#oh well such is the nature of things. happy days very soon!

[teiasviago]

BRIDGERTON 1.02 | "Shock and Delight"

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part i)

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summary | Moving in with you soon-to-be stepfather is the least of your concerns while under the unfavorable regime of your mother—but then there's Joel, Tommy's brother, who always know just how to soothes your worries.

author's note | this was originally supposed to be a tommy x reader idea that morphed into joel and here we are. special thanks to @chaotic-mystery and @swiftispunk for lending me their beautiful minds and helping this make more sense <3

content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma (mentally, with one instance of physical), und*rage drinking, contradiction all over the place, joel is a broke man who makes horrible decisions, reckless behavior for reader, mast*rbation, voyeurism, one-sided flirting, joel can keep your secrets <3

word count —9.2k

PART TWO, PART THREE (tbd)

“Married?”

There’s the wiggle of your mother’s fingers, the shine of the small diamond under the natural light streaming through the window to your shared two bedroom apartment—being twenty and still living your mother wasn’t ideal, but it was all you could manage at the moment. You force a grin and take her hand, examining the jewelry.

Tommy had actually talked to you weeks ago, a prerequisite to going through with the whole ordeal, making sure that it was okay with you. It wasn’t that you minded Tommy, he was a good man—too goddamn good for your mother, who always seemed to find a way to ruin something. Everything. You wanted to warn him, but even as much as you despise your mother on most days, he made her happy.

“It’s been a year,” You comment offhandedly, “you’re sure he’s the one?”

She snatches her hand away with a bitter gaze and fiddles with the engagement ring, pacing her way around your shared living room.

“Can’t you just be happy?” She pleads, so petulant and whiney. Like a child, “For once?”

You shrug, “I like Tommy, he’s a good guy. It’s just—he’s the only man you’ve dated since…”

“Baby, I know what I’m doing.”

Your eyes flick up under a lazy gaze, seemingly unconvinced. But, you mask it well.

“So, are you going to elope then?”

She shakes her head, suddenly shaking with a subtle excitement that has her bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“No, honey—we’ll be planning a wedding. Small, of course. You know Tommy doesn’t have much family.”

Just a brother, whom you’d never met. You never heard about anyone else.

“And—“

That’s a tone you don’t like.

Anticipation. Hesitation.

“We’ve been looking for a house.”

“Oh?”

So, she was kicking you to the curb. Time to leave the nest, grow up—blah blah. 

But, she continues.

“And in the meantime, we’re going to move into Tommy’s childhood home!” 

You cringe externally at the excitement, “What’s wrong with our place?”

“We’re gonna be saving every penny we can, cutting costs where it seems easier. Joel is offering to let us live there for the time being rent-free, given we take care of the place.”

Joel. You knew a name. Not a face. A personality. Only that he was Tommy’s older brother. Worked with him, spent weekends with him. That was it. He seemed like a lonely man from a distance.

“So, you’ll do just that,” She remarks, a definitive look that allows no argument, “we’ll be out of here by the end of the month.”

“That’s next week, mom—“

“Then, I suggest you get to packin’.”

Unbelievable.

“You can’t be serious—I don’t even know him. Do you? Have you even met him?”

“Once or twice,” She shrugs casually, “He’s a private man, but he’s nice enough. I’m not questionin’ it, honey. Tommy is a good man, I can assume Joel is, too.”

Your mother spots the disdain the moment it crosses your face, a finger held up in reprimand.

“You are as ungrateful as they come,” She bickers and then follows the shame, “what would he say?”

Your eyes drag up toward the ceiling, feeling the echo of a scripture you’ve heard time and time again—different words, same meaning, “Thou shalt love thy—“

“—neighbor as thyself,” Your mom finishes, a prosperous grin on her face, “Go on, wash up before bed.”

Even as you graduated and started college, still living under the conveniences of your mother, she felt the need to guide and protect, preaching whatever bullshit she’s swallowed down the past twenty years of your life.

She wasn’t like this before, in fact, it was strikingly opposite. But, she’d had you young, regretted her choices, and while trying to be a good mom had found something to cling to, to help guide her back to some semblance of sanity and safety. 

Unluckily for you, it means years and years of strict teaching and rules that made no sense to you now. Hell, they had stopped making since long before that, given the way your mom has relaxed on her morals since she met Tommy, a man that was nowhere near religion or under the constant fear of something other.

You questioned it everyday—tried to fight it, but then the guilt creeped in.

It was your own mother’s doing; a rigorous and methodically set out schedule when you were young, everything followed by prayer or reminders from your mother. He’s always watching. As you grew older, into your body and started to question—it was never outwardly, but your mother took notice and found that shaming you for your inherent provactiveness was easier than guidance. In fact, punishment was an even easier route, most of the time.

“They’re having a cookout tomorrow,” She calls over her shoulder as you depart quietly to your room, somehow more exhausted from a five minute conversation with her than anything else you’ve done all day, “so, best behavior, alright?”

You don’t even try to hide the roll of your eyes that time, sighing softly and answering with a tired, “Yes, of course.”

It would have been hard to predict how that day would change the trajectory of your life completely.

—

The house is beautiful, really. Deep in the back of a suburban neighborhood, right in the middle of Austin. It was lively—kids playing, neighbors conversing over gates from their lawns, music blaring through the streets. 

But frankly, it was fucking weird.

You're halfway up the driveway when Tommy opens the door, spots your mother first and swoops her up into a hug that lifts her off her feet, a squeal escaping her.

When it’s your turn, it’s a gentle but quick hug. An even softer pat on the back as he welcomes you in.

Welcoming you to what would soon be home. 

Temporarily, at least.

“Come on,” He calls back toward you both with a nod of his head, “we just got finished on the grill and the game is about to hit kickoff, y’all are just in time.”

You step past the threshold, enveloped in the homey smell of vanilla and citrus, something a little savory—which you assumed was the food, and some of the scent from fresh cut lawns from the neighborhood seeping in through the open windows. 

Tommy’s closing the door behind you before he comes around your side, yelling out with his hands cupped around his mouth.

“Joel, get ‘yer ass in here!” Tommy yells, slightly jarring as you flinch at the loud sound. Tommy seems to notice and offers an apology with a kind rub of his hand against your shoulder, “Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. He’s hard of hearing—“

“I’m not,” The man grumbles as he rounds the corner from outside, walking through the sliding door with a tray of freshly cooked patties lined up in rows, “my hearin’ is perfectly fuckin’ fine.”

Tommy seems careless to dismiss it as your mother offers Joel a polite greeting which he returns with what you can immediately spot is a forced smile. Then, Tommy introduces you. Your smile is just as forced, but out of the inherent nervousness of the situation, offering a small wave that Joel returns with a nod.

“Food’s done,” Joel offers as a change of subject, “game’s starting so—“ He waves vaguely at the array of food, “have at it, I guess.”

“Did you wanna say grace, baby?” Tommy asks, looking over at your mother.

“No—no, I’m sure you and Joel don’t do that,” Your mom looks at you, rubbing a surprisingly gentle touch over your cheek, squeezing gently, “We can say it to ourselves right, sweetie?”

Your eyes avert toward Joel who looks more uncomfortable now then when you walked in. You nod regardless, shrugging away from your mother’s touch. She doesn’t argue and returns her attention toward Tommy, thankfully.

You move curiously, examine the different toppings and add-ons, sides, and different treats. It was far more than you were used to—a nice change to your mothers botched box dinners and takeout ordering that always ended up wrong. 

Joel moves mechanically, eyes on the screen as he slaps his burger together, sliding you the bag of buns like clockwork, almost as if he sensed it. It was the only tangible acknowledgment he’s made aside from the nod. But, beyond that—it was silence.

He was an odd man. Quiet, reserved—part of you understood. It was uncharted territory, two mostly strangers in his home. You’d be a little annoyed too.

But, you remember your mother’s words. So, you make an attempt.

His hip is digging into the counter at the edge of his kitchen as he holds the plate to his chest and eats his burger, messily and starved, scarfing it down in very few bites. He catches you staring at him curiously, shamefully taking the first small bite of your own burger. He doesn’t react at you, but he does consciously wipe the mess of grease around his mouth as he sets his plate down, aiming to set himself up with another burger.

“It’s nice,” You say suddenly, the lack of elaboration apparent and Joel raises his eyebrows in unison, “—your house, it’s…nice.”

Above the low rumble of music playing on the radio—something you can determine is a rock song, of what band or song name you have no idea, and the sudden voice of Tommy yelling over a fumbled pass, which Joel also echoes his frustration with as he catches the screen over your shoulder. You jump, turning over your shoulder to look. 

Joel seems to notice the way you startle, “‘M sorry,” He apologies kindly, “and…thank you.”

It was hard to settle and feel comfortable, knowing that normally, in any other situation, your mom would be judging them—the music, the course language, the entertainment of boys throwing a ball around and tackling each other. It wasn’t in her taste or her faith to condone such things. 

But suddenly, with Tommy, none of it mattered. It was jarring, to say the least.

Joel leaves you after that, taking a seat on the separate recliner from the couch your mother was sharing with Tommy, somehow entranced in the game and Tommy’s answers to her questions. Everything was overwhelming and in the midst of another yelling match at the screen with your eyes locked on the sight as you blindly walked backwards into the counter behind you, you felt your elbow hit a can and suddenly the liquid was spilling over your feet.

You yelp in surprise, catching only the attention of Joel. You scramble, picking up the can before sliding it into the sink, stepping out of your now ruined sandals and feeling suddenly overwhelmed by everything—the noise, the smelly, sticky mess of liquid all over you and your clothes.

Joel’s footsteps are heavy but swift, his plate sliding over the island as he rips off a wad of paper towels over your head and turns on the faucet, “That’s my bad—forgot my beer was there,” You look up at him wide-eyed, feeling him guide your hands under the stream to wash away the mess, “you alright?”

It feels like someone was twisting your gut in their grip—you’ve never heard those words aimed your way before and the anxiety engulfs you. Joel was already crouching down by then, scooping your ruined sandals into his hand and nodding toward the backdoor, “We can wash these off and leave ‘em outside to dry.”

You nod dumbly, watching him run them under the water, but his eyes examine you closely and the quick rise and fall of your chest, “You can follow me outside, if you’re needin’ a break.”

Again you nod, but you’re sure that time. You step over the small puddle on the floor and your face scrunches up in disgust, sensing the presence of your mother as she comes into view.

“Oh, honey—you made a mess.”

“She’s alright,” Joel stresses, “I left my beer there, s’nothing some napkins and water can’t clean up.”

There’s a silent reprimand behind her eyes, something you would hear about later or something she was storing for another time, “C’mon,” Joel’s voice saves you and you follow, shying away from the piercing look of your mother, feeling the wave of relief after Joel closed the backdoor behind you.

“Accidents happen,” Joel offers as a reminder and a sense of comfort, placing your sandals on the concrete as he reaches for the hose, turning the spout and watching as it sputtered out slowly before it steadies and he spray them down before catching your feet, washing away the foamy liquid.

You jump slightly, mostly from the change in temperature against the humid, sticky heat of the sun as it beats down over the house, “You got that look,” Joel says offhandedly, reaching over to turn off the spigot and wrap the hose up.

You glance up at him, stepping out of the puddle of water, “What look?”

“Like someone stuck you in a cage full of bears and you ain’t got a clue how to respond,” The comparison makes you laugh, not because it was ridiculous, but because it was true. “I got—I got a place you can sit for a while, if you need the silence?”

There’s a weight lifting off your chest, one you hadn’t realized was there until he says the words.

You nod and Joel crooks a couple fingers your way, beckoning you to follow. 

Joel leads you back into the house, but takes a sharp right to the set of double doors leading to a separate room—bookshelves and stacks of unorganized papers, a desk cluttered with random items and an old desktop, an even dustier radio stuffed away in a corner.

“It’s my office, don’t use it much anymore,” Joel explains, but taps at the open double doors, “but it’s a good place to block out noise, if ‘ya need a minute.”

You step past him curiously, leaving a trail of wet footsteps that Joel would eventually clean up later. It was cluttered in the room but somehow brought a sense of comfort, clearly a place that Joel seeked out himself from time to time.

“There’s books, magazines—feel free to use the computer,” Joel waves vaguely, “although, I dunno how well it works, haven’t turned that thing on in ages.”

“Thank you,” You tell him sincerely, watching him nod as he closed the doors behind him and gave you free roam to look around, be curious.

And naturally, you were.

He had a large collection of music—CDs and cassettes, a shelf full of vinyl albums. Books, tons—something you assumed he’s collected naturally over the years. Most of it seemed fairly boring, non-fiction books on various topics; how-tos and instructional guides, nothing exciting. Your gaze tracks to his desk, running your fingers along the chair before you’re pulling it out and taking a seat, the plastic creaking with age.

You press a key on the keyboard but the computer refuses to come to life—you chew at the inside of your cheek, looking around at the pattern of squares on the wall, like missing pieces plucked from the wall—like dust collecting around picture frames that were no longer there. Your fingers dance along a drawer, twirling in your seat as you pulled at the handle and find a drawer full of thick files. But, on the top, a book with a sticky note is sitting alone, completely out of place.

Leave it, you tell yourself. 

Still, your fingers reach for it.

It’s a thick book, a soft-matte touch from cover to cover. It was mostly unsuspecting, a plain cover of a mirrored forest, the post-it stuck over the title but you’re too scared to remove it. You flip it over, reading over the summary on the back. The summary is dull, unsuspecting, but as you flip through the book, skimming from chapter to chapter you realize it is not that.

And to be fair, you knew this type of genre was something people were interested in, never laying eyes on it yourself. But, to see it stuffed away in the desk of one Joel Miller, is a fair surprise—you examine the text, hanging on every word as you delve deep, deep; into a scene of voyeurism amongst a group. Somewhere between that and the next chapter you get lost, only resurfacing when you hear a knock at the glass door to the room.

The book snaps shut as you spot Joel, who’s peeking his head in with an emotionless gaze. He could just be checking to make sure you’re not snooping too deep, but then he’s walking toward you at a leisurely pace, a fresh beer in his hand as he squints, looking at the book in your hand.

He plucks at the post-it and chuckles slightly.

“Forgot that thing was in there,” He tells you, “Tommy bought that—year ago, I think? One of his stupid gag gifts.”

“You’ve never read it?”

Joel shakes his head, lips pulled in a tight line of indifference as he sipped at his drink.

“If you like it, you can take it with you.”

And then he realizes his misstep, your eyes meeting awkwardly.

“I mean, I’ll be here permanently come Sunday, so—”

Joel smiles slightly, a subtle quirk of his lip, “Well, least I know you’ll bring it back.”

You follow his movement, his fingers gripping the aluminum can and the perspiration from the can wetting his fingers, sweating down his wrist and you subconsciously lick your lips before your teeth are dragging, digging into the flesh of it. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing with the movement and Joel catches you, your intrigued gaze and volleys it with a question.

“Did you want a sip?” He says, mostly as a joke.

He remembers the time Sarah had come to him, piling onto his lap and with her constant stream of questions—he’d let her have the tiniest sip as she kept pressing on it and Joel knew there was no use in fighting the steadfast energy of an eight year old.

She hated it, immediately retching in disgust. Joel gave her a chuckled “I told ya so, kiddo.”

This was different, though. 

“I’m not twenty one,” You counter, mouth quivering down into a slight frown and your shoulders shrugging instinctively, “and my mother would kill me.”

But, you want to—not even driven by an act of rebellion. It was genuine curiosity.

Joel tilts his body, peeks around the corner and spots the pair still sat on the couch.

“What she doesn't know won’t hurt her,” Joel crosses that line for you, your hands cupping around his larger one as he guides it to your mouth, “s’not like you’re gonna go get piss drunk, right?”

You giggle softly at that, lips pressing into the can as he tilts it into your mouth. The vision of him is…overwhelming. Stood over you in the mostly unlit room, barefoot and jeans rubbing at the top of his feet, dark cotton shirt pulling over his shoulders and a few weeks of facial hair unkempt and outgrown. 

If your mother were to see, it would have been you.

Your fault. And again, maybe it was.

But Joel, he towers. You’re nearly eye-level with his waist but admittedly, they never leave his face. You sip gingerly, fingers curling around his own as you tip your head back and consume more, until your cheeks are puffing out with the liquid and you swallow, immediately grimacing at the taste as you pull away, sputtering out a soft cough as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Joel defends, not even bothering to wipe the rim as he takes another sip, somehow finding that more intimate than any of what had just happened between you both.

Neither of you say anything and you shake your head, fingers curling around the book in your lap.

“I’ll take your word for it,” You nod, but Joel can see the disgust for it on your face.

“Go on, take the book home,” Joel offers, “ain’t gonna be missed ‘round here.”

You smile sweetly, licking over your lips and tasting the remnants of the alcohol, a sign of sin amongst the many you had just committed, but the lack of guilt was startling. You couldn’t even begin to care.

When you leave, the book is tucked away in your bag and hidden. Joel is already cleaning up by the time your mother is rushing after you out the door and to the car, leaving a curious Tommy to linger around, helping Joel sparsely before he’s bugging Joel for a lighter.

Joel had quit smoking long ago, but still had a few lighters tucked away in his study.

Tommy searches around aimlessly, sifting through cups and drawers until he’s pulling open one, pausing, calling over to Joel curiously.

“You finally put up that book I gave you a goddamn century ago?”

His answer is your name as he turns the faucet off, wiping off the final dish.

“She seemed interested so I let her borrow it,” He calls over to Tommy, who’s leaning up with a wide-eyed but amused expression—it was clear that his brother was sometimes just as oblivious as him.

“Joel, you never read the damn book, did you?”

“Was I supposed to?”

Tommy makes a face, a smug smile fading in for a brief moment.

“Tommy, what was the book about?”

Tommy eventually finds the lighter, snatching it up with a ‘aha!’, trailing back over to Joel before he finally answers him.

“Thought I’d spice up your nightly reading, brother.” 

Joel can piece his words together; the innate smugness and tone that was edging toward a full-on chuckle, it wasn’t an appropriate piece. And given the stuff he did know of your mother, the worst choice of a genre for you to sneak home with.

“Did I do a bad thing?” Joel asks, “I mean, that girl is an adult—”

“Twenty, yeah. But, her mom—”

“Your fiance,” Joel clarifies, “she’ll be your step-daughter soon too, you realize that?”

“She can be a little—”

“Judgemental?” Joel finishes for him, drying his hands off with a dish towel before it toward the empty counter, “Freakish? She’s got your ass goin’ to church every Sunday, ain’t seen that before.”

Joel sighs, a clipped noise as he scratches at his forehead.

“I’m not judging, I swear. But, her moving here—I’m not feedin’ into that whole schtick.”

Tommy holds his hands up in defense, “She knows—”

“I fuckin’ hope so.”

—

The vision of the scene is imagined under the safety of your room that night, squinting to read the text under the dim light of your bedside lamp, words amongst feelings that weren’t foreign but often weren’t welcomed. You’ve had boyfriends and kisses, experiences like any other girl has, but you’ve shoved it away for far too long—it was years of high school, shying away from boys and girls only to finally find the freedom to branch out in college, but under the constant reminder of you mother’s generosity to allow you to finish schooling without the stress of work or the responsibility of earning your keep. He’ll guide you, she’d always remind you. A constant reminder that you were under his watch, more of a threat than anything. And your mother knew that.

The hand tucked under your chin switches to the other, your now free hand trailing down your chest and under the sheets, slipping past the snug waistband of your underwear. The scene was vivid, descriptive as the man pulled the female characters legs apart, exposing her, doting her with the kind of words that made your stomach swirl and your gut twist, dragging your middle finger down the center of your pussy and sighing at the slick that was already there, gathering up the wetness until you could guide it over your clit in quick, hurried circles.

You snap the book shut, biting on the corner of your pillow as you squeeze at the squishy fabric, squirming under the feeling of your impending orgasm, muffled moans slipping from your stuffed mouth as you feel it crash over you in a wave, eyes squeezing shut so tight you start to see the light. 

The comedown is slow, rolling over onto your back and silently slipping the book under your pillow and the guilt you usually feel is filled with nothing. You were empty, thoughts filling with vague images of someone, a man—faceless, but if you dug hard enough you’d know. 

So, you do. 

And with his face comes something you felt so often but pushed away.

Desire.

And for the one person you know you shouldn’t. 

—

The move takes place a few days later, endless hours spent packing boxes and putting the rest away in storage, several trips back and forth from the apartment to Joel’s house.

You often had to remind yourself it wasn’t Tommy’s. It was Joel’s—but Tommy was his brother and he wasn’t going to turn him away, so if there was anyone to respect, it was Joel.

The house had three bedrooms; Joel’s, the one Tommy and your mother would share, and the room with a door painted purple and covered in various things. Butterflies, flowers—it was off-limits and you didn’t attempt to make anyone budge on that matter. It was a sore spot for both of the Miller brother’s and when Joel offers up the attic, you’re quick to take it.

He’d even taken the time to make it somewhat liveable. A fresh coat of white paint, storage for clothes and some of your belongings you’d decided to bring along, a space for your bed and plenty of the furniture you couldn’t part with. Besides, it was nice having a level away from everyone else.

“The ladder does get stuck from time to time,” Joel admits as he stands a few feet away from you, watching as you look around curiously, “so, just give a holler. Hopefully one of us’ll be home if that happens.”

You laugh softly, dropping your bag to the floor and crouching, unzipping it and reaching in for a very specific item, pressing it into Joel’s hands as he’s expecting. His fingers curl around the side of the book and there’s an unspoken tension that fades as he speaks.

“Our secret, alright?” Joel’s eyes don’t leave yours, waiting for the confirmation of a nod.

You nod meekly, “She’d kill me, you know? I mean, not physically, but I’m sure she’d have an opinion on it.”

Joel nods in understanding, “Like I said, our secret.”

And given how rough the day was on everyone and once your bed was finally assembled in your room, you find yourself passing out without a moment of idle thinking, the exhaustion taking you the moment your body hits the sheets.

You wake up when the day has already gone, crickets chirping outside and the distant buzz of street lights outside the window above your bed. It’s dead silent in the house otherwise, aside from the hum of the central air and fan tucked in the corner of the room. You roll over and tap at your phone. It was a few minutes from midnight, one day fading into the next without waiting for you to catch up.

You rise groggily and rub at your tired eyes, placing your feet on the hardwood floor before deciding to take a walk down to the kitchen, feeling the dryness of your mouth as you licked at your lips. You’re careful as you open the entrance to the attic and lower the ladder, careful and quiet footsteps as you make your way down and close it, surprised at the growing hum and voices coming from the living room.

You edge close, soft and gentle footsteps as you pry the cabinet open and reach for a clean glass and turn on the faucet, filling it up halfway with water—that’s when you hear the hmph that warns you that you weren’t alone, spotting Joel turning over his shoulder to look at you. 

He seemed half-asleep too and you suspect he fell asleep on the couch, insomnia or exhaustion getting the better of him, you offer a quiet apology as you sip at the water.

“You’re alright,” He assures, rubbing two hands over his face and through his grown out locks, curling around the side of his neck and around his ears, “I was heading to bed anyways.”

Unlikely, you think. 

“What are you watching?” You speak softly, arms crossed your chest as the glass cup dangles from your fingertips, bare thighs pressing against the edge of the couch and Joel adjusts slightly, subconsciously making room for you. 

“Dawn of the Wolf,” Joel answers through a long yawn, “you seen it before?”

You tilt your head with a raised eyebrow, “Joel, come on—”

“Right,” He chuckles tiredly, “It’s some cheesy action movie I’ve seen a thousand times, it’s a—sometimes I just throw it on for background noise, hate sleepin’ in silence, you know?”

“Could you make it a thousand and one?” You ask curiously.

The bed he was heading toward was suddenly forgotten, watching as you eagerly climbed over the side of the couch and curled up on your own cushion, smiling slightly as he reached for the remote and started the movie over.

“Were you actually heading to bed?” You ask as the opening credits begin to play, “Because, if you were I won’t be offended—”

“I mean, I could. Probably need to, the havoc this couch does on my back.”

You offer a kind but lazy smile, half of your mouth arching up, “Besides, I’d ask way too many questions.”

Joel never does move, though. Almost like he’s resigned himself to that position until the movie was over, watching you occasionally with that familiar glaze over your eyes. It was the last movie he’d watched with Sarah before she passed, a few weeks shy of her fifteenth birthday.

By now, it was more of a foolproof method to help him sleep.

It was mostly poorly choreographed fight scenes and a dialogue heavy relationship between the two main characters that progressed unrealistically fast, forcing a laugh behind your palm after the male character professed his love after two days of knowing the other character and even Joel shakes his head at that. But, as the penultimate point of the movie comes, it hits a peak.

They’re sitting around a fire, obvious and unspoken tension lingering that snaps in an instant, one touch on the other and they’re on each other—Joel leans forward, reaching for the remote to skip past the scene, “No, don’t,” You tell him gently, your hand pressing against his palm.

The remote loosens in Joel’s grip and he settles, feet crossed over the coffee table.

Your head tilts, “It doesn’t even come across real,” You comment, “or believable, I guess.”

The sex—or lack thereof, a swarm of lust-filled gazes and strategically placed camera angles. It was mostly heavy pants and moans and Joel coughs into his balled fist to break the silence. You snicker softly and pull your legs up near your chest, head resting against your hand as you watch.

“Probably because it doesn’t work like that,” Joel comments after a while, pulling your attention to him suddenly, “sometimes it’s just—”

“Fucking,” You answer crudely, “for the sake of fucking.”

Joel looks like he wants to keel over, his face contouring in surprise as the words slip past your lips. It’s a sight, a matching set of pajamas he’s sure your mother gifted you, covered in some pattern that mimics the innocence that lies within you, a soft pastel color on satin fabric and that definitive cross that dangled at the center of your neck, slipping just between the press of your breasts—and yet, here you were, speaking to him like sin incarnate. 

“What?” It was amusing, in a way, “I got a strict mom, doesn’t make me a total prude.”

“Okay,” Joel feels the line drawing itself in the sand, or in this case, the middle of the couch, “you’re right—but we can move on from that.”

You offer a soft hum of acknowledgement, smiling at the way Joel continues to shake his head, biting back his own amusement in response.

Somewhere between there and the end of the movie, you both end up asleep on the couch, your feet tucked away in Joel’s lap and his hand resting over your ankles. It was easier falling asleep knowing Joel was near, oddly enough.

—

Things are set into motion very quickly after the first couple days. With wedding planning in full swing and your mother returning to her night shifts at the hospital, it was a sudden newfound freedom that you’d never experienced. Tommy and Joel were gone often too, sometimes for days at a time to work on site, only popping in every so often for little things. Showers, food, before they were back out for another twelve or so hours.

And with your semester of college over, you were left with the void of summer to fill up your time. It does take some convincing, but eventually your mother isn’t hovering as hard. Truthfully, you could thank Tommy for some of that.

“She’s not even a teenager anymore, she’ll be alright.”

It didn’t ease any of the restrictions she put on you in the past and it didn’t make you feel any better for feeling like you had to lie, hide—doing normal things that even if she did as a young girl, would find any reason to shame you over.

But, you were thankful with her infatuation over Tommy because it gave you a break.

Late nights at the beach with friends or last minute trips to the drive-in, it was a sorrowful peek at what you could have had for years, but only had the luxury of exploring recently, somehow always ten steps behind, still feeling that familiar strum of nervousness run through your body at the sight of a crush, somehow even more unavoidable now.

And Joel, well he hasn’t helped either.

Eventually, his own curiosity gets the better of him and he does read the book. His reader’s perched on his nose as he leaned back in the recliner, knowing that if he’s caught onto your schedule well-enough, you’d find yourself downstairs within the next few minutes.

You blamed the insomnia, but you always liked Joel’s company. At night, without the scrutinizing gaze of your mother when she was around, it was easier. 

You’re spreading peanut butter on a plate of sloppily sliced apples when you hear Joel flipping through the page of a book, the cover obscured by the knee he had propped up to lean it on.

“Anything interesting?” You ask casually, screwing the top back on the jar of peanut butter and leaning up on your toes to return it to the top shelf, ignorant to the eyes that catch your backside and the stretch of your top as it exposed your ass and the small piece of your underwear that peaked over the waistband of your shorts. 

You could blame it on the heat and that was partly the reason, but Joel notices the longer you settle in, the more comfortable you get, the conservativeness becomes less and less. It was subtle, shirt pulling up over your midriff or the collar of your shirt dipping a little lower than usual.

This time it was the shorts that hugged your ass and gave him an idea of every curve your body had been hiding and he felt his throat closing up at the thought, clearing it instinctively.

Joel sips on his beer, nursing it more like, as he shrugs and flips to the next page.

You’re curious, sliding the plate into your palm and making your way toward him, finger sliding over the cover and lifting it. Joel doesn’t stop you, but he rolls his eyes at the grin that breaks out on your face, tongue pressing into your cheek and you know–he knows.

“Good, isn’t it?” 

If he only knew how many times you found yourself knuckle deep inside of your cunt with a whisper of a sigh on your lips, shame for the obscure pictures of the characters slowly morphing into him—it wasn’t like you had tried for that, your own subconscious betraying you. 

Something in the bridge of your words and the look on your face has him pushing his glasses up his forehead and into his hair, swiping an apple off your plate and into the thick peanut butter before he’s shoving the fruit into his mouth and biting into it with a loud crunch.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” You smirk, walking backwards slowly until your calves hit the couch and you took a seat, turning it to a random channel playing some televised drama, legs stretched out in front of you and the gentle slope of your shoulders on display as you shoved the apple slice past your lips, licking up the remnants of peanut butter on your finger and Joel almost forgets what he’s doing, feeling the book slip from his hands and hit the glass bottle still half full, sending it pooling into his lap and you look over with a tickled expression. “Too much, I guess?”

“You’re a little shit, you know,” Joel comments as he tosses the book aside and departs quietly, bedroom door shutting behind him as he turns in for the night. There wasn’t an ounce of bite in his tone.

Joel doesn’t know what he expected of you—maybe something more docile, but you were anything but as time grew on and you realized that under the obvious distraction that your mother was dealing with, you found yourself pushing that line more and more.

There’s a particular night when an argument with your mother ends up with Tommy and Joel getting caught in the blowback of it, leaving both of the men at a loss for words. It was the first time they had seen the real, full extent of a meltdown from your mother. Tommy had seen glimpses, blips—but, Joel. It was a first.

It started over a simple question, harmless.

“It’s one dinner—I’ll be there and back before midnight. I don’t see the big deal?”

“Big deal? Honey, we’ve got plans tomorrow. Dress shopping, cake tasting—I was cooking a nice dinner tonight that we could all enjoy, as a family. Seein’ as we’re all somehow, by the grace of god, under this damn roof at the same time for once. And you leavin’ looking like that? I don’t think so.”

Family. Joel seems to find distaste in the word, his eyes flicking toward his brother briefly. He doesn’t understand her final point either, jean shorts and a tank top in the humid Austin heat in the middle of June seemed like a perfectly reasonable option, but it clearly struck a nerve.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” You counter, “I mean, this is Joel’s house, after all. Shouldn’t I ask him for permission?” You turn to him, a low blow at your mother, “Joel, do you care if I—”

Joel hesitates for half a second and you thought he might answer.

A sharp, but swift blow to your cheek has you stopping cold, eyes pulling up to anywhere but your mother and of course, they land on Joel who’s jaw is clenched so tight you think it might snap, matching Tommy’s shocked expression but Joel's was laced with an undertone of rage, simmering slowly.

There was nothing but silence, shoving past her with a charge of your shoulder and then past Tommy who has just enough time to side-step and catch your mother as she turns after you, the realization of her actions settling with her, her open hand balling into a closed fist before she drops it.

Joel was quickly discovering that this living situation was a lot more than he’d bargained for.

–

Tommy had taken your mother out for the night, rented out a hotel after dinner and allowed her the space to cool down but Joel had stayed up, mostly in anticipation that you had forgotten the spare key he’d given you in the quick flee, walking halfway down the block and then some, desperately waiting for your friends to swoop in and save you.

It was just supposed to be dinner at the local diner in town, but catching up with a classmate you hadn’t seen in weeks quickly turned into a night drive that reached well past midnight, eventually pulling out front of Joel’s house, receiving the less than gentle kiss the boy had been building up to all night.

Joel hears the low roar of the engine outside of his house, lowering the volume on the television as he walked toward the door and glanced through the window, fingers curling the small curtain that covered it and there’s a moment where he decides—do something or do nothing, but even then he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

Not as you lean over the console of the car and into the lap of the faceless person in the driver’s seat, his hand all over you—Joel knows, you’re hoping that your mother would catch, that she’d end up more furious than she was earlier and then some.

The horn beeps as you fumble inside the car, the heat of the moment broken as your back dug into the steering wheel and his breath was hot against your neck and suddenly you wanted nothing to do with this, watching the glow of television through the front window of Joel’s home, knowing he was awake.

There’s a shadow that crosses the window and confirms your suspicion—you weren’t ever truly free, there was always someone watching. Joel seemed like the likely suspect and that was worse than your mother when you actually took the time to think it over.

The departure is quick, shoes scuffing against the pavement as you meet the front door, jiggling with the doorknob before it’s being opened from the other side.

Joel’s eyes follow you as you walk inside, toeing your shoes off near the door and finding that you don’t even have the energy to make a remark at him, nothing funny, nothing snide. You look over your shoulder briefly and find him watching, not so much staring, but he was following your movements. You’re right around the corner as he finally speaks and you stop, closing your eyes as you take a slow, deep breath.

“She’s not home,” He informs you, “left with Tommy about an hour ago.”

It was unwanted information, unneeded. You mumble an acknowledgement but he’s speaking again when he notices you move, forcing you to turn on your heels and look at him.

“Are you doin’ it to piss her off?” Joel asks. His intention was unclear, whether he was trying to get under your skin or not, but with the rage still lurking in the back of your mind, it takes on a mind of its own.

“What do you care, Joel?”

“She ain’t my favorite person, I think you know that. But, if she’d caught you just know, she’d have your ass—”

“She didn’t,” You retorted. It’s the first time you see Joel frustrated, his brow creasing and the hands at his side slide into his pocket.

“You’re actin’ out,” Joel concludes and there’s a squint of your eyes as they narrow that tells Joel he’s right, “and under my roof—”

“Oh, so that’s what it’s about,” You tell him, arms crossing over your chest as you step toward him, floorboards creaking under bare feet as you approach him, “what—are you gonna punish me then?”

“Not my business,” Joel tells you, “I ain’t like your mother. But you keep doing this, actin’ out. Something bad is gonna happen soon enough.”

“Then—what?” You ask, trying to surmise a path to both please him and shut him up—unfortunately for him, you know just how, “Would you rather me act out with you?”

“Now, that ain’t what I—“

“Make sense, don’t it? My mother would be so grateful you’re keeping your eyes on me, watching after her little girl.”

“I suggest you tone it down,” His voice is different—nothing you’ve heard before and it should scare you, but it doesn’t.

“Or what?” You retort carelessly, “You’ll do it for me?”

There was that face again, jaw clenched. His gaze never left yours, only following you as you grew closer.

“You can teach me all the stuff I’ve missed out on,” You smile slightly, “I mean, you’ve done alright so far.”

He says your name and for a moment, it scares you. But, it was a warning—don’t cross that line, don’t blur it.

“I’m messing with you, Joel.” 

It’s a believable lie, one you can even convince yourself of.

His breath hitches slightly, breathing out through his nose as he nods at your response, “Just, be smarter. Alright?”

Your aggressive approach breaks, offering a sweeter smile as you back away, hands falling to your side. He can see the smear of your gloss at the corner of your mouth, half-tempted to swipe it away and clean you up.

“I will,” You appease, “can I go up to my room now?”

Joel offers a lazy glare of dissonance, not giving you an answer before he’s brushing by, off to his office that you hadn’t been able to spend much time in since the cookout. 

If he could be stubborn, so could you.

—

The tension between your mother doesn’t settle, but she does attempt to be civil. You often thwart off any attempt at a conversation that would lead into anything other than necessary communication. It feels wrong, you know it is—but you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to explain to your mother how you were beginning to believe her so-called beliefs were a complete joke, pushing an insane and untenable rhetoric on you.

Joel isn’t as warm either, keeping his distance beyond the night you had lost your footing with him and slipped, offering him an opening that would lead you both down a dangerous path. It had mostly been a joke but you could never admit to yourself how badly you wanted him to agree. The idea of it.

There is a point where under almost constant supervision of one of them, all of them flitting out of the house at some time or another, that you find a window (figuratively and physically) to sneak out of, preparing yourself for a night that your mother would have shamed you about until you found yourself six feet under. It was hypocrisy, actually–knowing your mother was doing similar things at an even younger age, with much less mindful thinking. 

And you might have pushed it a little too hard when you reach the front door that night, the floor spinning as you fumbled with the lock again—though, of course, Joel was saving the day.

“Do you ever sleep?” You gripe, eyes squinting as you stumble inside and out of your shoes with a wobbly wave of your arms, reaching out blindly for anything but finding nothing, almost tumblring over the motion but Joel is catching your arm silently, holding you upright. 

He knows that smell, you reek of sweet alcohol and cheap booze.

“I was makin’ sure you got home,” Joel admits, “that a crime?”

“Yes,” You slur softly, “and crime—” You giggle slightly, stumbling closer and pressing your hand into his chest to steady yourself, “means punishment.”

Joel looks down carefully, watching your fingers curl over the collar of his shirt and the sensation of your body, warm and so soft as it pressed against his own.

“Unless, you’d rather punish me,” You offer, the deep buzz of alcohol inflicting your mind and thought process as you pull at his shirt, feeling the stitching rip slightly under your grip and you make a delighted noise, instantly leaning forward to press your lips to his neck.

Joel should’ve pulled you away minutes ago, but again, he’d allowed it to go a step too far.

A step closer to breaking—closer to complete corruption.

Joel wraps his hand around the back of your neck and squeezes, pulling you back easily despite your desperate grip, eyes blown out and wide as you peer up at him, so dazed he isn’t even sure it’s you talking.

“You can,” You admit, mouth parting open as you lick your lips, “I want you too, Joel.”

Joel’s nostrils flare as he forces your hands away more sternly, throwing them at your side until the dejected look forms on your face, stumbling back sadly.

“You need to sleep this off,” Joel tells you

But, you already have the idea in mind as you shove him away, stepping around him awkwardly until you can reach the couch, your limbs falling lazily against the cushion as you curl up, hazy gaze meeting his one final time before you eyes close and for once, Joel fides security in his room and tries to calm his rapidly beating heart—a mix of worry and guilt, knowing if he’d had enough alcohol and inhibition in his system he wouldn’t be as strong, given so easily into that temptation as you had.

But, if routine proved you right, it wouldn't be the last time you’d speak to him that night.

—

Joel was a creature of habit.

The nights that he is able to sleep have been few and far between and he can hear you moving around upstairs, early hours of the morning when he’s in and out of an exhausted daze and in your own similar nature, he hears it. There’s a creak and slow footsteps that traverse the floor above him, but there was no world where he could face you right now. He’s not sure when you decided to move upstairs that night, a curious but lucrative thought in the back of his mind.

Do you remember?

He spends the last hour flexing his achy fingers to distract him from the subtle ache in his pants.

Joel wasn’t a father anymore, the part of him was buried away and long-forgotten, the pieces of that part of him dissolved away through the years of tears and alcohol and constant repression. 

Watching after her little girl.

It’s asinine, knowing you were anything but. He had no intentions of being that sort of figure over you, you didn’t need watching—or guidance from him, even. A protector? Maybe, but that wasn’t his job either.

Keeping your eyes on me.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, in fact. And as the realization clicks, he knows he’s fucked.

He’s barricading himself in the bathroom before he puts himself through the suffering of another nightly conversation with you, especially after how things had left off hours before, turning on the shower in a hurry as he hears the latch to the attic release and your impending arrival.

He strips, pulling his shirt up from the center of his back and over his shoulders, working hastily at his jeans and climbing into the shower, palms pressed against the tile wall in front of him as the stinging, hot water hits his back and soothes the soreness that lingering in his joints. It did nothing for his cock which had gone from half-hard in his jeans to standing proud, insistently.

He couldn’t ignore it—and he knows under the safety of the constant stream of water, muffling out the ragged sigh that escapes his lips as he fists his cock in a tight grip—he hasn’t ached like this in years, knowing he was well past his prime, in his mind. 

Unfortunately, the unraveling of it all would come down to the slippery lock on the bathroom door. It only stuck half of the time, eventually worming its way out of place and leaving the steam to slip through the cracks, but Joel is oblivious.

You find your footing as you step off the ladder, still reeling from your drunken stupor as you make your way down the hall, spotting the faint flickering of a light from the bathroom that told you Joel still hadn’t changed that lightbulb, but also that he was in there—it couldn’t be anyone else. You only vaguely remember your actions from earlier, but you didn’t forget the look on his face—the frustration. The want. Your footsteps are quiet, praying feverishly that they wouldn’t creak under the pressure of your feet as you peek your head into the crack, eyes scanning the mirror placed over the sink and suddenly, they stop.

Freeze, more like.

The shower curtain is shifted back just enough that you catch the front of his chest, so broad that it doesn’t even capture the full width of him, muscles in his shoulders straining as your eyes follow the length of his arm and down, until your eyes connect with the sight of his cock, fisted in his hand as he jerked himself earnestly, unabashedly with impatience. His head is hung too, water damping his hair over his forehead and obscuring his face.

You can hear him, though. God, you could fucking hear him.

His knuckles curl into the tile wall where his other hand still rest, balling into a fist as he punched it out of frustration, grunting with how tightly he was squeezing himself and the pace at which he was fucking his fist. 

It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen such a sight, but with Joel it was bigger, intimidating—in every sense of the word.

His cock, for one, was larger than any you’ve seen before.

And with shame, your mouth watered at the sight. 

His groans, a gentle guh that sounds like a prayer of something else but is strangled, his movements becoming jerky as his speech becomes slightly clearer, “God—fuckin’,” He heaves, the sound of wet skin and water under the speed of his movement, “—girl, always testin’ me.”

You swallow at the mention, fingers curling dangerously around the door frame—one misstep, one slip and you’d swing that door right open, revealing yourself. 

He leans his head up suddenly, eyes closed as his arm works furiously. Your ears are locked on his face now and you see the way his lips form around your name as he utters it, so quiet you barely hear it but it was you. There was no mistaking that.

He comes a few moments later, his thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock and circling as he shot his load into his palm, knowing that he could make a mess if he wanted to but decided not to, using his slick covered hand to drag over his cock a few more times as it softened in his hand.

Fortunately, you’re long gone by the time he’s reaching for a towel, back upstairs like you’d never even been there in the first place.

There was no denying it now, though. It wasn’t in your head—the temptation was real, tangible, and just within reach. 

Because with that temptation came doubt, followed by mistakes.

And really, you wish you were strong enough to resist.

Unfortunately, you weren’t. So, you plan. 

He was already a broken man, but you needed him shattered.

-

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

[johnbrand]

Fathering Normality

“And then I just shoved it right in!”

Luke grunted as he thrust forward, drawing a laugh out of his friend Colton. Luke had been recounting the entire night before to him, going over every detail. How it started as a boner, how that boner led him to a bar, how that bar led him to rubbing up against some girl, and how that girl led him to shooting multiple loads directly into her tight pussy.

“It was exhilarating!” Luke recalled, the natural masculinity giving his voice a gruff, dense texture. “And all I can think about now is…doing it again…and again!”

Luke thrusted once more, trying to relieve the pressure building up in his thick cock. Colton could not help but happily smile along with his friend, very familiar with the experience of breeding a woman himself. In fact, his girlfriend had recently found out she was pregnant. When Colton had first received the news, he had been ecstatic. When Luke had received the news from Colton days later, he had not been.

Just a week ago, Colton and Luke had been in the same positions; Luke dramatically recounting some tale while Colton laid back and listened. Although, that time had been more violent. “What do you mean she’s pregnant?” Luke cried. “What are you two going to do? You’re too young, neither of you have secured jobs. We all just barely graduated from college a few years ago!”

Argument after argument flew by, but eventually Colton could not handle it anymore. His friend was supposed to be supportive, happy for the couple as they were with the situation. Then a strange thought came to Colton’s head–maybe Luke would be more supportive if he was able to see his side of things. 

Colton had shot the bullet directly into Luke’s head without hesitation. There was no way his gay friend could have understood the joy of breeding, fertilizing, and bearing fruit other than by being converted to try it himself. Of course, Luke did not remember the sound of the gun firing, dropping to the floor, or his limp body being handed over to local enforcement. Colton did not even think Luke remembered the past version of himself. And now that Colton had met the new model, he hoped he would soon forget too.

Gay Luke had been fun. A little bit on the shorter, skinnier side, but still a ball of energy. He always had a theatrical flair, and he kept himself well-maintained, but he had commitment issues and terrible spending habits. This Straight Luke though, had nearly made the equally heterosexual Colton blush. He was now much taller, more muscular, with that ball of energy transformed into sheer masculine confidence. Luke still held that capacity to put on a performance, but now it was powerful and captivating. 

Colton had contacted Luke at the end of the incubation period, not knowing what to expect. Yet he would have never predicted the stacked body-builder in a plain, short-sleeved button-up and dirty jeans appearing at his door. Sure, there were some things Colton felt a little guilty about. Luke’s former luscious locks had thinned out and shortened into a tiny quiff afflicted by male pattern baldness. His hygiene had definitely taken a hit; Colton had smelt the new funk as soon as those massive shoes had come off at the door. But the conversion affected everyone differently, so because Luke appeared obliviously overjoyed with heterosexuality, Colton felt that he could be too.

“So I just started countin’ as I rammed in. ‘One, two,’” Luke continually thrusted to display his point. “And eventually, it had to be like on 15 or 16, I felt that first burst of ecstasy. After that I lost count, I just went into hyper-mode.”

Colton chuckled, getting up to grab us some beers. He tossed one to Luke.

“Thanks bro,” Luke cracked his cold one open. “By the way, what did you call me over for anyway?”

“Oh man, I thought I already told you,” Colton half-lied. “My girl’s pregnant: I’m gonna be a dad.”

Luke’s eyes lit up, “DUDE! That’s awesome! Congratulations!! God, if only I could be so lucky, right?” 

Colton cheered to that, smirking at the possibility. He had been right when he had chosen to father normality. Thanks to him, one could metaphorically say he would soon be fathering twice the amount of children as a result of Luke’s conversion.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Felix Catton x reader where he invites reader to Saltburn and he confesses his love to her. Super fluffy 🫶🏻😩

This was long as shit! But I hope you like it! 🦦

You honestly thought Felix was taking the piss upon extending you an invitation to spend the summer at Saltburn. You even waited for Farleigh to come out of nowhere to make his usual passive aggressive commentary in regard to your seemingly gullible nature, but nothing.

No Farleigh.

None of Felix’s little posse of posh cunts were nearby to poorly conceal their laugher behind their hands.

It was just you and Felix sat upon a stone bench somewhere, to which you must’ve looking like an right idiot, with your mouth opening and closing like an goldfish in disbelief at what you were hearing. ‘So what do you say?’ Felix asked after a prolonged period of awkward silence, looking as though a little on the verge of imploding at any given moment.

You blinked once, twice, then a third time for good measure before clearing your throat. ‘Yeah, sure…I’d love to but why me-‘ your sentence was cut off when Felix let out a relieved sigh as his mouth stretched into a smile, revealing his pearly whites, also as though he was…happy that you had accepted his invite; A reaction that naturally caused you to become curious as to figure out the reason why.

‘Oh thank fuck, you almost had me second guessing that you weren’t going to come.’ He said, looking at you with eyes that seemed to be reading your entire being, reading your each and every breath with such attention; so much that you swore it was as akin to that of a creator admiring his first creation. You -much like everyone else at Oxford- were very familiar with the stories that came with the supposed friends Felix had taken to Saltburn; they go to Saltburn, things seemingly get weird and the friendship is tarnished, then by summer’s end Felix next speaks with them again.

Used and discarded within the same breath.

You soon came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to be the next discarded toy on Felix’s long list of broken things. It would’ve been better had Felix kept his distance and stayed with his little posse, but he didn’t and now you were riddled with the endless possibilities that laid ahead of you. ‘Would’ve been a real shame if I did.’ You said, hyper aware of the fact that Felix was still staring intently at you. ‘But I’m glad you didn’t.’ He says softly, taking one last puff of his cigarette before its dying embers dwindled down to the bud, tossing it aside carelessly once it’s use has been served.

‘So am I.’ You replied, looking away from him and elsewhere as you pondered to yourself what you had gotten yourself into and what terrors would await for you at Saltburn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your first couple of days at Saltburn were okay to say the least.

Well that was mostly because Felix insisted that you’d spend the most of it together. So no matter where it was that you went through the manor, Felix was never far behind, looking over you like a protective shadow.

The pool? a shirtless Felix was sat poolside with a cigarette handing loosely from his lips, reflective shades concealing his dark eyes that you could feel shamelessly drinking you in as you dipped a toe.

The living room? Felix was there with a selection of movies and snacks that he retrieved from the kitchen along with comfy blankets.

The library? Felix was there reading a book that went over the treatment of women in Greek myths.

Bathroom? Felix was also there because upon giving you a grand tour of the intimidating building, he had informed you that you were to share a bathroom, instead of having you journey to the other side of the house to occupy another one.

You even remembered one time where you were deeply engaged in a topic with the likes of Farleigh and Venetia about Felix’s recent attitude towards you, with you being in denial and Farleigh and Venetia trying to make you see reason; When Felix came into the room as though looking for something, and upon seeing the three of you together, his jaw began to clench. It wasn’t until that very moment did you begin to take note of how Felix’s reluctance in having to share you with anyone else, and how it was staring to look something similar to a stubborn child who refused to share what he thought rightfully belonged to him.

‘Told you.’ Farleigh said with a winning smirk after Felix left the room in a huff. ‘He doesn’t want to share you with the rest of us, he only wants you for himself…and in more ways than one.’ He adds on, obviously knowing something that you didn’t.

‘What do you mean by that Farleigh?’ You had tried to ask but all he did was shrug nonchalantly and cryptically said, ‘you’ll see soon enough.’

You guessed you understood where Felix was coming from, I mean you did come here because of him, so naturally you were meant to be spending most of your time with him. However with what Farleigh had said earlier, you couldn’t help but theorise that there was a much deeper reasoning for Felix to have invited you to Saltburn; A theory that would later be put to the test when you were getting ready to go to bed, pulling back the covers just enough for you to slip in with ease, when a knocking at your door caught your ear.

‘Y/n. You in there? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something recently and it couldn’t wait any longer.’ It was Felix. Your brows furrowed at this, what could he possibly want to talk about in the middle of the night?

As to not keep him waiting any longe then he might’ve been before knocking on your door. You quickly made your way to the door -though not before making sure you looked presentable- and opened it to see Felix stood in your doorway in his sleepwear, which consisted of a short sleeve shirt and a pair of blueish gray boxers, as his dark hair looked ruffled as though he had just been vigorously running his hands through it just minutes prior.

Either way he still looked extraordinarily appealing to the eye. However that was just how Felix looked to near enough everyone; extraordinarily delectable.

‘What conversation could possibly be so hard for you to not wait until tomorrow to have?’ You asked, brows raised, wanting nothing more than to put an end to all the mental gymnastics you’ve put yourself through within the past couple days; It got exhaustive after a while and his childish antics of giving you the cold shoulder didn’t make matters any better.

‘Look, I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you recently.’ Felix began.

‘A bit?’ You echoed, slightly annoyed. ‘Felix you wouldn’t even look at me when I went to the pool, which if I remember correctly,’ you placed a finger on your chin, faking a face of deep thought before clicking your fingers and leaning in towards him, ‘you invited me to earlier that same day.’ You concluded dryly. ‘So how about you explain that before whatever you wanted to talk about, just so I’m given more of a clear picture as to where we stand.’

‘Fuck. I fucked up.’ Felix sighed under his breath as he ran his hand down his face, his dark eyes peering down the elongated hallway in hopes that no one -Farleigh- would come out and see what was all the commotion about, before they returned to look into yours and decided to just skip the words he was planning on telling you and just get straight to the point; long winded speeches of love was never his thing when he could just be straightforward about it. After all he was Felix fucking Catton, but it seemed that just being in your presence was enough to leave him a little speechless.

‘I like you.’ He began but immeditly felt that like wasn’t the right word to use when putting into words of what you did to him. ‘No, that don’t sound right because at the end of the day y/n, I fucking love you.’ Felix corrects himself and you immeditly felt the anything that you wanted to say to him exit your brain, as his sudden declaration took its place as the only thing that you could clearly focus on. ‘I brought you to Saltburn in hopes that one day I would stop being such a pussy and tell you how I truly felt.’ Felix then looked saddened as he continued. ‘Yet it seems that the only thing I’ve managed to accomplish is pushing you away because I thought that you wouldn’t want me like that, and would try to drive that home by spending time with Farleigh and Venetia.’ By the time Felix had finished pouring his heart out to you, everything leading up to this very moment started making a lot more sense, even Farleigh’s cryptic response made sense.

This entire time Felix was planning on confessing and Farleigh knew, which meant Venetia must’ve knew and therefore his parents considering how upon meeting them, they seemingly knew everything about you in incredible detail. You knew Felix was a bit of a blabber mouth under certain circumstances, but you didn’t ever think that he would ever rant to his parents about you in the slightest and in a positive light too. Though it did feel a little odd at first when Elspeth complimented your eyes but now you knew why and you couldn’t help but be flattered; Felix is a handsome and beautiful man that to be viewed within the same perspective was a new feeling entirely.

‘Really?’ You asked, biting the inside of your cheek, praying this wasn’t an extremely realistic dream.

‘Really.’ Felix replied without hesitation, beaming as he brazenly took a step towards you.

‘You’re not fucking with me?’ You asked again, still somehow not finding any of this remotely real, now bitting down on your bottom lip this time.

Felix stepped even closer to you now that you could feel his body heat, his hand gently holding you by the chin as his thumb gingerly pried your bottom lip from your teeth before then moving his head so that it was resting against your own, forcing you to focus on the dark pair of eyes that looked right back at you in a way that one would a masterpiece. ‘I’m not fucking with you.’ He spoke in a low but soft tone of voice. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful and the most amazing person I have ever met. You’re genuine, you’re kind but most importantly, you’re real and I both envy and adore you for that.’ Felix finishes and you couldn’t help but groan with impatience.

‘You could’ve conveyed all that if you would’ve kissed me.’ You whined, hands finding their home within his hair, raking and slightly tugging at the tresses, making him laugh. ‘As you wish.’ He utters cheekily as he then descends his lips upon yours in a passionate kiss that conveyed everything that had been said and more.

[willowsnook]

off limits

joe burrow! x kelce sibling?????????

joe burrow x kelce!sister

Being Jason and Travis Kelce’s little sister meant that a life in the spotlight came naturally, and you took advantage of it. Let’s be real, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to be an influencer when it was served on a silver platter?

Once your brothers’ fames skyrocketed, you started getting hit up by brands for different sports-related shoots and loved it. Plus, after Kylie started her own podcast, she asked you to co-host with her. You were happy to help her bring more female audiences into sports, along with the aid of a hopefully future sister-in-law of yours. You also garnered a lot of male attention; the Kelce genes were certainly attractive, so much to your brothers’ irritation, you were constantly hit on on social media.

The most amusing guy that hit on you was Joe Burrow. You had met him a handful of times over the years but never really hung out; that didn’t stop him from constantly sliding up on your Instagram stories.

You look good. In Cincy soon? 🥵

You replied lazily every once in a while, but it made you laugh considering he would never say that stuff publicly because of your very overprotective brothers. You knew they both liked Joe a lot, but would they like him sliding into their little sister’s DMs? Probably not.

New Heights was filming a show in Cincinnati, and Not Gonna Lie was like the opener for it. You were excited, as this was the first live show you would be a part of and admittedly were a little curious to see a certain quarterback who was a guest. Time to see if his actions lived up to his words.

You landed in Cincinnati the day of the event, and it was a tad warmer than what Philly was currently like, so you were already enjoying the spring sunshine. You spent the day exploring the city before heading to the arena for a bunch of pre-show things before the evening. Kylie was wearing Jason’s jersey, so you decided to match the jersey vibe but wanted to stir the pot with Joe with your choice. You had gone to the University of Oklahoma for school and hung out with some of the players often during your time there, so it was easy to get someone to hook you up with an Orlando Brown Jr. jersey for the event. He was the other guest on the podcast tonight and one of Joe’s teammates.

The jersey hit mid-thigh, so you just opted for a pair of Nike pros underneath, paired with high boots.

“They are going to kill you,” Kylie said, amused after you came out of the changing room.

“You think so?” you asked innocently, giving her a twirl. She whistled loudly, making you laugh.

“Also, why the Orlando jersey?” she asked, and you shrugged.

“He went to OU,” you told her, and she smirked.

“So, nothing to do with someone else in your DMs?”

You flipped her off and headed into the hospitality area to grab something to drink. You already regretted telling her about how often Joe was DMing you.

As you entered the hospitality area, you immediately locked eyes with Joe Burrow himself. His gaze traveled from your face down to your jersey, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. You couldn't help but smirk as you watched his expression change from shock to amusement.

"Well, well, well," Joe drawled, sauntering over to you with a cocky grin. "I see you're repping the wrong player tonight."

You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes. "Oh? I thought I was supporting the Bengals. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "You know exactly what you're doing, Kelce."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Burrow," you replied sweetly, grabbing a bottle of water from the refreshment table.

He leaned in close, his cologne washing over your senses, and you tried your best to remain unaffected, meeting his stare head-on.

“You trying to make me jealous isn’t going to work?” he said cockily, and you smirked.

“Oh yeah?” you asked. “How do you know I don’t actually respond to his DMs?”

The look of confidence dropped off his face, and you smirked wider, patting his shoulders as you moved past him and to your brothers. They both noticed as you came over and immediately gave identical disapproving looks.

“Absolutely not.” “Change.” they said at the same time. You rolled your eyes, looking to Kylie for help, who was shaking her head, amused by the situation.

“I think she looks great,” Orlando said, coming up, and you beamed. “Good to see you, y/n, love the jersey.”

“Thanks, O,” you said, hugging him in greeting.

“I think she should change too,” Joe said from behind you. “A little showy.”

“Are you calling my sister a slut?” Jason deadpanned, and you covered your mouth to hide your giggles as Joe paled.

“Nn-no,” he stuttered out. “She might get cold.”

That made you laugh out loud, and you felt bad for him, so you stepped up in his defense.

“He’s just mad I’m not wearing his jersey,” you told them, but that didn’t take the suspicious look off Jason’s face.

“Do you two even know each other that well?” he asked, and you smirked up at Joe, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

“Yeah, Joey, why don’t you tell them how often we talk?” you teased, and he glared down at you before mumbling that he needed to make a call. Your brothers eyed you warily after he left, but you just shrugged.

The show went off without a hitch, and you found yourself enjoying every moment of it. The energy from the live audience was electric, and you felt a rush of excitement as you bantered with Kylie and people in the crowd, especially during the Q&A.

Throughout the show, you couldn't help but notice Joe's eyes constantly flicking towards you. Every time you caught his gaze, he'd quickly look away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. It was endearing, really, how this confident quarterback seemed so flustered around you.

The last question you got was who your prediction was for the MVP this year. You shot a look towards Joe, who was watching you intently, before answering with a smirk.

“I’m gonna have to go with Lamar,” you said to the boos of the Cincinnati audience. “I know, I know, I just think it’s his year. Unless I’m missing someone…”

You mocked being confused, looking around until you met Joe’s eyes and shot him a wink.

“Thank you, Cincy!” Kylie called out, and the two of you headed off stage to watch your brothers from the backstage area. They were amazing as always, and once everything was wrapped up, the whole crew headed out to a nearby bar to celebrate.

As you waited to order a drink, you felt a presence behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Joe.

"Lamar, huh?" he murmured, his breath tickling your ear.

You suppressed a shiver, keeping your eyes forward. "What can I say? I like a man who can run."

Joe chuckled, the sound low and warm. "I can run too, you know."

"Oh really?" you teased, finally turning to face him. "I thought you were more of a pocket passer."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm full of surprises, Kelce. Maybe you should give me a chance to show you."

You raised an eyebrow, a challenge in your voice. "Is that so? And how do you propose to do that?"

Joe leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Come home with me tonight.”

“Hmm,” you said, contemplating. “Might have to ask for my brother’s permission first.”

He rolled his eyes at your teasing, putting both arms against the bar, caging you in.

“Very funny.”

“I think so,” you countered, eyes sparkling with amusement. “What would going home with Joe Burrow even really entail?”

Bringing his lips to your ear, he whispered, “Well, first of all, I would take my time, cutting that filthy jersey off of you.”

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine. You tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how affected you were.

"That's a shame," you murmured, your voice slightly breathy. "I quite like this jersey."

Joe's eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly to look at you. "I'll buy you a new one. A better one."

You couldn't help but smirk. "Oh? And which jersey would that be?"

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You know exactly which one, y/n."

The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. You were about to respond when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

"Y/n! There you are!" Travis's voice boomed across the bar.

Joe pulled back from you, but you grabbed his arm, pulling him down to tell him something quickly.

“20 more minutes and then we can leave.”

----------------

pt. 2 here

[grievedeeply]

Hello there :) I see you take BG3 requests now, if it’s okay please could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Dammon and Karlach falling for reader who always goes out of her way to help them with anything they need 💙💙

decided to take some liberties with this prompt and expand it out a bit to them just being super helpful overall as a person, but going out of their way to help them in particular lol. hope you enjoy anyways and thanks for the request! sorry if these are short I didn't want to be super repetitive

astarion, gale, wyll, dammon and karlach with a helpful s/o headcanons

astarion

he's used to you being incredibly helpful by now. helping out the tieflings in the grove, helping to rescue halsin from the goblin camp.. it's in your nature, he thinks

and with him, you acted the same. only your behaviors increased tenfold with him

you went out of your way to help him, and he isn't sure of why, really. but you won't see him complaining. the less work he has to do to make it by, the better.. and you seem happy to assist, so why not enjoy it?

you tend to offer your neck up to him whenever he's feeling particularly hungry. it's the first time you do this when astarion really realizes you're always a bit more attentive to him than with anyone else

still, he jumps at the opportunity for a free meal. it's not as though he doesn't appreciate it, but he'll always wonder what's going on in your mind whenever you decide to help him out in that way

he's used to being seductive and a bit flirty.. but he notices that with you it starts to feel different. he hates the thought of falling for you, feeling something real and genuine in that way wasn't exactly a familiar thing to him

but he knows you'd treat him well. after all.. you're already this helpful now. but if you were his? he could only imagine how things could change

gale

he doesn't understand it. why you're so helpful

he's very thankful for your help, but he wonders why you always make the extra time to find an artifact for him. days before he needs his next one, it's already in his hands, ready for consumption and it's always because of you

he doesn't want to overthink it. but he will

do you think that he's not as capable as everyone else? is it just out of the kindness of your heart? whatever the reason, he tries to refuse any unnecessary help

even though he appreciates it, he wants to see you spending more of your attention on yourself. he loves that you care for people and especially him, but he wants you to take care of yourself first and foremost

he realizes he's falling for you relatively quickly. no one else in his life had really looked out for him in the way you have. you're special. you're kind and you're.. lovely, really

he adores you, and he'll return your helpfulness in kind!

wyll

oh... wyll

he's so sweet. he's always looking out for you, just like you are for him. you're so incredibly protective of him, especially when mizora is involved

you're trying to find a loophole in his pact whenever you can, and he realizes he's falling for you as soon as he sees how serious you are about this whole thing

he falls hard. no one else had really shown him this type of care before, and he feels appreciated whenever he's with you. you see him as wyll. not just the blade of frontiers

he sees how much you care about other people, too. he sees your heart and your kindness, and he just adores it. it's hard to come by people as genuine as you. he counts himself lucky to even be in your life at all

dammon

he doesn't think he needs the help

he enjoys your company at the forge. you keep his mind occupied and you keep him talking. sometimes he gets so lost in his work that he forgets to eat or drink

but he still doesn't think he needs your help. he's used to doing everything by himself, and he's not exactly the biggest fan of change

but when you start organizing the materials and metals laid about.. it's really nice. he won't say anything or bring it up at all, but he does notice everything you do for him

you'll make him a snack every now and then. you'll tell him to take breaks— things that he forgets to do sometimes— and spend time with him when you're able to

he likes you. a lot. he doesn't admit it right away, but he knows he does. he feels the ache in his heart. he would be a fool to not like you

he'll tell you eventually. hopefully

karlach

she's beyond appreciative of you in general

you're so sweet. it's a big change from her life with zariel in the hells, so she jumps at the opportunity to talk to you whenever it arises

she notices how you jump to help whenever you can as soon as she meets you. after all, you believed her about the paladins when she was practically a stranger

karlach tells you about her infernal engine, and you're constantly trying to find the infernal iron she needs. wherever you go you're looking for it

it puts a smile on her face, knowing that you care so much about her..

she develops feelings for you pretty quickly. you're kind, you're able to see her as more than a soldier.. and that's more than she's had in a long time

a little unrelated, but she's so happy when she gets to touch you. like... over the moon happy

[nrdmssgs]

sub bottom Nikto?

Masterlist

Love, you find him a nice collar, and he will be searching for an engagement ring on the next morning.

TW: pure smut, no story, edging, orgasm denial.

It takes time, to discover that part of him. Nikto is well aware, what people await of such a beast, and he is happy to deliver. He is good at guiding, edging, punishing - you name it. But somewhere deep, there is another nature of his.

The nature, that makes him hope, that one day you won't ask nicely if you can fuck, oh no. Just tell him, toys don't get a choice, and use his body mercilessly.

And once you realize, Nikto has it in him, he craves to be forced and pampered, taken advantage of and taken care of, your game changes.

The first time you put him on his knees - Andre is a work of art. Dilated pupils, darkened blue irises, mouth open, ragged breaths, tongue running over dry lips. A man of his constitution could easily break you, but this one is at your feet the very next second after 'now be a good thing' leaves your lips.

He is so consumed with devotion to you, that poor thing barely hears your command to stop kissing your knees and licking his way up your thighs. It is only fair to teach him a lesson, isn't it? So you take his privilege of using his mouth by putting his balaclava on him and moving cloth over his lips.

"You keep not listening, and I will have to put the mask as well on you, mhm?" And he nods hastily, as if his silent answer would piss you off, should it come too late.

There is another trait of his, that you will soon discover, when you sit Nikto on a couch and edge him for a long time: he is vocal. Of course, you heard his grunts before, but he expressed half of his pleasure in other ways. Grabbing your hair or clawing into you - these and many more other little things helped him to stay more or less discreet...

But now? After you flooded his poor brain with serotonin so good, that he can't form a single thought? After his body, the one he trained to kill and break things, just shuts down, focusing only on the pleasurable sensations that you induce? After you prohibited him touching you? This swollen throbby mess is whimpering and moaning under your loving hands. Shameless and loud, but he just can help it, when you bring him this close to euphoria, put him in so deep.

"So desperate, so hard," your voice is making him high, "wouldn’t it feel so good to be inside me? Yeah, that’s what you want? If you just take a little more, and don’t come, I’ll let you."

And he clenches his teeth, bites down his tongue, squeezes his eyes shut - does everything in his power to just not come. Nikto can go for hours with you folded under him, but when you are riding him for the first time after you teased him so long? Comes fast, comes loads. He would be embarrassed if he had any introspection capacity now.

Nikto is no more a bundle of control, pain and cruelty that he usually is. All this is crossed out by your protectiveness, possessiveness, adoration and dominance. Your look is a blessing, your gestures are a grace, your touch and tone are his salvation.

He breaks the 'no touch' rule, when you ascend your body from from his veiny throbbing shaft.

"Please! I-I can give more, I will be good, fuck, please, just dont go yet! Chert, proshu tebya!*" His voice is shaky. Not a familiar purr, with which he seduced you earlier, but a throaty, ragged desperate whispers.

You freeze and smile. This absolute beast of a man - all at your mercy.

"You keep your hands behind your head, or I will have to tie you up, Andre." You feel his cock twitching at your words.

You pull his balaclava up, so that his mouth is free, and his eyes are covered now and guide him by the back of his head to face you, as you descend back and finally kiss him for the first time today. This horny animal is still hard, doesn't want a minute to catch a breath.

Maybe it's not right to encourage his disobedience, but right now you don't care.

Chert, proshu tebya! - Fuck, I'm begging you!

[r0-boat]

Hi, have you done Bimet's NSFW Alphabet? If not can you make one please 🙏

Heheh Yes I will gladly make a alphabet headcannon post about one of my favorite characters in the game

Bimet NSFW ALPHABET

Cw: NSFW

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You would be surprised that he is very good at aftercare, He will make you feel so loved and cared for when he's done. I'm talking small kisses all over your body, rubbing sore spots on your body; anything you want, he will gladly give you. A soft side of him that he shows to only two people in his entire lifetime.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He will never admit it, But his favorite part about you is your smile. Not one of those fake smiles either, a genuine smile never fails to brighten his otherwise shit tastic day. As much as he doesn't agree the little things that make you smile. As much as he thinks something so ignificant like a bug or a leaf could make you so happy. He can't help but find that a little endearing please never change.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

All demons in Tartaros are pretty possessive, it's part of their greedy nature. Even though he knows and gets off to the fact that you own everything, he can't help but have the urge to mark his territory with his seed. And you are on you he just has this hunger to claim and make sure you stay claimed that must be quelled.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's got pet fantasies, He wants to be your pet, your concubine anything. Desperately willing to worship you. happily wear a nice little collar around his neck. As much as he likes to argue and poke fun at you as soon as those He's alone with you He's on his knees.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows what he's doing. He takes great pride in pleasuring you And he strives to be the best fuck you'll ever have anything for you. He'll make you feel like a god, a princess, the most important thing in the world.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that's yours, But if you really have to pick He likes looking at his caught going inside you so as long as he can see His cock disappearing inside You're warm walls He's okay

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is more serious, if you try to be goofy he will just start fucking you harder.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This man probably has a 13 steps skin and hair care so of course he's groomed. He prefers to shave and prepare before having sex with you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

One of the rare times he shows his love and affection for you. He genuinely loves spoiling and taking care of you if only you will allow him to do it. Stop Fighting him and accept his pampering broke dumb bitch!!!

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Never masturbated in his life and never needed to. But that was before you. Now he's... Addicted...You've turned him on so much, who knew sex could be so good! He's supposed to be a demon but you corrupted him now he can't get off without you, almost as good as money... Almost.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Roleplay, of any kind in absolute slut for praise kink and degrading.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere luxurious. My guy will Will make reservations for fancy rooms all across hell just to fuck you in them.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Money and you. Wealthy locations, fancy hotels fancy resorts anything. Especially if you're in nice expensive clothing If he tells you he reserved a night out somewhere he's going to fuck you stupid.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anywhere in bathrooms, in the street, definitely not outside, also don't wear anything stupid that's a turn off as well, )no the Bluey socks will not stay on during sex take them the fuck off...)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Giving and receiving! Perhaps even a little bit of a fixation He will taste you all day if you don't stop him. Your cunt/dick tastes so good! And of course he will be watching every little move you make if you bob your head up and down on his cock. Try not to make you choke on it

Fast rough and wild, fucks you like an animal. Fucks you like This is the first time he has sex because in a way this is the first time he enjoyed sex. He knows he fucks you good no matter how much he pisses you off.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Master at quickies he could make you come so hard so fast. Though he rather have you all to himself instead of resort due quickly hiking your leg up to have you, He's greedy like that.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes he experiments, This is the first time he actually enjoyed sex He is going to make the most of it He's going to get freaky Don't judge him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Pent up demons are not something you want to toy with. He lasts for a fucking long time even by demon standards, And he has a quick recovery too. After 5 rounds he will want more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, both him and you. He got some expensive ass toys in his collection somewhere. Some he hasn't even used on you yet some you've never even seen. Started buying them after the first time you had sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

That fucker likes to tease like it's his full-time job He wants to hear you beg and sob and squirm. He'll make you say embarrassing things. And record you doing it just for a keepsake. He knows how to get what he wants and he knows just what strings to pull. He knows how to touch you He knows your body and he will play you like an instrument

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The man is loud, growling grunting whimpering moaning you name it talking degrading praising and whimpering your name..

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Threesomes with You and Mammon had happened before They actually happened more often than you think.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Beautiful big thick and long cut cock. Swollen balls

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fucking ridiculous. He just had a taste of you and he is not willing to let you go.

Wraps in armorandy to pull you closer before cuddling up to you giving your forehead a few kisses before drifting off.

[starryficsfinishwen]

── .✦ doomsday game ; xiangli yao x reader

if the world was ending, would you love me for the hell of it? syn. if, theoretically, the world were to end today, what would you do? if you ask xiangli yao, he wouldn't mind spending the last days on earth with you.

*inspired by 4* zayne card with the same name (love and deepspace)

a.n. - oh god he corrupts me I love him. HAPPY RELEASE DAY XIANGLI YAO!!! As an honor for getting his weap, for now being guaranteed (my S1 Xiangli Yao is glacio and short??), I GIVE THIS FIC AS MY THANK YOU. ALSOHAHSHSHSHS I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THE WRONG FIC IM SORRY BUT HERE IT IS

pairing - xiangli yao x f!rover

words - will edit when I switch to lappy

content warnings - none!! major fluff!! also pre-established relationship

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Potent rumors often plant seeds of disbelief.

It often came as a small white lie, an utterance between two consenting parties. When it reaches the leeching tongue of the birds, they fall to the ground, sprouting things that are weeds to the truth. If left alone, they would deter nature's course.

For example, the rumors somewhat turned into some prophecy— “the world is ending soon”.

How does it end? They say it's a global snowstorm. Maybe another global flood. A supernova collision. No, they definitely said it was an onslaught of active volcanoes erupting to create a flood of lava. Or maybe, some Sentinel wished for immense havoc, with its god-like power awakening to slaughter everything in its path.

However, for scientists like Xiangli Yao, all those claims seem comical.

“The world is ending soon?” A fellow scientist slaps his own knee, “That's complete bull!”

In the middle of the long table of the Academy, what was once a flickering 3D map of Jinzhou was temporarily dimmed; instead, a couple of scientists had gathered, playing cards for their breaktime.

“I know, right? It's too funny; they really think the world is ending so soon.”

One of them throws the card, a chorus of laughter.

“My findings say otherwise,” said a cocky researcher, “The fluctuations isn't very severe. We can live to see another millennia here in our world!”

“The plants and people are still alive and well.” The glimmer of a card catches everyone else's attention, “Very far from the truth indeed.”

One scientist lets out an indignant huff, “But how did they even reach that conclusion? Do they have the data?”

The group pauses for a bit. Some bit their lip, another shuffled their cards, and the other couldn't help but sigh. “Um, proof or not, I think they are still sprouting nonsense.” Muttered the first scientist.

Another eerie silence envelops them. Until one of them throws a card at the center. “The tacet marks have been spreading nonstop...”

They throw another. “TD's are also unstable, giving a major interference to the once-natural resonance cords.”

And when he throws the last trump card, almost all of the players had a grim look on their face. “We are merely just a few months recovering from the Retroact Rain. Our soldiers cannot handle another catastrophe!!”

With a trembling shout from the scientist, everyone else near the group stopped on their tracks. Noticing that the attention was on him, the poor scientist slides back to his chair, embarrassed. Even the ones he was playing with had a gloomy face.

“...Not to diminish our pride but...who knows...what happens to Jinzhou...not to mention our Sentinel and Magistrate...”

“That's understandable. The evidences speak for themselves.”

All eyes are on the man who spoke after a long while. Between the dim lights of the Academy's hall and his slow steps, his versicolored eyes glimmers brightly than ever.

“I understand your concerns, Ray,” Xiangli Yao reaches out to pat the forlorn scientist by his shoulder, “We are merely at the recovery stage for Jinzhou, yet our nation has been going through too many things already.”

Amethyst eyes wander among the resonance cords on the screen. They catch a familiar face of a person, one that made his own heart skip a beat.

“However, Jinzhou still stands until today. We cannot say the exact date for the end of the world—it could be today, tomorrow, or another millennium—but as long as we are still here to see the flowers blooming or the children laughing, then why should we stop today?”

A roar of cheers erupts throughout the hall. The lamenting scientist sniffles in joy. Yet the Principal Investigator couldn't look away from the certain figure of a girl.

“But if the world were to end soon,” muttered a nearby scientist, causing Xiangli Yao to glance at him, “Hmm...I wonder where I'll go.”

Without a clear future in mind, and you, the Rover, who only woke up just now—the thought is scary. If, indeed, the world was ending soon, then what happens next? What happens to you?

The cats have been meowing nonstop.

As if sensing the air, they were pawing at your ankles, as if trying to catch your attention. One, two, three- maybe even five- cats trying to catch your attention.

Picking the white one, who was the one visibly stressed, you coo her as you scratched the back of her ear.

“What's wrong, hm?” You playfully kissed the cat's cheek, “Was the food not enough for you? If I overfeed you, Mr. Investigator will have to put you on another diet.”

Somehow understanding you, the cat gently pushes you off of their face with their paws, meowing.

“Hey, I'm telling the truth! As much as it hurts my poor heart, I can't feed you again today...”

“...I suppose you can allow them,” pipped a familiar voice, “They do look awfully thin.”

Nearly spilling the cat off of your arms, you squeak as you turn to meet a smiling Xiangli Yao. “M-Mr. Investigator?!”

“It's the first time you've addressed me by my title, Ms. Rover,” He teases, opting to carry the black cat on your feet, “I suppose our relationship is back to being professional?”

“The cats seem to know you more like that,” you emphasized, “Mr. Principal Investigator.”

He laughs—a tender laugh, it makes your heart squeeze—that it makes you pout. “I suppose that is right. Consider it a working place, then.”

Xiangli Yao stands next to you, holding out the black cat as it meows. With a funny thought, you ask, “Did you even know why they approached you in the first place?”

“Is it because I feed them?”

“No,” You playfully stuck out your tongue at him, “They say it's because it's to ward off bad spirits.”

Xiangli Yao goes silent, before looking at the cat, then back to you. “Hmm. I suppose I should stay away from you?”

Ultimately backfired. The joke goes back to you. With a dramatic gasp, you shrug. “Seeing as the cats was the one who approached me today, I think it's you who should go away for now.”

Freely laughing onto the summer air, the cats' meows intertwine with the yours. It's like any other workday— Xiangli Yao leaves mid-afternoon from work to meet and feed the cats, walking elsewhere until he's comfortable enough to go and finish his work.

It's only been a few weeks since a new addition to his itinerary: you. Now, every afternoon, the cats would find themselves carried by the warm sunlight; and you, taking care of them before him, drenched in sunset glow.

Like now, Xiangli Yao notes. But the thoughts were far too tempting. He takes a dive in them.

“So, Mr. Investigator,” you asked as you found yourselves by the stalls, nudging him softly, “where to next?”

The cats slowly left as soon as your walks stretched farther than usual. You were too nice to disturb Xiangli Yao, when he was far too absorbed in his thoughts.

“...Ah,” He purses his lips, slowly stopping in his steps, “I'm sorry, Rover. I hadn't realized we've gone this far.”

The streets decorated with the loud and bursting stalls sound in the background. Yet in the midst of it all, Xiangli Yao is silent as ever, his robotic hand over his lips, eyebrows furrowed. You think it's cute, from the curve of his pout, but you quickly shake it off.

“No worries at all. But you look like you have a lot on your mind, maybe you want to share them?”

Xiangli Yao looks at you. Behind you, the sun in Jinzhou has never set—bathing you in its reverberating halo, casting an ethereal glow. With his heart skipping a beat, he looks away with a sigh.

“...[Y/N],” every syllable of your name sounds too foreign for him, yet too holy, “Would you...like to come and stay with me for now?”

“Of course,” You smile, “Where do you want to go, Xiangli?”

His face remains serious as he speaks. “My house.”

“...I'm sorry?”

Going to Xiangli Yao's house was something you've never expected.

Sure, you often get invitations to visit your friends' houses once in a while. But it seems different when someone like Xiangli Yao asks you to go home with me.

Wait. With a mental slap, you scold yourself. Why do you feel different when it's with Xiangli Yao? Was there something about him? Watching unfocused amethyst eyes seems to make you worry. You were definitely not feeling something, right?

Unless?

“Is there anything else you'd like?” Xiangli Yao pops up from his kitchen, carrying a plate full of snacks in one arm and drinks in another, “I'm sorry, these are some of the food I could make.”

“It's okay, I'm more than happy to already taste what you make!” You said as you rush to help him.

But as you are about to take the plates, you couldn't help but gasp.

“Oh, does my hand scare you?”

Instead of the usual robotic hand you've grown accustomed to, it had morphed into a larger metal plate, to fit the two plates.

“No!” You shake your head with a laugh, “It's just the first time I've seen it like this. Does it change back?”

By the time the plates are on the table, Xiangli Yao twists his robotic hand (plate?), popping it out of the socket. “It does. Let me get it.”

“Do you...” Watching him scurry, you pick up a chip from the plate, “...need a hand?”

A resounding clang! echoes back to you. It takes a while before he returns to the room, rolling his hand as he grins. “I believe it's back in its proper place.”

Still the same stupid jokes that make you cackle. Eventually, you both settle down. The afternoon telenovela plays on the TV. Finally settled to sit on the ground instead of the chair, you end up picking the savory chips, munching as you devotedly watch the scenes in front of you. You don't even bat an eye even as you feel Xiangli Yao sits next to you. Silence. But a good kind.

How long have you known Xiangli Yao again? Whatever you both do, you're still content with each other's company. From the corner of your eye, you notice his gaze firmly on the TV, empty hands hair's breadth away.

“The Moonlit Fair,” you said slowly after a comfortable silence, “now that it's over, are you back to your usual work?”

He hums. “Depends how you define "usual work".”

“Metalwork and other groundbreaking discoveries.”

You bring your knees close to your face, resting your head so you could comfortably turn to see Xiangli Yao's face. Chromatic colors paint the neutral look on his face. Yet when he turns, a pretty smile replaces it.

“The field of science is only a curiosity away,” he pipes, mimicking your pose, “That's always something I've been doing, even before the start of the Moonlit Fair.”

This goody-two-shoes prodigy has always been the talk of the town. Even in Huaxu Academy, even from Mortefi's mouth, he is long lauded as someone who easily creates breakthroughs.

“I'm jealous.” You admit, sighing, “You can easily create new things.”

“That's not true.”

“Ah, I guess I can say with pride that I often help people, too.”

“However you may say it, it doesn't erase the fact that you are doing so much more than you think.” He said, “You're the mysterious Rover. You have lost memories related to this city. And from what I've heard, you hold so much history.”

He reaches out, human hand hesitating to touch your face. With a fleeting downcast gaze, he ends up booping your cheek. It makes you flinch from surprise.

“...I should be the one jealous of you, if that's the case, [Y/N].” His smile causes his eyes to close, a genuine look on his face, “You've done many incredible things that are worthy rather than simple praises.”

Did Xiangli Yao ever look this pretty before? Soft skin and amethyst irises through fluttering lashes. You wish you could brush away the hair that covers his eyes. Carefree, kissable lips. Wait—you cough, looking awau to hide the blush tinting your cheeks.

“Please, stop flattering me. I might end up bursting a hole in your roof.”

“I'll be sure to let Xiang-LEE and Patty fix that.”

A ticklish giggle escapes your lips as you turn back to see him. “Please leave my kids alone, you have overworked them during the festival.”

“...Please don't worry,” he shrugs, chuckling, “They'll be granted a paid vacation anyways.”

Seeing as the telenovela has lost its charm, and the poor food in front of you could go to waste, and maybe not wanting to end the fun yet, you decide to test your waters.

“Xiangli,” you said, noticing how he perked his head at the mention of his name, “I want to play a game.”

“An electronic one again?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Truth or Dare.”

Xiangli Yao laughs. “Oh, I didn't know you were into childish games like that.”

“I'm curious about you, and I'm sure you feel the same way.” You point out, “What's a better way than to play a game?”

“You could have asked and I wouldn't mind answering, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sit up straight, grinning, “Truth or Dare?”

Xiangli Yao mirrors you. “Already?”

“Pick already, or I might change my mind.”

“Hmm...Dare.”

Suppose your afternoon would be so different. A few chugs of the drinks, greedy hoarding of chips, spent markers, and random doodles later, you find yourself dressed in one of his lab coats with a clip of some of his IDs, and him in the flashiest shirt. The laughter has long strained your lips but it still ends up being the sweetest you've ever tasted. Apart from that, the glow in Xiangli Yao's face is also different, one that makes your heart skip faster.

“You've what?”

Xiangli Yao laughs a little too loudly. “A mini mouse that would greet anyone who opens the door. Mortefi was the first victim, because I didn't know he was deathly afraid of mice.”

The mental image of Mortefi from Xiangli Yao's prank comes abruptly that it causes you to match the latter's laughter—hollering until your back finds the sofa, slapping the carpet.

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, “It's not even a surprise why he hates you even more!”

Xiangli Yao wipes a tear from his eye, sparkly eyeshadow slightly staining his cheeks, “I bought him some coffee to apologize, but the joke hadn't died down for weeks.”

He finds himself sitting closely with you now, head against the sofa. With a little of your mingling laughter in the air, he couldn't help but watch as your fits of laughter continued, albeit a little softer. Through your literal rose-colored lenses, did you see the world like that, too?

“It's my turn now, right?” You ask, your shoulders an aftershock from your laughter.

“Mm,” he nods, “Have you run out already?”

“No, never!”

“Alright, since I've been picking dares for a while. I'll go with truth.”

“Have you ever heard of the rumors?” You begin, laughter dying down, as you take a bite from the chip. “That the world is "ending soon"?”

Xiangli Yao freezes. So you've heard. It's no surprise as it already made a turmoil between the scientists in Huaxu Academy. Yet the dread somehow comes creeping back to him.

“If, theoretically, the world were to end today,” you slowly speak, carefully choosing the words, “In a few hours or so. What would you do?”

What would he do? A tricky question. But a calid one at that. “The end of the world wouldn't happen so abruptly.”

“Mm, yeah, but I am curious about your answer.”

What would Xiangli Yao do? And somehow, the dimming living room feels so small, the only light source was a forgotten TV color palette. When he looks at you, your doe eyes sparkle in the darkness. The closeness of your bodies, the fleeting smell of spring on your shoulder, with a hint of him.

“Well...” He slides down to the floor, patting the space beside him, “I'll let you know if you lay here with me.”

“Are you sure there are no pranks here?”

“I'm honest.”

You eventually follow his words, so you could meet the level of his eyes. Watching the glow of his inspiration-filled eyes, they somehow make you smile.

“I heard all about it when my colleagues were playing a game during break time.” Xiangli Yao begins, “Some claim it's not true, but there have been others who believe it's so soon.”

“What do you think?”

He looks away, opting to stare at the ceiling above. You follow his sight, unaware of what was next.

“I don't know.” He says truthfully, robotic hand pointing upward, “With everything that has happened, no one else can predict it.”

“Even a knowledgeable scientist like you?”

He glances at you. “Even a knowledgeable scientist like me.”

He looks back to where his hand points. Casting a power, a small purple cube dances in his robotic hand, knowing that you were watching so intently.

“But if the world were to end today, then I wouldn't mind spending the day with the cats I feed.”

The cube glows brightly, floating so freely in his hand. A flash of scenes play through its squares, too fast to see, yet too slow to be noticed.

“I wouldn't mind having the TV on, sitting on the floor with snacks all over, even though there's a perfectly good sofa.”

He hears your small laugh, which makes him smile. The cube falls to his chest, where it travels all the way to you.

“I wouldn't mind spending the last hours playing Truth or Dare, with someone who's extraordinary.”

This time, Xiangli Yao looks at you. Wide-eyed and speechless, from the way the cube touches your outstretched hand, watching the faint glow of the halo on your own body. If the world were to end, he wouldn't get tired of watching this view; watching the rise and fall of your chest as you stare in awe, calloused hands tenderly watching over his own work of art, knowing that there'll never be another you if the world were to end.

Knowing that he's long been blessed to exist in the world where you are in it.

“I think I wouldn't mind spending the last hours on Solaris-3 with you, [Y/N].”

The cube pops, a sprinkle of glitter all over your body. Glancing, your heart throbs loudly in your chest, as you heard his confession.

How did this happen again? You were merely friends with the scientist. After the successful Moonlit Fair, you often find yourself bumping into him, simple errands and impromptu hang outs when you do. Watching Xiangli Yao in his humble abode, the telenovela a white noise, and the shade of colors lighting his face—have you ever seen him more than a friend?

“Xiangli Yao,” you breathe, which made him freeze, “you...”

He smiles. “I'm not rushing to know your answer. I am merely stating the facts.”

A good friend. But now you figured out why that rubs you off the wrong way. You have always known the answer to your feelings.

“[Y/N],” Even the way Xiangli Yao speaks your name, a softer one, where in the world they called you "Rover", he calls you differently.

“[Y/N],” Reaching out, his human hand finds a strand of your hair, gently pulling it to his lips. “[Y/N],”

Xiangli Yao calls your name, one that makes you throb.

“If, theoretically,” he repeats the question you asked before, “the world does end today, what will you do?”

In a world where your memories are lost in the ripples of time and reverberation. You had the same answer.

“...I wouldn't mind spending it with a certain scientist.” You smile, watching him mirror yours, “I wouldn't mind spending it with you, Xiangli Yao.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Xiangli,” you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he closes his eyes to snuggle to the warmth, “Xiangli, you're like the cats.”

“Then will you ever mind if I could hold on to you?”

Weary arms find themselves asking for yours. And like you, touch-starved for his own touch, lean onto him, the smell of spring and that you could forget the world.

“...I would,” you said, and you do mean it, “I'll hold onto you, Xiangli.”

Oh god pls let me have him irl too

don't forget to like, comment, share, and reblog!!

— starry

[perfectlyoongi]

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who bakes cakes with you in the early hours of the morning when the whole city is still asleep. three or four in the morning were sacred hours in your house as autumn approached. with matching aprons and wine glasses in hand, you and Jungkook followed instructions as disorganized as possible, hoping to find some cake batter or cookies in the midst of your laughter. the music played low, remaining completely silent when you and Jungkook exchanged jokes and visions, but always lulling you into a little dance that lasted the entire morning. at six in the morning you sat at the table tasting your creation before saying goodbye and falling asleep in your rooms. “today i want an orange cake. i know it’s late, but do you want to do one with me? i found two recipes that might be good. i’ll even let you have the first slice.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who has a collection of photos and videos of you that you might consider embarrassing. Jungkook seemed to have a certain gift when it came to humiliating you: whenever you were distracted, or too involved in something, Jungkook made a point of saving everything on his phone, creating a folder in his gallery with just your photos. you could say it was a hobby of Jungkook’s that always made him happy, as it was in these more personal moments that your soul truly shined and oh, how he was in love with that light. “you are so done on your birthday. you’ll see, i’ll post the photos i took of you in the car yesterday. you were beautiful. the world needs to see your natural beauty.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who always orders your favorite pizza when he doesn’t feel like cooking. you shared the household chores, it was an agreement that was quickly made by you as soon as you became housemates; but there were days when Jungkook came home more tired, or even after dinner, and there was no desire or patience to cook. as such, Jungkook would order your favorite pizza from your favorite pizzeria and, after paying for it, he would call you over for dinner while he went to bed. in a way, you were always Jungkook’s priority. “hi, the work ran a little late today, sorry. i already called for your favorite pizza and you have the money here. i hope you eat well. i’m really tired. good night, angel. good night.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who buys letter magnets to communicate with you on the fridge when your are mismatched. there were times when you would get home when Jungkook had just left. there were times when Jungkook would go to sleep when you were preparing lunch. there were days when you didn’t even see each other. but as you shared a house, communication was essential to make that experience comforting. so Jungkook bought a large number of colorful magnets in the shapes of letters for you to use as a means of communication. they were only used for basic things, of course, but it was still a very tender gesture on Jungkook’s part. “buy bread. dinner 8pm. seal.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who always gives you a ride in winter, even if it’s just to get bread. Jungkook was so warm and helpful. if you needed something he was there to make sure you didn’t miss anything. and, when the weather was more brutal, with snow and rain decorating the streets, Jungkook always made a point of taking you wherever you needed to go, secretly keeping in his heart all the streets shared with you, shouting the most popular songs in the radio. it could be mere minutes, but it was enough to leave Jungkook completely surrendered to you. “don’t be stupid. with this cold? you may get sick and then what? i don’t know how to take care of myself, let alone you! I’m looking out for your well-being, that’s all.”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who plays drunk uno with you on long summer nights. when the boredom was a lot and the nights were too hot, you and Jungkook decided to distract yourself with a simple game of cards. changing some of the rules, you and Jungkook agreed to play several games of uno until one of you was too happy to continue. there were screams and laughter, a lot of cheating and distortions, long nights enveloped in pure happiness and complicity. without there ever being a loser, but also without any winner, you and Jungkook repeated the game on the hottest and most boring nights, each of you needing the other’s presence to make that summer something unforgettable. “no, no! you can’t put a +4 after i told you to take 2! stop being a cheater and accept your defeat. no. put the card back into your deck!”

ROOMMATE!JUNGKOOK who declares himself to you when the storm stole all the light in your house. several candles were scattered around your living room in an attempt to bring some comfort in that darkness. sitting on the couch without having much to do, you and Jungkook watched time pass slowly. a long period of silence danced around the various flames, stealing all your comfort and offering Jungkook a small door for him to finally open up to you. and it was when you went to get water that Jungkook followed you to the kitchen and, very confused and nervous, finally confessed to you. “i don’t know if it’s the candles that are making me nostalgic or if it’s really your company, but i want to tell you something. i like you. a lot. i don’t think i should like you this much but i have no control over my feelings for you.”

[acesofspadess]

FIA Awards

AG5 Universe

summary: Ace and Lando are in Rwanda for the FIA Awards

warnings: Ace thirsting over Lando (like the rest of us)

Spending a few days in Monaco was refreshing, it was nice to be back in her and Lando’s home, doing some errands together. But as soon as they arrived they left for Rwanda for the Prize Giving Ceremony. Ace was there for two prizes this evening which is something she never expected.

“We’re joined by Lando Norris and Ace Giovanelli, how are you both today? Ace you look lovely.” Ace and Lando smiled politely. “She does doesn't she?" Lando agreed, "We’re great, and you?” Lando added sweetly. “Yes we’re great. Are you excited for tonight?”

“Oh yes we are.” Ace spoke up looking at Lando. “We’re very happy to be in new places and Rwanda is a new place for us…”

A day prior….

Ace and Lando were on stream with Max playing Tarkov once again. “Why the hell do we have to fly all the way to Africa?” Lando groaned as his and Ace’s phones buzzed with an itinerary from Zak. “That’s such a long flight.” Ace also groaned. “Well you two must have been doing something right this season to have been invited…"

The opening ceremony was very special to Ace. Being a person of color in this world was hard. Everyday she was fighting 10x harder just because of the color of her skin. Seeing the unashamed culture of the country, from the continent of her ancestors warmed her heart. They would never be able to shut their culture down.

Lando was sitting next to her, in their own row. F1 had their own row in the front. Lando’s hand was interlaced with her left hand brushing over the engagement ring. “This is our first outing being engaged.” Lando whispered to her. Ace looked down at their hands then his face. “And I couldn’t be more honoured to be the most handsome man in the room's fiancé.” Lando blushed lightly at her. He really did look so amazing. 

The first award of the night was Karting Championships and Ace was very ready to see Lando give Kenzo his trophy. Ace watched with heart eyes as Lando spoke and handed out the awards, his engagement band shining in the lights.

“Advice?” Lando repeated as he was asked to give advice to three karting champions, going shy. “I have trouble with these kinds of things, but just do what you continue to do, believe in yourself, you’re holding this trophy for a reason, continue to work hard, and you may take my seat one day.”

Ace smiled as Lando was a natural talent when talking to the younger generation. He stayed to give Kenzo another fan voted award, before he was free from stage duties. “I know Lando was giving out awards, but who does Kenzo look up to the most?” They asked his dad.

“Well, as some may know, Lewis Hamilton, but towards the end of this season he’s said how much he adores Ace Giovanelli. So both of them I would say.” Ace placed a hand to heart at the new information. Her and Lewis were always supporting him, but to hear that he looked up to her was something she never imagined.

Lando came back from behind the stage and sat next to her lacing their hands. “I just gave him an award and he’s trying to steal my wife?” He joked. “You have serious competition, he’s already taken your Karting award.” Lando laughed, bringing their hands to his lips. “I’ll fight for you, if I have to.” Ace shook her head, a feeling of warmth clouding her. “Je t'aime.” She whispered, kissing his hand. They went through the next set of awards and through them Lando just played with her hand and ring discreetly through them.

During the memory of everyone that passed this year Ace got emotional. Everyday would she think of Jules, and what his tragedy did to the world of motor racing. Lando squeezed her hand as he saw her eyes gloss over. 

Ace cheered when Klara won the fan award for WRC. Women were taking this sport over one award at a time. 

Tom then asked Christian about Mclaren and how they did winning this season constructors. After that, they moved onto Formula E. Ace, Lando, and the rest of Mclaren cheered when Sam Bird won the fan award for Formula E.

The next set of awards were rookie of the year but before that were performances from some of Rwanda’s finests. If Ace walked out of here with nothing, she walked out with appreciation for cultural representation. 

Ace was proud to see her name on the rookie list. Max gave the award to Gabriel Borteleto whom Ace had gotten to know as he was a McLaren junior driver and had driven her car in the past. 

Ace was proud when Nyck won, he deserved it after everything that happened in F1 for him. The lifetime achievement award was up next. Mohamed went back up on stage as everyone listened to his small speech. “... she came into this sport and fought endlessly, she is making history every day. Ace Giovanelli is history.” Ace clapped a hand over her shocked face, she did not know what was happening.

“Ace, you made so many milestones this year…” He continued as Lando helped her stand up and get to the stage, she was still in shock. “I don’t deserve this.” She whispered to Mohamed. “Oh, yes you do.” He shook her off. “Now, Ace this was surprise but I want to show everyone a video of why you were chosen for this.”

The lights dimmed as the room hushed in anticipation. A video began to play on the massive screen behind them, the opening frame showing a black-and-white photo of a young Ace Giovanelli in her karting gear, a determined glint in her eye.

The montage began with clips of Ace's early karting days, weaving through tight corners with precision and winning junior championships.

A voiceover from Alain Prost played: "Even then, you could see she had something special—a fire, an intuition for racing that can’t be taught. She was destined for greatness."

The screen transitioned to her F3 debut, a young Ace climbing out of her car after a podium finish, grinning ear to ear. Moments from her F2 career followed: her first win, her daring overtakes, and the celebrations with her team as she secured the championship title.

"Ace came into F2 like a storm," said Max in an interview clip. "She dominated, she inspired, and most importantly, she paved the way for others. Watching her was like seeing a masterpiece in motion."

The footage shifted to her in F1. The McLaren garage erupted in cheers as Ace crossed the finish line in P1 in the Qatar Sprint in her rookie season.

"I’ll never forget her first podium in Formula 1," Charles shared in his segment. "She wasn’t just fast—she was fearless. She outbraked me and I thought, ‘Okay, this isn’t just a rookie. This is a future champion.’"

The montage grew more emotional as it chronicled her historic first win at Hungary. The screen showed Ace standing atop the podium, tears streaming as the Monegasque anthem played. Then came the images of her claiming the Constructors' Championship with McLaren, the first female driver to achieve that feat.

"Ace changed the narrative," said Lando Norris. "She didn’t just break records—she shattered ceilings. Being her teammate has been the honour of my life."

The video slowed, showing personal moments: Ace helping young girls at karting academies, mentoring junior drivers, and celebrating with her family and friends.

The final clip was her second GP victory, the race where she clinched P3 in the Drivers' Championship. As she stepped out of the car, fists raised high, the roar of the crowd was deafening.

The montage ended with a simple quote from Ace herself: "It’s not about being the first woman to do these things—it’s about ensuring I’m not the last."

The room erupted in applause as the lights came back on. Ace stood frozen, tears streaming as Mohamed gently nudged her forward.

Mohamed smiled warmly. “Ace, this award is not just for your incredible achievements on track. It’s for your resilience, your trailblazing spirit, and the inspiration you’ve given to generations of fans and drivers alike. You’ve changed the sport forever.”

The crowd rose in a standing ovation as Ace took the microphone, still overwhelmed, her voice trembling as she began to speak.

“Wow. I… I truly don’t know what to say. This is such an incredible honor, and I’m still not sure I deserve it. But standing here, looking at all of you, I feel so overwhelmed with gratitude.”

Ace paused, her voice thick with emotion. “Racing has been my life for as long as I can remember. From those early karting days in Monaco and France, dreaming about one day driving on the streets I grew up on, to standing on the podium there… it’s been a journey of passion, perseverance, and a lot of help along the way.”

Ace smiled, her eyes finding Lando and Max in the audience. “To my teammates, my mentors, my rivals—you’ve all pushed me to be better, faster, stronger. I wouldn’t be the driver or the person I am without you. And to the woman in motorsports… you’re the heart of this award. Thank you for believing in me, even when I doubted myself.”

Her tone softened as she looked down at the award in her hands. “This really isn’t just for me. This is for every girl who was told she didn’t belong here. For every kid who dared to dream of something bigger. If my journey proves anything, it’s that there’s no limit to what you can achieve when you fight for it.”

She straightened, her voice clear and firm. “I promise to keep fighting—to keep pushing boundaries, to keep paving the way, and to keep making history. Not for me, but for all of us.”

The room erupted in applause, the sound echoing as Ace stepped back, her smile radiant and her heart full. As she walked off the stage people took pictures of her with her award before she was headed back to her seat. “I love you. Thank you.” She whispered to the three boys next to her. “You deserve it Ace.” Max said, squeezing her hand.

More awards for the WRC were next. Then was the FIA presidents award. Ace was still in shock when they transitioned into the Formula 1 section of the night. The video played of F2 and F3 championship battles. 

The championship awards were given to Gabriel and Invicta. Then it was time for F1. First was the fan award for Action of the Year award. Ace and Lando looked at each other when Monza came up. They could laugh about it now, but then it was a little rough. 

Before they announced they moved onto Tom who was speaking with a Ferrari driver from a different motorsport. Checo ended up winning the fan award, before they moved onto highlights of the year.

The video was very well put together. This season was definitely one to remember. Max got his special moments which Ace made sure to poke his leg at, knowing he hated it. They showed how the season started as another Max run, but then Carlos in Australia and Charles in Monaco and Monza and Cota played, then went back to Carlos in Mexico.

Then it went to Mercedes, showing Geroge and Lewis’ epic wins at the beginning of the season. Then the famous papaya colour filled the screen.

“Enter McLaren.”

It showed Lando’s amazing win in Miami, then the rough win in Hungary. Then back to Lando in Zandvoort, then her in Azerbaijan where they took P1 in constructors. Then Lando again in Singapore.

“McLaren's rise was volcanic.” 

“It brought a new battle, Max versus Lando.”

Ace hated watching this back, it was hard enough watching her two best friends go at it and risking their lives. But it got happy again when they showed Max winning the WDC for the 4th time. Then it went into Abu Dhabi.

“Who will we crown the constructors.”

It went into Max and Ace’s crash in the start and showed a few clips of her recovery mixed in with Landos race. 

The video turned off after showing the team's post celebrations. “Wow, what an amazing year as a fan. First we present our third place.” 

“Yes, she took massive wins in Hungary and Baku, ladies and gentleman, Ace Giovanelli.” Ace walked out waving to the audience before greeting the presenters. 

“Ace, such a great season for you and for Mclaren. Down to the last race and ending up champions, it must make you hungry to go at it again.”

She nodded her head with a wide smile. “Yes, definitely hungry for next year. We were fighting with Ferrari until the very last race but the season ended in our favour with amazing drives from Lando and I. I’ve achieved so many things this season, my first wins and then the constructors. I was on the podium in my home race next to Charles, it was everything to me, hopefully next year we can switch spots,” she laughed softly, “but I’m very ready to fight for more wins and even for the drivers championships next season, and hold onto the constructors.” She finished and they thanked her as she walked off with a small wave.

After her speech she walked off the stage but stayed on the side to watch Lando take his award. Everyone was so proud of him, for fighting like a champion everyone knew he would become. “I retract that comment that said it was all luck. The media likes to change things.” He disclaimed almost immediately.

They rolled Lando’s car on stage behind him which made Ace very happy. “Can we bring Ace back out please.”

She walked back out and stood next to Lando who kissed her cheek in greeting. Zak and Andrea came on stage soon after, and they four alongside the president of Rwanda and Mohamed took pictures.

Zak spoke for them, “Of course we’ve been celebrating, here in Rwanda. The weekend was fantastic there in Abu Dhabi, the team, myself and Andrea, everyone at the factory did an amazing job. The fight put up by the competition was amazing. Ferrari kept us honest until the very last lap. It’s just very nice being here and accepting awards and making history and getting it done after 26 years.”

“Well, thank you very much. Congratulations again.”

They exited the stage and Ace cheered quite loudly for Max when he was called on stage. 

“... both Lando and Ace brought the fight, and it looks like they’ll bring again next year.” When he walked off the stage Ace and Lando faked wrestling the trophy from him. “Alright you two, at least let me have it until the new season.”

At the end they took a photo of all the winners and runner ups. Ace wasn’t sure how she ended up with two trophies that night but she did. Walking out of the auditorium she was stopped many times. Many people congratulated her for her Lifetime Achievement award, P3 in the drivers, and her and Lando’s engagement. She gave as many hugs as possible with two giant awards in her hands. Her, Lando, Zak, and Andrea were pulled to the ‘blue carpet’ to take photos of them and their trophies. 

The first one was just Ace and her two awards, then Lando and his runner up award. The two of them together with the constructors and their personal awards, all four of them together, then the last one was just Zak and Andrea with the constructors. Ace and Lando also took one with Max in podium order.

They all went to a different room for dinner once awards were given to some officials. F1 was sat together as normal, and Ace and Kelly spent the night taking pictures of everything and everyone. The night was filled with delicious foods and enough laughter for months. This may have been the end of the season, but it was just the beggining of everything that was to come.

~~~

taglist: @unlikelystay

[aviradasa]

PART 2 YOU SAD FOLKS!

Aaravos getting ready to propose to you with the help of leola Hc

Aaravos x reader Hc

{Fluff} @delusional-mushroom

Warnings: none

Sorry if this seems rushed it's really late at night 😭 but I think it's cute. This is not proofread whatsoever, so if there are spelling errors, I apologize. I will look it over in the morning and fix it up.

Check out the other parts to this string of oneshots

Masterlist

Aaravos introducing you to his daughter

Teenage!Leolas first partner is human how do you and Aaravos react

You and teenage!Leola sync up that time of month Aaravos is done

It's been a while since you moved in with Aaravos and leola, and things are going amazing.

Leola is fully attached to you at the hip. You are her second parent.

Anyways

It was an early morning.

AND I MEAN HELLA EARLY

The sun was hardly even up

Cause leola woke you up and dragged you out of bed. Reminding you that you promised to take her on a morning walk.

As you are forced from your slumber, you notice Aaravos isn't in bed, which you find odd. So you ask her

"Hey unicorn, where is your dad?" You ask

She just giggles and pulls you out the front door

" he's gone into town for a little bit he will be back soon, though!" She tells you with a cheeky giggle

You don't put much thought into it, though, as it's pretty normal for her. Though you are curious as to why Aaravos left for town before dawn even broke. Normally, he would tell you.

As the sun rises, you and leola walk. On your journey, you point out bits of nature that are absolutely gorgeous in the morning light, and she's just so happy to see everything.

She will sometimes run ahead a bit, pointing at animals and flowers and plants she finds interesting. Her little eyes practically glowed with happiness

It's absolutely adorable

On your way back, you notice Aaravose walking into the house.

As soon as you point at him, leola grabs your hand and pulls you off. Now walking through a field away from the direction of the house, and looking back, you swear you saw him shooing you both off from the window

You are hella confused

You try asking leola about this odd behavior, but once again, she just starts laughing and distracting you. Everything today is just odd, and you're starting to sense it.

This goes on all day.

You see Aaravos in the distance, and leola will just laugh and pull you away. Not dare letting you get close to him or telling you anything.

And you have noticed him just watching the two of you from afar. It's not that uncommon, but today it's just even more odd, and with leolas behavior today, everything is suspicious, and you just wanna know what's happening

Until you and leola were making little rock towers, Aaravos came up behind you. It honestly surprised you, making you jump and accidentally knock your rock tower over

He offers you his hand to help you stand up, and he shoos his daughter off with a wink. She jumps up from her seat and squeals with excitement, waving her hands in front of her with a bright smile, and she runs away

Once she's gone, he begins walking you through the field as the sun sets, you try to ask him what's been going on all day and why him and leola had been acting funny but he just dismisses it

"Don't mind that, you'll know in just a moment."

You roll your eyes but continue to follow him. The both of you chat, and you tell him all about what you and leola got up to today. As you talk to him about your little adventures, he just admires you. Sometimes, forgetting to respond or react. He almost seems nervous.

You both walk a little longer before stopping by a little stream that looks almost golden due to the light. A little blanket has been set out with flowers and little magic stones lining the edges as well as a little basket that has been placed in the middle.

"Oh my god this is beautiful!" You say as you look at the scene. Before you can sit down though he grabs you lightly

"Y/n I have a very important question for you." He says, taking your hands as you face him

As you are about to ask him what's going on you hear a little whisper from a nearby bush

"Did they say yes???"

You and Aaravos share a smile before you raise your eyebrow and look over to see leolas face sticking out of the leaves.

"I didn't even get to finish asking silly."

He says to her with a laugh. As she sighs impatiently and rolls her eyes.

"Whats taking so long. All you gotta say it 'will you marry me' its very simple" She says, tilting her head to the side before shaking her head. Her eyes suddenly go wide as her arm pops out of the bush to cover her mouth

"Oop! Sorry dad!" She says quickly

Both you and Aaravos are shocked, but you are quick to break the silence luckily.

"You're asking me to marry you?" You say with a smile as you look up at him. You are a bit shocked as you were not expecting this so soon, but you are overjoyed

"Yes, I was, but it seems our little unicorn decided to ask for me." He jokes, shaking his head from side to side with a grin a little embarrassed and worried about your response

" Yes."

"What?"

"Yes. Of I will marry you."

You say with a wide smile. Aaravos let's out a loud sigh of relief and quickly pulls you in for a hug.

As you both pull back, leola jumps out of the bush and hugs both you and Aaravos as hard as she can, not letting yall go for a minute.and you all share a laugh.

After a moment, Aaravos kisses you i celebration of your now engagement, and leola turns away and dramatically gags. While loudly saying "Ewww"

Making you roll your eyes at Aaravos. Before chuckling.

"Well, I guess that's the queue to sit down and eat then." You joke as you all sit down on the blanket and open the little basket of food.

It was a simple engagement. With a few hiccups, but it didn't matter to any of you. All that mattered is that you are all finally a family,and for all of you that's more that you could have ever asked for 🖤

[messedupfan]

Chapter 25

Summary: Persistent as ever, Jean and Anna recruit Jean's mother to help with their cause. Which sparks an important conversation between Wanda and Y/n.

A/n: Helloooo! I know I'm slow with posting lately. Work has been CRAZY. Hopefully I'll get in a better rhythm soon. Especially with the hell that is coming upon us these next four years. We'll need each other to get through! Have a good day and enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist  | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are folding laundry for you and Rachel when your phone goes off in your pocket. You pause for a moment and pull your phone out to see that it's Jean's mom calling you. It's not unusual for her to call but it's not as common as it used to be. 

“Hey Mrs. Grey, how's it going?” You say cheerfully. 

Mrs. Grey makes a disapproving sound. “Y/n I've told you many times since the divorce, you can still call me mom.” 

You laugh at her slight upset over the misuse of her formal name. “How are you doing, Mom?” You ask as you lean your head to the side to hold your phone between your head and shoulder. 

“That's better,” she cheers. You hear some rustling around on her end. “I am doing well. I just came back to town to check on the house. The last tenants just moved out and I came to assess damages before I hire the cleaning crew and repair guy.” 

“Oh, do you need a lot of repairs done? You know that I'm always happy to help,” you offer while you resume folding.

“No, no, dear. I couldn't ask you to do that for us,” she says and now you're more confused. 

“Oh, I just figured that's why you're calling,” you say as you set the newly folded shirt on a stack of others. 

“No dear, I was calling to ask you to lunch. Are you busy this afternoon?” She says happily. You look at your watch and consider your options. You're not certain you want to be spending time alone with your former mother-in-law. But there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.

“I would love to meet with you. Where did you make reservations?” You ask, knowing that she most likely already made reservations. She laughs and mentions that you know her too well. “I will see you at one,” you promise and say your goodbyes. While you finish folding and start getting ready you run through the scenarios of how the lunch is going to go. 

As you arrive at the restaurant, your stomach begins to turn. It's a nice place. The last time you went to a nice place with one of Jean's parents, it was with her father asking you to convince Jean to not go through with the divorce. Since then you haven't been asked to dinner or lunch with either of them. 

Mrs. Grey greets you with a hug as you arrive at the table. She gives you a kiss on each cheek and she squeezes your arms as she looks at you. “You look great, I love what you've done with your hair. It's nice to see it cleaned up and natural like that.” 

You smile at the compliment. She has seen you with many different hairstyles over the years. She has almost never had anything nice to say about your hair until now. Your hair was growing out uneven because of the mullet so you had to cut it short in order for it to grow out properly. “Yeah, well, it wasn't working for me for a bit there. You look wonderful! How are things with you and Mr. Grey? I hear the two of you have been doing a lot of traveling.” 

Mrs. Grey nods and moves to sit, “We've been good. All of our kids are so spread out, it's nice to have a reason to go somewhere. Meet all of our new grandbabies. I just love being a grandma now,” she grins as she lays out the cloth napkin on her lap. You follow as you look around the restaurant, feeling a bit out of place. It was a very nice restaurant. 

“Oh yeah, I had heard that Roger finally had a kid,” you say as you lift up the menu to look at the pricing. 

“Yeah, yeah, he's doing great, very happy to be a father,” she says as she goes through the menu herself. “Don't be shy now, order what you want. It's my treat!” She reminds you in a cherry tone. Something tells you that things might eventually take a turn for the worst and you do not want to leave her with a big bill. You want to be able to leave money to cover your portion of the bill. 

“I appreciate that, Mom,” it feels a little foreign to call her that after all of these years. But if it makes her happy, then that's what you'll do to appease her. 

You proceed to order what you can afford. You ask her about how your former in-laws are. She mentions that they miss having you officially part of the family. That none of them get along with Anna which makes you laugh since none of them actually have to deal with Jean's wife the way that you do. 

You update her on your life, leaving out that you're seeing someone. Especially when she presses for the information. You don't let up because it's not the time to. Besides, you're almost certain if you tell her anything she will tell Jean then she and her wife will be on your case about it. Then Jean will recruit Kate and the information will continue to spread like rapid fire. 

When you're able to drop the subject of your love-life you talk about how proud you are of your daughter. How great she's doing in school. The friends that she has made. How kind she is. How strong she is becoming. 

Elaine watches you go on and on about her first granddaughter. She is impressed by the way you and her daughter have really stepped up and took on your roles as parents for her grandchild. She knows that she was harsh when the news first came out. But it's clear that neither of you hold her poor reactions against her. 

Finally, once you've both finished your meals, you ask her what is really going on. Elaine dabs her lips with her cloth napkin. She sips her wine. She clears her throat and she looks up at you. 

“My daughter wants to expand her family,” she states in a professional tone. She is a very good negotiator. Her entire adult life and career has been about getting her way. But you aren't nervous, not about this. “And I'm asking you to reconsider helping her do that.” 

You nod your head with a growing smirk as you wipe your mouth with your napkin. “She recruited you,” you state with amusement dancing in your eyes. 

“She is my daughter, I would do anything for her. You should know something about that,” she states with her cold stare. 

“Yes, well, my answer is still the same. She can find someone else to grow her family with. It's not going to be me,” you state as firmly as she was speaking to you. 

Elaine sets her checkbook on the table and you know exactly where this is heading. She tried this with you many times before. Had you accepted any of them, Rachel wouldn't have been born, she wouldn't have you in her life, and the divorce would have been an annulment shortly after you had gotten married. 

“Stop, you know that you can't buy me off Mrs. Grey. I won't do it,” you stand firm. You pull out your wallet and leave whatever cash you have on hand but she stops you. 

“What if I can guarantee you have custody?” She says and you scoff. She was not about to start negotiations. “Jean says she won't budge on it but I think I can convince my daughter what a great influence you are as a parent. Certainly better than that so-called wife of hers,” she rolls her eyes. 

You almost want to laugh at the irony of this conversation. “I can't believe you, the woman who tried to pay me to convince her daughter to have an abortion, is now asking me to get her daughter pregnant.”

“Times have changed. She's not getting any younger and she cannot afford to pay for treatment to-” 

“Why don't you pay for it for her then?” You interrupt her. She clamps her mouth shut. Astonished by your abrupt question. You don't typically stand up for yourself in such a way. You are known to walk away to think or remain quiet. But speaking up to her like this, it's unusual. “If I decide to have another child, it will not be with your daughter. I will not have her and everyone else she mentions this to bully me into changing my mind.” You sigh as the upset quickly leaves your body. “Thank you for the meal, I would love for us to stay in touch and meet again under different circumstances. Better circumstances.” 

You walk out of that restaurant and breathe in the fresh air to calm yourself down. You want to call Jean to tell her off but you don't. Instead, you call Wanda and ask if she is available. It had been a couple of weeks since her son's birthday where she admitted that she was having conflicting feelings about you and her. You gave her space the last couple of weeks to see if she would reach out on her own. But you needed her now. 

Luckily, she hears the upset tone in your voice and asks you to come over without question. Next thing you know, you're parking your truck in her garage. You walk into her house and she greets you in the laundry room with a hug. 

She takes your hand and leads you to her room. “My mom is having a book club meeting,” she says softly as the two of you quietly climb the stairs. You look over your shoulder to see her mom surrounded by a group of women her age engrossed in a conversation discussing presumably the book that's in their hands. 

You sit on the edge of Wanda’s bed and look at your hands. You let out a big breath. You have missed being in her presence the last couple of weeks and part of you hates that this is the way that you return to her presence. 

Wanda stands by the door, she has her fingers laced together as she observes you. She has missed having you around. She knows that she is the one who asked for space but she didn't consider that you would actually respect that request. No matter how good this time apart has been for her. It gave her time to reflect and realize that the only red flags you have are the red flags she has. Nothing extreme, nothing she can't handle. She has been meaning to call you and invite you over but she couldn't explain why she needed the space so she waited until she could. She expected the next time she'd see you, you would have that award winning smile of yours. She didn't expect to see you this way. This upset. 

“What happened, Y/n?” She finally asks. You look up at her and blink a couple of times.

“I…” you sigh and lick your lips. “Jean got her mom to ask me to help her have another baby.” You rip the bandaid off not seeing any other way to approach the subject. Wanda gasps as she sits next to you. 

“I thought they moved on from that,” Wanda says as she puts her hand on your back.

You nod, “So did I, but they completely blind sided me. Her mom was willing to pay me off.” 

Wanda shakes her head. “Unbelievable. I cannot believe her. I cannot believe she would do that! After everything that happened the last time she asked you. I cannot believe she would get her mom involved in this to pay you off!” 

You agree, it is insane that they would bring this up again. Let alone bring her mother into this. You cannot believe that it has come to this. You almost want to cave just so that they'd leave you alone about this. You sigh as you reach for Wanda's hand. “Should I give them a baby? I mean, not in the way they wanted but I don't know. Should I just… donate to them. Am I the one that's just being crazy and stubborn?” You ask as you think about the amount of stories you've found online where families have done this sort of thing. That a couple that cannot produce a child on their own approached their ex partner to have another baby together. And they accept with no issues. You're starting to think you were being selfish.

“Y/n, you're not being crazy. You don't want to do that. It's your choice, you have a choice in this and you chose not to do it. That is something they have to respect. The whole thing is completely unfair to you.” Wanda reminds you as she turns your head to face her by pulling your chin. “Yes, had you agreed the first time, it could have been seen as this selfless beautiful thing that you did. But I've watched you tear yourself apart about this. It would have destroyed you to agree to it. You would have regretted it the moment that she announced that she was pregnant. You would have regretted it every week you had to pick up Rachel and pretend that her sibling is not your child too. You would have hated yourself when one day that child found out the truth and felt like you abandoned them. You made the right decision not only for yourself now but for everyone in the future.”

You listen to Wanda as she speaks so strongly about your decision. Defending you against your thoughts of yourself and against the perception of everyone else against you. 

She has a point. This scenario can only be a beautiful one if everyone was in agreement. But you don't want this. That was never in your mind in terms of expanding your family. The thought never occurred to you that they'd one day approach you about helping them with that especially since Anna seemed disinterested in the idea of ever caring for a baby. She would tell people the reason she wanted to adopt was because she could avoid the baby stage. 

Now she wants to ask this huge thing of you because she is insecure of her role in Rachel's life? You could not believe it. 

“You're right,” you say as you hold eye contact with her. You hadn't realized just how much you've missed gazing into those green eyes of hers until now. “I'm sorry to dump this on you. How are you doing? Have you figured out what you needed to?” 

Wanda shakes her head as she scoots closer to you. “This is something serious. I'm glad you came to me with this instead of sitting alone in your apartment or going to Bucky and Steve whose solutions are typically to just let you vent and drink. Which is not helpful because then they just dump you onto me.” You let out a soft huff of a laugh as you nod because it's true. She caresses your cheek with the back of her fingers as she pulls her bottom lip under her teeth with her tongue. Her eyes bounce around, gazing into your eyes, glancing at your lips. “And I have, by the way. Figured out what I needed to, I mean. I've missed you and I think I'm ready to start telling people about us. Not today or tomorrow but… soon.” She says nervously. You break out into a big grin and pull her against you in a celebratory hug. 

“That just made my day, truly,” you say as you continue to hold her close. Wanda starts to push against you by your shoulders to create some space. As you're about to apologize, she keeps you quiet with her lips on yours. It has felt like a lifetime since you've been able to hold her and kiss her. You're not certain when the last time was and you don't care to think about it as you lay on top of her on her bed.

“We have to be quiet,” she whispers as your lips are on her neck and her fingers are working on your jeans. “I don't want us to embarrass my mom in front of her friends.” 

You chuckle at the statement. “You mean you have to be quiet,” you remind her as your hands slip under her shirt. She lets out a soft whisper and you chuckle again. “See?” 

She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Shut up.”

After, you are holding Wanda in your arms as the pair of you settle down. You start to think about the future. Consider when exactly you will be ready to have another baby. It just seems like it's too late. Rachel is in middle school, she is grown up. When the kids are grown you're not supposed to have more, you're supposed to wait to have grandkids. Then you remind yourself that you are still young enough to have kids. In fact, this is how you have them the proper way. Or at least the way that stable adults have families. 

There's also the fact that Wanda might not want to have more kids. She did try to expand her family but it didn't work and instead her family fell apart. You hate that she blames herself for what Vision did to their family. You clench your jaw at the thought and your arm tenses up. Wanda notices and starts to rub your arm softly. 

“What's on your mind?” Wanda asks with eyes closed as she presses her head further into her pillow. 

You hesitate to speak. This isn't the time to ask about the future of your family with her. This is the time to hold her and worship her. To be present with her and not spinning around in your head. You kiss her cheek as you try to calm down and return to the moment with her. She looks so relaxed and comfortable. You don't want to change that. She deserves to be relaxed for a moment. 

“Nothing, it can wait until tomorrow,” you whisper as you loosen your hold on her. 

“Mmm no, we can talk now. If you need,” Wanda fights her sleep as she tries to open her eyes. You shake your head with a smile. 

“Go to sleep, we can talk about it tomorrow,” you repeat yourself as you caress her cheek. Wanda tries to hold onto consciousness a bit longer. It was a little early for bedtime but she was exhausted and perfectly satisfied. Every muscle in her body was asleep after the massage you had given her. As well as the many other things you did to pleasure her.

She doesn't fight you or her body anymore. She falls into a deep sleep and you follow shortly, once you're able to shut off your mind. 

You wake to her alarm and you curse yourself as you remember that you didn't set your phone up to charge. This wasn't meant to happen the way it did. But you only have yourself to blame as you find your dying phone. You quickly set it up to charge while you get ready. You brush your teeth and get dressed in the clothes you wore the day before. Wanda showers and goes through her morning routine. While she does, you head down stairs to make coffee for her and yourself. 

As you're pouring the coffee into the mugs, Wanda is walking down with wet hair and a casual outfit. “No meetings today?” You ask as you slide her mug towards her. She typically dresses up a bit more when she has meetings with her co-workers and/or clients and potential clients. She shakes her head as she lifts her mug to her face and sits on the stool at the counter. You nod and check your watch to gauge how much time you have before going to work. 

“It's Sunday,” Wanda says as she swallows. You look at her like she's crazy until you realize that she is right. It's not Monday quite yet. You start laughing to yourself as you set your coffee down. 

“I'm all messed up from yesterday,” you laugh as you gesture towards your head. “Speaking of which,” you clear your throat and look into your mug. You bite your cheek nervously as you think of the best way to approach the subject. “Have you thought about having more kids?” You ask with your eyes bouncing between Wanda and your mug. 

Wanda sets her mug down and clears her throat. “I think I'm going to need this coffee to kick in before I'm ready to have that conversation.” You nod in agreement and scratch the back of your head with a nervous laugh. She was right, this was not something you talk about first thing in the morning. 

So you ask her how she slept and if she was hungry. Then you make her some breakfast, as you're cooking the aroma wakes her mother so you make enough for all three of you. Then the topic of conversation becomes her mother and the book club. Apparently, the meeting was less about the book and more about gossip as you listen to stories about people you've never met and may never meet in your life. 

Once everyone is done eating, you try to wash the dishes but Ms. Maximoff refuses to allow you to since you made the breakfast. She has Wanda clean them on her own while she traps you in a longer conversation about you and your future. Your girlfriend tries to spare you but her mother is very insistent. You stumble your way through some answers since some of her questions are questions you have yourself. 

She starts to ease up on you and starts to go on and on about her life and gossip from around her neighborhood. The scandals of the elder community. You react as though you care that Marjorie is sleeping with Thom and Chad, which makes you realize there are elders with the name Chad, without either knowing. Or that you sympathize with the 

After a while, Wanda gives you the signal that she is ready to talk. You nod and attempt to end the conversation with her mother. You fail miserably and Wanda has to come to your rescue. 

“Mom, hey, I need to take Y/n from you,” she says as she pulls on you to rise from your seat. 

“Oh but we're having so much fun! I haven't even gone over what David over on the corner house might be up to. Giant garbage bags, every other week. We think it's bodies or-” 

“Mom,” Wanda interrupts. “I’m taking my partner back. Okay?” She pulls you closer to her and Ms. Maximoff laughs. She waves the two of you off and says that she needs to get started on her day anyway. You turn to Wanda with a shrug. 

The two of you walk to her bedroom to privately discuss. Wanda shuts her bedroom door and you walk around her room. Looking at her photos as you usually do. Wanda sits on her bed with her back against the headboard. Her eyes follow your every move as she thinks about your question. She can have more kids. She talked with her gynecologist at her most recent check up just in case this conversation ever did come up. Her doctor said she had never seen such clean results from Wanda. She assured her that she would be fine to have another baby, maybe ever two of she desired.

But did Wanda want to have another baby? Her boys are so close to becoming teenagers. Your daughter is right there as well. Would it be wise for the two of you to have another baby? 

“I don't know how I feel about intentionally trying for a baby at this point in my life.” Wanda starts, grabbing your attention away from the photo of her on her first day of college. “I have two pre-teenage boys who can be a handful at times and are already struggling with the younger siblings they have from their father. I don't know if I want to contribute to their insecurities by having another child,” she expressed her concerns when it comes to her boys.

You nod as you join her on the bed. You sit in front of her just next to her legs. You reach for her hand and she willingly gives you her hand. “Hey, I'm not even certain I want another kid. I was only asking because I keep saying no to Jean. I don't want you to think I'm saying no to you.” 

Wanda looks at you and tilts her head. “If I'm honest, I didn't consider that. I know that the situation with Jean and what's happening between us are completely separate things. So that didn't cross my mind,” she explains that your worries aren't hers in that regard.

“Well, that's reassuring,” you chuckle softly because you feel a little ridiculous about making that assumption. “I'm open to the idea with you. But I'm fine if you don't want to go through another pregnancy.” 

Wanda pulls your hand closer towards her. She looks at the palm of your hand and traces the lines with her finger tip. She thinks about the art you make with this hand. The pleasures you've brought her with this hand. The tears you've wiped from her face. The food you've made. Then she thinks about you holding her pregnant belly when the weight gets to be too much for her. She thinks about you holding her child in this hand. Butterflies flutter in her stomach at the idea. 

“Let's just… if it happens, we'll talk about it then,” she says softly. “We'll go over our options at that time. But let's not make a thing of it. We don't need to start telling people about us and including that we're trying. We can just,” she shrugs as she drops your hand and places her arms around your shoulders as she leans forward. “Well we haven't even discussed marriage yet but knowing your track record, kids are what come first.” She teases and your eyes widen momentarily to show your shock and amusement of the statement. 

“Of course, with most people they just get a sappy speech and a ring. With me, you get real commitment,” you add jokingly which makes the two of you laugh. You lean closer and kiss her lips. “You're right. We need to be talking about marriage and our commitment to each other before we talk about having kids. I only brought it up because of everything that's going on right now.”

Wanda smirks, “I know honey, that's why I entertained the conversation without shutting you down. It's one of the many topics of conversation we should have before going straight to the marriage of it all. You know? What if we got married and weren't on the same page about this?”

You nod as you agree, “It's exactly why I'm glad we're taking things slow. I would love to whisk you away to Vegas and elope. And I probably would have if we'd have met at a different time in our lives. But we both have a lot to consider outside of ourselves.” 

Wanda's thumb moves back and forth on your neck. “You're a very wise and considerate person, Y/n. What did I ever do to deserve you?” Her eyes are locked on yours as she searches for any kind of malice or false intentions. All she finds is kindness. She cannot fathom what her life would be like had you not made yourself part of it. 

“Have an ex with poor taste in liquor,” you remark on the first conversation you ever had with her. She smiles. 

“I was a mess,” she states as she bites her bottom lip and drops her face shyly. 

You nod in agreement. “You were, and I didn't want to seem like some creep going after vulnerable people by talking to you. By the way, my intentions were pure. That night.” You point between the two of you. “I never had this goal in mind until the night we hung out after my camping trip.” 

She looks back up, a little shocked by this news. Especially since you ended up dating someone else after that night. “Really? So why go after Daisy?” She asks as she looks over your features. Taking in every detail of your face. Your jawline, your smooth skin with a chicken pox scar on your forehead. She loves every detail of you. 

You shrug as you try to remember that time. It was only several months ago. Or was it a year ago by now? It feels like a lifetime ago. “Fear, insecurities, and a long list of other reasons that don't make a lot of sense but at the same time they do. I mean, we're still afraid to be together.” 

Wanda nods as she listens to you explain. You're not wrong there. She was pushing you away for weeks because of how afraid she is to be in love with you. “I'm not anymore. Afraid, I mean. I love you and I only want to be with you. I hope forever but you never know.” 

You chuckle at her last comment and kiss her on the lips. “Yeah, you never know.” She smiles before leaning in for another kiss. You rub the spots on her back where you have your hands placed. You continue to pull her closer and closer as the kiss continues. You love her and you can't wait to tell everyone.

Chapter 26

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[looseratinthegarage]

Slashers S/O getting their period. Maybe?

I haven’t done a request in so long- but I’m on my period rn and felt inspired to write this! Enjoy to anyone who still follows me after my many disappearances.

S/O getting their period

Michael

Michael notices everything. And I mean everything. You’ve been more irritable lately but he hasn’t been able to deduce why… He enters the bathroom to use it when he sees strange wrappers in the trash. His first thought is that you’ve been hiding candy from him and he’s pissed. But when he unwraps it he sees a bloody pad/tampon. He stares through the item for a moment, trying to process what the hell is happening. He then throws it on the ground and stomps down stairs. You’re sitting on the couch playing the new Zelda Tears of the Kingdom game. He then takes the controller out of your hand and throws it to the side. He lifts up your shit and sifts through your hair for an injury or any blood.

“M-Michael!? What are you doing?” You say with surprise. He then grabs your pants and takes them off, leaving you in your undergarments. He is able to see that you are wearing the same thing he found in the trash. I points and looks concerned

“I-I’m just on my period! I’m fine..” You blush heavily and reassure your boyfriend that you’re not dying.

He doesn’t know what to do. His mom taught him about this stuff when he was a boy, but he only knows the basics. He’ll at first not understand why you’re being so ‘dramatic’ about everything. But when he realizes it really does hurt, he’ll try to help you, in his own little Michael way of course.

Thomas

Thomas wakes up for the day and stretches his arms. He feels something wet in the bed next to him. He lifts his hand and sees blood. He instantly panics and looks down at you. He rips the covers off of you and sees a large red stain underneath you. He shakes you awake.

“Huh- what? Baby, is there something wrong…?” You say half asleep. He points to the stain and your stomach drops.

“Oh god I’m so sorry Thomas! I’ve been trying to use cloth for my period because we don’t have pads/tampons- oh and now I’ve stained your sheets..” You look apologetic and absolutely mortified. But as soon as he hears ‘period’ he relaxes. His mama raised him right, so he doesn’t make you feel bad about leaking on the bed.

He picks you up and takes you to the bathroom. He runs you a warm bath and puts bubbles in it. He kisses your forehead then walks back into his room. He takes off the sheets and brings them outside to be washed.

Throughout the day he checks on you, often getting yelled at Hoyt for ‘slacking off’. He brings you teas, chocolate, snacks, meals- anything you need. His hands are incredibly warm, so in the night he holds you close to him, putting his hand over your stomach, soothing the cramps.

Yautja

You and your mate were training. You were running obstacle courses, they’re mad for yautja so they’re different. Think ninja warrior stuff. While running and jumping and climbing your pad shifts in your underwear and the flood gates open. You have blood running down your leg, but you’re too focused to notice.. but your mate does. He looks concerned.

“Bleeding. Why?” He uses the least amount of English possible to convey himself.

“Huh?” You stop at one of the platforms and then feel it running down your leg. You look down and feel mortified as your period blood runs down your leg for all to see.

“O-Oh god… sorry about that..” You also notice you’ve gotten blood on the course. You cover your face in embarrassment as your mate walks up to you.

“Are you hurt?” He asks softly, putting his clawed hand on your shoulder.

“I-It’s just my period. It’s similar to the thing that happens to some yautja after the breeding season, if they haven’t gotten pregnant…” You say embarrassedly and a bit shyly.

“Very well.” He seems unphased by it, happy to know you’re not hurt and that it’s just a natural occurrence.

“Why are you hiding from me? Blood does not scare a warrior such as I.” He purrs and runs his finger down your bloody leg. He then brings it up to his mouth and licks it off with his tongue.

You blush and nod, hugging him. He gives you yautja natural remedies for your period. If you have extreme cramps or excessive bleeding he’ll use some medicine or even quick surgery to fix the problem. Don’t worry, yautja pain meds are a lifesaver. You practically feel nothing, just a little sore is all. He will take care of you the best he knows how, and don’t be afraid to give him pointers. He’ll take notes.

[peachetteprice]

Stern Captain John Price...

...Who is a total dog guy through-and-through but eventually succumbs to your cat's pretty face. It isn't an evening with him in your apartment without him muttering, whilst he's cooking;

"What?"

"Hey!"

"What's the matter, lovie?"

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Dearie me, you're very vocal today, ain't ya?"

Every time she meows for attention. In a voice so tender that you know he's never used on you. He relentlessly volunteers to feed the poor thing and asks if she can have more biscuits, despite your warnings that the vet advised not to over-feed her (because she's the most determined scavenger you know - you'd think she was a character on Lost with how desperately she screeches for any morsel of food in her immediate vicinity), but he still frowns, waits five minutes, then sneaks her a handful of biscuits - from his palm, which she gladly takes, because again, Lost, as well as him knowing that you'll hear it if they clatter into the dish - all the while, during which, he ensures via a dozen glances over his shoulder that you aren't about to chastise him for it.

Sweet John thinks you haven't noticed the extra chunkiness around her primordial pouch, but you have - you're just too kind to say anything about it (and you secretly adore the way his eyebrows raise whenever you announce that it's feeding time).

Do not be deceived that he won't still insist that he's a dog person.

Because he will.

Every damn time he comes around will he see your cat, fold his arms and say "you know, I'm more of a dog person, I am", only to rush to the couch and wait patiently - never staring, never moving a muscle because he initially assumes all cats are jittery, distrustful creatures worthy of the attention of a God, not a mere mortal such as himself (and he's not wrong with half of that drivel) - until she clambours on his lap and curls into a shrimp.

He gasps the first time it happens and exclaims;

"Love!" And tilts his head to her like she's a statue that he needs a secondary opinion to be given of whether it's moved before he checks (it has not).

Unfortunately, with all of the sweet things he does, he also actively asks if there's any housework to be done whilst he's over. Oh, because he wants to do it like the gentleman he is, considering you routinely give up your bed, body, and fridge for him? No. Silly! He wants to make sure you're running around like a headless chicken so that he can have a few more minutes of your cat sleeping in his lap, because as soon as your arse hits the cushions, she chirps up and crawls over to yours, instead.

He's a little bit confused when it comes to cats. He often watches her sleep, palms his beard, gives her a point - the same one he gives when he tells his boys off - and asks, most sincerely;

"Is she comfy like that, love? Won't her head ache after a while?"

But, oh, John, she's loafing! It's her natural state.

It takes him a long while to adjust to the various positions in which she clumps, the variable number of nicknames you give her on the daily, and the variety of noises your lips make as you call her to you, but John's a fast learner. Soon enough, she'd rather saunter his way and arch herself along his shin with a saccharine meow than respond to the fact that she needs flea-ing, even if you need her here, now.

Otherwise, she'll dirty the place up, and John'll complain about having an itchy beard again!

And we can't have that happen, because he spent all of ten minutes combing his beard - the same one she nuzzled her chin up against a few days prior - whilst you were undressed in bed, sighing, somewhat cold, waiting until he'd checked it thoroughly before he gave himself the all clear to eat you out until you came.

And the very next morning, what did he do?

He opened the bedroom door - only wearing his boxers - and carted her in to wake you up, yowling and purring. And, though you love her, and you wish nothing but happiness for her, it was something of a rude awakening when you'd rather be fast asleep, repenting for the hours of sleep you'd lost from being fucked within an inch of your life. It's something he catches onto, thank God, as he scoops her up by the belly - shit, he's getting really good at that - and tosses her out of the room, before sinking into the sheets once more to pepper kisses along your bare skin until, finally, begrudgingly, you wake up and he can play with her again!

(Oh, but he'll never admit he actually likes the thing. No. Never. Any emotion resembling that of pleasure is purely on behalf of you. It's what he thinks you'd like... and, with that being said...)

God forbid you make the mistake of mentioning wanting another cat because as soon as you do, he'll slam his phone on the counter, give you a positively wide-eyed stare - almost like a kid on Christmas - and insist that you should. Well, only because your cat needs a friend whilst you're both gone (despite the fact that she's four years old already...)

And, of course, with that territory comes a dozen screenshots of cats for adoption from Pets4Homes, Pre-loved and various animal trust websites that he think will be a perfect fit for your cat - when he really should be finalising paperwork - complete with a bemoaning message of:

Not trying to sway you in any direction, gorgeous.

Except he is.

Oh, and... what's that? Oh, yeah. It fucking works.

Because barely three months after he made his mark in your flat, are you placing a carrier containing a little tortoiseshell kitten (his favourite listing that he sent on the daily, and practically wa-hey-ed with delight during a very very serious briefing with Laswell at the prospect of being home that night to meet the kiddo) before the closed carrier of your cat, and - almost as if it was fate, played by the hand of God himself (John, that is) - they're more than happy to co-habit, and John's soon finding ways to sneak them both shreds of leftover roast chicken every Sunday.

The cheeky sod.

| Masterlist |

[hanrinz]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ HOLD ME TIGHT — RIN ITOSHI.

wherein rin finds so many excuses just to hold your hands.

rin likes holding your hands a lot, a gesture you haven't noticed much because of the excuses he has accompanying it. you think it was really nice of him, offering you to take his hands like you're the one who needs it.

but, now that reo had pointed out whenever you were all together, your boyfriend's hands never leaving yours.

wanting to test what your friend has told you, looking out for the times rin would hold your hands.

one.

you went to a carnival, having him drag here with you as you excitedly enter, your eyes now shimmering like a kid going to the playground for the very first time and rin only smiles at you.

you were quick on your feet, already trailing off to the stalls, the carnival could offer. almost vanishing from the sea of people, rin was quick to follow you and grab a hold of hands. muttering about something like, “you might get lost” or “don't go off running like that” realizing this was your boyfriend's way of having to hold your hand, even though he fully knows well, he's gonna find you anyway.

a laugh escapes your lips, you reply to him with an “okay, rinnie,” as you let rin drag you to the stalls you like. your boyfriend was cute.

two.

you were simply out shopping for groceries, a routine you have developed over the months of living together. as you walk to the store, rin suddenly asks you.

“are your hands cold?”

oh, how convenient...

your hands are cold, yes. but the way rin looks at you and your hands made you smile, your boyfriend was a schemer, cunning and full of deceit but, that's okay. you like how he's finding ways in holding your hands, you wonder if he'll run out of excuses soon.

you only smile at him, nodding as you play coy from his acts. his hands were warm, you can't really complain, when he holds your hand like this, swinging it a little from how giddy you feel.

“what are you smiling for?”

“nothing~” you sing-song, he raises a brow in suspicion, but was quick to let it go, thinking of nothing much about it, just you being you.

three.

rin doesn't call your name, when he likes to show you something. no, he doesn't. even though it is much more convenient having to call you over than making the effort in looking for you and dragging you by your hands.

“c’mere, saw that book you've been talking about the past week,” he said, leading you up to where he found it. and the wide grin you have in your face was his reward for having to find you. you squeeze his hands and hug him, giving a kiss on his cheeks as you start gushing on how much you've been looking for this book everywhere and he listens to you, with an undivided attention.

you almost forgot about your mission, but when you walk home with rin, with him interlacing his hands all naturally with yours, you couldn't help, but to feel all too happy with your day with him.

and by the fourth time, rin holds your hand, you have decided to confront him.

you were now both studying in his room, a small table was set up, with papers and books all stacked up and a little placed messily, but you don't mind.

as you feel a hand taking up yours, you look up from the material you were studying. you see rin reading with so much concentration, like he hasn't noticed how his hands come to seek yours, rubbing circles with his thumbs.

“you know, you can always hold my hands without excuses right, rin?” you asked, with a teasing smile hanging on your lips.

rin looks at you from his material and to your interlaced hands. to say he was kind of panicking on the inside, did you finally catch on? he sure hopes you do, he's running out of things to say just to hold your hands, he thinks.

“you need to hold my hands to read your textbook?” you tease at him.

“helps me concentrate,” he snorts, as he squeezes your hands.

“concentrate?” you giggle at his excuse once again, “okayyy, whatever you say, rinnie,” you squeeze back, returning your attention to studying, a smile making its way to your face.

maybe this would be your new motivation to study well.

◞♡ so sorry my mind just shut down for this </3 likes & reblogs are highly appreciated!