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The pleasure! The joy!
I made it to the summit of Mont Ventoux today! ⛰🎉💪 2nd attempt yay!
Keep reading for the full report and more pics 😊
What a day! Everything went according to plan and sooo well. I'm still stunned.
So I rented this super cool e-race bike. Unfortunately I chose the frame a little too small but anyway, it worked OK. I set out from Malaucène at 13:30 and reached the summit after 1.35 hours. Which is pretty insane speed for the 22 km climb. I felt almost bad everytime I passed someone going up "the honest way". I was flying up the road at about 12/14 km/h on average. The fastest speed being 28.5 km/h. And now let me tell you - this was still sport and an effort! It's by no means riding like on a motorbike. It was still a matter of pedalling and pedalling and pedalling and the sun burning down on me. Also, always skipping between the 3 levels of support. I couldn't go full support all the way, the battery wouldn't have lasted that long. So, yeah, I am super proud and happy and it was so cool to eventually take that famous pic in front of the summit sign. I have such a massive respect for everyone who mad it up there by pure muscle power. And many were even riding much further than only the 22 km climb. They've come from other towns and had quite a journey behind them as I learned from some. There was a couple, I think on their honeymoon because the woman was wearing a veil under her helmet, and they reached the top together by muscle power. They were so cute.
Before I continue, take a guess what hurt the most after over 40 km on that bike?
a) the legs
b) the bottom/lady parts
c) fingers
Ok, so, I'm up there, happy, proud, enjoying the stunning views and a caffeine bar but didn't have too much time as I had to return the rented bike soon. 🥲 NOW - the descent! Oh. My. Lord! As much as it was fun, it was scary! Thanks to the little bike computer I could see my speed. The average was about 40 km/h with a peak at almost 60 km/h which was freaking scary! I was literally flying. On slippery flat pedals, on a too small bike. Lol. I tried to imagine what it would be like going down over 70 km/h, let alone 100 km/h. Everyone who does that must be freaking nuts! I mean, the road here was shared with cars, motorbikes, camper vans, walkers even (oh and one guy on roller skis) so no way to go faster than that and not without the right shoes and pedals. That's for another day 🤫
So, what hurt the most? The fingers! Jfc, braking for 22 km is hard! I had to take 3 breaks on the way down to shake my numb fingers back to life. Also they became sweaty and I was scared what'd happened if I slipped? So yeah, 2nd most: lady parts, because of the too small bike and the saddle was a bit too low 🙈 (but shoutout to the super bib shorts I bought here, great padding)
I arrived back in Malaucène much earlier than my "service car" ;) and had some time to chat some more with the very friendly rental dude. Told him I only started cycling a few weeks ago. His response was "Oh, congratulations!" (How sweet) and he had a cute doggo there minding the shop ☺
I could keep talking about today forever but I'll stop now. Here are some pics and one of a souvenir from the summit 👜😄
#can't believe how perfect the weather was#oh some scary wind on the way down#had to ride in the middle of the road not to be blown away#wobbled dramatically at one moment and my heart dropped but all good#also took a photo for and of a dude who raised his bike in front of the sign he was so proud#and that again made me happy#also one lady telling me bravo for making it 🙈#thanks for following my little journey#i'm back in one piece#had a wonderful dinner at a cute little restaurant in town to end this vacation#❤⛰🌬🚴🏽♀️#au revoir mont ventoux#personal
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they're hanging out!!!
more unnecessary photos under the cut!
#thank u people on twitter for following the journey to get here... it was a long road cause belphies a little bitch but we did it#obey me#obey me art#obey me nightbringer#omswd#belphegor#obey me belphegor#obey me mc#obey me sheep mc#polymer clay figure#anime figure#obey me figure#asmo next hopefully... someday LOL#i would like to do the youtuber thing and post a video about the making of this figure but video editing is not my passion soooo
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Birthday time :D
I doodled this on the 18th, figured it’d be nice to save for today.
This past year has been the most wildest year of my life. To everyone I’ve come to known, old and new.
You mean the fucking world to me. Here’s for an even better rest of our year, together.
@f0rtunesfuture @amberluvsbugs @garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @kandidandi @just-a-drawing-bean @cacaocheri @bunmuffin @sleepykas @xitsensunmoon @justaduckarts @skizabaa @starsketchez @fernzwing @smoljeanius @ilsole @tuzesdays @magicclownjuice @ohno-the-sun
(If I haven’t tagged you there is a Very(tm) high chance I am either unsure if you’d want to be tagged or too much of a coward to do it anyways but that does not mean you’d mean less <3)
#nebula art and doodles#i was gonna digitalize this but i thought it’d be funny if it wasnt#thank you to everyone who has come with me on this wild journey#only about 7-8 months since i first joined the dca fandom#since i joined ao3 and tumblr#and ever since then i have made some fucking incredible friends#i am so goddamn thankful to every single one of you fuckers /aff#for every goofy bit#every silly question i get#every ounce of serotonin ive gotten for people enjoying my things#you’ve all made my day just a little bit better for everytime i see someone like the things i create#to all my followers#to all my mutuals#to all my friends#thank you for making my life better#thank you for everything#i know for a lot of my moots i dont interact or talk to you#but do know i see you#and i appreciate you for sticking around#feeling sentimental as fuck thumbs up#anyways the fact that i share a birthday with sonic the fucking hedgehog sure is something#gotta go fast i guess
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Junicorn Day 30: Stained Glass
#junicorn#unicorns#stained glass#this was a fun little challenge to try and replicate actual glass n stuff#now i want it to be real#thanks for following my junicorn journey
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An incredibly lazy wee doodle of barn swallows since I'm struggling to sleep and going back to my teenage ritual of drawing birds far too late into the night. Where I live, it will soon be time for the swallows to leave and make their bi-annual 8000 mile migration all the way to South Africa. Summer goes with them, and already my late North European nights seem to be turning dark so soon. A couple of months ago the night would just be a muted blue until dawn would crack with a skylark's song at 3am, and from now it will just be a couple of months until the black sets in before the afternoon ends.
It genuinely makes me want to cry thinking about these matchbox sized little beings throwing themselves into that endless blue all in pursuit of airborne insects, those small bodies making their way over the widening, waterless Sahara, that 40 day excursion that, by mid-October, will be over. How long a journey that seems, how short for a being smaller than my hand.
I'll miss them as much as I'll miss the sun until my late-March birthday comes along again and the spring sky is briefly interrupted by their sudden return, their tumbling bodies celebrating the world waking up again, back - somehow, dare I project a sense of sentiment, remembering - to the very same nests they'd left behind just months ago.
#my art#my witterings#im very sentimental and sleep deprived and i keep wanting to sob about birds lol#but its that grateful desperate glimmery feeling of just.#i guess awe that i share this planet and this movement of seasons and rhyme of life with all these beautiful things#i wonder if birds feel something like a brewing wanderlust as the time comes#i wonder if they feel that same tug i do in my heart everytime summer comes along#that sense of impending flight that need to go into the night and wake up somewhere new#somewhere achingly familiar#the way the pressure and the smell of the air changes#swallows are passerines too so they likely evolved from australia however many million of years ago#what drives birds to make those journeys#what must it feel like to follow the wind currents and the stars and the magnetic pull of the earth#sigh sigh sigh#i know it isnt all romance but sighhh if i cant romantacise these wee flittery dinosaurs what can i romantacise#imagine everything those swallows have seen#over vineyards over endless fields over desert#the atlas mountains#the congo rainforest#skirting the cape#just so impossible to imagine the bredth of that experience#all in such a wee bird#aw for it to come back to its own wee rooftop eave#and i get the chance to see them? every year? listen to their joyful little twittery song and witness the young finding their wings in june#thank you thank you thank you
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i feel physically ill whenever i have to defend my opinion
#but i’ll do it#and i’ll do it respectfully#not to toot my own little horn but a few years back i had a month long conversation with a young person who was a few short steps away from#being a full blown terf. like their blog was full of it. but in the few personal posts i saw i could see something i resonated with prior t#my own journey into understanding of gender#and i talked them down from it#i have a sc of their final message to me hold on#it was so cool. i wish it was something i could encourage but i think i was just lucky with who i got. it was so saddeningly easy to disput#every point they brought up#'you were so kind and respectful to me despite being online. thats like super cool of you. thanks for helping me grow as a person. it#honestly feels a lot better to not be so full of hate...' it goes on from there but u get the point.#i do not believe in debate bros. because i dont think you can win in a 'battle' of opinions. but i do heavily believe in emotional labour#being your job as an ally#the person i spoke to left still not believing in my gender identity. but i am more than fine with that. because that was not my aim#i just needed them to see trans women as people. full stop. and i managed that with a few short disputes and the examples of 2 teenage girl#with large online followings#it was very easy#and yes i did feel physically ill for the entire month i did it. you just gotta do it scared
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Play Pretend Pt 2 | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader
Summary: Lightning McQueen realises he misses Elle Woods. Or, when Charles finds out your goals always had him in mind, he realises he should've done the same.
Warnings: Swearing. Redemption. Miscommunication
Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest
2024 timeline and beyond
Not really impressed with this one so apologies in advance
Main Masterlist
prev.
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YourUserName just posted
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and others
YourUserName i declare my date for the weekend guilty of being too cute and snuggly
3,558 comments
charles_leclerc i hope he is behaving
→ YourUserName he pissed in my slipper.
→ charles_leclerc how do you know it was him? whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?
→ YourUserName he fell asleep at the scene of the crime
maxverstappen1 what a cute little terror
→ YourUserName he’s forcing me to watch the imola highlights so he can watch his favourite driver win again
→ maxverstappen1 🦁🦁
→ danielricciardo that is such a lie, you literally told me yesterday that i was his favourite driver
→ arthur_leclerc you are all forgetting that his uncle is his favourite driver
lilymhe sleepy boy
→ YourUserName he wore himself out running away with my highlighters
YourBestFriend okay, these pics are cute but i still don’t forgive him for eating my pizza
→ YourUserName don’t tell the internet i let him have pizza, you’ll get me into trouble with his father
→ arthur_leclerc don’t make me tell on you
→ YourUserName i thought you still liked me :(
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YourUserName just posted
liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and others
YourUserName it’s official, your honour 🎓
4,007 comments
charles_leclerc leo and i are so proud of you, y/n/n. you worked so hard for this. enjoy every moment, you deserve it
→ YourUserName tell leo thank you for the cake. I’ll save him some for later ;)
→ User1 the wink? the wink! what does the wink mean?
User2 charles and y/n are the definition of exes who cannot stay away from each other. they don’t follow each other but they’re always lurking haha
schecoperez congratulations, y/n. look forward to seeing you soon
→ YourUserName thank you for the chocolates!
maxverstappen1 congratulations, y/n. can’t wait to see what you’ll do next
→ YourUserName kick your ass in karting
→ maxverstappen1 keep dreaming
→ YourUserName i think yesterday i proved i can achieve my dreams
User3 anyone else finding the red bull boys’ comments odd?
→ User4 no, they’re just being supportive like the rest of the grid?
danielricciardo fucking ace! well done, y/n. go forth and kick some ass
→ YourUserName who let you out of the old folk’s home
georgerussell63 how shitfaced did you get last night considering your graduation post is a day late
→ landonorris mate, she was worse than me
→ YourUserName don’t tell people that! i'm a lady
→ landonorris a lady who threw up on her kebab and then cried until pierre bought you a new one
logansargeant woohoo 🥳 it was lovely to be able to celebrate with you last night. thank you for inviting me
→ YourUserName thank you for coming! and teaching me some cool new moves
→ logansargeant yeah, let’s not talk about those. i think i put my hip out
→ danielricciardo and they call me old!
yukitsunoda0511 let’s go! well done, y/n!
lilymhe iconic elle woods behaviour
→ YourUserName what, like it’s hard
→ alex_albon getting you to drink water last night was hard
→ YourUserName 👎🏻👎🏻
redbullracing congratulations, y/n. we never doubted that you could do it
→ User5 ariana, what are you doing here
arthur_leclerc oh god, you are going to never shut up about this are you
→ YourUserName just say you’re proud of me and move on. i saw the giant bouquet of flowers, and don’t say they were from maman because i recognised your handwriting
→ arthur_leclerc damn.
YourUserName a big thank you to everyone who has supported me along this journey. to those who came to support me last night and put up with my awful drunken singing. and I suppose a thank you to the F1 grid for ensuring my home looks like a makeshift florist. i love the flowers but i will be chasing bees out of my home for at least a week
User6 they all got her flowers 🥹
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redbullracing just posted
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and others
redbullracing no, it’s not hearsay. Y/N L/N truly has joined the Red Bull family as an intern for our legal term. we look forward to seeing what she can do, and hopefully welcoming her into the fold full-time tagged: YourUserName
7,377 comments
maxverstappen1 um, excuse me, why the checo hat
→ YourUserName obviously because he is the #1 choice to support
→ maxverstappen1 my insta handle indicates that i’m #1
→ YourUserName that was so cheesy. i hope it gave kelly the ick
schecoperez that is a perfect hat
→ YourUserName i agree. if you sign it for me, i bet i can get it to sell for a fair bit on ebay
→ redbullracing don’t worry. we’ve got loads you can have
User7 babe broke up with THE charles leclerc and then went, and now i’m going to become besties with your rival
danielricciardo i think she should just be my personal legal aide
→ YourUserName sounds like that’ll involve an awful lot of work for somebody who has just started
→ danielricciardo i’m sorry, are you saying i’m a handful?
→ YourUserName i didn’t think you’d understand me if i spelt it
landonorris you know, if you joined mclaren, we could provide you with a papaya jacket
→ YourUserName i wasn’t aware you had any openings
→ landonorris you’d do a great job doing my washing
→ YourUserName 🖕🏻🖕🏻
User8 can somebody check on charles? make sure he’s still alive after this news
→ User9 did you see that he liked this and then unliked?
georgerussell63 this is mercedes amg erasure
→ maxverstappen1 you’ll get over it but you won’t get y/n
pierregasly congratulations, y/n/n. it’ll be nice to still see you around the paddock again
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charles_leclerc just posted
liked by YourUserName, scuderiaferrari and others
charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️ thank you for everything, i love you all
20,125 comments
oscarpiastri congrats bro
→ User1 that’s no way to speak to your father
YourUserName leo and i are so incredibly proud of you charles. you deserve this, enjoy tonight x
→ charles_leclerc tell leo i can’t wait to celebrate with him tomorrow when i’m sober, and thank you for the gift x
→ User2 i love that they still don’t follow each other but are congratulating each other on their greatest achievements so far
→ User3 the kisses!!!!
User4 she should’ve been in the paddock
→ User5 she was! arthur posted a story celebrating, and you can catch a glimpse of her in the background
arthur_leclerc lets goooo ❤️
scuderiaferrari bravo charles!! so proud ❤️ here’s to many more
User7 the form on that dive 🍑
→ thisisnoty/n talk about buns of steel
→ User8 is this y/n’s secret account?
YourBestFriend congratulations, charles. we watched you cross the finish line and couldn't have been prouder
→ User9 we? who is we?
→ User10 we all know there’s no way y/n would miss his monaco win, even if they’re not together
YourMum félicitations, charlie. so proud to watch you grow from the teenager to this amazing man
→ charles_leclerc merci maman l/n. thank you for watching and supporting me <3
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YourUserName just posted
liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others
YourUserName fit for the weekend
7,220 comments
danielricciardo i can’t believe max didn’t burst into flames being that close to a ferrari jacket
→ YourUserName don’t be silly. he wanted to steal it
→ maxverstappen1 don’t tell lies. i kicked her out of the garage for her betrayal
redbullracing and why aren’t you in uniform
→ YourUserName i was given the weekend off?
→ scuderiaferrari forza ferrari
→ redbullracing then what were you doing in our garage
charles_leclerc leo said you need to come back from mclaren because you ran off with his rope toy
→ YourUserName oh, that’s what leo told you, was it?
User11 okay but is this confirmation that she was in the ferrari garage for charles?
oscarpiastri you left your 81 cap in hospitality
→ landonorris she did that on purpose because the 4 cap was much better
→ YourUserName @ oscarpiastri can you bring it to family dinner for me?
User12 everyone is a ferrari fan
User13 wait, wait, wait. family dinner?! who’s in attendance, yn!!
User14 charles has followed her again!!!
→ User15 i genuinely thought he would follow max before he followed y/n again
pierregasly not the best weekend for alpine but as a die hard chary/n shipper, it was a perfect weekend
(comment deleted)
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1 year later
charles_leclerc just posted
liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and others
charles_leclerc mon coeur, the day i met you, i was a silly teenage boy who spilt his drink over you at a karting event in a way to gain your attention. and now, many years later, i can proudly call myself your fiance. every moment spent with you feels like standing on top of that podium. thank you for allowing me to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of our lives
(to the general public, y/n says you have to be nice to me about my emotional caption. don’t forget, she’s a licenced lawyer now and can sue you all for defamation)
13,841 comments
pierregasly and to this day, i stand by the fact that telling you to spill your drink on her was the perfect way to gain her attention.
→ YourUserName i still can’t believe charles took your advice on how to flirt with women
→ pierregasly it worked though, didn’t it? and i am the proud boyfriend of beautiful kiks so, i am clearly master
→ YourUserName ew, keep your bedroom stuff to yourself
→ pierregasly you just lost your wedding present
oscarpiastri congrats you guys 🧡 i am so happy for you, my dad and future step-mother
→ YourUserName and you just got yourself banned from family dinner. i'm too young to be called stepmother
scuderiaferrari i think the theme should be disney cars
liked by YourUserName
landonorris simp
→ charles_leclerc @ YourUserName i told you he’d be mean
→ YourUserName sorry bebe but i’m not suing lando. his fans are tougher than i am
User1 charles can you fight? ‘cause your gf is too hot for you
→ charles_leclerc *fiancee
georgerussell63 mate, the fact that you managed to convince her to forgive you AND agree to marry you a year later
→ alex_albon it’s the dimples. who can resist
→ lilymhe is there something you’re not telling me?
→ alex_albon i’m in love with charles marc hervé perceval leclerc
→ YourUserName same
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YourUserName just posted
liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and others
YourUserName the evidence is conclusive. your papa and i cannot wait to meet you, only another 5 months to go
#BabyLeclercComing2026
17,309 comments
charles_leclerc je t’aime plus chaque jour. you are the light of my life, as well as the day you agreed to be mine forever, you have made me the happiest man
oscarpiastri i can’t believe i’m going to be a big brother
→ charles_leclerc the bestest big brother
→ User2 i love that this joke is still running two years later
scuderiaferrari all i’m hearing is that we have roughly 5 months to build a baby seat into charles’ car
pierregasly omg omg omg omg omg. stay calm, stay calm. it’s HAPPENING
→ francisca.cgomes why did you have to tell him? now i have to talk him out of buying elaborate gifts
→ charles_leclerc i love how you’re both acting like you weren’t told on the weekend
→ pierregasly i’m just so excited!
→ YourUserName @ francisca.cgomes has he stopped crying yet?
→ francisca.cgomes no
maxverstappen1 i am so happy for you y/n. baby leclerc will make such an adorable addition to the red bull garage. you will make an amazing mother after the way you have bossed checo and me around these past two years
→ YourUserName i think you mean, cared for and cherished, not bossed
User3 wait, but isn’t this the reason charles and y/n broke up two years ago
→ User4 they broke up because charles was talking about kids straight away and y/n wasn’t ready. they’ve now been married for a year so i’m guessing she’s ready now
liked by YourUserName
redbullracing brb working on building a baby play area in the office so you don’t have to worry about childcare. i’m a good babysitter and we can babyproof the garage. it'll be great!
→ User5 i think it’s safe to say everyone at red bull are excited for baby y/n
schecoperez felicidades y/n and charles. what lovely news. mucho amor to you both
danielricciardo i ate way too many cupcakes at the announcement party though. i swear the frosting changed something inside me
→ User6 you’re telling me that the grid were invited to the baby announcement 🥹 be still my beating heart
→ User7 and according to inside sources, a few of them cried
→ alex_albon whoever’s telling you that i cried, don’t listen to them!
→ lilymhe don't lie to the people
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charles_leclerc just posted
liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
charles_leclerc when your little man can’t decide if he wants to be like his maman or papa from one day to the next so he combines both for his 5th birthday
15,384 comments
YourUserName not featured is baby lec running around with a mini gavel sentencing everyone to prison whilst wearing his race helmet
alex_albon i still think my sentence was a bit harsh
→ lilymhe you deserved those 10 minutes on the naughty step, you ate all the mini doughnuts!
→ alex_albon yes but he finished it by smashing me in the kneecaps with the gavel
→ YourUserName yeah, he gets that from charles, sorry
→ charles_leclerc 😱
redbullracing happy birthday to our favourite leclerc! we hope to see you back in the paddock soon
→ charles_leclerc stop trying to steal my son, you already have my wife!
→ YourUserName and i thought i was your favourite leclerc!
→ User8 admin going to have some angry parents to contend with on sunday
maxverstappen1 i still think uncle max wins best present
→ YourUserName i can’t believe you had it engineered to go that fast
→ pierregasly yes but uncle pierre will be helping papa charles to repaint it so it’s not covered in red bull logos
→ maxverstappen1 @ YourUserName if he does that, i’m going to unfollow him again
→ YourUserName ffs pierre, i just got them to publicly make up, kiks, tell him
→ franscisca.cgomes behave yourself
jensonbutton little man clearly knows his mum is way cooler
liked by charles_leclerc
danielricciardo please stop inviting me to events where there are cupcakes. i have no control and your mini monster just laughed as i sobbed whilst shoving another one in my mouth
→ landonorris i don’t think you should say these things online
charles_leclerc also not featured is y/n crying all morning about her baby boy growing up
→ YourUserName charl, don’t lie to the fans. they all know you’re the one crying
→ charles_leclerc but he was so little, and he used to come to work with us and now he’s telling us he wants to be just like his clever mummy and his fast daddy and - i just cannot 😭
→ maxverstappen1 @ YourUserName like i said on your wedding day, are you sure this is the one you want to marry?
→ YourUserName afraid so
→ charles_leclerc i would divorce you but you are a very good lawyer and i do not imagine i would come out of it so well
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Requests welcome. I will be doing more Part 1s for some of the other drivers.
Baby Fever Angst Series
Tag list
@callsignwidow @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @lav3nder-haze @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @lemon-lav @minkyungseokie @bibissparkles @emryb @barcelonaloverf1life @willowpains @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @rlalliehayes @softtina @marvelfangirl04 @love-simon @peachiicherries @rosecentury
#baby fever angst#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc headcanon#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x reader
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Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: follow the journey of lando’s soft launch to reveal your relationship
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,302,382 others
landonorris: one shoulder up or two 🤔
67,505 comments
username1: anyone else notice the person who accidentally walked in midway through the stream tonight!?
username2: lando definitely had a girl over…
alex_albon: you must be desperate for content if this is what you’re posting 🙄
username3: why won’t you tell us who was round your apartment lando??
georgerussell63: how about neither of your elbows up you weird man
username4: I keep replaying it but I can’t work out anything about them…
username5: what if lando has a secret girlfriend or something
danielricciardo: you know it’s okay to look at a photo and change your mind about posting it
username6: not everyone rinsing lando in the comments 😂
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 1,937,605 others
landonorris: life’s been pretty good recently ☀️
58,391 comments
username7: any particular reason why that might be mr lando norris
carlossainz55: care to elaborate? 🤔
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 zooming over to ferrari now to fill you in
username8: wonder if it’s pretty good because of someone??
georgerussell63: glad to see you with a smile on your face buddy 🫶🏻
username9: is he hinting that this new girl has made his life better??
maxverstappen1: I wanna know all of the gossip too 😂
username10: I’d love to be the reason for lando’s smile fyi
username11: I’m more interested to know who even took these photos
oscarpiastri: I’m fed up of this new version of you, you’re too smiley to have around the garage now
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri sorry not sorry 🙃
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by team_quadrant, maxfewtrell and 1,492,606 others
landonorris: apparently if you find a girl who likes quadrant, she’s definitely a keeper ✨
78,301 comments
username12: this sounds like confirmation to me that lando has a girl
team_quadrant: girls who like quadrant = girls with good taste
username13: do you reckon that’s her in the photo ☺️
danielricciardo: ik a better brand of clothes that they could wear 😂
landonorris: @/danielricciardo quadrant > enchante 🤫
username14: really hoping this new girl likes quadrant so she can stick around forever
username15: I like quadrant…does that make me your girlfriend now??
charles_leclerc: I like quadrant but you’re not willing to date me…
username16: @/charles_leclerc also not a girl you clown
oscarpiastri: if I do a photo shoot with you do I get free merch too?
pierregasly: why am I so invested in being part of lando’s comment section lmao
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,594,706 others
landonorris: thank you for bringing so much positivity into my life 🫶🏻🥺
89,394 comments
danielricciardo: you’re welcome honey 😇
landonorris: @/danielricciardo you wish that I was talking to you
username17: look how perfect they look together wow
username18: it’s official, he’s actually managed to get a girlfriend
georgerussell63: congrats on not being the single friend anymore 👏🏻
carlossainz55: little lando norris finally got himself a girlfriend 😂
username19: I want to be happy but I so wish that this was me
username20: the look on his face 😭 I’m so happy he’s happy
charles_leclerc: if you want some tips on how to be a good boyfriend just zoom back to ferrari again
username21: my heart is so full - cheering for these guys all the way!!
username22: constantly telling myself not to be bitter that my dreams now won’t come true
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and 1,395,604 others
landonorris: race weekend with a first timer, luckily for her she picked the best team to support 🧡🏎️
89,483 comments
maxverstappen1: did she get a choice or did you force her to do this??
landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 she said she wanted to support the team with the most handsome driver 💁🏻♂️
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris she thinks I’m handsome awh
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻
username23: how have we not got a face reveal when she was literally at the race
username24: I never had lando down for a soft launch kinda guy
danielricciardo: did you even introduce her to all the teams on the grid, you know, let her make her on mind up??
username25: whoever she is she knows how to rock papaya
username26: omg the height difference is the sweetest
logansargeant: I remember when I used to hug you and you’d rest against my chest like that 😂
alex_albon: look at you being all cute and charming
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 1,022,494 others
landonorris: holidaying with my favourites 🌊☀️
89,504 comments
username27: eurgh lando you’re killing us with all these almost photos
maxfewtrell: I’m the number one out of the two of us though right??
landonorris: @/maxfewtrell whatever makes you feel better sweet cheeks
username28: my heart can’t cope with this for much longer
oscarpiastri: so you holidayed with your favourites and yet I’m here at home 🤔
username29: lando replacing oscar with his girlfriend is peak
username30: lando knows what he’s doing and this is so not fair
username31: I bet he’s laughing at all of us when he looks at his comments section
alex_albon: it’s alright for some 😂
username32: lando I’m on my knees pls just tell us more about who this lucky girl is
georgerussell63: I think your fans might turn on you soon if you don’t stop playing them 😂
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 1,302,493 others
landonorris: another race weekend with my best human there to cheer me on 💕☺️
99,398 comments
username33: FINALLY HE GAVE US WHAT WE WANT
username34: omg she’s absolutely gorgeous lando
username35: we won at last woooooo
alex_albon: still can’t believe your girlfriend supports mclaren 😭
oscarpiastri: don’t forget who the most handsome mclaren driver is tho 😂
username36: they look so in love together 💞
username37: I want to be jealous but how can I be when they look so cute
lilymhe: we’re double dating asap btw
danielricciardo: they don’t prepare you for when the kids grow up 🤧
landonorris: @/danielricciardo sorry dad 😭
username38: my heart has officially exploded 😂
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,948,502 others
landonorris: whoops they caught us 🥺
tagged: ynusername
138,849 comments
username39: these two are gonna be such a duo omg
username40: ah and he even tagged her 🤩🤩🤩
danielricciardo: my kids are the cutest things in the world
carlossainz55: smooooth operator 😂😂
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 high praise from you my friend 🫡
username41: thank goodness that the soft launch era is now over
username42: I’m already in love with them so much
username43: I don’t want to be yn anymore, I just want to be her best friend
charles_leclerc: congrats buddy 👏🏻👏🏻
alex_albon: stop making the rest of us feel single even though we’re also in relationships please
ynusername: ily 🥺🥺🥺
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 reaction#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#lando norris social media#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#lando norris au#lando norris x reader#formula 1 smau#formula 1 social media#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula one#f1 smau#f1 fic
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chapter 2: the aftermath a bridgerton!au
pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ after an eventful first ball after your debut, you continue the season with thinly veiled vexation towards gojo. but fate is not on your side; you and gojo keep encountering each other, matching fire with fire (7.8k)
a/n some parts of this chapter broke my brain to write but i kind of had fun! as always thank you to @/sinn-claire for beta reading :p i was going to say i'll try to have weekly updates but i don't want to jinx it lol
prev. the debutante | next. the manor
general masterlist | series masterlist
Dearest gentle reader,
It appears that Her Majesty has bestowed the coveted title of this season’s Diamond upon none other than Miss Itadori, who has indeed lived up to her newfound acclaim as the incomparable of the year. At the latest ball, our shining Diamond was quite occupied, with suitors lining up in such numbers that one might have thought them to be queuing for the royal throne itself. Furthermore, blooms were budding between many of the debutantes and gentlemen, including…..
...Yet, one particular couple captivated the attention of all: none other than Mister Satoru Gojo and our season’s Diamond. After having kept his words sparse and his attentions limited to none, Mister Gojo appeared utterly taken with Miss Itadori, conversing with her intimately on the dance floor. It seems your humble Author was indeed correct⸺Mister Gojo has entered the marriage market. However, the exclusivity he has adopted may not deter the determined maidens he seeks to avoid, for the Ambitious Mamas will no doubt perceive his selectiveness as a challenge to be overcome.
One cannot help but wonder if an announcement of particular interest will be made at the upcoming Gojo country house party. Although your Author has not yet laid eyes upon the guest list for the Duchess Gojo’s anticipated gathering, reliable sources suggest that nearly every eligible young lady of marriageable age will be journeying to Kent next week. The country house party is known to be a perilous affair. Married individuals often find themselves enjoying the company of someone other than their spouse, while the unwed frequently return to town betrothed with surprising haste.
Indeed, the most unexpected engagements often follow closely on the heels of such rustic diversions.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
Satoru had no intention of squandering his time this season⸺or at any time, for that matter.
The notion of love matches held little appeal to him, despite witnessing such a union firsthand in his own parents. Make no mistake, the Duke and Duchess Gojo enjoyed a happy marriage, and Satoru held both his father and mother in the highest regard. Yet, he was perfectly content on his own.
Being one of the strongest bachelors⸺both intellectually and physically⸺has been Satoru’s destiny. Ever since his ancestors had been blessed by the royal family with the dukedom, the Gojo family had made its goal to be the most powerful nobility and the closest to the royal family. (Which is still maintained in the status quo, because the Queen dotes on Satoru, inviting him for tea every fortnight. The Queen lavished him with overly sweet biscuits, and in return, Satoru provided her with the latest gossip from court).
But this responsibility doesn’t get fulfilled without independence; one had to accept the solitary truth that to be truly great was to remain unswayed by the fleeting pleasures of the world⸺love included.
Satoru had little time or interest for the other vices that tempted men of his station, such as lust. Contrary to the whispers circulating among the ton, Satoru had never indulged in the life of a rake or frequented brothels as many of his acquaintances did. Really, the allegations were, in truth, merely just a byproduct of his appearance and demeanor; with a young man with the stature, face, and eligibility of Satoru, the public would immediately like to slap on the label of “rake” due to his arrogant personality. Moreover, any encounters he had witnessed between men and women⸺whether dropping his friends off at brothels in his carriage after an evening at the gentleman’s club or overhearing flirtations at parties⸺struck him as shallow and an utter waste of time, especially when he was already a week behind on the ledgers and other official matters his father had entrusted to him. (He did have one indulgence, however: a weakness for gluttony, with an array of sweet confections as his loyal companions during long, sleepless nights.)
Marriage was an even greater burden. The thought of being accountable for a wife, and eventually children, seemed like a daunting task to Satoru. With sleepless nights spent on covering just a fraction of the business his father must do as a duke, Satoru was tired. He was exhausted⸺exhausted from the weight of responsibility, from striving to meet his father’s expectations, from seeking the Queen’s approval, from worrying over what Whistledown might print about him, and from the gossip of the businessmen with whom the Gojo family dealt.
And yet, despite this weariness, Satoru was gripped by an insatiable obsession with perfection, an obsession that only deepened his fatigue. He craved approval, power, and the flawless execution of his duties⸺desires that gnawed at him even as they threatened to consume him.
Which is exactly why he needed a perfect wife. A wife that was capable, could handle bothersome people⸺which he was steadily losing the patience to deal with⸺and a reliable companion. Someone that would reduce his stress, not add to it.
Satoru had spent all day lurking in the shadows as best as he could; being the most eligible bachelor did mean that brothers and sisters were coming up to him, singing praises of their debutante in an effort to capture his interest. But Satoru knew all too well that the loudest families often had the most to compensate for.
As ladies in white paraded before the crowd, many buckling under the weight of judgment and attention, Satoru prowled like a jungle cat, staying hidden in the throng, biding his time, and waiting for the right moment to strike.
What he noticed first about you was your way of carrying yourself. Even Auntie⸺the Queen⸺who, after seeing countless of girls today, had been incredibly bored, dragged her eyes over you in slightly more interest than she did for others. The moment you stepped through those grand doors into the court, it was evident to everyone that your stride was that of someone who understood her role and position in life⸺a confidence that set you apart from the other debutantes. Satoru’s eyes raked over you, observing you as your chest rose slightly as you took a breath in.
And then you smiled.
Satoru's eyes widened, just imperceptibly, as he watched your expression as you made your way to the Queen. He made sure to shake his expression off to a more nonchalant one as he watched your form walk. Lesser men than Satoru would die for your smile. Men, out of all traits a woman could possess, cherished a pretty visage the most. Yet, what your smile conveyed went beyond mere beauty; it embodied innocence and the qualities most esteemed in a demure bride (which Satoru knew was just all a show, but it was indeed indicative of your skill to put up appearances, hence deeming you a reliable companion).
The corner of the young man's mouth rose. When the Queen declared you the diamond of the season, Satoru knew he had found his quarry.
When the ball came, Satoru acted similarly: observing from behind, staying in conversation with his friends and other noble men that did business with the Gojo family as he prowled the ballroom, waiting for the right moment to ask you for your hand. And then Naoya came in when you were finally alone, away from all the incompetent men that dared to think they had a chance to court you, and Satoru almost laughed snarkily at how easy it all was.
Approaching you, saving you from Naoya⸺it was all a perfect construction of his. Dancing, he noticed your steps were carried out with a practiced perfection and grace, and your responses to his questions displayed a respectable level of intellect. He could tell your responses were practiced and simple, your constitution and demeanor a result of much effort into presenting yourself as best as you could. But what does it matter, when you do it so perfectly?
Maybe it was a bit naive of him, but you seemed to glow when conversing with him. It amused him, as he kept watching your pretty eyes as you kept smiling while he kept throwing difficult questions at you. It was all expected, however. Satoru knew he was blessed with the brilliant blue Gojo eyes and eccentric fair, white hair; he was the most eligible bachelor for not only wealth and power but reproductive capabilities and opportunities as well. Which lady wouldn’t want to be mother to his cute and beautiful blue-eyed babies?
After witnessing such mediocre men who paled in comparison to Satoru, surely you must be smitten. Gojo could see right through you: you, the diamond, have been looking for a man as meritorious as you, and you had found it in Satoru.
So why were you acting this way?
When you wake up in the morning and get ready for suitors, it is as you expected; there are multiple carriages outside your doorstep, and there is a line from the drawing room, extending all the way down the stairs. When Choso stumbles into the drawing room, where you and your mother are enjoying tea, he is clearly unhappy at the selection of men waiting to be let in to call upon you.
“This is absurd!” Choso’s hands raked over his hair in an effort to process the scene he had just witnessed. “Why do I see Naoya waiting outside?”
Your nose crinkled in distaste. “Well, dear brother, I certainly cannot control which suitors call upon me. He must’ve enjoyed our conversation yesterday. The enjoyment, however, is one sided.”
Choso’s eyes widened comically. “You had a conversation with him yesterday?” He then turned to your mother accusingly, who was reading a Whistledown while sipping on her tea innocuously. “This would not have happened if I was there, Mother. This is your fault.”
Your mother continued drinking her tea nonchalantly, waiting for a few beats to grace him with a response. “I prefer this, my son, to no visitors out there because our dear Lord Itadori scared all the bachelors away with his pickiness.” Then, her eyes flashed. “And don’t give me that tone.”
You snickered behind your palm as Choso visibly deflated.
“Kuna! Get back here!”
Pitter patters of small paws started to get closer and closer, as heavy footsteps followed it. Yuji and the family corgi, Sukuna Jr., burst into the room. Eyeing the biscuit in your hand, Kuna made his way directly to you, panting at your feet. A pet given affectionately by your-not-so-affectionate older brother, Sukuna, when he left for his year long trip around Europe, Kuna was the cutest little puppy. You and Yuji loved to spoil him, clearly shown as Yuji patted him while breathing heavily. You cooed as Kuna licked your fingers while inhaling the biscuit you had presented him.
“Well,” your mother stood up, having finished her tea, and began ushering in the maids to clear the table. “It seems our morning will be quite busy. You’d best be prepared for a long day, my dear.”
Choso was still grumbling as he took a seat across from you, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the long line of suitors outside. “I’m keeping an eye on that Naoya fellow. If he so much as looks at you the wrong way…”
You raised an eyebrow at your brother’s protectiveness, feeling both amused and touched. “Choso, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself. Besides, with Kuna here, I doubt any of these gentlemen will get too close without proper approval.”
As if understanding the conversation, Sukuna Jr. barked enthusiastically, his tail wagging as he looked up at you with bright, expectant eyes. You smiled and scratched behind his ears, watching as his tiny body wriggled with joy.
Yuji, still catching his breath from the chase, flopped onto the chair beside you, shooting a grin at Choso. “Come on, big brother, give her a break. It’s not every day our sister gets declared the diamond of the season. Let her enjoy it.”
Choso crossed his arms, still unconvinced. “I’m just saying, if any of these men don’t meet my standards⸺”
“Your standards?” you interrupted with a teasing lilt. “Choso, I’d never find a husband if I had to meet your impossible standards. Besides, you should be more concerned about finding someone yourself.”
Choso’s cheeks tinted with a slight blush, but make no mistake; he was hot with anger, ready to make a snarky retort. Your mother, who had been overseeing the maids, turned her attention back to the conversation with a soft smile.
“Your sister is right, Choso. It’s her time to shine, and as her family, we should support her, not make things more difficult.” She gave him a pointed look before turning to you with a gentler expression, and he backed down as he always does for your mother. “Now, my dear, are you ready to begin receiving your guests?”
You took a deep breath, nodding as you steeled yourself for the hours of polite conversation and careful navigation of the social battlefield ahead. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good,” your mother said, her voice laced with both pride and encouragement. “Remember, you are the diamond of the season. There isn’t a man out there who wouldn’t be lucky to have you.”
You offered a weak smile. “Let’s get this over with.”
As you walked toward the sofa where you would be talking with suitors, Kuna trotted alongside you, his presence a comforting reminder.With Yuji and Choso trailing behind, and your mother leading the way to open the door, you braced yourself for the onslaught of admirers waiting beyond the door.
But as you straighten your posture, in anticipation to greet the first suitor, you couldn't help but glance down at Kuna, who stared up at you with wide, curious eyes. You chuckled softly.
“Well, Kuna,” you whispered, “let’s see who passes your test today.”
Gojo’s gaze wandered down to Sukuna Jr. in your lap as you stroked his fur, and he gave you a saccharine⸺yet strained⸺smile. “Must this dog bear witness to our conversation?
As if sensing Gojo’s unfriendliness, Kuna started growling, and you could feel the rumble deep in his stomach. You met Gojo’s sweet smile with one of your own. “Yes.”
Gojo blinked, and the smile on his face faltered. You noticed that this was one of the first time Gojo’s ever expressed an emotion outside of smugness, and you count this as your personal win.
“Well,” he hesitated, and then a smile was on his face as if that stumble didn’t happen. “You look wonderful this morning, Miss Itadori.”
Your eyes flashed at his audacity to talk behind your back and try to fool you with flattery. “On the contrary, I think I look rather simple.”
Gojo, none the wiser as to what you were referring to, waved his hands. “Nonsense.”
Before you could respond, Kuna let out a low, rumbling growl, his sharp eyes fixed on Gojo. The sound was subtle, but in the quiet of the morning, it was unmistakable. Gojo’s gaze flickered down to the small dog, and his smile tightened ever so slightly.
You gently scratched behind Kuna’s ears, calming him, though his gaze never left Gojo. “I apologize on behalf of my dear Kuna,” you said, your voice light but nonetheless pointed. “He tends to be wary of many, particularly those he believes to be with ulterior motives.”
Gojo nodded, unfazed, and looked down at the dog in question. Upon eye contact, all your efforts to calm Kuna went to naught as the dog stood up, tense and teeth almost bared fully, to stare back at Gojo defiantly. Gojo, to his credit, was starting to be a little wary and was giving the pup an impassive stare.
“You know, I have an affinity for dogs. There are many pups that I have spent my entire childhood with.” He offered a chuckle and moved his hand to pet Kuna. “Dogs do have a way of sensing things, don’t they?” That was clearly the wrong decision because the dog’s growl grew louder, and suddenly, he snapped at Gojo’s hand. Before Kuna could sink his teeth into Gojo’s hand, however, Gojo smoothly withdrew it out of his reach.
“Protective, isn’t he?” Gojo laughed, but his stare towards Kuna was veering more and more into a glare. He tried to disguise his irritation by suavely adding, “Admirable. I’m glad he has protected my lady so well.” Gojo then grabbed your hand to give you a small kiss on the back of it while keeping eye contact. You had to divert your eyes elsewhere to avoid coloring your cheeks; while you knew this was just another one of Gojo’s pretenses to charm you, you were still fazed by it.
You cleared your throat and tried to uphold the conversation. After all, it would be outright rude to keep throwing thinly veiled insults his way when there were others in your company; he also had the potential to spread further malicious rumors about you if you showed attitude. You mustered up a fake smile, and offered, “He was a gift to me and Yuji offered by my older brother, Sukuna, when he went traveling,” you offered.
“Is that the brother you hoped to follow to Europe?”
You blinked and faltered. You didn’t expect him to remember that tidbit from your conversation at the ball last night. While most of the preferences you had asserted were artificial⸺supplemented to you by your tutor, who had drilled what fake preferences of yours would woo men⸺you truly did gain enthusiasm for the languages because you hoped to prove your helpfulness to Sukuna in an effort to run away from your inevitable debut. At the time, you were rebelling against anything your mama said, avoiding anything associated with being paraded around like an animal, put on display for men. “Yes,” you said slowly, “Yes, it is.”
Gojo smiled, this time a little more genuine at the fact it was his first time receiving an authentic response from you this morning, rather than something covered with a fake smile. Just as he leaned in slightly, probably preparing to make another smooth remark, Kuna, who had been shifting in your lap, suddenly stilled, his face buried in your lap and tail facing Gojo. For a moment, you thought he might be settling down.
And then it happened.
The largest fart ripped through the room out of Kuna’s arse, which was pointed directly in Gojo’s face. While you were not a scholar studying physics, you were aware that the air dynamics did not do Gojo any favors in preventing the smell from hitting him direct-on. Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, and his suave expression faltered entirely as the smell quickly followed, filling the air around you both.
You could feel the heat rushing to your face in your effort not to laugh out loud. Trying to keep your composure, you gently patted Kuna’s belly, who was now face up, tongue lolling out in bliss. “Oh, dear,” you muttered, your voice strained with the effort to suppress a laugh.
Gojo, for once, was at a loss for words. His eyes were tearing up, probably at the smell; whenever you and Yuji spoiled Kuna with those biscuits, he dropped nasty-smelling dungs, and you knew Gojo wasn’t spared at all. The arrogant bachelor, who always seemed to have a witty response ready, was now at a loss of words as he weakly gazed upon the weak little poot! poot!s that escaped Kuna as you continued patting his stomach in an effort to relieve your pup’s digestive system.
At Gojo’s expression, you had to take quiet, deep breaths in an effort to rein in the cackles that were threatening to overcome you. You resorted to covering your mouth as you strained, “As you can see, my Kuna is quite expressive, and he seemed quite eager to show you that.”
He offered you a strained smile. “He does indeed generate quite a bit of wind.” At that, you could no longer hold back. Genuine laughter wracked through your figure, hurting your ribs as you tried to quell it with a hand to the mouth, but no avail. Your muffled laughter was still loud, and when the giggles subsided, you wiped your tears and threw an apologetic look at Gojo, preparing to express your regret.
But you stopped at the sheer wonder he contained in his face as his gaze fixated on your lips, which were drawn back in the ghost of the smile you had while laughing riotously. Without allowing you much time to dwell on it, he stood up and dipped his head in a little bow. “Well, I have been taking quite a bit of your time, Miss Itadori. I better let other suitors have their chance.” He kissed the back of your hand. “I hope to see you at the horse race tomorrow.”
“Likewise.” You couldn’t help but spy some red coloring Gojo’s alabaster cheeks as he made his way to the exit. As you greeted the next suitor, the imprint of a certain man’s lips continued to tingle on your hands.
“I told you he was a rake,” Nobara muttered as she scrubbed your arm with an intensity that matched her outrage. After hearing what Gojo had said about you, she was livid. Unfortunately, your skin was bearing the brunt of her frustration.
“Well,” you mused, trying to distract her, “what rumors have you heard that make you think that?”
“Momo told me a few months ago⸺” Nobara paused, her hands hovering over the various bottles on the counter. “Which scent would you prefer for your hair?”
“Sandalwood,” you replied.
Nobara nodded and poured some of the rich liquid into her hands before massaging it into your scalp. You closed your eyes, feeling the tension from the day's exhausting and dull conversations slowly melt away under her skillful fingers. “Momo mentioned that he’s often out late at night, which seems suspicious. But now that I think about it, Momo isn’t the most reliable source,” Nobara added, her tone shifting to one of skepticism.
You quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
“There’s talk that she attempted to lure another maid’s husband into an affair,” Nobara replied, her hands now working the shampoo through your hair with a practiced ease. “She even tried to gain access to his quarters.”
You gasped. “How scandalous!”
“I know,” Nobara said, her hands now massaging the back of your neck with a gentler touch. “So, who knows how much truth there is to her gossip. But still, Gojo’s behavior is less than honorable, don’t you think?”
You sighed, gazing up at the ceiling with a mix of frustration and resignation. “He was gossiping about me with other men, calling me all sorts of horrible things⸺‘simple,’ of all things. And yet, he has the audacity to want to call upon me?”
“You know,” Nobara mused as she continued her task, “He sounds the exact opposite of what some of your books would imply.”
You hummed in agreement, recalling the radical works you kept hidden beneath your bed. Your mother would be appalled if she ever discovered them, but you often sought solace in political writings that challenged the rigid expectations of society. “I know. And that is precisely why I have no intention of encouraging his attention this season—at least, not before I ensure his complete and utter humiliation.”
“But do take care. His connections to the Queen are quite strong.”
You drew back from Nobara's hands, much to her chagrin. She gave you a glare while you exclaimed, "What?"
“Surely you’re aware that the Gojo dukedom is among the closest to the royal family?”
You fervently hoped your mother hadn’t caught wind of Gojo's status. Yet, the way she had been observing you⸺subtly scrutinizing you in the drawing room while feigning interest in a suitor awaiting his turn⸺suggested otherwise. She had certainly noticed Gojo's growing interest, and the thought of her getting involved, fixating on a match with him, filled you with dread. Drawing your hands over your face, you moaned, the very notion of her scheming to pair you with Gojo weighing heavily on your mind.
“But that should hardly be a concern if you’ve begun to distance yourself from him, correct? You have been creating some distance, haven’t you?”
Your silence spoke volumes, and Nobara, ever quick to discern your hesitation, gasped in exasperation. “You cannot seriously be considering giving this gentleman any encouragement, can you?”
"No, no, it’s not that,” you replied, massaging your temples in frustration. “It’s just that my mother is probably ecstatic at the prospect of securing a match between me and Gojo.”
“But surely, if she knew the things he’s been saying behind your back, she would understand.”
You tried to open your mouth to respond, but it felt as if your throat had closed up. Would she really? A match with Gojo would mean elevated status for the Itadori family⸺a duchess for a daughter. What worth is there in being the diamond of the season if not to secure the most advantageous match? The very thought made your chest tighten with the suffocating realization that your mother might very well advocate for the union, despite Gojo’s duplicity.
“I⸺” you swallowed. “I’m not sure.” Before Nobara could interrupt, you stood up and reached for your robe.
Nobara's brow furrowed as she watched you stand up. "Where do you think you're going? You’re not done with your bath, and your hair is still full of suds!" She reached out to stop you, her hands hovering as though unsure whether to pull you back into the tub or grab the robe you were now clutching.
You forced a small, tired smile, grateful for the distraction. “I need just a moment. The water's gone cold, anyway.”
“Oh, nonsense! You’ll catch a chill if you get out now. Sit back down,” Nobara insisted, her protest tinged with genuine concern. She placed a firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you back toward the warm water.
With a reluctant sigh, you allowed yourself to be coaxed back into the tub. The momentary reprieve from the conversation was a relief, and you welcomed Nobara’s determined focus on completing your bath. She picked up a sponge, her earlier frustration melting into concentration as she scrubbed your back.
“Well, we can discuss that scheming rake later,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “For now, let’s get you properly cleaned up before your mother comes looking for you. She’d never forgive me if I let you appear anything less than perfect.”
You nodded with a lump in your throat, grateful for the change in topic, even if only temporary. The soothing rhythm of Nobara's hands working through your hair, the warmth of the bathwater, and the familiar, comforting routine helped ease the tightness in your chest. For now, the troubling thoughts of Gojo and your mother's ambitions could be set aside.
“Now, hold still,” Nobara said, her tone softening as she rinsed the last of the soap from your hair. “We’ll have you looking radiant again in no time.”
The conversation was left unfinished, hanging in the air like a question that neither of you was quite ready to answer. But for now, the silence was a welcome refuge.
"Do you have any notion of how impossible it is to charm a lady when there is a pup expelling such foul air right beneath your nose?" Satoru lamented, leaning back in his chair and raking a hand through his tousled hair. The trio gathered at the table presented a rather unusual sight: Satoru, visibly discomposed; Nanami, calmly sipping his drink as ever; and Suguru, nearly doubled over in laughter at his friend’s misfortune.
“Would you please⸺SMACK⸺cease your laughing?!” Satoru glared at Suguru, who seemed to be of no hope, now with tears in his eyes as he clutched his stomach and the back of his head, which Satoru had just hit.
“Truly, your vanity⸺haaah⸺your vanity was in need of humbling,” Suguru managed between breaths, still snickering behind his palms.
Satoru glowered, crossing his arms and staring daggers into his drink, as if his gaze alone could break the fine glass. “My pride had already suffered enough. She was positively frigid.”
Nanami hummed. “Perhaps she’s merely discerned your true nature.”
“It defies comprehension,” Gojo groaned, ignoring Kento’s statement. “What kind of lady disparages her own beauty as ‘simple’? I cannot fathom what has caused her such vexation. Only the night before, she was utterly taken with me!”
Suguru⸺who had now calmed down⸺was in the midst of wiping his tears when he suddenly stopped. “You don’t suppose it had anything to do with your careless words, do you?”
Kento eyed the pair in front of him with an accusatory side eye. “And what precisely did you say?”
“Satoru, in his usual fashion, could not contain his tongue. Out on the terrace, with the garden as witness, he spoke rather unkindly, referring to the diamond as ‘simple and dull.’”
“Nonsense,” Satoru waved his hands, dismissing the idea. “The lady would never wander the gardens at such an hour in the night unchaperoned.”
“I suggest you reconsider.” Kento gave him a stern look and continued, “I happened upon her last night, emerging from the gardens, and she appeared rather disheveled.”
This revelation gave Satoru pause, but if there was one thing certain about Satoru Gojo, it was this: his arrogance was such that he could scarcely fathom anyone, least of all a lady, finding his charm anything but irresistible⸺even if that very lady had overheard him uttering defamatory remarks about her. And this lady was one he could not let go of, unless he wanted to wave good-bye to his future.
“I am confident all will be well,” Gojo exhaled, his lips curving into a Cheshire smile. “Even if she did overhear, surely a few well-chosen sweet words will surely set matters right.”
(He was most grievously mistaken.)
“How many of those biscuits do you suppose we could finish?” Yuji was eyeing the biscuits from his seat next to you in the pavilion where you and your family were sitting. Out promenading with the other families of the ton, it was a scenic and beautiful day for you to mingle with even more suitors. The joy!
“Certainly less than me,” you remarked, sipping on your tea smugly. By the irritated pout on his face, you knew you were successful at getting a rise out of your younger brother. Knowing your mother wasn’t in sight, you quickly darted for the jam-filled biscuits, and your brother quickly followed in tow; soon, you were both stuffing your faces silly with the sugary treats.
“You two are incorrigible,” Choso scrunched his nose from where he sat across from you, arms crossed. “There’s no need to inhale those biscuits. What if someone sees?”
Yuji stuck out his tongue⸺now adorned with biscuit crumbs⸺and continued gorging, while you snickered at your younger brother’s pettiness.
“Miss Itadori.”
You began coughing wildly, caught off guard, and hastily straightened your posture to greet your guest. You turned to see Lord Ino, who offered you a slight nod before acknowledging your brothers. “Lord Itadori. Mister Itadori.”
“Lord Ino, nice to meet you on such a fine day.” You try to put a smile on your face as best as you can, even though you were caught off guard. “How do you find today’s weather?”
Takuma grabs the back of your hand to kiss it. “I find it wonderful for the prospect of promenading. Do you care to do so with me?”
“Of course,” You stand up and link your elbows with Takuma’s.
“We’ll be thirty paces behind you, sister.” You both turned to look at Choso, who was giving Lord Ino his inevitable protective glare. Given Ino’s acceptable station, Choso hadn’t immediately protested, unlike the many suitors he had chased out of your manor the day before. He grabbed Yuji by the elbow, who, with cheeks comically inflated like a chipmunk hoarding acorns, was promptly dragged away. “Yuji, get up.” The last you saw of your brothers was Yuji’s futile protests, his mouth too full to be coherent⸺inevitably sending some crumbs flying onto Choso⸺and Choso swatting him for it.
As you began your walk with Lord Ino, the conversation naturally turned to the upcoming horse race. “Are you looking forward to the race this afternoon?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
“I am,” the lord replied. “And you?”
“Very much so,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice. “I have a feeling that the less popular horse⸺Blaze, was it?⸺might surprise everyone. The conditions seem just right for an underdog victory; the track is soft and warm, which would favor Blaze’s build.”
Lord Ino glanced at you with a polite but unconvinced smile. “But Thunder has higher odds and more bets. It’s as simple as that.”
You couldn’t help but bristle at the word “simple,” a word that had recently come to grate on your nerves. You pressed on, though, determined to keep the conversation pleasant. “I suppose there’s some truth to that, but sometimes there’s more to a race than just the odds and popularity.”
Ino chuckled softly. “Well, a good mentor and friend of mine⸺Duke Nanami⸺agrees with the odds, and His Grace is someone I deeply respect. I tend to follow his lead⸺the duke has a way of teaching lessons without hindering one’s growth.”
Before you could respond, the sound of a trumpet blared in the distance, signaling the start of the race. You looked at him, giving him a courteous nod, gesturing in the general direction Choso and Yuji were supposed to be in. “It seems the race is about to begin. I must rejoin my family.”
You curtsied as he bowed, and you watched as he walked away, leaving you momentarily alone. You took a deep breath, trying to dispel the lingering irritation from the conversation. Just as you began looking for your family, you felt a presence approaching.
You turned to find Lady Mei Mei and her entourage closing in. Their expressions were a study in artful contempt, laced with curiosity and barely concealed amusement. The atmosphere between you was thick with unspoken competition, each woman silently gauging the other’s position on the social ladder.
“Miss Itadori, what a nice surprise!” Lady Mei Mei remarked, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “It appears you are alone and unchaperoned in a garden yet again! At least, according to what the rumors say. Was it part of yet another one of your charming ploys to get what you want?"
You met her gaze with cool composure, not giving her the satisfaction of a visible reaction. "I have no clue what you're talking about."
Lady Mei Mei tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if appraising a particularly interesting specimen. "Really?" she mused, drawing out the word as though savoring it. "It’s just that Lord Gojo hasn’t spoken with you all day. Even if Whistledown commended you in the last issue, I wouldn’t expect his interest to linger." The two ladies flanking her⸺unremarkable save for their sycophantic attachment to Mei Mei⸺giggled behind their fans, as though she had delivered a crushing blow.
You allowed yourself a small, almost imperceptible smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. "So I’m assuming he called upon you?" you questioned sweetly, your voice laced with feigned politeness.
For a fleeting moment, Lady Mei Mei’s carefully curated composure slipped, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing her face before she regained control. She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper meant for you alone. “None of the suitors will be interested in you any longer. The Queen may have mistakenly proclaimed you the diamond, but a pretty face, empty smiles, and hollow words can only last so long.”
“Whatever would be most convenient for you to believe.” Her words were empty and her threats dull, but you couldn’t help but let it compound on the irritation you had experienced today. But you knew better than to let your tongue loose; you were quite impulsive when you had started, and you didn’t want to start any scandal anytime soon. Instead, you held your ground, trying to maintain your composure (outwardly, at least) as Lady Mei Mei and her entourage turned to leave, their laughter echoing in your ears.
You tried to implement a few things your tutor had ingrained in you: taking deep breaths and setting your posture correctly. However, as you stood there, collecting yourself, the last thing you needed seemed to manifest before you: Satoru Gojo.
His tall figure approached you with that familiar, self-assured stride, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Ah, Miss Itadori," he greeted, a sly smile playing on his lips. You were already irritated, and it took all your will-power to stifle a groan.
"I couldn’t help but notice you were conversing with Lord Ino," he remarked casually.
Give him a smile. "Indeed, we were enjoying a promenade. It is, after all, what young ladies and their suitors are expected to do."
“Quite the choice in company!”
KEEP up the smile. "He is a nobleman, and I am of noble descent. I fail to see your point, Mr. Gojo."
Gojo’s smile was quick and cutting. “Oh, I’ve no particular quarrel with Lord Ino. It’s simply that he’s hardly the sort I’d expect to see on your arm. After all, he’s practically Nanami’s lapdog.”
You felt the familiar irritation rising within you⸺and you were fighting for your life trying to keep a smile on your face⸺but you kept your tone measured. "And what, pray tell, are you implying by that, Mr. Gojo?"
"It’s quite simple, really⸺"
But your patience, already worn thin, snapped at that word.
"My good sir, do you not think it rather dishonorable to speak ill of others behind their backs?" Gojo began to respond, but you cut him off. "It’s curious how quickly opinions can change, is it not? Just the other evening, you seemed to hold me in rather low regard. Tell me, do you often dismiss people as ‘simple’ when they fail to meet any of the lofty expectations you have set? Or do you perhaps truly believe yourself to be at a station higher than others?"
Gojo stiffened, the smile slipping from his face as your words hit their mark. Before he could respond, Choso appeared at your side, his protective presence a welcome relief.
“Is there any problem, sister?” Choso asked, his tone polite yet firm as he glanced at Satoru, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Gojo’s gaze flicked to Choso, his irritation clear as he opened his mouth to make a cutting remark, and you couldn’t thank the gods enough for Choso’s mother hen tendencies. But the words faltered when he recognized who had interrupted. For a brief moment, surprise flashed in his eyes before he masked it with a tight-lipped smile.
You seized the moment, turning to Satoru with a sweet smile. “I think our time is up, Mister Gojo,” you said, your voice laced with venom.
Satoru hesitated for just a fraction of a second before nodding curtly, his expression unreadable. “Of course. Until next time, Miss Itadori.”
With that, he stepped back, allowing you and Choso to walk away toward where people were gathering for the race. As you moved through the crowd, you could feel Satoru’s gaze lingering on you, but you didn’t look back.
“That horse appears rather stout, does it not?” Yuji squinted against the blazing sun as he observed the horses from his seat beside you in the grandstand. “Why has it garnered so many bets?”
Choso, seated protectively on your other side, kept a steady arm linked with yours. His presence was reassuring, though your irritation was directed at the figure seated just below you. Satoru Gojo, to your endless chagrin, was sitting with Lady Mei Mei, who had all but forced her way into the seat beside him. Though he tried to appear indifferent, his signature flirty remarks flowing with ease, you noticed the subtle signs of irritation crossing his face. Whether it stemmed from Lady Mei Mei's advances or from your earlier exchange, you couldn't be sure. You refused to meet his gaze, though you could feel his eyes on you intermittently as the crowd waited for the race to begin.
“Men can be quite foolish at times,” you remarked hotly, your voice carrying just enough to be overheard. “Some people value the superficial and materialistic over true substance, much like they do with horses. Blaze, for instance, has the qualities that truly matter.”
You could almost feel Gojo’s gaze intensify, and despite yourself, you glanced in his direction. Lady Mei Mei, ever the actress, feigned a stumble, exclaiming with a coy smile, “These crowds are rather rough on a lady!”
You scoffed inwardly at her transparent attempt to press her bosom against Gojo’s arm.
“Oh my,” Gojo drawled, his voice oozing concern. “We can’t have that, can we?” Ever the gallant gentleman, he interlaced his arm with hers. “Here, for extra protection. I wouldn’t want a pretty lady shedding tears beside me.”
Mei Mei’s smirk was as satisfied as a serpent after a meal, and she batted her eyelashes coquettishly. “If I were to cry, would you console me?”
“Of course,” Gojo replied smoothly. “Though I might find myself crying should my horse lose. The bets I’ve placed are rather substantial.”
A flirtatious giggle escaped Mei Mei’s lips. “Then I shall cheer with all my might, so you needn’t suffer any losses, my lord.”
You were perilously close to tearing your hair out.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, my lady,” Gojo said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with exaggerated flourish. “But rest assured, I am quite confident of a victory today. Thunder is swift and cunning, far superior to that... other horse. It’s simple, really—Thunder will win.”
Your composure cracked. “Yuji,” you called, your voice sharp. Your brother, who had been lost in thought, snapped to attention. “Despite the other horse’s popularity, Blaze possesses the one quality universal to all champions: speed and diligence. The track conditions are in its favor.”
Yuji, caught off guard, blinked in confusion. “Yes, of course, sister,” he mumbled, clearly unsure of why you were addressing him.
“And anyone who thinks otherwise,” you continued, raising your voice slightly, “is bound to lose their money. Sorely and simply.”
Gojo matched your tone, his voice ringing out. “But of course, it’s all in good fun. There’s no need for hostility over a sport, is there? Both horses are fine contenders, though I remain convinced Thunder shall emerge victorious.”
Mei Mei tittered, parroting his sentiments, but you could hardly see straight for the anger coursing through you. Unable to hold back, you retorted, “However, it is, after all, still a race. And Blaze will win.”
By now, your exchange had drawn the attention of those around you, including your brothers. Choso and Yuji exchanged puzzled glances before Yuji asked weakly, “Are you still talking to us, sister?” Meanwhile, Choso’s protective instincts flared, his gaze darting suspiciously between you and Gojo.
Before you could reply, the horses lined up at the starting gate, and the crowd collectively rose to their feet, including Gojo. “Steady now, Thunder!” he called out, his voice brimming with confidence.
Not to be outdone, you shouted, “Come on, Blaze!”
The bell rang, and the horses surged forward, the crowd erupting in cheers. Blaze and Thunder quickly pulled ahead, the two horses locked in a fierce battle for the lead. Thunder was currently ahead, its sleek form cutting through the track with precision.
“Steady, Thunder! Keep the lead!” Gojo’s voice was full of excitement, urging his horse onward.
Your heart raced with frustration as Blaze lagged slightly behind. “You can do this, Blaze!” you urged, your voice rising above the din. Without thinking, you began whistling sharply, drawing alarmed looks from your brothers. The stares from the crowd meant nothing to you as you focused solely on the race.
Blaze, as if responding to your encouragement, began to accelerate, its powerful strides eating up the ground between it and Thunder. You noticed Thunder’s pace faltering, fatigue setting in, while Blaze surged ahead, pulling into the lead with a quarter of the race remaining.
Now it was Gojo’s turn to whistle, his voice tinged with desperation. “Straight to the finish line, Thunder! Don’t let up!”
But Blaze only widened the gap, its momentum carrying it farther ahead. You couldn’t contain your laughter, a joyous sound that bubbled up from within as Blaze crossed the finish line first, with Thunder trailing behind.
“Goddamn it,” Gojo cursed under his breath, his frustration palpable. You clapped your hands in delight, your laughter ringing out.
With deliberate grace, you placed your hands on your hips and turned to Gojo, flashing him a triumphant smile. “I’m so glad the ‘simple’ horse won,” you said, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “It seems I’ve finally bested a duke.”
Gojo’s blue eyes bore into you, their intensity searing, but you met his glare with a boisterous laugh, savoring the victory as the crowd’s cheers and claps echoed around you. Until it was only the two of you, staring each other down.
Gojo ⸺ 0, you ⸺ 1.
Now, Duchess Gojo had always had a penchant for gossip, no one escaping her eye and observation. Of course, it was now the Whistledown era, for the unknown author could observe far more than the high-profile duchess, who was the receiver of much praise and attention due to her son’s eligibility. But this eligibility had only been achieved because of her ability to direct the tide based on her reconnaissance, and in all her years, no could match her sass and direction. Except one.
"You know, Lady Itadori," the Duchess remarked, her tone laced with feigned pensiveness, "the Gojo manor in the countryside has been dreadfully quiet, and, if I may say, it has been quite some time since we last enjoyed a proper tête-à-tête.”
The two ladies stood together near the stands, choosing a more secluded spot from which to observe the horse race. Lady Itadori, her closest confidante, met the Duchess’s gaze with a gleam in her eye. "Indeed, I must agree."
For a moment, the two women stood in silence, their eyes surveying the scene before them. From the ladies flirting shamelessly to the gentlemen scrambling for the favor of the season’s debutantes, they were like spectators at a grand circus. Yet, their attention was drawn to a particular act.
Raising her fan to her lips, Lady Itadori whispered conspiratorially to the Duchess, "I might add, my diamond has been spending a considerable amount of time in your son’s company."
The Duchess met her friend’s eyes and laughed lightly. "How many days do you wager it will take in the manor?"
Lady Itadori, now fully smirking, gave a delicate shrug. "It took you and the Duke but four days."
prev. the debutante | next. the manor
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n: reader is hearing boss music rn
forced proximity whatttt
gojo when kuna ripped one in his face
comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3
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cultivating your hobbies to become that girl
as summer starts to end, i find my days a little emptier and im full of anticipation for the coming academic year. but the last thing i want to do is waste the last part of summer so now is the perfect time to cultivate or begin a new hobby, focusing on four areas to level up your body, skills, mind and passions! enjoy angels and i hope this gives you some inspiration.
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body
having a hobby that helps you reach your dream body, maintain a healthy lifestyle or just help with your mental health (as moving your body always does!) is such a good idea. the past few months my workout schedule has decreased due to the amount of schoolwork i have had and exam season so now is the perfect time for me to get more disciplined and build up a good workout scheme. my hobbies based around my body are pilates or yoga, both of which help me with my fitness goals. here are some more ideas/inspiration for some hobbies you could start:
‘hot girl walks’ - set a goal for your daily steps and go on walks everyday to help you achieve that.
running daily.
swimming daily.
tennis or badminton daily.
joining a sports club such as football or gymnastics.
dance - could be by yourself at home following dance workouts!
strength training.
starting a fitness challenge - such as a month long youtube challenge.
start making your own fitness content! film videos or write tutorials.
bike riding daily.
skills
finding a hobby that helps you develop/cultivate your skills is so important. mine personally is cooking/baking as it helps me focus on giving my body what it needs, becoming more independent and providing for those i love. here are some ideas/inspiration:
painting.
making your own clothes - sewing, knitting or crocheting.
gardening.
scrapbooking.
photography.
drawing.
writing - poetry, novels, articles or anything similar.
acting - helps with public speaking, confidence and making friends.
jewellery making.
chess or a similar intense mental game - cultivates your thinking skills and mind.
mind
finding a hobby that helps you mentally, especially if relevant to schoolwork or career plans is so helpful. mine is reading/engaging with literature as not only does it align with my academic work but also helps me with how i think, view the world and allows me to be more empathetic.
mindfulness/meditation.
learning to play an instrument.
writing/researching around your subjects.
budgeting - good way of keeping track of and understanding money even if you aren’t planning on doing anything economics based!
journalling or keeping a diary.
joining/starting a book club.
starting a studyblr, study youtube channel etc.
learning a new language.
tutoring someone - great way of helping yourself learn as well!
joining a debate team.
passions
finding a hobby around one of your passions is such a fun and unique way of engaging in things you enjoy. mine personally is visiting museums/areas of historical importance as i am so passionate about history.
visiting art galleries.
attending the theatre/cinema.
going to live music events.
visiting libraries/book shops - growing your wish list, finding new book inspo etc!
going to cooking classes, restaurants or cafes.
travelling to new areas (could be local or international) - perhaps to develop language skills, find places to hike etc.
attending lectures on subjects youre interested in.
watching documentaries or video essays.
starting a new course - i do several history courses, my most recent was on European empires!
making a blog, channel, instagram etc for a new hobby or interest.
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ─────── thank you for reading angels! hopefully this will help us all on our hobby journeys and have given you ideas of hobbies to try or develop for the end of summer or just in general! love, m.
#becoming that girl#it girl energy#clean girl#girlblogging#girlhood#glow up#it girl#just girly things#pink pilates princess#pink aesthetic#pink blog#tumblr girls#cute#this is a girlblog#that girl
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cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader
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>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.
cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc
chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother
“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”
Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.
“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”
“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.
“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”
“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.
Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.
“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”
There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.
You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.
“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.
With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.
But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.
Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.
You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.
“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.
“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.
“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.
Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.
He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.
“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”
His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Cregan.”
You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.
Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.
But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.
“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.
A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.
No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.
Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.
“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.
You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.
“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.
But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.
Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.
Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.
You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.
“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”
“It will set eyes upon us.”
“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”
The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.
“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.
You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.
“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”
“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.
You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.
“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”
“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.
The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.
“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”
“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.
“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”
You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?
You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?
“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”
“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.
With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.
“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.
“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”
A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.
He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.
“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”
Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?
You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.
“Is this proper?”
“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”
A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.
“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”
“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.
But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.
“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.
His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.
You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.
“Cregan.” is all you manage.
“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”
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Saving Jacaerys during the battle of the gullet? I am not ready for this moment
Who else is not ready for this? I have not read the book, but I know it will be a sad day
Warnings: mention of injuries, death of a dragon,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
Arrows were being shot by the fleet of the Triarchy and Jacaerys was making a big mistake making Vermax fly too low, but you were too high in the sky for him to hear your warning.
Time seemed to slow as the inevitable happened: a crossbow bolt struck Vermax in the eye. The dragon let out a pained roar, spiraling uncontrollably before crashing into the sea below. The sight tore at your heart, but there was no time for hesitation.
Wasting no time, you commanded your dragon to go down, diving swiftly and weaving through the storm of arrows with remarkable agility. The salty sea air stung your face as you descended, your mind racing with fear and determination.
The chances that Jacaerys survived such a fall was slim, but you had to know for sure. You had to see for yourself.
As you neared the water, you could see the wreckage of Vermax in the churning waves. His green scales and the red of his wings. A tear fell from your eye.
Please be alive. Please be alive.
Tearing your gaze from Vermax's lifeless form, you scanned the chaotic waters and the fires spreading across the wreckage. Suddenly, a splash of movement caught your eye. Jacaerys had managed to leap free and was now clinging desperately to a piece of wood from a shattered ship. Relief surged through you, mentally thanking the gods.
You turned in his direction, but before you could get to him, an arrow sliced through the air, striking Jacaerys in the shoulder. He cried out in pain, his grip on the makeshift raft faltering as the arrow pierced his flesh.
‘’Dracarys!’’ you commanded, fury fueling your voice.
Your dragon responded instantly, unleashing a torrent of fire upon the ship from which the arrow had been fired. The flames consumed the attackers, their screams lost in the roar of the blaze. Satisfaction filled your blood. Hurt the ones you love, and taste the revenge of the dragon.
You called Jacaerys’ name and he looked up, his face pale with pain and exhaustion. He had a cut on his face and his shoulder was bleeding from the arrow, which was still in his shoulder.
For a moment, relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as a wave crashed over him. He tried to hoist himself back onto the piece of debris but winced as a jolt of pain flared up his arm. His fingers slipped, wet from saltwater, and he fell back into the cold water, gasping for breath as he resurfaced.
Carefully, your dragon hovered just above the surface, and you reached out a hand, tightly holding the handle of your saddle with your other so you wouldn’t fall in the waters too. ‘’Take my hand!’’
With a grimace, Jacaerys stretched out his good arm, and you pulled him up with all your strength, straining against the weight of his soaked clothes and his own weakened state. He settled in the saddle behind you, safely. You felt him shivering behind you, the cold of the water and the blood loss clearly taking its toll.
You needed to get back to Dragonstone quickly before cold would take him. You ascended into the air, wings beating heavily against the wind as you fled the scene, escaping the deadly range of the Triarchy's arrows.
‘’You...you came for me,’’ Jacaerys said, his voice weak from the ordeal.
‘’Of course I came for you,’’ you retorted, your voice a mix of concern and annoyance. What kind of wife would you be if you didn’t come to your husband’s rescue?
Once you landed on Dragonstone, you called out for a maester. Jacaerys’ clothes had dried a little on the journey back, but he was still cold…and bleeding. You asked the servants to fetch him dry clothes and followed Maester Gerardys, who took care of Jacaerys’ wounds. He carefully removed the arrow out and stitched the wound, stopping the bleeding. By the look of pain on Jacaerys’ face, it must not have been pleasant.
The fire in the hearth crackled, slowly warming up the prince. His wet clothes were discarded on the floor and replaced by dry ones before settling into the chair by the fire, his silence deep and heavy, thinking back to everything that just happened.
You gently draped a blanket over his shoulders, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth. ‘’What were you thinking, flying so low?’’
Jacaerys looked down. His lack of battle training and knowledge was what got him into this situation. What caused Vermax's death. A tear rolled down his cheek but he wiped it away.
You sat on the second chair, still in your riding gear. ‘’You need to be more careful, Jace,’’ you scolded gently, concern lacing your words. ‘’You're not some invincible warrior. You're the Prince of Dragonstone, your mother’s heir. Your life is too important to risk like that.’’
Your words came from a good place, but Jacaerys wanted to scream. He was tired of hearing people saying his life was important. He wanted to be on the battlefield and come up with strategies, he wanted to do something to be part of this war.
But hearing the discourse from you felt different. To you, his life was more important than any of his titles.
Jacaerys sighed. ‘’I'm sorry,’’ he said, his voice tinged with pain and regret. ‘’I was just...I guess I was trying to prove myself. I don't want to be known as the prince who sat on Dragonstone and let others die fighting for his mother's throne.’’
You understood where he was coming from, but proving himself to others was not worth jeopardizing his life.
‘’You don't need to prove yourself by being reckless and throw your life away. The Queen would not bear losing another child. I would not bear losing you.’’
—
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Do you think we'll be in love?
Is there a new love coming in?
☆ How to chose the perfect pile for you?
Take a deep breathe, clear your mind. Don't think of anything or anyone, ONLY focus on your body sensations (your breathe). Ask the question in your head (what's next in my love life?) And open your eyes. Shall the picture that you are drawn to be your pile. Read the energy check and see if it resonated or not. If not chose another pile and if yes enjoy your reading🔮🕯.
☆ Now, who does this reading suite?
- Singles only.
- Don't read if you are currently seeing someone. Unless you are single and broke up with your ex too long ago.
- Do not and I will say it again DO NOT THINK of your CRUSH while reading it. This is not for CRUSHES. We are going to see who the universe is going to bring your way.
☆ Note:
- Thank your guys for 500 followers. I'm so grateful and happy that we are growing together in this blog🙏🏼❤.
Pile 1 - Ghost under a tree
Your current energy:
Hello pile 1. How are your guys, I hope you are doing well. Anyways, first thing I'm picking up on is that this pile feels a little discouraged by their love life. I feel like whenever you feel a little hopeful something bad happens (rejection, workload, or another bad incidents) and turn your views on finding your person or love or soulmate. I see that this pile want terribly to find their soulmate. Like you are putting on too much hope and pessimism towards that at the same time. I see also that a part of you still believe that maybe IF you have DONE a,b,c etc, you could've now been with your partner in a loving connection. But I see that another part of you is denying that it will happen. I see that there was a connection in your life were your felt a strong pull toward but because of your discouraged attitude you turned your back on it or they might have rejected you. But I see that the wheel of fortune is spinning your direction and it is going to bring you the person that you will find the emotional fulfillment with. Another energy I'm picking up on are my happily in a long term relationship. Haven't I told you guys that this is not your reading? Why don't you listen? Hmm🤨. Anyways feel free to enjoy I was just kidding lol. I see that for my single people your knight in a shining armor is going to be in your life but you have to be patient. I see that you will be so emotionally fulfilled by them. Another thing I'm picking up on is that you may have been in a twin flame connection and things at first was soo cool and wonderful and then something happened you may stopped talking to them or you are in separation and I see that you are discouraged about that. I see that you may be waiting for them but even if you chose to move on from that connection you are going to find fulfillment with your soulmate. So, in both cases the universe want you to win pile1. Love is on the horizon.
Confirmation that this is your pile:
You have sun, mercury, jupiter dominant in your chart. You have the lover archetype or the maiden archetype. You have been on a twin flame journey and you are currently in separation right now. You are a leo, sagittarius, gemini, pisces or cancer. Or you have your sun in the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 9th, 12th house in your chart.
Is there a new love coming in and who are they?
Short answer: yes. There's a love coming in for you pile 1. And for others in this pile it could be someone from the past. I see that this person was a friend or fwb or a childhood friend. I see that this person was completely defenseless in front of your charm. I see that they like you so much pile 1 and they could do anything for you. They could be older than you and they are very outgoing and extroverted. I see that they are a party person. They like to party a lot and they are very charismatic and friendly. Also they are very protective and gentle. Also they are very structured and organized. Maybe at first you won't think that commitment can come from this person, you may think that they are extremely carefree and want to just f*ck around but unlikely, they can be very traditional when it comes to marriage and dating. They may be very old fashioned when it comes to dating people. Also they can be (regardless of their gender) the one who is the masculine or this person is very masculine or they have a strong masculine energy. They LOVE to provide and spoil their loved ones. I see that this person is a complete mix between practicality and firness. I see that they can be childish at times and other times they just flip character and become very authoritative and demanding. They do really value their independence, they hate neediness or clingy partners so be careful if you don't want them to get bored with you. This person is an energy ball, I'm hearing fire ball lol. They are very energetic, extroverted, friendly and they have inner power to them. I see that this person is quite a people pleaser and they can get stuck in helping others and neglecting their own needs. They can be a little bit naive sometimes, the major problem here is that they are very kind that sometimes people use them. Another thing coming through is that they are optimistic too, they have a big hope for the future and their moto is " a bad day doesn't mean a bad life". This person can have a lot pf female friends, or just knows/ befriends a lot of people no matter what is their gender. Currently, I see that this person is enjoying their life and how far they have come.
What are they going to think of you?
Right of the bat, I think that this person will see that you are hiding how much you are struggling with life. You may not tell them that you have been through a lot of financial problems or just struggling in life in general. I see that they are going to see that your aura is very sweet and calming. I see also that you might be their type. Like their wish fulfillment. They are going to think that you are the most sweet, beautiful Goddess walking on this earth. Also, because of how much they are going to admire your beauty they will be afraid that you might reject or break their heart. I see that they may be a little insecure of themselves pr you just make them insecure. I see that how they feel and what they think is completely mixed. They might think that you are too beautiful that you are going to hurt them but at the same time your energy is just too calming, too peaceful. You put them at ease which is going to make them confused. Like they want to enjoy this but at the same time they will be afraid that you are just toying with their heart. Also, they might feel connected to you emotionally. Like they might not tell anyone how they feel but when they are with you, they won't shut up. They will also idealize you too. There's this idealization happening in this relationship. All of this is because they think you are too good to be true. Like you are their dream person. I am not kidding at all. No matter who you are, or how you look or whether you think you are beautiful/handsome or not they are going to think and see that you are their wish come true. Also I see that they may put you on the wife category. If you are a female; they might look at you as wife material or someone who is suitable for marriage.
Placements for them and other stuff:
Aries, Leo, Taurus, Cancer, Aquarius, Uranus, Sun, Venus, as dominant planets in their chart. Also when I was typing I typed letter A, J, H, I, they may have those letters in their name.
Pile 2 - Hunted house under moon
Your current energy:
Okay, okay pile 2. How are you first? I hope you are doing well. I see that you may be stuck on someone. Perhaps, a failed talking stage or just someone you had a crush on but things didn't really progressed at all. You may be getting hot over them? Or from them? I see desire so maybe this person is someone who turn you on? Idk. When I wad typing the last sentence I kept writing hot, hot, hot and Idk why. Anyway, I see that there's a lot of happiness here. You may be hopeful that this connection will lead somewhere. Despite hoping things to move forward from the person you are stuck on you are not doing anything for things to progress. I see that you may want to give them another chance but you are waiting for a miracle or divine intervention in this case. I see that this person you are currently stuck on is someone who is very feminine. If you are masculine or define as masculine you may be attracted to their beauty or femininity. I see that you want to give things another shot and you want to keep them in your life even if they are not going to offer something stable. I see that you want to give them a solid start so you can at least patch things up with them. There's still alot for you to give to this person. But just in case, I will pull cards to clarify how this person feels towards you. Okay, I guess your person know intuitively that there's something big that is about to happen between you two but the thing is they are not as attached to the situation as you. I see that they broke free from the situation, they remember you and they respect you BUT they are not attached to you as much. I think this person is kind of spiritual so they may know what you are about to do. But anyway. I think the situation that happened between you two is that one of you offered something emotional and the other is either got scared and run away or wanted nothing from you but friendship. So, one of you (who made the offer or confessed) felt disappointed by that and they chose to work on themselves.
Confirmation that this is your pile:
Venus, Sun, jupiter, Saturn as dominant planets in your chart. And I see the zodiac sign libra, taurus, pisces, virgo, leo. I also typed J so it might be a letter in your name.
Is there a new love coming in? And who are they?
Yes, there's a new love for you pile 2 but.... well... it may be with that one crush or failed talking stage. I see that you are hyper focused on them and also you are very happy and hopeful that things may progress. You are too caught up in the fantasy. I feel like this reading is very specific like I'm reading for someone on one-to-one reading. But anyways, this person is very chill, relaxed, and the way they talk could be slow or their voice is low in general or their voice have this sadness to it? Like the way they talk feels like they just finished crying. I see that they can suppress the things they want to say out of fear that they might not be understood. I see that they often feel or scared that someone is going to misunderstand them. But they are very sweet and emotional. I see that if they are a female; they are the typical sweet, caring, gentle figure. And if they are a male; they are emotionally mature and they are in tune with their intuition and their feelings. This person is intuitive too, I'm sensing INFJ, ENFJ, ENFP or INFP from them. This person is very powerful at manifesting, they might be manifesting you and if not then they are very good at manifesting things into their life. I see that this person is very romantic, very sensitive and they are like a knight in shining armor. They are so how can I say it? Dreamy? Or imaginative? They could be idealistic yeah. I see also that you may be isolated from interactions with them but the interactions between you two are just too sweet and happy that you cannot get out of your head. I see that you may be on your healing journey, that's why you got isolated. But this isolation with healing for too long made you stuck pile 2. I see that you might be stuck in life and you can't quite change your circumstances. It can be frustrating I know but you'll get out of it. I pulled more cards so you can get more details about this person. This person is (again tarot is putting too much attention on their nurturing qualities) very nurturing and kind. They like to help others. Sometimes is it not real how empathetic they are. They are not assertive at all they go with the flow and they can be a little bit rigid with their opinions. This person have healed a lot of traumas. They might have gone to therapy or healed on their own. Another thing I'm picking up on is how slow they are. They might walk slowly, talk slowly or just their reactions to things is slow. But I see practically too. So, they might think practically a lot. And they are a good balance between emotions and practicality or reason.
What they are going to think of you?
Initially, this person will think that you are very confident, sexy and successful. And if not they will think that you are beautiful and confident with high self esteem and also they will think that you assertive too. I see that you may be someone who call themselves high achiever and so on. But... well because they are intuitive they will see past that feçad. They will see that you are obsessed with them. I keep hearing "obsessed by Mariah Carrie" lol. And if you are not obsessed then you might be too attached or clingy to/towards them. This person because they are intuitive and empathetic they will see your trauma, they will see how hurt you are. But don't worry they won't hurt or use that against you whatsoever. I see that they will see you as an energy ball. Someone who walk fast, move fast and your reactions are faster than they are. They are also going to see that behind your mask is a wounded inner child and in their presence you'll act like a child because you'll be too comfortable that your inner child will be out. They will give you the space you need to let your creative side out and they are going to heal you pile 2.
Placements for them:
Aries, Capricorn, Gemini, Cancer, Pisces, Aquarius, mars, moon, mercury, Saturn, neptune as dominant planets. Letters: J, B, S, N, Z.
Pile 3 - Scary tree
Your current energy:
Hello pile 3 how are you? I hope you are doing well (This energy check in have two energies if you are single keep reading). Starting off I see that you may already be in a relationship and you want to know if this person is your future spouse or your forever person. I'm not sensing that this person is a stranger, no. This person and you may have been dating briefly or you may have been in a relationship with them for months? Nothing new but I feel like this person is very safe for your inner child. I see that you may have been very abused or disappointed in your love life and this person came and everything changed to the point of you feeling healed and fulfilled by them. I see that they constantly reassure you and making sure that you are okay and fine. This person may use their phone a lot to call you or messaging you to check up on you. I see that you feel very happy with them. And if you are single I see that you are in a place of healing your inner child. I see a lot of healing mentally and emotionally. Also, I see that you are collecting the courage to follow your passion. Love might not be a thing for you to focus on right now. I'm not saying you don't want it, you are just prioritizing your healing and mental health at the moment. I see a fast swift movement, you may have considered moving from your state or country (depending on where you live). I see that there may be a project you went through but all the team somehow ended up dealing with the government (this is not for everyone). You may be a law student who is doing a project related to this or you may have been doing something as a project and you are waiting the government to confirm it for you.
Confirmation that this is your pile:
You may be someone who write and delete the text few times before sending it or this is a habit of yours. You may have Cancer, Pisces, Leo, Gemini, Sagittarius placements in your chart. Or you may have your sun or moon in the 12th, 4th, 5th, 3rd, 9th house. You may be Sun, moon, Mars dominant.
Is there a new love coming in? And who are they?
(Well, take what resonates) Anyways for my taken people this person is your spouse or your future love. And even if they didn't marry you; you may have a long term relationship with them. What I mean with long is more than 2 years (depend on your definition of long-term). If you are single this person may be your spouse and if not then you'll be in a long term relationship with them. I see this person (again I'm picking up on two energies) one of them is younger or same age as you and the other is older (3 year age gap). This person is independent, mature and healed. I see that this person hate conflicts and very diplomatic. Like; they looovvveee keeping the peace. I see that they are very balanced, they take equally to what they receive. And won't use you for anything (love, affection, resources). I see that they are very determined, very structured. They like keeping everything tidy and clean. I guess their physical appearance is polished too, like you see those people who wake up at 5:00 a.m. to take a shower and shave their beard and go to work (same for women she showers put on make up, dress well) they are like this. I see also that this person (because they are very healed) they won't hesitate to walk away from things that doesn't serve them. Like, if they see that your relationship is unbalanced they will try to resolve this with you and if you didn't respond they'll leave because their inner peace is what matter. This person is very decisive, they won't make you question their feelings towards you. I see also that they are very protective, family oriented too. This person have a solid build like their body looks solid. Also, I see that they have dark hair and hazel eyes. This person can be unpredictable sometimes but not for the worst. What I mean is that they do this unpredictable thingy for the sake of fun and excitement but nothing bad (just to spice things up). At first this person look apathetic, disinterested that sometimes you'll question if they like you or not but all their apathy is a "mask" because they are nervous around you. This person saw honestly quite a lot of things in their life regarding relationships and they successful healed from it that's why I'm telling you that they won't hesitate to walk away from things that hurt them. Because they got hurt a lot in the past. So, please pile 3 take care of them but also don't allow them to walk all over you. Be balanced like them give as they give in the same amount and always communicate with them, looking at how much swords I got in the reading the communication is very important so that relationship won't go the wrong way.
What they are going to think of you?
Initially, I see that this person will think that you are either very hot physically OR they'll think that you are very active and energetic. I see also that they are going to see that you are someone who is very unpredictable too. Like you see those people who say unpredictable things and talk about taboo stuff randomly? They are going to see you like that. Also they'll think that you are very innocent or you may have comforting and familiar aura. You see those people who have something in them that make us remember someone we used to love? They will think this of you. Also they'll see that you have healing energy. Your aura and presence is very healing for them and it put them at ease. Also they will think that you are spiritual (not religious, they may be religious. Depend on the country you live in and the religions there). They'll see that you are very courage and strong. They will also sense that you have a strong spiritual protection from your spirit guides, this will scare them to not hurt you because they'll get their karma if they did. They may also see that you are lying about somethings in your life. Like for example, you may lie that your financial status/ income is higher but actually they see through that. Some of you may lie about your mental health, like if you are depressed or have any mental disorder they will see through that. Some of you may also lie about your job/ profession you may say that you are in a field that is not your actual field to impress them but please don't they'll figure it out. If you get vulnerable with them they won't hurt you because they know what it is like to get vulnerable. But overall they won't think anything bad.
Placements for them:
Air placements (Aquarius, gemini, and libra). Fire placements (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius). And taurus. Their sun or moon may be in the 1st, 5th, 9th, 11th, 12th, 7th house. They may be neptune, mars, moon, uranus dominant. For letters I didn't get any I hope this is going to help.
Pile 4 - A dead body on a boat
Your current energy:
Hey guys, How are you? I hope you are doing well. Let's start, first I see that some of you was working on a project but somehow you got deceived by the people you worked with. I see that for you this project was something you poured all your passion in but you worked with the wrong people unfortunately. Those people might deceived and used you I see that they hide how much money they got from the project and gave you just a tiny percentage of the money. I see that they are very stingy with their money and they used you to get the money. Be careful from them, I see also that some of you have fallen apart from them and others are still dealing with this sh*t. I see that for the people who you left they still want to use you again and they are trying to awake the relationship again so expect them to give you a call and if they did don't answer. If the first situation didn't resonate with you I see that you may be getting tired of your family drama. I see that you may have a very controlling and strict caregivers who most of the time didn't allow you to live freely. But this won't last, I see that you'll move out from your parents home and start fresh in another state or country because you want to be your own person. Also your parents may be divorced and you live with your dad? Away from your mother and you miss her that's what I'm seeing. I see also that despite this determination of moving and leaving; you are tired pile 4. You just can't do it anymore, I feel like I'm going to cry. I feel like you are pushing yourself too hard that it feels impossible to even keep going but you are doing it anyway. I feel like my heart sank in my chest, do you have low blood pressure? Be careful of that. Eat mindfully and chose hight quality food and work out too because your body need you to take care of it as much as other things does. This is my only single pile the others are dating or even in a relationship and I managed feeling their energy but anyways.
Confirmation this is your pile:
You may have earth placements (capricorn, virgo, taurus). Gemini, Aquarius, Leo, Scorpio too. You may be Pluto, Saturn, Mercury dominant. Your sun or moon may be in the 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 11th, 6th, 8th house.
Is there a new love coming in for you? And who are they?
Well, I didn't intend on making this; it was supposed to be a love reading but I will tell you what I got. I got a strong No for you. There is no one coming to your life right now. I see that you may be in survival mode and it is so hard to find love and connect with someone genuinely. I also see that if you want to attract someone this person will take from you and won't add any value to your life. This may be someone who is law vibrational; how so? This is someone who is not healed at all and they have no idea what spirituality means. I see that in order for you to attract someone with high value and vibrations you still need to heal yourself. I feel like you may be frustrated right now but the thing is you won't attract what you wish for if you do not heal. You are going to exactly attract someone the opposite of your wishes. That's why I'm telling you that you need to heal and elevate your vibrations. I didn't intend on making this pile as advice or self related at all. But I asked God to connect me to this collective and I'm channeling this for you in order for you to attract someone who is going to elevate your life for the better. If you chose to date right now without healing yourself you'll get someone as opposite of what you wish for. Someone who is very un-serious and not responsible at all. You may even attract the 50/50 people if you do not heal and get out of the survival mode. Right now all you have to do is to take a serious steps to build a foundation for your life. Put your whole focus and intention on making your life a beautiful garden so the butterflies can visit it and love then will blossom. Also 77 is on the bottom of the deck so, I guess luck and the divine on your side. Your guides want me to tell you that they are there for you ask them for help and healing and they will exactly guide you through it. Take care pile 4 your healing is priority and I wish you roses 🤍.
Post Date: 31st of Oct-2024 Thur
*Feedback is appreciated
#free divination#free tarot#pick a card#pick a pile#tarot community#divination#divination readings#metaphysical#love reading#free love reading#free pac#tarot pac#future spouse pac#love pac#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot
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Teach Me How To Love - Part 1
pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers
genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.
rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !
warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((
word count: 3.5k
summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.
author's note: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow, reblog, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !
find tmhtl masterlist here
It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.
You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.
He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.
“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.
“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.
You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.
He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.
“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.
His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.
“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.
“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”
“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.
You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.
This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.
He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.
Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.
"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.
“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.
“Jesus Christ, y/n, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.
Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.
Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.
“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.
“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”
“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.
Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.
“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.
“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.
You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.
“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.
You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.
“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”
He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.
“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.
“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.
“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.
“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.
“Mm. Something like that.”
“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.
He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.
You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.
His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.
“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.
He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.
“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”
Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.
“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”
He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.
“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.
You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.
He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.
You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.
You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.
“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.
You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.
You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.
You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.
You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.
You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.
“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.
“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.
He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.
“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”
His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.
“Want me to sit on it?”
“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.
“Ask nicely.”
“Y/n, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.
“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.
“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”
The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.
It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.
“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.
You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.
“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”
You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.
“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.
“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”
You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.
You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.
He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.
“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”
You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.
He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.
"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”
“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”
He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.
You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.
Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.
#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenarios#bts angst#bts smut#bts x reader#fic: tmhtl#kookooluvr
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sweet child o' mine | pt. iv
to @mrsmando - without whom this insane story would never have happened in the first place. i love you i love you i love you thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me - it has been a blast. i hope you like where we turn out! love you guys always n forever x
pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary: you're a mom. it's time to get your shit together.
warnings: bon jovi mention straight out the gate, labor/delivery [i have never given birth. those of you who have are nothing short of remarkable. please forgive if some of this is a little inaccurate or vague], use of pain medication during birth, description of pain and post-birth recovery, super emotional reader, unprotected piv, oral, alcohol consumption. DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.
word count: 12k
pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵
It’s September twenty-third.
Well, by now, it’s probably the twenty-fourth. You’ve been a little distracted, rolling between the sheets with your next-door neighbor for the last couple hours.
The wedding’s still going strong downstairs. The same Bon Jovi song has played three times over. Tommy has called Joel to ask where he is so much that Joel’s phone is now switched off and shoved to the bottom of his bag.
You’re slouched on the toilet in a sliver of moonlight. A fistful of tissue, panties loose around your ankles. Rolling your forehead side to side along the cool tile, heartbeat hammering between your temples.
Joel Miller – Joel fucking Miller – is in your bed. Naked, sweating, cock probably still half-hard.
This morning, the very idea of the man was an eyeroll. Stood in your mirror, promising yourself that this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.
This time in a month, it’ll be a foggy memory.
This time in a year, it –
His voice is muffled through the bathroom door. “Did you fall in, or somethin’?”
You snort. The milky moon blurs across your vision when you pull yourself upright. You swipe between your legs and stand, flushing the toilet.
“I needed a fucking breather,” you tease, tiptoeing back across the room.
Joel’s stretched out; a worked arm draped along the headboard. Sun-kissed to the middle of his bicep, paler across his shoulder. One leg bare on the mattress, the other under the sheets. They only just cover his modesty – dark hair trailing beneath light silk just in time.
He’s so big. It’s like you never really noticed until now. He takes up half the bed, laying like this. And sure, you’re halfway to fucked, but – has he always been so handsome?
You flop down beside him with a sigh, curling up in the burrow of sheets at his side. Your eyes trail up his body – the sheen of sweat up his side, the dark, damp hair under his arm. All the parts of him you’ve never seen before, will never see again.
You gulp. Quit fucking staring.
He doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s rubbing circles into his temples, grumbling. “How many goddamn times are they gonna play It’s My Life?”
“…for Tommy and Gina…” you nudge him, “…who never backed down…”
Joel chuckles, pulling his hand down his beard. “Twenty bucks says he’s changing that to Maria.”
“Oh, for sure. I ain’t going back down to listen to it, though.”
He hums in agreement, reaching over for his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks.
“You owe me, by the way. This is my room, remember? My fucking minibar.”
He pauses, the bottle against his bottom lip. His eyes linger south of your chin before he answers, “I’m paying for the damn room.”
“Then I want a drink from yours. Make it even.”
He clicks his teeth and drinks again. “It’s one beer. Call it an early birthday gift.”
You frown. “When the hell’s your birthday?”
“Tuesday.”
“Bullshit.”
“Serious. The twenty-sixth.”
You push yourself up onto your elbows; chest bare and on display. And it’s a strange feeling, how little you care. Twelve hours ago, you didn’t know how close to sit next to him at the ceremony. How many times you could accidentally bump knees or brush elbows and it not be weird.
But in the last two hours, he’s made you come more times than you can count. More times than anyone you’ve ever been with before – that’s for sure. And you’ve repaid the favor: the proof is still dribbling out of you. Still dripping between your legs, all pearlescent and warm. You’re soaked, swollen, still sore from the size of him.
It’s a fucking strange feeling, that you don’t mind at all.
“How old are you turning?” you ask.
Joel swallows. He settles the beer on his sternum, thumbing the corner of the label. Sucks in a deep breath and says, “Forty-eight.”
“Jesus,” you mutter, eyes wide.
He turns slowly, glaring at you. “Hilarious,” he drawls, bumping the bottle against your tummy.
You hiss at the sudden chill. Wiping cold droplets from your skin, you swipe it from his grasp.
Joel pushes himself from the bed with a quiet groan and pads across the room. His cock sways with each step, an arrowhead of thick hair at its base.
He doesn’t seem to mind, either.
You tip your chin back, taking a hefty swig.
The pulsing bass is heavier, guitar squeal sharper, when he cracks open the window. Cool air sweeps past the scent of sex and settles softly on your skin.
The mattress dips again as Joel settles back into bed. He pulls the sheet over himself, silk falling over the stubborn shape against his thigh.
“Well,” you pass him the bottle, “happy birthday, old man. Here’s to forty-eight.”
“Here’s to forty-eight,” Joel echoes, staring off into space, “and whatever the hell it has in store.”
1:29. 1:29. 1:30.
It’s blurring across your vision. The pain and the panic and the blinking of your fucking alarm clock.
Your stomach is still tensed in the aftermath of the contraction; an ache like the slow sway of the ocean, a wave rolling off into the distance. You’re hunched over the edge of the bed – knee bouncing, palms kneading your round belly.
“We’re okay,” you whisper, blowing into the still night. “We’re fine. Maybe it isn’t labor, right? Maybe it’s just those…Braxton…shit…Hicks.”
The cicadas laugh as your uterus swings again.
Another kick of pain; a bolt that winds you, piercing from your stomach down between your legs. So slow it feels fucking personal.
Your back curls, nails digging into the mattress. You grit your teeth until it passes, then push yourself to your feet, reaching for your phone.
You think of Joel: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the rough surface of his palms. The fresh, woodsy scent woven into every thread on his shirt, seeping from every pore on his skin.
The way he’d pull you under his arm and walk you to his truck. Play more Eagles or whatever shit he has to take your mind off the pain – tell you he knows, he knows as you whimper in agony. The way he’d hold your thigh the entire ride, loosening it only to weave his fingers through yours.
He’s in Houston, though. He’s something like three hours away. There’s nothing he could do, even if you did call – even if he did pick up. Even if he got in his truck right this second.
Shit. Shit fuck shit. How are you in labor right now, on this fucking night? All your teasing, all your taunting the universe. You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?
Yeah. They’re half you.
You’re on your own. It’s nothing new; you’ve been on your own for most of your life. You drove yourself to college, worked your ass off, and sold your graduation guest tickets to your roommate. You found a job by yourself, moved back to Austin and turned it into home by yourself.
You haven’t needed anyone or anything, since you were eighteen.
But – oh, Jesus, fuck it. This was a two-man job from the start. Some things you figure you can let slide – and having a kid seems like a pretty decent excuse.
Fuck it.
You move, hunched and hobbling, to the bathroom door. Slumped against the wooden frame, you cup a hand between your legs.
Sure enough, your underwear is soaked. The fluid trickles down the seam of your thigh, warm and thin. It glistens in the moonlight when you lift your fingers.
“Shit,” you whisper. “Goddamn it, Duck.”
Body tingling and almost numb with pain, you scroll through your contacts to J. You stumble into the bathroom, wet fingers slipping around the sink. A weight begins to pull low between your hips.
Two rings and the tone cuts, his voice instantly spilling a cool comfort down your spine.
There’s no hello, no double checking that you haven’t accidentally dialed him in your sleep. Only that trademark drawl, that flat tone you’d swear sounded bored, if it weren’t for the haste with which Joel asks, “You okay?” the second he answers.
As if he were awake anyway, just waiting for your call.
“Yeah,” you choke, rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just called at one in the morning to…to say hi.”
He sighs, the crackle of breath echoed by the tinkle of wind chimes. The creak of wood as he settles into a chair on Vanessa’s parents’ porch. “Alright, smartass. What is it?”
“I’m…I’m in labor.”
“Mhm. That sure is funny, baby. Good one.”
You groan. “No, Joel, I swear – I swear, I just went into labor.”
He pauses. The chimes titter in the background. “You’re…You ain’t kidding me?”
The sharp peak of pain swipes the air clean from your lungs. The phone hits the sink with a clatter, drowning out your cry.
This kid is beating the ever-loving shit out of you. You’d be embarrassed if you had the energy to think about it.
“Baby?” Joel yells, loud enough that the sound loops around the bowl. His voice lifts to an octave you didn’t know it could reach. “Talk to me. Please, talk to me.”
Your fingers clamp around the phone. “I’m f-fine. It’s fine. I just gotta…gotta change my fuckin’ sheets, Joel, my waters broke while I was sleeping –”
“Oh, Christ,” he growls. The door squeals as he storms back into Vanessa’s family home. “The sh…Change the goddamn sheets? You gotta get to a hospital, darlin’!”
You laugh, head tipping back. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Feels like the kid’s trying to kill me, but I can – shit, I can take ‘em.”
There’s the jangle of keys, the ruffle of a shirt being thrown over his head. “Yeah?” Joel says.“You can take childbirth, all on your own? Do me a favor and call a damn ambulance, baby.”
“An ambulance,” you repeat, laughing again.
“Yes, an ambulance. Call 9-1-1 right now. You want me to call ‘em? Let me go grab the landline –”
“Joel, do not call an ambulance –”
And if you thought you’d heard him at breaking point before – plucking your underwear from his lawn, dragging you around Home Depot, paling in your room with a pregnancy test in his hands – you know you have, now.
“You gotta get to a goddamn hospital now, baby!”
His voice trembles at its end, quivers like the pluck of a guitar string. A high-pitched echo, a nervous vibration.
Joel’s panicking.
It’s the second thing in less than five minutes that you never knew he could do.
“I can’t afford a f-fucking ambulance, Joel,” you yelp, sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.
“I will pay for it,” he pleads, “I’ll pay. Just – you gotta call them. You gotta…” He sighs again, breath wavering. “You’re in labor, and you’re alone. If anything happened to you, I –”
A hushed voice interrupts him. Follows him through the house, knotting her nightgown around her waist and twisting her dark tresses into a ponytail.
“She’s in labor,” Joel tells her. “I can’t stay. I’m going back for her.”
The porch door slams shut before Vanessa can reply, and Joel’s back outside again. Gravel crunching beneath his boots, crickets screaming in the background. “Still with me?” he asks.
“Still here,” you breathe, tracing your nails along your leg. “Duckie says hi, I guess.”
He hums. “Hi, Duckie. You little shit.”
You rock back and forth, eyes closed. Breathing between contractions, your head low between your shoulders. “How long will you be?”
The truck door creaks open. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll be…Fuck, I’ll be a couple hours, at least. I’m on my way, alright?”
Tears drip onto your bare thighs, the salt spilling into your mouth. “Joel,” you shake your head, “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he says. “Are you kidding? Got us this far ‘n now you want to bail? That ain’t you, baby. Come on, now.”
“I wanna bail,” you insist. You slump to the floor, head lolling over the rim of the bathtub. Weeping like a little kid. “I’m scared, Joel. I’m so scared.”
“I know you are. Lord knows I’m scared, too – scared as hell. But –” the engine roars to life, “– I can’t wait to finally meet this kid. Our kid. Can’t wait to hold ‘em. Can’t wait to see you become a mom, and me become a dad.”
“Mom and Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.
“Mom and Dad, right? Yeah. You can do this. I know you can.”
The bathroom blurs behind your tears. You close your eyes, replacing the pale night with warmer dawn. Replacing it with images of tiny hands and feet; missing front teeth and a love-worn teddy tucked safely into bed.
Joel’s voice is softer, kinder. Calmer, now that he’s closing the hundred and fifty miles between the two of you.
“Just – don’t let the kid give you any shit, alright?”
The fear boils into determination. Something more irritating than it is terrifying. You inhale, blowing a heavy, shuddered breath to the ceiling. “Whatever, Miller.”
“Attagirl,” he says. “That’s the spirit. Now, call a damn ambulance.”
With a scoff, you push yourself to your feet, waddling towards the foot of your bed. You sway back and forth, holding your bump and listening to the hum of Joel’s truck.
And then you hear it.
Three sharp raps, from downstairs.
You wander to the hallway, squinting in the dark. “Joel?”
“Hm?”
“Are you…?”
The sound grows louder the nearer you draw. Quick knuckles against your front door.
“Am I what, darlin’?”
You lower yourself down the stairs, fist tight around the rail.
It’s August again. Sun’s encore blazing through your kitchen windows, bleeding golden through your living room. Everything shining, everything new and untouched.
Knock knock knock.
Light satin, duck egg blue; string lights and a diamond-encrusted necklace. The bones of your wardrobe propped against your porch. A rattling toolbox hanging from his fist, a positive pregnancy test in yours.
The knocking halts when you flick the porch light on. She calls your name once, old voice quivering.
Your phone is still glued to your ear as you pull the door open. “Al…?”
She squints at you and lifts a hand to shield from the light. She’s still in her pajamas – green dressing gown loose and lifting in the breeze.
Her eyes drop to the tee draped over your bump, the silver stream of fluid down the inside of your thigh. As she opens her mouth to speak, your hand slams into the doorpost.
“Oh, fuck,” you groan, and Alice Brown steps straight over the threshold.
“Are you in labor? Oh, sweetie. Sit down, sit.”
She backs you towards the stairs. One bony, trembling hand around yours – squeezing as tight as you are. She rubs up and down your spine, shushing until the pain subsides.
You blink up at her glowing figure, haloed by the porch light outside. “How did you…?”
She hushes you with a finger in the air. “I’m up most nights. I heard you from the window. Have you called 9-1-1?”
You shake your head, beginning to cry again.
Alice just nods, dismissing your bullshit. “Where’s your overnight bag, sweetheart?”
You toss a thumb over your shoulder. “It’s up in the nursery. I can go grab it –”
She holds you still with a hand on your shoulder. “Stay.” Another curt nod, then, “Get your shoes, get yourself over to my car. Do you need pants? You need pants. My car, right now.”
“Alice, you really don’t have to –”
“Get in the car,” she insists, climbing past you. “I’m right behind you!”
You watch her figure dissolve into the dim upstairs, and lift the phone back to your ear. “Did you…hear all that?”
“Alice Brown,” Joel replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d I tell ya? That woman doesn’t miss a goddamn thing in this neighborhood.”
“Three centimeters,” the obstetrician says, covering your legs with the sheet. “Still a little ways to go.”
The suite is hushed and still. Walls an unoffending shade of oatmeal; decorated only with oak paneling and a framed painting of some lilies.
A nurse tilts the shades, averting the twinkling city lights in the distance. She turns and smiles – the same fucking smile everyone’s been giving you since you set foot in the place. Head tilted, brows arched.
Sympathy that you want to chew up and spit back out at their feet.
You force yourself to smile in return, and she floats back out to the bustling reception.
“Will he make it?” Alice asks. She’s still in her pajamas; the floral print goes well with the interior of the room. “The father, I mean. Joel.”
The obstetrician peels the gloves from her hands. She shrugs as she drops them into a wastebin. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “Things are moving a little quickly, but I don’t see you having your baby in the next couple hours.”
“You don’t know this kid like I do,” you groan, shifting in the bed.
She lifts the cardiotocograph reading, scanning the jagged lines. “You’re doing great,” she says. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just holler if you need anything.” She strolls off, letting the door sweep shut behind her.
Alice adjusts your pillow and squeezes your shoulder. She holds out a cup of water, guiding the straw to your lips. “He’ll be here,” she whispers.
You take a sip and settle back. “I don’t think I’m that lucky. I told him I hoped he’d get a flat on the ride there. This feels like karma.”
“Well, if it’s anyone’s karma –” she wiggles her fingers, “– it’s his. Going to Houston was ridiculous in the first place. Hell, you two not being together is ridiculous.”
You scoff, shaking your head. “Just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean we should be together. You shouldn’t be with someone for the sake of a baby who won’t even know any different.”
“Right, right,” Alice agrees, turning away. “You should only be with someone if you love them.”
“Exactly. And me and Joel – we’re not in love.”
She murmurs to herself. She lowers into a chair by the window, crossing her arms. “I’m seventy-three,” she says. “I’m not a damn fool.”
Something twists awkwardly between your hips. You wince, clutching your bump.
Duckie’s heartbeat pulses through the room. Muffled little bubbles of noise, popping one after the other. Strong and steady as hell – a determined little thing, the doctor said.
Don’t I fucking know it, you thought.
You reach for the silicone mask and cup it over your mouth. The gas is cold and funny when you inhale, feeling it shoot straight for the back of your skull. It does little more than dull the spiking pain, but still – you tip your head back, eyes rolling closed.
You let yourself fade from the suite – its yellow lamplight and hushed chatter outside – to somewhere warmer. Somewhere brighter.
Birdsong high overhead, and the whispering leaves on the oak trees in your yard. The sweet breeze on your skin, soothing the sting of the sun. Prickling wood on your fingertips, the gentle strum of a guitar somewhere beyond the fence.
Peering between the slats, catching glimpses of him like watching a film reel. His head nodding, his foot tapping. The concentration tight on his face; the perfect pick and pluck of his fingers on each string.
Half-hoping that he’ll spot you, scold you for spying and storm back into his house. That he might bring it up later – And another thing, while he whips his newspaper from your grasp, ignoring your cackling.
Half-hoping that he won’t. That he’ll sit there at his back door, bottle of beer at his feet, playing to his audience of sparrows.
And you’ll stand here, wishing you could ask the name of each song he hums.
The contraction splits your daydream in two.
In two hours, you dilate almost three centimeters.
You pace back and forth across the suite, pausing only when your womb clenches like a fist. The contractions are lasting longer, swinging lower, and punching harder. They’re giving you less recovery time; less of a chance to get back on your feet.
It’s a fucking nightmare.
Joel’s still not here. Last you heard, he’d just hit Travis County. Twenty minutes, baby, I promise. That was half an hour ago.
It might be for the better that he hasn’t gotten here. You’ve warned Alice three times already that you might just beat the shit out of him, whenever he walks through that door.
And you know what, sweetheart? She chuckled. I bet you could beat the shit out of him, sore as you are.
“Fuck,” you cry out, collapsing onto the bed. You stretch out forward, head hanging between your shoulders, and gulp back more of the laughing gas. The ache barrels from your stomach to your hips, peaking in the very center.
Alice rubs circles into the small of your back. It’s not helping, but you let her do it anyways. Gives her something to tell the neighbors that isn’t damaging to your reputation.
“That’s it,” she coos. “A little longer, just a little…”
The door clicks open just as the tense band begins to loosen.
Your head is spinning. The mask slips from your fingers.
Alice’s hand pauses. “…a little longer…” she repeats, voice drifting. Her weight leaves your back, replaced by something heavier, stronger.
Safer.
Someone grounding, someone smelling of pine and sweet spice.
He sits on the bed at your back and curves around your body. Lips to your shoulder like the sun in your backyard. His beard scratches against your hot skin.
You blink your eyes open.
Joel’s watch face winks back at you. His hands are over yours – bigger, wider. His fists swallow yours whole. They turn, slipping beneath your palms, and your fingers lace together.
“Joel…” you breathe, face turning in to his neck.
“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, wiping sweat from your brow.
You fall limp against his chest. “Holy shit.”
He looks exhausted. Gray, almost translucent. Looks like he’s just driven a couple hundred miles, half asleep and wholly panicked.
But – he’s here. He made it.
The sight of him, the feel of him holding you upright, melts away any anger or resolve to fight back. For now, at least. Picking an argument can wait until there isn’t a human splitting you in two.
He’s here. You’re not doing this alone.
“Holy shit,” Joel repeats. “You okay?”
“How did you get here so –?”
“Ninety-five the entire way.”
You frown. “Only ninety-five?”
“Trunk’s a hunk a’ shit,” he admits. “Couldn’t break a hundred.”
Alice scoffs, somewhere across the room.
He cradles you, his lips to your forehead. “Where we at?” he asks, staring at the paper churning from the cardiotocograph.
“Five, almost s–shit – six centimeters.” You clamp down on his hands, your uterus winding again.
Joel holds the mask back to your lips and you suck another chemical breath in. “Six? Jesus,” he gapes at Alice, “ain’t that…ain’t that real fast? For – for your first?”
Your fingers are weak and shaky, resting on his knuckles. “Your kid has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter into the silicone.
“That ain’t from me,” he says. “That’s all you, maestro.”
You turn closer into his shirt with a groan. He’s solid as a rock, swaying you through it. He’s here.
Alice swipes her coat from a hook by the door. She shakes her head, pulling it over her shoulders. “Ninety-five, Joel? Sweet Lord.”
He rolls his eyes. His hand curves around your bump. “Had a little bit of an emergency, Alice,” he says, watching your face twist with pain.
“And what if you’d had an accident?”
“I didn’t, Alice.”
“You could’ve, goin’ that damn fast. You’re lucky you’re even here.”
Joel finally looks up. “It’s four in the mornin’,” he protests, like a teenager. “Lucky if I passed five cars.”
You give him a weak smile, lowering the mask. You won’t win, you mouth.
He presses his lips to your head. “’s too much fun,” he murmurs, and you snort.
“Oh!” Alice throws a hand up. “I’m glad you find it funny!” She buttons her coat and glares back at both of you, hands on her hips.
She’s a busybody – has been since before you even moved in. She showed up on your doorstep on your first night with a casserole in hand, and made sure to get a good look at your living room before she shuffled back to her own place.
Always watching, always listening.
You never thought you’d see the day when you’d actually be thankful for her snoopiness.
“Thank you, Alice,” you say, head tilting. “For getting me here, for holding my hand…Thank you.”
Her expression thaws, eyes gleaming. With a sniff, she composes herself – and then points to Joel. “You call me as soon as that baby arrives. I won’t sleep, Joel, until you call.”
“I’ll call,” he assures.
She looks back at you. Balls her crepe paper fists, gives them a hearty shake. “Good luck, Mom,” she says, and with one last glance, slips out of the room.
Joel turns back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Take it she was out tendin’ to her tulips again?”
“Yeah,” you snicker, “one in the morning, those fuckers had to be watered.”
He chuckles. “You feelin’ okay?”
“Better now,” you tell him.
“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. A goddamn idiot, headin’ off like that. So damn stupid.”
“Shh, you’re here now.” You wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I just needed you to be here.”
He nods. “I’m here, whatever you need. Tell me what I can do.”
You take a deep breath. “I need…”
Joel straightens – bracing, ready to jump at your first request.
“…I need a fucking break, Joel. I’m so tired, and this fucking kid –”
“Alright,” he sighs, shifting from behind you. “You and your goddamn jokes.”
You smirk, looking over your shoulder. “You missed me.”
“Hm,” he fixes the neckline of your gown, “I missed you. I really did.”
Born at 07:43. It’s a girl.
It’s like being broken open. Like splitting at the seams; your old self falling from you like shards of fruit. Separating, rolling apart; making way for someone older, wiser. Someone with all of the answers in the palm of her hand.
Mom.
You finally get it. She turns to you, finally glances over her shoulder. And she’s no stranger – no one you haven’t known your entire life. I know you, you whisper, nail trailing her smile lines and the pimples along her jaw.
I see you every time I look in the mirror.
Duckie is pulled from your body with a scream like bloody murder – a scream which matches the whimper you let out in shock, if not in volume.
The kid can scream. Jesus Christ, she can scream. It pierces the dull room; deafens you for a couple seconds the first time you hear it.
You’ve never heard a sound so fucking beautiful.
She wails as they lift her from your body. All curled-up, wriggling in the midwife’s arms. She wails as they slot her beneath your chin, as they wipe the blood and amniotic fluid from her.
She wails until the moment her skin meets yours, and as though it’s all you’ve ever known, you begin shushing her cries. Your arms close around her body, rocking her until she settles.
Her tiny hand grabs for something, for someone, for –
You.
Her mom.
“Joel,” you gasp, watching her tiny, pruned fingers clasp tight around just one of yours. “She’s…she’s so small…”
He sniffs in reply, lifting his hand from your shoulder to wipe his face.
You turn to look up at him.
He looks as broken open as you feel. Eyes bloodshot and soaking, tears streaming into his thick beard. A sob in his throat which chokes and silences him, until he catches your eye and he can’t help but laugh with elation.
“Look at her,” he weeps, all torn up by the little girl in your arms. He presses his lips to your forehead in a crash of a kiss: wet, soaking wet on your skin.
You beam up at him when he pulls away. “We did it,” you whisper.
Joel shakes his head. He runs a thumb across the damp print left on your head. “You did it, honey,” he mutters. “I was nothin’ but a spectator.”
“You almost missed the game,” you quip, and he laughs again.
Your body throbs; nearly numb with pain, heavy with fatigue and emotion. But as long as she’s here, this tiny tornado of a girl, you don’t feel a thing.
Clenching and then unclenching her fist around your finger – so delicate compared to the punches she was throwing at your ribs just six hours ago. She’s worth every fucking second of it.
You finally fucking get it.
She fits so perfectly in the crook of your arm. It feels as though your body was made just to hold her – the very shape of you, designed especially for the very shape of her.
You wonder whether it was the same for your mom. Whether you came along and made her feel whole, for the first time in her life.
Duckie’s eyes open – all glossy and brand new, blinking up at the both of you like she needed no introduction. She already knows you, from the inside out. Her dad’s graying beard, the threads of silver around his temples. Her mom’s tear-stained cheeks, eyes red and bleary with sleeplessness and pure love.
You’re Mom, you’re Dad.
It’s all she’s ever known.
The pillow sighs as you lean back into it. The doctor begins repairing the damage done between your legs; threading and knitting your body back together.
You’re caught between a state of bliss and shock. Your brain is doing much the same work to itself as the woman between your knees is. Patching over all the bloody parts: the screams which tore your skin, the pain which cracked your teeth.
None of it holds a candle to the weight of her in your arms. No matter how tired you are, you can’t take your eyes off her. Her puffy cheeks, the little creases between her brows. No matter how sore, you never want to let go of her.
Joel runs a finger down Duckie’s cheek. “Ain’t she the most beautiful thing in the world?”
“I love her,” you say, bubbling again. “I love her more than anything.”
An hour old, and she’s already a daddy’s girl.
Joel ambles back and forth at the foot of your bed in the recovery suite, bouncing Duck in his arms. He’s never looked so relaxed, so natural at something. He’s never seemed so content, so peaceful.
Everything he’s ever made with his hands – structures and framework and your goddamn closet – and yet this, this tiny accident, this baby girl you were so sure you’d dreamt up right up until an hour ago –
This is the thing he’s proudest of.
Morning lifts through the windows, all soft and vanilla. It floats around him, sunlight spilling across his skin and breathing life and color into him.
Sunlight – or his daughter. They’re the same thing, anyway.
You pull apart a slice of toast, watching. Just watching. Sweet strawberry jam on your tongue, the flavor of everything sharper, fresher. The colors brighter, more vivid.
The world makes more sense like this, you think. Painted in shades of honey and ochre; a room in a corner of the world where time slows to a halt. A soft lullaby from his lips, and the little coos from hers.
The ache of love and labor lingers deep inside you, and nothing has ever made more sense.
You suck the sticky sweet from your fingertips.
Joel looks up, toying with Duckie’s hand. “You want her back?” he asks, a dumb grin on his face.
You shake your head. “I like watching you.”
He scrunches his nose, nuzzling it against his daughter’s, and whispers, “I wasn’t gonna give you back, anyways.” He sways in the early light, staring down at her. “Jesus,” he mutters, swiping at his eyes again, “I didn’t…I didn’t know I could love somethin’ this much.”
“Me, either.”
He drifts over, lowering himself slowly onto the edge of the bed. He extends his elbow, still cradling the baby, and helps you pull yourself upright.
You hiss, a not-so-subtle sting between your legs.
“You, uh…you think of a name yet?” Joel asks.
“Not yet,” you reply, hooked onto his shoulder. Duck blows a bubble and you wipe it with your knuckle. “I thought we were sticking with Duckie?”
His cheeks swell. The sun kisses the edges of his beard. “I thought of one,” he says softly. “Maybe. It’s your call.”
You yawn into his shirt, the warmth of him calm and soothing. “Alright, Miller. Hit me.”
He looks down at the baby nestled in his safe hands. The smallest thing either of you have ever seen.
The name must roll around his head a few times, the way he tilts to-and-fro – looking at her from one angle, then the next. Deciding, when he pulls back, that she suits it from every direction. Like it was her name long before he or even you knew it.
You watch his lips shape the name before you hear it.
Sarah.
And for what feels like forever, you just stare at him. The syllables lingering in the air like glistening specks of dust in a sunbeam. Your eyes follow them down to your daughter, now sleeping peacefully with two hands around one of her dad’s thumbs.
“Sarah,” you repeat, remembering whose name it was, whose name it is – whose name it has always been. “Sarah Miller.”
Joel’s shoulders lift. “What do you think? She look worthy of bein’ a Sarah?”
The rustle of tissue paper. Blue and green and purple tearing between your fingers. The funny fuzz of pom poms as your hands rummaged through the bag. Her hand swimming towards you, an orange foam fish riding the waves between her fingers. Bubbly sounds erupting from her lips.
Your girlish giggle. Her silly grin. Hopscotch along the sidewalk; stopping to look for cars before she’d walk you across the street. How much do I love you, baby girl?
More than the whole world, Mama.
“I love it,” you breathe, tears running to the corners of your mouth. “Sarah fucking Miller.”
“Sarah fuckin’ Miller,” Joel echoes; two wet lines the same as yours, curving down his cheeks. He shifts her into the crook of his arm.
You’re impossibly close. Your chin rests on his shoulder, foreheads brushing when you lean in to each other. His breath is hot on your lips, closer and closer and closer until –
He tastes like salt, rich with emotion. Salt, and then sweet when your tongue meets his. He lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, and your fingers link around his wrist.
And you know you shouldn’t be doing it – know this isn’t your man to be kissing. But in this room, where no one else can see – where it’s just you, him, and all the best parts of yourselves shaped into someone better – he feels like yours.
Just for a moment.
Joel takes the first week of Sarah’s life off work.
He spends a good twenty minutes on the phone to the contractor, talking more about the kid than he does the job. Her eyelashes, her fingernails, the way her legs scrunch anytime he lifts her up.
He’s besotted with the entire thing. And he tells everybody so.
He moves in with you both, stays in your guestroom. It’s a week of no sleep, no peace, and a total of three showers between you. Wearing the same clothes covered in spit-up and drool until one of you has the time or energy to do laundry.
It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. By your count, you’ve already cried three times to Joel – terrified you’re getting it all wrong.
But you’re doing it. Jesus God, you’re doing it.
You order takeout most nights. You can’t stand long enough to cook just yet, and you don’t trust Joel not to burn your fucking kitchen down – despite his protests. And it feels like, after everything your body’s given you, it deserves a greasy pizza and some chicken wings.
You rot on the couch together, watching shitty TV and arguing over reruns of Jeopardy! – until Sarah wakes and the whole thing begins again.
Joel loses the game of rock, paper, scissors tonight.
“Shh, baby girl. ‘s alright now, I gotcha,” he lulls, tucking her back in to her bassinet.
She fusses and stretches out; arms over her head, legs curled up. Her onesie is still a little too big – the socked feet all baggy, the sleeves rolled up her wrists.
He lingers for a moment as she drifts off, a hand stroking her tummy. Watching, always watching her. The rise and fall of her stomach, the puffs of breath from her nostrils, her lips still suckling away in her sleep.
“I swear I have a baby photo that looks just like her,” you say. “Same nose and everything.”
Joel clicks his teeth. “Got her looks from her mom. Lucky thing.”
“Low-hanging fruit,” you snort.
He drifts back over, sinking into the couch at your side. “Doin’ okay?” he asks, and you nod.
Every muscle in your body still feels like a ton weight. Your stomach is still swollen; there are still stitches between your legs. There are moments you can’t tell if you’re crying because of hormones, exhaustion, or joy.
Every time, it’s a combination of all three.
Life before feels so long ago – and it hasn’t even been a fortnight. But then you held her for the first time, and now – your arm misses the weight of her when she’s not in it. Your house feels eerily quiet when she’s not laughing, or whimpering, or screaming the fucking roof down.
You can feel your daughter growing up already, and she’s only ten days old.
On the mantelpiece, safe in a stippled gold frame, your mom beams down over her. The photo at least twenty years old, the memory even older. Laughing, the way she always was; nothing quite so funny as a joke frozen in time.
Joel prods you with his elbow. “She’d be proud of you, you know. Your mom.”
“Oh,” you scoff, “no, she’d be like, Holy shit. This kid totally kicked your ass.”
He chuckles. “Sure she did,” he shrugs, “she’s your kid.”
The TV babbles to itself across the room. In its glow, Joel meets your eye. A tiny, pearly fleck swimming in deep honey.
It’s familiar – each shade of bronze in his eyes, each thread of silver through his hair. Like you’ve mapped each and every line on his skin, collecting them like the sleepless hours between you.
Everything about him feels so normal. Burnt toast in the morning, a spoon clinking around a mug of coffee. The rustle of the newspaper, the sizzle of eggs in the pan, the baby snoring on your chest.
Everything – and yet nothing you’ve ever known.
“I miss her,” you whisper. “I miss my mom.”
His hand finds yours instantly. “I know, baby. I know you do.”
You slouch down, leaning on his shoulder, and close your eyes. Joel presses his lips to the crown of your head, his thumb looping around your knuckles.
Sarah gurgles in her sleep. She sighs – a satisfied little sound. Nothing has ever made more sense.
His voice rumbles against your skull. “Who sent the lilies?”
Your eyes flutter open. “Hm?”
Joel flicks his finger towards the window, towards a sprawl of speckled, cream flowers. “The lilies? They weren’t there this morning.”
“Oh…” You turn to look up at him, cringing.
He sees the flicker of her behind your eyes. Her lustrous curtain of hair, her perfect almond nails.
“Really?” Joel asks, mirroring your expression.
You nod, trying not to laugh. “From her and Kate. You were upstairs with Sarah when she came by. I offered to call you down, but – she just wanted to drop ‘em and go.”
“What did she…? Did she say anything?”
Your head shakes. “She just…she said congratulations, said she hoped we were okay. Then she got in her car and she left. I kinda figured things weren’t sunshine and roses, anyway. You haven’t fuckin’ seen her since Houston.”
He snorts, fingers massaging his eyes. “I was goin’ to tell you,” he mumbles into his palms, “I just…Honey, I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you mutter.
“Yes, I do,” he insists. His eyes flit over to Sarah, then back to you. “We haven’t really talked it through yet, me ‘n her. I called her a few days ago, we agreed it’s time. It – it’s past time. I shoulda called it months ago.”
“I guess,” you sigh. “Are you okay?”
Joel’s brow furrows. “’course I am. I got the most beautiful baby girl in the world,” and then, rolling his eyes, “you’re here.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you clip, batting his arm. “Vanessa could do way better, anyways.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
You squeeze his fingers, softly adding, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joel.”
He stares down at your clasped hands. He looks tired, worn out. You figure it’s not just from the newborn. But he takes a deep breath, something the color of relief dawning on his skin, and looks you dead in the eye.
“I’m not.”
“Hey, Duckie – can you say, Happy birthday, Daddy?”
A vinyl wobbles on the turntable – some acoustic record from when Joel was a teenager. There’s wrapping paper still crumpled beneath the coffee table; four plates with more crumbs than cake left, dotted around the room.
Tommy leans in, a lopsided party hat on his head, and tickles Sarah’s chin.
She blinks at him, unamused, then scrunches her little nose and turns back into your chest.
He sighs, straightening. “She don’t like her uncle Tommy all that much,” he grumbles, sulking back over to the couch. Maria puts a consoling arm around his shoulder.
You rest your lips on Sarah’s head, breathing in her sweet scent. Swaying back and forth, you tease, “She don’t like anyone all that much, not unless they’re her daddy.”
Joel’s head lifts and he smiles, eyes glistening. He watches you and Sarah dance; laughs when you twirl her around and she tips her head back, flashing a gummy grin.
“She’ll come around to ya,” he tells Tommy, wandering over to your side. “We all learned to, eventually.”
Tommy scoffs. “Very funny, old man. Jesus.”
Joel stoops down to let Sarah run her small hands through his beard. He catches her fingertips between his lips and pretends to nibble on them.
She giggles, squirming in your arms. Her fingers find the sweeps of hair on his forehead and, taking a fistful, she tugs.
“Christ,” Joel hisses, pulling back.
“That was on you this time,” you chuckle, pointing a finger. “You know she does that, and you still fall for it.”
Maria glances down at her watch. “Is that the time?” she asks, turning to Tommy. “We should really turn in.”
“Oh – right, right.” Tommy tips the last of his beer into his mouth. “We’re takin’ Mom to brunch tomorrow. Better get some goddamn rest.”
Joel hums, still massaging his hairline. “Hey,” he whispers, elbowing you. “Maybe I should take her over. She’s getting sleepy – ain’t you, little Duck?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Tommy stands and holds a hand out. “Why don’t you let Maria and I take her? We’ll tuck her in, keep an eye on her. We weren’t half bad the other day, while y’all were at work. And if she’s stayin’ at Joel’s tonight anyway…”
You glance to Joel, who shrugs. Something shaped like Sure.
“As long as you don’t mind,” you reply, bouncing the baby slowly. “Let me go grab her things.”
Joel’s hand slips across the small of your back as you pass, making for the stairs. He lingers at the bottom, watching until you turn into the nursery with Sarah in the crook of your arm.
You set her down in her crib and gather some of her favorites: a yellow blanket, a duck comforter, a rattle shaped like an elephant. She watches contentedly as you shuffle back and forth, staring when you lean over the wooden rail.
“You know how much I love you?” you whisper, curling a finger inside her fist. She squeezes, and you say, “More than the whole world.”
She grabs at the chain dangling from your neck, the letter S catching the light. Instead, she lifts your finger to her mouth. Her nails scratch light as a feather across your skin. Her gums are tiny and soft around your knuckle.
Everything about her is tiny and soft. Her sweeping eyelashes, her plushy cheeks. Her round tummy, and the squeals she lets free as you dot kisses and blow raspberries all over it. No matter how much she’s grown in three months, she’s still so tiny.
She’ll always be the smallest, sweetest thing you’ve ever known. And she’s all yours.
“Jesus, kid,” you sniff, swiping at your tears. You slip your hands around her back and prop her on your hip. “Alright, let’s go. Quit making your mom cry.”
The bag over your shoulder, you carry her out of the room and into the dark hallway. It’s quiet downstairs; nothing but the crackle of the record player, the distant chink of dishes in the kitchen.
That – and hushed voices in the living room.
“Joel,” Tommy says, over and over again. He’s trying to cut in between his brother’s rambling. Joel – listen to me. Just listen, for one second –”
You linger on the bottom step, trying to split Joel’s voice from Tommy’s. Trying to pluck the words out, over Maria’s humming from the next room.
“…and it ain’t that simple, Tommy it’s –”
“What ain’t simple about it? You have a –” Tommy says it through his teeth, “– you have a kid together, Joel. You really think she’s gonna –”
Sarah grabs the charm around your neck and shakes suddenly, rattling the chain.
You close your hand around hers, losing your balance. “Shhhhit, Duckie, you –”
Joel’s eyes snap to your figure as you step down. He clears his throat, leaning away from Tommy. “Hey – hey, darlin’.”
“Hey,” you reply. Bright. Chipper. Unclenching your fist to let your daughter shake your necklace some more.
She squeals with delight when she spots Joel across the room.
“She ready to go?” he asks, slinging a quick – telling – look at Tommy.
You look between the brothers, browns quirking. They look as guilty as each other: scratching their beards, staring at the furniture instead of you. “Uhuh,” you reply, tongue against your teeth. “Everything…everything okay?”
Tommy slaps his thighs as he stands. “Everything’s great, sweetheart. Sure as shit. Joel – you, uh…you got a key on ya?”
“Oh, yep.” Joel reaches into his pocket. He unhooks a silver key from the chain and drops it into his brother’s open palm.
Tommy calls for Maria. He sidesteps around you, face flushed and smiling.
She floats through from the kitchen, drying her palms on her jeans. “Where’s my baby duck?” she sings, reaching for Sarah.
You pass her over and she melts into her aunt’s arms, curling up into a little pink lump on her chest. “She just had a feed, like, twenty minutes ago, so – she should go down pretty well. And there are more bottles in Joel’s fridge, if you need ‘em.”
Maria nods, wrapping Sarah’s blanket around her. She lifts the bag strap from your shoulder and hands it to Tommy. “I’ll text you as soon as she’s down. Come on, Duckie, let’s get you to bed.”
Tommy leans over and squeezes your arm, winking as he follows his wife. He calls goodnight to Joel, lifting a pointed finger over his head, and closes the door behind them.
Things could not have gone smoother.
It’s suspicious as shit.
You turn when you hear Joel shifting.
“C’mon,” he utters, a pile of plates in one hand. “I ain’t leavin’ you with this mess.” He heads through to the kitchen, broad figure swaying.
The plates spill into the sink, water trickling over them. Joel hums to himself as he gets to work with a sponge in hand.
You linger in the living room.
Things have been good lately – peaceful. You’re in as much of a routine as Sarah will allow: a steady pattern of dropping her off and picking her back up, patchwork family dinners, daytrips whenever both of you can make them.
Your body is healing, pulling itself back together. You don’t have to think about being Mom anymore – she walks in stride with you. The world is painted a new shade of normal – one where you can do anything with a baby on your hip, one where love becomes your first language.
One where you swallow back the ache in your heart, for better or for worse. The only piece of you still fractured. The only wound left open.
Joel’s birthday cards lie flat on the coffee table. You pluck them up one by one – his parents’, Tommy and Maria’s, yours – and Sarah’s.
A messy splotch of a handprint, bright yellow paint smeared across half the fucking card (she hasn’t quite mastered self-control yet). A googly eye plastered to the bird’s chest; orange crayon for the beak and legs.
Sure, you took charge for most of the project – but when he opened it and saw his daughter’s little masterpiece, you caught him swiping his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He snuggled into her, perched on his lap, and whispered, Thank you, little Duckie.
You prop them along your mantelpiece, dotted around your mom’s photo. When you step back, looking from son to brother to…a good friend, you could almost pretend.
Almost pretend that they belong here, on this mantelpiece. There is no yours and his. Just one of everything; nothing doubled nor halved.
Almost pretend that he won’t collect them as he leaves, break into another teary laugh at the sight of the duck painting, and then kiss your cheek goodnight. Promise to have your daughter back in time to go swimming tomorrow morning.
Almost.
“Hey,” Joel calls, “did you, uh – did you hear Tommy talkin’ about Jackson?”
You slip into the kitchen, side by side with him at the sink. “Uh, yeah,” you reply, lifting a towel. “Moose, pine trees. Yep.”
“It sounds beautiful. You think we should take a trip up there sometime? Could be Sarah’s first vacation.”
“You mean the three of us?”
He shrugs, scrubbing a bowl in the water. “Sure. I don’t think Duckie would let one of us stay behind, do you? She’d scream the damn airport down,” he chuckles, looking back to the twinkling bubbles.
You hum. “Maybe.”
“You don’t feel like it?”
“No, I do. I just – I don’t know. Maybe someday.”
“Okay,” Joel says, nodding. “Put a pin in it.”
He passes you a dripping plate and you drag the towel over it, circling the pattern until the suds are wiped clean. And another, and another.
It feels awkward. It feels stiff. There’s something hanging between you, heavy on both your shoulders. A weight you haven’t felt around Joel in over a year.
You turn to him as he stacks the last plate on the draining board. “Is that what you were talking to Tommy about?”
Joel pauses. “You heard that, huh?”
“Only the part about having a kid. It’s none of my business, I know, I just –”
“Actually,” he clears his throat, “it’s plenty your business.”
He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. A deep breath, cheeks puffing as he exhales. His grip on the dish towel whitens his knuckles.
He’s…nervous. The same shade of gray he wore the night you went into labor.
He takes another unsteady breath.
“Joel?” you ask, head tilting. “Whatever it is, you can say it. I got whiskey, if that’ll make it easier. Probably tastes like shit, but…”
His expression cracks. His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. Only a little, but enough. Enough to let the words slip through.
“You know, that night at Tommy’s wedding was one of the best nights of my life.”
Your heartbeat thuds a bassline in your ears; the rush of your blood the squealing guitar. Skin tacky, moans caught between teeth. Laughter and lust tangling together in the air.
“Yeah?” you ask.
Joel nods. “Yeah. Lying there – talking, laughing, messin’ around. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in all my life. I could’ve stayed in that room with you forever.”
Your eyes start to sting. You look away.
“I thought I would regret it. I thought I should regret it. And I never did. But then,” he takes a deep breath, “the next day, I look out front, and my newspaper’s sittin’ on my lawn. And for two weeks straight, I kept checking – and there it was. I thought, Sure as shit, she regrets the whole thing. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”
You shake your head. “I wanted to see you again. I missed – I missed you. Missed pissin’ you off.”
He laughs. “I missed you pissin’ me off. Missed that annoying as hell thud on my porch.”
“I didn’t know if you wanted me to – you know,” you admit, and Joel nods.
“We got pretty good at avoidin’ each other,” he grumbles. “And then – with Vanessa, I thought I’d be doin’ you a favor. Letting you off light.”
“You…you took her number to do me a favor?”
“Naw,” Joel says. “I took her number ‘cause her brother in-law has a lumber company, and I had a closet to build. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I brought it up to her at the wedding. By the time I thought it through, you ‘n I weren’t speakin’.”
You stare at him, jaw slack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He shakes his head. He edges closer to you. Voice low, he says, “I shouldn’t’ve gone out on that first date with her. I shouldn’t’ve done any of it. I should’ve talked to you about what I was feeling.”
“Well, maybe we both should’ve,” you mutter, wringing your hands. “I wasn’t exactly the best at it, either.”
His head tips, considering. “Can I tell you now?”
You glance over to him. “Tell me what, Miller?”
“Tell you…tell you that I love you,” he whispers.
It steals the breath from your lungs. One clean swipe.
He nods to himself, then – certain of it – and says it again. “I do, darlin’. I love you.”
Your heart begins to hammer. Tears spill over onto your cheeks, dripping from your jaw.
“And, look –” Joel takes your wrists, “– I got no right to say any of that, I know. I put you through a hell of a lot, these last few months – and that kills me. But if you’ll let me, I swear to you – I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”
You look up. His cheeks are dappled, too – glistening with tears. “Joel…” you weep.
He cups your jaw. “Listen to me. What we’ve had, the last three months – I want it all the time. I want you, and I want Duck. I want the three of us under one roof. I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”
You breathe a shuddered laugh. Your hands fall over his wrists. Keep talking, you mouth, bottom lip trembling.
“I want to get married, or not,” Joel says. “I want to show up to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party late, ‘cause Duck couldn’t pick which shoes she wanted to wear. I want to have more kids, take ‘em on vacation.”
“Wyoming?” you sniff.
“Wyoming,” he repeats. “I want…I want all of it, baby. You ‘n me. I want you ‘n me, more than anything in the world. And if I’m too late, then you can tell me. Tell me, and I swear on my life I will never mention it again.”
Your hands curve over his. His strong knuckles, worked and weathered and worn by his years. Down to his wrists – the tatty strap on his ages-old watch, the dark hair peppered along his arms.
“I love you so much, baby. So much that it drives me insane. You drive me…fuckin’ insane.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you whisper, balling your fists against his chest.
Joel laughs, nose brushing against yours. “Yeah,” he sniffs, “I figured you’d say som’ like that.”
“I love you, too,” you mumble, linking your arms around his neck. “Shit, I love you.”
“Ain’t that a thing?” he says, and his lips are on yours.
It’s been a year. A year since the first time you felt him – lips soft as velvet, sweet with alcohol and something stronger. His tongue and yours, his teeth and yours. Every part of you clashing with every part of him.
And goddamn, you’ve missed it.
Joel follows you upstairs, pinning you to the wall by your bedroom door. White heat flooding through your veins, he kneels before you and pulls you onto his tongue.
He’s hungry.
He laps at you as though you’ll be gone in the morning. As though he won’t wake up tangled in you, breathing in your scent, lips on your skin.
Dusk seeps in at the edges of your vision; daylight draining from the sky. It’s dark, too dark to see him clearly, but you feel him fucking everywhere.
His beard grazes the inside of your thigh. He kisses where he scratches your skin. He holds your hips steady, tongue dipping in and out.
“You know how fuckin’ sweet you taste?” he growls, slipping inside again.
He looks so good between your legs. Like he was made for it – made for you. All yours, in ways you never really understood until now.
He brings you to the edge with his tongue flat against your clit. Holding your hips firm against his mouth, groaning with you as you fall.
You come with a broken moan. Hips stutter to a halt, legs fall wide open. The warmth in your belly spills over and rushes to every corner of your body.
Joel moans, tongue still lapping as your cunt pulses all over him. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he slurs, watching you come undone.
He stands, a chaste kiss to your lips, and then parts them with his tongue. “Taste good?” he mumbles, kissing you gently.
Yeah, you think, moaning against him, it tastes fucking good.
He spreads you out on your mattress and kisses what feels like every square inch of your body. You giggle at the feeling of his lips behind your ear; moan when they close around your nipple.
Your back arches; little lightning bolts as he pulls the buds to a peak. Your fingers knot through his hair; hissing at the meeting of pain and pleasure between Joel’s lips.
“I love you,” you whisper, when he settles between your legs. You don’t know that you’ve felt something so true in all your life.
He smiles. Your fingers trace the lines at his eyes.
“Come here,” he says, and pulls your hips to meet his.
You curve a hand around his neck, glancing down at your open legs. “Looks a little different to the last time you saw her.”
Joel shakes his head, licking his lips. “Beautiful, baby. She looks so goddamn beautiful.”
Each movement is careful, deliberate. He notches his tip at your hole and pauses until you’re looking at him again.
And then he pushes in.
He slips an arm under your head; the other holding your thigh on his waist. He kisses you as you stretch around him. He still tastes like salt and slick.
You gasp, teeth gritting around a hiss. “Fuck,” you whimper, turning in to his chest.
“Easy, easy,” Joel coos, voice rumbling against your temple. “Catch your breath. Doin’ so good.”
“It’s not sore,” you tell him, nodding for him to move again. “It’s…it’s just…different.”
“Tighter,” he groans, eyes on your cunt as it draws his cock in.
You agree, “Tighter.”
He catches you in another kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Breathe. ‘m right here.”
It’s never felt like this before. This gentle, this tender.
You have never felt like this before. Broken open, stitched back together. Your heart split into two – whole again each time his body meets yours.
Joel catches your moans on his tongue. He steadies his pace; rocking into you over and over. Laughing against your lips; your fingers intertwined with his.
“Feel good?” he pants.
Your head rolls back. “Mhm.”
“Take it, baby. Such a tight little thing.”
“Joel,” you cry, “I’m close.”
His teeth nip at your neck. “Shit,” his hips jump, “attagirl. Just like that.” He thrusts into you harder, bleeding the color from your vision.
You pull his lips to yours, foreheads tacky. Joel’s eyes gloss over.
I love you, he breathes.
And the world whitens.
He pulls you against his chest when you come back around. Shifts up the headboard, skin all sticky and warm. He kisses your temples, kisses your shoulders, kisses your knuckles.
You melt into his grasp, turning to look up at him. You run your fingers over his lips, through his damp hair. Just staring. Drinking him all in.
“You were right next door, the entire time,” you whisper.
He runs a thumb across your cheek. “Yep.”
“Do you think we wasted too much time?”
Joel’s lip turns. “Nah,” he says. “We found our way.”
“Needed a little help, though.”
He scoffs, tongue between his teeth. “I’m sure she’ll hold it against us forever.”
You think of that evening in August. The last bow of the sun before your world changed forever. Of deals struck and promises made. Of satin on your fingertips – newspaper ink and duck egg silk.
You think of that photograph on your mantelpiece. Bright eyes watching every second of it. A smile on her face the entire time.
You laugh to yourself. Joel looks down and kisses your swollen cheek.
“We should go,” he taps your thigh, “got a little duck who’ll be wonderin’ where her mama and daddy are.”
The church tower rings out twice as the truck purrs between graves.
Joel pulls up under the shade of a sycamore, tires rolling to a halt. Sarah kicks her feet, her heels thudding against her car seat.
“Mama,” she presses a sticky finger to the back window, “flowers.”
“Yeah, baby,” you call over your shoulder, hugging your own graveside gift a little tighter in your arms. “Lots of ‘em, huh?”
“Yeah,” your daughter quietly considers, then kicks her seat again.
Joel waits patiently for you to give him the go ahead. He slips a hand around your knee, looking ahead at the rows of headstones. So patient, so gentle.
Your chest swells, a deep breath filling your lungs, and you nod. “Alright.”
“Sure?” he asks. “Take as long as you want, darlin’.”
But if you wait any longer, you’ll never leave. The paper wrap crinkles in your arms. “You take Duck,” you reply, “I’ll take…”
Joel lifts your hand, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles. “You got it. We’ll walk on.”
He leaves you in the truck to collect yourself. He unbuckles Sarah and sets her loose, following her across the grass with his hands in his pockets.
Her light-up sneakers flash as she sprints; head tossed back, toothless smile pointed to the sun. She turns back to her dad, her little hand fitting perfectly into his.
Made for each other.
You hook your fingers around the handle and leave the truck.
Their grave is a short walk down a grassy slope, sheltered by another towering tree. Its leaves flutter down around you as you near the stone; stray petals which catch in the breeze and lead the way.
You kneel down, the grass dry and prickly through your jeans. “Hi, Mom,” you whisper, sweeping some dust from the base of the grave. “Hi, Dad.”
Your grandma picked this spot. She’s long gone – laid to rest elsewhere with a grandfather you never met – so you try to visit as often as you can. Freshen the flowers, brighten up the stone.
It fucking sucks, but someone’s gotta do it.
You peel the brown paper from the bouquet, exposing the soft colors Sarah picked back in the florist. They fit perfectly on the stone, right beneath the words Devoted parents.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a feeling that wraps itself around your throat and steals any other words – until a flash of pink catches your attention.
“Duckie,” Joel calls, following her between graves. “Hey. This is a cem…Hey, Duck, listen – this is a cemetery, we gotta be – Sarah!”
You stifle a laugh, watching him jog after the hoodie tied around her waist. He swipes for her hand and she dodges him, ducking between graves faster than his mid-fifties joints can turn him.
There’s no one else here – it’s only you. And it’s a quiet enough place as it is, so – you let her laugh. Let him chase her, and let her sneakers light the place in pink. What else is there to do?
“Sorry it’s been a little while,” you tell your parents, eyes still on your man.
He’s kneeling now, Sarah on his thigh, in front of a tall, cross-shaped stone. They’re pointing at the words on the stone, her inquisitive eyes studying each one.
“I know I said I’d come visit for Dad’s birthday, but I guess things got busy – what with the move and all. We’re still living out of boxes. But the girls’ rooms are almost done – we just gotta paint ‘em.”
You look back down to the stone. Your mom’s name carved deep into spotted marble, your dad’s underneath. One awful date to tie them both together.
Dad probably heard Duck’s first squeal and turned away; gone back to whatever boring activity he might get up to in the afterlife. But your mom, you know for certain, is sat with her chin on the heel of her palm. Watching her mini-me trace the shapes of words, squirming when Joel presses his lips to her temple and whispers hints to her.
She’s probably smiling, making some comment about how big Sarah’s getting. How smart she is, how funny. How she must keep you and Joel on your toes – and goddamn, she’s right.
“Joel’s been working on the kitchen,” you continue. “I left my phone in the truck, but you should see it, Mom. He got these marble countertops, these little brushed-gold handles. He wrote our names on the wall before he tiled it, so whoever remodels after we’re gone will find that. The four of us.”
“M-meh-mem-orr-mem-or-ree?” Sarah tilts her head.
Joel nods. “Memory, yeah. Good job, Duck.”
“Duckie’s good,” you tell your mom. “She’s top of her class in – well, everything. Really wiping the floor with all the other first-graders. She’d have been your favorite – I know that much. And you’d have been hers.
“She’s gonna be some kind of lawyer, we think. Social justice and all that. She likes to be a woman of the people. Always talkin’ back to Joel – she hardly cuts him any slack, these days,” you laugh.
“He’s good, too – Joel. Working hard, as usual. Tommy and Maria visited last week – they brought Buckley, and now Duck won’t stop goin’ on about us getting a dog.”
You chance a glance over the stone, making sure the pair are out of earshot when you add, “Don’t tell her, but we called the pound last night. We’re heading there tomorrow while she’s at school to pick one out for her birthday. Joel’s giddier than I think Sarah’s gonna be.”
Joel’s carrying Duck now, wandering down a wobbly row of graves.
She halts him by pointing to one. “N-eh-v-eh-never…fff-or-g-for–”
He stares at her, a grin breaking across his lips. “Sound it out, that’s it. ‘s a big word, baby girl. You got it.”
The world seems to blur around them. The birds sing, a light melody from overhead. The green trees sway across the blue of the sky; the straight soar of cars on the highway. It all fades into the background, behind the two of them – wandering from shade into brilliant sun.
Your family. Your man, your blood – and everything in between. The little girl who brought it all together in the end – leading her dad by hand over knolls and broken stone, chasing butterflies, and asking what eh-teh-err-nal means.
“Means forever,” Joel says, kneeling beside her. “’s how long I’m gonna love you for.”
“And Nel?”
“And Nel.”
“And Mama?”
“And Mama.”
Sarah runs her hands through his beard, swaying side to side. “But me the most,” she concludes, nodding.
Joel hms, biting back a laugh. He lifts his chin, asks the little girl whether or not he’s going gray.
She has the same ridiculous laugh you do. The same snort you used to find so embarrassing, until you heard it come from her.
Just watching them stokes the already burning fire in your ribcage – the warmth flooding around your heart. He’s so good at it – being a dad.
Was he ever anything else, before he was a father? You can’t remember a time you didn’t wake up next to him, wrapped up in his arms, or with one of his kids burrowed between your bodies. It all feels so long ago, now.
He wanted to do everything. He’d lie with you between his legs, holding your half-sleeping form upright while you fed her. He’d race home after work specially to bathe her. He picked up any and every single duck-themed thing that he came across.
And what were you? Mom felt like such a fucking longshot. So out of your reach that you couldn’t understand the meaning of the word.
But there are days when she says it – Sarah, looking up at you with Joel’s twinkling eyes and a smirk which matches yours – and it’s like you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear it. Like you’ve been waiting your whole life for her.
Well. Her, and her little sister.
“And, uh – another thing,” you say, reaching for the plastic handle of a car seat. “I brought somebody for you to meet.”
A clumsy fist shoots up to shake a speckled dinosaur toy – the brown spheres of its eyes catching the sunlight. She squeals with delight when you unbuckle her, kicks her legs the same way her sister always did.
“She’s a little nervous, ain’t you, Nel?” you whisper, laughing at her gummy smile and tiny, socked feet. “She spit up on herself on the way here, but – I think you’re gonna love her.”
You perch the baby on your thigh, same as Joel did with Sarah, and she wraps her fingers around one of yours. You wiggle it – waving to your mom’s name, to the petals gently fluttering in the breeze.
“Mom,” you sniff, “this is Ellie.”
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#the last of us#tlou#macfrog#neighbor!joel miller#babydaddy!joel miller#tw pregnancy
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Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.
dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍
jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.
avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."
"hi, daddy!"
he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.
"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."
she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.
"hey, daddy?"
"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.
"what colours do boys like best?"
he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"
"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"
"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."
an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."
the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.
"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."
jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.
"what're you smilin' about?"
"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."
he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."
˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.
"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.
"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"
"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."
neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.
kyle? who the fuck was kyle?
"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"
"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."
this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.
"what?!"
something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.
"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"
"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.
just like her daddy.
"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"
"j—" you interject.
"nah. nope. no way."
"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.
deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."
"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."
you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."
he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.
"that's different. i was a nice boy."
you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."
she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.
jj thinks he's having a stroke.
"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"
avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.
"don't be mad, daddy."
"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"
"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."
and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.
"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.
your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."
"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."
you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"
his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"
"oh, i think i am."
concepts ; concepts (ii)
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