#you really DO have to be delusional to see more to it than that... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lillaydee · 2 days ago

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Delusions

Joel Miller (AU) / Reader (Narration by Unhinged, Delusional OFC)

When jealousy makes one see you through distorted, circus-mirrored glasses.

Word Count: 13,293

WARNINGS:Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Joel is in love, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Sexual Assault (On a Male Character), Drink Spiking, Delusions, Completely Unhinged (But Dumb as a Doornail) OFC, Descriptions of Bloody Attack, Mental Illness.

***

Nell had never understood the appeal of you. What did you have that she didn’t? She was so much prettier than you. Everyone said so. You didn’t even wear make up for God’s sake, and you bought clothes at discount shops. And yet people seemed drawn to you.

She loved you. She really did. You were her best friend. You had been since infancy. Your mom worked for her family. She was their housemaid. Your mom and her mom, Susan, got pregnant at around the same time. Your father was a long-haul truck driver, so he wasn’t home as often, and when she was born, her family hired a live-in nanny to help with her. Your mom had been looking for day care options for you when Susan suggested she just bring you over and the nanny could look after you both when she worked.

Her family loved you. They doted on you. When the time came for you to go to school, they offered to pay for you to get private education, same as her, so that way, the two of you wouldn’t be separated. You mom politely declined; your parents didn’t want you to be spoiled like that. They wanted you to grow up knowing where you came from, to understand the value of hard work and money. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that your family had no money. So, the two of you were separated during the school terms but spent a lot of time together during the holidays, when your mom would bring you to work with her.

You two remained close. Best friends. But Nell couldn’t help but notice that you had more friends than she did. Even her own friends from her private school ended up being more your friends than hers, and yet, your friends didn’t seem to like her so much. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that they were simple, mind-numbingly boring people. You kept getting invites to birthday parties and sleepovers, when she could only get parties and sleepovers at her place, and that too, normally ended up with her friends crowding around you, spending time and talking with you than her. They all invited you to their parties and sleepovers, but not her. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that their houses were not as well equipped as hers. She was just pointing out facts.

When the two of you turned sixteen, her parents got her a Mercedes. They wanted to get you one too, but you declined. Instead, you used your own money to buy a second-hand Mini Cooper that made so many creaks and groans when driven, you called it Creaky. Her parents reimbursed you for the money as a present instead.

Despite her having the nice car, you still had more friends cramped in your Creaky than she ever had in her Mercedes. Creaky was always full. She saw you and your friends (most of which were her friends before they were yours) laughing as it puttered along, filled tighter than a sardine can, driving down the street, off somewhere where she wasn’t invited, again. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that she had so many demands for her passengers. Did you know how much it cost to detail a car?

You made time for her, though. She would tell you her problems, and you would console her, gave her advice, and made her feel better. She really loved you. She didn’t know what she would do without you in her life.

She made it to an Ivy League university, her parents being large donors to a couple of them. You received a partial scholarship to the same university, and her parents offered to pay for the rest of your college fees, but you declined. You didn’t even want to go. You opted for the local community college, wanting to live at home and be close to your parents.

Nell, being the beautiful young woman that she was, had no problems getting the young men to fall for her. But for some reason, the young men never stuck. They would sleep with her, and more often than not, ghosted her. The few that stuck around seemed more interested in having her take them to fancy restaurants and buy them things than commit to her. And these guys didn’t like that she was sleeping with more than one guy, surprisingly. They often left her. Not her fault that she was so beautiful she needed to have more than one guy. She was just being fair.

You, on the other hand, were more reserved, and preferred to stay home and not party. You had one boyfriend throughout high school. But when his family moved across the country, the two of you broke up. And by the time you were in college, you were so content with focusing on your studies you didn’t get involved with anyone.

Every time Nell introduced you to one of her guys, they would end up asking about you often. Even when she was out clubbing, the guys she flirted with would recognize her from being your friend, and asked if they could get your number. Nell didn’t understand. You wouldn’t even sleep with anyone unless you were in love with them. And you didn’t have money. Your dates consisted of movies and tacos at the truck. And yet, all these guys were clamouring for you. You didn’t even wear sexy clothes. You stuck to your ponytail and jeans and shirts. You didn’t even get your boobs done. You didn’t even get lip injections. She couldn’t fathom it. What was your appeal?

But it’s okay. She was the one who was out there. She was the one who were getting dates every night. Not you. So, that’s something, right? But even with all the men she had slept with, there was one man she wanted so badly, but could never seem to get.

Joel Miller.

He was hot. So hot. Him and his brother Tommy did construction. They worked for their father. Nell had heard rumours about Joel. She could see it, in fact. The guys he used to share a locker room with were talking about it openly. They called him Hung Miller to distinguish between him and his brother. His ex-girlfriend was too shy and ladylike to talk about it. Nell set her eyes on him, going after him every chance she got. But he never gave her the time of day. She sampled Tommy once at the bar. He was big. But apparently Joel was bigger. And she wanted to sample Joel - badly. But he didn’t talk much. Never went to the bars as much as Tommy did. And when she tried to talk him up, he always made excuses and left.

Nell gave up in the end. She went to college and found herself a Law major who had money just like her, Tony. He got her. They have the same background. So, she decided, for now, she would stick with Tony. They went steady, and for once in her life, Nell found herself falling in love, and didn’t cheat on him at all.

When she told you about Tony, you were really excited for her. Finally, you had said, someone tamed Wild Nellie. She had giggled with you over FaceTime about it. She couldn’t wait for you to meet him, she said. How she wished you would find someone too. She wanted you to be happy. Like her. You replied with your standard you’re too busy with school to date. Nell rolled her eyes – you could graduate with your eyes closed. You were so smart.

When she finally introduced Tony to you, the two of you got along swimmingly. Nell was so happy. She was so in love with him. Tony would join the two of your when you FaceTime each other and made joking remarks at you. You only met him once, but you could tell he was a good guy. You were happy your friend found someone like him. Maybe her wild days are over.

Susan got sick that year. She was in a car accident and suffered a stroke during recovery. Nell was too busy in college to go home and help, so you did. You came by every day to help Susan out, even though her husband had hired help to help her with her recovery. You read to her, did crochets with her to help her hands get their dexterity back, swam with her, cooked with her, and called Nell every day so she could say hi to Susan. It wasn’t Nell’s fault you always called when she was busy doing college things.

When Tony found out about her mother, he wanted to visit, but she didn’t want to. She was having fun where she was. There were people around to take care of her mother. She wasn’t needed. And Tony made a remark where she should be more like you. Caring, kind, considerate, empathetic. That stung her. It was clear to her that even he thought you were better than her. Just like her parents, her friends, her exes. But she loved him, so she let it go.

When she went home for the summer, she discovered that her parents had hired someone to make their house more wheelchair friendly. Not just anyone, in fact, but the Miller brothers. She took this opportunity to try her luck with Joel again, just to feed her ego. But again, he rebuffed her. Seemingly uninterested in her at all. Which couldn’t be possible. Had he seen her? She was hot. How could he not want her? She divided her time spent during that summer trying to get his attention and watching you take care of her mother. She would wear the skimpiest bikini and lounged around the house in them, and Joel didn’t even look her way. She rubbed herself on him all the time, accidentally, of course, and he just moved out of the way. At one point, she even accidentally on purpose dropped her towel on him while he was working on the bathroom ramp, revealing her perfect, naked body. Still, he didn’t bat an eye at her.

And then one day she saw him looking at you longingly. You were crocheting with her mother, telling her a story, laughing merrily. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. She started noticing Joel would find reasons to work within your vicinity and tried to talk to you. Whenever you talked to him back, Joel would stand all awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly, looking flustered that you would give him the time of day.

And finally, on the last day of construction, just before he left, she saw him kiss you.

Nell slept with Tommy that night, just to get her frustrations out of the way. She told him how she couldn’t understand why Joel would choose you, and not her. Tommy told her that Joel had always had a thing for you. Since high school. But you and him both were in relationships, so he didn’t do anything about it.

Again, Nell didn’t get it. Why you?

That night, the night before she went back to college, she and Tommy fell asleep in her bed. Tony FaceTimed her, and she absentmindedly picked up. He saw that she was naked in bed with someone. And broke up with her on the spot.

Nell was broken hearted. She flew back the next day and begged him to give her another chance. He ignored her. She blamed you kissing Joel for her indiscretion. She obviously wouldn’t have slept with Tommy if she hadn’t seen you do that.

She went through the rest of her college years sleeping around and drinking her troubles away, especially since you told her you and Joel were officially dating now. You were so happy with him. She drank and slept around some more to cope with that. She failed her final year, having partied too much. It’s your fault, of course. Why couldn’t you just keep your happiness with the one man she wanted to yourself? Just before she left, she said goodbye to Tony. He had moved on, another Law major, who looked just about as boring as you were. He traded down, she thought. He politely said goodbye to her and told her he’s glad her mother was doing better. She wondered how he knew – and he told her he had called you from time to time to ask about Susan.

Oh.

When Nell got back in town, she received such a scolding and lecture from her father she couldn’t think straight. She drove to your house to vent, only to be told that you had moved out. She went to the new address and Joel answered the door.

You had moved in with Joel Miller, just last week. And the night before, he had asked you to marry him, and you had said yes, you told her excitedly.

You were sharing good news with her. But all Nell saw was red.

Why you? Why not her? What was so special about you that everyone, her own parents included, preferred you? Why did you get to be happy? Why not her?

Nell hugged you upon hearing the news. She looked at Joel, faux happiness on her face. He looked good. Mouth wateringly good.

She decided right there and then.

You had taken everyone from her.

She was going to take Joel Miller from you if it was the last thing she did.

***

Nell could see the challenges that she was going to face. Joel didn’t want to be alone with her at all. He went into the kitchen with you when you went to get drinks. When you went to the next room to answer a phone call, he went with you. You went to the bathroom; he went outside for a smoke – he must have some hideaway because Nell tried to follow but he was nowhere to be seen. When you decided to cook lunch, he helped you, never leaving your side. And you didn’t do the classic ‘no you should stay with Nell, entertain her’ thing her mother did to her father either.

God, what a clingy couple.

It didn’t help that Joel couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you either. A hand on your back, on your thigh, around your shoulder, and you were equally bad – letting him do that with her right there. How shameless.

She needed a game plan.

So, she tried the simplest thing first. Could she perhaps stay the night? She didn’t want to go home and face her father just yet. You looked at Joel, and he shrugged, telling you it was up to you. She’s your friend.

Oh, so now he’s not even friends with her?

After dinner, you put on a movie. You gave her your sleep sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in. You cuddled up to Joel to watch the movie, Nell on his other side. She surreptitiously made her way closer to him as the movie progressed, but just as she was about to get near enough to feel the beginnings of his body heat, he got up and went to the kitchen for a drink. When he came back, he sat on your other side, putting her plan to accidentally fall asleep on him to bed.

When you started to fall asleep, Joel lifted you up and brought you into the bedroom. Nell’s heart jumped. Finally. A chance to be alone. But Joel placed you on the bed, came back and shut the door. Not even a good night her way.

She woke up early the next morning to sounds of soft moans and grunts from your bedroom. She could hear him shushing you, his low sexy voice talking to you, but she couldn’t hear what he said exactly. Who would have sex when a guest was in the next room? She knew you. You didn’t even like sex that much. You’d only slept with what, three men? You were a prude. Inexperienced. Unlike her. You would never have sex with her in the next room. It was all so out of character for you. And you could never satisfy him in bed the way she could. There was no way Joel would want you like this, though. Nell didn’t get it. Why would he find you desirable and not her? I mean, you never got your hair done. You used the 2-in-1 shampoo for God’s sake. And your nails? You clipped them down, never even got a manicure. You didn’t even bother to look good. And here she was, someone who had spent so much money to look the way she did, and he wanted you?

Seriously. It boggles the mind. The good news was, Joel Miller was just a man. So, with your lack of interest in beauty care, surely he will see what he was missing if it was shoved in his face enough, right?

So when you came out looking freshly fucked, wearing only a shirt she assumed was his, she made sure to pretend she was still asleep. When she joined you in the kitchen, she was only wearing the shirt you loaned her. Let him have a peek at what he would be enjoying soon. But it seemed like Joel didn’t even notice her. He acted as if you were the only other person in the room. She needed more time, and more tactics. Show him what she could offer that you couldn’t.

She announced that she wanted to celebrate the happy couple. Dinner tonight? At the most expensive restaurant in town. Please? You told her that you and Joel were not that kind of people. The two of you prefer to keep it simple. Nell waved her hands off at you, telling you that a special celebration was in order. Come on, please?

You finally said okay.

So, at dinner that night, Nell flexed her flirting skills with Joel. She ordered the most expensive everything. Champagne, caviar, courses and courses of the most decadent and pricey stuff she knew you could never afford to lavish him with. She bought the two of you presents, a diamond bracelet for you, and a Rolex for Joel. She needed him to understand how serious she was about wanting him, how she could give you more than you could ever imagine. He didn’t really react to the watch the way she expected him to. Just looked at it, closed the box and pushed it towards you. And you, as always, declined the gifts, saying that she didn’t have to do this. Nell insisted, saying that you would never buy stuff like this anyway, so she would do it for you. She wore the two of you down and received a quiet thank you with a polite smile from both of you.

She had planted her first seed. You could never afford to buy him gifts like this.

When the meals arrived, Joel, again, was not reacting the way she wanted him to. He only talked to you in low voices, as if Nell wasn’t even there, unenthusiastically eating the food without any comments. And you, as usual, just looked uncomfortable with all the food and the many cutleries on the table. The two of you didn’t even finish your caviar. She tried to get the two of you to talk about the wedding, but you said it was too early to plan. And a lightbulb turned on in her head.

She will pay for the wedding. She will plan it! It’s genius. She will have access to Joel, and you will be none the wiser!

She held your hand, eyes brimming with fake happy tears, telling you that you deserve everything good, that you had always made her happy, and to let her do this for you. But again, you said no. It’s alright Nellie, we will take care of everything ourselves. No need to go out of your way for us. You patted her hand with yours, and that was when Nell saw your engagement ring for the first time. She had assumed he didn’t get you one, but apparently he did.

It was nothing to shout about. The diamond was small. It didn’t even look new. You told her that it was his mother’s ring. Nell cringed internally at that – what a cheapskate. He didn’t even buy her a new ring?

Something swelled in her heart. A realisation.

He didn’t really love you. He would spend money on a new one if he did. And he didn’t bother. Instead, he slapped on his late mother’s ratty, cheap old ring on you.

So, she made a comment on what a great idea that was, saved so much money, huh Joel? You smiled politely and told her that it was the thought that counted, his mother’s ring held a high value in your eyes, that he thought you special enough to give you something that was hers – the woman who gave birth to him, someone he loved very much.

Sure, Nell thought, whatever.

But she was convinced she had planted the second seed. He wasn’t willing to spend money on you. Surely that would plant some doubt in your head.

When leaving the restaurant, Nell asked if the two of you would like to go to a bar, but the two of you declined. She asked where you were going, maybe she could join you? But Joel quickly answered that the two of you wanted to spend the rest of the night alone. Again, very politely. She was starting to lose her patience. What’s with all the politeness? And couldn’t he just let go of your hand? Shove the fact that he wanted you and not her in her face, Joel Miller. Stupid man. Blind man.

But such a sexy man. A sexy man she wanted to try. She needed to. He was the only man who had ever rejected her. And he was brought down to his knees by you. You. Of all people. The one who only had nice things out of her parents generosity, the one who wore her handouts. The one who wore a brandless pump and home-sewn summer dress to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

She needed him to see that he was settling with you. She could tell that deep down, he was not that into you. How could he be? When he wouldn’t even spend money on you when it came to what was supposed to be the symbol of his love. He could have so much more with her. Even looking at him now, in his generic brand dress shirt and jeans, she could tell that you never bothered to shower him with gifts. What respectable woman would let a man as fine as Joel Miller wear generic brands? God, you were so stupid.

As she was driving out, she saw you pressed up against the door of his truck, him kissing you passionately. She wanted him to do that with her. God! It’s so infuriating! She drove around aimlessly for a while, before deciding to head to a club. And she saw the two of you again. At your favourite Taco Truck, shoving tacos into your mouths and laughing with each other, Joel looking so happy and content she wanted to scream. She spent thousands for dinner, and didn’t get so much as a smile from him – both of you looking so uncomfortable and out of place in the restaurant, and now you’re eating tacos and elated about it? Ugh!

Maybe he’s too much of a low life for her. Who preferred cheap dollar tacos to caviar? Maybe she should give up this quest to fuck Hung Miller and let the low-class man marry the low-class you.

But no. You had always taken everything that was hers. She was going to take what was yours. For once. See if you liked it. You should know what it felt like to have people that was yours taken away from you, and how much it hurt to see them happier with her than with you.

The next day, Nell went shopping. She spared no expense, buying Joel all the branded clothes she could get her hands on. She stopped by your place and saw that Joel’s truck was there, but your Creaky was not. She almost jumped with joy when she went knocking. Joel opened the door, but the smile on his face turned off when he realized it was her. He straight up told her that you were not home. Nell tried very hard not to take his obvious lack of enthusiasm to see her to heart, but she was starting to feel like he didn’t want to see her, which was impossible, of course.

She told him that she had presents for him. Without opening the door further he asked her why? She tried to push the door open, but he wouldn’t let her. So, she pressed up to the door as close as she could and told him a fine man such as himself deserve better than generic brands. He was engaged to her best friend now, and this was her way to try and be his friend. He told her there was absolutely no reason she should be his friend too. They didn’t even know each other. She told him they could get to know each other, her eyes basically fucking him up and down. He was about to tell her to come back when you were home when Creaky’s classic sounds came around the corner.

Nell took a disappointed step back, and Joel rushed out to greet you. She saw him talk to you quietly for a bit, and you asked her what she was doing there. She showed you the bags she had with her, presents for Joel, she said. You smiled politely and told her she didn’t have to do all that. She waved it off and said anything for her best friend’s new fiancé. When she drove off, she noticed that the bags were still outside, you and Joel discussing something, you obviously not looking too happy. She smiled smugly to herself. She would’ve gone mental if she had found a beautiful, rich woman such as herself at her door with such a handsome fiancé, and had gone shopping for him, at that.

She had planted another seed. You must have been jealous to find her there with all those expensive clothes for him. All she had to do was keep planting them. And her efforts will grow and be fruitful.

That night, she went clubbing again. Her parents had been at her ears all day about getting a job. She wasn’t interested. It wasn’t like she needed the money. So, she danced the night away, looking for someone to be a distraction for the night, until she could get her hands on Joel Miller. But no one was biting. In fact, men avoided her like the plague. She couldn’t understand it. And then, from afar, she saw Tommy. Perfect.

As she got nearer, she noticed something. He was wearing the clothes she had bought for Joel. And his Rolex. The very same one she had bought for Joel. She commented on them, and he just told her that Joel gave them to him, Joel was never comfortable with expensive stuff.

What? Of all the nerve!

He pulled her outside. She tried to kiss him, but he kept her at arm’s length. Told her that she had to stop. Stop what? Tommy knew she was after Joel. Not only had she openly complained about Joel choosing you instead of her to him at the beginning, but she had also openly tried to get his attention from the start. Everyone knew she was after Joel. Everyone could see, even you, Tommy said. She made it so obvious when they were working at her house. And now, she was making it even more so damn obvious. She had done to Joel what she had always done to the men she was after, which was throw money at them. Joel will never fall for that. He had never been impressed by money. He told her that Joel was in love with you. He wanted you, and not her. Please leave him alone. He’s marrying you. He’s happy.

He hasn’t married you yet, she told him, and left.

Her frustrations were burdensome that night. She didn’t get to bring anyone home; no one wanted to entertain her. She got rejected by Tommy, of all people. Joel had rejected her gifts to him. Tommy had the audacity to suggest that Joel would never want her.

And she also found out you knew. You knew all along she had her sights on Joel back then, and still you went after him. Seduced him. Dated him. Moved in with him. Agreed to marry him. And now, she realized, it must have been you that morning she spent the night at your place - you had the gall to initiate sex with him, knowing she was right in the next room. Show off much? She knew there was no way he could initiate sex with someone like you. She just knew it.

She could not let you get away with this. She could not let you marry Joel and trap him like this. You didn’t love him, you just wanted him because she had her sights on him first. Just like you wanted her friends. And her parents. And Tony. Why else would they all prefer you to her. The only explanation was that you had manipulated them somehow, just like you were doing to Joel. She had to put a stop to this before it’s too late.

She needed to talk to you. She needed to pretend she was still on your side, she had to befriend Joel somehow and warn him. She knew if she could just get him to see her properly, he would fall for her and leave you. She spent the next week trying to reach you. You were not at home. Neither was Joel. Her calls went unanswered, and messages unsent, but you hadn’t blocked her.

Where were you?

Finally after 10 days you returned her calls. You were on your honeymoon and didn’t have cell service.

What?

You and Joel eloped.

Joel was married.

To you, of all people.

And you didn’t even have the courtesy to invite her.

Obviously her usual tactics were not working.

As she hugged you with a fake congratulations, she made a new vow.

She needed to up her game.

***

WARNING: Light descriptions of Sexual Assault (On a Male Character)

Implied Drink Spiking

Some possibly inaccurate description of being drugged

Some descriptions of smut via voyeurism

You had a small gathering at a restaurant in town for your wedding and invited everyone. Everyone was so happy for you and Joel. You two had asked that in lieu of presents; everyone should donate something to the local children’s hospital where you worked. Nell had scoffed at this news. Just your MO. Saint Aria. You just had to be the one to do good. But she had to remember her end goal. She had to save Joel from you. So she smiled and clapped, along with everyone else, who had collectively decided to not engage her for long.

Every time she caught Joel alone and tried to engage him, someone conveniently needed him elsewhere, and he willingly followed. God. This guy was like a cow on a leash. No wonder it was so easy for you to trap him.

She tried to blend in, tried to catch up with the girls, as they say. But none of them wanted to linger with her. And none introduced their significant others to her. She tried to not let the fact that she was never invited to any of their weddings bother her, but it did. You were invited. You were bridesmaid, or maid of honour to quite a few of them. And she was cast out. She should’ve gotten used to it, all her friends gravitate towards you after she introduced you to them, but it still hurt. And now you had pulled the ultimate betrayal. Stealing Joel Miller from right under her. But patience, Nell. Patience. She had to play it cool, so that ultimately, people will see you for who you really were.

Her parents gave you a cheque for the hospital, and then another, just for the bride and groom. Despite the usual push and pull, they were insistent that you two accepted it, to start your life with, please, they said. Her father hugged Joel, asking him to take care of you, telling him that you were family, and now, so was he. He even danced with you after you had your father-daughter dance with your dad, your dad proudly declaring him your second father. You and Joel shared a dance, Joel holding you close, kissing you sweetly throughout.

Mr Miller got all choked up during his speech, talking about how much he and his wife loved you, and how his late first wife would have loved you, and that no one deserved that engagement ring of hers more than you. And if you already had two father figures, he would gladly accept being the third, and that he already loved you as the daughter he never had.

Susan talked about what a sweet one you were. Ever since you were a baby. Always giving in to Nell, never wanting a fight, never in a strop – the gentlest person, the best person they all knew, a fact which was greeted with a lot of cheers and murmured agreements from everyone. Your friends gushed about you. Joel’s friends and Tommy talked about how dreamy he got when he was crushing hard on you. How happy they all were that both of you had found each other. How perfect you were for each other.

After hearing the speeches, Nell couldn’t stand it anymore. She went outside under the guise of a smoke. Tommy was there, already halfway through his own cigarette. She complained out loud about you. Why did everyone love you so much? She had the advantage on you in every way that counted. She was better than you. Much better looking, so much richer, so much more experienced in bed, as he could testify, she’s sure. She could offer everyone more than you could. And yet people were gagging for your attention and left her out like the leper. People were so stupid. So fucking stupid.

Tommy exhaled his last puff after listening to her rants, telling her that maybe she should grow up, join the real world, look at herself and think about what really mattered to people when it came to choosing friends, found family and loved ones. And then he walked back inside, leaving her there, still stewing.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What else mattered? Stupid man. He was just bitter she was lusting after his brother instead of him. Never mind. What could she expect from a low-class man-whore like Tommy Miller?

About a week after the reception, she decided to get back into action. She had contacted a man she knew who could get her things for the right price. She went over to your place, under the guise of bringing you a wedding present, waving your concerns away with her hand as usual. Joel had gone out running, and you were mixing something in a blender, making him a protein shake for when he came back. When Joel got home, Nell excused herself.

She watched your household for several weekends, learning your routines, your ins and outs, your movements. She was discrete, making sure you couldn’t see her. She needed to be careful. She had kept up the façade of staying away from the two of you, but staying friendly and calling you as she normally did. She couldn’t afford to have you suspicious.

One Saturday, your house was a little too quiet – Joel didn’t go running that morning. She got curious and went closer to see what was going on, prepared to pretend like she had just dropped by to give you something if need be. She went snooping at the windows, and finally, when she got to the kitchen windows, she saw what was delaying his run.

You were bent over behind the kitchen island, your shirt lifted up, Joel bent over you, his sweatpants lowered to his knees, his hands on your breasts, fucking you with such fervour you were reduced to a moaning mess. He was holding you close to him, his head next to yours, telling you that you made him feel so good, that he couldn’t get enough of you, that you were the sexiest woman in the world to him, that he needed you so much, loved you so much, that he wanted to put his baby in you, his hand snaking in between your legs and you shuddered and shook so wildly, screaming his name, as he made you cum. She watched as he finished inside you, collapsing on you, before pulling you to the floor where she could no longer see you both, but she could hear you two laughing and giggling and kissing, legs entangled on the kitchen floor.

Nell couldn’t believe her eyes. How could you do that to her? How could he? She was the one who had always made the effort to get him, and there he was, fucking your brains out. Just you wait, Joel Miller, she thought, as she made her way back to her car, her heart thumping with resolve.

The next day, she waited until Joel had gone out running. She had to be precise, she had timed everything. About five minutes before he was due back, she ran to your door, screaming your name, telling you that your mom had been in an accident, but no one could reach you. You immediately panicked, grabbed your purse and left, leaving the key under the pot for Joel. He never took his keys with him when he went running. She told you she would meet you at the hospital, and pretended to get into her car, as you peeled off the drive.

She went inside with the key you left, set things up, and waited on the couch.

Joel came back shortly, walking in through the slightly opened door, calling your name, placing his phone on the mantel. He froze when he saw her, before asking her where you were. She told him you had to run out to the store really quickly, you should be back any minute. He nodded, and seeing she was just sitting there scrolling through her phone, went into the kitchen. He took the shake you had prepared and drank it thirstily in several gulps. She heard his phone vibrate; saw that it was you calling him and hid it under the cushions. He came back into the living room and told her she should go. The two of you had plans. He should probably get ready.

Nell stalled, asking him where the two of you were going, could she come along? Joel quickly said no. He made a start to walk to the front door to open it for her when he stumbled. Joel couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt weird. His eyesight got all loopy, he felt drunk, his body felt heavy, his head disorientated. Nell got up and helped him stand, he tried to push her off, but she shushed him gently, and helped him to the couch. It took a few minutes for him to still – he kept trying to stand and get away from her, but after a few minutes his breathing relaxed and he laid still on the couch, both feet splayed on the floor, his head on the backrest, his hands limp by his sides, his eyes fighting to stay open.

Nell got to work. You would be back soon, and she needed to set the scene. She took his pants off and was immediately rewarded by what she had always wanted to confirm. Hung Miller was indeed, hung. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him, even flaccid. She sat between his splayed legs and put her mouth on him. He weakly tried to push her off, but she pinned his hands to the side, cooing at him to stop fighting it. You know you want this, Joel. I know you want me. I’m going to save you from her, Joel. It’s not right. This monster cock right here shouldn’t belong to a prude like her. He kept trying to push her off, fighting the drunken feeling in his head. She continued sucking him, it took a while before he even responded, thickening slightly under her assault. There you go, she crooned at him. Just as she was about to take him in her mouth again, the door fully opened.

You were standing right there, taking in what you came home to, after successfully reaching your mom through a phone call.

You calmly told her to get off your husband and get out of your house. She stammered excuses after excuses, telling you that they hadn’t meant for you to find out like this, that she was sorry, but they were in love, and she just wanted you to be happy, so she let you have him. Please Aria, forgive me, she said through tears. Please don’t leave him. He loves you, please Aria. You asked her how long? She told you it had been going on since she came back to town, at his office while you were at work. No one else knew, she swore. Again, you calmly told her to get out, you never wanted to see her again. She nodded weakly, and left, a satisfied smile on her face.

You looked at your husband, and immediately sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t responding to you the way a husband caught with his pants down would. You slapped his face to get him to focus on you, but it didn’t work. You tried to pull him up, but he was much heavier than you, and he fell back limply onto the couch. Your wrath turned into worry in an instant.

You called 911 immediately.

***

Nell waited for the fallout. Hours, days, weeks, and then a couple months went by, but none came. She hadn’t heard anything about you and Joel divorcing. She called a few people under the pretence of catching up, but no one entertained her. Everyone claimed to be busy and had no time to catch up. Some straight up declined her calls. But she saw a bunch of them hanging out at the usual spot, and then she noticed you. You and Joel were there - his arm happily around your shoulder, the two of you merrily laughing and chatting with your friends as if nothing happened.

You two were still together? How was that possible? Why didn’t it work? What else would it take? You literally came back to her giving your husband a blowjob, and you didn’t leave him? Didn’t you have any dignity at all?

She asked her parents if they had heard anything about you and Joel, and they said no. She tried calling Tommy, but he never picked up. Your mom didn’t pick up either. She was starting to feel left out. She had to find out.

She went to the usual club to find Tommy. He was there, this time with a woman, looking all cosy and intimate. He didn’t introduce her to Nell, and when Nell introduced herself, the woman looked away and busied herself with her phone. Tommy told her he didn’t have time for her tonight, he’s with someone. Nell asked anyway, if everything was fine with you and Joel as she had ‘heard some rumours’. Tommy took the lady by the hand and left. Nell went after him, asking him questions incessantly, but he ignored her.

She chased him and the woman all the way to his car before he aggressively walked towards her and warned her to leave him and his family the fuck alone. That he was done talking to her.

She got desperate. She went over to your house the next day. She waited until Joel came back from his run. When he saw her, he warned her to stay the fuck away from him and his wife. Nell tried to tell him that she was only doing that for their benefit, that they were meant to be together, it’s not too late. When you came out, she told you that she was in love with Joel, and he with her. You should take the high road and leave, let them be happy. Joel stood in front of you and raised his voice at her.

“Leave us alone. I am not kidding Nell. I don’t have any feelings for you. You and I are not together. We have never been together. And we will never be together. You are not fooling anyone. Be thankful I don’t have enough proof to report you for what you did. Leave us the fuck alone. Or I will get the law involved.”

“Joel, I understand you need to say this in front of Aria. But Joel, you don’t understand. She’s trapping you. She manipulated you. She made you believe we were a lie. Joel, please, open your eyes. Come back to me Joel. Please.”

Joel looked at her incredulously.

“You need help, Nell. Stay away from me. Stay away from my wife. Stay away from us.”

He turned around and took you in his arms, escorting you in. She called out to him again.

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

***

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

Joel huffed a long, frustrated breath. You just looked resigned and tired.

“How is that possible? I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone fuck you. Get help Nell, seriously.”

He took you inside and shut the door.

Fuck.

Why the fuck would she say that? She had taken it too far, right? This was going to blow in her face, wasn’t it?

Shit.

Think Nell, think. Bigger game plan.

What an ass. She told him she was pregnant, and he dismissed her? What a twat. Any normal man would panic, and this dude was just looking at her like she was crazy. And you. You would think that any normal woman would freak the fuck out if some woman was blowing your husband and claimed to have an affair with him. Suspicious, at the very least. Doubtful, perhaps. Angry, even. But you just stood there and took it. Such a pushover. You were living proof that a fancy degree didn’t mean squat. Dumb bitch.

Welp. She should give up. She really should. There was no way she could get away with this.

But then she wouldn’t get him.

And she really wanted him.

Sure, at first it was just about sampling his famously monster cock, but in her quest to seduce him since the beginning, she had seen him around you. Seen your relationship as husband and wife. Even when he was just looking at you from afar as he was working back in her house all that time ago, Nell envied the way he looked at you. It was never lust. Even back then, he never looked at you like you were a piece of meat he wanted to fuck. He looked at you like there were no other women on this planet. And then there were the ways he acted around you. How he was with you. How loving. How gentle. How romantic. How passionate. How doting. Like his life revolved around you. Even drugged, he was resisting her, loyal to you.

No one had ever looked at her the way Joel looked at you. Not even Tony.

She wanted that. She wanted someone to treat her the way he treated you. But not just any man, she wanted him.

When she got home, she laid on her bed and thought hard about her life, or the lack of one. Her parents had been nagging her to get a job or go back to school. Figure out a life for herself, they said. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. Not like they were destitute. Her spending were change found at the bottom of the couch to her dad. Now they had given her a deadline. Get a job or go back to school within three months, or they will cut her off.

Great. Now she had to go back to school and learn something. Again. Realistically, what job could she get that would fit her lifestyle? She spent hundreds on manicure alone. What minimum wage job would keep that up?

Fuck.

Maybe Tommy was right. She should grow up. Think clearly. Objectively.

Why did it bother her so much that Joel was in love with you? She wondered if she would feel like this if he had married someone else. She kept fixating on you. The fact that you got him bothered her.

What was this animosity she had with you?

For years she kept blaming it on her parents. They preferred you. You were their dream daughter. They neglected her. Prioritized you. So, naturally, she held a grudge against you.

But did they?

The truth was, she couldn’t even say that they were ever neglectful of her. Sure, they had offered you a lot of things your parents couldn’t possibly afford, but it was always after her needs were taken care of first, and you never took their offer, at least not when you started having an after-school job. You had always found your own ways to get what you needed, worked hard for everything. When you were little, you wore her hand-me-downs, played with toys she no longer wanted, read books her parents bought for her that she never bothered to read, gave in to her when she didn’t get her way. She had always been their priority. You were always second.

And yet, you were the one who helped every day when Susan suffered from her stroke. She came home for one summer where she didn’t lift a finger to help her own mother and took off without looking back, spending their money on a whim until she got kicked out of the university and had nowhere else to go. Honestly, right now? Even she could see why they saw you as a daughter. And still, they prioritized her, supported her, loved her, spent money on her, and tried to help her better herself.

She realized then what her actual problem with you was. What she really couldn’t stand about you. It was the fact that you were born lesser than her - in status, looks, background, opportunities – yet you always came out on top. In everything.

She had grown up always getting what she wanted. You had to work hard for everything you wanted. And now, what she wanted was Joel, she tried so hard to capture his attention, and couldn’t even get him to glance at her. And you got him to cater to your every need without trying.

It pissed her off.

But now, she had gone too far. You had never been unkind to her. Her friends may have left her for you, but you had always stayed.

Maybe it’s time to come clean. Accept defeat.

Sigh. So far, taking Tommy’s advice, being a grown up, a good person, sucked.

There was a knock on her door. Her parents came in when she answered. They looked dead serious. Worried, too, she sensed. As soon as her mother sat on her bed, Nell felt a prickling at the back of her neck. They told her your mom had called them. Told them about the baby. Was it true? Was she pregnant? With Joel’s baby?

This was it. Just confess Nell. No going back.

Get it over with. Just confess. And it’ll all blow over soon.

Go on, just say it.

NO!

Instead, she nodded, tears falling thickly on her cheeks.

She told them ‘everything’. How she and Joel had always wanted each other, how they carried out an affair from the moment she got back, how you had caught them at your house together, how you had poisoned him against her, and now he wouldn’t admit to the affair at all. And now she was pregnant with his baby, and he wouldn’t take responsibility and it was your fault! She knew you weren’t as perfect as everyone thought you were. You were conspiring against her all along!

Her parents listened; Susan held her until she fell asleep.

When they left the room, they had a discussion on how to handle this matter delicately.

They left her to ‘mourn and be sad’ for a few days. They came in to talk to her every day. Made sure she was alright, that she ate, drank, showered, and slept. And then they told her that they had a plan. There was no way Joel was going to be able to back out of his responsibility this way. Come on, get ready. We’re going out.

They drove her to the hospital and told her she needed to get a paternity test. Joel will join them there.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

How was she going to get out of this one?

She refused, saying that she didn’t want to see you. No, dear, Aria won’t be there. He promised. So, she went, having no other option but to obey. Joel was, indeed, there. There was no sign of you anywhere. She put on a happy face, a façade for the ‘affair’ for her parents, and went to kiss him, but he took a step back. She could see her parents’ frustrations with him. But he just looked fed up with this whole arrangement.

The doctor asked her a few questions first, reminding her that the conversation may be recorded since this was contestable in court.

(Oh, shit. This had gone too far now, just stop with the whole play, Nell. Just fucking confess while you still could!)

The doctor asked her a list of questions. When was her last period. When was the last time they had sex. And more mundane, very private questions.

She answered all of them. Joel scoffing and rolling his eyes at every single one that involved his… supposed participation.

When she laid on the bed for the ultrasound, she reached out to Joel so that he could hold her hand. She had imagined Joel holding your hand if you were doing this. She wanted that. But he stayed stock still where he was, not even looking at her. Her parents were looking at her with unreadable expressions. Joel ignored her. Her parents didn’t say anything, didn’t intervene either. Her father looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided not to.

When the doctor conducted the ultrasound, of course, she found nothing.

She was not pregnant.

Was never pregnant.

Joel left the room immediately, after releasing a very long breath of annoyance.

When the doctor explained all this to her, Nell cried. She was hysterical. She cried so much her parents came over to console her.

Might as well commit to the bit now, she thought.

“Did I imagine it all? Oh God, what have I done? I have to find Aria and Joel. I have to apologize to them!”

She dramatically ran down the hall, calling for Joel. When she saw him, she told him she was sorry, she didn’t know what was happening to her. Please forgive me Joel. Please.

When Joel turned, Nell saw that you were there in his arms. You looked at her with tears in your eyes. You didn’t seem angry, but you had a look of… pity? She couldn’t stand it.

She saw red again.

You were the reason she had to stoop this low. She lunged forward to scratch your face, but security caught her by the waist and pulled her back. Joel immediately got you out of there, making sure she couldn’t get to you.

The next thing she knew, she was restrained, and then everything went black.

***

Susan and your mom went to visit Nell at the place where she was ‘resting’, at least, that was what her family told everyone. Your mom gave her flowers from you, telling her that you couldn’t make it, you were busy at work. But you did say hi and hoped that she was doing better.

Nell smiled and took the flowers from you. She was feeling much better, she told the two mothers. These past few months had helped a lot. She felt rested, clear, happy. She had worked hard at recovery. She was never diagnosed with anything, or at least she was never told that she suffered from anything, the doctors thought she just needed rest. A few months away from stress, just until her delusions went away.

The delusions, she had admitted to her therapist, that caused her to spiral and conjured an entire affair that never happened. That could not have possibly happened since Joel didn’t have an office where this affair had supposedly taken place at, since Joel was out of town the whole time the ‘pregnancy’ was supposedly conceived, working on a project in the next state over. The delusions that could have destroyed her best friend’s marriage. That could have torn families apart. She cried in therapy when she talked about it. She felt so guilty. How could she had spiralled that badly? Was she so hung up on a man who never paid her any attention? To the point of sexually assaulting him? What was wrong with her? She was so thankful that you and Joel decided not to press charges. So thankful that her parents saw through the whole thing and got her help.

She made so much progress. She slept better, ate better, took time to meditate, and really, really found herself, she told the therapist. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to rejoin society, but she felt as if she would do so much better than before. She finally saw the errors of her ways, and understood, for once in her life, why people were so drawn to you. She should be more like you. You were selfless, that’s why people loved you. You had always dedicated your life to serve others. Even chose a line of work that would make sick children feel better. What could be more noble? She was even thinking of going back to school, locally, of course, so she could be close to her parents.

She told Susan and your mom that she would be released soon, but if it’s alright with her parents, she would take it easy for a while, before looking into courses she could take at the local university. One step at a time.

Both ladies heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that she was doing better.

***

When Nell finally went home a couple of months later, she had not seen you or Joel in eight months. When she got home, she told you, via text, that she wasn’t quite ready to face you, the embarrassment was too great. You understood. The two of you spent a couple of weeks just texting, like old times, before moving on to calls, and eventually, FaceTime.

The first time you FaceTime with her, she was nervous. She didn’t know how forgiving you were, just the thought of seeing your face mortified her. But you were beyond understanding, seemingly just happy to see your friend well again. Joel never joined your sessions, though. He wasn’t ready to face her, and to be frank, he wasn’t quite as trusting as you, believing that you should be careful with her, that he had an unease at the pit of his stomach about her. That you were too nice, too gullible. He just didn’t trust her at all. You understood, you would feel like that too, if you were him, after what she had done to him. So you and Nell chatted on FaceTime alone. She said you looked different – you were glowing. You brushed it off, saying she was seeing her own reflection on the phone, the two of you giggling like schoolgirls again. It was nice to get your old friend back, newly improved, in fact. She seemed lighter, merrier. You were proud of her for getting help.

After two months of being home, Nell said she was finally ready to meet with you. In public, of course. The two of you had agreed to meet at a café you frequented. When she arrived, you were already there. You looked radiant.

And very pregnant.

Nell hugged you, disbelief in her eyes. You were just entering your eighth month and made fun of your waddling as you sat back down. You wanted to surprise her, you said. She seemed genuinely happy for you. Was it a boy or girl? Have you picked a name? When were you due? She was excited when you referred to her as Auntie Nell, touched that you were even considering having her in your baby’s life after everything she had done to you.

After the initial glow of baby talk had passed, Nell took your hand in hers, and looked you in the eyes. She was teary, looking so apologetic, and begged you for forgiveness. She didn’t know what came over her. I am so sorry, Aria. Please, sister, forgive me. You hugged her tight, telling her it’s okay. It’s all in the past. Let’s move forward, yeah? When Nell finally let go of you, her face was wet with tears, but she felt a thousand times lighter.

The two of you chatted a bit more, catching up on gossip, and the ongoings in the town. Finally, Joel’s truck pulled up. Nell froze. Joel got out to help you up and get into the truck. Nell kept her distance after giving you one last hug and told Joel how sorry she was about everything. She would take it all back if she could. She knew he might never forgive her, ever, but hoped that one day he would find it in his heart to forgive her. Joel nodded curtly, before he helped you into the truck, gave you a quick kiss, and ran around to the driver’s side.

***

About two weeks before your due date, you were advised to stay home. You had gotten so big everything was swollen, and moving became a challenge. You told Nell this over the phone as you sat on your couch trying to decide what movie to watch, and how bored you were just sitting at home doing nothing. You couldn’t even clean – bending over became almost impossible without the possibility of toppling over. After you hung up, you started a movie, and received a text from Nell, asking if she and her mother could come over and keep you company – maybe watch the movie with you? Bring you Chinese food? They could bring their maid over; help you clean a bit?

You immediately said yes, your hunger and exasperation at your messy house taking over.

When she knocked on the door, you answered after what felt like five minutes, getting up from the couch unassisted had become some CrossFit challenge with how big you had gotten. Nell came in, bags of Chinese take-out in her hands, marveling at how much baby stuff was in your living room. So many plushies and teddy bears and half made furniture, waiting for Joel to get home to finish assembling. You asked her where Susan was. You thought she was coming? Ah, she’s parking the car, she said.

You leaned out the door to greet her, but Nell’s car was right there in your driveway, no Susan anywhere.

Something sharp pricked you in the neck.

And a pair of hands caught you as you lost consciousness.

***

WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOODY ATTACK

Nell sat in the defendant’s chair in the large courtroom, waiting for the jury to return. It had been a long few months for her. She couldn’t believe she was here. The nerve of some people. What was so wrong with wanting something, or in her case, someone? Her dumbass of a lawyer didn’t even try. She wanted to take the deal, for crying out loud. Screw the evidence. She was going to fight this. The juries will see she was in the right.

She had waited until you were awake again. She tied you up so you wouldn’t struggle. She needed to tell you she won, after all. Nice guys finish last, all that. She needed the satisfaction. She couldn’t believe how gullible you were. To trust her again after everything. Such a stupid bitch. Who would do that? Well, you would, evidently.

You kept asking her if she had taken her medication that day. That she was not thinking straight. She laughed at the idea that you were so straightlaced that you didn’t even know about tonguing your meds. How did you ever satisfy Joel, she had asked, if you didn’t even know what a tongue could do? He doesn’t deserve you, you prude. And what made you think she needed medications in the first place? She faked the whole delusions thing, you idiot. She didn’t spend years at acting school for nothing. She may have flunked out, but she did learn some useful skills. Her parents had started threatening to cut her off if she didn’t get a job soon, and she wanted Joel. Having delusional thoughts seemed the perfect opportunity to get out of adult responsibilities, and simultaneously, break your joke of a marriage up. That place her parents had sent her to was basically a luxurious five-star spa, and she got to lounge about for eight months at the price of spouting bullshit her therapists wanted to hear every couple of days.

You asked her why. What had you ever done to her to merit this? Because you always needed to be better than her. Even in infancy, you started walking before she did, even though she was born two whole weeks before you. You started talking first. You got better grades than her. Did better at piano than her. Got the best parts in school plays than her. You were liked better than her. Even her parents thought of you as the better daughter, even though they were not your real parents. All her friends liked you better than her. Her boyfriends liked you more than her. Men in general wanted you more than her. You got into a better programme than her in college, a programme that her parents were so proud of, they kept telling everyone about it, and yet her own accomplishments went unnoticed. And your biggest mistake of all? You let Joel Miller fall in love with you. You married him. Got pregnant with his baby. It should’ve been her. She deserved it, not you. She could offer him so much more than you could.

But it had become quite clear that he was besotted with you, and as long as you were around, he was never going to get over you.

So, you needed to go.

You begged her not to harm your baby. Please, don’t do anything to my baby. Please, Nell.

Oh you silly bitch, she would never do anything to Joel Miller’s baby. She was going to be there for him and raise the baby with him. It’s you that’s in her way, not your baby.

And with that, she jabbed you with another dose of sedative. She put gloves on and began to cut your baby out of your stomach.

She didn’t anticipate the problems she would face. She had watched so many videos on YouTube, but still, it took forever to cut you open. She had to be careful. She didn’t want to hurt the baby. She needed the baby alive, sure that Joel would mourn too long if he lost you both. The baby was the excuse she needed to spend time with him, to help him. After what felt like hours, she managed to cut you open.

She didn’t anticipate how much blood would be involved. But she persevered. She cut the layers that follow, and finally, after some struggles with an obscene amount of fluid, managed to get your baby out. It’s a girl. She was so happy. She pictured herself and Joel raising this little girl together, happiness finally within reach.

But the baby wasn’t crying. Wasn’t breathing. She panicked. If this baby died, Joel would never recover from your death. She needed this baby alive. Fuck. She had to call 911. But she couldn’t risk you being rescued. It was vital that you must die. She checked where she thought your pulse would be. She couldn’t really feel anything, couldn’t hear your heartbeat either. She washed her hands and got rid of the gloves and plastic apron she was wearing. She took a deep breath and dialled 911.

She gave the performance of a lifetime. She had just walked in to find you bleeding on the floor, your baby cut out of you. Please send help. She couldn’t find a pulse. Oh my God please don’t let my sister die. Please God. Her baby is not breathing, please hurry. She sobbed her way through the call, all the way until the paramedics and the police arrived minutes later. They cut the umbilical cord and cleared your baby’s airway, and after a while, she cried. You were still breathing, albeit very slowly. You had lost a lot of blood.

Nell panicked. You couldn’t still be alive. But she couldn’t do anything. She was surrounded by the police and paramedics. As they were loading you into the ambulance, a panicked Joel and Tommy arrived. Joel said something to Tommy, and Tommy went right inside. Joel climbed into the ambulance and off it went at full speed. She was stuck there, having to give her statement to the police. She was still keeping up with her acting skills, the grieving best friend who was so traumatized she could hardly speak. Someone must have attacked you, and her arrival must have spooked them away. She pleaded with them to let her go to the hospital to be with you. They ignored her pleas. She needed to answer more questions.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Tommy speak to an officer. He brought the officer inside, and they came back out, a plastic evidence bag with a teddy bear in it in the officer’s hand.

She was brought to the station and placed in an interrogation room. She was there for hours. They kept asking her to repeat her version of events again and again. She was exhausted. She later learnt that she was there for eight hours. When she was finally let out, she saw Tommy giving his statement to an officer, along with some of your friends. But they weren’t held in an interrogation room. No one would tell her anything about you or your baby.

She rushed to the hospital, keeping up the appearance of being the worried best friend. There were police officers outside your room. They wouldn’t let her in. She saw a grief-stricken Joel sitting by your bed, his eyes red, his hair dishevelled, you unconscious still, your hand in his. He kept kissing your hand and stroking your head, worry and love written all over his very tired face. She imagined him looking at her with such love one day once you passed.

She went to the nursery and found your parents and Joel’s father and stepmother inside, holding your baby. When they left the room, they saw her, but walked away. Police officers guarded the nursery as well, and wouldn’t let her in. She followed the path your parents and Joel’s took and saw them hugging her parents. They looked at her with disappointment on their faces, and before she knew it, cuffs were slapped on her wrists, and she was arrested for attempted murder in the first degree.

The three sets of parents didn’t do anything to stop the officers, even her own. She was brought back to the interrogation room. She was protesting the whole way, saying that she needed to be with you. She didn’t understand why they arrested her. What evidence did they have to treat you this way?

An officer placed an iPad on the table, and pressed play.

It was a snippet of a video, with audio. All caught on the nanny cam that Joel had installed in a Teddy Bear and placed on the mantel. There she was, clear as day, cutting your stomach open.

The officer stopped the video, told her that she’d better pray the charges doesn’t escalate to murder in the first degree, and walked out.

The trial only took two days. Joel sat on the prosecution side, your parents, his parents, Tommy and your friends surrounding him. Even her own parents were sitting with him. They had paid for the best lawyer they could find to help the DA prosecute their own daughter. They didn’t even bother getting her one. She had to make do with the stupid lawyer that was provided by the county.

The DA offered a plea deal. Ten years in prison if she pleaded guilty. She declined. Her dumbass lawyer tried to get her to take the deal. No! Why would she? When had fighting for what’s rightfully yours a crime? And then, just her luck, the dumbass botched every single argument and defence she had.

You were a conniving bitch who stole the love of her life right from under her. You manipulated him into hating her. You turned everyone against her. She was emotionally driven to get back at you. She was a victim of your bullying. She snapped.

Everyone who was called to the stand disputed this – even Joel, even her own parents. Everyone testified that you were the sweetest person they knew. That Joel was in love with you since high school. Even his ex-girlfriend who he was dating at the time sent a statement to that fact. She only had high praise for you. They all recalled how she had shamelessly flirted with Joel since forever, only to be rebuffed by him. Even the fact that she had drugged him and assaulted him came to light. You had taken him to the hospital right after, and he tested positive for Rohypnol. The only reason they didn’t press charges was because they didn’t have proof that she was the one who laced his protein shake. And that was why Joel had installed the Nanny Cam when you started being friendly with her again.

She’s mentally unstable – she did suffer from delusions. She was delusional. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was even treated for it. It wasn’t her fault. Seeing you being pregnant with the child of the man she loved triggered her.

Except, the Nanny Cam footage caught her admitting to knowing what she was doing all along. That she was never delusional. That she knowingly did what she did to steal him from you, and to get out of having to work for a living.

And then there was all the forensic evidence – Nell realized there and then that just because one watched a lot of CSI, didn’t mean one could get away with attempted murder.

Of course, the most damning of all, was your testimony. You stared her straight in the eyes as you told the court what had happened. No love left in your eyes for her.

Guilty.

She was sentenced to 21 years in a prison at the other end of the country. Enough time for you, Joel and Sarah to disappear that she couldn’t find you when she did taste freedom again.

As they took her away, Nell got weak in the knees, begging you to forgive her. You turned around and walked out hand in hand with Joel and the rest of your family, never wanting to see her again.

***

You sat between Joel��s legs, his arms wrapped tight around you, his chin on your shoulder as the two of you watched Sarah hold Ellie’s hand while they searched for shells along the beach behind your new home. You had decided to move as far away as you can from your hometown. All three sets of parents came along with you, buying houses a couple streets over to be close to the kids, having retired and sold their businesses. Tommy met your new colleague Maria, and very quickly moved in with her. He proposed after only a few months. Joel and Tommy started their own woodworking company, not using the Miller name in case Nell got out and looked for you. You got a job at a local pharmaceutical company, doing what you did back in your hometown for better money. You couldn’t risk working at a hospital again for obvious reasons. No one wanted to stay in that town after what happened. A fresh start. For everyone.

It took a lot of therapy for you and Joel to get here. A lot of nightmares. But you got through it all. You couldn’t bring yourself to get pregnant again after what happened, so you and Joel adopted Ellie a few months ago. Sarah was flourishing and was so in love with her little sister. Joel had been your rock through all of this, despite what Nell did to him. He told you that he thanked God every day that he didn’t remember what happened, although it took a while for him to get back to his old self after. These days, he was still as protective as ever, working hard to provide for you and family, coming home to you and his girls every day with a huge smile on his face. He had become a bit grumpy around your new friends, wary of everyone now, but you loved him for it. He held you tight at night and had a hand on you at all times whenever you two would go out, even if he had one of the kids in his hands. Your nightmares were of being attacked, while his was of losing you. Those few days you were unconscious were the worst days of his life, and he was sure that he wouldn’t survive if he ever lost you.

Nell’s parents cut her off for good. They willed all their money to charity and your children, their grandchildren, as far as they were concerned. You had always been more of a daughter to them than Nell ever was, you cared for them when they needed you, while she was off galivanting in college.

She wrote to you every day for a whole year before you instructed the post office to return any letters from her address. You never read any of her letters. To your knowledge, no one had ever gone to visit her, using distance as an excuse, not that anyone would, even if she was nearby.

As far as you and Joel were concerned, you lives began after the incident. Anything before that was not worth mulling over. This, right here, the four you, and the family you have around you, were all that mattered. If the two of you could get through what Nell put you through, you could go through anything. Together.

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you

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singsweetmelodies · 1 year ago

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Well you HAVE to be delusional to be a lestappie, I mean you have to be delusional to even like max lol but yeah, to be a lestappie you have to be delusional bc they literally spend no time together willingly, max is just delusional and Charles is polite

so true anon 🙏

#asks & answers #anon #anti lestappen #'max is just delusional and charles is polite' might be my new favourite thing someone has said LMAOOO #LITERALLY SO TRUEEEEE TOO #like if you bother to watch any of charles' interactions with ANYONE he actually likes...#you'll see so quickly that he's just being polite to a coworker #they might not hate each other but they sure aren't friends #you really DO have to be delusional to see more to it than that...#but then again like you said; you have to be delusional to like max in the first place #i feel like a lot of max/lestappen fans really feel like fic!max is exactly what he's like irl #and i don't know how to say it any more clearly than OH GOD HE'S NOT #fic!max is the most idealised and likeable (and; yknow; non-racist) version of who max verstappen could possibly be #the reality is NOT that #and i think a lot of people need to snap out of it and realise that #it's that whole thing of ''yeah im delusional about my drivers but at least im not THAT delusional'' y'know?#ALSO!! so sorry for only answering these now... yesterday got unexpectedly super hectic 🙈#but one of my favourite weekend activities is being a hater on tumblr dot com 🤭🤭 so cheers anon!!#ilyyyy and hope you're having a great saturday!

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triptychofvoids · 12 days ago

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are u a medic fictionkin? /gq sorry im just really confused

there are some questions that science just cant answer-

#putting my longer answer in the tags #which is that 1) ive gotten this question so many times.. im wondering if i should put it in my pinned post at this point #2) its a very long answer but it mostly comes down to 'i have some hypotheses but i dont have enough data'#and 'i havent found a term that perfectly describes my experiences so i dont confirm anything in case it leads people to wrong assumptions'#2.5) no i dont really identify with the term fictionkin for the above reasons but its not Completely inaccurate either #theres just more too it than that #but i dont owe an explanation of my state of being to anyone which leads me to #3) why does it matter?#i am not mad that people keep asking #there is nothing wrong with being curious and i know this is the sort of thing that a lot of people will be curious about #but its also something im in no rush to answer nor do i owe anyone an answer to it #and certainly not until its an answer i am confident about #but i digress #im sure some of my other followers are tired of seeing this question so often too so i will leave it at that #im medic tf2 Real (not as a delusional attachment though i know someone asked about that too)#but beyond that you will just have to use your imagination #grins #alright that is enough rambling #the doc is in

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tame-a-messenger · 8 months ago

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My thoughts,

I feel like the biggest disconnect with all the discourse going around is that, (mainly twitter) users automatically assume that combining two peoples names is 'shipping' when that's really not why.

!EXPLANATION!

If you were looking for content surrounding 2 certain people but only tagged their names separately you would be getting EVERY single post. Posts that could have other people in it, and not be the two you were looking for (if I were to look for posts about Ian and Anthony, I would trust the Ianthony tag more than just looking through their regular tags, because people tag them in a lot of other Smosh related content)(same thing for Damien and Shayne, if I was looking for them as a duo I would look through the Shaymien tag)(it simply sorts posts better)

They don't seem to grasp the fact that tagging 'Damangela' is because that's how the tagging culture works over here, and not because we're 'shipping' them.

I thought it was common practice, everyone understands in the fandom world that when you combine people's names it's at it's CORE, a 'Duo Name' before ANYTHING ELSE.

I'm just going to automatically assume that most people getting their feathers all ruffled, just haven't been in fandoms spaces as much, AND THAT'S OKAY!!!

But please, if you take anything away from this, most people doing a lot of shipping is young people, so keep that in mind.

#smoshblr #smosh #Damangela #damangela discourse #I try to keep a calm head about things like this #to be totally frank #I've seen more people complaining about damangela “shippers” than actual shippers #the people that I HAVE seen shipping them werent even being that weird about it #maybe a little delusional #but not super weird #(mostly)#I really really dont see anything wrong with people making edits of them and other content #its really kind of sad that because I've seen so many people freaking out about Damangela #that Damien and Angela might have caught wind of all the people on twitter going on a witch hunt about shippers of them #and the ANTI SHIPPERS are actually doing more harm #I have also been seeing a lot of people over here talking about Angela and Damien's separate tags are getting flooded by people posting #about damangela #I would URGE yall to 'filter' out all the tags you dont want! I dont want to be flooding out different communities!!! THAT IS NOT MY INTENT #if I could be tagging things better LMK!#Peace & Love <3

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harrowscore · 7 months ago

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why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip

#it's ridiculous. this ship is... stupidly cliché. like if you know fandoms at all #you could easily guess why people would be into it. hello?? have you tried to watch tfa without your hate-on-kyle-ron goggles?#did you watch their scenes together? you don't have to like something to recognize the hints #hell. at the time i didn't really like jonerys but i realized they were going to be a thing when i read agot in 2011 #like folks. it's been nearly TEN LONG YEARS. let it go. LET IT FUCKING GOOOO #and for the lucy/cooper shippers out there who think reylos are (again) delusional when they compare the two ships:#no. *you* are being delusional only because you think reylo is unsexy and uncool (which is your right to think btw. obv)#if you can't see why someone would like both of these pairings for similar reasons... idk what to say honestly #people compared it to hannigram... honestly. again i see why they would appeal to anyone who's into both ships #i really do. but... unpopular opinion (since i'm more of a clannibal fan than i could ever be of reylo):#they are more similar to reylo than will/hannibal. there i said it #i'm not talking about the writing (admittedly the quality of it was questionable). i'm talking about tropes #never mind that imo the ghoul is more akin to vader than kylo but whatever #hannibal is an unapologetic kind of villain. he's not gonna have a redemption arc and that's okay #cooper is an antivillain who used to be a good man and became a disfigured cruel bastard. a parody of himself #lucy is him. him before the bombs dropped before he discovered the person he trusted the most wanted to commit genocide #nice. moral. polite. infused with the Good Old American Values™. he's basically her dark side #all of this is very hannigram/clannibal. i'm not denying it at all #but what'll likely happen is that lucy's actions will have a positive influence on the ghoul and remind him of what it means to be a man #and that's way more reylo-like. sorry.#beauty&thebeast/villain with some hidden good in him+morally righteous heroine/enemies to lovers etc.#i mean. hello??..... having said that. i'm not so much of a reylo shipper anymore and tbh never was. i really liked it at the time #but i was never fond of the st era. my fav characters are vader and leia and revan from the old eu. just saying #*and* it's also not impossible lucy gets darker with the ghoul as her traveling companion. in fact i wouldn't dislike it at all #if done well i mean #but i would still like for people to be intellectually honest and less puerile. god knows i have my notps #but i really don't give a fuck about the shippers. good for them i guess? i have better taste lmao but that's heavily subjective #val rambles in the tags #val speaks #txt

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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago

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Was driving all day and reading the anons/answers as we stopped. Genuinely enjoying your takes and also anon's! Love the phrase yaoipilled I can't 😂 it's a very good word for the phenomenae, as it appears in many places, y'know?

yaoi is detrimental to the brain it HAS to be consumed responsibly lest i have to see someone try to assert k|ryu cares more about maj|ma than haruka or daigo again

#snap chats #censoring their names so the kazvmaj| people dont find me. theyre rgg's ve6eta fans to me #or bu|ma fans.. i feel lke bu|ma fans have been more mad at me than ve6eta fans lol..#either way no. the amount. people i see say that. like are you insane. are you blind. delusional.#im being a bonafide hater tonight hang on #because if k|ryu really did care about maj|ma like that he would've never asked him to look after daigo #like that is literally the most blatant example of k|ryu prioritizing daigo over maj|ma MAJ|MA WANTED OUT #AND THEN HE GOT OUT AND THEN K|RYU DRAGGED HIM BACK IN girl i cant.#'snap why do you like k|ryu again' because he's so funny and such an asshole lowkey LMAO anyway. let me cork it there.#before i actually start a fire in my fuckin inbox jesus christ im already on thin ice with these tags

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bataddictedloony · 1 year ago

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Define a woman!

I’m gonna rant this here cus this argument keeps returning on the clock app and one day, I’m gonna be stupid and leave a comment in the wrong thread or smthn so I’m just gonna get it out of my system:

“How do you define a ‘woman’?”

Answer for idiots: you can’t.

You cannot possibly make a definition for the term ‘woman’ without excluding someone from the group when they clearly ARE part of the group (even if you’re a piece of shit transphobe and don’t want to include trans women). A woman is someone who has the potential to give birth? You just excluded every child before puberty, every infertile woman and every woman on menopause, next. A woman is someone who has a uterus? You just excluded a bunch of intersex women and all women who had a hysterectomy, next. A woman has a period? Excluded the millions of women who never get their period for various reasons AND all the women who take continuous birth control AND women who are pregnant AND again, little girls and women on menopause. A woman has to have XY chromosomes? Are you gonna check that for every feminine-looking person you’re gonna meet? How? Do you not think women with down syndrome are women?

Decades of feminism working so hard to make sure women are more than their genitals and potential to give birth, all flushed down the drain because you refuse to believe trans women are more than men in wigs? You’re weak as shit.

So answer for people who actually want to use their brain:

Woman is defined through experiences. Which experiences? Entirely up to whoever defines themselves as a woman.

The ‘female experience’ is so broad. You cannot possibly define it in one sentence and stick it on everyone who calls the word ‘woman’ their own.

You feel feminine and empowered by doing your nails? Congrats, that’s the female experience and makes you, therefore, a woman.

You feel feminine and empowered by wearing plaid and splitting wood in two with a giant axe? Congrats! Female Experience. Woman.

You feel feminine in a dress? Woman. You feel feminine in a tux and suit? Woman.

You feel empowered as a mother and love being pregnant? Woman! You despise the idea of being pregnant but find empowerment in your career? Woman! You feel like your period makes you more in tune with your femininity? Woman. You feel like your period makes you less than human and getting a hysterectomy makes you feel more comfortable in your body? Woman.

you love long hair? Woman. You love short hair? Woman.

You love loving men? Woman. You love loving women? Woman. You love both? Woman. You love everyone? Woman. You don’t feel like love is your thing? Woman!

Sitting at home with a good movie and a bottle of wine? That’s a woman. Getting bloody in a game of soccer? That’s very woman! Taking a walk with your dog? How very woman! Going to the gym? Such woman! Eating out with friends? Friend woman. Shooting a gun in the yard from the patio you built yourself? All woman!

Whatever the fuck makes you feel in sync with your femininity is your female experience, and if you have female experience and you like it, you are a W O M A N ✨

Same goes for men and the male experience btw! Since the question “what defines a man” is never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER asked for SOME 👀 reason. (We all know the reason….) Also same goes for my fellow enbies and the non-binary experience. If painting your nails bring you closer to your enbie side, you’re non-binary.

Gender is such a deeply personal experience, it’s just dumb to define it for someone else, let alone the entire human species. It’s like asking to define a chair, like, you KNOW what it is but you can’t possibly define it without excluding some chairs (“has at least 4 legs”, that’s a horse also swivel chairs exist).

Sidenote: If some idiot tiktokker shoves a microphone and a camera in your face and goes “WHAT IS A WOMAN” or “HOW MANY GENDERS ARE THERE” just go along with whatever dumbass scenarios they come up with. “How many genders are there?” “My dude, as many as you want!” “Oh so like 40??” “Yep!” “Can I identify as a helicopter lol?” “Sure, who cares, do it!” “Should I demand everyone at my job calls me a helicopter” “You can go to your local townhouse, request to change your name to ‘helicopter’ and they’ll most likely let you. You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want as long as it’s not hurting others.” “You don’t think it would be dumb of me to do that?” “Why would I care, I don’t know you?”

#Imma get off the clock app for a while again #My fyp is on the wrong side of the argument again #Saw a lot of comments basically boiling down to “you’re delusional and you need to grow up”#Y’all the ones breaking down an entire socio-biological science to just “can u make baby or nah”#And it’s always under videos of enbies with really Out There fashion senses who have Such Trouble talking on the spot #Or who clearly have trouble explaining themselves #And the transphobe eat that shit up like sugar #Cus that’s all we are right #Blue-haired snowflakes who are so confused about our gender experiences that we fumble whenever asked #Like i love y’all fellow enbies with daring fashion but pls be more mean and confident about your identity #“What does that mean being a they/them”#I’m not a woman and I’m also not a man it’s that simple #“Is it that simple?” Yes what are you not understanding do you need me to tell you like a 5 yo?#I’m a brownhaired twink-looking gremlin who dresses like a skater boi who likes musicals and hates make-up and loves books #TRY to define me #Put me in one of your silly little boxes and see what happens #I’m gonna rip the box to shreds until there’s nothing left unless you leave me the fuck alone and let me pee in whichever bathroom i need #I have more pressing matters than worry about you thinking I’m confused but not empathetic enough to wonder why #There’s too much other really bad shit happening in the world for you to wonder if the blue haired young adult deserves to be taken serious

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emlos · 7 months ago

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#wanna know where im at gender wise #im #oh god #yknow i wanted to say im cis #but thats not true #i do not identify as a woman #because i have none of the societal experiences of one #societal not bodily #like. none #good #bad #NONE #i never went with girls to the bathroom at school #nobody ever hollered at me on the street #i never had a crush #though i think im attracted to women based on the fact that i struggle to see men as like. people (WORKING ON IT)#its like. im not even agender i am somehow ungendered at all #theres one thought ive had #and its not something i can really post #so yknow dont screenshot this i know delusional cis girl moment #but i feel more like a trans woman than a cis woman #i met this girl - i like her but idk if romantically yet #and we have so much in common #like from out childhoods the way we grew up how others treated up how we thought #its like for the first time im talking to someone who has had a remotely similar experience in life #what do i think about that? who am i?#i am obviously not a trans woman bu definiton of the word AND its compound words #and you know whats the funniest part? THAT is not the problem #i long ago came to terms with the fact that my gender is me #but why?

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago

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How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.

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swanpyart · 1 month ago

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Honestly, there’s a lot of instances of the game where Jimmy’s intense rewriting of history really shows how delusional he is. And I don’t think these manifest from guilt, but from a victim-martyr complex: a lot of these are used to make himself look good to the audience, but the utter dissonance between these visions and reality make it terrifying instead.

1. The Birthday Party scene

It seems like something obviously scary, but it’s actually what Jimmy thinks his crew should do. He wants to be celebrated, wants to be admired, and up until he dies is still convinced he was just a well meaning guy who did his best. The party was not a guilt and fear ridden hallucination, but Jimmy deluding himself into thinking he’s the hero. His team should be thanking him and throwing him a party, even when they’re all dead by his own actions. In reality: there probably isn’t even any balloons or confetti, and all Curly sees is Jimmy and the rest of the corpses of the crew sitting at an empty table in a dark room.

2. Curly in the Chair attached to Wheels

The scene where Curly is attached to wheels that must be turned for his organs to sit right so you can feed him his leg is also a good example. This isn’t how bodies work, and Curly is a burn victim, so his internal organs being rearranged makes no actual sense; all of his health issues are external. No, this is what Jimmy thinks must happen; that Curly simply can’t keep down his food, and that all Jimmy needs to do is try harder to get him to eat it. Jimmy, in reality is probably just forcibly feeding Curly his own puked up leg chunk over and over again until Curly grows too tired to fight. And isn’t it like Jimmy to shove a square peg in a round hole and insist it’s the hole’s fault? Jimmy already has shown he’s perfectly fine with force feeding Curly already and is not afraid to get violent when doing so. The reality of that situation is that Curly was probably resisting as much as he physically could, but eventually grows too tired of the abuse and just gives in.

3. Swansea with an axe

And with Swansea, the entire sequence of Swansea chasing him around with an axe may be partially true, but a lot less even-sided in reality. Swansea was shown to have a temper, but killing Daisuke was horribly difficult and emotionally crushing, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright. Jimmy on the other hand clearly views Swansea as an axe wielding maniac who kills without remorse and wants to hoard the cryotank all to himself. I think Jimmy was hallucinating Swansea chasing him around, because I think it would be in character for Jimmy to witness Daisuke’s death at Swansea’s hands and, rather than think over his actions, instead become paranoid and fearful that Swansea would target him, too.

Cus think about it: while Swansea is bigger, he’s also a drunken old man whose grieving the loss of a kid he viewed like his own, while Jimmy is a comparar healthy younger man with a gun. Jimmy already has a track record for picking on those he sees as vulnerable (Anya being the only woman with her room not having a lock, Daisuke being the youngest and easy to influence, and Curly being physically disabled and unable to fight back). What’s more likely: that Swansea suddenly goes from sullen and mournful to an axe wielding maniac gunning for Jimmy’s blood, or that Jimmy is paranoid about an older grieving man and holds him at gunpoint to tie him to the chair?

Feel free to add more examples, this is fascinating

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing jimmy #jimmy mouthwashing #analysis #mouthwashing analysis #swansea mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #they could never make me like you Jimmy

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ellecdc · 6 months ago

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mother!!!! that recent poly!marauders + lily fic had me WEAK. if you please, could you write a part two where shy!reader finds out remus is a werewolf? I could see rem really not wanting her to find out bc he doesn’t want to scare her, but maybe severus(or somebody) spills the beans thinking she already knew, or she overheard a conversation between the boys. she’d be accepting of course, but remus freaks out when she finds out. just a lot of comfort and reassurance.

hope that gives you some inspiration, also, totally don’t have to write it if you don’t want to, of course!!! ilysm 🖤💚

I took this in a bit of a different direction but the ending's just the same! thanks so much sweets <3 <3

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

4.6k words

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader who learns about Remus' furry little problem

CW: miscommunication trope, insecurities, angst [with a happy ending], reader is feeling incredibly insecure in this fic, James cries, Sirius cries a little bit too but they all pretend not to notice for his sake

You felt terribly foolish; no, you felt worse. You felt absolutely humiliated and you had no one to blame but yourself.

And now that you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way.

It was a pipedream at best, thinking you had any place amongst the infamous Marauders and the princess of Gryffindor, and it was delusional at worst.

Of course they’d grow weary of you, of course they’d find your nerves and anxiety tiresome, of course they’d wind up bored of accommodating you when they were all so much more than you.

What had you been thinking? How did you manage to allow yourself to believe that this was anything but a phase for them - they saw you as a challenge, they beat the challenge, and now they were through with you.

You thought that the sweet looks, the kisses, the affection, the effort all meant more than it obviously did.

At least to them.

To you, it meant the world.

To them, it was a chore.

You were a chore.

Foolish girl.

You had been on your way to the library to meet up with the boys and Lily to study for the upcoming Herbology test. It was the first real group ‘date’ after the sketchiness that usually followed Remus about once a month that no one else seemed inclined to comment on, so neither did you.

Except…except, this time, some lingering tension seemed to follow the bout of sketchiness.

And still, no one seemed particularly inclined to comment on it.

And you couldn’t help but feel like you were out of the loop somehow, but you chalked that up to being a newer addition to the dynamic, and not living with them in Gryffindor tower.

That is until you happened to be walking out of their view behind the stacks of books that their table was situated by when you overheard their conversation.

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem. This is getting out of hand.” You heard Lily say solemnly, earning her a pained groan from Remus’ lips, causing you to pause behind the stacks so as to not interrupt their conversation.

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer?” Remus bargained. “I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“It’s worse, Moons.” Sirius corrected.

“Y/N’s so sensitive though.” James added. “I mean, how would that conversation even go? How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” Lily stated matter-of-factly.

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh. “And how do you suggest I go about this?”

“Listen.” Sirius asserted. “I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something. I cannot keep living like this; it’s exhausting.”

Lily made a tsking sound and placed a consoling hand on Sirius’ shoulder as Remus let out another sigh.

“I know, I know; I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

Lily, Sirius, and James all made a hum of acknowledgement.

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.” Lily said.

You felt your stomach migrate to your throat as you turned on your heels and fled the library.

Is that what all the tension was about? Is that what this library study date was? Just a ruse to sit you down so they could break up with you?

Of course it was, idiot. You scolded yourself. They were foolish to entertain the likes of you for any amount of time.

So now you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - and you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way.

“Do you think I should do it tonight?” Remus asked Lily as she finally sat down.

“I think it would be best if we did, sweetheart. I just can’t help feeling like we’re keeping her at arms length by keeping it a secret, you know?”

“I agree.” Sirius said quickly. “It feels like she’s more of a guest than actually part of the relationship whilst we’re keeping something so big from her.”

“I just don’t want her to hate me.” Remus admitted in a whisper.

“Remmy.” James cooed from the other side of Sirius. “Our sweet little Puffle seems completely incapable of hatred. But you know we’ve got your back 110% if she’s not accepting of you, right?”

The other two nodded in agreement but Remus only grimaced. “It just feels like I’d be ruining the relationship for all of you if the only person she has a problem with is me.”

“Impossible.” Sirius replied emphatically. “Anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with us, Moons.”

“Even if we weren’t dating, Rem, if someone didn’t respect my friend - or anyone, for that matter - because of their lycanthropy, I wouldn’t want them around anyways.” Lily agreed.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem, though.” Sirius continued. “Like Prongs said, she’s our sweet girl; I’m sure she’ll handle this fine.”

“Where is she, anyway?” James said, flipping his wrist to check his watch. “She was supposed to meet us like twenty minutes ago.”

The other three shared a look of bemusement.

“Do you have the map?” Sirius asked.

James quickly pulled the map from his book bag to scan the parchment for your name. “It says she’s in the Hufflepuff common room?”

“Maybe she forgot?” Lily mused.

“I spoke to her at dinner; she said she was going to change out of her uniform and then meet us here.” Remus replied, feeling his heart rise to his throat with nerves.

What if she knew? What if she already found out? What if she hated him?

“Rem, it’s alright.” Lily placated, clearly seeing his concern etched onto his face. “Maybe she wasn’t feeling well, or got caught up with something else.”

“She’s never bailed on us before…” James admitted, looking just as worried as Remus was. “Maybe we should check on her?”

“Why don’t we give her tonight; I think after all the shite we put her through this week, she’s allotted one missed date.” Sirius decided, opting to keep his tone light as he teased Remus for his ‘pre-moon angstiness’ as his partners call it.

“We’ll catch up with her tomorrow.” Lily decided; and Remus and James shared a look of concern as they relented to study for the upcoming Herbology test without you.

You weren’t really mad at the Gryffindor’s for their decision to end things with you; at least not at first.

People were allowed to change their minds, and you supposed that was the purpose of dating, right? To see if the person you’re interested in is someone you want to keep around indefinitely?

So, people were allowed to change their mind, and that was okay.

You also couldn’t particularly blame them; you were shy, quiet, timid, awkward in most social settings and certainly not as adventurous as them, it was only a matter of time before they grew bored of you.

So you hadn’t been mad at them, not at first.

But you were growing increasingly annoyed at their attempts to force themselves within your space.

You had opted to sit at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast the next morning; there was no sense sitting at the Gryffindor table with them anymore.

But then you couldn’t handle the feeling of your heart splintering every time you heard Sirius’ bark of laughter or Lily’s giggle at something Remus said or that James did. So you quickly scarfed down your toast and grabbed a muffin to shove in your bag before fleeing from the Great Hall.

What you didn’t notice was James noticing you only as you were leaving, looking incredibly worried.

You nearly shrieked when you exited your Astronomy class that you had with the Ravenclaws and slammed into Sirius’ frame.

“There you are, dolly! We missed you this morning!” He proclaimed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You quickly collected yourself; heart racing from the scare and then quickly migrating to your throat out of embarrassment and hurt at this familiarity you had with him only to be about to lose it.

“Sorry, I had been running late.” You said quickly as you headed for the stairs; the long-haired boy quickly keeping up with your steps.

“Were you feeling alright?” He asked you.

“How do you mean?”

Sirius tilted his head slightly as he considered you. “Well, you didn’t show up to the library last night, and then you were running late this morning; that’s not like you.”

A hot frustrated emotion burned in your chest that you weren’t completely accustomed to feeling.

Wasn’t he the one to say he couldn’t live like this anymore?

It wasn’t fair of you to be frustrated though, which frustrated you even more; he didn’t know that you had shown up to the library last night, nor that you had gotten to the Great Hall on time.

They hadn’t even noticed you this morning.

And that’s why they were ending things; you were forgettable, ignorable, unnoticeable.

“I’m fine, Sirius. Thank you.” You said simply, and quickly headed for the girl’s loo in order to shake him off.

Remus had approached you in Care of Magical Creatures as well, which somehow hurt more.

Perhaps it was because you knew he was going to be the one to tell you that things were over; though you had thought he’d be better than to break up with you in the middle of class.

“Hey, dove.” He said as he gently nudged your arm with his elbow; watching as you groomed the puffskein on your table.

“Hey, Remus.” You said quietly, not removing your eyes from the Beast you were working with.

“I missed you last night.” He admitted quietly.

Did you? You thought petulantly.

“Sorry.” You murmured instead.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He said as he leaned his elbows on your workbench; if it had been any other student, you’re certain Professor O’Brien would have scolded him for not handling the beasts with adequate caution, but Remus seemed to be allowed certain privileges and the puffskein “Kujo” didn’t seem to mind him much. “I just missed you is all.”

And he was smiling that sweet, soft smile at you and he seemed like he actually meant it which only further contributed to your ire.

What happened to ripping the bandaid off? Why keep up this affectionate act if it was only going to end?

Remus looked like he was going to say something when the Professor announced the end of class.

“I’ll catch up with you later.” You offered quickly before you all but threw Kujo back into his pen and took off towards the castle.

The final straw had to be Herbology, though.

You shared Herbology with the Gryffindors, and because you were a new addition - your the four Gryffindor’s all shared a potting bench whilst you worked alongside another Hufflepuff.

Today, however, it appeared that James had other plans.

Before Sadie-Jane could take her seat beside you, James had plopped himself - rather carefully for the notoriously boisterous quidditch chaser, mind you - on the stool beside you.

“Hey, angel.”

Again, with the pet names.

It felt torturous at this point; part of you wanted to rip the bandaid off yourself.

But you looked over at the sweet, warm, inviting face of James Potter and any resolve to tell him to shove it completely dissipated. He was all messy curls, round frames, and warm eyes.

And you might have been [must have been] mistaken, but you felt you could see anxiety and worry painted in his features.

You supposed breaking up with someone could do that to a person, though.

“Hi Jamie.” You whispered back as you opted to ready your supplies for today’s lesson.

“I was wondering if you were going to come to the game tonight?” He blurted then, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst.

Right…the game. The game against Slytherin. The game that would have you sitting between Remus and Lily as they cheered for James and Sirius. That game.

“I...uhm, well…”

Rip the bandaid off.

But it was James.

And you were in class.

And you could see Lily and Remus trying - and failing - to not look like they were watching you and James whilst Sirius had no such qualms and was actively staring at the two of you.

“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll see.” You offered James, mustering up what you hoped was a convincing enough smile.

You could tell by the divot that appeared in James’ brows that you were not convincing in the slightest.

Thankfully Professor Sprout appeared then, instructing everyone to take their seats for class to begin, and Sadie-Jane came to claim her seat from the Gryffindor.

You didn’t go to the game that night.

Gryffindor lost.

And though you didn’t know at the time, James cried, but it wasn’t about losing to Slytherin.

“So, why are you hiding in the dorms?” Caroline asked as she rolled away from her open magazine on her bed, clearly preferring potential drama you could offer her than whatever was in this week's Witch Weekly.

“I’m not hiding.” You muttered back, not looking up from your cross-stitch you were working on instead of, you know, dealing with your problems.

“Right.” Caroline agreed, not sounding like she agreed with you at all. “That’s why you’ve started and quit several hobbies over the weekend and have been going to the kitchen’s to grab food instead of eating in the Great Hall like a normal person.”

You looked over at your half finished gem ‘paint-by-numbers’, the scarf you’d crocheted that looked more like the skin of a messed up snake that had a terrible time shedding, and the guitar you had borrowed from Fenwick and nearly broke in a fit of rage when you couldn’t get it to sound the way you wanted it too.

“I just…can’t face them right now.” You admitted dejectedly.

“I don’t blame you. Helga, have you seen the lot of them? If I’d known they were accepting more I would have made my shot.” She mused as she laid back on her bed.

Grief and jealousy intertwined within you as you thought about them dating anyone else but you.

But you supposed that was their prerogative; they were allowed to change their minds.

“Yeah well, you may still have a chance.” You muttered, capturing Caroline’s attention.

“What?” She asked quickly, but you didn’t have a chance to answer before there was a knock on the door.

“Were you expecting anyone?” She asked with a salacious wink, causing you to glare at her.

“If it’s them, I’m not here; please.” You practically begged your roommate as she rolled her eyes and moved to the door to your dorm room.

“Oh, hello Evans.” Caroline greeted, causing you to scrunch your eyes closed from your place currently hidden from view of the door.

“Hi! Erm, is Y/N around?” Lily asked, sounding uncharacteristically awkward.

“Uh…no, she’s not in right now. I can let her know you stopped by, though?” Caroline offered.

You heard Lily thank her before Caroline closed the door again.

“You sure you don’t want them? ‘Cause those Gryffindor’s are fine.” She sighed as she returned to her bed.

She let out a squawk when your pillow made contact with her head.

Lily stepped out through the barrel to find Sirius and Remus exactly where she had left them (albeit far more tense) as James came running from down the hall where he had been pacing nervously.

“Well?” James asked.

Lily pursed her lips. “Her roommate said she wasn’t there.”

Remus looked down at the map to the place where your name was etched beside your roommate’s in the seventh year Hufflepuff girls’ dormitory.

Either the map was faulty [fat chance], or you were avoiding them.

It was official.

For whatever reason, they were losing you.

You had somehow managed to avoid the Gryffindor’s all Monday; taking a moment to thank every deity that you only had Divination with the Gryffindor house, and none of your Gryffindor’s had opted to take it.

You wondered if you could call them your Gryffindor’s anymore…

You had run over to the kitchens - all but a hop skip and a jump from your common room - to grab dinner and were stepping back out through the portrait of the pears when you came face to face with Sirius.

“So nice to see you, Y/N; I’d almost forgotten what your face looked like.” He said; his tone taking on a harsh tone you weren’t accustomed to hearing directed at you causing you to wince.

“Pads…” Remus warned from behind him, though he was looking at you just as warily as Sirius was.

As was James and Lily.

Shit.

“I’m glad to see you’re still eating…” Remus commented dejectedly as he nodded towards your smorgasbord of a plate that Winky had helped prepare for you that now looked horribly unappetising.

“I…yes. Erm, what are you guys doing here?” You tried.

It had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say.

Sirius let out a derisive scoff. “Cut the bullshit, Y/N. What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Sirius.” Lily warned.

“Would you guys stop?” He barked back at them before returning his burning gaze back to you. “I’m tired of this; of running around the school looking for you, of being disappointed every time you bail on us, of having to hold James whilst he cries because you’ve let him down, of being lied to. So I’m going to ask again - what the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me…” You tried to argue, though it sounded feeble even to your own ears.

James had cried? You made James cry…

The disappointment in Remus’ eyes, the concern in Lily’s, the anger in Sirius’, the sadness in James’... it was too much, too much, too much.

“You’re going to stand there and lie to my sodding face?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Sirius, stop it.” James ordered; his voice far more severe than you have ever heard from him. “Angel, please. Just…just tell us what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

Any sadness that had settled in your chest bubbled into anger at his word choice.

“Fix this?” You repeated back to him. “Why? Why bother fixing anything if you’re all just going to leave me!?”

The four Gryffindor’s stood staring at you with different levels of bemusement; Lily and Sirius at your words, Remus and James at you having raised your voice for the first time…well…ever.

“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” Lily asked cautiously, causing you to scoff.

“I heard you guys - in the library.”

“In the library? But…you never showed?” James asked.

“Yes, I did - and I heard you guys talking about me, so I decided to stay out of your way thinking that maybe I’d make it easier on you all. But then you’ve spent the past week absolutely torturing me; showing up at my classes, trying to sit beside me, showing up to my dorm room like you weren’t just biding your time.”

“Y/N, what exactly did you hear us say in the library?” Remus queried.

“That you couldn’t do this anymore! That someone ‘had to tell me’ because it was ‘getting out of hand’. That you couldn’t possibly live like this anymore and hopefully I’d just understand. And I do! I do understand; but what I don’t understand is what the point of chasing me around the bloody castle is if you-”

“Whoa, whoa. Okay, alright just breathe, darling, I’m sorry.” Lily attempted to placate, holding her hands up as she approached like you were some kind of feral cat.

You sort of acted like one when you swatted her hands away from you.

“No! No, it’s not fair! I’m sorry if I’m too much, or if I’m not enough; I get it, okay? I do; sometimes it doesn’t work out and that’s fair but if that’s how you feel then just leave me alone!” You shouted back, feeling the tears trailing down your neck at this point.

“Y/N, please, listen okay? Just relax and we can talk this out.” Lily tried again as James let out a pained breath that sounded awfully close to a sob.

“Remus, please.” He begged, turning his pooling hazel eyes to his scarred boyfriend who was looking at you in abject horror. “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ve misunderstood, dove. I-I’m sorry, It’s my fault, but what you heard…that wasn’t us talking about breaking up with you. I… It was about me.”

You wiped angrily at your face and set your now cold plate on the ground - you weren’t hungry anymore anyways. “It’s not you, it’s me?” You sneered half-heartedly.

“No, no…Merlin, Y/N I- I’m a werewolf. Okay? I have lycanthropy, I was bitten when I was four; that’s where I go once a month and why I get…weird. We were talking about the fact that I needed to tell you because it was hurting us to keep it from you. Dovey, I’m so sorry you’ve been so upset. Please, please take a breath for me.”

You held your hands over your eyes as you tried to control your breathing.

Sketchiness…tension…disappearances…

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem; this is getting out of hand”

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer? I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“Y/N’s so sensitive though… How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.”

“I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something; I cannot keep living like this, it’s exhausting.”

“I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.”

“I’m a werewolf. I have lycanthropy…that’s where I go once a month.”

“Please…baby, please say something. I-I’m so sorry.” You heard Sirius plead quietly; his shaky voice in stark contrast from the way he’d been barking at you just moments before.

You pulled your wet hands away from your eyes to see all four of them looking at you with nothing but worry and heartache on their faces; though none looked quite as vulnerable as Remus did.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered.

You sucked in a shuddering breath as more tears fell. “So…you don’t hate me?”

Remus let out a disbelieving laugh when you heard what sounded suspiciously like a sob from James.

“No! No, no dove, that- I’m rather quite in love with you, you know?” He pressed, daring to step closer to you. “Do you hate me?” He asked then, tone turning vulnerable once more.

“No.” You whined emphatically.

“Oh my poor girl.” Sirius whined sympathetically.

“Can I hug you? Please?” James all but begged, stepping in front of you with his arms open already; poised for you to say…

“Yes.”

You’re not sure he even waited for the affirmation to leave your lips before he had you encased in his arms.

You shoved your face into his chest and fisted his shirt in your hands; pulling him as close as you possibly could to your person.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there - directly in front of the kitchens and awfully close to your own common room - sniffling into James’ shirt as he sniffled into your hair, but you heard a sniffle come from beside you.

You turned to see Sirius’ grey eyes shiny and red as he looked at you imploringly.

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you, sweetness. I’m such an arse I just…I-”

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“No it’s not.” Sirius argued immediately. “I…I get like that sometimes; just horribly defensive and then I go on the offensive first. I didn’t even give you a chance to talk to us before I was attacking you; I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Siri.” You offered again, holding a hand out to him which he took readily.

“I can’t believe you’ve spent this whole week believing we wanted nothing to do with you.” Lily whined from your other side. “I’m so sorry we left you feeling like that, darling girl.”

Though you were quite content in your muscled hideaway, you pulled away from James’ chest to wipe at your face again, feeling awfully self-conscious of how blotchy your face must look from your tears.

“I shouldn’t have assumed.” You admitted shamefully; voice scratchy from both the shouting and the crying.

“The way you described it, I can understand how our conversation sounded to you, babygirl.” Sirius contended.

“So…you’re really not leaving me?” You asked again.

“I feel like I should be asking you that, dove.” Remus replied.

“Why would I be leaving you?”

Lily shared a knowing look with Sirius and James who in turn moved their gazes to Remus with expressions reading “see?”.

“Not everyone would be accepting of a werewolf.”

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you looked at the others as if saying “are you hearing this right now?”

“But…I love you? I…I don’t even know what else to say…I just… love you so, that’s fine.”

“I just love you so that’s fine.” Sirius repeated as he looked at Remus arrogantly. “I knew I should have placed a bet on how she’d respond; I’d have made five galleons!”

“We were not going to bet on how our girlfriend would respond to Remus’ furry little problem, Sirius.” Lily chided as she playfully swatted at his shoulder.

“Besides,” James added, pulling you closer into his side again. “You would have lost because I don’t think any of us would have bet that she’d misinterpret our disastrous conversation as us trying to leave her and then spend the week believing we were waiting for the perfect time to break up with her only for us all to shout and cry when we realised what happened.”

“No, that's true.” Sirius agreed readily, looking back at you with sympathy. “I really am sorry, baby.”

“Me too.” Lily continued.

“Me most of all.” Remus added.

“I knew we should have gone looking for her that night.” James mused aloud mostly to himself. “Could have saved us all a lot of heartache.”

“Yeah, yeah Prongs. You’re right again; I’m sure we’ll never live it down.” Sirius said with a playful eye roll.

“How can we make it up to you?” Lily asked as she placed her hand at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and traced shapes along the column of your neck with her thumb.

You shook your head shyly and looked at your feet. “It’s not necessary guys.”

“Nonsense.” Sirius scoffed.

“Let’s start with some dinner, yeah? And maybe a cwtch in the boys’ dorm upstairs?” Remus offered to the group, though he seemed to be waiting for you to answer.

You nodded at him and he opened his arms in invitation which you accepted readily.

“I’m sorry, dovey.” He whispered into your hair.

“I’m sorry too, Rem.”

“Let’s never fight again.” James decided enthusiastically as Lily and Sirius stepped through the pear portrait into the kitchens.

“Sounds good to me, bubs.” Remus agreed as he bent down to press a kiss to James’ lips whilst keeping you secured to his side.

You were sure that after this week, these four wouldn’t be letting you out of their reach.

After this week, you weren’t sure you minded that at all.

2K notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 3 months ago

Text

Title: Love and Care.

Pairing: Yandere!Clark Kent x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 4.0k.

Commissioned by the very lovely @distortedhumor.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Prolonged Captivity + Kidnapping, Spanking, Psychological/Physical Abuse, Slight Infantilization, and Delusional Behavior.

You were going to freeze to death.

That was – if you didn’t die of dehydration, first. You really weren’t sure which was supposed to work faster; thirst or exposure, the acidic dryness crawling up the back of your throat or the slow, numbing chill spreading up from your toes, your fingertips. You didn’t have to worry about hunger – even if you could feel something sharp and hollow gnawing at the pit of your stomach. You remembered reading somewhere that it took longer than a month for someone to starve to death, even if it was hard to believe that when it felt like you were on the verge of collapsing into yourself.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t been prepared. Admittedly, it’d been an impulsive thing to do, the half-baked result of a door left unlocked and the daunting awareness that you had at least twelve hours before you so much as heard from Clark again, if not the full twenty-four. You didn’t have shoes more durable than house-slippers and the delicate, lovingly polished, Mary Jane heels he liked to see you in, but you’d put on your thickest dress, stuffed a bottle of water and a few slices of homemade bread into knapsack, and started walking into the lifeless, rolling plains that surrounded the rustic farmhouse he kept you in. You didn’t run – he always seemed to know if your heart rate spiked– but you had all day to walk until you found a road, or a phone booth, or anything else that could at least remind you that other people existed. You figured you’d come across something eventually, even if you couldn’t find the help you were looking for.

Except, you’d underestimated just how cold the countryside could get in autumn, and you hadn’t thought to ration your meager supplies until after they’d already run out, and as far as you could tell, he’d found the most vacant, lifeless, desolate corner of the world to trap you within. The hem of your skirt was caked with mud and dust, your knapsack had been left behind entirely after you realized there was no point in carrying and empty bag, and one of your heels had broken off about two miles back – leaving you reduced to a slow, hobbling limp. Your body was exhausted beyond exhaustion, but you couldn’t imagine a world where you stopped walking. The only thing worse than knowing you were going to freeze to death in the middle of nowhere would be knowing that you’d just laid down and accepted it, and if you’d been willing to do that, you wouldn’t have run away at—

Your foot caught on a dense patch of undergrowth, and too tired to catch yourself, you crumpled – your knees hitting the earth with enough force to make you whimper. The last of your perseverance crashed and shattered as soon as you hit the ground, and before you could so much as try to stand up, you fell apart completely. You felt the tears before you realized you were crying – just one, at first, then another, then more than you could ever hope to count. You threw your head forward, sniffling miserably as you collapsed onto your side. You were going to die out here, but…

But, that was probably for the best, wasn’t it? It was either die out here, or die in that lonely farmhouse when Clark finally lost his temper or the roof collapsed or the ‘villains’ he was also so worried about finally did their job and put you out of your fucking misery. With a full-fledged sob, you curled into yourself and clenched your eyes shut, and—

And of course, less than a full second later, you felt a pair of muscle-bound arms your crumpled form, sweeping you off the ground and dragging you into a broad chest. You were too weak to meaningfully resist, but still, you tried to writhe and nudge yourself out of his iron-clad hold to little success. He was already talking, too. Great. On the ranked list of things you might’ve wanted to hear immediately after accepting your own mortality, your kidnapper’s nervous babbling didn’t crack the top hundred.

As if that had ever stopped him before.

“—and I thought you’d gotten hurt, and your pulse sounded so far away, and— and I don’t know what I would’ve done if it’d taken me any longer to find you.” You tuned in mid-rambling, trying to swallow your agitation. He was bent over you, his face buried in your hair, giving his voice an unsteady, muffled quality. For the world’s strongest man, he was quick to fall apart whenever he thought you so much as might be in danger. You couldn’t really judge him for that, though. You fell apart whenever he wasn’t around, too, and you didn’t care about him at all. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? There’s a hospital about fifty miles away, I can—”

“I’m fine,” you cut in, your hands shoving at his forearm where it was barred over your waist. With an airy sigh, he repositioned you – letting you fall into a proper bridal-carry rather a fully-body tackle. You noticed, for the first time, that his feet weren’t touching the ground. He was levitating, a nervous habit that that back into too often to keep track of. He must’ve genuinely thought you were in danger. More importantly, he must’ve known there was no one around to see him doing something so obviously superhuman. “Just a little cold. I‘m sorry for worrying you.”

Another sigh, this one more genuine than the last. For the first time, he drew back, and you were able to see him properly. He must’ve come straight from Metropolis; he was still wearing the suit you’d seen him in that morning, his hair slightly disheveled and his glasses shoved haphazardly into his shirt pocket. You tried to breathe, not to be thankful for how quickly his inhuman warmth was ebbing away the harsher edges of your hypothermia, and for the most part, you succeeded. You felt his lips brush against your cheek, then the corner of your jaw – Clark as affectionate as he was paranoid. “Poor thing,” he muttered, haphazardly shrugging off the jacket of his suit and draping it over your shoulders. “We’ll have to get you warmed up once we get home.”

Despite yourself, you stiffened. It was over - you knew that. He caught you, and even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to go on much longer. You knew that.

And yet, you held yourself that much tighter as you asked, “…do we have to go home right away?”

Clark’s smile softened; his expression slackening is a patronizingly sympathetic sort of way. He didn’t need to answer, not really, but you still cringed when he inevitably did. “Of course, dear.” And then, with another kiss to your forehead. “How else can I keep you safe?”

You might’ve been nicer than him, after all. Rather than respond, you bowed your head and tucked yourself against his chest, shutting your eyes and blocking him out entirely. Clark only hummed in acknowledgement, flying that much higher and taking you home.

It took an embarrassingly short time to reach the farmhouse – less than a full minute, if that. It wasn’t what you deserved, but it was what you needed: a reminder that you were trying to run away from someone who didn’t have to run at all to keep up with you. Trying to escape on your own was pointless. You’d either have to find another way to get away from him or give up entirely.

Despite your constant squirming, Clark only put you down once you were inside (meaning, once the front door was locked and deadbolted with you securely trapped behind it), and you stumbled to your feet, still on the verge of collapsing. He let you struggle through all of two steps before taking you by the hand and, with that award-winning smile, guiding you through the farmhouse. “A warm bath should do the trick. Some tea, too – or coffee, to keep your blood flowing.” His eyes flickered down to the mud-caked hem of your dress, your ruined shoes. “It’s a pity. I know that’s one of your favorites.” He paused, squeezed your hand. “We’ll have to pick out another together. Maybe tomorrow, before I leave for work.”

You bit the side of your tongue, nodding along absently and letting him ramble. When you passed the staircase leading to the second floor, to your bedroom, you started to move towards it, but Clark only continued further into the house.

“Uh, Clark?” You dragged your feet as he pulled you into the kitchen. “I— Um, tea sounds nice, but I’d really like to change, first, and—”

“In a few minutes.” Another infuriating smile, another squeeze to your hand. “Do you remember what happens when you break one of our rules?”

You felt something in your throat tighten. You’d managed to forget, but it came back quickly enough. “I do, but— I was out there for a few hours, and I can’t really feel my—”

“We’ll take care of that in a few minutes, love.” He was already moving towards the kitchen table, your hand still trapped in his. “We should get this over with now.”

Trying to argue would’ve been useless. You did your best to grit your teeth, to brace yourself, but your vision still blurred as he finally released you, settling into one of the simple wooden chairs. You crossed your arms over your chest, but it did little to put a barrier between you and his prying gaze. “Do you want to undress yourself? Or, do you need my help?”

Shaking your head, you fumbled with the buttons lining the back of your dress. Usually, you could manage on your own, but your hands were still numb, and you were fighting back tears, and Clark only watched you struggle for a few seconds before motioning for you to come closer. Soon enough, cotton and lace pooled uselessly at your feet, leaving you all-but entirely exposed in front of him. You didn’t need to be told to take off your shoes, kicking them into the depressing pile of fabric that used to be your favorite dress, but when it came to your panties, you hesitated, glancing toward Clark with a pleading look. “All of it,” he confirmed, with a tone bordering on apologetic. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As if that would make you feel any better.

You sucked in a deep breath, then eased your panties down to your ankles. You’d been wearing one of your nicer pairs – white and silken, with a lace trim around the edges and a ribbon bow that was just slightly too big to be entirely inconspicuous. They were one of Clark’s favorites, even if you doubted you’d ever hear him admit something crude out loud. You could only hope you’d never see them again.

You kept your eyes on the floor as he took you by the waist and with as much effort as it might’ve taken to move a doll from one shelf to another, lifted you up and laid you over his lap. His thighs bit into your stomach as a hand found its way to the small of your back, rubbing slow circles into the base of your spine. “We’re only going to do fifteen, alright?” It wasn’t really a question, so you didn’t bother pretending you were going to answer. Clark didn’t seem to need you to. “And you know I’m doing this because I love you, right?”

That, you couldn’t get out of so easily.

“I know,” you mumbled, because that was what would upset him the least. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.”

He didn’t make a sound. You wondered if he’d heard you at all, at least until the flat of his palm came down on the plush of your ass and immediately, it was impossible to think about anything at all.

It was a small mercy that he didn’t make you count. It was something he’d tried early on, the first couple of times you‘d thrown a chair through a window or stolen his phone or hoarded weapons underneath the mattress of your shared bed, but you’d never really been able to hold yourself together long enough for anything like that. You broke down too quickly, too easily – fuck, you were breaking down right now and he’d only hit you once. You could already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, a knot welling up in the back of your throat that only seemed to let little, pitiful whimpers and miserable sobs slip by. You tried to steel yourself, to bite back any signs of weakness, but that only meant you’d forgotten to brace yourself for the second strike – just as bad as the first, centered more towards the back of your thigh than your ass. He was trying to spread the pain, to make sure any marks he left wouldn’t be permanent. He was trying to be gentle.

It was scarier than it should’ve been – knowing that he really did care about you. You couldn’t call it ‘love’, not really, not if you still wanted to be able to live with yourself, but he had to care about you, at least enough to pay some amount of mind to your well-being, at least enough for you to be sure he didn’t hate you (although, some days, you could still be convinced otherwise). He didn’t love you, but he thought he did, and the fact that he could earnestly believe he loved you and still treat you like this made you very, very afraid of what could happen if he ever changed his mind.

By the third strike, you were crying unabashedly, and by the sixth, your hands were clamped around his thigh, your nails biting into his skin in less of an attempt to hurt him and more of a desperate scramble for any kind of stability he had to offer. It was all force, no friction – a bruising, throbbing type of pain quickly spreading outward from every part of your body unfortunate enough to be under his palm. You couldn’t seem to talk, but Clark didn’t have an issue, pausing after every blow to rub circles into your bruised skin and mutter to himself. You couldn’t imagine he still thought he was talking to you. “I just worry about how you’d manage things, out there, all on your own,” he explained, his tone cloyingly sweet. Like he was talking to a child, too naïve to know any better. Like he could still expect you to believe there was anything in the world more dangerous than him. “You know I’ll always keep you safe, but I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s easier for both of us if you just—” A pause, an airy chuckle. “—if you just stay out of trouble.”

You’d lived in the city for years and never gotten into trouble, not before meeting him. Saying that felt pointless, though, especially when he was already moving onto the seventh.

Fifteen was a terrible number. If there’d been twenty or more, you might’ve been able to go numb by the time he finished, and ten or less would’ve given you a chance to preserve at least some of your dignity. At fifteen, though, the pain was still intense enough to be blistering, and you couldn’t seem to choke down your own keening sobs as Clark brought down his hand for the final blow – using just a little more force than he really had to, making sure the lesson would stick for the next couple of days, if not the next couple of weeks. He was strict, like that, despite how tender-hearted he pretended to be. If he wasn’t, you would’ve acted out more often.

You had to believe you’d act out more often.

You were still limp and crying when his arm wrapped around your waist and with a raspy, adoring sound, he sat you up – letting you straddle one of his thighs. Whatever relief you might’ve felt at the end of your punishment was immediately overshadowed by the pale, reddish tint spread visibly across his face, the feeling of something too large and too stiff pressing into your leg where it fell between his. Clark didn’t acknowledge it, though, and you were happy to follow his lead, melting into his hands as he cupped your face, basking in his happily provided comfort. There was a shallow exhale as he tilted your head back, pressing another lingering kiss into your forehead, before dipping lower – falling immediately to your neck. You let his lips make contact with your throat before sniffling and shifting in his lap. “Hurts, Clark,” you murmured, doing your best to make your voice that of something small and in need. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but… can we go upstairs, first?”

That was enough to snap him out of it. “Right. Of course.” There was one last peck to your collarbone before he pulled you into his arms, any thought of letting you walk on your own prematurely dismissed. You tried to go blank as he trailed through the farmhouse, not to focus on anything but the pain and your exhaustion, but your gaze seemed to catch on everything you didn’t want to see – the bowl of dough still rising on the kitchen counter, the torn dress-shirt you’d planned on mending today, a dozen tiny things that all drove their own little needles into the pit of your stomach. In Clark’s defense, the housewife shtick hadn’t been his idea, but you couldn’t say he was entirely blameless, either. When you were left trapped and alone, given nothing to do and no way to occupy your time, there was only so long you could last before resorting to household chores. It was just a happy coincidence that the byproducts of your captivity were practically identical to the kind of sugar-sweet, domestic behavior that’d always seemed to melt his heart, back when your relationship wasn’t so insidious.

At least the bathroom was warm. Still too unsteady to be trusted to walk on your own, you sat on the vanity while Clark ran a bath, staring at your hands absentmindedly as the steam started to ebb at the chill. When the tub was nearly full, he helped you into it, more than happy to make it seem like you couldn’t so much as move without his help – which, in his defense, you really couldn’t. As you sunk into the scorching water, you made a mental note not to let him touch you at all tomorrow. You doubted it would be enough to fix the damage tonight had done, but it’d be better than letting him coddle you half-to-death.

Surprisingly, Clark didn’t hover over you for very long. “I think I promised you something to drink,” he explained as he moved to the doorway, his smile suddenly sheepish. Like he had any right to be shy about what he’d done to you. “I’ll be back in a second – unless you think you’ll need a hand?”

You hesitated, but shook your head. “’m fine. I just need some time to think.”

“Not too long.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes prying into you for a second, then another before he turned away. “I think we should be careful about what gets into your pretty little head, for the next few days.”

And just like that, you were left alone. For the first time since he’d brought you home, you let yourself relax. The hot water momentarily dulled the pain, but without the agony to distract you, humiliation quickly took its place. You shouldn’t have let Clark take you back so easily – that only gave him more leeway to treat you like some naïve, fragile object he’d been tasked with looking after. You shouldn’t have taken your punishment so quietly, even if you doubted clawing at his legs and thrashing would’ve actually accomplished anything beyond salvaging your pride. You shouldn’t have run away at all, not if it meant triggering Clark’s paranoia, not if it reminded Clark that you’d still take any chance you saw to get away from him. You’d have to be smarter about it, if you ever to escape tried again.

(You did your best to ignore that, a few months about, the same sentiment would’ve been followed by ‘when you inevitably tried again’. You weren’t superhuman. You didn’t always have the strength to be so delusionaly optimistic.)

When Clark did return, he was blissfully quiet and careful to keep his distance, sitting on the edge of the tub while you haphazardly washed the dust out of your hair and scrubbed the mud from your skin. Even after the water had gone cold and you’d managed to struggle to your feet, his touch remained fleeting, ginger as he bundled you in a towel and lifted you into his arms – his sudden distance no excuse to treat you like a living, breathing, capable person, apparently.

You didn’t have the energy to be frustrated. Exhausted and beaten down, you closed your eyes and rested your head against his chest, only stirring slightly when you felt Clark lower you onto a quilt-padded bed. You started to sit up, but the feeling of a hand laying over your hip was enough to stop you. When you opened your eyes, you found Clark, still standing, still staring down at you with that dazed, lovesick smile. “It’s really amazing, how someone like me could ever end up with someone like you.” He dipped lower, his lips finding the side of your throat. There was no pretense of innocent affection, this time, just his mouth on the side of your neck, his teeth ghosting over your skin. His voice was stifled by proximity, but mournfully audible. “I love you. I’m always going to love you. You know that, right?”

“I... I do.” You sounded hoarse, weak – more so than you would’ve liked. Clark nipped playfully at your collarbone, nearly breaking the skin. “I know you’ve been waiting, but—”

“Guess I’m just that impatient, when it comes to you.” There was an airy chuckle, a glint to his smile, but neither were very comforting. Again, you made an attempt to flee, and again, he found a way to keep you where you were – his hands curling around your thighs as he eased your legs apart. There was a hollow thud of body against floorboardas he fell to his knees, as he pressed yet another open-mouthed kiss into the inside of your thigh. “I just can’t help it. You make it hard for me to think straight.”

Not that he was trying to. You opened your mouth, trying to think of something that could distract him, that could convince him you just couldn’t do this, but he’d latch onto your cunt before you could spit anything out – the flat of his tongue running over your entrance while his nose ground into your clit. With your ass still blistered from your punishment and your nerves still on-edge from the cold, that was all it took for you to bolt upward – your hands automatically finding their way to his hair in a desperate attempt to pry him off of you. Of course, he didn’t budge, and of course, when he did glance up, he did it with that lovestruck expression that you’d never been able to stand. That you never wanted to see again.

That you just couldn’t seem to wipe off of his fucking face.

“Clark,” you whined, his name fractured and mangled on your tongue. “Please, I— It hurts, and I’m so tired, and I just—” You cut yourself off, swallowing harshly and trying to catch your breath. “Please, don’t.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your heart skipped a beat, hope swelling in your chest. He melted into your palm, grinning like an idiot. “You can relax. I promise, I’ll be gentle.”

And just like that, you felt something deep in your chest crack open and shatter.

The next time he bowed his head, burying himself between your thighs, you didn’t bother trying to stop him.

You didn’t do anything at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere dc #dc x reader #dc imagines #superman x reader #clark kent x reader #yandere superman #yandere x you #yandere clark kent

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rapplesart · 6 months ago

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Random fic idea

Tim drake but instead of loosing his spleen he lost part of his leg.

Tim thought it was obvious he was missing his right leg from the knee down. It was a whole leg that was missing after all. Sure he was wearing a prosthetic made by Ra's' best people.

One he painfully earned after that crazy fucker made him fight a bunch of his assassins one legged in order to "proof himself as the true heir of the bat he saw in him" or something. So sure, the leg might be more advanced than most, and it imitated natural steps a lot easier and even made it possible to easily run without switching to a different leg. Truly it was a perfect leg be vigilante with. But he never even bothered to give it human like appearances.

But apparently the Fam didn't notice. When he returned with Bruce everyone was too reliefed to give Tim a closer look and it just never came up afterwards.

Tim thought they just didn't want to ask about it in a weird attempt of being polite or even caring. Bruce surely did enough research on how it happened on his own. The man spend the whole travel back to Gotham with Tim after all. Tim truly believed the world's greatest detective would have noticed his missing leg.

Except he didn't. Not if he interpreted the way they looked so incredibly disturbed by is nonchalant way of handlinh the boiling hot chemicals that landed on his metal leg. He just brushed it off, the battle continued and since nothing seemed to be injured no one pressed him when he said "Must've missed me after all"

Now, how do you deal with a family that didn't notice you're missing a leg? That's right you fuck with them.

First thing he did was buy himself a few more realistic looking prosthetic leg. It had to be custom made to fit his stump so it took a whole but it was a worthwhile investment.

The first one was Jason. Call it a twisted revenge for trying to kill him but Tim just really wanted him to be messed with the most. So one day when he knew it was only Jason and him on patrol he strategically set himself down to fall. Crunching some spaghettis to ass in a sickening way only to stand up and walk away as if nothing ever happened.... With his foot toned the wrong way around. Insisting on nothing being wrong and Jason being delusional whenever the older boy tried to get him to get medical treatment. He switched it up the whole evening, whenever he was out of sight he turned the fool right and wrong. Driving the guy insane.

Jason did not sleep well that night. He was also top weirded out and unsure if what he saw was real to talk about it with anyone else.

Then, he challenged dick to a flexibility contest seeing how far they han bend their knees and feet. Even Mr bones are a social construct gymnast Richard Grayson looked horrified as Tim stood there, food bend almost in half, knee twisted to the impossible and what looked lihe a bend in the middle of his leg. Dick claimed cheating except the thing that greeted him when he demanded Tim to puch up his pant leg to expose his trick was a normal looking leg. The first Robin did lots of stretches in the following weeks. His pride was hurt after all.

Finding a way to mess with Damian was a bit more difficult. The brat still made a bunch of harsh comments again and again and he really wasn't close enough with Tim to be easily gaslit. The kid was a trained assassin and was probably used to a bunch of weird shit considering everything Ra's. So Tim decided he could go a bit more gory on Robin than the others. So one night he sat in front of Damians room, in the dark hallway and waited till one of his pets passed him. Once Alfred the Cat came along he made some louder coping noise that would Definetly make the kid look out to check on his animals. It worked just as planned, Damian peeked out his door to see Tim, crosslegged and barefoot on the floor, seemingly cutting off his toe to feed the cat. In reality it was nothing more than a cat treat and carefully picked, animal safe food coloring.

The kid scremed at him, threatened to stab him, punched him real good for harming his cat and took off with said cat to find Alfred so the older man could check on the poor kitten. Of course not beforeaking sure Tim was in an adequate amount of pain on the floor, with his 'injured' food secured to the floor with another knife. Only to return with a worried Alfred on tow to see Tim, standing two whole bare feet with a confused expression and a bag of cat treats in the hall.

Tim got a broken nose for it but it surely was worth it. Especially once he quietly whispered a 'no one will ever belief you' to the kid in passing. He might have traumatised the boy a little but Tim fought it justified for all the attempted murder he suffered.

#batman #batfam #tim drake #red robin #fic drabble #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #crack fic #fanfiction #fic draft #brain fart

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reilemon · 7 months ago

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₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

#my writing needs to be hornier #guess i'm back to writing #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne smut #love and deepspace smut #zayne x you #lads zayne

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