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katebishopsbow · 11 months

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MISSING PIECE • F1 GRID

pairing: f1 grid x driver!reader (platonic)

summary: you have always taken pride in your ability to handle the press, until a journalist mentioned a sensitive topic that you had tried desperately to avoid – your estranged father. you struggled to give a response, and your fellow drivers showed no hesitation to jump in and defend you.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, daddy issues, mentions of abusive parent, found family

word count: 3k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Formula 1 journalists have always been known to be brutal – asking questions that teetered on the brink of privacy violation and unnecessarily hostile probing with the excuse of “providing insightful coverage” on the highly competitive sport.

That was why media training existed – to prepare drivers for the harshest, most demanding questions thrown at them and rewire their brains such that instead of lashing out, they would be able to gracefully divert the focus to something else while also preserving their pristine image.

You had always excelled at handling the media, and your ability to constantly remain level-headed even when they asked the most ridiculous of questions was something you took pride in – until a journalist purposefully asked about a subject you had desperately tried to avoid ever since your F1 career started.

The relationship you and your father had was rather difficult to explain. The two of you became distant since the day your parents divorced and you decided to walk away from his constant emotional unavailability and manipulation he so skillfully disguised as paternal love. He didn’t bother asking you to stay – well, he never bothered doing anything when it came to you. He called occasionally, only when he needed something from you and your mother, and sent birthday cards out of obligation a month late because god forbid he remembered your birthday if your mother hadn’t reminded him.

Then the calls became less frequent, and then they stopped altogether, and his empty promises of visiting became blatant lies that you no longer believed in. Your father gradually turned into a stranger, a missing piece, a clouded memory left behind in the childhood days of your life.

It was a hard subject for you to talk about, something you would much rather keep away from the limelight and scrutiny of the world. Unfortunately for you, secrets weren’t really a thing in F1, and the obvious absence of one of your parents on the grid and in all your victory celebrations had been noticed by the public’s watchful eyes.

So your secret was no longer a secret. All the drivers on the grid were aware of it, and a few closest to you had known the full truth of your strained relationship with your father, but they all avoided mentioning it as they knew it was a family matter you wanted to remain private. Most journalists were also respectful enough to avoid asking insensitive questions when interviewing you, phrasing their words like “How will you celebrate the win with your family?” instead of using the term “parents”, and you were more than appreciative of that.

So when the voice of a certain reporter who was known to be ruthless with his questioning echoed through the press conference, directing the uncomfortable and out-of-the-blue question toward you, you suddenly found yourself at a loss for words.

“Rumors have been circulating the Internet recently about you and your father. There are accusations against you claiming that you were ‘selfish’ and ‘ungrateful’ for cutting off ties with your parent, that a callous and unforgiving person such as yourself does not deserve a seat or to be the inspiration for young minds. What are your comments on such claims, and have you ever experienced regret for turning your back on your family – your very own flesh and blood?”

The sudden silence in the room was suffocating, and the only sound you could hear was the heartbeat that was drumming loudly in your ears as the colour drained from your face. The discussion revolving around your relationship with your father wasn’t anything you were unfamiliar with, but to hear it being brought up so directly in front of the press and all your fellow drivers, and all the demeaning names that people had called you – it had felt so demoralizing.

What happened between you and your dad was entirely private, people outside of your family who had never gone through what you had experienced should never have the right to make comments on your decision to leave. They didn’t know what it was like to have a father who was never there, who constantly let you down with his lies and broken promises, who subjected all his volatile temper and toxic outbursts to his daughter and wife.

You had enough of his bullshit and were simply sick of pretending to be the perfect little family, so you left with your mother and told yourself that you would never look back. It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t miss the presence of your dad every now and then – the palpable emptiness he left behind had and would continue to haunt you – but you also never once regretted your decision.

“I – I don’t think… these accusations… umm –” The composure you had always displayed in front of the media was long gone, and you struggled to find the right words to say in response to such an uncomfortable question. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixated on you while that journalist watched you with an inspective expression on his face, just waiting for the moment when you break – wanting you to lose control so that he could have the reaction he needed to write his article.

And all of a sudden, you were back in your childhood home, standing in the living room with your head hung low, fighting back tears as your father unleashed his wrath at you over the smallest, most trivial things. “What’re you crying for, huh? You want me to give you something to cry about?” he would say to you, his voice harsh and venomous as he screamed out insults that scarred your fragile little heart.

Then you were back in your grade school classroom, standing in front of the whole class and staying completely silent after your teacher assigned you the speech topic “My dad is my hero”. Your classmates looked at you as if you had grown a second head, confused by the way you were struggling to speak about a topic they could so easily blabber on for hours. You just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything – your dad was never your hero, he was a distant stranger who struck fear within you whenever he was around.

Then you were back in the bedroom at your new home, reading the birthday card that your dad had sent to you a month late. Written in the top left corner of the page was a scribble of your name, completely misspelled. You closed the card with tears brimming in your eyes, knowing that your existence was slowly beginning to fade from your father’s memories. You tried to remember what his voice sounded like, his calloused hands, his boisterous laughter on the rare days when he wasn’t screaming profanities at you and your mother, and then you realized that he was beginning to fade from yours, and it had felt so, so painful.

Blinking away the hectic memories, you were quickly dragged back to the reality of the press conference. Everyone was still waiting for your response, and the reporter continued to wait for you to crumble under pressure, but all you wanted to do was to run out of the room and hide from people’s blazing eyes, to not have the world criticize you on how you dealt with your family trauma.

“I think that is an absolutely unprofessional question to ask if I am being honest.” Max’s stern voice finally broke the silence, and you were still attempting to process the situation when he continued to chastise the overstepping journalist with an irritated scowl, “The focus of the press conference is to discuss the races and the drivers’ performances on the track, not to delve into people’s personal matter and bring up their family situations which clearly do not have any relevance to the sport.”

The Dutch driver had always been brutally honest, never afraid to speak his mind and call out the press for their bullshit, and this was no exception. Having a complicated relationship with his father himself, he knew the hardships of being in your situation and struggling with toxic family dynamics, and he experienced first-hand how the media loved exploiting such issues for the sake of a story. More importantly, you were his friend, and he would do anything to defend you.

You exchanged thankful glances with the driver next to you, feeling the warmth that blossomed over your heart when Max placed his hand over your trembling ones beneath the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze in a way that meant “Don’t worry. I got your back”.

Upon hearing what Max had to say, the reporter was quick to defend himself. “I was merely hoping to get some insights on whether or not the recent rumors had affected her performance on the track. That’s all,” he attempted to reason, trying to rationalize his intrusive question but was interrupted by another driver who frankly also had enough.

“I think everybody in this room is well aware that is not your intention,” Charles spoke up from his seat, staring at the lying journalist with a tight-lipped smile that was far from friendly. Being one of your closest friends on the grid, Charles was also no stranger to your father’s abusive tendencies and knew how tough it was for you to open up to him about such horrible memories. To see the press tried to take advantage of your vulnerability and blatantly lie about their ill intention sickened him, and he was not going to just sit and watch it happen.

The McLaren driver sitting beside him nodded as he let out a light chuckle, “Yeah I mean – I’m literally an idiot at reading the room but even I can tell that getting racing insights was not your only intention, mate.” The audacity some of these journalists and reporters had was astounding, thinking they could get away with asking disrespectful questions just because of their job titles. When it came to snapping back at their baleful antics, Lando did it once on camera with his iconic “Who are you?” and he would certainly do it again.

Carlos couldn’t help but smirk at Lando's cleverness – masking his reproval at the journalist with a self-deprecating joke. When his attention landed on the audience seated before him, he allowed himself to enjoy the caught-off-guard look on the journalist's now reddened face. “Serves him right for asking stupid questions,” Carlos muttered in a hushed voice just loud enough for himself to hear before turning his head to catch your eyes, shooting you a quick smile as a sign of support. You returned the kind gesture, thankful that your friends were standing by your side when you needed help.

As the journalist busied himself with trying to recollect his composure, an awkward silence hung upon the room once again. That was when Daniel perked up from his seat, the usual cheerful smile on his face as he proceeded to do what he did best – easing the tense atmosphere and diffusing the tension with a touch of humour. “Well, I can totally affirm that Lando can be an idiot sometimes,” he joked while grinning mischievously at the papaya driver, and the mood in the room visibly lightened as a few reporters laughed at his playful words.

“But on a more serious note though, I do believe it’s important to remember that drivers are also human beings, and we all have our own struggles and difficulties both on and off track. It’s crucial to respect drivers’ boundaries and not exploit their personal struggles, and our sole focus should always be on the sport and racing,” Daniel voiced out respectfully, emphasizing the one thing that people always seemed to forget – that drivers deserved privacy and owed nobody any explanations on their personal lives, even if they lived under the spotlight.

Oscar and Pierre who were seated at the further end of the table also nodded at Daniel’s resonating words, expressing their agreement on the importance of maintaining a respectful and uplifting environment for all drivers. “What are your thoughts, y/n?” A female reporter in the crowd raised the question, subtly giving you an encouraging smile as she steered the attention back to you, offering you the chance to speak your truth and address the situation directly.

The fear and dread within you slowly dissipated, replacing them was the heartwarming gratitude at your fellow drivers who showed no hesitation in defending you in the face of intrusive questioning. It was then that you realized you were never alone in this journey, that the other drivers on the grid were not only your competitors but your family who understood what you had gone through and would unconditionally have your back.

It was their reassuring glances, their wholehearted support, and their willingness to stand up for you that enveloped you with the strength and courage needed to finally speak up for yourself. “I would like to start off by thanking all the drivers here with me, and thank you to the journalist for that rather personal question,” you spoke clearly at your microphone, your voice emboldened by the newly found determination as you watched the journalist shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“While I do appreciate the public’s concern regarding my family issues, I would prefer to keep my personal life private. The decision to distance myself from my father to prioritize my well-being and emotional health is not something I regret doing, and it is not fair for people outside my family who don’t understand the complexities of our relationship to make assumptions on the matter.”

Taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts, you made the closing remarks to your statement, “Which is why I kindly ask for your understanding and space moving forward, to respect the privacy of not only me but everybody on the grid and allow us to deal with our personal matter privately, and ultimately create a respectful community within Formula 1.”

You looked around the room when you had finally finished speaking, meeting the eyes of your fellow drivers and the rows of reporters sitting before you. Your hands were still shaking from the nerves that pulsated through you, but a firm squeeze of Max’s hand pulled you back to the present before you could begin spiraling. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said with a gentle smile.

The media training sessions had come in handy once again, and you managed to address the situation in a graceful manner without revealing more details than you were comfortable sharing while also highlighting the importance of personal boundaries in the world of motorsports. “Thank you, y/n,” the previous female reporter nodded at you with a proud smile, glad that you put those unprofessional reporters who had no sense of boundaries back in their place.

Among the sea of cameras and eager reporters who could so easily expose the vulnerabilities of the drivers with a simple flick of their pens, some suddenly found themselves becoming the subject of such exposure, called out for their prying questions and insatiable need to twist people’s words for a click-worthy story.

It was evident that what you and the other drivers said had struck something within them as they silently began reflecting on their roles and responsibilities as reporters, and perhaps remembering the reason why they had chosen journalism in the first place – to report the factual truth to the public, or to fabricate things in exchange for views and attention?

The press conference proceeded to continue, but the shift in the atmosphere was apparent when journalists asked their questions with more sensitivity and introspection, mentioning topics that genuinely mattered instead of blindly chasing exclusive headlines. When the conference finally ended, you and all the drivers collectively exuded a breath of relief, feeling a weight being lifted off your shoulders now that the far-from-enjoyable media day was over.

As you exited the room and were away from the cameras and people, you turned around and gave your friends an appreciative smile. “Thank you all… for standing up for me.” You must have sounded like you were close to tears because Daniel began cooing at you teasingly as if he were comforting a crying child, “Aww… don’t worry about it, kiddo.”

Charles leaned forward to ruffle your hair almost like what an older brother would, and he said to you tenderly, “We’re a team, and we’ll always have your back.” You were not going to cry initially, but now you weren’t so sure. At that moment, you had felt so loved, so supported, and it made you want to hide under the covers and bawl your eyes out from the rush of emotions that crashed over you.

Your friends, understanding the depths of your emotions, gathered around to offer you their words of encouragement and gentle pats on your back. “I love you guys, really…” you whispered quietly, looking at them with such sincerity and gratitude. How lucky were you to be able to have these people as your competitors, your friends, your found family?

“Who wants to go and eat because I’m actually starving,” Lando exclaimed as he began walking in the direction of the restaurants, and a few of the drivers tailed behind him as they joined in on the rant about how hungry they were. You watched them with an overwhelming sense of fondness, and when Max reached out his hand for you to take, you gladly accepted it.

Listening to the light-hearted banter and laughs that filled the air with your best friend right next to you, you knew that this was exactly where you belonged. Not in the tiny living room with your father screaming at you, not in the classroom with the kids who didn’t understand what you had been through, not in the bedroom where you cried over your fading memories with your father, but right here – with your favourite people who would always be there to fight your battles with you.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #f1 drivers x reader

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drak3n · 10 months

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VETERINARIAN!SATORU

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, loss of a pet, poisoning, smut, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy and children, dad!gojo, this one’s kinda sad but it ends well i promise!!

sena’s note: i was torn between dentist or vet!gojo and then i was like… all animal-loving men can get it and so can gojo.

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ VET!SATORU who had studied and graduated abroad, having finished his studies with excellent grades and a bright future ahead of him

➩ VET!SATORU who had a hell lot of patients, and who was aware that over half of them were pets owned by ladies yearning to see the attractive young doc in scrubs, which he couldn’t blame them for

➩ VET!SATORU who never rejected new patients even when his assistants complained multiple times about how overbooked the calendar always was, because to him, all that mattered was to nurse all furry little babies back to health

➩ VET!SATORU who was about to close the clinic one evening, his assistants all having left long ago, just to hear the sounds of faint footsteps rushing to approach the clinic

“please, please help him! i— he’s been poisoned, i couldn’t—”

your sobs were cut off by satoru immediately unlocking the door he had locked seconds ago, and he tenderly took the faint cocker spaniel from your shaking arms. he was barely breathing, and foaming at the mouth.

“miss, try to calm down,” he told you calmly, pointing at one of the chairs in the treatment room when he saw how distraught you were. he would love to cheer you up right now, but time was critical. very much so. “please sit down. i’ll do anything i can.”

you mumbled prayers under your breath as you watched satoru checking your baby’s vitals, injecting apomorphine intravenously to induce vomiting. but it was too late.

➩ VET!SATORU who spent the next few hours in the clinic, watching you break down over your best friend’s loss as you fondled and kissed him, unable to let go; who despite loving his profession so dearly, couldn’t help but loathe it at times like these

➩ VET!SATORU who felt incredibly guilty watching you leave with the unmoving body of your senior dog’s in your arms after you told him you’d be burying him in your parents’ house garden

➩ VET!SATORU who couldn’t really sleep after that, his mind occupied with the images of you desperately trying to save your pawed friend and who grieved the loss of a companion from your teenage years

➩ VET!SATORU who took in two puppies who had been left in a box in front of the clinic, both pretty shades of brown, one of which had the same slightly curled fur as the dog that had slipped from his fingers and he had failed to save

➩ VET!SATORU who walked into the clinic one morning, greeting all waiting patients and their owners enthusiastically, just to pause when he sighted you standing at the counter

➩ VET!SATORU who called you inside first and watched through shaded glasses as you handed him a bag, your eyes dampening when you stared at the table your dog had taken his last breath on

“i forgot to thank you for your services and how you tried everything to save him,” you said softly, voice wavering, “i will pay for it before leaving, i just wanted to give you this.” he swiftly shook his head no, hesitantly accepting the bag to take a look inside. it was a box of chocolates and a bag of dog treats.

“these were his favorites,” you pointed out, chuckling nostalgically, “used to gobble them up like there was no tomorrow. i figured that the other girls and boys who come here might want to try what my boy loved.”

➩ VET!SATORU who excused himself for a second and returned with two tiny pups in his arms who wagged their tails at the charming young man, watching the way your eyes lit up at both of them

“some vile person just abandoned them in front of the clinic. they resemble your baby, don’t you think? i was going to keep both because i never give any animal away, but if you—”

“yes, absolutely!”

you carefully accepted one of the pups, cooing softly when it yipped and snuggled into your touch. satoru just smiled when you then stared at the other pup, seeing the obvious resemblance between them.

“i wouldn’t want to seperate them, though.”

he fell in love with you at that very moment.

“this little, handsome buddy is welcome to come and visit his lovely sister anytime.” he was happy that he finally got to see you smile and laugh.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew that you were the one when he saw you tending to your new pup with the utmost care, always eager to learn more about how how to handle and raise a puppy correctly

➩ VET!SATORU who already had a little family with you, because was there anything more intimate and sweet than having pets together? — but who couldn’t help but wish to have children with you as well

➩ VET!SATORU who was thrilled to find out the feeling was mutual

“wha— you’re off the pill?”

satoru was in the middle of fucking into you skillfully when you confessed it to him. you whimpered at his sudden lack of movement, nodding bashfully. “i know this is not the right time, but—,” you babbled, taking his hand to guide it to your lower belly, “‘m ready, satoru.”

his mind wandered to you swollen with your beautiful kids, tits leaking with your nourishing, sweet milk and face gifted with a natural pregnancy glow — not that you needed it.

“cum inside, ‘toru,” you whined against the pretty veterinarian’s kisses in-between his hips snapping against yours, “make me a mommy. gimme all of it.”

there was no way in hell that satoru wasn’t going to knock you up after this. and put a pretty little ring on your finger, of course.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew he had all he wanted as he saw you walk into the clinic a year later to visit your husband with your tiny babygirl on your arm, a spitting image of her father, and your two former pups on a leash, now grown in size as they wagged their tails wildly upon seeing the tall man in scrubs

➩ VET!SATORU who wondered if you’d say yes to a second child…

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violet-eng · 11 months

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Neuvillette and his arranged marriage with fem!reader - NSFW

Summary: so... Furina is such a gossipy and she's kinda boring so she wants Neuvillette to marry to some random girl that can be a challenge for him... would he like this traveler?

TW: smut. Has a plot. Kinda angst? p i v. Breeding kink, praising. Unprotected sex with this daddy judge. I think that's all... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE JUST KEEP SCROLLING.

🎨: @zlidbhypy/@zljdbhypy

💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

The judge had lived long enough to be carried away by appearances, his image in society was expected of a man with his profession, with his knowledge and his stature. However, in the eyes of Lady Furina, as much a lover of spectacle and scandal as possible, the great judge needed a slightly more modern image to present to the citizens of Fontaine-and perhaps to bring a little gossip as well.

The idea had consumed her so much that at the moment she met you she could think of nothing else but arranging an engagement with Monsieur Neuvillette. You were the living image of what she was looking for: a young woman of society, a foreigner with a wide knowledge of the vast continent and above all, ambitious.

There was a flash that Lady Furina highlighted in you, a furious soul difficult to tame, a challenge for the great judge. How fun it would be to see that: the distinguished gentleman try to control the disdain of his future wife, lover of saucers with spicy mixes, so friendly to those with vision Pyro... almost as contrary to him.

You met Neuvillette a day before the wedding, when Lady Furina had given him the wonderful news that he would marry you. He could not refuse, not the Archon, and she was aware of that-that made the matter more fun.

Neuvillette looked serene during the announcement, did not give the Archon the joy of a grimace of disgust... of course not, he was not like that...

On the wedding day rain fell so much as to drown the neighboring nations, tormenting those present of the ceremony. Monsieur Neuvillette was outside the compound, admiring the horizon, yearning for the freedom he possessed years before. To this had its existence been reduced? To be a puppet for the entertainment of the Archon? To tie himself for life to a woman he didn’t even know? If only he could return to his old form... spread his wings and get out of that place...

"The rain is wonderful," you exclaimed beside him, tearing from his chest an impression he managed to hide. "I hope the tears of the Hydro dragon are of happiness for the wedding and not of misery".

"They’re just legends, stories for children," he said, though an inch of him, deep down, was delighted by the idea that unlike the rest of Fontaine’s inhabitants, you didn’t dislike the rain... the one he was provoking...

"All legends have some truth in them," you whispered, giving him a sincere smile.

The ceremony had been short because of the rain, yet your happiness was overflowing. Your dress was drenched, your hair was alike... Everything was ruined, Lady Furina kept saying it, and yet you seemed to be living the best day of your life. Neuvillette could not look away from you at any moment, you had bewitched him, a single phrase had sufficed to achieve that...

The room was spacious, exquisitely decorated, illuminated to depth, the details and finishes seemed measured with hard effort... very much like the great judge. You had been unwise to ask if you had separate rooms, that had upset him for a moment... You certainly didn’t seem to have the same scruples as him.

You opened the window of the room, resting your elbows on the frame and sucking the dew that the rain brought with it. Neuvillette stood still in his place, looking at your figure, analyzing every detail of your silhouette, trying to perceive your essence, your energy... There was definitely something special about you.

"Can I come out?" you asked, were you asking permission?

"You must not ask for my consent to be free in the place" actually, he did not think it proper from you to ask permission for something… he perceived you from the first instant as a free being in tune with nature.

"It’s my way of asking you to go out with me to enjoy the rain," you said, approaching him and extending your hand.

The thick drops of water hit the roofs, the fountain of the courtyard was about to overflow with water, the surface covered of the leaves that the wind had brought with it. You got rid of your coat and your shoes, went into the fountain and sat in the middle, above the water level, your legs dipping, you picked up the dress on your knees. The fabric was thin, almost transparent now that you were soaked and uncovered. Neuvillette scanned the surroundings, hoping no one would look at you, you were his wife... was he jealous? No, it was a simple sense of duty now that he was a married man...

"Come closer" you said from your position, pointing your finger at the place in front of you. Neuvillette, almost hypnotized by your loud attitude, dragged his feet towards your spot, sitting across from you, likewise, his legs underwater. The familiarity of the rain on the current that had formed under his feet was pleasant, almost satisfactory, so much so that it incited him to move his hands on the surface of the water, forming figures that allowed his hydro vision. You smiled at the small spectacle he displayed for you, admiring the sublime movement of his hands, the way his fingers flexed on the leaves and the drops of water ran down his hands.

You leaned toward him, taking him by surprise, joining your lips with his. He did not turn away, but, on the contrary, he dropped his hand against your neck, drawing you closer to him, tasting the nectar of your lips and your tongue.

"I want something to be clear" you dictated separating yourself from him, "we’ll have children... not because the charlatan Archon wants it for her entertainment, no... we will have children because we both want it, it was clear?".

For all the Archons... those words coming out of your mouth, pure poison, so hostile to the Archon, calling her in a way that he could never, with your face framed by your soaked locks and your lips swollen by the kiss... There was nothing he could want but a woman like you.

The matter of your affinity for the falling flood, added to your folly of calling the archon such a derogatory name... you were an interesting, exceptional creature whose behavior went beyond his control and knowledge. You were a challenge... his challenge... and his enthusiasm grew in his chest as well as in his pants.

You had both returned to the room in sultry form, between kisses and gasps, getting rid of your clothes on the way. He cornered you on the wall of the entrance, his hand in fist resting above your head, his forehead against yours, the other hand holding your chin, joining his eyes. Neuvillette’s chest rose strongly, seeking air, bewildered by the growing ecstasy, the desire among you that was born.

Taking you by the waist, he turned you against the wall, your face crashing against the cold marble and your palms resting at your sides. You felt his breathing on your neck, his chest against your back, his hands sliding over your curves, right to your hips, over your panties. You let out a soft moan as you felt the fabric slip under your legs and fall to your ankles.

"Monsieur..." you whispered trembling as the cold pouring through the room brushed your thighs and bare ass.

"You don’t look as bold as you did a few minutes ago," he whispered... low, almost growling, you swore he was smiling, you sensed it in his voice.

"It’s... just... ah~" you cut the phrase in half when you felt him slip into you, separating your folds, forcing you to suck it. Your hands in fist, your hips rising, trying to avoid its passage inside you, your shoulders gathering at the sensation that flooded your center, your sex.

"Monsieur~" you moaned, your forehead wet against the marble, your hands scratching the wall looking for something to soothe the burning between your legs, the feeling of its length between your damp walls.

You didn’t think the judge would be so vocal. When he slipped into you, he grunted, so pleasantly your legs seemed to melt. You felt the breath of his groan in your ear, your name coming from his lips.

"So soft" he whispered, resting his hands on yours, his forehead on your shoulder, "so tight..." continued advancing, rising to the bottom, "so mine"...

Neuvillette fucked you against that wall as if he was in heat-and perhaps he was-as if you were going to escape at any time from his grip, though you couldn’t.

The moans and gasps were embarrassing, thanks to the rain they did not cross the walls, the sound of wet skin crashing during each penetration was burning, lustful. The words that came out of the judge’s mouth every time you girded your limb were a sea of incongruities, just as the phrases that your mouth dropped when he caressed your clitoris, that little lump had become his favorite toy.

The onslaught was strong, your breasts pounding against the wall every time he burst into you, rubbing against your delicate interior, which seemed made for him.

"You take me so well," he groaned, as he continued his beat against you, your breasts rising and falling down the wall. You were trapped between the wall and the monster of pleasure the judge had become.

"I will fill you with my seed, I swear..." he gasped again, his voice raspy, with flashes of hunger and lust.

"Neuvillette~" you let out a high-pitched moan, had touched your point, that felt so fucking good, the way he arched to hit that gummy dot on your cervix. He kept going, and kept going, you didn’t want him to stop. Fuck, he was so good at it, who’d say a gentleman of his countenance could be taking you like an animal in heat.

He kept hitting that delicious spot inside you, stroking your sensitive organ, one, two... three times, you suddenly felt a knot forming in your belly.

"Oh my~... don’t stop Neuvillette~..." you begged, eyes closed, lips separated by groans. The sound of his gasps flooding your eardrum... you both were close…

His onslaught lost rhythm, the intensity was almost unbearable, he came out one last time to get into you, fucking you so hard that you felt your orgasm burst and you let out a scream. He would not take long to reach his climax similarly, unloading all his seed inside you

The bed was warm, you needed it after what happened... Neuvillette lay beside you, caressing your cheek, watching the way you fell asleep.

He looked out the window, the rain had stopped. He was completely happy... so long ago that he did not feel the fullness he had at the time...

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, curling your head in his chest, feeling the warmth of your gentle breathing. He closed his eyes, falling asleep beside you, yearning to tell you one day about his identity... someday…

#genshin smut #genshin #genshin impact #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette smut #genshin impact smut #smut

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goldsbitch · 8 months

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Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Lando can't stand Y/N, the first female driver in F1. He also can't stand not having her with her clothes on.

warnings: please don't be offended by weak ass feminism debate, swear words, minors do not interact, just generally don't take this one too seriously, smut (that's what we came for)

He radiated stupidity. Reckless, annoying, careless and just plain stupid. Blood boiled hard and fast in Y/N when he entered the room. Cocky smile, as if he was the shit. And those poor fans did not even realize, because his PR managers worked around the clock to stop the scandals getting out and to remain his bubbly, down-to-earth image he seemed to hold in general public. Now, she never doubted his driving genius. It was honest respect on that part. No, this was about everything else. Even the way he grew his "so called" beard annoyed her.

She radiated arrogance. Being the first female driver on the grid had everyone looking differently at her, as it would be the opposite if she was just another rookie driver. He could not stand that. It felt strangely misogynistic. But what sent him to levels of annoyance he had not discovered prior to meeting her, was how she did absolutely nothing about this. Danced around as if she did not see it. But Lando could see through her, she was a calculating bitch that knew exactly what was happening.

It's not like either of them got it wrong really. Lando had his personality that did not correlate with the desired persona the public wanted him to maintain. For as long as he remembered, he had to be a grown up, missing his young adult experiences completely. Sometimes, it just got the better of him. Lando was not exactly proud of that or anything. Y/N was indeed calculating. But it would be hard to argue that she could have chosen not to do that - yet, the world was simply not ready for any kind of female driver to enter the grid. She had to be smarter than an average rookie. There is a possibility that this was all just in her head, but it was hard to prove it at this point.

They avoided talking to each other like they would avoid the plague. Lando felt like all the years of media training lead to the moments where they shared the interview room. Their disenchantment with each other was not exactly a known thing, they were deceitful enough to do keep it between themselves. Well, the more observant drivers and members of their team were well aware of the truth. There was not a single member of the close inner circle that would dare to speak about how when these two had to share the pre race interviews, it would be the driest interview of them all. Frankly, drivers dreaded that. Daniel would be the one to try and break the ice. George found it mildly amusing. Max could not give two shits about them.

And to the luck of everyone involved, there was Lando, set next to Alex Albon, who was sat next to Y/N. He sighed heavily before taking hold of the microphone.

First interviewer asked about the lasted updates on Y/N Aston Martin car. The second one went to Lando, with a request to address the bad strategy the team had on the last Grand Prix, which he answered very diplomatically.

Third interviewer asked Y/N on whether the talks have started regarding her contract for the upcoming season.

"Yes, we are talking about that. I love racing and I'm planning on staying here," she laughed lightly. "I want to be here to...possibly to inspire and attract young girls, same as those like Fernando was a role model to both Alex and Lando. The female audience of F1 is growing and that is absolutely amazing. And perhaps now will the female fans have an opportunity to cheer for one of their own."

"May I have a question?" Lando entered the chat. His tone was indicating fire being lit within him and him intending to spread it wide. The game was on. Y/N tensed up. Alex smiled nervously.

Both Lando and Y/N shot a look at the interview moderator, who was prepared for many scenarios, but not this one exactly. Once Lando received an unsure nod, he continued. "We both know the numbers, we sit on similar meetings. The percentage of female audience is now nearing almost half, is that correct?"

"Well, we are nowhere near that - more like 30-40%"

"Right. And this trend has started prior to you joining the grid, right?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Are you saying that the female viewers did not have anyone to connect with before that?"

"I'd be brave enough to assume so. Where are you heading?"

Alex wanted to stop them, he shot looks to multiple people who had the power to end this. Members present from both teams woke up from their slow mundane afternoon. But the conversation was too fast for anyone to interrupt.

"So, what was the motivation of the female viewers to watch F1? Why were they watching?"

"Um, well the sport is fascinating and can capture one. The quality of our media teams has risen greatly, social media and-"

"Yes. So are you saying that young boys and teenagers were watching this for a different reason that girls and any other genders?"

"Like I was saying, it might be hard to connect. Young boys and teenagers can relate and even imagine themselves as the future F1 driver."

"So why do, in your opinion, little girls and female teenagers watch races? Are you saying that prior to your start, their reasons were less valid? Less noble? Does miss misogyny over here think that female audience is now validated due to her representation in the sport?"

The room went silent. Y/N took a deep breath and without missing a beat she replied.

"I'm sorry, there must have been something foul in your cornflakes this morning. After all, even in these progressive times, some of the people involved did not get the memo about the way how to interact with the fanbase in a healthy manner. It must be hard hard to think straight and not draw over-the-top conclusions when one's mind is stuck in an endless cycle of "Hello, gorgeous" and "Sure, I'll text you back.""

Alarmed looks were shared accros the room. Alex tried to laugh it off. The moderator ended the discussion. The pair kept staring at each other, until their prompted their exits orchestrated by their team.

Asshole. Obnoxious idiot. She wanted to slap him. The social media was on fire, this topic clearly resonating among fans. It was clear the opinions were divided and this was just not good to have on your track record. She was mad at herself as well. Got caught up like a fly to a spiderweb. He won this one. She'll just have to beat him during the race or shoot him in the leg at the next opportunity.

"Stay true to your beliefs" was the caption under his newly posted photo. Smiling as ever. Some photographer with under-appreciated talent managing to capture him in the perfect light. Total thirst trap. Her PR team was figuring out how to salvage this, but everyone knew Lando stuck a good one this time.

But that was not the opinion of the McLaren media team, who really did work their butts off the last few months. This was not good, as his haters were currently busy pointing out holes in his argument, making Y/N the hero they wanted to have. PR team picked the photo of him they had in store in order to play it safe and nonchalantly. Lando got a big threatening talk right after the press conference. McLaren was not letting the word misogyny be connected to their brand. He defended himself for a while, but at the end agreed to avoid bringing these subjects to light prior to the knowledge of the team. In his eyes, she won. He got her free attention. The nickname miss misogyny was not going to stick. The only thing this brough him was a headache and built up anger.

She was bursting with anger and was not about to leave it in for herself. "You can stick this bullshit up you ass, Lando."

"Don't assume I like the same things you do," was his immediate response.

Confidentiality. That was the only thing she believed he could uphold. Both of them had too much to loose.

They were bad for each other. Bringing out the worst traits, putting others in discomfort and creating drama out of nowhere. But the once the night covered the daily routines and worries, the truth would start crawling out. Once the chequered flag got packed up after a race, it was time for a parade of red flags to begin.

It was suppose to be a one time mistake. Party that go out of hand. Club bathroom sex that was better than they'd be willing to admit. They never spoke of it. Nobody knew.

Like magnets they circled towards each other on the quiet nights on the road. Always her place, never his. As if she'd make the effort to come toward him. Like he would ever let her invade his private safe space. It worked for them, transforming the anger into rough bites and hickeys. Lando enjoyed leaving them on her, just at the line where he knew she'd have to think about how to cover them up and made sure she never made any mark on him. Hate fucking, that's what that was.

Once again, his hot breath cut through the crispy Monaco night air coming from the opened window of her bedroom. He had her handcuffed to the bed side and legs wrapped around his toned torso. He was driving her crazy, not letting her stay on top this time, robbing her of the pleasure of watching him submit to her moves and direction. He watched attentively, making sure he changed his tempo whenever she was about to climax. She was not one to enjoy delayed gradification, not when this obnoxious idiot was watching her and having fun with it. One thing he had to admit was that she was fucking hot, mainly in the way how she able to carry herself around. From the first moment he had the misfortune to see her in person, it had been the one thought unable to leave his mind. What did she look like when she was just about to come? Was she the one to make any sounds? Did she like it rough or soft? Would she be able to dominate him? During the day, he let his frustrations out verbally, during the night he thrusted into her as if there was no tomorrow. Like a drug addict getting his hit. She was even more mad at him when he was fucking her. Because it was just so good. They had the same rhythm and their bodies spoke in a language no one would have understood anyway. So she just surrendered. It drove her crazy, not being on the top. He licked and bit her nipples and did forbidden things - like stopped fucking her out of nowhere and buried his head in her waist, slowly twisting his tongue around her clit. When he felt like she adjusted to that, he continued back with thrusting in her. He moved so fast that she started get dizzy from the motion, the heavenly kind of dizzy. Lando watched her like and animal would observe his prey. Not often did he manage to get completely under his control, but tonight was one of the precious days he'd be recalling in the shower days after. He delayed his own orgasm for as long as he could, but there was a point where he just gave in and released him into the condom. There was always a hint of disappointment in the joyous moment. His darkest wish was to have her walk the day after with his cum dripping out of her. She was his little work slut, his nemesis, his Vegas girl.

Y/N never wanted to cuddle afterwards. She appreciated that Lando always swiftly got up and left without a word. Because what if he had spoken, what if the oxytocin started flowing in and she'd loose her guard and get herself in even bigger of a mess than this little game was. She was the first female driver. There were things she had to prove to the world. Fucking one of the other drivers was not one of them.

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dude-boi · 1 year

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Fantasies.

6.6k words.

Summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, should not be thinking of you the way he has been, shamelessly. What happens when he grows tired of your incessant teasing?

Warnings: Not proofread. No Ellie! SMUT. Hefty age gap (Joel is around 50, the reader is around 22)... unprotected p in v... praise, fingering, mirror sex, slight masturbation. Also, the reader has light insomnia. Tbh, I want to make a second part to this but we'll see.

--------------------- Joel Miller. Your dad's best friend/ business partner. Your dad and he work together on some business, one you had no idea about (though you rightfully assumed smuggling). But you didn't dare ask any questions, because it kept you all safe and kept a hefty amount of rations on the table. He's been around for as long as you can remember, watching you grow up into the young woman you are now. You both didn't talk much, but you were used to seeing him around all the time, your dad couldn't do anything without him.

So, when you found yourself thinking of Joel at 2 A.M with your hand between your thighs and soft pants escaping your lips, you couldn't help but feel a little ashamed, even if you were of age. In all twenty-two years of your life, you'd always have some kind of interest towards Joel. It started out innocently, how any little girl would have a wholesome infatuation towards a someone who'd show her attention. But it developed into something else, something more taboo. It felt wrong to think of him like that, to imagine it was his thick, calloused fingers pumping into you instead of your own, to imagine him taking your innocence, your purity, your virginity. The thought of someone so close to you, someone so much older taking care of you and making you feel good just turned you on so much more. He wasn't an ugly man, by any means. In fact, he might've been the hottest man you've ever seen. Everything about him was just right. His salted hair, his gruff beard, his nose, the scar on it, his built arms, the way he stays close to you when your dad forces you to go exploring with him, his accent. Oh god the accent, it just ties everything up with a little bow.

As you curled your fingers in and out of you, you couldn't help but imagine Joel calling you darlin' or sugar, little nicknames he'd given you through your childhood. Images of his arms flashed through your head. Images of him sitting here, fingering you as he praised you, calling you baby girl, and saying how good you're doing. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, cumming around your own fingers as you softly gasped out his name, a mantra of Joel, Joel, Joel filling your own ears.

The euphoria you felt after was indescribable, but it was tainted with the feeling of guilt, but it made it all the more delicious.

-----

You weren't surprised to find Joel sitting at your breakfast table the very next morning. He was over at your house, a lot. It was a casual thing, he'd be on the couch with your dad discussing work stuff and spend the night in the guest room next to yours. A part of you had silently wished he could hear you touching yourself, mewling and calling out to him. The idea of getting caught made it all the more better.

So seeing him eating a bowl of cereal in a dark brown t-shirt at 8:45 in the morning didn't phase you at all, but it did make you self conscious as you were suddenly hyper-aware of your body in a tank top and shorts. And clearly so was Joel, the way his gaze hardened as his eyes lingered. He looked up at you through his eyebrows, his spoon just leaving his mouth as he swallowed.

"Mornin'," he told you, finishing up his food. He wasn't a man of many words, his eyes did the work for him. And right now, he couldn't keep them to himself. You smiled after remembering what you did last night, thinking of him while you did.

Keeping eye contact, you replied with a soft grin. "Hey, Joel." Your stomach churned and stirred as you thought about what would happen if he found out about your... fantasies. And your fears were apparent on your face as you poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen.

Joel noticed your discomfort, and he decided to pry. "Ya' look rough." He raised a brow in curiosity. His arm flexed as he stood up with his bowl in hand, walking towards you in the kitchen. He was putting away his dish. You chuckled nervously, thinking back to your scandalous events the previous night. You felt your face grow warm. "Gee thanks." You replied in a sarcastic yet monotone tone. "Just worn out, didn't sleep till like 2."

"Well, that's no good. You're gon' be tired today then." He tutted, sounds of tsk tsk tsk leaving his lips as he internally reprimanded you for not taking care of yourself.

You tilted your head as he turned around to face you, he leaned against the counter too. He dried his wet hands on his tee. "Today? What's today?" It sounded like there were plans you were unaware of.

"Daddy didn't tell you?" He crossed his arms as he sighed, looking at you. You both were staring at each other and if you didn't know any better, you would've sworn he looked you up and down.

You shook your head, still confused. "No?"

Shaking his head, Joel told you about the plan your dad had come up with. "'He wanted me to take you out today, says you can't be home for a couple hours." You were confused, why couldn't you be home?

"Why not? Is this work-related?" You asked, knowing if it was, you would go with Joel no questions asked. You would've gone with him regardless.

He nodded a nod of affirmation, clearing up your doubts. Your father would have people over to discuss business or to give things to people and he didn't want you around for it, valid. You sighed, wanting to have a lazy day, but you didn't complain.

"Where are they, anyway?" You noticed how you hadn't seen them all morning.

"They had to run out and grab a few things f' the meeting." It annoyed you how your parents would always meet with smuggling clients in your own home. Whatever.

He had told you to go and get ready and you obliged.

"Where are we going?" You questioned, swearing it would be your last question.

"Just out, drive around."

You nodded again before leaving the kitchen. You could barely keep it together. The second you turned around, you bit your lip to stay quiet, afraid that you would scream if you didn't. He had that effect on you. But you were unaware of the way Joel adjusted his jeans as he watched you stride back up the stairs in those tiny shorts.

You took a quick shower, slipped on a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt that was a size too small for you, because God knows your true intentions with Joel. You paused in front of the vanity that lay across the foot of your bed. You brushed your hair down and smoothed your shirt. You just wanted to look good for him, was it a crime? As you trotted back downstairs, he looked up at you from the couch and bit the inside of his cheek. You almost missed his action, but you didn't as you bit back a sly smile.

His eyes shifted around the room before he stood up and grabbed his flannel. You both stepped out to the front door to slip on your shoes. You clung onto Joel's arm for stability as you put your boots on, he clenched his jaw. He had to control himself. Joel unlocked his truck and opened the passenger side door for you, what a gentleman. Before you knew it, you both were off.

A CD played quietly as you both wallowed in comfortable silence, it was a silence you'd grown to love and look forward to over the years. He wasn't a very vocal person, but you didn't mind that. The windows were open and the sun beamed down onto your face, illuminating your features softly. You looked over to Joel who had one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. He looked tantalizing, provocative, almost. The way his jaw was clenched, how the top two buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned, how he looked so concentrated as his chest rose and fell, the way his hair got all fluffed up by the wind, the way he tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the song. His fingers. Those same large fingers you'd dream about. The scene was almost pornographic, you wanted to scream.

You ogled him, and it didn't go unnoticed. He peeked over at you and then looked back to the road. "What?" You heard him, but you weren't listening. His words sounded like muffled noises as you waded in your explicit daydream. Joel put his left on the steering and waved his right in front of your face. That snapped you out of it.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry-" He raised a brow and you stared at him, a sultry stare. "Just tired," You gave a half-assed answer, hoping it would please him. Looking back down into your lap, you smoothed down your shirt.

"What're you doing up so late?" he interrogated. It put you in a weird spot. You obviously couldn't tell him what you were actually doing, so you tried your best to tell as much as you can. You would always try to avoid lying to Joel, partially because it made you feel bad but mostly because he could tell. He could read you and your body language too well.

"I don't know. It gets lonely, and I can't sleep. You know, the norm'." You chuckled softly, but you weren't lying. It really does get lonely and there's not much you can do about it. And you've struggled with sleep recently, insomnia creeping up on you with age. You've mentioned it before, but not how it keeps you up for hours.

"You gotta take care of yourself. You're not... a kid anymore." he huffed, he wouldn't say it out loud but he felt this urge, an urge to take care of you and keep you under his wing forever, keep you his girl forever. But he can't do that, can he? How could he feel this kind of way towards his best friends daughter? He would catch his eyes loitering over you when you emerged from your bedroom in your shorts and tee, and he could feel his heart beat every time you looked up at him with soft eyes, thanking him for whatever gesture he'd do for you. Because that's all Joel did, help help help, give give give. Joel felt something for you in a way he didn't think was possible for him ever again. He felt ashamed in the best way possible.

"I've got you, don't I?" You joked, snorting a bit. You peered over at him to see his reaction. His jaw clenched as he forced out a tiny smile ."Uh huh, yeah."

-----

Joel had pulled over for a bit to take a break. You were on some empty bridge over a lake, the scenery was beautiful. He had brought water, which you very desperately needed. The summer heat seared your skin, moisture droplets pooling in the dips of your body.

Your hands found their way to the cupholder by Joel's thigh. Although you wanted to place your hand on his leg and inch it higher, your controlled your urges and grabbed the water bottle instead of his dick. You unscrewed the cap, tilted your head back, and opened your mouth to waterfall the water into your mouth. Joel observed the way you licked your lips before drinking, the way your throat bobbed up and down upon swallowing, the way rogue droplets of water trickled down the corner of your mouth down to your throat, and if they were lucky, into your shirt and onto your chest. You peeked over at Joel. You almost choked on your water after seeing he was staring. A lightbulb flickered above your head as you had what seemed like a great idea. You "accidentally" spilled water onto your shirt and watched it cling to your breasts, the color of your bra fading in slightly.

"Ah shit. I'm sorry-" you apologized before Joel grunted and mumbled incoherently before lifting himself off the seat and reaching into the backseat over the center console. His shirt lifted slightly, revealing the waistband of his boxers under his jeans. He grunted again while he grabbed something and gave it to you, a rag. You thanked him and watched him as your rubbed it against your chest. You decided to have a little fun with it, make it antagonizing, painful. His eyes met yours and he watched as a twinkle of mischief appeared. You hands squeezed the rag as you rubbed it against your body, slowly.

It angered Joel. It angered him in a different way. It angered him to see you sitting here, driving him up a wall when he'd rather he fucking you against one instead. He was angry at the world for making this beautiful girl in front of him his best friend's daughter. What he wouldn't give to just grab your face.

You held back a smirk as you placed the rag on Joel's lap after finishing "drying" yourself. It wasn't very dry obviously, but it was good enough. Still not done, you picked up the bottle again. But this time, you put your mouth on it. Your blushed lips wrapped around the head of the bottle as you took one last gulp as Joel watched your throat bob.

You left a hefty amount for Joel as you pulled it away from your lips, the smallest string of spit connecting to your lips and the bottle. Bringing it back down to hand to him, you bit the inside of your cheek. You noticed how his eyes were already on you before you looked, it made you swell with hope and delusion. But you weren't crazy. He was looking, staring, scanning, analyzing your every move. It was a habit of his, something he'd learn to do when his life was always in danger. But he used it for other purposes, like looking at the beautiful young woman next to him.

He took the bottle from your hand with no words exchanged, your fingers brushing against his momentarily. The contradiction between both of your fingers was almost electric, your soft fingers against his rugged digits, your petite hand against his broad one. His eyes found yours again. He decided to play your little game with you. He watched you intently as he wrapped his lips around the bottle, the bottle you just had your mouth on. His free hand gripped the rag you tossed at him.

He enjoyed this little game you played with him, and this wasn't the first time either. The amount of times you'd brush your knee against his, graze your fingers against his shoulder, look at him pathetically when you were bored. And now that he had the chance to reciprocate it without anyone around, he felt like he could have you wrapped around his little finger. It felt wrong, but he couldn't care less.

You clenched your thighs together as you watched him wrap his chapped lips around your spit-ridden bottle. Did he know what he was doing to you?

Deciding to have mercy on you, he put the bottle back down in the cupholder. Joel got out of the car, his excuse being to get some fresh air, but in reality he needed to adjust his half-hard cock. You threw your head back in the seat and splayed your arm across your face while something between a sigh and a groan exuded out of you. Your thighs instinctively rubbed together in hopes to soothe the dull ache forming. This was probably the hottest thing you've experienced in your entire lifetime, which you thought was embarrassing. Being 22 and a virgin having done absolutely nothing, but Joel having experience made it all the worth while. You would always imagine that he'd take care of you, teach you the ropes, show you how to touch yourself while-

"What happened t' you?" Joel interrupted your thoughts as he popped up at your window. You jumped took your hand off your face, looking to him as your thighs stopped moving.

"Jesus, Joel." You shook your head, a hand resting on your chest.

"Didn't mean to scare ya', pretty."

Pretty.

He must've noticed your reaction with the way he chuckled. It was a deep, guttural sound. He walked around front, grabbing his aching back to get back in the driver seat as you sat up in the seat, embarrassed, somewhat turned on, and ready to go home. Joel glanced at his watch before starting up his truck once more.

"Your daddy should be done now," was all he said before you both drove off to your place of shelter.

-----

That evening was pretty uneventful. After Joel brought you home, you had thanked him with the softest smile and the most twinkling eyes you could conjure up, your last attempt to rile him up. You went up into your room to take a nap until dinner, assuming it would just be you and your parents tonight.

However, that was not the case. Joel was there, he stayed for dinner. On a normal occasion, dinner with Joel made you all giddy and excited, but not today. Not after you saw how Joel reciprocated your stupid little game. It made your stomach churn, in both a good and bad way, you couldn't decide.

At the little circular dining table, Joel took a seat next to you, your mother next him, and your father next to her which brought him seated right next to you. You couldn't help it as your leg bounced, a form of excitement settling in.

Dinner started off normally, passing around food as your father made conversation to Joel about the meeting. Your mother would occasionally include her input, which left you sitting there all quiet.

"He wants to meet again next week. Both of us." Your father voiced to Joel as he nodded, his eyes flickering beside him to look at you. They went on, talking about god knows what and junk you couldn't care less about.

In a world like this it was easy to feel neglected, unseen, lonely. Even with all these people surrounding you. So when your lip twitched while you poked at your food, Joel noticed. He interrupted your dad and mom to reel you into their conversation.

"We had fun today." Joel sounded. His voice was so gruff yet so smooth. "Me and you, right?" He looked up at you through his eyebrows, a thin grin falling upon his lips as he remembered your events of the day.

Caught off-guard, you lifted your head up and looked around the table to see all eyes on you. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Was a beautiful drive." You couldn't care less about the drive, Joel was the only beautiful thing in your eyes for miles.

"Is that right, sweetie? I'm glad it wasn't boring. She didn't bother you, did she Joel?" Your mother smiled warmly at you before turning her attention back to Joel, who seemed to be thinking, reminiscing. A smirk played onto his face as he stared at you and then her.

"Shes a good girl. Not too much." He told her playfully. But he lied, you got him all hot and bothered.

-----

Dinner felt like an eternity. You couldn't even hold your appetite the way Joel made you feel. You wished for it to be over so you could just lock yourself in your room till morning. It felt like a dream, the whole day was absolutely unreal in the best way possible. To make your day even longer, your mother had offered to let Joel stay for the night, again. It's not like he had anywhere better to be. He was like a permanent fixture in your home, he had that designated guest room next to you and everything.

You finished your dinner as soon as possible and tried to leave upstairs when your mother stopped you. "Be polite, could you please clean up the dishes?" she asked you, slightly jerking her head towards Joel to tell you to be a nice host. You spat out a smile and a slightly annoyed nod before you got up to collect plates. Instead of going to Joel first, you picked up your dad's, then your mother's and then Joel's. You leaned over by his shoulder almost into his lap, giving him a slight view of your breasts. He was so close to you, you could smell him and he could smell you. His jaw twitched as he started to grind his teeth. His breath was shallow and he had no expression on his face. Your hair brushed his shoulder as you got back up, giving Joel a cute little smile. He smiled back, but it wasn't genuine, you could tell. He adjusted the napkin on his lap, attempting to hide something.

You turned around and walked back to the kitchen with a little pep in your step, ecstatic that you almost made him break. As soon as you were in the kitchen and away from the table, you let out a snort. Humming, you rinsed and washed each dish slowly, taking your sweet, sweet time. That was until someone had found their way to the kitchen, and that someone was Joel.

You decided to pay no mind to it and continue washing. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, causing you to let go of the dish into the sink. With soapy hands, you balanced yourself by grabbing the ledge behind you.

"The hell ya' think you're doin'?" His expression was unreadable. His teeth were clenched and his brows were furrowed. Even in a moment like this, when his body is almost pressed against yours and your back is digging into the edge of the sink, you still couldn't help but notice how good he looks. The wrinkles and smile lines against his sun kissed skin show cased his life, his experiences, his hardened past.

"What are you talking about?" You shook your head and lied, this was fun. You crossed your wet arms, once again wetting your shirt.

"Oh please. Ya' think I don't know what you're tryin'? Pickin' up the dishes, the water bottle, the shirt. I might be old, but 'm not stupid, darlin'."

Darlin'. You swore if he called you anything else besides your name you would tie your hair up and get on your knees now. You just snorted before turning back around to finish up washing the dishes. Your ass was ghosting against his crotch. He took a step back, angrily. "Joel, please. I haven't done anything. Think your just imagining shit." All you heard was a scoff before he exited the kitchen, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

-----

Around 12 A.M, you were up in your room in a short nightgown, reading some book to get your mind off of things. Today's events were wayyy different than any other interaction with Joel, it kind of excited you. Knowing he was next door just made you more nervous, yet excited.

God you were so turned on, so so riled up. Assuming Joel was asleep, you had tossed your book to the side of your bed and settled against your headboard comfortably. The walls were thin, you knew that. But Joel was an older man, he would sleep through anything. That's what you convinced yourself as you slipped your hand back between your thighs, rubbing softly just like the night before. Soft mewls filled your own ears as the familiar burn in your stomach formed, your fingers rubbing harsh circles on your clit. Taking it further, your slipped a finger inside, a pant leaving your lips.

"Shit... Joel.." You tried so hard to whisper, and you thought you did, until someone knocked on your door. You stopped dead in your tracks, the noise startling you. There was another knock, a bit louder. You slipped out of bed and wiped your sticky hand off on a towel that was hanging on your closet door before going up to open the door.

For fuck's sake. It was Joel. This made your heart sink slightly, what if he had heard? Why was he even awake? Before you could even open your mouth to question him, he pushed past the half-cracked door and shut it behind him, locking it as well.

"What the hell, Joel?" you inquired, angry that you were interrupted and embarrassed to be standing here in your short little nightgown. It made you feel childish.

He didn't say anything, just studied you up and down before taking a step closer, like you both were in the kitchen, bodies pressed up against each other. "Trouble sleepin'?" His face was hard to read. He looked.. amused? You shook your head in disbelief, trying to come up with an answer. As you opened your mouth to answer, he cut you off. "'F you're gonna lie to me, don't bother speaking," You closed your mouth quickly, caught off guard. Bingo, he got you there. He looked smug, smug that he finally was getting you back after all those times. He leaned down and in, his face right in front of yours with your breaths swirling together between your lips. He moved again, this time leaning into your ear to whisper, "Because we both know what you were doin' in here. Right? Touchin' yourself, moanin' my name, you think I couldn't hear you? 'M surprised the whole house didn't wake up to you sayin' my name like that." This was the most he's ever said anything to you in one go. So he did hear you, he heard you all those nights youd fantasized about him fucking you into oblivion. Your face flushed hot. Incredibly humiliated, you looked down, staring down at your bare toes as Joel kept his lips near your ear. "What happened to that confidence, girl? What about that stunt you pulled in front of your parents? Where's that little loud mouth?" He chuckled dryly as his rough, large hands found their place at your chin. Those same hands you'd fantasize about were holding your chin between two fingers and lifting it up to look Joel in the eye. "Poor girl... she's 'mbarrassed..." was all he said before holding your hand and leading you to the edge of your bed.

He sat down on it with legs slightly spread as he patted his lap, gesturing you to sit. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, was all that ran through your head as you sat on his lap, back flush against his chest as you both were facing your vanity. From the reflection of the mirror, you could see Joel smiling, brushing hair behind your ear. He was tantalizing, slow, and it was killing you. You wanted him to put his hands anywhere he wanted, but he's being careful, precise. Getting impatient, you let out something between a whine and a Joel. He was amused. You started to grind on him in a pathetic attempt to tarnish that familiar ache in your lower belly. With a laugh, Joel's hands found their way to your knees, spreading them apart while he made sure you were watching in the mirror. Your dim, warmly lit room cast an orange tint over you both, Joel's silver hair glistening in it.

He spread your legs open and flipped your gown up above your hips, revealing your cotton panties underneath. If you knew this would've happened, you would've worn something cuter. You looked away from the mirror, embarrassed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.

He noticed your embarrassment and your attempt to hide it.

"Well aren't these cute." He said, talking about your untouched, white panties.

"Oh please." You slightly rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked down to his hands that traced lines up your bare thighs and to your core. He stopped touching you and you looked into the mirror to make eye contact with him.

"You gonna gimmie an attitude? 'Cause I'll leave you here all hot 'n bothered, just like you did to me."

"No, I'm sorry, Joel please," you whined, he had you begging before he barely even touched you.

"You gonna be good?"

"So good." That was all you whispered before Joel split your legs apart farther while his left hand wrapped around your stomach, both keeping you in place and keeping your nightgown up. His right hand settled between your wide legs, messing with the hem of your panties before simply pushing them to the side, revealing your glistening cunt.

A satisfied, mmh noise left Joel's throat his middle finger prodded around, gathering slick between your slit and dragging it up to your clit. You gasped, the feeling being much better than you could ever dream of. His fingers rubbed up and down your folds, his thick finger softly rubbing your clit in small circles.

You could see it all, see your cunt and his finger wet and glistening, see the way his jaw clenches as he watches himself touch you, you could see it all in the mirror. You saw the way his middle finger disappeared inside you and re-appeared before it disappeared once more. You saw the way your mouth fell into a loose 'o' shape as his thumb simultaneously prodded at your clit.

As the pressure built up in your lower belly, Joel added his ring finger. You clenched around him as he curled his fingers inside of you, thumb still on your clit. You looked away from the mirror, unable to stay focused as the the wet squelching filled your ears and you stomach burned.

He let go of your stomach and brought his hand up to your face as the gown flipped back over his hand fucking into you, gripping it harshly and turning it back towards the mirror. "Keep watchin'." He was stern, you were aware of that by the way squeezed your face before letting go, flipping your gown back up. All of this while simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. It was magical. Your own fingers never felt this way, they didn't make you squirm like he did or make you whine as loud. They didn't make you cum like this either. Your moans got higher as his fingers pushed in and out of you faster, your orgasm approaching. You squirmed so much, so Joel's left hand held you in place tightly. His grip almost hurt.

"'S alright, let it go baby." He mumbled so quietly you almost missed it.

Feeling it upon you, you almost yelped, but Joel clapped his left hand over your mouth and held it shut tightly, your moans disappearing into his palm. Your jaw went slack as the knot in your stomach unraveled, coating Joel's fingers white. He let out a satisfied hum as he rode out your orgasm, your legs shaking ever so slightly. It was intense. Your head was reeling as Joel prompted you to look at the mirror, and you did. You saw yourself on his lap breathing heavily and a mess on his jeans and fingers. He wiped his fingers off on his jeans before holding both your shoulder and helping you up, holding you while you found your balance.

You gripped on to his arm while he stood in front of you, smoothing down your gown. You peered up at him through your lashes and he looked down at you. You felt like you had to do something for him after he did this for you, you had to help him out too, right? Assuming so, you got down on your knees while keeping eye contact the whole time. As soon as your knees hit the cold floor, you held onto his calves and peered up at him.

"I've never... never done this before." You bit your lip as your face turned red with that confession. He laughed dryly, rubbing one of your cheeks with his thumb.

"Oh get up." He held you by your shoulders and brought you back onto your feet. "'S your first time, 'm not gonna make you do that. Maybe next time." He continued to chuckle.

Next time.

Joel had pushed you back onto the bed softly, the back of your knees hit your plush sheets. You plopped onto the bed with your knees supporting you up and your legs hung off the edge as Joel slotted himself between your knees. He just gazed upon you, watched the way the warm light lit up your cheeks. You did the same, you watched his hungry eyes dart up and down your body, the way his white hair lay all messed up, the first two buttons on his shirt unbuttoned and his shoulders hunched and probably aching. His hands found the edge of your nightgown and he pulled it over your head and tossed it to the side, drinking in your beautiful body. He ran his hands up and down your soft skin, remembered every curve and dip.

You couldn't wait any longer. Panting heavily, you grabbed the his belt and pulled him down so your hips were touching. You squeezed your thighs together to relieve the feeling that was building up once again.

"So eager." Was all he mumbled before he was undoing his belt and slipping his jeans down to his knees, revealing his boxers and his hard bulge. Just by the looks of it, he was huge. There was a small wet patch on his boxers where his precum leaked out. Your mouth hung open as Joel watched your face while he slowly pulled down his boxers. It wouldn't fit. No way. He was too fucking big. It sprung out and slapped against his stomach, curving ever so slightly to the left. Not only was it long, it was thick too, it would definitely hurt.

"It won't fit, no way. I've never done this before, Joel there's no way it'll-" he cut you off.

"We'll make it fit." That had shut you up. Whatever Joel said, goes. You didn't dare talk back to him now, not after seeing what he could do to you. With his knee, he pushed your knees apart and cupped your cheek with his gruff hand. He just watched you as he bent over, cock brushing against your bare, sticky thigh. You laid on the bed all sprawled out, heavy breath and messy hair, ready to do whatever Joel wanted you to.

Lodging the tip of his cock inside you, he held onto your waist with one hand while he used his other to support himself up.

"Pleaseee Joel." You pleaded, not being able to wait anymore. He didn't need anymore convincing. He practically hurled himself forward, thrusting inside of you as his cock stretched you out painfully. Your instinct was to clench around him to ease the pain but it didn't help. You were squirming and whimpering, the pain felt like you were being split in half. Joel grunted as he slipped inside. You were pulsing around him impossibly tight.

Joel cinched his brows and grunted as you tightly wrapped around him. "Relax. Relax b'fore you- kill me." He was referencing to how tight you were, your back arching off the bed. Joel's hand found its way to your clit, rubbing soft circles onto it to try to get you relax. It helped enough, enough for Joel to start moving. He set a merciful pace to start you off slow, it being your first time.

"Shit, squeezin' me so tight." Joel grunted out as he pulled his hips back and slammed back into you, punching all the air out of your lungs. He began to speed up, the tip of his cock reaching that spongy part inside you. He stretched you out wide and the pain slowly converted to pleasure. You mewled out loudly, holding on to the thin sheets of your bed. He had grabbed the backs of your knees and brought them up to your chest, this new angle had him reaching deeper than before.

"Fuckfuckfuck Joel.. Joel." a mantra of Joel's escaped your pretty lips loudly as he nailed into you hard. Maybe you were a little too loud because Joel's hand found its way back to your face and was clasped over your mouth again.

"Shut up. What would your daddy say if he saw you clenchin' around my cock and screamin' my name like that, hmm? Not such a good little girl anymore, are ya'?" He taunted. You wanted to swat him away and reprimand him for embarrassing you like that, but the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix made you forget about everything else in this world. Each thrust pushed all air out of your lungs and all thoughts out of your brain as Joel would mumble some incoherent praises, telling you how good you were doing.

He only sped up, thrusting in and out while he kept his hand over your mouth. Your moan were muffled and Joel's deep groans and the sound of skin slapping was all that could be heard. It was obscene. You couldn't last any longer, not with the way he was holding your legs up to your body and definitely not with the way his cock was buried inside you. That familiar knot built up inside you once more, threatening to snap with every snap of Joel's aching hips. He could feel it, he could tell you were close the way you pulsed around him. So he sped up, sped up to a pace you didn't even know was possible as you came. You came all over his cock, a white ring forming around it as he kept fucking it out of you.

"Such a sweet girl , so so sweet." He didn't even know what he was saying as he could feel himself getting closer too. Joel didn't stop, he didn't even slow. You didn't have time to recover from your almost painful orgasm as he chased his own. You were so fucked out and he fucked you more, it started to hurt. It was overstimulating.

"I can't.. 's enough, Joel 's enough-" you choked out.

"You can take it, I know you can." was all he grunted out as you whimpered back arching once more. Joel's hips stuttered, but he didn't slow. He kept going, abusing your puffy hole as he choked out one last broken moan before pulling out to cum on your stomach. His hands let go of your legs as he gave himself one last tug. Hot ropes spurted out of him and onto your stomach, you could only whimper at the loss of his dick inside you.

He used his hand to cup your cheek, caressing your sweat ridden face softly. "Told ya' you could take it." You could only roll your eyes as your legs ached and your head spun and Joel laughed. He liked seeing you fucked out like this, his cum all over your stomach and your cunt red and stinging. You were so exhausted.

Before you passed out, the last thing you remembered was the feeling of a warm towel cleaning you up and Joel's honey smooth voice saying, "Relax, baby girl. We can talk about it tomorrow."

In the state you were in now, you couldn't even tell if this was a dream. Tomorrow. Would you even be able to face him tomorrow?

-----

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou smut #the last of us smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller

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justmeinadaze · 3 months

Text

Secret Underneath Part 6 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: No cliffhanger this time, I promise <3.

Warning: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, No smut in this one today, ladies and lads. I didn't feel like it worked with this chapter. I was going to make this one long chapter but I thought it better to split it :)

ANGST, Y/N confronts them about the events of the last chapter. Insecurities get in the way of them and that is explored a lot more in this chapter with mentions of their dads as well as Gina hurting them. She is sullying their image by saying lies (mentions verbal abuse and comments on how the plus size reader is "probably being used" by them because of how she looks) , she does have an incident at a bar with a guy being a dick, they defend her.

Word Count: 4853

Series here/ Donate to Me :)

You broke a rule.

You went on Google and searched for their lawyer’s information through news outlets spouting anything they could in regard to this case. After finding what you needed, you charged into the building and past a secretary who was shouting for you to come back as you opened the door to a conference room where many sets of eyes including their shocked expressions landed on you.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I need a moment alone with these boys for a moment.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson, she just stormed right past me—”

“No, no. It’s alright, Crystal. Um, let’s take a breather and we’ll be back in a moment.”

As soon as everyone had filed out, your angry eyes burned into them as you slid your phone across the table.

“That thing hasn’t stopped going off since Gina released your names and quite frankly I’m afraid to look at it.”

“How did you find out where we were?”, Steve asked as he rose to his feet.

“I googled your lawyer’s name.”

“Well, so much for that promise.”, Eddie sassed as he leaned back in his chair.

“And so much for your promise to take care of me!”, you screamed not caring if anyone heard. “Did you really fucking think that I could stay out of this?! Did you think after what she said people weren’t going to wonder and dig into why I was with you at that party?!”

“You wanted to go and we warned you of the risks of being seen with us.”

“Don’t you dare do that! Don’t you fucking dare place blame on me! I don’t care about being seen with you or if people know that we’re together! What I care about is my job, those kids, and you two!! How can I properly help and protect myself if I don’t have all the facts?! Do you know what she’s saying? She’s saying you two promised to take care of her if anything ever happened. That you were verbally aggressive with her and--”

“Yeah, Y/N, we’re aware of she’s claiming.”, the mogul growls. “Since you’re doing your own research did you go on her social medias? Oh, a lot of fun material there. Now that a fucking judge allowed her to talk about us she’s been posting nonstop about how Eddie would demean her and make her feel ugly. That I apparently offered her money to get plastic surgery to make her look ‘perfect’.”, he sarcastically laughs.

“You should have told me.”

“Because you think we did what she claims?”

“No, Eddie! Fuck, so I can prepare. What if parents suddenly feel like I can’t teach their kids because of the company I keep? What if the school decides that my association with you isn’t worth the attention? Now that this has come to light I need to be aware of what’s going on!”

Neither man said a thing infuriating you more.

“Did you not tell me because you thought I wouldn’t want to be with you? Or did you think I’d hurt you like she did?” You laugh as you shake your head. “Jesus. I thought you two were different but you’re just like every other scared little boy. I thought I had given you enough reason to trust me but I guess not.”

“Yeah so why don’t you fucking leave then, you little brat.”

You weren’t sure if they saw it in your eyes but you definitely felt your heart break. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you back away towards the door.

“I’m so stupid.”

When your teary eyes met theirs, you could tell Steve regretted his words but he couldn’t take them back. They couldn’t take any of this back. Furiously, you reach into your pocket and throw their apartment key across the table before leaving the way you came.

##############

Instagram:

IHateithere: “Oh my god. Poor Gina!”

NeverHave_IEver13: “She’s so sweet and deserves better.”

CorrodedGirl28: “Fuck Gina Frost. This isn’t the first time she’s made claims against a partner! I met Eddie Munson backstage at one of his concerts and he was so sweet.”

E!News: Mystery Woman seen at the Charity Event with Steven Harrington and Edward Munson has been cited by the men’s lawyers as ‘just a friend.’

Twitter:

ElderEmoKid91: That poor friend of theirs. No matter what people will think they dated because of Gina.

ChaosRains: ‘Their friend’? Yeah right. Probably as much of a whore as Gina Frost!

JusticefortheUnheard: I bet if this was a man with two women he’d be slated as a ‘hero’ but because it’s a woman with two men she’s a whore. Grow up!

Steve Harrington: Eddie and I are saddened to hear that not only has our privacy been violated but Gina Frost is allowed to continue spreading her lies until we get this matter resolved. We never once raised a voice or hand to her and took care of her like any boyfriend would which she constantly took advantage of…

Steve Harrington: In regard to the young lady that came with us to charity event last Saturday, she is a friend we’ve known for a while. We ask politely that you respect her privacy as what is going on between us and Gina…

Steve Harrington: doesn’t involve her. Thank you for your understanding and we will speak more on this situation when we are finally able.

TMZ: Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson release joint statement regarding ‘friend’ and how they feel about Frost ‘spreading her lies’!

YouTube and TV:

CBS: “Gina Frost, thank you so much for speaking with us today. Before we let you go, what are your thoughts on the young lady they were seen with? Do you have any advice for her in regard to Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson?”

“Run, girl. Get as far away from them as you can. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started ‘hanging out’ with a girl like her because of our case. They always wanted me to be perfect. To look like the woman they thought would be equal to them and their status. She’s the complete opposite of what they wanted me to be so dating, or excuse me, being friends with her makes them look good.”

***

You wiped the tears that fell with your knee as you browse Daddies on your computer. Your phone was still dinging constantly so you kept it hidden in your bedside table drawer. Since winter break had started you didn’t have to deal with work and for that you were thankful.

Your identity hadn’t been officially confirmed but it seemed to be common knowledge at this point; everyone knew it was you.

Not wanting to be alone, you ran home into your parent’s open arms.

“Baby! Are you ok? What’s going on? Tell us everything.”

“I’m so stupid, mom.”, you cried.

“No, you’re not, honey. Come on. I made some coffee. Let’s sit down and talk.”

You told them everything minus the exact way you met them but you did tell them that you had been dating them both and how much you cared about them. When you were met with nothing but love and zero judgement, you cried harder.

Having fully settled in, you felt yourself getting antsy. After everything, you didn’t want a new relationship, just something casual but after having been with the guys you felt yourself cringing more and more at the stupid flirting that hit you.

“’Sup, pretty girl? Fuck your gorgeous. Wanna suck my cock?”

“Hey babe. You got an attitude? I bet I can fuck it out of you.”

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

Your head straightened at the message from Mogul/Rockstar. You hadn’t heard from them in over two weeks. What were they doing on this site? You couldn’t help the jealousy that flowed through you even though technically you were on the site first.

2:13am: What do you want, Steve?

2:14am: I want an answer to my question. What are you doing on this site again?

2:15am: What are YOU doing on here?! And why do you fucking care? You told me to leave remember?

2:17am: We’ve been calling you for the past couple of weeks but you don’t answer. We got worried. Steve thought maybe we could reach you through here but I thought naw. She wouldn’t get back on here so fast. Guess we were wrong.

2:20am: Don’t you dare, Eddie. Don’t you turn this around on me. You have no idea what I’ve been through! I still can’t believe you didn’t talk to me. You really expected me to sit at my apartment while you handled all this alone. Did you really think she wouldn’t pull me into your thing?”

2:21am: Now because of all the secrecy I can’t help but think what I’m hearing is true!

2:22am: Like what?

2:25am: Answer. Like what?

2:26am: That you only dated me so it seems like you didn’t want her to be the ‘ideal woman’.

You hear your phone vibrate against the drawer it’s nestled.

2:28am: Answer the phone.

2:28am: No.

2:29am: Now, Y/N. We need to talk.

2:30am: Oh now you want to talk!? Go fuck yourselves!

2:30am: Mogul/Rockstar has invited you to a video chat!!

2:31am: CurveybabywAttitude declined your invitation to video chat.

2:32am: Y/N. Answer the fucking phone.

2:38am: Y/N, sweetheart, please.

2:44am: Baby…

2:44am: Please…

2:45am: We love you.

2:45am: So much.

Uh oh! It looks like this Baby can no longer receive messages from Mogul/Rockstar! This means you have either been blocked or the Baby has deleted their account.

###################

“Jesus what assholes.”, your best friend sighs as she takes a sip from her glass. “If they loved you then why did they push you away?”

“I don’t know, My. Let’s stop talking about them and dance!”

To get your mind off everything and let go, you met up with your best friend who took you to a new bar that had been built while you were away from home. Dressed in your tightest black dress and black heels, you grabbed your own drink and danced away the pain.

Your friend took photos, tagging you together with men in the background casually touching your arm or waist. Your limbs found their way around a cute boy you had been talking casually to and allow him to kiss you. You hated the taste, missing Eddie and Steve even more but you pushed down the feeling as you pulled him tighter against you.

“Take me home.”, you slurred, making the young man immediately jump to his feet. When you tried to do the same you fell backwards.

“Whoa, Y/N. Maybe, you should let me take you home.”

“Naw, Mya. I-I-I M’fine.”, you assured as you lightly pushed her to the side and stumbled out the front door. When you tripped again the man wrapped your arm around his neck and began leading you to his car. “Wait—Wait. I’m…I need a minute.”, you whine as you take a seat on the brick wall behind you.

“Come on, baby. You can rest at my place.”, the man cooed in your ear causing you to cringe. “Look we don’t even have to go. We can just fuck in my car real quick—”

“Oh, that’s romantic.”

As you stood up and started to walk away, he grabbed your wrist a bit to roughly and in return, you smacked his cheek before stumbling to the concrete.

“Ow! Fucking bitch—” As the man began to step forward, someone intercepted, abruptly grabbing his collar and lifting him off his feet.

“Eddie, let it go, man. Not right now.”, Steve whispers before kneeling down beside you to try and help you up.

“Get out of my sight.”, the rockstar growls, pushing him away from you.

“Y/N, stop. I’m just trying to help you stand—”

“I don’t need your fucking help!”, you shouted as you shoved his hand away. “I don’t need anything from you!”

Trying to push up onto your knees, you became dizzy and fell over again causing Steve to try and steady you while blocking your shoulder from scraping the wall beside you. Your hair was blocking your face but when they heard you sniffle, Eddie crouched down to balance on his heels and tenderly reached out to move some of it behind your ear.

“I did everything you asked… I didn’t push when it came to your past or dig into your information online. I-I-I respected the anon-ymity and privacy when we first met and took a leap of faith going to that party with you. I flew to visit you anywhere you were and didn’t complain when you were gone for weeks at a time. I made myself vulnerable…for you…but still…you don’t trust me.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we are so sorry—”

“I want to go home, please, Daddy.”

The way you said that shattered them in two. Just in your voice alone they could hear how much pain you were in yet even in your inebriated state you still yearned for them. Selfishly, it gave them hope.

“Y/N, sweetie! There you are.”, your best friend shouts in relief as she runs to you and helps you to your feet. “Get the fuck away from her. Haven’t you done enough damage?!”

“We just want to talk to her.”

“Fuck you! You had your chance to talk and—”

“Mya, please. Sleepy.”, you whine.

When she tries to lead you away from them towards her car, you stumble over your feet again but Eddie swiftly catches you and lifts you into his arms.

“We’ll help you get her to your car.”

“Why? So you know which one is mine and follow me back to her house?!”

“No, so we can help you get her situated and back home so she can rest.”, Steve growled.

Mya blinks, taken a back slightly by their protective demeanors over you. After taking a moment, she finally nods and guides them towards her vehicle, watching carefully as they place you in the passenger seat. The mogul buckles your seatbelt and gently puts your bag in your lap.

Your half-lidded eyes scan his worried face as your head lulls towards him.

“M’not her.”

“Who, honey?”

“Gina.”

Flashing you a soft smile, he begins to reach out to pet your head before forcing himself to stop and rise to his feet.

“We’re staying at the hotel by the highway; room 118. When she wakes up tomorrow, if you could tell her that, we’d appreciate it.”, Eddie conveys as his sad eyes stay on you.

“Your fuckers, you know that?”, Mya shouts their way as they start to leave. “Like so much so that I don’t even know where to begin. She used to call me every other day and talk about these new guys she was seeing. She never told me your full names but she told me everything else. ‘Oh Mya, they are so sweet and funny. Steve is amazing at his job and works to hard to make sure everything gets done while still being able to be there for me. I love watching Eddie play on stage. He gets so into the songs and his face lights up when he hears the fans singing along. Falling asleep in their arms is my new favorite place. I finally feel safe.’”

“When the news dropped, I called her but she didn’t answer. I wasn’t worried at the time because the way she described you, I thought ‘Thankfully, they have her and she has them.’ Then she came home and told me about you expecting her to hide in her apartment with zero information on what was happening. How you yelled at her and called her a fucking brat when she called you out.”

“Oh, and the icing on the cake? You tell her you love her for the first time over a dating website AFTER ALL THIS BULLSHIT YOU PUT HER THROUGH! Holden wore his asshole behavior out in the open for all to see. You made her believe you were different, leading her on before breaking her heart. After the stuff I read, I’m starting to believe Gina Frost.”

Both men absorbed what your best friend was saying, different emotions painting their features before finally landing on anger; not at her but themselves.

“Your right.”, Steve replied in a sullen tone. “We fucked up. Hell, we did more than fuck up…”

“We’ve never cared about anyone the way we do her and that terrifies us. Not just because of our status or who we are even though that’s why Gina used us but…”, Eddie added. “The men underneath the fame and money are incredibly flawed.”

“Gina made us afraid of her hurting us but our own personal bullshit made us afraid of hurting her.”

“So this is better?”, Mya asked.

“My…where…where your phone?”, you slurred as your hand lazily reached in her direction.

“Y/N, I’m taking you back to your mom’s, honey, you don’t know need to call them.”

“No…not mom…Eddie…Steve…I need to make dem come back. They were here an’ an’…”

“How about you call them tomorrow morning, ok? It’s really late and—”

“I don’t want dem to leave again. Mya…please…”

“Hey, hey sweetheart, we’re right here. We haven’t gone anywhere.” Tears start to run down your cheeks again and the rockstar cups your face in his hand. “We’re right here and we’ll be here when you wake up. Just let Mya, take you home and get you in bed. Tomorrow you can call us and we’ll talk then alright?”

After you nod, Eddie adjusts your body again before closing the door.

“You guys should get going.”

“Do you really love her?”, your best friend asks.

“Yes.”

Again, Mya takes a moment to gather her thoughts as her eyes shift between your now sleeping frame and them.

“Her parents house isn’t far. You can follow me there.”

***

“Why are they here?”, your father asks in an annoyed tone as he eyes the men up and down.

“It’s ok, Mr. Y/L/N. They just wanted to help get her situated and then they’ll be on their way.”, Mya answers in equal measure.

“Is her room up here?”, Eddie inquires as he gestures towards the stairs.

“Why don’t you come with us so you can get her changed into something comfier.”, Steve follows when your friend nods.

“Why? You’re her whatevers right?”

“I don’t think it would be appropriate right now for us to do that.”

“I can help you.”, your mom responds out of nowhere. “Come on, gentlemen.”

After they get to your room, your mother turns on your bedside lamp as Eddie gently places you down on your bed. Taping the rockstars shoulder, she hands him an oversized shirt with your college insignia on it and some shorts.

“Maybe you should…”

“I trust you, Mr. Munson. Plus I’m right here.” Her eyes studiously watch them as both boys work to change you out of your tight garment doing everything they could to not have to look at your body. Steve’s palm carefully cradled your head to make sure they didn’t jostle you around too much as you soundly slept.

“Do you have a washrag or wipe or something for her makeup?”

Her head tilts at his question, impressed he even thought of that. Disappearing into your restroom, she came back with wet wipes, and Eddie thanked her as he took one and gently cleaned your face.

This was a bit harder to accomplish without moving you as your face scrunched and you whined.

“Steve…stop…”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Blame him. That way if I don’t do this correctly it will be his fault.”, he teased making you sleepily giggle.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”, Eddie whispers.

“Thank you, ma’am, for letting us do this. We just wanted to make sure she got here safely.”

“Hm. You wanted to make sure she got back home in one piece but didn’t think to do that when it came to all this chaos you brought her into?”, you mom scolded as she folded her arms.

“We did warn her—”

“No Mr. Harrington. You may have warned her about your lifestyle but you didn’t do anything to protect her when the fallout of that lifestyle presented itself. Holden ‘warned’ her about what life in New York would be like but when things got hard he abandoned her instead working with her. Like him, you left her alone.”

Nodding, their heads hung as they began to head towards the door before stopping.

“I’m afraid.”, Eddie announces. “My mom died when I was young, my dad went to jail, people around me told me I’d never amount to anything, and then our ex did what she did. When we met Y/N, fuck, I thought she was perfect… and that scares me. I don’t want to lose her but I also don’t want to be the reason that spark inside of her dies.”

“Seems like a lose/lose, Eddie. But let me ask you something… what if your relationship with her had a happy ending? What if she didn’t hurt you like your ex and you don’t hurt her like people in your life?” She smiles softly as she pats his shoulder. “It’s a risk, boys, but you just need to decide who is worth taking that risk for. You’re more than welcome to stay in our spare bedroom if you would like.”

####################

When you woke up the next morning, you had a splitting headache, thankful that your pain reliever was still in your drawer by your bed. The sound of soft breathing startled you a bit and when you leaned over your bedframe, you were surprised to see Eddie asleep on your floor using his jacket as a pillow. Steve had placed himself in the reading chair you had in the corner with his head leaning against the wall.

You didn’t realize how much you missed them till you saw their faces and you took the opportunity to refamiliarize yourself as your eyes scanned over them. The mogul was in jeans and a polo making you smile softly while silently missing the sleek suits that hugged him perfectly. The rockstar was still dressed the same as he usually was but his whole demeanor even while sleeping seemed heavy.

Your heart broke for them until the last couple of weeks caught up with you and you remembered why you were here.

Reaching for one of your pillows, you threw it their way, hitting Eddie’s chest before it bounced and hit Steve’s lap.

“The fuck?”, he grumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

“The fuck indeed. Why are you both here? How did you even know where I was?”

“Your best friend was posting pictures of you and tagging your location on Instagram. You weren’t answering your phone—”

“Yeah, Steve, for a reason. That doesn’t give you the right to come down here.”

“Thank God we did because some asshole was harassing you and Mya was having trouble getting you to her car to take you home.”

“No, Eddie. You playing hero doesn’t absolve you of what you did. You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

“We tried to call—”

“Oh, fuck you both!” As you start to get up to yell at them, a sharp sting runs through knee causing you to wince and sit back down.

“Shit. Didn’t see that last night. Um, do you have a first kit or anything thing?”

When you don’t answer, the mogul goes on the hunt himself as Eddie kneels in front of you to look at the scrape on your knee.

“Yeah, you fell on the concrete outside of the bar with some asshole trying to… I told him to fuck off.” Sitting on the bed beside you, Steve opens the little white box and starts to open a Band-Aid before his friend stops him. “Dude, you have to clean it first. It’s like you’ve never been in a fight before. Gimme this.”, he chuckles lightly as he takes the box and pulls out the antiseptic.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m not… I don’t belong to you anymore.”

His movements only halt for a second before Eddie continues taking care of you.

“I don’t mind doing this. I like taking care of you.”, he murmurs. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to but I didn’t want you to cast me aside either.”

“We—”

“Don’t say you didn’t, Steve, because you did.”

“We did.” His response surprised you as you turned your head in his direction. “We talked to your mom last night. She’s a very wise woman.”, he smirks as he watches Eddie continue his task. “Y/N, I worked so hard to get where I am and I don’t just mean taking over my dad’s company and doing the deals I do. When I was growing up, I was never enough for either of my parents but especially my father. In his eyes, I could always be just a little bit better.”

“I could shorten my time by one more second in the pool or get one more minute on the court. My grades could have been one point higher or I could have gotten three grand more out of a deal. He wanted me to be perfect but I learned after I graduated high school that bar was always changing.” When his eyes finally met yours, you saw the pain behind them. “Gina knew all this… that’s why she’s saying that about me. She knows it hurts me…people thinking I’m like my father.”

Eddie finishes placing the Band-aid on your skin and leans back against the wall across from you.

“My dad was a dick…to me and my mother. He cut us down all the time verbally but after she died it got worse. He would tell me I was stupid and a freak just like the people in our town. I left my house with more bruises than I could count on numerous occasions but his words, babe. I carry those everywhere even now. I never once, no matter how angry I was, called her anything demeaning even though I fucking wanted to. She would call us every name in the book but we never once belittled her or laid a hand on her.”

“When we met you, Jesus, I swear there was no girl we had ever met like you.”

“Beautiful, sarcastic, kind, understanding…”, Steve clarified when your eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, you are everything we’ve ever wanted.”

“Stop…”, you whimper quietly.

“I feel like somehow she knows that. That’s why she’s saying that stuff about us choosing you because you’re everything she’s not. We wouldn’t change anything about you. Not one thing, princess. But we are so fucking scared of getting hurt again.”

“And we’re afraid of hurting you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair, honey?”

“Do you think trusting you was easy after what Holden did to me? I upended everything I knew to follow him and he broke my heart. I was terrified of starting over in any relationship let alone with two people but I got to know you and allowed myself to be vulnerable for you… you should be able to do that for me to.”

“You’re right, baby, and we are so sorry. We’re willing to try.”, Eddie pleaded as he leaned up to grab your hands. “We don’t even have to be in a relationship again or do anything sexual. We can start slow and go from there. We just miss you so much, Y/N. The way you smell, your sense of humor, the way you play with my hair when we’re lying in bed or watching tv.”

“The way you listen to us when we talk even if it’s about work.”, Steve chimes in. “Your cute little laugh and the way you wrap your arms around me like you haven’t seen me in years when it’s only been a few hours.”

“Ah good morning, gentlemen and my hung over child. How are we today?”, your mother teases as she grins your way.

“We’re fine thank you but if you could lower your voice a smidge that would be nice.”, you sass back making her chuckle as both men grin softly.

“Your dad made breakfast if you and your guests are hungry. Just don’t throw it up or you’ll hurt his feelings.”

You smile as you playfully wave her off before turning your attention back to them.

“Do you have to go back home for work or anything?”

“No, ma’am. We’re all yours.”

“Unless you want us to go back home.”, Eddie adds with sad inflection in his voice hoping and praying that you don’t.

“Ok… I’m going to change and then head downstairs. You, um, you should stay for breakfast. Knowing my father, if my mom told him you were staying he probably poisoned something but…I’m sure you’ll be fine.”, you joke as you get up and head towards your closet, tossing them a little wink before collecting some clothes and closing the bathroom door.

####################

@aol19 @paradisepoisons @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash @alastorssimp @mygirlchaos @starksbabie @imagine-all-the-imagines @nailbatanddungeon

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 months

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Gay Cheerleaders AU

Y'all knew it was coming.

I'm thinking Lena would be the... third(?) year veteran, who is a legacy. Her mom Lillian was also a cheerleader, and then became the head honcho in charge of the cheerleading division. Lena grew up with the expectation of eventually joining the organization as a dancer, and naturally becomes a group leader (the youngest 1st group leader in the history of the organization?) through her sense of responsibility, magnetism, and compassion, even if she remains a little distant-- she doesn't share her whole self with the team, as she's constantly aware of needing to present the image of a perfect cheerleader, a perfect leader.

Kara would be the rookie, immediately awed by Lena's performance during tryouts. She's not in Lena's group, but her own group leader faces some... personality challenges, lets say, that have Kara taking on more of a responsibility than would normally be allocated to a first year dancer.

But when Kara and Lena end up bumping into each other in the studio for some solo practice, they agree to share the space and work together. Of course they end up bonding, and those practices lead to coffees, lunches, some movie nights.

They eventually become the darlings of the team, inseperably so. Young fans try to catch glimpses of them standing together on the sidelines, loving to see Kara acting herself (aka goofy) and seeing Lena laughing in response. Behind the scenes they become romantically and sexually involved, but they keep it hidden because while it's not explicitly forbidden, they do cheer for a very conservative state, and they know it would impact not only their squad but the team overall.

In their day jobs, Lena is a children's dance teacher-- she wants to do more, but Lillian wants it for the community-service image it presents. Kara would be a fitness trainer I think, something lucrative but flexible and reflective of her athletic and exuberant nature whereas Lena is a bit more reserved.

Kara and Lena span multiple seasons/classes, and in the off season Lena pops up on Kara's instagram a little bit here and there, which only fuels the quiet online rumors about them. Like, the people who clock them are also queer in a conservative region of the country, so it's not a mass pop-culture phenomenon-- yet.

That all changes when one night Lena is grabbed inappropriately by a cameraman or other stadium employee, and can't manage to extricate herself despite her obvious and vocal discomfort. Kara sees red. She slugs the man right across the jaw with a proper right hook. The cameras had only just started to pan over to Lena's commotion and catches the exact moment Kara lunges for him and spins Lena out of his reach.

Kara is the champion/brute of the moment, depending on who's talking. Some laud her for both her protectiveness of her teammate and her technique, while others condemn her for unladylike vigilantism. Why didn't she let the security team deal with it, she serves a role model for young girls what is she teaching them the thug life?

Most importantly-- and most dire, perhaps-- is that it clues Lillian into the deeper nature of their relationship. She corners Lena, and interrogates her as Lena tries and tries to deflect. Lillian all but tells her that she'll be watching Lena through a microscope, and terrifies Lena to the point she breaks up with Kara in an attempt to protect her tenure with the organization.

Kara doesn't really care about all that, but when Lena says it's what she wants, she respects that. Until the team goes to the superbowl, and in the height of emotions at the winning touchdown, Lena forgets herself and throws her arms around Kara's neck and kisses her.

She's stunned at herself, horrified even, but before she can even try to apologize Kara recovers and kisses her again, this time long and slow. The cameras not on the players or stadium stands are focused on them, and the next day and weeks they are the only ones anyone can talk about, for better or worse.

Lillian uses Lena's next year, her fifth and final, as leverage. Apologize publicly for her lapse in judgement, confirm it was only ever friendship, condemn Kara for assault-- or she's out.

Lena listens calmly, then smoothly rises.

"Then I'm out."

She walks out without a second glance.

#supercorp #gay cheerleaders au #american football cheerleading is bizarre #but interesting #obvs this story would also be a commentary on the harm the industry does to its girls #and lena walking away would be a huge victory on so many level #inspired/informed by the dallas cowboys cheeleader documentary on netflix

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rafyki · 5 months

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Percy sees Nico again after so long and for a moment he doesn't even recognize him - and then he does, but it's so hard to reconcile the image of the young boy in his mind with what he's seeing now. Nico is different, and not just because he got taller and grew his hair out, but because of the way he's carrying himself, head held high and an easy smile on his lips, the way he looks like he knows that he could get the whole world on its knees if he so much wanted to (and oh, Percy would definitely not think twice before getting on his knees if Nico asked him to).

Percy looks at him and can't stop staring. He doesn't know why and he feels ridiculous, but there's something incredibly magnetic about this Nico, and Percy simply cannot stop looking at him. He feels like every second not spent admiring the handsome boy would be a wasted moment of his life.

He stares and thinks that he wants. He's not sure he ever wanted anything or anyone so bad in his whole life.

Of course Nico notices.

"You're staring at me".

And it's not like Percy can deny it, can he. "I know".

Nico is looking at him like he's waiting for an explanation, but Percy doesn't really have any. He can't really tell him that he saw him and his while world has shifted on his axis and he feels like Nico is his new center of gravity - he's ridiculous, but he's not that ridiculous. Maybe. Even thought he really wants to drop on his knees right here and now and just let Nico do whatever he wants to him.

Gods, he's losing his mind.

"You've been staring at me a whole lot, lately".

Percy nods, and just keeps staring. He thinks Nico must know the effect he's having on him, no way he's not aware of it.

"Care to tell me why?"

And Percy could say so many things in response - something to deflect and play it off, some half-assed excuse that wouldn't make him appear like the biggest loser ever, maybe even something that is cool enough to woo Nico back and sweep him off his feet.

Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “You’re pretty”.

Which is ridiculously humiliating and also doesn't even begin touch the surface of what Nico looks like and the effect he has on Percy. But it is better than telling him he's having a hard time holding back from jumping on him right here and now, at least.

Nico blinks once, twice, eyebrows shooting up his forehead, lips parted in shock and surprise - and, gods, Percy can feel himself fall.

(just a little bit of something I'm working on right now and can't get out of my mind)

(I'm sorry by I LIVE for future Percico and Percy being a total simp for Nico)

#percico #percy jackson #nico di angelo #percy jackson and the olympians #nicercy #pernico #pjo #posting this here bc i cant get it out of my mind #and bc idk when ill be able to write the complete fic #my fics #my posts

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dduane · 4 months

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...So once again it's the time of year when I return to this piece of digital art (or its earlier versions), tweak it a little in the attempt to get closer to what I see in my head, and repost it for Pride. (ETA, 3 June 2024: image tweaked a little bit more via late-night re-render because the upholstery wasn't rendering correctly, and as a result the kitty sort of vanished. Which would not be at all her style...)

At the moment I'm looking at These Two Idiots (for so they are) and considering with the usual bemusement how long I've been working with them. Of all the characters I've worked with in print, the only ones I've known longer would be the crew of NCC-1701—and very shortly now, for the first time as paid writing, a couple of gentlemen named Holmes and Watson.

I first "met" these guys in late 1970 in the form of the fellow college students on whom they'd be based: a couple of gents (not gay, as it happens) who were friends to me when I needed some. They were a tall dark guy and a short blond one with a mustache that came and went... so that, not even knowing the word "trope" at the time, I fell headfirst into one.

Less than a year after I met them, I changed educational tracks and schools, and we all drifted apart. But something about them stuck. The nature and depth of their friendship was unusual. So was one way it manifested itself: in ruthless snark that had no meanness or cruelty about it whatsoever—just affection.

In the late sixties I'd begun writing some very derivative fic strongly influenced by Tolkien. Rather to my surprise, though, as I started nursing school in 1971, the nature of that fiction started to change, and began rearranging itself around two characters who had a friendship like those of my college friends. With them as its core, a rather different kind of medieval-ish fantasy world started knitting itself together from various scraps of themes and imagery lying around in the back of my brain.

Even so early in the construction phases of this world, something the characters quickly made plain to me in the writing was that their relationships with one another were not what mainstream 1970s culture would consider conventional. They were gay... but that was a background issue,* and not at all the most important thing in their lives. They had far more important business to deal with—as became clear as their personalities and priorities started filling themselves out in the foreground.

One of them turned out to be the deliberate, analytical, methodical son of a provincial nobleman, all too aware of the expectations of those around him: that he might well eventually wind up running that province himself. Yet at the same time he also became aware that he had other problems, chief among them the discovery of a nascent power that would kill him young if he couldn't master it. And in the last thousand years, no one of his gender ever had.

The other presented himself more and more clearly as a difficult case: someone who wanted very much to be good at the family business, but wasn't... and knew it. Kind of a screw-up, repeatedly doing the wrong things for what he was sure were the right reasons. Yet, no matter how often he screwed up, he was also the kind of person who keeps picking himself up and trying again, because he's been told over and over that that's what people like him have to do: otherwise they're no use to anybody.

Imagine my shock when I realized that these two men—initially canonically enemies in their adolescence, then best friends as they grew, and eventually much more—were the (incomplete) answer to the question I'd once asked my Mom at the end of the bedtime reading of some fairy tale or other: "Why can't a prince rescue another prince?" Because one of them got himself more than once into situations where he really needed one kind or another of rescuing. The other one obliged him, while once or twice getting rescued himself. Those interlocking patterns started to solidify out of concept and into character detail and plot, while their world grew and proliferated into its own detail around them.

Then, without warning, in 1978 both world and characters decided they were ready to get real. I was abruptly dragged gasping and flailing under the surface of a novel that would begin the tale of what those two characters had yet to become. The period it took to produce that first draft was possibly the most interesting six weeks of my life... and that includes the six weeks during which I first scrubbed in on brain surgery. Day and night, for days at a time, I barely even existed except as something for a novel to come out of. When it was done with me, it just as abruptly dumped me back into my life and wandered away, leaving me staring around, blinking and wondering if anybody’d got the number of that truck. Nothing like it has ever happened to me since, which may be just as well. I’m none too sure that these days I could handle the strain.

The book—which sold a couple of weeks after it landed on its first publisher's desk—kicked off my career as novelist and screenwriter, and in its way proved that the world was at least somewhat ready for epic fantasy in which the basic culture was pansexual, polyamorous, and inclusive in ways that hadn't been attempted before.

So I owe them a debt, those two gentlemen up there: the tall dark curly-haired guy with the amateur strategist's mind, the blacksmith's shoulders, and the peculiar sword, his background thought always nibbling away at the question of how to heal the world's wounds: and the short fair gent who if he could would stay at home, live quietly in town, and work in the local library... except for when saving the world (or his found family) requires him to subsume his being into that of his ancestral demigod. Due to the success of the book in which they made their debut, these two became, in their way, the fairy† godfathers of the Young Wizards—and additionally enabled all that Star Trek fanfic I'd started writing a decade before to proceed to its logical conclusion.

More to the point, though, a lot of people in the 1980s and '90s who'd never seen queer representation in a fantasy novel, found it first, or at last, while following Herewiss and Freelorn down their road. It's been my pleasure to hold that space for new readers, and keep adding to it... because (if you ask me) it's needed more now than ever.

So, to the readership of the Middle Kingdoms works—now pushing half a century old—and everybody else who's celebrating the season: happy Pride!

*Not least because everybody else in their world is (at least potentially) some shade of queer, including God.

†(snicker)

#Pride #Pride 2024 #Middle Kingdoms meta #Herewiss #Freelorn #LGBTQ #LGBTQ fantasy

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devondespresso · 1 year

Text

FINALLY

after NINE. HOURS. (NOT including meals and sleep) ITS FUCKING DONE.

A complete floorplan of the entire Harrington house. Including too much thought about random, throw-away lines from characters and squint-to-see-it background glimpses inside.

plently of stuff in the actual house is altered or straight up ignored in favor of following the fiction logic and because I Wanted To. A lot of this is motivated by my headcanons for the Harringtons and how I'm writing them in my fic, but I'm also certainly not an architect so it's by no means perfect. It is, however, unreasonably canon compliant in the few bits we do see.

Thought Process (for context):

the darker shaded floor areas are lower than the rest, some bits like the garages having stairs and some areas like the sun and dining rooms list being like a step lower. Windows are marked with dashes along the outside, sliding doors are two thin lines slightly overlapping, stairs change color as they diverge from the level we're looking at, and furniture is eyeballed so don't look to closely a the scale.

not all closets are labeled, just the ones i figured could be confusing. Steve and the guest rooms have closets i promise.

the laundry room and pantry are not the same size but by the time i noticed i was exhausted. so pretend they're both more reasonably sized.

i don't know what the floorplan symbol for garage door is and then i forgot to look so the headlights point to where the doors are and you can see them clearly in photos so yeah.

The general layout is based on the idea that the Harringtons are or were into hosting dinner parties and business meetings in their home, especially as a young rich couple looking for respect in their circles (Mr. Harrington taking on his father's business and reinforcing that power, Mrs. Harrington climbing her own social ladder and building an image).

So the house is laid out with hosting areas towards the right with the office big and near the dining room because it's more than just a workplace, it represents him as a businessman. In canon the entryway and living room both have very high ceilings and no second-floor above them, so I'd imagine they're also aware of how the top floor looks from below, hence the fancy double/french doors to the master bedroom which is in plain view from below. Steve's room and the guest room are's nearly as visible.

As for the kitchen and sun/pool rooms, I see them more as secondary hosting areas that aren't used as the main location most of the time and are more this background setting to these events that still feel rich. The kitchen is massive and mostly for dinner-parties and Mrs. Harrington's social events.

The kitchen and main bathroom's placement is based on a line Steve said to Barb giving her directions to the bathroom: "down past the kitchen, to the left". With the massive living room on the left and wanting to keep the dining and office close by, i interpreted the "to the left" part being like "find the kitchen, then turn left". And with the rest of the area being open-concept, the bathroom would be the only normal door over there and easy to find. it's a bit of a stretch with just that line, but it makes sense to me with the rest of the context for the layout.

the basement is similar to this, though not as openly displayed so I imagine its for slightly closer friends. Theres a garage door down there so I figured Mr. Harrington might have a cool car he shows off, like he's letting people in on a personal detail about himself. There's also a guest room down there (the only one still considered 100% for guests, more on that later) for those people.

beside the basement garage, there was originally one main garage that holds two cars, obvious Mr. and Mrs. Harrington's cars. I imagine they bought the house before having kids, so a third one wasn't on the mind but after having Steve they added the front one (either turning the carport into a closed garage or they never had a carport and added a whole new addition, up to you)

Both garages lead to the same part of the house, and that area is the only one besides the water heater room that is purely function over effect. It still looks good like the rest of the house but it's not made to be fancy because guests would rarely need to be over there if at all and it's not noteworthy from other parts of the house.

In my headcanon, Steve's room used to be a guest room, staying his room from nursery to present with Mrs. Harrington renovating every now and then. Its one of those places in the house that doesn't have to look perfect for all to see, so she gets creative and has fun with it.

The upstairs guest room is also unofficially Mrs. Harrington's room, based on a line where Tommy mentions a fireplace in "his mom's room" instead of "guest room" or "parent's room" or "master bedroom". I belatedly realized this could be a solidarity thing with Steve hating his dad and calling the master bedroom his mom's room, but that was after 9 hours of this and im not changing it but there you go. In this version, I imagine she leaves the master some nights because her marriage with Mr. Harrington is failing (cheating and all, I wouldn't want to be in the same bed with someone who cheated either)

the master bathroom was an executive decision, just looking at the house in canon and not having enough space in my first attempts, i decided the triangle roof part above the dining and office could fit a master bathroom.

Feel free to use or reference this in your own fics! Feel free to block out my furniture or walls and make your own version. If you share my image please credit with an @ mention!! (again, 9 hours) (thank you fhalsfhd)

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 2 years

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I'M IN TROUBLE!

when your private relationship is found out by the public

gender neutral reader

ISAGI YOICHI!

caught completely off guard!

Isagi started dating you out of a place of pure adoration, and in all honesty, he genuinely thought everything would work out with time. He never thought that dating would get so messy now that he’s gone pro, he didn’t think so many people would be this invested about who he’s dating. He wants to respect your boundaries, and he knows that not everyone likes being put under that much spotlight. But when somehow, someone manages to get wind of the fact that he’s dating you, he lets you take the reins as to how you want to manage things. Do you want to keep things private? His affections for you are reserved for closed doors! Do you want to open things up? He’ll start bringing you up in interviews! Isagi wants you to move at your pace, and he wants you to remember that he’s your Yoichi before he’s anybody else’s.

“...So they found us out, huh?” You sighed, shaking your head slightly at the leaked paparazzi pictures that were flooding your timeline. It was undoubtedly a picture of you and him, no matter how blurry the image might have been. Isagi’s grinning like a happy puppy in it, and you’re there next to him. It’s a candid of you pressing your lips to his cheek.

“I’m working with my manager to find out who took it,” Isagi offered. He smiled at you apologetically, and he pulled you closer to him. “ I… I understand if it might lead to some difficult discussions.”

You rested your head on his chest. The comforting th-thump of his heartbeat anchored you momentarily, pushing past all the panic that was pounding on the inside of your skull. You knew you were buckling up for an unconventional relationship the very second you accepted the young striker’s confession, but you didn’t think reality would catch up with you so soon.

“Before you ask: no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You glanced up at him with a coyish smile. “I figured that this day would come eventually. So what if they find out? It’s not like anything should come in between us because of that. I mean, if anything, you being taken ought to chase away any suitors you might have-”

“-You know I’ve never held anyone in my heart except for you,” Isagi cut you off, and he stuck his bottom lip at the thought of dating anyone other than you. “I’d rather stay single my entire life than not have you.”

You reached up towards his head, and you ruffled his beautiful black hair. What did you do to deserve this boy? It felt like the entire world was coveting him. He was the new up-and-coming ace striker from the mysterious Blue Lock program. Who wouldn’t want a piece of him?

Yet here he was, cradling you to his chest. Head over heels for you, Isagi wouldn’t entertain anyone except for you, regardless of how open your no-longer-secret relationship to him was.

“I love you, Yoichi.”

“I love you too. We’ll figure this out. As we always do.”

BAROU SHOUEI!

keeps pushing ahead!

Barou has never cared about what other people have thought of him. As long as they recognized him as their superior, he did however he pleased. That was how he was even with dating you. While he did a good job keeping things hush-hush for your sake and cleaning up any stray details, the moment the bubble pops, he’s quick to immediately shut down anyone who has any complaints. The instant he thinks anyone has an issue with you, he’s glaring them down. If a reporter asks too many personal questions, he’s cutting them off. He’s still incredulously selfish and egotistical, but he’s doing it for your sake. He’s fully aware that he’s not everyone’s favorite person, but the last thing he wants is for you to take the brunt of that. Once your relationship is outed, he might even become more protective of you than he was before. Either way, he doesn’t want to disturb the trust you have in him, and he’ll continue smacking down anyone that has beef with him.

“Was he getting too close?”

“No, Barou, he was fine.”

“But the interviewer looked like he was asking too many personal questions. Are you sure you’re fine?”

You smiled, shaking your head exasperatedly. Your boyfriend leered at the retreating silhouette of the reporter, and he pulled you close to his side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, practically glowering with such a hateful aura that you realized for the first time in your life that these poor reporters were probably risking their lives every time they approached him for anything.

“I have you with me. I’m sure anyone with half a brain cell would know not to mess with you,” you expertly consoled him. You placed a hand over his, scanning the room to make sure there wasn’t anybody else that would want to speak to either of you.

Barou’s dating life had quickly been flipped upside down after his texts had been leaked, and while it was a lot for you to take in at first, you thought you dealt with things pretty gracefully. You and Barou decided to come clean to the public, and if anything, it only brought you closer to him. It was fun, being able to finally talk about dating him openly and without needing to watch your back, and seeing Barou get all antsy was rather enjoyable too.

“You’d be surprised,” he grumbled. “Those Blue Lock idiots have a hard time not stealing shit off of me.”

“That’s Blue Lock,” you giggled. “Most people in society are pretty good about not taking things that belong to others.”

He lifted your hand to kiss the back of it gently, letting out a small huff. “They better. If I catch anyone staring at you for too long, I’ll make them regret it.”

You nodded sagely, all-too-used to Barou’s violent but well meant sentiments. “Much appreciated, Barou.”

MICHAEL KAISER!

gets even more annoying. im so sorry i wish he was normal too.

It takes every single fiber inside of Kaiser to not go screaming his victory off the rooftops when you agree to start dating him. Frankly, you’re more surprised that you’ve managed to keep things under wraps for this long. He’s courted you in the most outlandish ways possible that you thought surely somebody somewhere must have picked up the reason why Kaiser’s been buying out every flower shop in a good ten mile radius. He’s persevered just for you, even though he’s bemoaned how tragic it is that he can’t show off his beautiful partner to the whole wide world. But now that the word’s out, Kaiser can finally live out the power couple fantasy that he’s always drooled over! He’ll openly spoil you with all sorts of gifts and shower you with as many kisses and compliments as he wants in public, parading around with your arm in his knowing that you were meant for the public’s adoration just as much as he was.

“Kaiser,” you started. The annoyance in your voice was thick, and you could pretty much feel every vein in your body popping from how much self-control it was taking to not blow your lid. “Kaiser, I thought we left the excessive bouquets behind us once we made it official.”

“Well, it’s like we’re dating for realsies-realsies now. Is it wrong for me to want to spoil you so much? You’re my darling, my sweet darling who I love more than anyone in the world,” the blond giggled, proudly holding up the giant bouquet of blue roses. The flowers were wrapped beautifully in colorful paper, and you could tell that they were raised and prepared with an expert hand. These weren’t cheap flowers, and you could bet your left kidney that the bouquet would cost more than anything you’ve ever owned in your life.

“Kaiser,” you repeated with a sterner tone. The boy frowned, clearly sensing your disappointment.

“Do you not like them? I can always get you another bouquet-”

“-I thought I told you not to spoil me with such lavish gifts.” You still reached your arms out and took the bouquet for him, not able to bear the hurt expression he had. The last thing you wanted Kaiser to think was that you didn’t love him back or that his affections were wasted on you, but you’d much rather escape the public’s scrutiny when it came to Kaiser romping outside and raising up a storm in his attempts to impress you. “I’d much rather have you instead. But still… Thank you for the flowers. They’re truly lovely.”

He perked up when he noticed the way you ran your fingers over the blossoms, the same blue roses that were emblematic of him. He struck his usual shit-eating grin, sticking his chest out proudly as he pushed his long blond hair back.

“You’re very welcome,” he laughed. “Next time, you should come buy them with me so the paparazzi can get pictures and talk about how good you look with me, and then we can go out to a-”

“-If you do that, you’re going to sleep on the couch for the next decade.”

He spluttered, “B-But darling-! That’s not very fair!”

DON LORENZO!

cool as a cucumber!

Lorenzo’s always been a pretty chill guy outside of soccer. Even when he’s playing his role on the field, he’s kept his level head at shutting down any striker that comes his way. He’s relaxed even when it comes to dating you, and as long as you’re fine with calling the shots, he’s fine with whatever it is you want to do. Maybe that was why you managed to keep your relationship with him private for so long, because no one ever suspected that he’d be up to something behind closed doors. But even when word gets out, he puts his hands up and grins, almost as if to say ‘you guys finally got me.’ He likes having curve balls thrown at him; how else is anyone supposed to raise their value? Maybe this is a test to show the world how much you’re worth to him, and being appraised in the eyes of the public is the best way to show how much the two of you are truly meant for each other.

“You know,” Lorenzo's lanky arm wrapped around your waist, and his hand rested right above your hip. The security guards around you keep up their job, forming a protective barrier around you and the laidback defender as the two of you stroll through the streets of Japan to go sightseeing. “I thought you’d make more of a fuss than this when we were found out. I guess we got lucky that the cat got out of the bag overseas rather than back home in Italy, huh?”

You shrugged. You could see passerby craning their heads or going on their tiptoes to steal glimpses at the two of you, yet if Lorenzo caught onto it, he made no sign. He looked like the perfect example of composed leisure. A comfortable smile on his lips, sleepy eyes, and the way he was draped all over you made it obvious that it didn’t matter to him what everyone else thought.

“They were going to find out eventually. Might as well rip the bandaid off in one fell swoop. Don’t you agree?” You asked. You peered up at him with loving eyes, and Lorenzo moved himself to steal a kiss off of your forehead. You laughed brightly at the gesture, finding it easier to ignore the stares of the crowd around you.

“Yeah,” he calmly agreed. “Especially if it means getting to kiss you like that in public. You have no idea how hard it is to pretend there’s nothing there. I’d much rather be able to hold your hand and take you out on nice dates without worrying about what others might think. Pretty freeing to have that option open now.”

“You better stay true to your word then.” You placed your hand on top of his hand, the one that was on top of your hip. You laced your fingers into his, smiling from ear-to-ear at the thought of finally being able to do all those couple-y things out in the open without fretting so much about the public. “I’ll hold you accountable.”

“Hold me accountable all you want,” the dark-haired man chuckled before stealing another kiss from you. “This is just the beginning for the two of us.”

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #barou shouei #michael kaiser #don lorenzo #x reader #my writing

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ellaphnt · 5 months

Text

Shuro’s status of nobility has been brought up a few times when discussing his fight with Laios. I’m sure there’s credibility to the argument but the way it’s been used makes me go, “huh??”

I’ve seen his upbringing used in a negative context, usually to flatten his reasons for fighting with Laios. “oh he’s used to people listening to him so he’s never met anyone who doesn’t do exactly what he says” or “he’s never been exposed to anyone new or any new perspectives and that’s why he hated Laios”. I don’t think these opinions are salient in fan spaces but I saw it enough times I wanted to talk about it.

I feel like we just, forgot that Toshiro is a foreigner? The only poc in the party? And never interacted with gnomes, dwarves, and halffoots since they don’t live in the east? (well, the last point depends on how much you’ve seen from the Adventurer’s Bible)

Compared to everyone else, he probably had the MOST exposure to new people and experiences. And yet he was able to, best he can, quickly assimilate and harmonize with everyone in his new party. Regardless of what he thought about them, it seemed everyone else thought he was amicable. As a poc (and East Asian specifically), that’s mission accomplished.

With all that effort into making himself culturally digestible, it’s no wonder he resented/envied Laios. He put in all this effort to learn their status quo, to not offend the new people he’s meeting, only for Laios to not give him the same consideration. Both of them were socially inept in some way, but only one of them felt the need to do something about it. It’s important to note that their fight was a turning point for Laios too - he realize he had to be more aware and present for his team.

So Toshiro didn’t want to say no outright because it might set back the bonds he’s trying to form. Confrontation is hard, confrontation in a new country is harder. He settles for “close enough” because hey, it’s not that big of a deal. Their opinion of me is way more important than obtaining respect for myself. I’m the foreigner. This has the consequence of making him a pushover, but I digress. He seems to identify himself more as a foreigner than nobility.

And that had to do with separating his identity! The identify he has at his house was kept VERY separate from the one he has with Laios and co. He doesn’t want Laios’ party to know that he is nobility. He doesn’t even care that they call him by “first name”, albeit butchered. He never mentioned the retainers to them (since Chilchuck had to ask who they were).

The retainers are people he’d rather keep at a distance due to their connection with his dad. This might be why he joined Laios’ party solo given the opportunity. But as we see in the image below, they followed him into the dungeon ANYWAYS. You can’t convince me he wanted them to do that. They watch from a distance, disregarding Toshiro’s independence. They don’t always listen to him, they do what they think is best for him, which means they actually follow MAIZURU. To her, his status as their young master is very important, and therefore he needs to be waited on hand and foot. It’s not that he’s used to people doing stuff for him, it’s moreso Maizuru does it regardless.

What drives both identities is an inability to assert himself. He don’t think highly of himself (living under his father’s shadow) and it shows in how people treat him. With Laios and others, he had the opportunity to shape a new identity, but because Laios was the one that introduced him, he and everyone else just accepted the misconceptions. I’m sure Toshiro noted his surprisingly strong influence on his team, something he hasn’t achieved.

With his retainers and Maizuru specifically, she doesn’t put faith in his decisions. She tsked at the fact they went to save Falin, but obeyed anyways because he’s never asserted himself before. (Reminder that assertion is him on his knees requesting their help - the hierarchy of his upbringing does not feel ingrained in him. Giving me overly respectful and considerate vibes, the silly guy)

So he CAN do it! He CAN shape how people see him if he is able to open up a bit more. Rather than his nobility, it’s moreso that he’s never trusted anyone to open up to in the first place. He doesn’t fit in back home. He’s distant from Maizuru, he’s distant from Hien. He’s distant from his brothers and parents. He basically never had friends until Laios. This is his first friend too!!!

He finally opened up to him, and that’s going to pave the way for his character development in the future. He now has someone he can trust, someone to put his faith in, and someone to teach him how to communicate better. By airing his resentment, now all that’s left is that envy/admiration. He’s going to learn from that.

Edit: just because I like keeping things together, here’s more discussion about this post :P

#oh my god I did not expect this to be so LONG #hopefully this is the last of my thoughts for a while #I didn’t even touch on other factors affecting his character!!!#thank goodness everyone else has those covered #there’s some great analyses out there #I love when a character’s overarching story is about friendship #and the struggles with the nuance of interacting with people #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #toshiro nakamoto #shuro dungeon meshi #laios touden #shuro

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daisyblog · 14 days

Text

Angel Baby

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN welcome their second baby, and Arthur becomes a big brother.

warning: childbirth, labour, birth, hospital

9th of September 2024

If Louis was glad he made any decision in life, he was thankful that he decided to come straight home from the festival in Munich. He had managed to sleep for a little bit on the flight home but he couldn’t wait to get into bed next to YN and wake up with Arthur in the morning.

Spotting Harry’s car on the driveway wasn’t unusual because he would often stay with YN and Arthur when Louis was away. Opening the front door, Louis was trying to open the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb anyone.

The dim light that was on in the living room caught Louis eye. But what surprised him was YN and Harry wide awake. YN was sat on the birthing ball and Harry on the edge of the sofa.

“Hey! Is everything alright?”. Louis walked further into the room, walking closer to YN as he placed a peck to her forehead, aware Harry was in the room.

“I’m having contractions but worry pants over here”. YN signaled towards Harry with her thumb. “Thinks I’m about to give birth within the next five minutes the way he’s been frantically phoning everyone”.

“M’sorry for being worried about my sister”. Harry joked as he looked to Louis for some back up.

“To be fair love, Harry was only looking after you”. Louis kneeled down in front of YN as she still sat on the large grey ball. “How painful are they?”.

YN knew he was referring to the contractions, as he gently rubbed his hand over her thigh. “They’re manageable at the moment”.

“Well we’ll keep timing them and let the hospital know when you need to go in”. Louis smiled up at YN who shared the same look. “We’re having a baby!”.

---

Within two hours, the contraction had become quite intense. YN felt her tummy tighten as the pain spread from her bump around to her back.

“Birth scares me”. Harry voiced as he watched his sister cling to Louis. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her head burned into his shoulder as she breathed through the pain.

“Keep breathing through it babe…you’re doing amazing”. Louis rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head.

As the contraction ended YN sat back up straight as she took a rest in between. Knowing another one could hit her at any point. “I’m sure I said that you could give birth this time”.

Louis chuckled as he remembered the conversation during Arthur’s birth. “You did…but I didn’t think there would be a next time then…and also I don’t have the right body parts”.

“I forgot how painful this was”. YN held onto Louis’ hand as she prepared for the next one.

---

“I can’t do this…I can’t do this”. YN repeated as she sat on the edge of the sofa, Harry now being the victim of the famous hand squeeze.

“You can…you did it once and you’re going to make Arthur so proud when he finds out you’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted”. Harry encouraged, knowing mentioning Arthur would help.

“I can feel another one”. YN tensed up as she anticipated the pain. Her eyes closed tight as she dreamed about when she would have gas and air at the hospital.

Louis appeared with a bottle of water just in time as he cringed at how tight YN was squeezing her brothers hand.

---

Harry stayed at the house to look after Arthur, whilst YN and Louis were at the hospital. Anne was on her way but this was the downside of living so far away from her Mum.

Like she had done many years ago, YN kept the gas and air nozzle securely in her hand sucking on it probably more than she needed to.

“Do you have any children already? Or is this your first?”. The midwife asked as she sat in the room wi the couple.

“We have a little boy, Arthur…he’s nine”. Louis couldn’t hide his smile as he spoke about their son, and showed her a quick photo of him.

The midwife’s eyes widened. “Waw! He’s the image of you…perhaps this one will look like Mummy”.

---

YN was laying on the bed, the nozzle still attached to her hand. Louis was moving the hair out of her face as she now had a layer of sweat covering her forehead.

“YN I’m so sorry my darling…but we’re going to have to break your waters because your contraction are starting to slow down”. The midwife’s voice was full of sympathy, knowing how painful it could be.

With the tool in her hand ready, YN held onto Louis tightly. “You’re so strong and I’m so proud of you”.

The pain was something YN hadn’t felt before. “AHHH!”. She cried out in pain as she felt the water burst from her.

“You were amazing darling…keep sucking that gas and air for me”. The midwife gave an encouraging smile.

---

The contraction become more frequent and YN could not keep still as she moved from different positions. If she was not bouncing on the ball, she was sat in the chair next to the bed. If she was not in the birthing pool, she was clinging onto Louis, hoping it would ease the pressure.

As Louis massaged the bottom of YN’s back, getting a sense of deja vu, he felt her tense up more than she had been.

“Babe? You alright?”. He swallowed thickly, as YN froze.

“I think…I think I can feel the baby”. At the words, the midwife shot up from her seat and quickly glanced under YN’s gown.

“Lie down on the bed for me…baby’s head is crowning”. The midwife moved around the room quickly gathering everything she needed.

YN laid down like she was told, her legs up in the correct position, trying to relax as she was about to meet her baby.

---

“Baby’s head is out…and I think in about three to four pushes, you’re going to be cuddling your little baby”. The midwife spoke from her position at the end of the hospital bed.

Louis quickly glanced down and could see his baby’s head. Seeing his babies be born was something he found breathtaking and he was in absolute awe of YN for doing it.

YN found strength within and began to push. She repeated the action over and over. Louis was by her side as he waited for the sound to fill the room.

And the sound of a newborn cry finally filled the room, as tears ran down Louis and YN’s cheeks when the little one was placed on YN’s chest.

“I’m so proud of you…and I love you so much”. Louis left several kisses on YN’s head before the final one on her lips.

“I couldn’t have done it without you…I love you”. YN’s voice was tired but the adrenaline was pumping through her.

“Mummy and Daddy love you little one”. YN gently kissed the newborns head.

---

YN couldn’t decide who was more excited as Arthur, Harry and her Mum walked through the hospital room door.

Arthur ran straight to his Mum, who was laid underneath a blanket. “I’ve missed you my boy”. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I’ve missed you too Mum…I’ve been nagging Uncle Harry to come and see you”. Arthur held onto his mother for longer.

Harry and Anne hugged YN and congratulated her and Louis on the birth of their baby. The room was full of happiness and smiles as they looked at the little baby in Louis’ arms.

“Hey lad…do you want to have your first big brother cuddle?”. Louis felt his heart melt as Arthur eagerly nodded and ran over to his father’s side.

Arthur sat in the chair, waiting for Louis to place the newborn into his arms. The minute Louis placed the baby into Arthur’s hands, the four adults all shared a loving look, and wiped the tears away from their cheeks.

“Hi baby…I’m Arthur, your big brother”. Louis and YN shared a look as they knew this was the right time to share the news.

“And this is Elsie…your little sister”.

---

ynstyles and louist91

liked by lottietomlinson, annetwist and 1,672,665 others

ynstyles Our babies🤍Welcome to the world Elsie Johannah Tomlinson🩷 View all 10,733 comments

lottietomlinson Our sweet Arthur and Elsie🥹🤍

annetwist My heart could burst❤️I’m one lucky Nanny🩵🩷🩷 ⌞ynstyles The absolute best🥰❤️

the.daisytomlinson I love being an auntie to all these babies❤️

thephoebetomlinson my beautiful nephew and niece🩵🩷Auntie Phee loves you lots xx

gemmastyles We are so lucky❤️Aunties little cuties xx

louisfan5 OMG THE BABY IS HERE!!!

louisfan3 Louis a girl dad🩷🩷🩷

harryfan9 Harry is an uncle to another girl🥹💕

Taglist :@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly @macy-tpwk @wh0s-nadii @lillisummers

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fic #louistomlinson #louis tomlinson writing #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson fanfic #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson x y/n #louis tomlinson x oc #louis tomlinson x you #louis tomlinson series #louis tomlinson x styles!reader #louis tomlinson x yn!styles #louis tomlinson x harry's sister #louis x you #louis x reader #louis x yn #louis x y/n #harry styles x reader

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