by @vase-of-liliesÂ
summary: turning your life around is easier said than done when you tempt the very man meant to lead you to salvation.
âą
âBless me, father, for I have sinnedâŚâ
The familiar words tumbled from your lips, and your gaze remained on your lap, eyes following your finger as you traced patterns into the solid black skirt on your frame. It kissed your ankle as you shifted your feet, and the reminder of the long fabric had you swallowing down less than gentle thoughts. You slowly reached up to touch the collar of your shirt, eyes briefly falling closed as you cleared your throat.
Youâd spent hours agonizing over how youâd leave the houseâŚ
âIt has been seven days since my last confession. These are my sins.â
Like clockwork, you listed the time you cursed for some accident or another and the time you took the Lordâs name in vain and the brief impure thought about that attractive man youâd seen in the grocery store. Every week, it was the same. Sins that you yourself would never have considered as such months ago that you were now hyper aware of. They climbed out of your throat seamlessly, remembering every single one until only one was left.
The silence between you and the man just on the other side of that wall stretchedâa familiar occurrenceâand you took your lip between your teeth. You could taste blood as you worried it, swallowing it down before clearing your throat again. You smoothed your hand over your skirt, and you furiously blinked, struggling to blink away the tears that had started to collect. As you sat in silence, you wondered why you were trying so hard to impress people that had already written you off?
âIâve hadâŚsome hateful thoughts as well.â
You struggled to get the words out, always struck by just how emotional this made you. You looked up towards the ceiling, eyes roaming, and you hadnât even realized that your breathing had started to pick up until he spoke.
Father Mayhew.
âTake your time,â he gently encouraged. âSpeak when you are ready.â
It wasnât the first time youâd heard those words, recalling your first ever confessional and how youâd cried. It was as embarrassing now as it was then, but it was necessary. You were determined to live differently nowâto be different, now.
âAlthough I have abandoned my former life andâŚoccupationâŚâ you thought you heard him shift. â...I feel as if I will never truly be forgiven for it.â
You swiped your tongue between your lips.
â...will never be accepted.â
You recalled the eyes that often found their way to you during massâthe judgment, the disdain, the way in which some stared at you as if they didnât know how to place you.Â
Every sunday it was the same. Youâd wake up and agonize over how to present yourself in a place as holy as this. Youâd fret that this skirt was too short and that dress was too tight. Youâd fiddle with your hair for far too long and every lipstick you wiped off would stain your lips a little more than the last. You were constantly at a crossroad, torn between wanting to look nice for church and concerned about looking likeâŚwellâŚa whore.
You struggled to swallow.
âI see the way they look at me,â you eventually whispered, staring at nothing. âI canât hear what they whisper, but I know itâs about me.â
You touched your throat, hating how tight it felt.
âItâsâŚdiscouraging.â
You didnât want to use that word, but it was the only word that was appropriate. It made you sad, and you often wondered why you kept returning to a place that made you sad. Surely a church wasnât necessary to âfind Godâ...right? You didnât think so, but you had wanted to start somewhere, and considering that none of your friends even owned a bible, they had been of no help. Stepping foot into a place that had only ever served to be ominous and oppressive in your eyes was the most terrifying thing youâd ever done.
âŚbut then you had laid eyes on Father Mayhew.
Heâd been the only one in the church at the time, and you would never forget the curious glint in his dark gaze. Youâd had no doubt that he could see you were scared and unsure and in an environment you were wholly unused to. Youâd appreciated the gentle way in which he talked to you, guiding you towards a pew in the front as you asked him questions that some people had answers to their entire lives. He hadnât treated you like you were stupid, but more importantly, he hadnât treated you like you didnât belong.
You were willing to bet that he hadnât even known about you then.
Although, months later, you were willing to bet that he did nowâŚeven though youâd never told him.
âHumans are flawed,â his smooth voice reached your ears through the wall. âWe all fall shortâeven the most devout of usâand we find ourselves falling prey to the temptation of judgmentâŚprideâŚlustâŚâ
You intently listened. After all, heâd never said these words to you before, always giving you some speech about Godâs love trumping all.
âI have no doubt that it is trying, but I am sure you will come to give them grace for their sins just as they will give you grace for yours. We are all Godâs children striving to lead a life in his imageâŚâ
His voice lowered at that, and you frowned slightly, looking towards the wall and thinking to yourself that he almost seemed to be talking to himself now.
âHe wants his children to love one another, a feat that is not without difficulty Iâm sure you knowâŚâ that actually made you hold back a chuckle. â...but Godâs love is powerful and he always grants forgiveness to those who genuinely yearn and ask for it.â
At that, you did smile.
You told him that you were truly sorry for your sins, and he told you to say ten Hail Maryâs, and you stepped out of the confessional feeling better than you did thirty minutes ago. You didnât know how long the feeling would last though, and so you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could, but you knew from experience that was easier said than done.
You touched the crucifix around your neck as you stepped out of your building.
It had once belonged to your mother, and despite how long sheâd been gone and how down on your luck youâd been ever since, you could never quite find it in you to pawn it. It was real goldâprobably the only real piece of jewelry you ever ownedâbut you just couldnât do it, and you supposed that you were never meant to. Despite the many years youâd lived life as the complete opposite of a God fearing womanâŚit felt right sitting just below your collarbone.
Even if many would not agree.
You were no stranger to several men in this townâand the ones who often passed through on their truck routesâbut that had not stopped you from seeking solace and guidance from a place youâd never stepped foot into in your life. You couldnât lie and say it didnât feelâŚstrange to be in the same building as some of the men youâd serviced before, their wives and children at their side as they furiously avoided making eye contact with you. It felt even worse to watch the way the women would congregate together after church, excluding you all the while talking about you.
It felt somewhat pathetic for your only ally in the place to be the priest.
Although you sometimes wondered how true that was these days. Youâd never once confessed that you used to be a prostituteâalthough the kids called it sex work these daysâbut you werenât stupid. As godly and devout as they claimed to be, you knew that the church was filled with gossip and there was no telling whoâd let it slip to the dark haired man. You knew when he knew thoughâŚ
âŚbecause he looked at you different.
It wasnât a bad differentâthank God for thatâbut justâŚdifferent, and while it wasnât necessarily bad, you still didnât think you liked it. Confessionâbeing anonymousânever allowed for you to tell him your name, and considering youâd only ever spoken to him once outside of confession months ago, you didnât know if he ever knew it was you he was talking to. You didnât know if he knew that the woman he spoke so gently with each week and listened to cry on the other side of some window was the same woman who often shrunk under his heavy gaze as he looked down on his congregation.
You never felt like he was judging you, no, but you also never felt like he was looking at you as he did that first day, a gentle curiosity in his eyes. He wasnât your friendâfar from it in factâbut he felt like the closest thing you had to one in this church, and so you often forced yourself to find excuses for it. He watches you because he wants to make sure youâre settling in okay. He watches you to observe how other members of the church are treating you. He watches you because heâs wondering if youâll ever come to confession, convincing yourself that heâs never recognized your voice all this time.
That is why he watches you, you told yourself.
No other reason.Â
âYou always come to pray at least three times a weekâŚâ
The familiar voice startled you as you stood, hand lowering as youâd just finished signing the cross. Your hand was still on your chest as you turned to face him, a small smile on your lips as he stood directly in the center of the aisle. You hadnât even heard him make a single sound, and you wondered how long heâd been standing there.
He slowly returned your smile with one of his own, although it was smaller, and the silent way in which he stared at you reminded you that heâd said something to you.Â
âYes,â you finally said, moving away from the altar. âIt helps withâŚumâŚreally everything.â
He blinked at you, and you noticed that a strand of his hair was threatening to go rogue. He always looked so neat and perfect that it was hard to miss. Father Mayhew was handsomeâif anyone had seen enough men to know it was youâbut he was handsome in a way that you would categorize as flawless. Divine even. In a way that was untouchable and only meant to be admired in the most innocent of appreciation.Â
He slowly nodded at your response, and you didnât miss the way he studied youâdark eyes drinking you in and taking note of every stylistic choice youâd made today.
âYou know, I think I might see your face far more than those who have been coming here for years,â he lightly told you, a slight laugh on his lips.
You laughed with him, only offering him a shrug.
âIâm still new. Iâm sure it just seems that way because you arenât used to seeing me.â
He started to shake his head before you could even finish talking, and you watched him move closer.
âNo,â he murmuredâso low you almost didn't hear him. âI think you are perhaps my mostâŚdevout congregant.â
He touched your crucifix as he said this, dark eyes tracing the shape of it, and he was so close that you could smell his cologne. You blinked at the scent, finding it strange to know that he wore cologne. It shouldnât be strange, you supposed, but you realized then that you didnât quite view priestsâview himâas human. As normalâŚ
His eyes lifted then to finally connect with yours, and a crooked smile danced along his pink lips.
âItâs admirable,â he whispered. âMore of my congregation could stand to follow your lead.â
You couldnât ignore the way your chest bloomed at those words, almost hating how much validation you wanted from this place. Validation that you were a good personâŚyou werenât who you used to beâŚthat you were worthy of something more, you didnât know. It just felt relieving to hear such a compliment from Father Mayhew when no one else in the church would even give you a chance.
âThank you, Father,â you quietly replied to him. âThat means a lot to me.â
You watched him slowly inhale as he dropped his hand, and he seemed even slower to step out of your way. When you walked past him, you could feel his gaze on youâalways watchingâand you smiled when he called out to you, telling you that he looked forward to seeing you on Sunday.
No one was more sad than you when you had to disappoint him.
An unexpected cold had you bedridden for days, and while you knew that an illness was a perfectly valid excuse to miss church, you couldnât swallow down the disappointment. You hadnât missed a single Sunday since you first started going, and you thought to yourself that the first thing youâd do when you returned was explain your absence to Father Mayhew.
You had never anticipated him showing up at your door to get it himself.
No one ever knocked on your door these days, so the sound had taken you by surprise. Your friendsâwhile supportive of the direction your life had takenâdidnât quite understand it and so you didnât see them as often, and as for anyone else⌠Well, there wasnât anyone else who would come knocking on your door. You didnât do that anymore so no customers were going to be greeting you on the other side with their money in their hand and an eager grin on their lips, and you doubted any of the women in town would want to sit down for a chat anytime soon.
Your shock at Father Mayhewâs presence was all over your face.
âFather,â you stated, the lilt in your voice hinting at your surprise.
He looked just as you were used to seeing himâclerical collar still on, not a hair out of place, and a hint of a smile on those pink lips. You stood there gaping at him for all of five seconds before it struck you how rude you were probably being.
âIâŚIâm so sorry. UmâŚcome in,â you told him, stepping out of the way and widening the gap in the doorway.
He didnât respond nor move right away, looking past you into your small house with a look in his gaze that you couldnât name. If he were anyone else, you might worry that he was judging where you lived. You watched his jaw briefly tighten, a noticeable strain in his face, and it only just occurred to you that maybe this wasnât appropriate? Although you were positive youâd heard of priests and pastors visiting the sick before, and while you certainly werenât on your deathbed, you didnât see why this would be different.
Before you could say another word though, his foot crossed the threshold, and you closed the door behind him.
âI do apologize for the unexpected visit,â he said to you, gazing around before his eyes landed on you again. â...but when I noticed that mass was absent of a face Iâd grown to look forward to, I became concerned.â
You couldnât stop your smile at his words
âOh,â you softly said. âWell, thereâs no need to be concerned. Itâs just a small cold that will be gone in a day or two.â
You watched him exhale at that, nodding to himself, and you studied him, surprised to see that he looked genuinely relieved at that.
âIâm glad to hear thatâs all it isâŚâ
At that, your brows furrowed, and you watched him slowly walk about your living room.
âI had feared that some of your fellow church goers had scared you off.â
Your lips parted at his words, and he turned and looked at you.
âThey often fall into the temptation of judgment, after allâŚâ
Your heart skipped a beat, and you didnât know how to react with the knowledge that he knew it was you who came to see him once a week. Youâd only spoken to him face to face twice, and you swallowed, looking away.
âI thought it would be a shame if they scared you off,â he confessed, and you noted that he was closer now. âI wondered what I would have to do to convince you to come back. Drag you, perhaps.â
You gave a soft laugh at that, although he didnât join you, and it awkwardly faded. He stared at you in silence for what felt like a long time, and just when you were considering asking him if he wanted anything to drink, he reached out to touch the crucifix around your neck again.
âSo devout,â he quietly said to himself. âIt almost makes me ashamedâŚâ
At that, you gave a heavy laugh, wondering how you could ever shame a priest.
âWhy?â
â...because I see why they flocked to your doorâŚmoney in hand.â
His gaze lifted as he said that, and you were still as you both just stared at each other. His words made you blink, and you were suddenly very aware of his hand practically on you. You couldnât stop the slight frown that fell over your face, and for the first time in monthsâsince you first stepped foot into that churchâyou feltâŚwrong.
âI see why their eyes trace every inch of you when youâre not lookingâŚas if to relive the memory of what you felt likeâtasted like.â
You finally took a step back, hand coming up to cover your necklace as if protecting it from his touch.
âWhat memories they must have of youâŚâ
You wrapped your other arm around yourself, mind whirling to reconcile the man before you with the same man whoâd always been so welcoming and gentle. Not once did you ever think he judged you for your past, and you supposed that you were right, but not once did you ever think he also mightâŚ
You hadnât done that in over a year, but had it really escaped you so quickly that a seemingly devout man was stillâŚa man?
âFather, I think you should-.â
âI donât say any of this to offend you,â he interrupted, tilting his head. âI say it because I fight the urge to touch you every time youâre in my presence.â
You moved by him to make your way to the door, but like an ever present shadow you only just noticed, he was close behind.
âYou can cover up as much as youâd likeâwear skirts down to your ankle and shirts up to your chinâŚâ his hand on the door halted your movements.Â
You felt his chest just barely grazing your back, and his lips followed suit, the softness of them brushing against your ear as he spoke. That familiar cologne invaded your senses.
â...but none of it can hide the temptation you pose by merely existing.â
You shrunk away from him at that, tears in your eyes as he verbalized the same fears you had every time you walked into the building. You flinched when his lips touched the back of your neck, heart dropping to your stomach, but you reached for the door handle anyway.
âFather, Iâd like you to leave-.â
Your words were cut off by your own sharp scream, taken aback by the feel of his fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your throat. His hand rested on the back of your neck, and you pressed your hand to the door when his lips grazed your cheek.
âTheyâre all like rabid dogsâŚjust waiting to pounce,â he mused against your skin, sliding between you and the door and forcing you further into your house with every step. âJust waiting for you to give up this charade and go back to taking their money for a quick fuck.â
You blinked, and a few tears escaped.
â...but they donât know you like I know you.â
He grinned against your cheek, and you winced as he lightly nipped at the skin there.
âThey donât know that you come to church at least thrice a week to light candles and prayâŚâ
You were full on sobbing now, and you could feel the cool metal of his ring against the back of your neck.
âThey donât know that you never miss your weekly confession, telling me every time you so much as say the Lordâs name in vain.â
His free hand was reaching for the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one by one, and you gasped when his fingers finally met skin. He dipped his head, mouth finding the skin of your shoulder and collarbone interesting before his hand searched for your wrist.
âThey donât know that you are the most pious woman to walk through those doors,â he purred, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your wrist. â...and that I just want to ruin you for it.â
When his hand dipped between your legs, you were quick to try and stop him, still wincing at the tight grip on the back of your neck. Father Mayhew made a noise of disapproval, and your hand faltered when he harshly bit your shoulder.
âWe areâŚand always will beâŚsinnersâŚâ
Once his fingers were inside of you, it was like the point of no return. You found it funny that he likened the men in church to that of rabid dogs when he himself was behaving like the very thing he used to insult them. When your knees buckled, he followedâone arm around you and holding you in place while the fingers on his other hand curved into you.
Every thrust of his fingers made you wetterâembarrassingly soâand when he pulled your head back, he forced a kiss onto your lips. He swallowed down your whimpers and noises of protest, a moan escaping him as he tasted the inside of your mouth. With him so close to you, you could feel the muscles and contours of his frame beneath his clothes, and you were forced to recognize your predicament and his strength and what that meant for you.
When you were face to face with him again, his hair was nowhere near as neat as it was when he first walked through your door. His pink lips were swollen and reddened from kissing you and dragging over your skin. Your pajama top had long been discarded, the bottoms long ripped and pulled off of you. Father MayhewâsâCharlieâclerical collar was long gone, his shirt pulled open and hanging off of him.
You recalled the way your mouth had parted into an âOâ shape when the head of his cock finally dipped into you, stretching you with every inch and making your heart momentarily stop. His hand covered a breast, the feel of his ring cooling that singular part of your skin, the rest of you so overheated. His other hand was wrapped around your throat, and you clawed at his hand as he fucked you.
The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in your tiny home, the only sound to rival it being his harsh grunts and your strained voice. Any fight that youâd put up had been quickly squashed down, shown in the harshest manner just how strong your priest was. You hated how good it felt, hated that you didnât want this but was now forced to enjoy it. Nevermind the fact that you hadnât enjoyed sex for the act itself in yearsâŚ
âŚbut of all people to find yourself in this predicament with.
Father Mayhewâs hands never stayed in one place for long. He seemed determined to touch every part of you he could get his hands on, lips tasting the saltiness of your skin. Sweat clung to your frame and his, his fingers sliding over you as he kneaded your thighs and your waist and your chest. Every time you reminded yourself how wrong this was, heâd push his cock into you to the hilt, and youâd involuntarily throw your head back.
You could feel your crucifix pressing into your skin, and your eyes watered.
âI must admit that I wasâamâjealous,â he dragged out, voice hoarse and throaty and wholly unlike how you were used to hearing him. âYour devotion to God inspires an envy within me that I never knew existed.â
You took note of the scars on his back underneath your fingers.
â...a desire to have you completely devoted to me,â he bit out, covering your lips with his own. âYou so desperately desire forgiveness and acceptanceâŚand all the things you didnât think you were worthy of having.â
He harshly thrust into you, making you gasp.
â...and I can give that to you,â he whispered into the kiss.
The power behind his thrusts had you scratching at both his back and the floor, eyes squeezing shut at the way his fingers dug into your skin. It was like he was both holding you to him and trying to prevent you from ever walking away. Your chest arched up into his as you gasped, choked whimpers climbing out of your throat with every push of his hips. He growled against your skin as his lips traveled to your neck, the sound almost demonic to your ears.
When you came around himâyour first orgasm in over a yearâyou couldnât swallow down the noise it forced out of you. You could feel blood beneath your nails and a slickness on the inside of your thighs, but all the while Father Mayhew didnât stop.
With one hand pressed against the floor, he pushed himself up to look down at you. His free hand slid up your sweaty frame, coming up to wrap around the crucifix that rested against your skin. He tightened his hold around it, and he pulled on it, forcing you to lift your head and meet him halfway for a kiss.
âI want you just as eager to get on your knees for meâŚâ
#charlie mayhew#father charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew x reader#father Charlie mayhew x reader#nicholas alexander chavez#grotesquerie#nicholas chavez
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Doctor Reid
PART 2 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST
Established Relationship Your boyfriend finally agrees to indulge in your fantasy by playing a very different kind of doctor, but on his own terms.
Content: (18+) 4k, roleplay, lingerie, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, female oral, edging, soft!dom as per usual and him being what you guys like to call âa little shitâ a/n: season 12 Spencer can stay between my thighs all day every day. also, i have no knowledge on any medical terms this is just â¨vibesâ¨
10:34 AM
The box was heavier than youâd expected. It had been weeks since youâd ordered itâweeks of wondering if this would even get here without some awkward explanation. Youâd agonized over every little detail, scrolling through pages of different costumes, wondering which stethoscope looked the most real.
And now it was finally here.
You didnât waste a second. Your fingers worked quickly, ripping through the tape and cardboard until the contents spilled out. A crisp, folded white coat with perfectly pressed lapels and a stethoscope. And it was a real one, with cool metal tubing that felt heavy and authentic in your hand. Everything looked even better than youâd imagined.
You barely took the time to fold back the box flaps before hurrying to the next room, where your boyfriend sat comfortably on the couch, idly thumbing through a book.
âSpencer!â Your voice practically sang in excitement. âItâs here!â
He glanced up and lowered his book. "What's here?"
You grinned, bouncing on your toes as you closed the distance between you. "The doctor is officially in," you declared, holding up the white coat like a trophy, the stethoscope dangling from your other hand.
You watched as realization dawned across his face as he blinked a few times, processing the items in your hands, before letting out a soft, amused huff.
"Wow," he said slowly. "You really went all out."
"Of course I did,â you affirmed, grinning from ear to ear as you held the coat up to his chest, sizing him up as though he were already playing the part. âAnd itâs perfect.â
He leaned back into the couch, trying to put some distance between him and your infectious enthusiasm. âYou know Iâm not much of an actor.â
âBaby,â you drawled out, emphasizing the pet name with that affectionate tone you knew worked like a charm on him. It was the same sweet voice you used when you wanted something, the kind that could coax just about anything from him. âYouâre not trying to win the Oscars, itâs sex. I promise youâll like it.â
He shook his head like he was the most put-upon boyfriend in the world, letting out a mock sigh of exasperation, though the faint smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him. He closed his book and set it aside.
âFine, Iâll do it,â he said at last, dragging the word out as though it physically pained him to say it. âIf we do this on my own terms.â
âYour own terms? Whatâs that supposed to mean?â
âYouâll see. And,â he reached out, pinching the collar of the coat between his fingers. âIâm not wearing that.â
You pouted. âWhat, you donât want to look like a real doctor?â
âI think I can pull it off without the costume.â He flashed you a smile. âIâm technically still a doctor.â
âYeah, yeah,â you teased, rolling your eyes. âYour multiple doctorates donât exactly qualify you for this, Doctor Reid.â
âI thought having six degrees would be enough for anything.â
âToo bad none of them is needed now,â you shot back, poking a finger at his chest playfully. âThe role Iâm thinking of requires a different kind of expertise. MoreâŚâ You paused, pretending to mull it over, âHands-on. Less theoretical.â
The laugh he let out was short and incredulous, his eyebrows raising as if he couldnât believe your persistence. âYouâre never going to let this go, are you?â
You sighed dramatically. âBabyyyy.â
âYou know, one of these days that tone isnât going to work on me.â
âOh, please, you love it,â you taunted, leaning in closer. âAnd donât act like youâre not curious about this.â
His eyes narrowed slightly, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons, debating just how far heâd let you push him. And then there it was, that spark in his eyes. Faint but undeniableâthe one that told you he was already half convinced, even if he pretended otherwise.
âAlright, fine,â he finally conceded. âIâll play along.â
The grin you wore was at least a mile wide as you shoved the stethoscope into his hand.
1:52 PM
âOkay. Iâm ready.â
Spencer looked up from his stack of papers, and as soon as he saw you standing there, dressed in nothing but lacy lingerie that clung to every curve, his mouth fell open. He blinked, trying to process the sight. Because yes, while you looked incredibly sexy, he was still baffled.
âSince when does a patient wear... that?"
You stepped closer, letting his eyes follow your every move as you shrugged with a hint of feigned innocence in your smile. "Well, I thought I'd save you some time, you know? Make it easier for your examination."
"Mm-hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his desk. "I'm not so sure this is standard procedure. I think you might be bending the rules here."
"Maybe. But I'm sure Doctor Reid can make a special exception, right?â
You shifted slightly, arching your back just enough to draw his attention. His eyes dropped to your chest, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way your nipples strained against the sheer, barely-there fabric of your lingerie. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.
âOf course,â he finally replied. âI think I can be persuaded.â
With that, he leaned forward, sweeping his documents to the side in one smooth motion, before patting the now-cleared space on the desk in front of him.
âTake a seat, Miss,â he said, his voice turning low and authoritative that lit a spark of excitement inside you. âLetâs get started.â
You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a grin as the cool wood of the desk pressed against the backs of your thighs. You watched Spencer stand up and slip between your legs, his hands finding your knees and spreading them just enough to close the distance until the heat of his body was flushed against yours.
âSo, tell me,â he started, his voice lowering as he fell into the role. âWhat seems to be the problem today?â
A flutter of nerves danced in your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware of what was happening. Youâd initiated thisâhad begged for it, evenâbut it was something entirely different now that Spencer was towering over you. The confidence youâd felt earlier wavered for just a moment as his palms ran slowly up your thighs.
âI, uh,â your voice faltering slightly as his hands continued their slow journey. âI⌠I havenât been feeling well.â
His fingers brushed lightly against the frills of your lingerie, teasing the lace between his fingers as he maintained eye contact. âAny symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?â
You nodded, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb traced small circles over the fabric. âAll of the above.â
âI see.â His eyes flickered down to your lips. âCan you open your mouth for me?â
Slowly, you parted your lips, and the moment you did, Spencerâs hand came up to your chin. He tilted your head back gently, exposing the graceful line of your throat.
âIâm going to run a few tests now.â He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. âIt might feel intense, but I need you to stay relaxed and follow my instructions. Can you do that, Miss?â
You nodded as best as you could, mouth still open, and he gave you a small, approving smile.
âStick your tongue out for me, just a little bit.â
You followed his instructions, extending your tongue just far enough to meet his touch. His eyes gleamed with focus as he brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing it lightly against your tongue.
âHm,â he hummed, his eyes still fixed on your mouth like he was about to make a serious diagnosis. âI think I might be starting to see the problem here. But I need to check one more thing. Can you close your mouth around my finger?â
You complied, your lips wrapping around his thumb, feeling the rough pad of it pressing down on your tongue.
âGood,â he sighed, the approval in his voice like a reward in itself. âNow try giving it a gentle suck.â
You could feel the tension rising in you. Your cheeks hollowed as you did what he asked, and you couldnât help but think back to the hesitation in his voice earlier, the way heâd claimed he wasnât sure about this, that he wasnât good at playing roles. You wouldâve laughed if your mouth wasnât occupied.
But you were an obedient patient, after all. You started sucking lightly, feeling the weight of his thumb resting against your tongue. There was something undeniably arousing about how he watched you, eyes heavy with focus, and that steady weight of his finger as he pretended to assess your reaction.
The first rush of arousal made itself known between your legs. You gradually increased the pressure, and before you knew it, you were bobbing your head. But just as you fell into a steady rhythm, his hand tightened on your chin to stop you.
âJust as I suspected,â he murmured after a moment, pulling his thumb away slightly to speak. âYouâre suffering from an acute sensitivity.â
You swallowed, eyes wide as you played along, trying to keep your composure despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. âIs⌠is that serious?â
âIâll need to do a further examination to understand the extent of your condition,â he mused, his eyes flickering between your face and your body as if assessing you before he straightened up slightly. âLetâs check your vitals now.â
He reached behind you, fingers brushing your lower back as he grabbed the stethoscope that had been sitting on the desk all day, the one youâd practically begged him to use. His expression turned serious, as though he were truly diagnosing you, and he leaned in close, pressing the flat side of the stethoscope against the pulse point on your neck.
âDeep breaths,â he instructed softly. You inhaled sharply, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest as the cool metal made contact with your skin. âYour heart rate is definitely elevated.â
He moved the stethoscope lower, brushing it along your collarbone, before pressing it just above your heart. You felt the thump, thump, thump of your pulse echo through the metal.
âDefinitely fast,â he noted. âWe might need to find out whatâs causing such a reaction.â
And before you could respond, without warning, he moved the stethoscope lower, pressing the cold metal against your nipple. You let out a soft, involuntary moan as the sensation caught you off guard.
âAh,â he muttered, tilting his head as if he were genuinely analyzing your response, his thumb grazing the lace-covered peak around the stethoscope. âI think weâve found one of the pressure points.â
You watched as his fingers trailed up to the edge of your lingerie, dragging his knuckles along the lace before he tugged the fabric down, letting your breast spill free. Without a word, he pressed the stethoscope directly against your bare nipple. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back arching as a quiet whimper slipped from your lips, and your nipple hardened instantly under the cold metal.
âHeightened sensitivity to stimuli.â He moved the stethoscope in small circles. âVery, very responsive.â
His eyes flickered down as he used his free hand to tug down the other side of your lingerie, exposing your other breast. You tried to keep your cool, tried to pretend like his touch wasnât turning you inside out, but it was getting harder by the second. And God, he knew it. The way he played with your other nipple, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger like he had all the time in the world, was enough to make your thoughts scatter.
You tried so hard to keep your composure, but then he gently pinched and tugged on your sensitive nub, and a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. With a satisfied grin, he pulled away.
You blinked, momentarily dazed. âWhatâ?â you breathed out. âWhy did you stop?â
âMedical procedure,â he said simply, his tone so casual it almost made you forget the heat of his touch moments earlier. âItâs important to give the patient time to stabilize.â
You shot him a bewildered, almost exasperated look that said are you serious right now? But he just smiled that slow, self-assured smile of his. He was clearly enjoying this far too much.
âWeâre doing this my way, remember?â
You huffed in mock annoyance. âReally? Thatâs how weâre playing this?â
He brushed his lips on your shoulder. âThatâs how weâre playing."
5:22 PM
âDoctor Reid?â
Spencer glanced up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow, casually stirring a hefty amount of sugar, the spoon clinking softly against the mug. âHmm?â
The coolness of the counter pressed against your back as you watched him. âI think itâs getting worse.â
He didnât say anything right away, just let his gaze rake over you, taking note of the way the thin fabric of your lingerie clung to your skin.
âWorse, how?â he finally asked, setting his mug down.
âItâs⌠spreading.â
âSpreading?â He mused. âWhere, exactly?â
âEverywhere.â Your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your lingerie, lifting it just enough to show a glimpse of bare skin beneath. âI really need your help, Doctor.â
His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sliver of skin you revealed. You watched as the realization flashed across his face. The corner of his mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a satisfied smirk, and you knew then that heâd taken the baitâhe had to confirm just how bare you really were.
âCome here,â he ordered softly. He stepped back from the counter just enough to make space. âIf itâs spreading, I have to conduct a full-body assessment.â
You slowly made your way to him with shaky legs.
âUp,â he instructed, giving the counter a gentle pat before letting his hands settle on your hips. âSit.â
The cool marble touched the backs of your thighs as you hoisted yourself up. Then, without warning, Spencerâs hands were on your legs. He grabbed your calves, and before you could even catch your breath, he maneuvered your knees apart, placing the palms of your feet flat onto the countertop.
His eyes dropped between your legs, and the sight of you completely bare, your pussy lips glistening under the dim light, confirmed what heâd suspected. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he took in every detail, the way you were flushed, open, and dripping.
âIs there a reason,â he began slowly, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft, detached tone. âWhy youâre not wearing anything underneath?â
âI⌠I thought it might make the examination easier.â
He smiled. âHow considerate.â
Then with painstaking slowness, Spencer used both thumbs to part your folds, spreading you open completely to his gaze. It was almost clinical, the way he did it, as if he were studying you like some fascinating experiment. And it was working. You could feel the heat of embarrassment rushing in your veins. God, he had you spread open like this in your kitchen counter, and all you could think was how absolutely shameless this was.
He took his time, of course. Because why wouldnât he? Spencer Reid didnât rush experiments. No, he would spend all the time in the world analyzing, learning, committing every detail to memory. And right now, that focus was on you. He dragged his fingertips through your arousal, spreading it leisurely over your folds like he was testing its consistency, as if that slick heat was something he could measure and quantify.
And all you could do was hold your breath.
âI have to say,â he started again, his voice low and taunting as his fingers slid back and forth slowly, grazing just over your entrance without actually dipping inside. âYouâre overly lubricated. Are you always like this?â
You exhaled a long breath, trying to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart. âY-Yes.â
Spencer's smile deepened, his gaze never leaving your face as he pressed just a bit harder, testing your reaction. âInteresting. Do you get this wet from just a little touch, or does it have to be⌠more?â
âJ-Just a little,â you admitted, hips instinctively shifting toward his fingers.
âMmm,â he hummed approvingly, and finallyâfinallyâhe let his finger slide just inside your entrance, only to stop right there, buried to the first knuckle. He didnât move any further. âIs that all it takes? Or do you need more to truly feel the effects?â
âI...â You let out a whimper when his finger twitched inside you. "M-More."
âAnd how much more, exactly? One finger? Two?â
âTwo,â you gasped, every coherent thought slipping away under his touch. âTwo⌠Doctor.â
A satisfied smile tugged at his lips, and without another word, he obliged, slipping a second finger inside you. The stretch made you bite back a moan as you felt every inch of him dragging against your inner walls. You couldnât help the way your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, pulling him deeper as your slick arousal coated every thrust.
âYouâre even more responsive than I thought,â he noted, adjusting his angle to brush against that sensitive spot inside you. âYour partner must enjoy this⌠a lot.â
He was playing his role all too well. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as his speed picked up. "He... He does," you breathed out. "Heâhe loves it."
Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he said softly, almost as if to himself. "Because this is a very special condition that requires a great deal of attention. And I'm sure that you need all the attention you can get, don't you?"
âYes,â you sighed, nodding frantically as the pleasure built in steady waves. âI⌠I need it.â
"I thought so. Patients with your symptoms typically respond very well to intensive treatment."
With that, his fingers began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. The sensation of his long fingers stretching you had you moaning as you felt every drag, every inch while he continued to work you open. And just when you thought it couldnât get any more intense, he pressed a thumb firmly against your clit.
âOh, fuck.â
He circled your swollen nub in slow, delicious patterns, and your body clenched around his fingers. This was it. You could feel it. The way your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat pooling deep in your core, every sensation building higher and higher. You could feel that sweet, sweet edge approaching, so close you could practically taste itâ
And then he stopped.
Everything. Stopped.
âSpencer!â
He didnât flinch, didnât rush to soothe the ache in your body. He simply slid his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing.
âOpen your mouth.â
You parted your lips, and he slipped his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself. The mix of your own slick and the heat of his skin made you moan softly, your tongue swirling around his fingers
âYou see, you can be very responsive,â he commented in a low, measured tone. âBut I think we should take a break, rushing the treatment would only compromise the results.â
He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, like he wasnât purposefully doing this to drive you insane. You wanted to laugh, and you did. But it was a defeated, breathless sort of laugh around his fingers, because you knew the man settled between your thighs still held all the power over you.
08:56 PM
âBabe?â
He laughed softly, not even glancing up from the book he was reading. âNo more Doctor?â
You ignored the amusement in his voice as you walked up to the bed where he lay sprawled out, so casually composed, flipping another page like he hadnât spent the entire day driving you mad. You reached the edge of the mattress, shadow casting over him, and his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.
âI wanna cum.â
Spencerâs smile widened, the kind that made your stomach flip with both excitement and irritation, and he placed the book down beside him. His hand reached out lazily to brush your thigh.
âYeah?â he drawled, tilting his head to the side. âDoes my sweet girl want to be taken care of?â
You nodded eagerly. âPlease.â
âWell, I do like it when you ask nicely,â he muttered, one hand sliding up to grip your waist. âAnd youâve been very patient all day.â
âI have.â
âI think you deserve it.â
âI do.â
He let out an amused laugh. âAlright, lay down on the bed.â
You didnât hesitate. You quickly shifted, lying back against the pillows. Spencerâs hands were on you immediately, gripping your thighs and dragging you toward the edge of the mattress. The room spun for a moment when he settled onto his knees. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers squeezing your calf as he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
âComfortable?â
You nodded, and just as the breath left your lungs, his fingers brushed against the slick, wet folds of your pussy. He traced the outline of your lips gently, gathering the moisture that had been building all day.
âPoor baby,â he cooed sympathetically, his breath ghosting over your wetness. And just when you thought you couldnât take another moment of teasing, he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit.
A desperate whine escaped your lips. âPleaseâŚâ
Spencer didnât miss a beat. He licked another long, languid strip to your clit, swirling his tongue around it before flattening it again, dragging slowly just to savor the way you trembled beneath him. One of his hands gripped your thigh firmly, keeping your leg steady over his shoulder, while the other slid underneath, lifting your hips closer to his mouth.
And when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck, a choked moan tore from your throat.
âSpencer,â you whimpered. âOh godâŚâ
The vibration of his low groan reverberated through you. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open and pinned beneath him. You werenât sure what was more overwhelming. The sensation of his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit or the wet, obscene sounds of him slurping against your soaked folds. Either way, it was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where everything blurred and all you could do was feel.
And then his tongue shifted, dipping lower to probe your entrance. He pushed inside, exploring, seeking, like he was determined to reach every possible inch of you. And damn it, it felt like he could. Each thrust and twist of his tongue sent a surge of delicious heat through your body, and you couldnât help the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders, squeezing him tighter.
You could barely breathe as the tension coiled tighter, so fucking tight you thought you might snap. And he knew itâhe could feel it, the way your walls clenched around his tongue, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders. And still, he didnât let up, thrusting his tongue into you deeper, faster, while his nose rubbed insistently against your clit.
He kept going, over and over, tasting you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. It was too much and yet not enough, and soon you couldnât stop the desperate chant of his name spilling from your lips. You werenât even sure what you were pleading for anymoreâmore? mercy?âall you knew was that you on the brink of falling apart.
One last stroke was enough to shatter you completely.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came, but with the way he was working you over, you didnât stand a chance. The moment you felt yourself tip over, everything brokeâyour body tensed, your back arched sharply off the bed, and a loud moan tore from your lips. It was like your body had a mind of its own, hips grinding desperately against his mouth as if seeking every last bit of friction you could steal.
And when you finally came down, you were a breathless, panting mess. Spencer gave your clit one final, teasing suck, before he pulled back. He crawled up your body, hands sliding up your sides to push your lingerie higher. Gentle, warm kisses tickled your stomach as he threw you a smug look that only he could pull off.
âHow was that,â he murmured, pausing to kiss just beneath your ribs. âFor your little fantasy?â
Mind-blowing. Intense. Better than I imagined.
âWell,â you managed to say, fingers tangling into his hair. âIf thatâs how you plan on treating me, Doctor, I might just have to get sick more often.â
Spencerâs lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin, and he nipped gently at your side.
âI think itâs best for you to do a regular check-up, then,â he teased, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he crawled further up, settling his body over yours. âDoctorâs orders.â
You couldnât stop the soft, breathless laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth.
Youâd be more than happy to comply.
#kinktober 2024#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid fanfiction
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SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.
đ˛ ࣪ââĄđ â synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but itâs gonna cost you.
đ˛ ࣪ââĄđ â cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references⌠a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuutaâs rich and unsettling. mdni <3
đ˛ ࣪ââĄđ â word count. 5.3k
đ˛ ࣪ââĄđ â dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, hereâs to a new year and a new fic! yuutaâs been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , itâll fill me with joy. thank u âĄ
youâre a pornstar.
albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.
the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.
it mustâve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps youâve been yearning for. how cruel.
in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldnât seem to make ends meet.
you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now itâd be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.
fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.
âstars needed â will pay upfront.â
it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever â yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and todayâs horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.
there were no reasons as to why you couldnât be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?
hm, thatâs funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.
must be one of yuujiâs friends.
itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time youâd spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldnât be replaced by anyone.
itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were âso insanely talentedâ and that youâd definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere âjust meet him, youâll see.â
from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuujiâs whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-senseiâs lecture.
he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.
it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, heâd grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy â what could he possibly need a âstarâ for?
shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.
within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.
if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.
a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.
where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled âcoming!â chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.
with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.
âyouâre actually here. hi,â
upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldnât miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if heâd forgone weeks of sleep.
yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.
âhi,â your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. âcome in, please,â yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling â he truly didnât mean to stare. youâre just a lot prettier up close. âi was just getting set up. you can have a seat if youâd like.â
as youâd expect from any guy your age, his place wasnât much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.
you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.
he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. âare you nervous?â his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.
you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. ân-not really, i donât think.â
his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasnât a time so far that you hadnât noticed him without his signature smile. âhere, let me help with that,â reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.
your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.
[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]
before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,
âi hope i got the right information, wouldnât want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.â the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.
he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.
âiâve barely done anything yet.â a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldnât possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.
âand youâve done it so perfectly,â his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. âthank you, yuuta.â
you wouldâve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.
âno, thank you.â his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. âwould you like to start now?â
he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.
you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. âhow old are you?â was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.
he couldnât have been married, no?
keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, âtwenty-something.â he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.
âand whatâs your major?â
with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, âyouâre very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?â
as much as it shouldâve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera â and yuutaâs watchful eye.
he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if heâd get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. âare you a virgin?â he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.
from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..
yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldnât find it within yourself to lie.
âi am,â out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if itâd create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. âis that okay?â
yuutaâs being only grew warmer at the response, you figured heâd be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldnât know. âyeah, thatâs okay,â it came out breathier than he wouldâve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. âthatâs more than okay.â
truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him â fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and heâd be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldnât let you go.
you were on to make a breathtaking star.
now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuutaâs hand. you hadnât noticed how long heâd been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.
you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to hisâŚ
heâs so fucking hard.
confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like youâd expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.
âyuuta.â you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.
âdo you wanna,â he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if youâd casted a spell on him. âdo you maybe want toââ he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. ââput it in your mouth?â
he couldâve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.
âbut iâve neverââ
he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.
âitâs okay. iâll guide you,â taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. âjust try your best for me, okay?â
âokay.â when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.
for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.
the tip? flushed the prettiest pink youâd ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew youâd have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.
âcan i..?â your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos youâd seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuutaâs dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.
your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.
âsuck it,â it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. âplease?â
you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what heâs been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he wouldâve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. youâre beautiful. truly, to die for.
caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.
at the bliss, yuutaâs lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. âyou- youâre already doing, so good.â he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldnât stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, youâd been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable â what heâs beginning to love most about you.
your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that youâd pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which youâre sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls werenât enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.
âsorry, âm sorry,â he began, with a choked moan. âjust- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?â
the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you wouldâve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.
simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldnât dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.
as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess â and yuuta did too.
it wasnât long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. âbaby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.â what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. âi donât wanna cum in your mouth but if youâ,â
a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like youâd be warned of before. yuuta wasnât bitter, he went down easy.
hell, youâd use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.
in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.
âcan i see?â
you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princessâs hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. âyouâre just as sweet as i imagined.â he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.
âdo you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?â you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. âyouâre my first, actually.â yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.
you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. âcan you be my first?â
âiâd love to be,â he took your request with unadulterated honor as if heâd been tasked by the deities above to serve you. âjust- just lay back for me. i promise iâll take good care of you.â
and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.
he couldnât deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.
what youâd come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone elseâs head, had been taken into account. itâs probably why heâs immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body â the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldnât call himself a true cameraman then.
his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if itâd been waiting for his touch for years now. ây-yuuta, âm still sensitive.â you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that heâd found it difficult to even curl his fingers.
his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty youâd sound moaning it. he wouldnât mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.
yuuta okkotsu was in love.
after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.
âiâm gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.â
he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. âmhm.â
how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible heâd feel if he took your indication the wrong way. âcan you be vocal for me, please?â
you nodded your head. âiâll let you know, yuuta.â
with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.
he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.
âwaitââ you huffed wantonly. âââs too big.â
his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuutaâs case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. âshould i stop?â
you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. âno,â you moved your hand from his abdomen. âdonât stop.â
one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.
he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. âiâm all in!â
creepy.
there was no doubt that you hadnât felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. âsorry, so sorry.â he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if youâd been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.
his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man thatâd been simply smitten.
the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if heâd known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.
youâd grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl heâs ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.
âat least take me on a date first, yuuta..â the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. heâll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.
when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldnât keep your sounds at bay. ââm so close, g-gonna cum!â you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.
âi love you, i love you,â his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. âlove you, love you so much.â
intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect â yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.
quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that youâve experienced before, coating yuutaâs cock in the glorious essence of you. âcumming!â you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasnât wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.
it wasnât long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.
âgod, i love you.â he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. âwe only just met.â
he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. âhave we?â
âwe have.â you nodded.
to yuuta, heâs known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasnât the case.
once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldnât share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.
he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper heâd gotten, if that were even possible. âyou were amazing,â he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. âiâm so grateful you came to me.â the smile you returned matched his own, âthank you, you were- really good too.â
he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. âreally?â and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. âyou know,â he started. âiâm very interested in you.â
you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. âinterested, how?â
the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.
âmay i take you on a date?â
#đ¨đľđŽđŹđłđŠđšđ¨đť đžđšđ°đťđŹđş âjujutsu kaisen.#jjk smut#yuuta smut#yuta smut#yuuta okkotsu smut#yuuta x reader#jjk x reader#yuta x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta x y/n#yuuta x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#yuuta okkotsu#yuta okkotsu#yuuta x you#jjk#yuta okkotsu smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen yuuta#yuuta jujutsu kaisen#jjk yuuta
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Surprise
Ghosting pt. 1
Simon âGhostâ Riley x Fem! Reader
Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when heâs 25 and youâre 23.
Part 2 here
âkids?â
âWhat about them?â
âWould you ever want any?â
It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You donât know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. Thatâs when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.
âNo. Hard pass. I donât do well with them nor do I want any of my own.â He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didnât bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.
âYeah Iâm not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.â You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldnât mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you donât mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when heâs deployed to his job. Thereâs also days where you fear heâll never come back home and youâd be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simonsâ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.
As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. Itâll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and itâll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.
Hopefully, if he doesnât die on the jobâŚ
âItâll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.â
Thatâs how youâd thought it be. Until it wasnât.
You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested youâd go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said youâd be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. Thatâs when the thoughts hit you. You couldnât be right? Thereâs no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.
That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you donât. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe itâs best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.
You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesnât want a baby, but youâre pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons babyâŚ
Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?
Simon was out drinking with his âcomradesâ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when youâd tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD shouldâve prevented this from happening.
You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since youâve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasnât the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.
Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesnât want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he canât be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isnât around for long periods at a time.
As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, heâs a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didnât outright admit it.
âHowâd it go?â You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. Youâre too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simonâs suspicions of your worry confirmed.
âIt was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.â He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like heâs trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. âThereâs something bothering you, I can see it. You know you canât hide things from me and I understand you donât wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.â
Your throat grew dry, âShit.â You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. âYnâŚâ He called out but you stood silent.
âItâs now or never, i canât hide this forever, not when I start to show.â You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. âWhatâs wrong?â
âIâm sorryâŚâ You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. âFor what? What happened love?â He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. âYou promise you wonât be mad, Iâm scared youâre gonna hate me, leave me andâŚâ You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. âI wonât.â He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.
Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. âIâm pregnantâŚâ it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD shouldâve been working, but he canât blame you, thereâs still a small chance.
âHave you made an appointment?â He asked after a long silence.
âFor what?â You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, itâs too late youâve already made up your mind.
âTo get rid of it.â He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didnât even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.
You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. âSimonâŚâ You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and heâd run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.
His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. âNo.â He shook his head as you sobbed. âDammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!â He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesnât want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.
âIâm sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didnât mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldnât bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I canât bring myself to get rid of our baby.â
âNo we agreed that weâd have no kids, for Christ sake, Iâm always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And Iâm not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.â He didnât yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. âI canât do this.â He didnât sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.
Your breath hitched. âWhat do you mean?â Your voice quivered. Ghost didnât even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. âSimon please!â You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.
You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.
It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items heâd need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. âYouâre right,â you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. âYou donât have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. Iâll keep the baby without you.â Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldnât see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. âI wonât make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You wonât hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. Iâll be gone, unless you say something Simon...â you stand there staring at him hoping heâll say something⌠anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know itâll never come. Heâs Simon, Ghost, heâs not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesnât spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.
After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.
You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother sheâd always compared one over the other, âYour sister is skinner than you,â âYou eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,â âyour sister thisâ or âyour sister thatâ. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.
Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.
âAre you alright?â She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. âIâm sorry!â You cried out. âItâs okay.â She hushes you and cradled your head. âNo itâs not, I shouldâve talked to you, we shouldâve made up long ago but I ran offâŚâ
âAnd so did I!â She cut you off. âI was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that weâre here, letâs take this chance to make it right.â She wiped your tears from your face. âNow tell me what wrong?â She asks you as you take a deep breath. âSimon left me.â You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. âWell technically I left but we decided that we were through.â
âWhy, what happened?â She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.
âIâm pregnant.â You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesnât speak and allows you to continue. âI found out not too long ago.â
You sister looks at you in shock. âIs that why⌠SimonâŚâ she tries to ask, you know what sheâs saying before you nod answering her question.
âYeah, weâve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didnât want any, me, I wasnât too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.â You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. âI donât know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because heâs currently on deployment but heâs made his choice not to be in the babyâs life. I gave him the choice to leave because I donât want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.â You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.
âHeâs in the military?â She asks him a bit surprised, sheâs still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.
You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. Youâve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about whereâd you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. âYeah, he doesnât tell me much about it. But from what Iâve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. Heâd come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when heâll be back, or if heâll come back at all.â You explain to her. You leave out the part where heâd be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.
Stacy looks at you, sheâs processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell thatâs itâs a lot for her to take in. You donât blame her, you two havenât seen each other er for over five years, so thereâs a lot of catching up to do. âI promise you Iâll only be here for a few months. Iâll find a place to stay for the baby and I before theyâre born, weâll be out of your hair soon.â You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that itâs only temporary and youâre not going to take advantage of your sisterâs kindness and willing to help you out, you donât wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. Youâve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.
Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. âDonât worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. Youâre a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you donât, Iâll always be here to help you.â She says as she smiles at you fondly.
You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. Youâre on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. âThanks Stac.â You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.
Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. âDonât thank me, youâre my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.â
ę§ââââââââââę§
Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)
#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#cod mw2 ghost x reader#mw2 ghost x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod mwii x reader#cod mw2 x reader#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#ghost cod
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could we get Spencer Reid with a hypersexual reader that uses sex as a bad coping mechanism? đđ
don't look in the mirror | S.R.
seeking comfort in those you hold close, except there's a right way and a wrong way to do it
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (i think?) w/ mature themes (18+ mdni) content warnings: seeking comfort in sex, avoidance, mental health issues, spencer has those info dumps on lock, shame, self deprecation, reader hates her job (me too), blood as a metaphor, crying word count: 1.85k a/n: this is such an important topic and i'm so thankful for you asking me to write this!!!! i know this is a premise i've seen before, so i tried to make mine different. (im actually really proud of how this one turned out)
âBaby,â Spencer whispered in your ear, turning his head to the side as you left small, slow kisses on the exposed skin of his neck.
You hummed but refused to detach your lips from his soft skin, tugging gently at his shirt so that you could make your way down to his collarbone. He smelled like sunshine and the jet, an admittedly odd combo that did nothing to stop your movements down the column of his throat. His neck vibrated with sound, but none of his words registered, it all went in one ear and out the other.
His hand gently settled on the small of your back and you took a deep breath before you began pulling at the knot of his tie, âY/N,â he muttered in a warning.
Your head snapped up at his tone, disappointed that you didnât find the same want in his eyes that you knew was blazing in your own irises. Synapses in your brain were firing at lightning speed, and your heart was beating so quickly that it was like it was trying to keep up. âI missed you,â you whispered to him, allowing your eyes to flitter across his face.
Spencer settled his hands on your hips, firmly grabbing them in exactly the way you wanted, but instead of pulling you closer to him, he stilled their rotation.
Your heart stuttered.
âWhat happened?â He asked you tentatively, using the pads of his thumbs to rub soothing circles on your hips, trying to keep you from moving while giving you comfort. Despite the way you were sitting in his lap, Spencer still felt worlds away from you â if he was on Earth, you were in a different galaxy.Â
Hesitantly, your lips parted, and you took a deep breath before shutting your mouth again, deciding you had nothing to say. While heâd been away, nothing significant had happened, everything in your life had trudged on exactly the way it always did. You went to work at the same job youâve had since you got out of college with a boss who most certainly had it out for you, and you came home to an empty apartment with your phone volume all the way up, waiting for your boyfriend to call you. You really were pathetic, but you didnât voice those concerns, instead, you answered, âNothing happened,â the half-truth easily slid from your mouth. âCanât I just have missed my boyfriend and want to spend quality time with him?â
Spencer hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head back as his hair moved with him, âStop, Y/N,â he said.
Without even realizing it, your hands had drifted down to his chest, and your hands were absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, âI didnâtâŚâ you started to say, but your words faltered when you noticed the way he was looking at you. You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the rest of the world was still there as you tried to climb off of Spencerâs lap. âLet me go,â you insisted, hating how small your voice sounded as you pushed against him to no avail.
âI canât let you go, not right now,â he told you, steadying his resolve as he watched you. You were staring at your hands like they were covered in blood, red-covered palms as you watched, horrified at the idea of them developing a mind of their own. It wasnât as if your hands had suddenly become sentient entities, your heart and your brain were working against each other, fighting a silent, internal war. âPick a spot for your hands, and just leave them there,â he whispered to you.
Your hands tremored as you settled them on either one of Spencerâs shoulders, âYou donât find me attractive anymore,â you mumbled, struggling to find the strength to enunciate your thoughts.
Spencer sighed, âWhy donât we take a minute, okay?â Delicately, he moved one hand from its station on your hip and moved it to cup your cheek, holding your face as if it were made of fine china. âWhat happened while I was gone, honey?â
His hand was wet on your face, or rather, your face was wet from tears that had started to trickle from your tear ducts. You furrowed your brows in frustration, âWhy do you assume that something happened? Nothing happened while you were gone, why canât you just let that be the answer?â
âBecause itâs not the answer,â he insisted, dropping his hand back to your hip, continuing to stop you from getting up and moving away from him.
You scoffed, âIs it not the answer, or is it just not the answer youâre looking for, Spencer?â
âItâs not the answer, and Iâm looking for the answer. You can tell me anything,â he urged, resuming his soothing movements over your hip.
As you watched his expression morph into a slight panic, you realized he was beginning to think something happened to you. With what he did for work, it was always in the back of his mind, you being in danger of being hurt by other people but what he rarely considered was the idea of you being a danger to yourself. âNothing happened, okay? Absolutely nothing happened to me while you were gone and everything in the world stayed exactly the fucking same. I went to work every day and I came home and sat around while I waited for you to call, I waited for you to come home and now you wonât even touch me.â
Your tears kept coming, leaving saline stains on his gray shirt as your head spun and his movements stopped. âWork was bad?â He asked softly, using his fingertips to wipe beneath your eyes. He knew about your issues at work, he had been encouraging you to leave the job for months, but you were convinced that a promotion was coming. âYou shouldn't have to be miserable every time you go to work.â
âNot everyone gets to be hand-picked for a top job at twenty-one. Some people have to work shitty jobs to make ends meet,â you snapped at him, nostrils flaring angrily.
He didnât answer right away, you became hyperaware of the pounding of your heart as you waited for his response. As you waited for him to kick you out. âI told you that Iâd support you if you wanted to go back to school. I meant it, Y/N,â he told you, brown eyes flooded with concern. âYou can leave your job and pursue your dream, thatâs all Iâve ever wanted for you, baby.â Spencer leaned back against the couch cushions, âI canât help you until you help yourself, love.â
Slouching your shoulders, you felt your eyes starting to line with tears again, âIt feels so unfair to have you shoulder more responsibility so that I can go back to school.â
âNo,â he said, âWhatâs not fair is you lying to me and then trying to avoid it with sex. I asked you how your week had been, and you either didnât care to answer me or you have such bad tunnel vision that you didnât even hear me.â He gently chided, giving you time to drown in the blatant concern in his eyes, âand whatâs worse is you never told me it was this bad.â
You averted your eyes, focusing your gaze on the chessboard behind him as you thought about your next move. In one fell swoop, he could checkmate you, completely catch you off guard, and tell you everything that you didnât want to hear. Alternatively, you could sacrifice yourself for his benefit, âI hate my job. My boss is making it impossible for me to make any positive stride, and thatâs on top of him being a misogynistic douche.â You flexed your hands where they remained on Spencerâs shoulders and sighed, âAnd yes, I miss you when youâre gone. Yes, I lied to you about it, but what would you do about it? Leave your big important job because your girlfriend is lonely?â
He craned his head to the side, silently encouraging you to make eye contact with him, âIâd hope that youâd feel comfortable enough to tell me how youâre feeling so that we could work something out â we can talk through this. Itâs a two-way street though, you have to talk to me. I can make an effort to call and text more if you promise me, youâll make an effort to communicate with me.â
Slowly, you started to nod, âI⌠I can do that, but you hate texting,â you reminded him, raising your eyebrows curiously.
âIâll get over it,â he reassured you, studying your features, âYouâre worth it,â he added.
Finally, you pulled your arms back, hugging them around yourself protectively, âIâm sorry,â you murmured, âI donât know why I am⌠the way that I am.â
Spencer took a deep breath before giving you a look that told you he had an inkling, âYouâre unhappy, with me or the world, it doesnât matter, but you think the solution to your displeasure comes in the form of an orgasm and thatâs just not the answer, honey.â
You hiccupped and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself like you could make yourself smaller, âI still donât know why though.â
âYouâre seeking the rush, not necessarily the act of sex itself, you want the dopamine and oxytocin rush that comes with an orgasm. Your brain convinces yourself that itâs what you need because when you get unhappy like this, all you can focus on is how to feel better and fast,â he spoke to you gently â he knew this wasnât what you wanted to hear, but it was what you needed to hear. âItâs brief, and itâs just for that moment, and your brain might even recall how your parasympathetic nervous system shuts down after you come, and your body gets tired. You get a rush of serotonin, and you relax enough to convince yourself that it'll be okay, but you need to find something more permanent. Iâll help you.â
Your arms fell limply at your sides, âDo you think Iâm broken?â
The small smile he gave you was enough of an answer, âNo, in fact, I know youâre not broken.â Tenderly, he reached out and unwound your arms from around your torso, âAnd since I know you wonât stop thinking about it, I do still find you attractive.â Spencer studied your face, âWhere do you want to start?â
âDo you want to help me draft a letter of resignation?â You offered, giving Spencer a shy smile.
He hummed in response, âYeah, in a bit.â Your boyfriend reached his hands out to you, now being the one who pulled you close, âCome here, darling.â
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing as he wrapped his arms around your torso, âI missed you,â you mumbled, entirely deflating your lungs as you let yourself relax.
Spencer reached up, ruffling your hair with one hand and keeping another on the small of your back as he sighed with you, âI missed you too.â
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid hurt/comfort#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds hurt/comfort#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#margot's requests#written by margot#margot after hours
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he drives me crazy, itâs so beyond me 𦹠LN4
PAIRINGS: lando norris x fewtrell!reader
SUMMARY: youâve been hating on lando for a very long time now, since you were kids to be exact. only to realize that those hatred is only a mask for what you truly feel for him.
AUTHORâS NOTE: iâve been on a slump lately, have so many works unfinished but i donât really have the drive to finish them lol but my break from uni is near, so maybe iâll get the motivation to finish all of it. for the meantime, hope youâll enjoy this one! :)
REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 3.3k
WARNINGS: typos, cursing, and playboy lando
Growing up being Maxâs younger sister meant that you were always surrounded by his friends, and none of them irritated you more than Lando Norris. From the very beginning, something about Lando rubbed you off the wrong way. Though you had never understood why, there was somethingâan inexplicable annoyance that only grew stronger with time.
As kids, you tolerated him, well mainly because Max adored him and that they are racing karts together. You canât just tell Max to stay away from Lando for no apparent reason, that would make look like an absolute ass. But as you all grew up, Landoâs behavior began to infuriate you even more, and it just got worse when he got to F1. He began dating girls and moving on as quickly as the seasons changed, never seeming to care about the trail of broken hearts he left behind. It wasnât just his carefree attitude towards relationships or life in general; it was the way he would tease you every fucking chance he gets. If you tripped over a pebble or on air, heâd make a joke about it. Making fun of every little thing that he would notice about you. You just couldnât stand it, and you couldnât stand him and his whole existence.
But somewhere along the line, something strange started to happen. With all the teasing and eye rolls, you found yourself paying a little too much attention to him. Too much for your liking. It was almost as if you were noticing the first time how his aquamarine eyes sparkled everytime he laughed, or how his curly hair seemed to suit him perfectly. It made you madâso fucking mad that you wanted to scream. How could you, of all people, start to like Lando Norris? Your public enemy number one.
Then the realization hit you like a shit ton of bricks. You were developing a massive crush on the one person you were supposed to hate. Surprised by the sudden realization, and you being you, instead of acknowledging it, you decided to bury it deep down, covering it with even more layers of loathing. If he said something stupid, which he always does, youâd snap back at him twice as hard. If he smiled that cocky grin, youâd glare daggers at him. But inside, your heart would be pounding, and it drove you crazy. Itâs pretty much a fucking miracle that you have been able to stay sane.
One day, after a particularly annoying comment from Lando about your choice of outfit, you finally snapped. âYou know, Lando, if I wanted your opinion, Iâd ask for it. But I didnât, so why donât you just keep your mouth shut for once?â Then you rolled his eyes at him. Youâre going out today, you donât need this kind of negativity. âBesides, donât you have your own fucking house? Why are you even here?â
Lando grinned, clearly enjoying how riled up you were. âIâm just saying, those shoes look like something a hobo would wear.â
You groaned in frustration. âGod, youâre such an asshole, Norris! Do you ever stop to think before you speak?â
âWhereâs the fun in that?â He shot back, winking at you.
You felt your cheeks flush, and not from anger. You wanted to punch him, but at the same time, there was this insane urge to grab him by the collar and kiss him just to shut him up. But instead, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the room, muttering under your breath about how he was the most annoying person on the planet.
But then there were those moments when you saw the other side of Lando, the one that made your heart ache in a way you couldnât even fucking explain. Like the time when he won his first race in Miami. The whole crowd erupted in cheers, everyone was celebrating his win and you found yourself smiling as he won his first race, a huge smile on his face as he celebrated. Your first instinct was to run up to him and give him a hug and tell him how proud you were. But then, almost immediately, you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck for making you feel this way. He had a unique talent for pushing all your buttons, and yet, no one could make you feel the way he did.
After the race, you all went out to celebrate, and as usual, Lando couldnât resist teasing you. âCome on, admit it, you were impressed, werenât you?â
You rolled your eyes, but couldnât stop the small smile from tugging at the corners of your lips. âYou were okay, I guess,â you said nonchalantly.
âOkay? Just okay?â Lando feigned hurt, clutching his chest dramatically. âI expected more from my biggest hater.â
âWell, donât expect me to start fangirling over you now,â you shot back, though your heart wasnât really in it.
Lando just playfully winked at you, and excused himself, walking away and waving at someone else. You couldnât help but wonder what it would be like to admit it. To finally confess that maybe the reason why you hated Lando so much was because you love him in a way that no one else could. But you quickly dismissed that thought, shaking your head. There was no way youâd ever let him know how much he affected you. Not when he had the power to break your heart with a single word.
As the night went on, you couldnât help but steal glances at him. He was the center of attention, as always, and yet, for a moment, his eyes caught yours, and he smiled. Not a teasing grin that he would always send your way, but a genuine, warm smile. It made your stomach do flips, and you quickly looked away, mentally cursing yourself for being so weak.
In the middle of the night, you found yourself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the dayâs events in your mind. You hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he made you feel things you didnât want to feel. It was maddening, infuriating, it drives you nuts, and yetâŚyou couldnât stop thinking about him. How was it possible to love and hate someone so much at the same time? You didnât know. You donât have an answer for the lingering questions in your mind and it drove you crazy.
âWhy him?â You whispered to yourself that night, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. âOut of all the fucking people in the world, why does it have to be him?â
You knew Lando could be a major asshole, but somehow, he was your asshole. No one else could make you feel this crazy mix of anger, frustration, and affection all at once, and despite all the annoyance, deep down, you knew you loved him. It made you mad, and yet, in some twisted way, it also made sense. No one else could make your heart race like Lando did, that can make you feel so alive, so frustrated, so utterly confusedâand most importantly, no else could break your heart like Lando Norris, and you were beginning to think that maybe, you didnât want anyone else to.
It has been three months since Landoâs first win, but the tension between the two of you hadnât eased. In fact, it felt like it was growing stronger, pulling you into a confusing spiral of emotions. It was one of those days that you were grateful enough that you were back in uni, and have to forget about him even for a short period of time.
Though it didnât last long, you canât stay and hide in uni forever. So here you were, officially back home for a break, and you decided to stay at Maxâs for the time being. Prior to arriving from uni, Max had already asked you if you wanted to come with them on their holiday trip, but you passed on it, making up some silly excuse and wanting to get the rest you need since you havenât had the proper rest back when you were in uni. You wanted to avoid being in the same place with him as much as possible, you definitely donât trust yourself to keep up the charade of hating him when your heart was screaming the exact opposite.
It was when theyâre already back from their trip, and as usual, Lando is at Maxâs place. You found yourself in exactly in the situation youâd been dreading. Max had invited Lando over to help him with something, and you figured you could just stay in your room, far away from the inevitable teasing from him. But when Max suddenly had to leave to deal with some urgent matter, you were stuck. It was just you and Lando, alone in the living room, with a show neither of you cared about playing in the background.
Lando being Lando, of course he wasted no time in getting into your nerves. âSo, how long are you planning to hide up there?â He asked, his tone annoyingly casual as he sprawled out on the couch.
âI was not hiding,â you retorted, focusing on your phone and pretending he wasnât there.
âSure, youâre not,â he said with a smirk. âYouâve been acting pretty weird lately. You didnât even come to the trip that we invited you on. Is everything alright?â
You nearly choked on your words. How could you even begin to explain what was wrongâthat you were utterly terrified of how much you liked him? That every time he teased you, your heart skipped a beat instead of fuming with anger? That you couldnât fucking stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss him.
âEverythingâs fine,â you lied, hoping he couldnât see the turmoil behind your eyes. God, you just wanted for this conversation to end or better yet, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole right then and there.
âUh-huh,â Lando said, clearly unconvinced. He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. âYouâre a terrible liar, you know that?â
Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. âOh my god, why do you even care?â You shot back defensively. âYouâre just here to annoy me, right? So why donât you just go call someone and bother them instead?â
Landoâs smirk faded slightly, and he studied you with an intensity that made you uncomfortable. âYou think I just want to annoy you?â
âYes!â You exclaimed, frustrated by his persistent questioning. âThatâs what youâve always done ever since, isnât it?â
Lando shook his head, looking more serious than youâd ever seen him. âNo. Not really.â
The shift in his demeanor threw you off balance. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He hesitated, running a hand through his beautiful curly hair that you want to touch so badly. âIt means that maybe I didnât just do it to annoy you. Maybe there was another reason.â
You blinked, your mind racing to keep up. âWhat reason?â
Lando sighed, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. âGod, this is harder than I thought,â he muttered to himself before finally looking at you. âLook, Iâve known you since forever. Yeah, I used to tease you because you were Maxâs younger sister and it was fun. But somewhere along the way, it wasnât just about teasing anymore. I think I did it becauseâŚI didnât know how else to get your attention.â
Your breath caught in your throat. âWhat are you saying, Lando?â
âIâm saying that maybe Iâve had a crush on you for a while now,â he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. âAnd Iâve been acting like an idiot because to be fairly honest, I didnât know how to deal with it.â
You stared at him in utter shock, your brain struggling to process what heâd just said. All this time, you thought your feelings were unrequited, that he was just being his usual annoying self, but now, everything was different. The anger, the frustration, the confusionâit all made sense now.
âIâŚI donât know what to say,â you whispered, still reeling from his confession. âHonestly.â
Lando smiled softly, a hint of nervousness in his expression. âYou donât have to say anything, I just want you to know. I get it if you donât feel the same way, or if youâre too mad at me for being a jerk all these years. But I wanted to be completely honest with you for once.â
The room was silent for a moment, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. âLando, Iââ
But before you could finish, Lando suddenly stood up, crossing the room in a few quick strides. âYou know what? I canât fucking take it anymore.â And with that, he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you, pulling you into a kiss that was both urgent and tender at the same time.
For a split second, you were too shocked to respond. But then, your body seemed to take over, and you found yourself kissing back, all the frustration and anger melting away in the warmth of his embrace. It felt like everything youâd been holding back, all the mixed emotions youâd been burying, finally broke free. When Lando finally pulled back, you were both breathless, staring at each other in stunned silence.
âWhy did you do that?â You asked, your voice shaky.
âBecause Iâve wanting to do it for a long fucking time,â Lando admitted, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. âAnd because I couldnât stand the thought of you hating me for real.â
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. âI donât hate you, Lando. IâŚI think I might be falling for you, and itâs terrifying to tell you honestly.â
Lando grinned, his usual cocky demeanor returning. âWell, thatâs a relief. Because Iâm pretty sure Iâm falling for you too.â
You couldnât help but laugh, the tension between you dissolving into something warmer, something that felt a lot like hope.
âYouâre still an asshole, though.â
âAnd youâre still a pain in the ass,â Lando shot back, his grin widening.
This time, there was no venom behind your words, no hidden frustration like it was used to. Instead, there was a new understanding between youâa mutual acknowledgment that maybe the thing youâd both been fighting against all these years was exactly what you needed. When Lando leaned in to kiss you again, you realized that no one else could make your heart race like he did, and no one else could make you as crazy or as happy.
However, Landoâs confession and that unexpected kiss did leave you feeling more confused as ever. As much as you wanted to believe in the moment, in the warmth of his touch and softness of his lips, a familiar fear gnawed at the back of your mind. After all, this is Lando Norris that youâre talking aboutâthe guy who seemed to switch girlfriends at lightning speed. Youâd seen him charm his way through countless girls, only to move on without any second thought. The idea of being just another name on his list made your chest tighten with fear and anxiety.
As you sat still, still close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, Lando looked at you with a hopeful expression, waiting for you to say something. But instead of responding with the excitement that was bubbling up inside you, all you could think about were the stories, the rumors, and the heartbreaks youâd witnessed.
âLando,â you began, moving away slightly, creating a small but significant distance between you and him on the couch. âI donât know if this is a good idea.â
âWhy not?â His smile faltered, concern creeping into his eyes.
You bit your lip, trying to find the right words that wonât hurt him. âBecauseâŚâ you trailed off, âI know you, Lando. I know your way with girls. Yes, I canât deny the fact that youâre very charming and sweet when you want to be, but the way you get bored and move on quickly scares me. IâŚI donât think I can handle being just another girl you get tired of.â You breathed out.
Landoâs expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand, but you hesitated. He noticed this right away and dropped his hand to his side.
âI get why youâd think that. I havenât exactly been the most reliable guy when it comes to relationships, am I?â You nodded and he chuckled, âbut thisâŚthis is different.â
âIs it?â You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. âOr are you just saying that because Iâm here and itâs convenient?â
Lando shook his head, gaze so intense that you might melt and turn into a puddle any second. âItâs not like that, I promise. I know Iâve messed up before, but Iâve never felt this way about anyone. Youâre not just another girl, and Iâm not just saying that. Iâm really serious about you.â
You wanted to believe him, you really did. But the fear of getting your heart broken, of being left behind like so many others, made it hard to fully trust his words.
âBut what if you get bored? What if this is just a phase for you, and once youâve had your fun, you move on to someone else?â
He looked at you with an earnestness that you werenât used to seeing him. âI canât blame you for being scared. But the truth is, Iâm scared too. Iâm scared because Iâve never wanted someone so much, something to work out this badly. I donât want to mess this up. I know I have a reputation, but I donât want that to be who I am with you. I want to be betterâfor you.â
You stared at him, your heart warring with your head. Could he really mean what he was saying? Was it possible that he could change, that you could be the one he was serious about? But even as the doubts swirled around you, there was a part of you that desperately wanted to take the leap, to believe that maybe this could be different.
âI donât know if I can handle getting hurt,â you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. âI donât know if Iâm strong enough for that.â
Lando took a deep breath, his expression sincere. âI canât promise that Iâll be perfect, but I can promise that Iâll try my best not to hurt you.â He said, tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear, âI care about you too much to let that happen. But if you donât want to take the risk, Iâll understand. Iâll back off if thatâs what you want.â
You could see the honesty in his eyes, the vulnerability he rarely showed. It made your heart ache, knowing that he was giving you the power to decide where this would go. It would be easy to walk away, to protect yourself from the possibility of pain. But then again, what if he was telling the truth, what if this was real.
âNo, I donât want you to back off,â you finally said, your voice steady despite the nerves twisting in your stomach. âBut I need time, Lando. I need to see that youâre serious before I can let myself fall for you completely.â
Lando nodded, relief washing over his face. âIâll give you all the time you need. Iâm not going anywhere.â
You smiled, feeling a bit of the tension ease, though the uncertainty still lingered. âGood. Because Iâm not sure I could handle it if you did.â
As the two of you sat side by side on the couch, the show was still playing in the background, the atmosphere between you had shifted. There was no rush, no need to force anything. It was just the two of you, slowly navigating the complicated mess of emotions that came with falling for someone who scared you as much as they made you feel alive, and maybe that this was the start of something real.
#Spotify#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris 4#ln4#lando norris x female!reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#ln4 x y/n#ln4 one shot#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#ln4 fluff#ln4 x you#fewtrell!reader#lando norris x fewtrell!reader
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omg this is the first time i do this bc i always think i become a burden when i request sthđŤ BUT I PLUCKED MY COURAGE BC I LOVE YOU AND I HAVE A BOMB ASS IDEA BUT MY WRITING CAPABILITIES CANNOT DO IT JUSTICE. Ok so𫢠childhoofriend!/meandom!genshu lin x childhoodfriend!/sub!reader x childhoodfriend!/teasedom!jiyan after the war (lets pretend genshu didnt disappear/get unalived) and they release their pent up emotions by doing the deed and of course reader is more than happy to welcome them. Reader has enough holes for the two as you saidđđ
POOKIEEEE ILYSMđĽšđŤśđź i hope you like this!!!!!
What are Best Friends For?
ă°cw: none
ă°tags: sub fem!reader, mean dom!geshu lin, teasing dom!jiyan, all childhood besties with each other, creampie, unprotected sex, oral m!receiving, double penetration, anal, a lil degradation, throat fucking, a dash of stinky angst in the beginning
ă°nsfw under the cut
ă°m!list here
You always worried for your two best friends considering they were always at each other's throats, always arguing about battle strategies, what was right and wrong, or accusing the other of spending more time with you. You still did your best to act as a mediator or to provide them with whatever type of support they needed, no questions asked.
And right now, they both needed you. More than ever.
áá||áę§áá||áę§áá||áę§áá||áę§áá||áę§
Standing in the middle of battleground, the retroact rain surrounds both of them and all of Geshu Lin's soldiers. If looks could kill, Jiyan would be dead on the spot with the way Geshu Lin glowers at him. Jiyan stands his ground, "This isn't right. There's something wrong with this rain. It would be wise to retreat unless you really want everyone to die here."
Geshu Lin's tongue runs across his teeth before speaking in a biting tone, "Last I checked, you were only a combat medic." He scoffs, speaking again with disdain, "If thousands of my men must die, then so be it. Now shut up and keep moving." Jiyan stands there as the general turns away, barking orders at his soldiers, rage and concern bubbling up inside of him.
They both promised you they would be safe, that they would return home to you unscathed. But with Geshu Lin's bullheaded pride, the chances of coming home to the girl they both loved in their own way seemed unlikely. Jiyan couldn't allow Geshu Lin to go through with this.
"General, listen to me", he calls out. Geshu Lin ignores him at first continuing on until Jiyan's next words make him stop dead in his tracks. "What about y/n...? We made her a promise. Do you truly intend to break it?", Jiyan's voice is sad, almost desperate. Desperate for his arrogant childhood friend to just listen to him for once.
Geshu Lin stands still for a few moments before partially turning back to face Jiyan with narrowed eyes. He can see the sincerity and concern in Jiyan's expression, making something twist inside of his chest. "Put aside your pride, Geshu... Stop this before there is no going back", he pleads with deep resolution.
Geshu Lin grits his teeth, fully turning to look at Jiyan. "I'm doing this because of y/n, not because you personally told me to retreat", he growls out. Relief washes over Jiyan's features, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
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You stand there pacing back and forth by the front window of your house, gnawing at your fingernails, worried as hell for the men you cared for so deeply. Only a few moments later do you hear their voices as they walk up the path towards your home, arguing with each other as usual.
You throw open your front door, running out to meet them with teary eyes and a smile that wobbles as you try not to cry tears of relief, "You're back! I was so worried I-" Jiyan pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, nuzzling his nose into your hair and breathing in your sweet scent.
"No need to worry anymore, I'm here...", he coos softly earning him a harsh glare from Geshu Lin. Geshu Lin pulls you from Jiyan's grasp and into his own embrace. "I'm here too", he speaks through gritted teeth, keeping his golden eyes narrowed at Jiyan who gives him an incredulous look in return.
You breathe out a laugh as Geshu Lin practically squeezes the life out of you, "I'm happy you're both here." You pull back slightly, only able to because Geshu Lin allows you. You look between the two of them with a little smile, "Let's not fight. We're all here together, so let's enjoy this moment." Geshu Lin grumbles and Jiyan gives a hint of a smile.
"Tell me what I can do to make you both happy", you speak, eyes flitting between the two pairs of intense golden eyes as you offer a solution like you always do. Geshu Lin's lips twitch up in a slight smirk which Jiyan catches, releasing a breath as he addresses him, "Be nice, Geshu..." You raise a brow and Geshu Lin's smirk widens as something glimmers in his dangerous gaze, "No promises."
With that, Geshu Lin scoops you up, making you yelp in surprise as he carries you over his shoulder, practically kicking your door down as he enters your home with Jiyan following behind.
Once inside, Geshu Lin sets you down on the bed unceremoniously which makes you laugh out of both surprise and amusement. Jiyan stands by the edge of your bed, watching Geshu Lin's every move, golden eyes flickering between the two of you.
Geshu Lin begins to peel of his clothes piece by piece with a smirk plastered on his fierce but handsome face. His toned muscles ripple in the soft light of your room, pale cock twitching against his abdomen. Jiyan follows suit, stripping off his clothes and tossing them in a pile on the floor.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you take in the sight of your two best friends bared before you. Their bodies are different yet similar, equally captivating and littered with old scars. Jiyan is the first to move, kneeling between your legs as his hands travel up your thighs, "You're going to be a good girl for us, yeah?"
You breathe out a small 'yes', to his words, making the corners of his lips curl up as he stands back up, both men looking down at you with a mix of danger and pleasure in their eyes. "Then strip", Geshu Lin chimes in with a sharp command as he slowly strokes his cock.
Your breath hitches at his command. Sure this wasn't anything new between the three of you, but only ever separately. You never thought you would be pleasing them both at the same time, but you would do absolutely anything for them. You strip off your tank top and bra, nipples hardening as the cool air of your room brushes over them.
Next comes your shorts, fingers fumbling the with button and zipper as you tug them down your legs along with your panties, exposing yourself fully to your friends' hungry grazes. You watch as they exchange a glace, their silent communication passing through them as though they've finally agreed on something for once.
Their eyes linger on your body as if committing every inch of you to memory. They both approach with predatory grace, Geshu Lin stands close to your face and Jiyan stands in front of your spread legs. Geshu Lin takes your chin in his free hand, tilting your head up to look at him.
"Here's how this is gonna work, doll. You're gonna lay back and put your head over the side of the bed so I can fuck that pretty mouth of yours", his voice steady and commanding.
He nods his head towards Jiyan, "And Jiyan here is gonna play with that pussy." "But don't you even think about cumming until I give you permission to do so", he growls out.
All you can do is nod before you lay back, positioning yourself in the way Geshu Lin told you to. Your head hangs off the side of the bed, Geshu Lin's cock throbbing in front of you as Jiyan crouches between your legs once more, licking his lips at the sight of your twitching hole.
Jiyan's fingers trace over your folds, spreading them as he exposes your wetness. Two fingers tease your entrance, watching intently as your juices glisten in the soft light and make his digits slick.
A soft gasp has your lips parting, allowing Geshu Lin to angle his cock into your mouth. A low groan escapes his lips when he pushes past your soft lips and stretches your mouth open.
The sudden intrusion makes you clench around nothing as Geshu Lin's taste floods your senses. A garbled moan rises from your throat as you feel Jiyan's fingers press against your wet entrance, teasing you before pushing inside. The dual sensations make your body quiver with need and lust.
Each noise you make sends shockwaves of pleasure through Geshu Lin's cock, making him thrust a little deeper. He reaches down, squeezing your breasts in his hands as if using them to anchor himself to you. "Fuuuck... That's right, doll. Take my cock", he moans as he forces his length deeper down your throat, making you choke slightly.
Jiyan's fingers continue to pump into you, his own cock throbbing with need when he feels you clench around his soaked digits, desperate for something bigger to fill you up. His thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub.
When Jiyan's finger curl up against your spongy, sweet spot, your back arches up, pushing your chest further into Geshu Lin's grasp. Geshu Lin releases one of your breasts only for his palm to crack down against it, making you let out a choked cry around his cock.
"You better hold off that orgasm, doll. I haven't finished yet", he growls. Jiyan chuckles as you writhe against the sheets, fingers continuously curling up inside of you. "Aww, having a tough time, love?", he coos teasingly, relishing in the way your body aches for more.
You try to speak, to beg them to allow you to cum, but all that comes out are muffled whimpers around Geshu Lin's throbbing cock. You squirm again, helpless against Jiyan's expert fingers, feeling as though your body is on fire. With a snarling growl, Geshu Lin pulls out of your mouth as you gasp for air, "Fuck it. Get on your hands and knees. I'd rather cum in your ass instead."
Jiyan's eyes snap up to his at his sudden change of mind, but pulls his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss. Jiyan slides onto the bed, leaning back against your headboard as he beckons you towards him, cock twitching and leaking against his stomach, "Why don't you come up here and ride my cock, love?"
Geshu Lin gives him a sharp glare as he interferes with his plans. As you sit up, you look between the two men, one with a playful smirk on his lips as he pats his lap invitingly and the other has a dangerous look in his eyes that dares you to go against him. Geshu Lin scoffs when you crawl over to Jiyan, straddling his lap instead of following his orders.
Jiyan's smirk widens at your choice as he looks up at Geshu Lin, "Uh oh, seems she might have a favorite~" Geshu Lin snarls at his teasing words, but his eyes can't tear away from watching as you sink down on Jiyan's thick cock with a shuddering moan. Jiyan lets out his own breathy groan, eyes fluttering and head lolling back as he bottoms out inside of you.
Geshu Lin's own cock aches and leaks, still desperate to finish what he started. He climbs into the bed, positioning himself behind you. He grabs your hair, twisting it in his fist as he tugs your head back, "I'm not gonna let you two have all the fun."
He presses a searing kiss to your lips before releasing you as Jiyan's hands slide up your waist, pulling you to lean forward against him. With this new angle, Geshu Lin can see the girth of Jiyan's cock stretching out your cunt and your little asshole twitching in anticipation.
Finally, a little smirk plays on his lips as he lines up his tip with your smaller hole, spitting on it and watching as his saliva drips down towards Jiyan's cock. You suck in a breath when you feel it push and tease against the small ring of muscle.
Jiyan licks up your neck, nipping at your pulse point before pressing a soft kiss in the same spot. His breath ghosts against your slick skin as he teases you, "Relax... You can take it, can't you?"
You bite your bottom lip and nod, making the corners of his lips curl up as his eyes lock with Geshu Lin's in a silent confirmation before pressing another kiss to your neck, "Good girl." You let out a sharp cry as Geshu Lin pushing his cock into your ass the same time that Jiyan thrusts up into your wet cunt.
Geshu Lin hisses as your tight muscles throttle his length, "Fucking relax... Shit...." You feel so incredibly full having both of them inside of you at once, the sensation is utterly overwhelming. You try to hard to relax despite the insane stretch in both of your holes as your body struggles to accommodate them.
Jiyan reaches down, playing with you clit to help ease the pressure. "You're our good girl, aren't you, love..." You relax a little, your breasts squished against his broad chest as you whimper.
Jiyan's eyes flit back to Geshu Lin's with a nod. With zero warning, both men begin to thrust into you holes, making you gasp and moan so beautifully for them.
Both men let out husky groans, eyes rolling back as their cocks rub against each others through the thin layer of skin that separates them. The extra pressure and stimulation sends them reeling as they begin a steady, but brutal rhythm.
Jiyan's cock hits the deepest parts of you, pressing up against your cervix with each deep thrust, while Geshu Lin's cock pushes deep into your unexplored depths.
Tears spring in your eyes from both pleasure and pain. Jiyan continues to rub your clit furiously, bringing back that familiar heat that coils up inside of you as they ravish your holes.
Geshu Lin grips your jaw, tilting your head back as he kisses you with a heated and possessive passion. His tongue pushes and moves against yours as his grip tightens and his hips buck forward erratically.
Watching his friends kiss each other sloppily sparks a possessive and jealous flame within Jiyan. Wanting to bring your attention back to him, he grips your hips and thrusts up especially hard, smirking when you gasp against his friend's lips.
Geshu Lin rolls his eyes as he pulls away from your lips, but moves his hand down to your throat, squeezing lightly. "You're pathetic, you know that?", he scoffs.
You can't tell if that comment was meant for you or for Jiyan but the degradation of his words has you clenching down on both their cocks, making them moan.
Jiyan rubs your clit faster as he spurs on your impending orgasm, "Come on, baby. Cum for us." Your eyes flutter and Geshu Lin applies more pressure to your throat as he whispers harshly in your ear, "I wanna feel you squeeze my cock again. Bet you like being fucked in the ass, huh, doll?"
You whimper, wanting to protest but that would be a fucking lie. It doesn't take long for the coil inside of you to snap as your juices gush all over Jiyan's cock. Both holes milk their cocks for all they're worth as they both shudder and groan, releases load after load of sticky, hot cum inside of you.
Their cocks throb and twitch as they begin to soften inside of you. With another shared look between them, they pull out of you at the same time, making you mewl from overstimulation. Their golden eyes lock onto your holes as their cum drips and and dribbles down your thighs and onto the sheets below.
"Goddamn...", Geshu Lin rasps at the sight. Jiyan feels his spent cock twitch again, arousal pooling in his belly once more. You collapse against Jiyan as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close. Geshu Lin sits down beside him and puts his fingers under your chin, making you look to him.
"Give me a kiss", Geshu Lin's voice is softer now, but still holds that commanding edge. You lean towards him, pressing your lips to his gently. He sighs into the kiss, feeling all the tension release from his body. When you pull back, Jiyan redirects your gaze to him, pointing to his own lips with a slight teasing smile, "Me too, love."
You smile a little at both of their antics, but lean forward, kissing him just as softly. Jiyan smiles against your lips before you pull back. Looking between the two of them, your closest friends since childhood, you feel your heart ache with love in your chest.
Leaning forward, you embrace both of them, catching them off guard, "I love you both. I'm glad you're here with me." The sentiment makes them swell with emotions they would rather keep under wraps, but they both love you. They truly do. Always have.
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a/n: whew it got a lil emotional at the end theređĽ˛
#jiyan smut#geshu lin smut#jiyan x reader smut#geshu lin x reader smut#wuthering waves smut#wuwa smut#jiyan x reader#geshu lin x reader#geshulin smut#geshulin x reader smut#wuwa x reader smut#wuthering waves x reader smut#wuwa x reader#wuthering waves x reader
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Yandere Hybrid Town (3) | Only Human
Part One, Two
Before your fateful encounter that led to the attention of your loyal canine neighbors and the adoring affection of cow-woman- Eudora you were left to your own devices. Managing your own chores and the sprucing up of your newly inherited property. But itâs exhausting working day in and out on such a big project; itâs a given that you search for something else to do. Something to keep the loneliness at bay as you endure the sneers and snickers from the townspeople. Specifically found in one of the most abandoned spots of the whole town the library.Â
Ring Ring
âHello is anyone in here?....Well if you are Iâm just going to find what I need and check it out at the desk!â
Typically this would seem presumptuous for anyone to do but you had a sneaking suspicion your human status might have something to do with the missing librarian. Nonetheless, you did what you said grabbing a small amount and writing on the ledger conveniently left on the desk. Filling it out hoping that whoever was responsible for the neatly kept interior within the run-down library would realize youâd taken the initiative to borrow. Unbeknownst to you igniting a chain reaction for those who bear witness.
âDid theyâŚtake a book?â
âT-t-they took four!â
âOh, goodness!?â
Now there were quite a few curious souls that looked at you without contempt as they spied on you flipping through your latest borrows as you made your way to your car but none as eager as the librarian himself. It wasnât bizarre that someone would come into the library to borrow a bookâŚwhat was odd was that a newcomer had come for it and had full intentions to return.
âI-itââs them!?? Theyâre coming back!â
âEeek Iâll have to hide!â
Ring Ring
âIf anyoneâs here Iâll just do what I did last time.âÂ
Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see some kind of appendage but when you turn to follow you find nothing but another row of books. Still oblivious to the hybrid practically gone into heat at the close encounter, they watch you leave once again.
âThey nearly saw my tail!â
âT-that has to mean s-s-something good, right?â
 The few citizens of the town who frequented the library considered themselves to be of a different variety than the plebians rest of the town. A more enlightened group that relied on their vast collection of books to inform their decisions. All led by the very man given the honor to run the library.
âAll rise for the great Stein!â
âRest your heads, my enlightened followers a great happening has come upon us and I have our next course of action.â
By day the librarian was the soft-spoken, always flustered snake hybridâStein. Hired by the mayor to watch over the library in a building slowly violating the regulations of the up-to-code buildings surrounding it. It was the perfect place for the alarming presence of a snake hybrid feared for their notorious predatory instinct. Hidden, secluded, and generally avoided by the greater part of the town. Even those with a predator heritage were wary of the reptilian hybrid that is if they didnât know him for the timid, stuttering librarian he appeared to be is.
âI-i-iâm the librarian w-w-w-what do you need help with?â
âWow happy to finally meet you this time! Anyway I was wondering if you had the sequel to this book? I tried looking for it but I just canât seem to find it.â
âT-t-t-thatâs f-f-f-fine come with me.â
By night, Stein would become the leader that the minority of the town gathered around. Eagerly awaiting his knowledgable word. On an unrelated note, the townâs collection of books has a larger collection of the fictional genre influencing those curious enough to explore. With so much information they only found it right to turn to the hybrid tasked with understanding it all, seeing as no one other than Stein had attempted to learn from the non-fiction sectionâŚthat is until you.
âMy lord what does this mean!?â
âShall we stake them?!â
âRitualize them?!â
âEntice them to join!?
âEnlightened, please! Quiet your questions for I have the answer to all of them. The human is our Excalibur!â
Gasps fill the library basement.
âCan this be?â
âAs the legend foretells whosoever should hold Excalibur shall hold the keys to the kingdom!âÂ
âThat must be you our great lord Stein! You are the Arthur!â
âI should hope so.âÂ
âWith this knowledge, we can work together to bring Excalibur to you!â
âBut we must be cautious! The others of the round table before they become friends will be enemies!âÂ
âWe must begin planning immediately!â
Stein isnât delusional or an idiot or easily swayed by any means. Heâs well aware that the stories of Welsh folklore are obviously not real at least not in this time. He went to school, a private school that accelerated his learning and then he went to a university where he proceeded to get his doctorate. But the bored and uninspired superstitious minority of the town did not. If that wasnât enough to convince these other hybrids to follow, the fact that his particular origins were that of the venomous Black Mamba with a mix of Boa Constrictor. They were right to be afraid he happened to have both killer traits of his feared parents, itâs a given many insolent prey will rationalize that the one they fear the most must know the truth.
â(Y-y/n) good to see you, checking out the prequels?â
âYou know it. I also wanted to know if you had recommendations for building doggy doors?â
â...I might have somethingâŚare you thinking of getting a dog?â
âNot necessarily but Iâve got a hole in my door and I think if I try and fix it itâll just keep happening.â
âSay it! Ask my lord!â
âWhat was that?â
âI-i-uh Iâm not very good with fixing things b-b-but if you like I could take a lookâŚif you like?â
âThatâs real sweet of you Stein, I appreciate that!âÂ
âThe steps to procuring Excalibur commences!â
âShh!â
He figures if heâs happening to start a cult, he might as well get help in his love-life. It might have been foolish to proclaim a poor outcast human the most prized object that this collective could agree upon but knowing the lengths his followers would go to heâd rather you be something adored than hated. Especially since the control he had on the collective wasnât as straightforward as he had hoped.
âSee my lord weâve brought you the enemy!â
âMmmffff.â
âOh my.â
âIt will be your first of many mealsâI mean sacrifices in your pursuit of the grand Excalibur.â
âIâyes that is the plan.â
âNow eat! This is just fodder for the great Stein! Oh the grand ruler youâll be!â
âEAT!â âEAT!â âEAT!â âEAT!â
Stein swallows a tired sigh, âa wolf hybrid is gonna be so fattening.â
âFor your information my lord, he broke the wheels of Excaliburâs wagonâforcing them to buy their overpriced replacements.â
â...Iâll need salt.â
âYes, my lord!â
When heâs not playing up to the dastardly cult leader he gets to be at night heâs all so shy. Itâs hard trying to connect with the human heâs got such a big crush on especially since their outcasted status was beginning to change. Unknowingly harming him, his collective was being much nicerâcomplimenting you and standing up for you when you have encounters with human-hating citizens. Heâs happy for you but he curses the loss he used to have with speaking to you. Now instead of his well-planned bump-ins with you on the way to the market heâll have to spend more of his evening following far behind. And thatâs when your neighbors and roommate arenât getting in the way
âDonât argue with me, Mutt I know you did that on purpose!â
âPlease, no one told you to where those dumb shoes to a market day!â
âYeah well appearance is everyââ
â...â â...â
âMutt go get (Y/n), I smell danger.â
âDonât have to tell me twice.â
Itâs so shattering for him to constantly be overshadowed by every interested citizen in town. Itâs almost enough to make him give up hope but the remaining thing that ties him to you is his saving grace.Â
âW-what if we made a book-club, you and I?â
âI donât think anyone would want to join. Not with me in itâŚâ
âMmmââ
âBut Iâd love to talk about books with you! Over drinks or at my house if thatâs better!â
âT-t-t-thatâs perfect!â
If he could get past his fears heâs sure heâd be a force to be reckoned with but heâd much rather go the way heâs going now. He often receives letters about how his mother kept his father close to the nest at the beginning of their relationship. And since she seems to believe he can do even better with a mere human, heâd love if it was all organic minus the cults help.
âI feel like I'm on fire knowing such a holy existence is so close to me. Iâm going to take full advantage of this. You are just a human it might be better that itâs me you end up with, especially in this town.â
Part 4: Coming Soon
Taglist: @midnight-nightmares@xrenka@candlesworlds-blog@00hellohello00@lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes @ceramic-raven @lilyalone @asleepysouluniverse @mel-vaz @sxftiebee @staarflowerr @horror-lover-69 @stanfordswifey @butratherbutrather
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere harem#yandere animal town#yandere animal hybrids x reader#yandere male#yandere snake hybrid#yandere cow hybrid#yandere dog hybrids#yandere oc#yandere x darling#male yandere#yanderes x gn reader#yanderes x reader#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere original character#yandere original characters#yandere original character x reader
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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii
hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill
pairing:Â neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary:Â you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.
warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.
word count: 9.2k
pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post đŠľ
âI know, I know,â Joel holds a palm up, âitâs nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it â You okay?â
You realize when he pauses that youâre gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didnât hear a word he just said.
How does he know? He canât possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?
Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably shouldâve? How does he fucking know?
The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.
Joelâs eyebrows drop. âHow did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ainât been nipping my ear about âem for weeks?â
Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesnât fucking know, you idiot.
Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. âYouâre freaking me out. What the hellâs â?â
âNothing,â you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking â the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.
Maybe. You donât fucking know.
âNo,â you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, âI just â I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.â
âQuit sayinâ sorry,â he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.
And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesnât put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started â you will never tell him. He will never know.
If his intuition is that good, heâll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, heâll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.
âHowâs the stomach?â Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.
âWhat?â you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. Itâs a little more panicked than you intended.
âYesterday,â a crease forms between his brows, âyou said you had a weird stomach. That any better?â
Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.
âOh, yeah. Itâs â Well, itâs better than it was. I think I worked it out,â you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and â well. âThanks,â you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.
The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.
You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you donât feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.
A little closer than most humans get, letâs say.
âYou want a coffee or something?â you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.
âYou havinâ one?â
âSure. Wait â actually ââ Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. âIâm â No. Iâm good. But let me go make you one.â
Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. âIâm good just now, kid. Wait until youâre makinâ one. Thanks.â
You lift a shoulder. âWelcome.â
His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. âYou gonna stand there ân watch me all day? You my foreman now?â
âSure,â you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. âI can go, if you want.â
His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. âYouâre good company, all in all.â
Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.
Everything so heightened that itâs actually painful.
Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. âAre we â? Weâre good, right?â
âGood?â
âYeah. Youâd tell me if things were weird?â
âWhy would things be weird?â
His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.
âI just,â Joel sighs, âI feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ainât feelinâ too hot. But youâre quiet.â
âQuiet,â you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.
âYeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.â
Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Dianeâs station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.
âJust â not in a very annoying mood, I guess,â you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.
Joelâs chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then heâs nearing you, turning until youâre shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.
The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice wonât collect them.
Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you â like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you donât know.
âWhat happened â at the wedding,â he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.
Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. Youâre on the same page.
âWe didnât use â you know. And with you not feelinâ well, itâsâŚâ A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, âAre you â?â
Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didnât need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you â both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.
You gulp. ââŚIf I was?â
His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasnât seeped through, hasnât bled into his brain yet. âThen,â another breath, âthen itâd be a conversationâŚâ His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and â what is it? Hoping?
Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. Heâs so much taller, heâs so much older. Thereâs so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news Iâm pregnant would actually crack him.
Your eyes meet. You whisper, âThen â talk,â and his expression softens.
He blinks away whateverâs left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades â turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion youâve ever heard it. âAre you?â he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.
Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.
Joelâs eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: Sheâs pregnant. Sheâs pregnant. I got her pregnant.
You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.
And he says nothing, and itâs almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.
He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.
Joelâs lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you donât want to miss a syllable.
âAre you ââ he blinks, ââ are you feelinâ okay?â
You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.
âWhat?â
âAre you feeling okay?â
Your head jerks. âIâm â Iâm fine. I mean, Iâm fucking shocked.â
He nods. âHow long have you known?â
âTook that right before you showed up,â you say, eyes diving to his hands. âTwenty minutes, maybe.â
Heâs still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking youâre still there â as if you might, too. Might be swept off if heâs not keeping an eye on you.
His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. âJesus,â he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.
And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: youâre fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?
âYeah,â you sniff, âJesus.â
But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you youâre still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.
âWeâre gonna work it out,â he says into your hair. âWeâre gonna â Jesus, I did not expectâŚWe are goinâ to be fine, alright? You are goinâ to be fine.â
Youâre nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. Theyâre doing nothing, his words â blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart â but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.
âWhat do we do?â you ask into his shirt.
Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until youâre staring at one another. âWhat do you wanna do?â
âI donâtâŚâ Your headâs shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. âI donât think I want to get rid of it.â
He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. âAlright. Then you donât have to. You donât gotta do anythinâ youâre not comfortable with.â
âBut,â you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, âthis fucks everything up. Everythingâs about to change.â
Joel takes a long, slow breath. âIt complicates some things, thatâs for sure.â He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.
âVâŚWhat?â
He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. âVanessa,â he says, clearer now.
âVanessa?â
A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.
âWho the hell is Vanessa?â
Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. Heâs thinking. Carefully.
Too fucking carefully. Heâs taking too long.
âJoel. Whoâs Vanessa?â
âSheâsâŚâ He sighs. âSheâs my ex. From Tommyâs wedding. Vanessa Hart.â
Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joelâs.
âVanessa,â you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and youâve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.
Joelâs hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.
âWe, uhâŚwe swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didnât think much of it, but weâve seen each other a couple times since.â
This isnât the time for another itâs a date, itâs not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by â
âSeen each other?â
âMhm.â He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. âDates,â he clarifies. âWeâve been on a couple dates.â
âOh.â
Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.
Though youâve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.
Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before youâd set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster â the cleanup of debris and mistake.
But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.
Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.
Joel scratches the back of his neck. âWe wereâŚwe were seeinâ about starting things up again. Me ân her.â
âYeah,â you nod, âI got you. Thatâs â I mean, Iâm â Iâm sorry, Joel, I ââ
���Woah, woah,â heâs stepping forward now, âhey, no. No way. This wasnât you. Well, shoot â it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?â
You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.
âThis was just as much me,â he repeats, voice soft and soothing.
âBut, you know â if you wanted to â just âcause I donât want to get â so if you didnât wanna have to â thatâd be okay, you know that, right?â
His head snaps back, brows low. Itâs the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. Itâs the first time he looksâŚdownright offended. âAre you kidding me?â he asks, and then, âTell me youâre kidding.â
âI just â I know this ainât ideal. Itâs even worse if youâre tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, thenâŚâ
Joel shakes his head. âShut up,â he says, edged with some kind of groan. âStop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? Iâm here, ân I mean Iâm here. Weâre in this together. I am not running out on you.â
âJoel ââ
What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. âIf you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own ââ
âI donât,â you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. âIâm just saying, itâs a fucking lot. I donât want you to feel trapped. Iâm giving you an out, man.â
âI am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.â
âAnd what about Vanessa?â
âWhat about her?â he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. âSheâll just â Weâll talk, Iâll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?â
âRight,â you nod, âokay. One thing at a time.â
âLetâs just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didnât lug all that timber over here to not do âem.â
âOkay,â you repeat, making for the door.
âAh.â He clicks, and you turn back. âWhere the hell do you think youâre goinâ?â
âTo get the timber.â
âI donât think so,â he says, pointing to your bed. âSit down. Relax. You ainât getting a damn thing.â
Joel calls it a day at six oâclock.
The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.
Youâre in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. Heâs good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments arenât something youâre used to handing one another.
He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said heâd be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted â demanded â that you stay where you were.
Iâll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off â sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldnât clear â and thatâs when the two of you realized that you donât even have one anotherâs numbers.
And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you donât even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.
The attentiveness isâŚnew. Itâs interesting. Itâs kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you donât know from a street you donât recognize the name of, is sweet.
Whatever. Itâs fucking weird, alright?
Youâve never seen this side of Joel. You didnât know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Letâs face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off â teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and heâll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.
And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always beenâŚwell, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it werenât for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this wouldâve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You wouldâve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel wouldâve gone about his, doing â whatever the fuck he does.
Sure, itâs weird. But itâs nice. Itâs nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk â actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.
Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests youâd taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, Thatâs three minutes â both also positive, by the way â youâd have no fucking clue.
You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.
âHey,â you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. ââŚhey, little buddy. I donât â know you very well, yet. I figure you canât even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. Iâm â Ew, no. Iâm not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I donât know who I am right now, so justâŚmaybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are weâŚwe cool?
âYou canât tell me, I know. I just have to assume weâre cool. Okay. Well. Keep growinâ. KeepâŚdoing your thing. Youâre doing great. Weâre doing â weâre doing alright.
âGood job, kid. Good job.â
Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes itâŚabout as well as you might hope.
He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommyâs wedding.
She â? Is â is that a good idea?
I donât know, kid. Itâs the best Iâve got.
Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?
Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasnât her boyfriend when we slept together.
You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least heâs a better builder than he is a folder.
Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another â unfolded â sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Letâs just see how it goes, alright?
Alright.
Weâre really trying this again. Itâs only been a couple weeks.
Okay.
And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, yâknow?
Joel. I said okay.
He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.
Youâre on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six oâclock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. âForget somethinâ today?â he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.
âCame out to get it,â you brace yourself on the railing, âfelt sick. This is me workinâ up to it.â
âYou want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?â
You smile, eyes screwing shut. âWas coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.â
The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, âI was cominâ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?â
âSevenâs good. Are we getting food?â
âYou wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldnât be up for it, what with the, uhâŚâ Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.
âMaybe just drinks,â you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.
He nods. âDrinks it is. You okay? You need anything?â
âIâm good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.â
Four minutes early, thereâs a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.
âHowdy,â Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Yâokay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.
Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. Sheâs prettier up close.
Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, ââŚthis is Vanessa.â
âHi,â she says, and pushes the flowers towards you â a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. âHi,â again.
âHi,â you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joelâs eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.
But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. âItâs nice to meet you â officially. I saw you at Tommy and Mariaâs wedding. You looked so beautiful.â
âThanks,â springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. âYou looked â you looked great, too. Do you wanna â? I mean â Sorry. Come in. Obviously.â
She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like sheâs part of a dream. Sheâs just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form â pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry â as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.
You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessaâs flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.
âNonalcoholic,â he says, unscrewing the cap.
Your eyebrows jump. âGreat. Thanks.â
âSheâs nervous,â he murmurs, leaning in. âI know you are, too. Yâall are similar like that.â
You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. âShe seems sweet,â you assure him. âShe shouldnât be nervous.â
âNeither should you.â
âIs thisâŚtotally weird for you?â
Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. âYeah,â he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.
âSorry.â
He angles his jaw. âStop sayinâ you're sorry. Iâll kick your ass.â
Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. âSorry.â
He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.
âIâm trying not to make it weird,â you offer, slipping by.
âI donât want you to try anything.â He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.
Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. âHow are you feeling? Joel said youâre a littleâŚworse for wear, right now.â
âIâve been better,â you say, smiling. âJust morning sickness. Which lasts â all day.â
She nods sympathetically. âMy sister had it rough with her first. I actuallyâŚâ She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. âI brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.â
She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. âThatâs so kind,â you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. Heâs staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.
âAnd â listen,â Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, âI donât want anything to be weird â between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation isâŚnew. Itâs, umâŚâ
âItâs kinda weird,â you say, humoring. âItâs okay. I know.â
She breathes a relieved laugh. âIt is. Thank God you said it.â She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. âBut I guess,â a deep breath, âI guess it is what it is. And weâre all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?â
Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. âYeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel â there isnât â weâre not at allâŚâ
âOh,â she bats the idea away, âI know. I know that. He told me everything. Itâs â You know, itâs just a timing thing.â
Joelâs staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesnât shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if heâd mind making you a cup of ginger tea.
You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, whoâs three now, and compares how youâre feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.
Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which sheâs trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kateâs hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.
And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says sheâll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and â itâs weird.
Because â behind the veil of conversation youâre doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night â only, in Joelâs house. In Joelâs house, on Joelâs couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joelâs brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.
You canât help it â youâre wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.
Maria wouldâve liked her, you think. Wouldâve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommyâs Maria and Joelâs Vanessa â presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.
And once theyâre gone, once youâre left alone again â lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company â it slips out.
âFuck her, right?â You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. âShe was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.â
And then, realizing who youâre talking to: âNo. Sorry, baby, no. I donât hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But â Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just â she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, donât they?â
Itâs just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant â sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?
Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they donât belong. Because none of it even matters â the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It canât matter.
Youâre where you are, heâs where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.
Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the otherâs thinking of.
âAt eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.â
Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? Youâre sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?
Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. âCâmon,â he utters, leaning in, âhow can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?â
You squint under fluorescent white. âA raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? Thatâs pretty scary.â
He smirks. âNot to me it ainât. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.â
âOh, fuck off,â you reply, whacking him.
He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. âSpeaking of â we gotta talk.â He elbows you, waiting until youâre looking again to speak. âWe gotta cut the language.â
âCut the language?â
âUhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.â
âUh,â you scoff, âI donât think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.â
âCharming,â Joel says. âYou know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearinâ like a trooper?â
You grin, tipping your head to him. âIf it comes out and says anything, weâre rich. So â yeah. Let it.â
He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.
âYouâre up, kid,â Joel says, standing beside you.
You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. âIâm scared.â
âHey,â he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. âThis is the easy part, right? Weâre just going to meet them.â
âOh, fuck,â you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joelâs hand a vice grip around yours.
She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. âHop up, darlinâ.â
You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until youâre blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it werenât for Joelâs Eveninâ, maâam when she greets the two of you, youâd believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.
âNot often I do these past five oâclock,â she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. Itâs not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.
Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes youâre not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.
âYeah, uh,â he clears his throat, âwork commitment. I couldnât get away any earlier, so weâre havinâ to do this a little late.â
âWhat do you do?â she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.
âIâm a contractor,â Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.
Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, heâs mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, heâs someone elseâs, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.
The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.
âShouldnât be too long, then yâall can get home for the night. You live nearby?â
âTwenty minutesâ drive. Not far, are we?â Joel asks you.
Your eyes shoot down to his. âNo,â you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, ânot far.â
She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. âYou got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, thatâs about as scary as this gets. Weâre just gonna make sure everythingâs looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. Youâre doing great.â
âYou hear that?â Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasnât left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, âYouâre doinâ great.â
You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.
Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. âWe ready?â
You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.
She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.
A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freyaâs wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but â right there.
âMom, Dad,â she grins, âmeet your baby.â
You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.
âYou see right here, right in the center?â A white cross appears over the blobâs middle. âThat little movement? The kinda â pulsing?â
You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joelâs hand that you risk drawing blood.
âThatâs the heart. Ticking away.â
âThe heart?â you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.
âYep. Perfect, too.â
She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the babyâs chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.
And suddenly, it's real â all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joelâs hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and â
And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.
You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.
Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. âIâll give you guys a moment to yourselves,â she says, wheeling back in her chair. âTake all the time you need. Iâm right outside.â
âThanks,â Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.
The door closes on your little bubble â you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that â yeah, that night happened, and yeah, youâre forever changed because of it. The evidence that youâre about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.
And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel â you fucking adore that little blob already.
Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words youâre only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I canât believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart â he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.
Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isnât already right here in this little bubble of yours.
He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.
âStill scared?â he whispers.
âTerrified,â you tell him.
âMe, too,â he says, and kisses you again.
You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, youâd stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joelâs hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.
He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head â the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something youâre not quite sure how to define.
âDuck,â he says, voice vibrating into your skull.
âHuh?â
âStart saying duck. Make the baby think weâre saying that, then you can say ââ he lowers his voice, ââ fuck, all you want.â
âThe hell would I have to say duck for?â
Joel stands upright and shrugs. âI donât know. Think of somethinâ. A nickname, maybe.â
âDuck?â
He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.
The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. âBaby Duck,â you offer, and he smiles.
Smiles in a way you donât think youâve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.
He agrees. âBaby Duck it is.â
Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.
âItâs been a big day,â he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. âJust â let me run around after you for a little bit.â
You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered â I gotta maintain my independence, Iâm gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know â but, truthfully, youâll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before youâve even voiced the request.
He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the foodâs gone, heâs out of beer, and youâve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.
You donât like the crust?
Nope.
What fuckinâ age are you?
If it ainât stuffed, itâs just not worth it.
At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joelâs home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by â
Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear theyâre etched on the inside of your eyelids.
Youâre in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you canât focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.
A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, donât understand the meaning of. Itâs been years. Why now? Mom.
Youâre not sure why, or who youâre even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. Sheâs not turning around. Sheâs not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.
You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, Iâm scared.
The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. Youâre thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.
Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. Itâs lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom Iâm scared Mom please Iâm so scared I â
âBaby.â
His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.
You lift from the bed like itâs ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, itâs not sucking in enough breath; you canât breathe you canât breathe you canât fucking breathe.
Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.
âIcantbreathe,â you pant.
Joelâs body curves around yours. âYouâre alright,â heâs telling you â urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. âIâm here, youâre okay. Youâre at my place, youâre safe, but, kid â I need you to slow down. Youâre hyperventilating.â
You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, andâŚoutâŚand inâŚandâŚout.
âThatâs it. Keep doing that. Youâre good, baby, I got you. I wonât let anything happen to you.â
In â and out. In â and out again.
The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.
âCan you sit down for me?â
âNo,â you whimper, and Joel nods.
âThatâs alright,â he says. âIâm gonna get you a drink, that okay?â
You grab his T-shirt. âNo. Donât leave me. Please. Sorry.â
He cups your frozen cheeks. âI ainât goinâ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.â
He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.
âGinger,â he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.
âSorry,â you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.
âMany times do I gotta say it?â he asks dryly. âQuit sayinâ youâre sorry.â
You gulp nervously. âYou got work in the morning. Youâre gonna be exhausted.â
âAnd if I hadnât let you keep me up watchinâ chick flicks, Iâd be rested. Thatâs something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.â
You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. âI donât want you to worry about me.â
âWell,â Joel sniffs, âyouâre carrying my child. Iâll always worry about you.â
You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joelâs jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.
âWhat time is it?â you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.
âThree. Take a sip.â
âIâm fine.â
âSip.â
You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.
He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. âDoes this happen a lot?â
âNever,â you say. âThis never happens.â
Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. âAlright,â he sighs, âthatâs okay. Breathe again. Youâre doing fine.â
But you donât feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. âWhy the fuck is this happening?â you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. âWhat the fâ?â
âEasy. I donât know. Hormones? Stress?â
âYou sound like my fucking doctor.â
Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. âLetâs just give it some time to pass, okay?â
You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.
âHowâs Vanessa?â you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.
Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. âSheâs good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. Theyâre sure itâs a boy.â
âHa. Joel Jr.â
âJoel Jr.,â he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. âSo,â he says, âAllandale.â
âMhm?â
âWonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitinâ Sam.â
You shrug. âDoubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ân back together, every day.â
âFirst grade, huh? Best one.â
âYeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or â whatever she could think of. And sheâd always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.â
âThatâs pretty cool,â Joel says.
âYeah,â you say again, nodding eagerly. âShe was so cool. And fun, yâknow? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.â You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.
âWhat about your dad? What was he like?â
You frown. âHe wasâŚfine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldnât be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.â
Something flashes across Joelâs face that seems to say he knows â or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. âYou miss her?â he asks, switching back.
âMy mom?â You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. âI miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I donât think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.
âIâve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like ââ gesturing down, ââ this. But, sometimesâŚsometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend itâs her. Pretend I have a mom, and sheâs cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe thatâs what missing her feels like.â
Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.
âWhat was her name?â he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.
You almost choke on your tea. âShoot â Iâm sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh â Her name?â
It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.
Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.
âSarah,â you tell Joel. âHer name was Sarah.â
#*hits post*#*throws laptop from bridge*#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#the last of us#tlou#macfrog#neighbor!joel miller#neighbor!joel#babydaddy!joel miller#babydaddy!joel#tw pregnancy
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