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#i still gotta make the girl from 1 & 2 and the boy from 2..
hurtspideyparker · 1 month
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If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2
Read Part 1 here
Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?
Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore
Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house
Tony: Hm. Makes sense
-
Vision cooked dinner:
Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*
Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*
Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*
Bucky: *just stares at full plate*
Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza
-
Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl
Bucky: Ok.
Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-
Bucky: Give me your phone
Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*
Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)
Sam: BOY-
-
Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-
Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*
Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you
Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him
-
Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert
Tony: Um, why?
Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !
Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.
Peter:
Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...
-
Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together
Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera
Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond
Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind
Bucky: Wanna go for a run?
Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*
-
*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*
Bucky: Dishwasher?
Peter: Dishwasher :)
(later that day)
Bucky: I've decided to let the child live
Peter: YoU wHaT?!
-
Thwip
Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here
Thwip
Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it
Thwip
Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago
*giggling from the ceiling*
Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality
Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!
Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?
Peter: Sor- OOF
*falls out of ceiling vent*
-
Sam: You're in my spot
Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area
Sam: Well that's my spot
Bucky: Did you buy the chair??
Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?
Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*
Sam: Still my spot
Bucky: Still not
Sam: *sits on him*
Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-
Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-
BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-
(one hour later)
Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...
Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*
Steve: I think I left something in my car
-
Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there
Wanda: UGH you're so protective
Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him
Steve:
Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want
Wanda: Really?
Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book
-
Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?
Bucky: *glaring*
Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -
Natasha: Yes it's PMS
Wanda: He's got it bad
Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?
Bucky:
Bucky: I like chocolate
-
Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time
Pepper: Why is Vision here?
Wanda: I get sad when he's gone
Natasha: Why is Pietro here?
Pietro: Slay queens
Wanda: Moral support I think
Maria: Why is Peter here?
Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad
Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?
Peter: ME ME ME
-
Steve: Pancakes or waffles?
Natasha: Pancakes
Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker
Natasha: Then why would you ask-
Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion
*2 minutes later*
Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?
Clint: Waffles
Steve: Oh no.
-
Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !
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tangled
JJ Maybank x toddler!sister!reader
(REQUEST): thinking of baby sister maybank maybe being 1-2 and jj is really struggling with her hair, and he wants her hair out of her face but doesn’t know what to do. so sarah and kie step in
warning(s): N/A
a/n: thank you for the request, m'love. if i'm being honest i may rewrite this in the future because i have unfortunately had very little motivation to write this week. :( but even still i hope that you enjoy.
also, to everyone who has written me a request, i promise i'm working on them! they should all hopefully be finished by this week or the next.
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“Ow!” Y/N squeaked, her plump digits failing to swat away JJ’s hands.
Her elder brother huffed, struggling to tame the toddler’s head of unruly curls. It was hard enough to pull all of the odds and ends of her hair into a ponytail far too small for his large fingers–let alone when she was intervening in the already troublesome process. 
“I know, I know,” JJ said, instinctively jutting out one of his hands to keep a wriggling Y/N from jumping out of his lap. He just barely managed to foil yet another one of her escape attempts. “You’ve just gotta sit still for a minute, peanut. Almost done.”
Y/N continued to whine, squinting against the harsh sun whilst JJ fiddled around with an elastic band in several failed attempts to create a functioning ponytail. The task only got harder as time trekked on—Y/N was antsy to join Kie and Sarah up at the bow of the HMS Pogue, and the more she tried to squirm her way to freedom, the worse JJ’s makeshift ponytails became.
“Jesus, dude. What the Hell are you doin’ to our mini Pogue, huh?” John B teased from the helm after several minutes of Y/N’s aggravated complaints, tonguing his cheek in amusement.
JJ had managed to get a good chunk of Y/N’s hair held sturdily away from her face, but several of her thick curls still fell like a veil over her large blue eyes. 
“Don’t listen to him, Jay. You’re a pro,” Pope laughed from behind him. JJ glared from behind the lenses of his shades.
“Ha-ha-fucking-ha. You ever tried to do this shit, man? It’s harder than it looks.”
The girls laughed as they caught a glimpse of JJ’s masterpiece. Y/N pouted, blonde curls spilling over her chubby face. “Need some help over there, Jay?” Kiara finally asked, taking pity on JJ who now wore a nearly identical pout to his baby sister. 
The boy sighed, running a hand through his own hair. “Please.” He scooped up his sister and carefully set her down on her unstable feet. “She’s all yours.”
Y/N, content with her newfound freedom, barrelled over to where her favourite Pogues had been sitting all afternoon: lounging around as they tanned and took swigs from their respective beers. Sarah laughed as the young girl fell onto her legs, wasting no time in sitting the little firecracker between herself and Kie.
“Wow,” Sarah said, observing the elder Maybank’s work up close. It was worse than she thought. “JJ really did a number on you, huh?”
“Jay bad at hair!” Y/N accused, brows furrowed in annoyance as she pointed a crude finger at her big brother. JJ rolled his eyes.
“Did better than you could've, peanut.” Y/N stuck out her tongue in response, and the girls chuckled as JJ reciprocated her gesture.
“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. We’ll take care of it,” Kie said, carefully undoing JJ’s handiwork without so much of a wince from the toddler. Sarah dipped into her bag to find a hairbrush and the few extra elastics she always kept on hand. “Gonna make you look so pretty, bub.”
“Promise?” The little girl beamed up at her, and Kie lightly pinched at her cheek.
“Promise.”
It took an embarrassingly short period of time for Kie and Sarah to get Y/N’s hair in order, brushing it into two braided pigtails on either side of her small head. The smile never left Y/N’s face as they worked, efficient and gentle in their process—the complete opposite to JJ’s hectic routine.
“Alrighty,” Sarah declared as she manoeuvred the final hairband, twisting the elastic a few extra times around the toddler’s braid to keep it in place. “You’re all done, Y/N!”
“I look pretty?” Y/N asked, eyes shining with anticipation. Kiara tucked a stray curl behind her ear.
“The prettiest.”
Y/N wasted no time in toddling back over to where JJ was now busy talking to the other two boys, her cheeks dimpled with pride.  “Jay!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement. The blond looked down at her, a grin breaking out over his face as he caught sight of his baby sister’s new hairdo. “Pretty?”
JJ chuckled, lifting her back into his lap and pressing a sloppy kiss to her nose.
“Beautiful as ever, munchkin.” Y/N wrapped her small arms around his bronzed shoulders, and JJ gave another quick kiss to her temple. “What’d’ya say we get Kie and Sarah to do your hair all the time now, huh?”
He barely had enough time to complete his sentence as an empty beer can came flying at his shoulder, thrown by a now smirking Kiara.
“You wish, Maybank!”
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flkwh0re · 8 months
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Babysitter (Pt. 2)
Warnings: Mommy kink (W), Age gap, Squirting, Masturbation, Breast/body worship, Strap-on usage (R receiving), can’t remember anymore.
A/n: Sorry this took a little long, I wasn’t busy just lazy buuuut milf mommy wanda is here!! enjoy! wrote this and listened to two mcr albums omgg it’s 1 am 😓
Wc: 1,5k
Tag: @alexawynters
part one here
yet to be proof read
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Wanda stood outside of your door room, flowers in her hand hesitant to knock. She was nervous to see announce the news to you about her finalized divorce with Jarvis.
As she brought her hand to knock, she heard the voices of two women and your laughter. She was sure she told you she’d be over today, had she forgot? Perhaps you knew but invited your friends over during the same time.
Wanda firmly knocked and waited a second, when you showed no answer, she was pissed. She knocked even harder the second time, the voices inside the apartment fell silent. Then you appeared at the door, “Oh my god Wanda! Hi, I missed you. Uhm, my friends are here so you know.” You said nervously, hoping she’d get your tone.
“Oh I’m well aware, what happened to our plans for today huh? I told you I’d be here at this time, but you go and invite people over to intrude our time!” She said sternly, alight fear rising in you. Suddenly, Wanda burst out into laughter. “Oh sweet girl, I’m playing. Though, I am a little sad you forgot.”
You felt bad, you couldn’t believe you forgot about Wanda wanting to come over. “I’m sorry Wanda, I can ask- " You were cut off by Kate, your best friend, wrapping her arm around your shoulder.
“Miss Maximoff!! What are you doing here at Y/n’s apartment?” Kate asked, you internally cursed the situation. “How do you know Wanda?” You asked, putting Kate’s arm off your shoulder. “Oh she was just my neighbor, I knew her mom pretty well too.” Wanda pipes in.
Well shit, you thought to yourself. “Here Wanda, come in and I’ll kick them out.” You said to Wanda as you pulled her through the door.
“Alright Kate, gotta kick you and Yelena out. Wanda and I have something to talk about.” You told her with a sarcastic smile, to which she cackled.
“The only discussing you’ll be doing is sex.” She said, you slapped her arm harshly causing her to wince. You could hear Wanda snicker at Kate’s comment, then Yelena stepped into the hallway.
“Yelena, please collect your girlfriend. I have something to do.” “Ha, yea do for sure.” Kate remarked, “Yelena please!” You said to the blonde girl, everyone's laughter growing.
“Yea okay, see ya!” She said, pulling her girlfriend to the door finally giving you and Wanda your much needed alone time.
“I am so sorry Wanda.” You apologized to which she shook her head. “No, it’s okay, it was funny. I still am a little upset you forgot about me.” She said with a faux pout, “Guess I’ll have to teach you bout that.” She placed soft little nips and pecks on your neck, a little moan passing your lips.
Wanda backed away and looked up at you, smiling. “That’s gonna have to wait though, I have a surprise.” You raised a brow out of curiosity, it wasn’t often the older woman had surprises.
“What’s that?” You questioned, as she gave you an orange envelope and flowers. “Open it.”
You cautiously opened the delicately sealed envelope. You sat the flowers on the table, to make it easier to get whatever it was out. You pulled out a piece of paper, your eyes scanned over the paper and your jaw dropped in shock as you read the document.
“Wanda, you got the divorce?!” You excitedly remarked as you jump onto her, arms flying around her bringer her into your embrace. “I did baby, we can be together now.” She said as tears welled in her eyes.
“I can’t wait to start this chapter of your life with you baby.” Wanda said smiling largely. “Wait, the boys.” You were worried about them from the start, but you knew Wanda would have a plan. “Don’t worry, they’re a little upset but they still get to see their dad on weekends. Once they find out though that you’ll take his place, they’ll be happy.”
You felt a little sad at her statement ‘take his place’. You knew she meant well, but you couldn’t help but think about how you ripped a family apart because of your silly childhood crush. That didn’t matter right now though, what mattered to you was that you and Wanda could be happy together. You don’t have to sneak around anymore, and you couldn’t be happier to be with the woman you’ve loved.
“Hey, you okay?” She asked, kissing your nose. “Yea, just thinking.” Wanda hummed, “Why don’t you let mommy do the thinking baby?” Heat rose up your cheeks and you nodded eagerly. “I got us a new toy, I’m excited to try it with you.” She husked in your ear.
“C’mon, let’s go to your room.” She said as she grabbed your hand, leading you down the short hall. You reached the room you and Wanda had done so many sinful acts in, not once did the times feel like they do now. You were now Wanda's for forever, it almost felt like a dream.
"C'mon sweet girl, get on the bed. Mommy wants to show you how proud she is to call you hers." She placed soft kiss on your forehead, and her hands slither down your stomach. She slips your shirt off and graces your skin with her kisses.
Lips linger on your body painfully too long, but you hold back your protest so Wanda can worship your body. "Mommy, please." You finally whined in protest. "Oh, you poor thing! Mommy will stop teasing." She chuckled.
Her hands hooked around your back, unclipping the bra that wrapped around your breast. She worshipped each equally, licking and sucking on your delicate sensitive buds. Lewd noises escaped your lips as she began to grind her crotch against yours. You moaned even louder when you realized she was wearing a strap.
You two hadn't tried one yet, so Wanda was all too excited to fuck her girl into oblivion. "You feel that baby?" You nodded. "It's all for you sweet girl. I've been so eager to us it on you, I knew today would be perfect. Why don't you get on your knees and suck mommy's cock, hm?"
As you got on your knees, Wanda removed her pants and the faux cock hung between her legs. You practically drooled at the sight. It was a satin red color, not extremely big, but big enough to fill you full.
Your soft lips wrapped around the tip of the toy; you throated her cock as well as you could then began to bob your head. Wanda yearned to feel your warm mouth.
"Take your shorts off baby, I want you to touch yourself while I fuck your throat." Wanda demanded, to which you complied. Your nimble fingers rubbed over your clit as Wanda gripped your hair with a fist, hips thrusting the fake dick down your throat.
Your arousal practically dripped onto the floor, and your gags and moans filled Wanda's ears. She couldn't be in more of a blissful state.
"Alright baby, I think you're ready for mommy, aren't you?" You weakly nodded, and she helped you to your feet. She guided you to the bed and helped you lay down.
Her hands spread your legs, and her calloused fingers ran through your folds. She gripped the base of her cock, lining it with your dripping cunt. She pushed herself into your tight hole, the tip reaching your deepest point causing cries to leave your throat.
She steadies her thrust, then begins to slowly pound into you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight around me. Mommy just loves this perfect pussy!" You whined as she fucked into you.
“Fuck mommy I’m so close! Please let me cum.” You squeaked out, Wanda chuckling. “Go on baby, cum on mommy’s cock.” She grunted, her hips snapping rapidly against your own. The base of the strap brushed against her own clit with enough force to bring her to an orgasm, both of your orgasms happening at once.
Her high pitched moans filled your ears, pushing you even harder into your orgasm as she fucked your sensitive cunt. You legs began to shake as she didn’t let up, then liquid gushed out of you onto Wanda’s lower stomach.
Moans ripped from your throat, the sensation of squirting almost too much to bare.
Wanda slipped the cock out of your weak cunt, and undid the straps. She flopped down next to you, “Holy fuck Y/n, that was fucking phenomenal.” She giggled, a smile rising on her face making you smile too. “Yea it was, but I’m really exhausted now. You owe me some cuddles.” You say while making grabby hands at her.
“Ah, ah, let’s get ourselves cleaned up first. After that I’ll cuddle with you all you want baby, remember, you’re mine for forever now.” She said as she placed a soft peck on your lips.
You smiled, “Good. Now let’s go, I’m cold.” You grabbed her arm, pulling her up. You ran off to the bathroom and Wanda followed behind.
“Hey, what about a bath? You’ll get warmed up, cleaned up, and I can cuddle you.” Wanda suggested. “Do I still get my real cuddles later?” She giggled, “Of course.”
She ran the water, and as it filled up she dipped her foot into the tub. Settling into the warm water she piped up when she heard your voice, “You know, I never got to make you cum.. mommy.” She scoffed, “Get your cute butt in here.”
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mattitties · 9 months
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Boyfriend, pt 2 - matt sturniolo
you guys asked, so i delivered (hopefully)
part 1 here
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I left the party last night feeling on top of the world. I recounted everything to my best friend the second Matt had left and she came back to me.
“I came back from the bathroom and saw you guys totally hitting it off, so I just stood back and watched. I thought he was about to bend you over the bar and fuck you right there,” she told me. 
It’s now the next morning and I’m trying to distract myself and not think about the fact that he hasn’t texted me yet. It’s only 10 AM, so I really shouldn’t be worried, but as someone who doesn’t talk to boys literally ever, I am naturally very worried. 
As the hours pass and it’s now 2 PM, I go into my roommate’s room. “Why hasn’t he texted me? Do you think he was just fucking with me? What if I didn’t give him the right number and he’s now texting some other hotter bitch instead of me? What if I was-” I start to ramble before she cuts me off.
“Oh my god, shut up! It’s been like 14 hours, chill out! He’s gonna text you, and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. We don’t know anything about him, he could be sleeping still or he could be having a busy day. Take a Xanax or something, good gracious,” she tells me, finishing just as my phone vibrates.
I check it absentmindedly, fully expecting it to be my mom or a spam text, but instead I see an unknown number.
Hey it’s Matt, just wanted to see when your free to hang out?
I let out a shriek and show my roommate my screen.
“Fucking told you!” she says excitedly before her face changes. “Oh boy, he’s one of the fuckers who doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re. You gotta fix that.”
“Oh for sure,” I say, starting to type in my phone.
hey :) i’m free tonight or tmr if either of those work
Tonight is good, I can pick you up around 6 and we can get dinner. How does Boa sound?
“Oh my god. He wants to take me to Boa,” I tell my roommate. I’m just about on the verge of vomiting everywhere.
“Oh fuck yeah! Mr. Moneybags over here!” she cheers.
that sounds great!
Sick, whats your addy so I know where to pick up my gf ;)
I give him my address, turn off my phone, and immediately go to my room to take an everything shower and get ready.
I’m finishing up my hair at 5:30 when I get another text: Leaving now, be there in 15 min. I made reservation for 6
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I was so confident around him last night, but now I feel like a completely different person. I’m terrified I’m gonna be an awkward mess when I get in the car and he’s gonna wonder what happened to the girl he met last night and I won’t even be able to eat I’m so nervous and–
Nope, I’m not worrying anymore. It’s gonna be fine. I triple check everything to make sure I look good, and finally he texts that he’s here.
I grab my bag, go downstairs, and open the front door to our apartment complex, where I’m met with a very familiar face standing next to it. He’s wearing a black short sleeve collared shirt, blue jeans, and a black baseball cap he put on backwards. Man, he looks good as fuck. 
He looks up when he sees me and smiles. “Hi,” he says. “Car’s right there. I was going to come in but then I saw I had to be buzzed into the building and I didn’t know which apartment was yours, so…” It seems that his confidence from last night has lessened quite a bit as well, as now he’s just awkwardly rambling. I find it adorable.
I shake my head and smile. “You’re fine, this is perfect.” I follow his lead to his car, and am surprised when he opens the passenger door for me. “Thank you,” I say as I get in, and he shoots me another quick smile before closing the door and going to the driver’s side. 
“So Boa, huh? You really are trying to show off your YouTube bucks,” I joke.
“Me and my brothers go there a lot, it’s not really that expensive,” he says. 
“Speak for yourself! I was looking at the menu and almost had an aneurysm at the prices!”
He laughs and glances at me. “Well lucky for you, you’re not the one paying, are you?”
We continue our banter for a few minutes before there’s a lull in the conversation. “Do you wanna put some music on? Here’s the aux cord,” he tells me, pulling out a cord.
“Oh,” I say, immediately regretting all my life choices. I am historically NEVER on aux in any situation because my music taste is comprised of Taylor Swift, dad rock, and depressing music. “Um… you may not like my music. We can just play whatever you like.”
He looks at me wearing a tiny frown. “What! You’re the passenger, you get aux. Whatever you play will be fine.”
I sigh dramatically as I plug my phone in and queue Taylor. “Okay, but if you don’t like it, just remember I gave you a chance to say no.” He nods. I watch his face to gauge his reaction as “The Story of Us” starts to play, and I roll my lips into my mouth to hide my laughter when he recognizes the voice. 
“Yayyyy,” he says sarcastically. “I love Taylor Swift…”
The rest of the drive consists of me explaining to him that if he was willing to give her music a try, he would definitely enjoy her music. I was fully expecting him to laugh it off and come back with some smart ass comment about her as nearly every other man does, but he seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying. “You’re right,” he told me. “Maybe we can listen together and you can show me more of her stuff!”
I think I fell in love right there.
When we arrive at Boa, the man nearly eats shit rushing around to open the passenger door for me, and walks slightly ahead of me to get the door for the restaurant. Neither of us have any ounce of the same flirty energy we had last night, but there’s no awkwardness at all. I still can’t believe this is happening. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen, he’s a perfect gentleman, we have so much in common, and he’s actually into me? It seems far too good to be true.
“So,” I say when we get seated, “what exactly made you feel the need to come up to me last night? Did I really look that uncomfortable?”
“Oh, you looked like you were about ready to sink into the floor. I mean, in all honesty, I was kind of eyeing you all night but I didn’t have the courage to come up to you, so I guess I sort of used that as an excuse to do something. Plus saving you from creepy guy and all,” he replies.
“Well, thank you, no matter what your reasoning was.” I look around the restaurant. I feel so out of place, it’s disgusting. I’ve only lived in LA for a couple months, so I still feel like I don’t belong, especially when I end up in the same restaurants that people get papped outside of. But somehow, even in a place like this, I feel oddly safe and at peace with a man that I met not even 24 hours prior. 
I’ve never been much of a great conversationalist; if I’m in a one on one conversation, the other person needs to be a rambler for it to not be awkward. But he’s not a rambler, and we both are just so invested in what the other person is saying that it’s somehow a never ending conversation. We have so much in common – our love for movies, Legos, journaling, us both attempting to get back into reading after going so long without it – I feel like I’ve known him my whole life. It’s so refreshing, and it’s terrifying. I know I’m going to fall for him fast. I may be already, but I can’t be. We just met. 
He pulls me out of my trance by repeating his question. “You ready to go?”
“What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, thanks for paying,” I smile as I get up. 
“Of course! What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay on our first date?” he jokes. 
“Ohhh, our first date? Does that imply there’ll be a second?” I ask as I get in the car.
“Would you like there to be a second?” 
“I mean I guess…” I smirk at him. We’re both looking at each other, smiling ever so slightly. I want nothing more than to kiss him right now, and I’m 99% sure he wants the same based on the way his eyes are shifting focus from my eyes to my lips. I’m about to lean in when –
“I should get you home.”
Oh. I nod. “Yeah… yeah, probably.” I sit back in my seat.
He turns on the car and Taylor Swift blasts through the speakers. “JESUS–” he yells, turning the volume down as we both start laughing. “I know I said you could show me her stuff but let’s take it down a notch, god damn!”
We don’t talk at all during the drive home, but it’s nice. Just the music in the background, and subtle glances between us every so often. When we pull up in front of my apartment complex, he parks the car and turns it off, then starts to get out.
“You don’t need to get out, it’s okay,” I tell him.
“Well I have to make sure you get into your apartment safe, don’t I?” Again, what a gentleman. I didn’t even think people like him existed anymore. I smile to myself and lead the way, taking him up to the 4th floor and down the hall to my door. “I guess this is where I leave you?” he asks.
“Unfortunately, this is where you leave me.” I’m looking up at him, he’s looking down at me. I can tell he wants to say something, and I hope it’s what I think it is.
He opens his mouth, takes a sharp inhale. “Can I kiss you?”
Bingo. I smile and nod, holding his jaw lightly in my hand. He takes my waist with one hand and the back of my head with the other, and our lips collide softly in a matter of seconds. I haven’t kissed many guys, but they’ve always felt just a little off and I never knew why. But this? This feels right. It’s gentle, but our tongues slip into each other's mouths as the kiss grows deeper. I know I need to stop this here, as much as I don’t want to. I give in for a few more seconds before I pull back. 
“I, um… I need to go inside,” I tell him, completely unable to wipe the smile off my face.
“Okay,” he says, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll text you, because yes, there definitely will be a second date.”
“Good.” I kiss him one last time before I unlock my door. “Goodnight, Matt.”
“Goodnight.”
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i probably won’t do a part 3 because idk how to keep it interesting from here but if you have other fic requests lmk and i’ll do my best 😚
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gettinontopic · 2 months
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This is so transphobic like what the hell is this
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[Image Id: A large addition to a tumblr poat reading "Also if I'm going to be honest, passing as a man is also just easier than passing as a woman. The rules to being a man and passing as a man are much more lenient than being a woman or passing as a woman. Trans women have to worry about shit like "I need to wear an outfit that distracts people from the fact I have an adams apple, and not allow people to see that I have shoulders, and learn makeup and basically become a voice actor and etc. and maybe I won't be called a man today" (and if you pass too well and the wrong cis guy feels guilty about being attracted to you, you get murdered meanwhile if you're a trans guy and you wanna pass as a man, you gotta like have short hair and hide or remove your boobs and at this point you can already just go to the grocery store and most people will see you as a man. Once you get facial hair and a deeper voice, most people will just see you as some guy. Like I don't understand why transmascs insist on this idea that they could never really pass. Like the idea that trans man who passes is almost far-fetched. Weird as hell." End Id]
Lets upack this shall we?
1."Passing as a man is easier than passing as a woman"
No it's not. The rules to being a man and passing as a men as strict as lots of rules for women. Have you ever seen a cis guys who fails to pass? They're called names, theyre physically beat, and theyre often ostracized from their cis peers just as fast as any trans person. Cis boys cant even pass half the time by the rules they made. Quit fucking lying about men just magically having it so easy.
Your experiences as passing as a man aren't universal and if you've never passed as one what makes you think it's fucking easy?
Also god forbid you're a black man, or a black man who is into something deemed feminine. Shit I've seen guys call black men women for wearing a damn hair bonnet.
Oh not to mention I'm only a man to transphobes when they can call me a "dangerous black man" only to switch back to tryibg to detransition me by saying "you can just be a masc girl!"
2.Adams apple
While you have to hide yours, I have to wear shit that distracts people that I *don't* have one. Cause, and I know this is wild, if they expect you not to have one for being a women, what do they expect me to have for being a man? Hmm? And if you're a man who's adams apple never came in? I've seen them called girls to. Shit I've heard a guy called not manly for missing his, and he was still in puberty!!
3.Shoulders
While you have to hide you shoulders, I have to do whatever I can to have the.. small shoulders on men? maybe if youre in a "non manly" field like music or art, but I do gym work. I better look likeit regardless of the disability that effacts my muscles growth and development or I am called maam by every guy there. Which sucks btw.
4. Makeup and voice acting:
Trans men also are regularly advised to wear makeup that masculinizes them and do voice training. thats some of our oldest passing tips. thats litterally never been unique to trans women. what the FUCK kinda of implications are you trying to put out here?
5. Murder:
Hey did you know cis guys will murder trans men bc they were attracted to them and then found out they werent "real men" and then kill them. shit cis women also kill us if they find out they were attracted to us and we aren't their ideal man anymore. do u know how men who hear im butch and into women behave?
Fuck right the fuck off trying to tokenize the murder lf trans women while throwing trans men murders in the "that doesn't happen" bin.
6. How many times have we said short hair and no boobs dont fucking automatically gets us gendered correcly!! We have voices that have to be trained, we have muscles were expected to build,and some men even watch the way you walk to guess if you have a dick or not.
Listen to any trans men. any of us for five minutes. those things do not making an easily passing trans man fuck you for lying about our experiences as not a trans man.
7. "You gotta like have short hair or remove your boobs"
Untrue! just Untrue. we also have to preform the rules of manhood really well. ive seen beareded transmen clocked for like so many different other reasons and you wouldn't listen to those men if it would save all trans people lives forever. cis men constantly dig at other men presentation to keep each other in line. Its a regular for them.
Also: not all of want to pass with those features. I deserve to have long hair and not bind and still pass as a man and you suck for defining everything around passing.
8. I don't know why you insist on this idea that trans women never really pass without obscene work (when ive met trans women that admit they have it easy by throwing on a dress and wearing her hair down) and that all trans men who have ascess to transition magically do pass (When multiple of us transitioning have said we dont)
If we can't talk about the ones who don't pass then you kinda can just sweep away the idea we don't face discrimination or danger and that's getting us killed actually.
None of us have said we can all never really pass any who say they can't are usually speaking on their own experiences. Because you want us all to pass so bad you don't care that we don't, and that it gets us backlash and hurt.
Also, if you ever read this, kiss my black ass and go reevaluate what makes you think you should speak on experiences that aint yours as if you're the one with the Hard Cold Facts.
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justagalwhowrites · 6 days
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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 2: Teenagers
You and Joel adjust to each other as you struggle with Ellie. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 1 found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
CW: Mild suicidal ideation. Mention of grief and child loss. Mention of parent loss. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.
Length: 13.4k
A/N: For some reference because I haven't explicitly stated their ages, Joel is turning 42 in this chapter and was about to turn 37 in the flashback at the start of this chapter. Reader is 36 (meaning they were the same ages when their kids were born.)
Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
“Dad, please!” 
Joel sighed, leaning against his counter and sipping his coffee, his 16-year-old daughter standing in front of him with wide, pleading eyes. 
“It’s a school night, baby girl,” he said. “We both gotta be up early tomorrow and…” 
“And we could play hooky!” She said. “Celebrate your birthday, go to Waffle House…” 
“I don’t like waffles.” 
“Those are for my benefit,” she replied. “You can get your smothered hash browns and see if they’ll put candles in them so you can celebrate being an old man.” 
“I can’t just call into work because it’s my birthday tomorrow, kiddo,” he said. “And your friend should have her party on the weekend…” 
“But her birthday’s today!” She said. “It’s sweet 16, please! Everyone’s going, basically no one is going to be at school on Thursday because of it, please Dad!” 
He sighed again, Sarah still looking so hopeful in front of him. 
And then, her face shifted. 
“We could go see the new Curtis and Viper tomorrow,” she smirked, brows raised conspiratorially. “We’ll probably have the theater to ourselves so we can make fun of it.” 
Joel clenched his jaw to keep from smiling. 
“Come on, Dad,” she said. “You worked so late on your birthday last year that we didn’t get to do anything. Please?” 
He sighed. 
“What would you miss at school tomorrow?” 
“Basically nothing!” She said quickly, eyes lighting up. “I have exam review but I got As on all my homework in that class so I don’t need it and…” 
“Jesus, you’re a bad influence,” he muttered, taking a sip of coffee. Sarah squealed, slamming into him, throwing her arms around his neck. 
“Thank you thank you thank you!” She said, her voice muffled by his shirt before she pulled back at looked up at him, practically beaming. “We’re going to have so much fun tomorrow!” 
“Somethin’ tells me you’re more excited about having fun tonight than hanging out with me tomorrow,” he shook his head but smiled all the same. “Who all’s goin’ to this thing tonight? There gonna be boys and drinking and shit?” 
“Dad,” she gave him a look. 
“You can act all grown up all you want, baby girl, but you’re still a kid,” he said. “Want you to have fun but don’t want you doing anything too dangerous…” 
“My friends don’t drink…” 
“You say that now,” he muttered. 
“…and Brit’s parents will be there so while there will be boys, nothing’s going to happen with the boys.” 
“Alright,” he sighed. “But you gotta promise me you’re gonna be safe, no gettin’ in the car with someone who’s been drinking. Even just one beer is too much and you call me if you don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you, you won’t be in trouble and…” 
“I know, Dad,” she rolled her eyes but smiled a little. “Don’t worry so much. I don’t plan on getting drunk anytime soon. Maybe inject heroin under my fingernails but…” 
“Your fingernails, huh?” Joel teased. 
“Well yeah,” she said. “Gotta hide the track marks.” 
There was a honk from the driveway and Sarah grabbed what was left of her coffee - more creamer than actual coffee but Joel still liked to humor her - and chugged it. 
“That’s Emma,” she said, rinsing out her favorite mug, the chipped one with the owl on it that she’d been drinking hot cocoa out of since she was so small that it was more like room temperature cocoa, and setting it beside the sink. “I’m going to go to her place after school to get ready for the party since you’ll probably be at work, anyway.” 
“Yeah, should stay late and try and wrap up as much as I can since apparently I’m not workin’ tomorrow,” he smirked. “Home by midnight, OK baby girl?” 
“Yup!” She said, giving him a quick hug. He gave her a squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple. “See you tonight!” 
“Be safe!” He called after her as she grabbed her backpack and headed for the front door. 
When she looked back over her shoulder to wave goodbye, he didn’t know it would be the last time he’d ever see her smile. 
***
Thursday, September 26, 2024 
It was still dark outside. 
Joel wasn’t sure what time it was but it was still dark outside so it was OK. He didn’t need to be aware of things like time or hunger or your safety when it was still dark and he was in his daughter’s room. 
He jerked awake not too long after midnight, just like he’d done every year on his birthday ever since Sarah died. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered trying to sleep in his own bed, as though anything would be different. Why would it be different? The only thing that mattered was gone, it couldn’t be different. 
He stared at his ceiling for a while, waiting to see if he’d be able to fall asleep again, if he could shake the feeling of phantom blood on his skin in the red glow of his alarm clock but he couldn’t. So he did what he always did on the morning of his birthday: he went to his daughter’s room. 
Joel rarely went to Sarah’s room now. Maria, his sister in law, probably spent more time in there than he did, coming by every few months while he was on a job to dust and run the vacuum so it didn’t fall to ruin. She was careful to not disturb things when she did, the t-shirt Sarah had worn to sleep in still draped over the back of her desk chair and the book she’d been reading still face down on the page she’d stopped at on her nightstand. He turned on the lamp and sank onto the bed - still unmade, like she’d left it that morning - staring at the poster-covered walls. 
The posters were old now, the sun fading them in the five years that had passed since his daughter had left him behind. It made the room seem like a relic, as though this space was a museum and not a place where someone had lived once, and it set Joel on edge. 
Five years. Half a decade without the most important person there’d ever been or ever would be. She’d only been 16 when she died and five years had passed so quickly. Soon, she’d have been gone as long as she’d been here. Soon, to the sun-bleached posters and peeling soccer trophies, it would be like she’d never been here at all. 
He found himself looking at the poster of you more than he remembered doing before when he’d been in this room before. It was strange, knowing you existed outside of this liminal space now. You were real, corporeal, a human being with thoughts and feelings and not some imagined thing with an almost disturbingly perfect face someone had invented and put on paper. 
It had been a three days since Joel had seen you last, spending 11 days working with three days off in between. Tommy had been hesitant to schedule him back on duty today of all days but Joel had all but insisted on it. He needed the distraction. More than that, he needed to keep out of trouble. He needed something to keep him from trying to find the person responsible for his daughter’s death and killing them himself. Protecting you was a good enough distraction. 
Yours was the first contract like this Joel had taken on, one that was longer and more involved. Typically, people who needed someone on hand 24/7 didn’t live in Austin, Texas. They passed through and Joel’s job was done in a week, two at most. You were more complicated. 
Part of that was the nature of the job, of course. Working in such close proximity and in such risky situations made shit complicated. 
He’d had to establish rules with you that first day after dropping Ellie off at school. He ground his teeth as you went by a small local coffee shop on your way home, you giving a fake name at the counter as the barista all but stared at you. 
“I’m so sorry,” the girl smiled sheepishly. “But has anyone told you that you look just like…” 
“Oh yeah,” you waved her off. “I get that all the time. Not sure why, I think she’s way prettier.” 
Joel resisted the urge to snap at you until the two of you were back to the car, you still refusing to let him drive as you sipped your overpriced coffee with a contented sigh. 
“Can I help you?” You asked him, brows raised, as you watched him over the rim of your cup. 
“You tryin’ to get yourself killed?” He said. 
“Didn’t realize the coffee shop was so dangerous…” 
“You know what I mean,” he snapped. “You’re bein’ reckless.” 
“I get coffee all the time back home and -”
“And you got yourself a fucking stalker, didn’t you?” He cut you off. “S’why you’re stuck with me, spent too much time runnin’ around doing whatever the fuck you wanted and now you’re payin’ the price.” 
“No, I’m paying the price because the studio is overreacting,” you said, condescension dripping from your voice. “Pretty sure I’d still be sitting in my car sipping a coffee if you were off promising to take a bullet for someone else.” 
You held his gaze as you took a drink, as if to make a point. 
“I don’t know why this is fuckin’ news to you, but you’re one of the most famous people on the goddamn planet,” he snapped. “That shit comes with problems. If you didn’t want to deal with those problems, maybe you shouldn’t have become fuckin’ famous.” 
You looked at him, like you were trying to hold back a laugh, eyebrows raised so high they almost disappeared into your hairline. 
“You think I chose to become famous?” You asked. “You think I wanted this?” 
“Ain’t that why people become actresses,” he said more than asked. 
You just looked at him for a moment, like you were examining him. 
“You don’t have many friends, do you?” You said after a moment. 
He ground his teeth. 
“Got as many as I need,” he said. “Let’s get you home before I have to take a damn bullet because you’re stubborn.” 
“Yes, I’m sure the woman driving that minivan is packing,” you said wryly but putting the car in drive all the same. “Very dangerous.” 
“It’s Texas,” he said, voice flat. “She probably is.” 
But instead of going home, you drove to Whole Foods. Fucking Whole Foods. 
Joel was almost positive it was to piss him off but you completely ignored him as you went up and down the aisles, filling up your cart as he tried to watch for whatever threats might be at a goddamn grocery store while you acted like your goddamn baseball cap made you invisible to whoever might be looking for you. 
“I know you got people for this,” he muttered under his breath, putting his body between you and as much of the rest of the store as he could as you meticulously selected an apple. “Should fuckin’ carry you out of here…” 
“Yes but that would cause a scene, wouldn’t it?” You said, smug. “And that’s even MORE dangerous, right?” 
He narrowed his eyes at you and moved to respond but cut him off. 
“What do you think of this apple?” You thrust it under his nose. “It smells good, right?” 
“It’s a goddamn apple.” 
“Yes, but I need to try to get a teenager to eat it,” you sighed, impatient. “I need it to be appealing. Would you eat it if you were a teenager?” 
“If I tell you yes, will you shut the fuck up and get out of here?” 
“Maybe.” 
“Then yeah, I’d eat the goddamn apple, let’s go.” 
You smiled a little, satisfied, and got several apples and added them to the cart before taking your sweet time going through the rest of the store. 
Eventually, you finished your shopping trip and actually got ready to go home. The only person who seemed to recognize you at the store was the cashier, who gaped at you as much as one person could gape at another while they rang up their items. 
“That will be $267.48,” she said and you went to put your credit card but then she jumped. “Oh, wait! I can put in my discount…” 
“You don’t need to do that,” you laughed. “But you’re sweet to offer!” 
“But…” 
“How about you put that discount in for someone else who comes through your line today,” you smiled. 
“OK,” she smiled a little hesitantly. “Sorry, I’ve just never had someone famous come through my line before.”
“First time for everything,” you winked, putting your card in the machine. 
The cashier kept staring at you. 
“No one is going to believe I met you,” she said eventually. “I wish I had my phone so I could take a selfie…”
“Want an autograph?” You asked as the machine chimed. “Don’t need a phone for that.”
Instead of answering, she scrambled to get some blank receipt paper and a pen and Joel could tell you were trying not to laugh. You wrote on the paper quickly and handed it back before giving the cashier a smile. 
“You have a great day, Mina,” you said. 
She looked up from the paper with wide eyes. 
“How’d you know my name?” 
You smiled a little bigger and nodded to her name badge. 
“See you next time,” you said and she beamed. 
“Shit like that is stopping,” Joel said once the two of you were safely back in your house, behind the gate and fence that surrounded your property. “You got no damn reason to take risks like that…” 
“Yes I do,” you said, defiant, arms crossed. 
“What,” he demanded. “What’s your damn reason.” 
“I want to take care of my kid,” you stuck your chin out. “That means going to the grocery store sometimes. I’m sure that’s a new concept for you since I’m sure you subsist exclusively off fast food and have never thought about looking after anyone but yourself…” 
Joel tightened his jaw, trying to keep the sharp stab of loss from showing on his face. 
“You don’t need to go yourself,” he snapped. “Send someone.” 
You stepped closer to him, close enough that he could smell your skin, sweet and soft and he resented it. 
“I want to take care of her,” you said. “Me. She lost her mother, the person who used to do shit like make her dinner and pick out her snacks. I want to do that for her. Me, not someone I pay. So you just need to accept the fact that I’m going to go to the store because I’m not stopping.” 
“Fine,” he snapped, not about to admit that what you said tugged at him a bit. He remembered going to the store, looking for things that he thought Sarah might like. Things to put in her backpack so she had a snack for school when she got hungry between her afternoon classes or to have waiting for her when she got home. He remembered her favorite foods and how she lit up when he made burgers the way she liked or brought home her favorite cereal. He remembered how lucky he felt to be the person who got to know her in this way, to know her favorite things and be the one to get them for her. “But we’re doin’ it on my terms. This will be a whole lot easier on both of us as soon as you get with the program because I’m not letting you get us both killed because you’re stubborn. Got it?” 
He laid out the rules: You were to never leave the house without him or whoever was filling in for him on his days off. You needed to run your proposed schedule for the week by him so he could make necessary changes - varying your comings and goings as much as possible so you would be unpredictable. You needed to give him full access to your property and any existing security infrastructure so he could check for possible weaknesses. And you needed a code name, one that would be used for the whole team so when there was a handoff or a situation that required additional security, communication was short and easily understood. 
“That seems like overkill,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I’m the fucking president…” 
“When it’s a shit situation and we need to know who has you, we need it,” he said, harsher than he needed to. He was hard pressed to care, though. “We don’t need people stumbling over your name, not knowing if we’re using your first or last, and we really don’t need ‘em announcing your damn name where the wrong person could hear it and learn where you are.” 
“Fine,” you said. “What are the rules for picking a code name then.” 
“There aren’t any,” Joel said. “Yours is Siren.” 
“Siren,” you looked at him, incredulous. “Seriously? I don’t get any say in this at all?” 
“No,” he lied. “We pick for you and it’s Siren.” Your jaw twitched and Joel fought the urge to smirk. “What, don’t like it?” 
You squared yourself, defiant. 
“No, it’s perfect,” you said. “Derivative and dull, just what I’d expect from you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have real work to do.” 
And with that, you stalked off to some far away corner of your massive fucking house, leaving the woman who’d answered the door for him that morning to show him around. 
Joel tried to hide the almost spiteful sense of pride he got from getting under your skin. Because, fuck, if he had live with the reminder of that goddamn show then you had to, too. 
He’d Googled you after he’d met you the day before, his chest tight the whole time. He saw your more recent film history and learned that you were older than he’d realized - you must have been in your 20s when you were playing a teenager on TV. He also learned that you didn’t talk much about the show that Sarah had loved so much and had made you a household name. He wondered if you loathed it as much as he did, if you got the same stomach churning feeling inside yourself when something made you think of it, the same one he got whenever he looked at your disturbingly perfect face. 
Siren was the name of that goddamn show and the almost mocking nickname the male lead of the show had given your character, both of your characters fighting to make it as musicians in some bullshit story that was dramatized to hell and back. Joel recognized the guy, too - he was some fucking country star now, the kind who played bullshit instead of real country music - and he could feel, when he picked that name, that you’d hate it. 
Normally, the person he was protecting got to pick their code name. But you didn’t know that and he needed to feel some sense of power over you. You loomed too large over him. He needed you to feel the way he did, a little helpless, a little out of control. 
And you, stalking off in a huff over that damn name, made him feel better than it should. 
Over the next week and a half, he was keenly aware that none of this, really, was your fault. It wasn’t your fault that you were tied so closely with his dead daughter. It wasn’t your fault that being around you was like living with an open wound, something tender and aching on him that he couldn’t seem to heal because you were near. It wasn’t your fault that he had gone through so much of the last five years numb to everything and now was almost shockingly aware of the constant pain that had been lingering below the surface. 
But you were there and you were so much easier to blame than himself. He knew that, too. But it didn’t make him stop doing it, almost like he was watching himself make your life difficult without having any control over it. 
He had to stay in your home to be available at all hours so he started getting up early to take your keys before you had a chance to make it downstairs in the morning so he could drive when taking Ellie to school. He made a habit of finishing the coffee when Esmo was busy elsewhere in the house and he knew you’d be coming back for another cup. He never accepted any kindness you offered, taking disconcerting pleasure in saying no lattes when you insisted on stopping for a coffee and telling you he didn’t want whatever food you offered him, choosing instead to eat frozen dinners alone in another part of the house away from you and Ellie and Esmo, too. He found a strange satisfaction in these small harms, as though they were earned in some way. You, embedded so deeply in the trappings of wealth and fame, surely deserved some inconvenience in your life. After all the pain you’d inadvertently caused him, it seemed like it was owed to him. He tried to ignore the fact that he didn’t like being the kind of person who took pleasure in hurting someone else who didn’t deserve it, even if it was only small hurts. He tried not to think about what Sarah would say if she could see what he was doing now.  
Being away from you, though, made him more aware of it. The strange poison of wanting to make your life harder was further away when he was home and it was easier to see through it. You were probably dreading his return as much as he was dreading returning. He didn’t like who he became when he was near you and here he was, going back to the sphere of your influence to let it swallow him and turn him into a worse version of himself again. 
Joel should tell Tommy to take him off this job. He knew that but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was never supposed to be this way with him and his brother. Joel was the older one, Joel was the one who had practically raised Tommy when their parents were gone. Tommy was never supposed to be the one to take care of him. He was never supposed to be the one to give him a fucking job or make sure he didn’t lose his house in the months after the death of his daughter. He owed his brother so much now. How could he tell him “Sorry, this simple job is just too much for me, find someone else.” Tommy asked Joel to protect you so he would. 
Even if he hated it. 
Dawn was just starting on the horizon when Joel decided to indulge himself for a minute, lying down gently on his daughter’s bed. He was careful to not disturb the blankets, he didn’t adjust the pillow. He let himself sink into the softness of her lavender sheets and twin-sized mattress, to be in the exact place she was the last morning of her life. He stared at the side of her nightstand - stickers she’d placed there starting to peel - and let himself remember what it was like to have someone as good as her love him. 
He stayed there until her room as filled not with the artificial glow of streetlights but the unflinching light of day and got up as carefully as he lay down, going to the door and taking a last look at his daughter’s room on the morning of his fifth birthday since he’d stopped being a father, closing the door softly behind him. 
The drive to your house went by too quickly for his liking and he pulled into the driveway at the same time you did, Seth - the guard who’d filled in for him while he had a few days off - laughing about something with you as the two of you got out of the car. 
“Joel, good to see you man,” he said, still smiling as the two of you met Joel near your front door. “Ready to take over?” 
“Don’t think I got much choice,” Joel said wryly.
“Good morning, Joel,” you said, your tone oddly cool. He just gave you a nod as Seth put the call in to dispatch. 
“This is Cook,” Seth said. “Transferring custody of Siren to Big Miller.” 
“Big Miller?” Your eyebrows shot up, looking between Seth and Joel. Seth covered the receiver on the phone. 
“We got two Millers, he’s the older one,” he said, before going back to the call. “That’s correct…” 
“Big Miller,” you smirked at Joel. “Oh there’s so much I can do with that…” 
“Jesus,” Joel muttered as Seth handed him the phone. He confirmed he was taking over and ground his teeth as Seth hugged you goodbye like the pair of you were old fucking friends. 
“Don’t let this asshole push you around too much,” Seth winked at you. “Deep down, he’s a big softie.” 
“Oh, I’m sure he’s a big something,” you said. Seth laughed. Joel glared. “See you next time.” 
You watched Seth leave before heading into your house without another word. Joel followed you inside, trailing behind you as you otherwise ignored his presence, going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water before heading out back. 
“Hey,” he called after you and you stopped at the edge of your pool, slowly turning to face him, brows raised. “The hell you goin’? I need your itinerary for the week, you know the drill.” 
“No you don’t,” you said. “I decided I’d rather talk with someone who isn’t a huge fucking child so I gave it to Seth. Get it from him, Big Miller.” 
You kept going, toward the pool house and Joel ground his teeth, jogging to catch up with you. 
“Look,” he snapped but you rounded on him. 
“You lied to me,” you said. “I could have picked my own stupid name, you just had to get the one up on me for whatever reason and now I have to deal with being called that stupid, goddamn…” 
“If you and Seth are so cozy why didn’t you get him to change it for you, hm?” He cut you off. 
“Because I’d rather not look like a fucking idiot to your entire company, thanks though,” you snapped. “If you hate me so much, why didn’t you just ask someone else to do this job?” 
“If you hate havin’ me around, why didn’t you ask someone else to take over?” He countered. “Looked cozy enough with fuckin’ Seth!” 
You laughed. 
“Oh I’d never dream of giving you that satisfaction,” you said. “You want to torment me? Fine, two can play at that game. Just wait, you ain’t seen nothing yet, Big Miller.” 
You stalked off toward the pool house again before turning back to face him. 
“We’re leaving at noon,” you said. “If you want to know where to, better call fucking Seth and find out since you don’t have the people skills to get your charge to cooperate.” 
He grit his teeth as you went inside and he stared at the door you’d disappeared through for a moment, half expecting you to come back out and rip into him again. But you didn’t and he went inside, finding Esmo in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast. 
“She’s in a fuckin’ mood,” Joel muttered, going to help himself to a cup of coffee. 
“It was not an easy morning,” she said, holding a plate with a biscuit out to him. He took it with a frown. “Ellie’s a teenaged girl but even so…” 
“What happened?” He asked, settling in at the breakfast bar. 
“Not sure what set her off,” she sighed, putting the last pan in the drying rack before crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter, watching Joel. She reminded him of his mother, he realized, something grounding and sure about her. “But before they left, Ellie yelled that she wasn’t her mother. She didn’t say anything back but I could tell it hurt.” 
Joel flinched, looking out the window at the back of the kitchen, toward the pool and pool house. Toward you. He and Sarah had rarely clashed, especially that badly, but she was still a teenaged girl who grew up without a mother. She still lashed out about it and he was still the one who had to weather her rage. He knew her pain was misdirected but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 
“I know you two don’t…” She paused, like she was searching for the words. “Get along. But she is just as human as you or I, Mr. Miller. Go easy on her today.” 
“Told you, you can just call me Joel,” he said, dodging the rest of what she said. “I ain’t your boss, not gonna make you call me Mr. Miller…” 
Esmo barked a laugh as she poured herself a cup of coffee. 
“What?” He frowned. 
“Do you think she makes me call her ma’am?” She asked. “Mr. Miller, she is my employer. I am not going to call her by her first name, regardless of what she asks. Right now, the same goes for you.” 
He looked toward the pool house again. He’d assumed you’d told Esmo to call you ma’am, that you’d insisted on bullshit that put you on a different level than everyone else. Apparently, he was wrong. 
That didn’t mean he had to like you, though. 
Still, he almost felt bad for you as he got settled back into the room at your house that had become his. You’d been thrown into parenthood head first, none of the gradual build up that raising a child from birth provided. Instead, you were given a fully-fledged teenager with a chip on her shoulder. Anyone would struggle with that, even spoiled movie stars. 
His patience wore thin, though, as noon came and went and you still hadn’t come in from the damn pool house. He wondered if you’d told him noon just to piss him off, to make him feel like he had to spend his morning biding his time until it was wasted only to do nothing but sit at home until the time came to pick up Ellie from school. 
Eventually, he got tired of waiting for you and he stalked to the pool house, damn near ripping the door off its hinges as he went to find you, his eyes widening in surprise when he did. 
Joel wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find there but it certainly wasn’t this. You were there, back to the door, headphones covering your ears as you swung again and again at a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. 
“Hey!” He called but you either ignored him or couldn’t hear them, continuing your clumsy barrage on the bag. You clearly knew fuck all about fighting, your form rough and disjointed. Any punch you landed would be ineffectual at best, damaging to you at worst. It’d be comical if it wasn’t happening to someone whose safety he was responsible for. 
“Hey!” He tried again. Nothing. He clenched his jaw and stalked over to you, hand closing around the band of your headphones to pull them off your head and you spun, breathless and shocked, to face him. 
“What the fuck?” You reached to snatch the headphones back but he held them behind his back, out of reach. “Gimme those!” 
“You actually got some place to fuckin’ be this afternoon or not?” He snapped. “Because I’m tired of waiting for you to get your act together…” 
You stopped reaching for the headphones, still breathless, and checked your smart watch. 
“Shit,” you panted, drooping a little. “I lost track of time… Give me 15 minutes, then we’ll go.” 
He held the headphones out to you and you snatched them back roughly and Joel watched you stomp off toward the main house, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and he tried loathe the way your leggings hugged every curve and arch of your legs and ass as you did. 
You were ready to go in just 15 minutes, though, and still more beautiful than Joel was comfortable with you being. You smelled fresh, clean, some floral fucking body wash on your skin that was covered by more skin-tight athletic wear that revealed your shape to him, all the places that - were you any other woman - he’d want to sink his fingers into to pull you close. He clenched his jaw and he went to the driver’s seat but you stopped in front of him, staring him down. 
“Not sure where you think you’re going,” you said. 
“I’m driving,” he said. “You know the drill.” 
“Oh, so you called Seth?” You asked, brows raised. “Know where we’re headed?” 
He narrowed his eyes and you smirked. 
“Didn’t think so,” you said. “Step aside, Big Miller. Maybe you can drive home.” 
Joel considered, for a moment, fighting you on it. But, today of all days, he didn’t have the energy. He just stalked around to the passenger side of the car, trying his damndest to ignore the little smirk you got when he did. 
He stared determinedly out the window as you drove, the odd, raw feeling he got in his chest when he looked at you a little too sharp today. He focused on the cars around him, watching for any kind of pattern, anything unusual, trying to lose himself in the work of keeping you alive. At least, then, he was still good at something. At least, then, there was still some purpose for him being here. Even if he didn’t want to be. The scar that had been at his temple for nearly five years itched. 
He was so lost in it that he was almost surprised when you pulled up in front of not some insufferable coffee shop or unnecessary grocery store but an overpriced looking nursing home. You reached between Joel’s legs without a word and got your worn baseball cap from the glove box, tugging it down low over your face before grabbing your keys out of your bag and dropping them on Joel’s lap. 
“Get comfy,” you said. “I’ll be at least an hour, probably two.” 
“Hold on,” he said, but you ignored him, getting out of the car and heading toward the door. He caught you quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you around go face him. 
“What is your problem?” You snapped. “You’re always an asshole but Jesus you’re worse than usual today…” 
“You really think I’m just gonna let you go do some photo-op alone?” He asked. “Not about to just wait in the car…” 
“It’s not a photo-op,” you snapped. “It’s private, you don’t need to be involved…” 
“The hell I don’t,” he snapped back. “Your ass dies and it ain’t private anymore. I’m going. Deal with that shit now.” 
“Too bad for you,” you said, trying to pull your arm back from him but he held firm. Your clumsy little fight moves from the pool house earlier hadn’t done you any favors. 
“You can either listen to me or I’ll put you over my shoulder and make you listen,” he said. “I don’t much care which it is.” 
You stared him down, almost like you thought he wouldn’t do it. He was about to prove you wrong when you apparently decided instead, huffing indignantly. 
“Fine,” you snapped. “You can sit in the lobby.” 
“Fine,” he snapped back before following you inside. 
A woman rushed to meet you at the door, speaking to you in hushed tones that even Joel, standing so close to you, had a hard time making out. She directed Joel to a comfortable looking room that reminded him of his grandmother’s living room as a child, the one that no one was allowed in to “keep the furniture nice.” There were no such concerns here, the arm chairs and couches looking comfortable and inviting if overly ornate, neat stacks of magazines on the antique coffee table in the middle of them. He ground his teeth, watching as the woman led you away.
You’d be out of sight. That made him uncomfortable. And he couldn’t trust you to actually call for help if you needed it. That made him more uncomfortable. 
But… this wasn’t an especially public place. There was security keeping people out and the residents in. Chances were, there wasn’t anything that could really get to you in here. And if this wasn’t some bullshit media thing, it was probably fine to leave you to your own devices. At least for a little while. 
So he settled on the couch, keeping an eye on the front doors while he absently picked up a magazine, some kind of trashy tabloid that Sarah used to flip through at the grocery store. It used to make him roll his eyes and tell her that she was rotting her brain and now he’d give anything to go back in time and buy out every newsstand he passed if it meant he got another 20 minutes waiting in line for to pay for groceries with her. 
He wasn’t paying close enough attention to the magazine he picked up, though, and then bam, there you were yet again. Your picture was blurry and you were wearing sunglasses that were a little too big for your face and there was an iced coffee cup dangling from your hand. 
Bombshell breakup the headline under your picture said. Hollywood’s brightest star back on the market!
Joel looked at the date, from almost a year ago now, and flipped to the pages about you. There were pictures of you walking with a woman who looked something like an older, red-headed version of Ellie and he realized he was looking at her mother. Your arms were crossed tightly over your stomach and your face was drawn, Ellie’s mother’s face concerned. It was strangely intimate, seeing you like this. It wasn’t like other paparazzi pictures of you he’d seen, the ones that looked somewhat staged or like you’d at least known you were being photographed. This seemed like an intrusion, something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing. 
He looked at the pictures of you and Ellie’s mother for a while. He wasn’t sure how long, not really able to look away, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. 
“Yeah,” he said gruffly when he answered. 
“Hello Mr. Miller,” Esmo said, her tone still uncomfortably formal. “I apologize for just reaching out like this but I know she’s visiting her mother right now so her phone is off and we just got a call from the school…” 
“Wait, what?” Joel cut her off. Your mother? That couldn’t be right.
“Yes,” she said, sounding impatient. “The school, apparently Ellie was in a fight and she needs to be picked up, can you please tell her and take care of things?” 
“She OK?” Joel asked, trying not to overthink the sharp little stab of fear in his chest at the thought of Ellie in a fight. He tried not to think about getting his hands on whatever little teenaged prick decided to fight her, either. 
“She’s fine,” Esmo said. “At least, that’s what the school said. She just needs to be picked up. Can you go get her?” 
“Yeah,” he said after a second. “Course, I got it.” 
“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “I appreciate it.” 
Joel’s jaw tightened as he dropped that old magazine on the coffee table before stalking off in the direction he’d watched you go before. 
It didn’t take him long to find you, tucked away in a small and private visitation room, deck of cards sitting on the table between you and a woman who looked a lot like you, some of the cards fanned out in your hand.
“Do you have any fives?” The woman - your mother - asked. 
“You asked me that before,” you said, an oddly tense but gentle edge to your voice. “Why don’t you ask about another one?” 
“Oh,” she frowned at her hand. “How about… tens?” 
“Damn,” you said, handing her a card. She smiled. 
“You shouldn’t curse, you know,” she said. “It makes you sound dumb.” 
“I’ve heard that,” you said, arranging the cards in your hand. “Any eights?” 
She paused for a moment, examining her cards. 
“What was that again?” She said after a moment. 
“Eights,” you repeated. 
“Go fish,” she said and you got a card from the top of the pile. “You know, you remind me of my daughter…” 
“Do I?” You said, your tone oddly even. 
“She’s an actress,” she nodded. “She’s only a teenager though, a lot younger than you. She’s pretty like you, though.” 
“An actress, hm?” You said. “Does she like it?” 
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “But she’s good at it. Not sure she can handle the hard parts, though.” 
“You’re probably right,” you said. “She can’t.”
“Hello,” your mother said, looking up at Joel and lowering her cards. “Are you here to play, too?” 
You noticed him then, your back going stiff, shifting uncomfortably in your chair when you did. 
“Fraid not,” Joel said. “Just need to talk to… my friend here.” 
You looked back at him then, frowning but he just jerked his head toward the door. You, at least, didn’t question it, just setting the cards face down on the table and joining him. 
“Can I help you?” You asked, brows raised expectantly. 
“Now, I already asked and she’s fine,” he said, which made your eyes go wide but he held up a hand. “Ellie got in a fight at school, we gotta go pick her up…” 
“Shit,” you swore, fishing your phone from some hidden pocket in your leggings at the small of your back and turning it on. It took a moment but you groaned. “Fuck, I have six missed calls…” 
You stashed the phone again and went back to the table, your mother frowning at you as you gathered up the cards. 
“I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I have to go,” you said. “They’ll have someone come bring you back in a minute.” 
“It’s very rude to just take off on someone, you know,” she said sternly. 
“Been told that, too,” you said. “You have a good day.” 
She grunted, crossing her arms and turning away from you. You didn’t take the bait, just going for the door and quickly leading the way back to the car. But, for a change, you went for the passenger side. 
“What?” You said. “You do know the way to the school, don’t you?” 
“I know it,” he muttered, getting behind the wheel. 
“Good,” you said, buckling in. “Then drive.” 
You checked your phone, shaking your head, before just staring out the window. 
“So,” Joel said eventually. “That’s your mom.” 
“In the most technical sense,” you said, not looking at him. He nodded slowly anyway. “I don’t really think of her that way.” 
“Why’s she in there?” Joel asked. 
“Why do you care?” You said, incredulous, finally looking at him. He glanced at you and then shrugged and you sighed, the sound heavy. “Early onset Alzheimers. She’s 67 now, it started about five years back. I try to see her once a month or so.” 
“Don’t you got the money to get her a nurse or some shit so she could stay with you?” He frowned. 
“It’s really not any of your fucking business, is it?” you snapped before sighing, pinching the bridge of your nose and wincing as Joel pulled into the parking lot of the school. “Please don’t mention of this to Ellie. She doesn’t know anything about my mother and I’d like it to stay that way.”
You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, all but leaping out of the car the second he put it into park and going quickly for the front door of the school. Joel had to run to catch up with you, barely catching you as the two of you were buzzed into the building where the headmistress met you. 
She greeted you the same way Esmo did and Joel could tell, now that he knew you didn’t like it, that it put you on edge. It made him stiffen at your back, narrowing his eyes at the prim and proper woman in front of him, assessing her differently now than the last time you’d met. She was a threat now, she’d upset you, she’d opposed Ellie and he was oddly comforted that he knew he could easily overpower her if he needed to. 
He frowned ever so slightly. 
Why would he need to? She was a fucking teacher. And why should he care so much that she pissed you off? 
“Ms. Stark,” you said, giving her a firm nod. “Where’s Ellie?” 
“In my office,” she said. “Please, follow me.” 
She led the way, setting a brisk pace, her back ramrod straight, but you kept your head high as you kept pace alongside her. 
“What happened?” You asked. “This is very out of character for Ellie.” 
“I’m not so sure it is,” the headmistress said and Joel could have sworn he saw the hint of a self-righteous smile on her lips and he clenched his jaw. “She’s… aggressive…” 
“She’s strong,” you said sharply. “But she wouldn’t pick a fight without a reason.” 
“Well, she has yet to tell us a reason,” she said, smug. “Maybe you can find one. This behavior may have been accepted at other institutions but we hold our students to a higher standard here…” 
“I’ll talk to her,” you said. “I’m sure we can figure this out.” 
Joel was half expecting you to make him wait outside the office like you had at the nursing home but you didn’t and he followed you, the principal’s office looking disturbingly more like a luxury hotel than a school. 
Ellie was sitting on one end of a small row of chairs in the office waiting room, her arms crossed and her jaw set tight. A boy - about her age and far larger than her - sat at the other end, an ice pack clutched to his lower lip and blood dripping from his nose. 
“Ellie,” you said, all but running for her, kneeling in front of her and brushing her hair back from her face. “Are you OK?” 
She jerked away from you. 
“Fine,” she muttered. “I just want to go home.” 
“OK,” you nodded slowly. “Can you tell me what happened?” 
She just looked to the side, tightening her arms around herself. You stood and sighed, still watching her but Joel looked to the boy sitting at the other end of the row. He was determinedly staring straight ahead but his eyes kept darting over to you, a deep blush rising in his cheeks. Joel’s eyes narrowed. 
“We can’t just permit students to attack other students,” the headmistress said. “Especially not unprovoked…” 
“It wasn’t unprovoked!” Ellie snapped, her head whipping around to look at the boy. “He knows what he did.” 
“Miss Williams,” the headmistress said sharply. “You nearly broke a fellow student’s nose.” 
“Well, he’s a pussy!” Ellie yelled. “Not my fault he got his ass handed to him by a girl!” 
“Ellie!” You scolded. 
“What! It’s true,” she said, calming. “Lucky I didn’t do more…”
The headmistress looked at you, a small, self-satisfied smile on her face. 
“Because this is her first offense, she’s suspended for a week,” she said. “But if it happens again, we will have to expel her.” 
“We’ll take care of it,” you said before turning your attention back to Ellie. “C’mon, troublemaker, let’s go.” 
She shoved herself out of the chair and grabbed her backpack sharply from the floor. The boy at the other end of the chairs watched her and she lunged in his direction before pulling back, making him jump. 
“Yeah, better be fuckin’ scared,” she snapped. 
“Alright,” you said sharply, putting your hands on her shoulders and steering her out of the room. “That’s enough, let’s go.” 
Joel gave the kid a final look, one that was apparently enough to make him stare straight ahead again, shrinking in his seat as he did. Satisfied, Joel followed you and Ellie to the car, the girl throwing her backpack in with a little too much force. 
Mercifully, you just went for the passenger seat, saving Joel the fight about driving. You immediately turned to face the disgruntled teenager behind you. 
“Want to tell me what the fuck that was?” You asked. 
“That was a fight,” Ellie said, the sass in her voice thick. “One I won, by the way.” 
“Yeah, no shit,” you said. “Kid, you can’t just do stuff like that for no reason! What were you thinking?” 
“It wasn’t no reason!” She replied. 
“OK then what was the reason?” You said. “I’m dying for you to enlighten me because there had better be some kind of reason why you’d go after a classmate like that!”
“Why do I need to tell you the fucking reason?” She demanded. “You don’t need to know the reason, you just need to trust me when I say I had one!” 
“I do trust you!” You said. “But that school doesn’t! They don’t know you yet! They don’t know how smart and kind and funny you are, all they know is that you refused to follow the dress code on day one and now that you beat people up when you don’t get your way!” 
“I didn’t hit him because I didn’t get my way!” She yelled. “I did it because…” 
Her voice trailed off, seeming to realize what she was about to say just as she said it. You gave her a minute to say it, anyway, but she didn’t. 
“Tell me a reason, Ellie,” you said gently. “Because there has to be a reason. God, I sure hope there is because I’d rather not have to donate a library to some stuffy school every time you decide to throw a tantrum…” 
“Oh, yeah, because you’ll just use your fucking money to fix everything,” Ellie snapped. “But you didn’t use it to save my mom! No, you just let her die.” 
Joel caught a glimpse of your face at that, looking less like you’d been yelled at by a teenager and more like someone had slapped you. 
“I tried, honey,” you said gently. “I tried so hard to save your mom, I helped get her the best doctors, I helped get her into the best facilities but sometimes it’s just beyond what we can do as people.” 
“Whatever,” Ellie snapped as Joel pulled into the driveway. She jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind her and you followed after her. 
“Is that what this is about?” You asked. “Is it because you miss your mom? Because I get that, I miss her too, so much that sometimes I want to burn something down, but…” 
“But she was your friend!” She rounded on you. “And she was my fucking mom, stop acting like you know how I feel because you don’t know how I fucking feel!” 
“Ellie,” you said gently. “I know it’s hard, and…” 
“No, you don’t know!” She snapped. “Stop it! Just leave me alone!” 
She started stomping off to her room but you stayed close behind. 
“We can talk about…” 
“I don’t want to talk to you!” She yelled. “I don’t want to look at you or talk to you or do anything with you! I wish it was you who died instead of her!” 
You froze where you stood and Ellie took advantage of your stillness to stomp off back to her bedroom, the door slamming in her corner of the house.
“Yeah, me too,” you said, so quietly that Joel doubted that you knew he could hear you. 
He was quiet for a moment, staring where Ellie had gone, hoping she’d come back for both your sakes. But she didn’t. 
“Teenagers are hard,” Joel said eventually. “Sure she didn’t mean that…” 
“Oh please, I know you’re just loving this,” you said harshly. “I don’t need your fake pity, Joel. I have interviews, stay out of my office.” 
You left without another word, the click of your door much quieter than Ellie’s had been. 
“That went well,” Esmo sighed, catching Joel off guard. 
“Sure it’ll pass,” Joel said gruffly. He wasn’t sure why his chest got tight as he looked toward your office. He didn’t care about you beyond needing to keep you alive and he only needed do that because of everything he owed his brother. Besides, you were just some spoiled, pampered celebrity. Surely you could use something pushing back on you for a change. 
“Dinner tonight is roast chicken,” Esmo said, heading toward the kitchen. 
Joel frowned. 
“Why are…” 
“I know why you don’t usually eat with us, Mr. Miller,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowed. “She won’t be joining us, her calendar is full until after 10. Don’t pretend that you enjoy those freezer burnt blocks of garbage you call food more than a home cooked meal, I don’t like liars.” 
She disappeared to the kitchen, the rattle of pots and pans following not long after and Joel sighed, settling in on the couch to kill time instead of disappearing to his room on the other side of the house. 
But, to his surprise, Ellie emerged just an hour later, in jeans a t-shirt instead of her uniform now, creeping into the living room like she was expecting someone to jump out at her. 
“She ain’t here,” Joel said, making her jump. “Sorry, kiddo, wasn’t tryin’ to scare you.” 
“It’s fine,” she sighed, coming in and flopping on the loveseat. “Where is she?” 
“Doin’ interviews in her office, I guess,” Joel said. She nodded slowly, staring determinedly at the coffee table. 
The two of them sat quietly for a moment before this strange tug at the center of him to take care of her - something that was so foreign now but still so familiar - made him clear his throat and break the silence. 
“Want… want to talk about anything?” He asked. 
“Like?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at him. 
“Like why you decided to beat up some boy at school,” he shrugged. “Or why you decided to say something that mean to one of the only people who really cares about you. Because that didn’t seem much like you.” 
She scoffed. 
“What do you know?” 
He shrugged. 
“Enough to know that you act tough but that you ain’t an asshole.” 
“Ain’t isn’t a word,” she said. 
Joel just shrugged again, going back to his phone. 
Eventually, Ellie sighed heavily. 
“That fucking boy,” she spat the word as though it were curse word, not the f-bomb she’d dropped a second earlier. “Figured out who she was. Saw her dropping me off at school earlier this week and started talking about shit like ‘your mom is so hot, why aren’t you’ and when that didn’t really bother me started saying shit like ‘I’ve seen your mom’s tits’ and called her a whore and I just… he fucking deserved it, OK? And I’m not about to apologize to that fucker just because the fucking school….” 
“Alright,” Joel said gently, cutting her off. “I agree. He’s a jackass. You probably did the right thing.” 
She looked surprised for a moment but it passed quickly. 
“That’s why I couldn’t tell her what happened,” Ellie said. “Because do you know how fucking creepy it is, knowing that every guy in your stupid school has probably jerked it to your aunt? It’s fucking gross. I don’t want to talk about that shit with her.” 
Joel nodded slowly. 
“So, what, you decided to take it out on your aunt when you got home?” He asked. 
“No,” she said, defensive. “I just… I know she loves my mom… Loved my mom… So why didn’t she… I don’t know, just… why didn’t she fix it? She has all this fucking money and knows all these fucking people, why didn’t she fix it? She can do everything else, why couldn’t she do that one thing?” 
“You really think she didn’t try?” Joel asked gently. “Look, I don’t really know her but I can tell she loves you something fierce and I’m guessin’ that’s because she loved your mama something fierce, too. Just… sometimes, there’s shit that money can’t fix.” Without meaning to, he remembered holding his daughter as she bled out in his arms. He remembered begging whatever god might be listening to do anything to fix it. That he’d give anything, do anything, to fix it. It hadn’t made a damn difference. “Trust me. Sometimes power and money just don’t mean shit.” 
She shrugged and picked at some unseen thing on the couch. 
“Not my business,” Joel shrugged. “Just seems like you’re making her miserable because someone else is bein’ an asshole.” 
“Think she’s mad at me?” Ellie asked quietly, looking over at him, her dark eyes soft. 
“If she is, she’s not actually mad,” he said. “Just hurt. You said some shitty stuff, kid.” 
“Yeah, I know,” she sighed, looking toward the hall that led to your office. “I fucked up.” 
Joel shrugged again. 
“Everyone does.” 
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. 
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” She asked. “Don’t you usually hide in your room when you’re not following us around?” 
He didn’t want to admit to hiding from the visions of his daughter that so often plagued him on his birthday, so he just shrugged instead. 
“Well, I got this new video game while you were off,” she said. “Want to kill some zombies and shit with me?” 
“Don’t you got homework or something?” He asked, brows raised. 
“I’m suspended, remember?” She said. 
“You really think either of them are gonna let that stand?” Joel asked. “Between your aunt and Esmo, you’re gonna be back in that school before you know it.” 
She snorted. 
“Probably right,” she said. “Still. Wanna play?” 
He examined her for a moment, the hopeful look in her eyes as she watched him in return. 
It had been so long since anyone had wanted something like this with him, some kind of connection, some kind of approval, some kind of emotional investment. It made his chest get tight and his first instinct was to tell her no, to stalk off to his bedroom and close the door and keep himself far away from anything like that… but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when she so clearly needed it. 
“Yeah, alright,” he said. “Gotta get all that shit set up, though, don’t exactly play a bunch of video games…” 
She scoffed. 
“I’m sure you don’t, old man.” 
Ellie gave him a controller and, as the two of them ran through some virtual desert to collect supplies and shoot zombies, he had the fleeting thought that making her smile made this the best birthday he’d had in more than five years. 
***
“Thank you for having me!” You smiled brightly, hoping it still reached your eyes after faking your way through this for hours. Fuck, your Oscar should be for this shit, not your film roles. “It’s been so fun. Hope to see you at the movies!” 
“See you there!” The spunky entertainment reporter on the other end of the connection said before the stream cut off. You let the smile slip the moment you knew no one but Quinn was left on the screen, grabbing your water bottle from just out of sight and chugging half of it. 
“You did great,” she said, looking at notes on her end. “Hit all the big talking points, great lead in for the main junket kicking off soon.” 
“Can’t wait,” you said wryly. Quinn gave you a look and you just shrugged. “What? I don’t get paid to act like I enjoy this shit with you, just with all the reporters.” 
“Well, it looks like you won’t be flying solo on at least the LA portion of this junket,” she said and you frowned. Quinn answered the question before you had a chance to ask it. “Looks like Chris Reese will be with you…” 
You groaned. 
“Seriously?” You asked. “I have to be in LA and I have to deal with that jackass?” 
“Have worse chemistry with him and then you won’t have to do shit like press with him,” she said. You glared at her. “What? I get paid to spin shit for the reporters, not for you.” 
“Ha ha,” you said and she smirked. 
“It’s not so bad,” she said. “Just two days of interviews. And they want you to do a few of TikTok trends for promos…” you groaned again. “Going to pretend like I didn’t hear that and just say that you’re looking forward to reconnecting with your costar.” 
“Oh yeah, can’t wait,” you rolled your eyes. 
“Also,” Quinn said, steadfastly ignoring you. “I just emailed you part of the script for Savage Starlight, they want you to do some chemistry reads while you’re out that way. They think they have a casting choice for the young version of yourself and you’ll have one dream sequence scene with her that’s going to be pretty important to the story, I guess… fuck if I know. They want to make sure the two of you fit well. They’re also looking at a few guys for your love interest… couple unknowns, Ryan Smythe and Chris Pine are all in the mix.” 
You nodded slowly. 
“Ryan’s not bad,” you said. “I haven’t worked with him but we’ve met a few times and I like his work. Surprised he’s drawn to a project like this…” 
“I’m surprised you’re drawn to a project like this,” Quinn said. 
You shot her a glare. 
“…But I wouldn’t mind working with him,” you continued like she hadn’t spoken at all. “Pine is a shock, I think he’d have gotten enough of playing second fiddle to a woman superhero after Wonder Woman.” 
Quinn shrugged. 
“Maybe he’s just in his big time feminist era, not arguing with that. Plus, he’s good.” 
“Oh, he’s great,” you said. “The best of the Chrises. Unlike Reese…” 
“Oh, suck it up,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s not that bad.” 
“He’s obnoxious,” you said. “You don’t have to deal with him like I do.” 
“No, but I have to deal with his manager,” she replied. “I’ll trade you. At least Reese is nice to look at.” 
“Yeah, he knows it, too,” you said. 
“When you’re out here, we’ll have to have to have lunch,” she said “You’re my favorite client, I miss you.” 
“You say that to all your clients.” 
“Yes, but I lie when I say it to the rest them,” she smiled a little. “OK I’m going to let you go get some sleep. I’ll send you an itinerary for your trip out here and I’ll share it with the security outfit, too. Speaking of which, tell that bodyguard of yours happy birthday.” 
You frowned. 
“It’s his birthday?” You asked. “Wait, how’d you know that?” 
“Come on,” she scoffed. “You know I ran a full investigation on the man I knew would be protecting you. I’m not stupid. Anyway, tell him happy birthday for me and take care of yourself, OK?” 
“Will do. And you, too,” you said, hanging up and letting your forehead droop to your desk with a groan. 
You were exhausted. Even before the Ellie shit you’d been exhausted and all you’d wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep all day. 
Of course, you didn’t get to do that. Instead, you listened to the most important person in your life tell you that she wished you were dead before you had to go give the same goddamn interview to a dozen different broadcast outlets. 
You’d closed yourself in your office and let yourself cry for a while before you forced yourself to stop long enough to do your hair and makeup and make sure you looked at least somewhat presentable before the first interview. And then you faked a smile for hours, talking about the last movie you made before your best friend died, trying not to think about leaving set every day to go see Anna in hospice, always afraid that it would be the last time you’d get to see her. 
Esmo had sent you texts while you were stuck in interview hell, telling you when Ellie had eaten, done her homework and gone to bed. She’d also reached out to the school to discuss bringing her back sooner and said she would tell you what she’d gotten out of them the next day. 
You weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve her but, in that moment, you felt like you owed her your life. Because someone needed to look out for Ellie, even when she wouldn’t let you do it yourself. 
At least, now that it was late, the main part of the house should be empty. Esmo had gone home, Ellie was asleep, Joel liked to avoid every part of the house where he might run into people unless he absolutely had to be there. The last thing you felt like doing was getting into it with your niece or faking a smile for Esmo or putting up with Joel’s shit. 
Your bodyguard exhausted you. He’d seemed to make it his own, personal mission to get under your skin. Sure, maybe you hadn’t given him the warmest welcome - you still weren’t thrilled about having to have a bodyguard in the first place - but that hardly seemed to warrant the degree to which he’d been poking and prodding at you in the two weeks he’d been working for you. 
Joel had figured out quickly that he had a lot of power over you, somehow keenly aware that you weren’t about to complain to his boss about him or try to get him kicked off the job. What you didn’t get was why he seemed to be so fucking miserable to be assigned to you to begin with. 
It’s not like he’d never been a bodyguard before, it’s not like this was new fucking territory for him. He just seemed to hate you personally. 
You’d tried to change that for the first week or so. Yes, you’d gotten off on the wrong foot and you could take the blame for that. You were willing to give him some time to get it out of his system. You tried to reach out, to see what food he liked so you could update the dinner menus to his liking or to buy him coffee when you insisted on stopping to get one - much to his chagrin. You tried to even go along with some of his demands so his job was a little easier - things that wouldn’t have you losing as much of your autonomy, at least - but he didn’t seem to appreciate any of it. And then Seth, the other guard, was with you and you realized just how much Joel must absolutely loathe you. 
Seth was much easier going. He let you drive without argument. He had dinner with you, Ellie and Esmo every night. He smiled and laughed and mentioned that he was surprised you picked Siren of the name options for you. You’d managed to hide your surprise at that, not wanting to give away just how much his coworker seemed to enjoy humiliating you. 
Of course Joel had to come back on what had quickly devolved into the worst day you’d had since Anna died. Of course he’d seen just what Ellie said, of course he had some new way to make you feel like shit. Happy fucking birthday to him. 
The pinch of tears had returned to the back of your throat but you swallowed them. You needed to eat something. You needed to go take off all this fucking makeup. You needed to actually sleep in your own damn bed because sleeping anywhere else would be strange and you couldn’t give Joel more ammunition to use against you or give Ellie any reason to feel worse.
So you forced yourself to go to the kitchen to get the plate Esmo had made for you out of the fridge, your feet heavy, the house dark. The light was on in the pool, the reflection from the water casting lines over the ceiling of your living room and you considered, for a moment, just how easy it’d be to go outside, jump into the water and let it swallow you. But you couldn’t do that. Ellie needed you, whether she liked it or not, and there was a whole staff of people who relied on you for their livelihood. Giving up wasn’t an option. Not for you. So you kept going, like you always did.
The kitchen was dark, too, but the smell of coffee was fresh and strong as you opened the fridge, the light oddly bright compared to the darkness of your house. You found the plate Esmo had left you, a chicken thigh and roasted broccoli piled high. You pulled the plastic wrap back, bumping the fridge closed with your hip as you did. 
“Should pay more attention.” 
You yelped, jumping and looking around before you realized that, at the end of your breakfast bar, was the hulking figure of your bodyguard, sitting in the dark. 
“Jesus Christ,” you said, heart pounding. You set the plate on the counter and stalked to turn on the lights before rounding on him. “What the fuck are you doing, sitting here in the dark? Just lurking to try to fuck with me in some new way or what?” 
“No,” he said and there was something so honest in his voice that you couldn’t help but believe him. “Didn’t feel like sleepin’, so…” 
He shrugged and you just nodded, going to put your dinner in the microwave. 
“Well, you can have the kitchen to yourself again in a minute,” you said, leaning against the counter and facing Joel, your arms crossed over your stomach. 
The frustrating thing was, if he wasn’t such an asshole, Joel would be an attractive man. He was handsome, unquestionably so, in a way that would be sculpted out of marble in a bygone time. He was handsome and tall and broad and there was something about his presence - no matter how antagonistic he seemed to get - that made you feel safe. It was something that you thought went past the fact that he was paid to protect you, something in you that said that, while he was here with you alone, while he could easily overpower you, you didn’t need to be afraid of him. He was safe. 
Of course, maybe it was better if he was a dick. If he was kinder, you’d probably end up half in love with him, a recipe for disaster since he was your bodyguard. 
“S’your house,” Joel shrugged. “I can go if you want space.” 
“I don’t mind,” you said. 
He just nodded, twisting his coffee mug in his hands. 
“You alright?” He asked after a moment of quiet with nothing but the hum of the microwave between you. You raised your brows at him. “Just… you know… whole Ellie thing.” 
You watched him for a moment, head cocked. Was he asking because he actually cared? Was he asking to try to find some new way to make you miserable? You weren’t sure. 
“She’s a good kid,” he said when you’d been quiet a bit too long. “She didn’t… I know she didn’t mean what she said, she’s just bein’ a teenager, and…” 
“How do you know?” 
He frowned. 
“Know what?” 
“That she didn’t mean it,” you said. “How do you know?” 
The microwave beeped and you got out your food. Joel, much to your surprise, pulled out the chair next to his at the breakfast bar before gripping his mug again, his fingers tight and strained against the ceramic. You took the seat, grabbing a fork and knife from the silverware drawer on the way. 
“I talked to her a bit,” he said once you settled in next to him. He wasn’t looking at you, staring straight ahead instead. “She was… she was upset about other shit and took it out on you. Don’t make it right but… at least explains it.” 
“What was she upset about?” You asked, cutting into the chicken and taking a bite. Even reheated it was delicious. God bless Esmo. “Was it the fight at school? Because she was in a mood this morning, too, and…” 
“Yeah, think that fight’s been simmerin’ for a few days,” Joel said, taking a sip of coffee before glancing your way quickly.
“What was it?” You frowned. “Did she tell you? If it was a good reason, then…” 
“She told me,” he cut you off, actually looking at you now. “Look… I’ll tell you, but I think it’s best if you keep it to yourself. I get why she’s pissed.” 
You frowned. 
“OK…” 
“That fuckin’ kid she beat up,” he said, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Well… guess he recognized you…” 
“Shit,” you sighed, dropping your fork to your plate to press the palm of your hand to your eye. Of course you were the root of this problem, too. 
“Sounds like he thought you’re her mom,” he said. “Started askin’ her why she’s not as good looking as you and, when that didn’t get enough of a rise out of ‘er, started saying… other shit.” 
You gave him a second to continue on his own but he didn’t. 
“Other shit like what?” You asked. He flinched and looked down at his coffee cup. “Other shit like what, Joel.” 
He sighed. 
“Other shit like he’d seen your… chest,” he said, his cheeks getting red. “And he called you… well, somethin’ you don’t call a lady.” 
“Jesus,” you slumped down in your seat. “Well, at least that explains why she was begging me to not be the one to drive her to school in the mornings anymore…” 
“Sorry,” Joel said, his voice rough. 
“I don’t blame her for taking the bait,” you sighed. “Lord knows I would have in her shoes… God, it must be embarrassing for her…” 
“Like I said, she’s a good kid,” he said. “Don’t take one blow up too personally. Teenagers are… well, they’re teenagers.” 
You watched him for a moment. 
“Why do you know this stuff?” 
His jaw tightened for a moment. 
“Just do,” he said. 
Something told you that wasn’t all there was to it but you didn’t pry. Instead, you ate your dinner in silence next to him, trying to think of ways to talk to the school to get Ellie back in without bringing up what she’d told Joel. You liked that she had an adult she apparently felt like she could talk to. She needed that, desperately, in her life. You’d prefer it was you - it had been you, once upon a time, back when you weren’t responsible for her - but you’d take what you could get. 
“Can I ask what that punching bag out back did to piss you off?” He asked eventually. 
You laughed a little. 
“Nothing much,” you replied. “Wait… you sighed an NDA for this job, right?” 
“Yeah,” he frowned, looking at you again. “Why?” 
“Because this isn’t public yet,” you said. “But… Well, I’m trying to prep for a role.” 
“A role,” he said. “What role?” 
“You ever heard of the comic series Savage Starlight?” You asked. He nodded. “Well… I’m Starlight. Or, I will be. They’re going to officially announce it in a few months, once the rest of the main cast is settled. They’re starting me with a trainer to learn fight choreography in six weeks but I’ve never had a role with fight scenes like this one, I’m trying to make it so I’m not starting from scratch so I don’t look like a total idiot.” 
“That don’t…” Joel paused. “Doesn’t seem like your kind of movie.” 
“It’s not,” you said. “But Ellie loves the comics. They’re her favorite thing and… well, if I’m her favorite super hero, I can’t be all bad, right? So I just… I want to get it right.” 
“Well, you’re doin’ it wrong,” Joel said. You narrowed your eyes, about to argue with him on it, but he cut you off. “Not trying to be mean. Your form was just… I can tell you haven’t really thrown a punch before. Nothin’ wrong with that. Or, well, there isn’t until you need to start fighting. You just need to be careful is all, otherwise you’re just gonna hurt yourself.” 
You laughed a little. 
“Of course,” you said wryly. “It only makes sense that I’m shit at that, too.” 
“Not shit,” he said. You raised your eyebrows. “What? You’re not. Just not trained. I… I can help. If you wanted.” 
“Really,” you asked, incredulous. “You’d help me train to fight.” 
“Sure,” he shrugged. “Not like I don’t got the time. Besides, figure my job just gets harder if you’re in a damn cast because you busted your wrist throwin’ a bad punch.” 
“Fair enough,” you said. “Thank you.” 
“Sure,” he said, the two of you falling silent again. You picked at the chicken, not much of an appetite. 
“Do you think,” you said, trailing off for a moment before looking at him again. “Do you think you could take Ellie to school when she starts back? I’m going to talk to the school again tomorrow, try to get her back in next week, but I don’t want to cause her more problems and…” 
“Sure,” he said. “I… I don’t mind. She’s a good kid.” 
“She is,” you agreed. 
You finished what you could of your dinner and slid off the seat before cleaning up your dish, Joel frowning and watching as you did. 
“What?” You asked. “You’re looking at me like I’m… I dunno, an alien or something.” 
“Don’t you have people who do shit like clean up after you?” He asked. “Ain’t that part of Esmo’s job?” 
“I mean, yeah,” you shrugged. “But I’m not about to leave my dirty dishes sitting out overnight for her to deal with when she gets here in the morning. I’m not an asshole.” 
He seemed to process that as you loaded the dishwasher and chugged a final glass of water before putting the glass in the dishwasher, too. 
“Well, I’m going to bed,” you said. “Been a hell of a day. Want me to turn the light off so you can sit in the dark with your coffee again?” 
Joel just shrugged. 
“Don’t really matter,” he said. “Good night.” 
“Night,” you said, turning to go before you remembered what Quinn had told you. “Hey, actually, why didn’t you mention that today was your birthday?” 
He flinched, the movement so fleeting you almost thought you imagined it, and you had the strangest desire to comfort him somehow. You just didn’t know why. 
“Don’t like my birthday,” he said after a moment. “Not a lot of reasons to celebrate so I just don’t. Besides, don’t really like being the center of attention.” 
You laughed a little at that. 
“Yeah, I know the feeling. But… well, happy birthday, anyway. Thanks for looking after Ellie.” 
He nodded slowly. 
“Thanks,” he said. “It… it was nice.” 
You wanted to say something else but you couldn’t think of what so instead, you turned out the light and left him there, drinking coffee from your favorite mug alone in the dark. 
A/N: So sorry for the eternity between chapters. I've just not been able to keep up with things lately. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.
I'm really enjoying their dynamic! Some active antagonism based in misunderstanding of motives, some mutual attraction, a lot of similar life experiences that they don't fully grasp yet. I just really love these two and I'm so excited to share where they're headed! Thanks for being here.
Love you!
Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel
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xxblairexxss · 1 year
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Who are you p.3
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Fluff
Word count : 2.2k
Part 1 Part 2
Is the country’s gem boy turning into your knight in shining armour? Was it a coincidence or on purpose?
I wasn’t really sure about this one but at least it’s something for the Charles’s girls after what happened last night. Anyway, CarLando healed my broken heart! 🥹🥰
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"What do you want?!" 
"I accidentally called you." Charles laughed, propping his chin on hand with the good angle of you rushing to get your makeup. "Wait, don’t end the call. I would like to see."
"There’s nothing interesting to see here." The pointy finger that was a second away from the end call button was drawn back as the phone was propped against your dressing mirror while you went back to your makeup to not argue any longer because you only had 40 minutes left to get ready.
"I would like to see if you would make it on time to work." He gave a smile when you glared while your hands went to clip your hair back. "You look pretty, though."
"I haven’t done my makeup yet." Your gaze went back to the camera when he didn’t say anything, only to find him staring—more like gawking at you with a silly-looking smile.
"Still pretty. I like how you do your hair." 
The morning was silence; no podcast from Linda regarding her ex-boyfriend because you didn’t know how, but the gem boy is staying on the video call with you, not so discreetly staring at you like a creep.
"Do you.." His voice came, halting the silence contest.
"Do you always get ready in silence? Like completely mute? You always had something to say. Even when I accidentally hit you, your mouth was still moving  nonstop." He saw you scowl and shrug before continuing his words. "Gotta keep on reminding you I didn’t hit you on purpose."
"Do you always drive fast? Because, you know, you drive fast cars for a living." You asked the question you had been wanting to ask ever since you knew he was a Formula 1 driver, thinking this could be the perfect time to ask the question since he didn’t look like he had anything to say other than looking at you. The foundation brush was pulled back a little so you could look at him.
"Not really. Sometimes, yeah, but I know my limit. Why?"
"I have this one colleague who loves to—sorry." The sparkle in your eyes was gone when you saw him looking away, seemingly distracted or unbothered with your attempt to talk.
"No, sorry. I always have trouble ripping this off. Finish the story. What happened to your colleague?" The newly opened protein bar in his hand was half gone as he took a bite.
"My colleague, he—" The coral blush in your hand made a soft thud sound against the dressing table as you burst out laughing.
"Yeah, that’s funny." His sarcastic laugh pulled you back to your senses as you went back to the blush, no longer in the mood to talk.
"Okay, okay! I’m sorry. But let me join you laugh! What happened to your colleague?" Another chunk of the protein bar was bitten off as he fixed his way of sitting, eyes still on you.
Though it was early in the morning and he had no obligation to wake up this early, he was listening to every story of yours, laughing whenever you laughed and smiling when he found you got carried away with your emotions. It was adorable to him.
"Are you going somewhere?" You asked, and the cap of the MAC lipstick was closed back as you pressed your lips together.
"Me? Nah, I’m going back to sleep after this." Charles replied, his eyes going back to the second protein bar.
"Am I keeping you up? I’m almost done." You stood up, getting your files, bag, and phone still in hand as you headed out of the house. "You can go back to sleep!"
"Do you have any plans tonight?" His voice came again through your phone speaker while you put on your heels.
"Yeah! I’m going out." The key pass was slipped into the bag as you headed to the elevator.
"With who?"
"My colleagues! They asked me to join them for a night out. It’s my first night out with them." After months of moving here, you would have thought you would get at least one friend from being born loquacious, but the language barrier set a limit to your friendliness.
"Where?" Charles asked.
It felt like being interrogated by your parents. The questions sounded like they were subtly wrapped in worry, but you were pretty sure he asked because he wasn’t expecting you to have friends. "Tch, it’s not your problem."
"Y/N, where?"  His stern voice cut you off from your bantering mood.
"Jimmy’z! Got to go. Bye!"
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"Y/N! How will you go home?" You turned back, a little lightheaded from going over your limit today.
"Me? I’m going to walk! It’s not that far." You giggled, having been fully influenced by the alcohol.
"See you next week!"
"Bye!" You had your hand cave around your lips as you shouted back before waving to your colleagues before a soft thud from your back pulled your eyes away. "Oh, my bag." You mumbled, bending down to get your handbag that slipped off your arm, and let out another giggle.
There wasn’t anyone else in the street. The light barely shined bright enough to light your way. The time on your phone stated it was 15 minutes past midnight. It was a little scary for you to still be out here in a foreign country with a language you could barely speak at this hour, but at least you wouldn’t bump into strangers on your way home.
"Hey!"
"Hey!"
You stopped, frowning, but still kept your gaze straight.
"You! The girl in the dark blue dress!"
The black-coloured sedan stopped by the side of the ride, moving a little as it copied your pace. "Me? Oh, hello!"
"Where are you going?" The window was rolled down as he peered from inside the car.
"I’m going home!"
"Do you want me to send you home?" The car was still left on, but he had hopped off and strode all the way to approach you.
"Oh, it’s okay! I can go home myself." His grip on your arm stunned you a little, but you were too drunk to fight back.
"I live nearby. It’s okay. Let me send you home."
"Oh, you live nearby?" He nodded to the question, which made you squeal in delight. "Okay, sure!"
The guy wasted no time and helped you get into the car while you kept on swaying, leaning against his body. You excitedly got in the car, thinking you were so lucky to not have to walk all the way home, when you realised your bag had fallen off, left at the side of the road where you were standing earlier.
"Wait, my bag." Groaning, you pushed the body that was hugging you earlier just so you could pick it up, but someone snatched it quicker than you. "Oh? It’s my bag! Give it back! Give it back, asshole!"
"I know! I know, it’s your bag, Y/N! Geez." Charles winced, and his free hand went to grab your wrist to stop you from hitting his chest.
"Charles Leclerc? Wait, you knew her?" 
Charles switched his gaze from you in his arms to the guy who was standing at the car earlier. The guy who made him run like a crazy guy. Long gone was the smug on the face that he saw earlier, the guy be looking surprised to see him there.
"She actually came with me, so I’m taking her home." He replied, remaining calm with a smile while you leaned on him, mumbling whatever words he could barely hear.
"I thought she came alone; I was going to send her home. I’ll get going then." Charles saw it in the way he clenched his fist as he walked back into the car. Frustrated, probably, but he was too stressed to say anything because at least you were safe. No cut, no scratch.
"You scared me to death, Y/N." He heaved a sigh, eyes shut, while he tightened his grip on you. You had stopped punching, hitting him as he gave the handbag away, so he knew you might be falling asleep, more positive from your calm wave of breathing. His heart was still beating like crazy, too scared to imagine what would happen if he didn’t choose to go with his gut feelings tonight.
"I’m sleepy.." You whined, mustering every strength to push yourself away from the embrace so you could make your way home.
"I know. I know, Y/N. Let’s get you home." He spared no chance and picked you up as you leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a good thing there weren’t many cars or people on the road at this hour. Not that he didn’t want to be seen with you. In fact, he was actually happy to see candid pictures of you and him taken by the fans being uploaded on the Internet, but if it were at this hour, it would have caused everything but something beneficial, knowing very well you were here for an internship. He didn’t want to ruin anything involving your career or reputation.
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He jumped back when you sat up as soon as he put you on the bed. It was a good thing he managed to find your access card in the bag, or else he would have no other option than to bring you back to his apartment, and he was pretty sure if he did that, he might wake up the next morning barely alive because he wasn’t sure if you would remember what happened, and if you didn’t, he didn’t think he would have enough time to explain before your fist landed on his eye.
"Y/N, where are you going?" He grabbed your arm as you stood up, your head still too heavy for you to walk straight.
"My makeup!" You stumbled your way to the bathroom while the driver followed behind. His grip on your arm still stayed, though it went loose once you leaned your body against the sink.
He laughed, flipping open the packaging where it stored your makeup removed pad after seeing you struggling with it, and leaned against the sink, his arms folded as he looked at you in the eyes.
"Stop looking at me!"
"I have eyes. What am I supposed to do with it other than staring and judging  people?" The driver leaned closer, now with a smirk plastered on his face as he saw you getting flustered.
"Okay, but I don’t need you to judge me right now."
"You are red." You took a step back when he moved his face even closer.
"I always get hot when I’m drunk." The cotton pad in hand was thrown into the small bin as you pushed him aside so you could wash your face.
"No. I don’t think so. I think you are red because you like me." He shrugged, and before you could walk out of the bathroom, he pulled you back by your waist, making you crash back into his body.
"Let me go! And I don’t like you. Maybe a little, but not much." The smirking face that was staring at you intensely with his arms around your waist made your knees weak. You would have dropped down on your knees here on the cold floor if he hadn’t held you up.
"Don’t do me like that anymore, Y/N. I’m serious." 
You were going to step away from his embrace, but his words and his shift of tone snatched your full attention. "Do you what, driver?"
"Don’t scare me like that." The truth was, he didn’t have any other plans tonight. He was supposed to be in his apartment, playing truck simulator with George, but something in his heart kept on whispering, forcing him to head to Jimmy'z, and when he got there, he saw a guy tugging on your shoulders with a smug face that told him he had no other intention than to take advantage of your state. He nearly tripped; his face nearly fell straight on the path as he saw you getting in the car without any second thoughts, with a freaking smile on your pretty face, but thank God, your handbag slipped off your arm the last second before the car door closed. He didn’t know what he would do or how far he would go if he had to chase after you in the stranger’s car.
"Did I scare you?" You blinked, unable to grasp what he was trying to say.
"A lot. I kept on thinking about what would happen if I was a second late." His gaze on the bathroom floor was brought up to yours, and he ended up smiling after seeing your clueless expression.
"Would a hug help?" You were a little lost, actually, because you were so sure you didn’t do anything. Except for being blessed meeting someone who offered to send you home for free, but he looked fully disturbed by that, so you extended your arms, offering a hug.
"Yeah. A hug from you would help a lot." He brought his body closer, engulfing you in his arms, where he finally let his wall down. Charles brought one hand on the back of your hair, stroking it while he dipped his face on your neck, smiling when he felt the soft pat on his back from your hand.
"Thank you for taking me home." You mumbled against his shirt before breaking the hug.
"I’ll call you tomorrow. Get enough rest. I would like to hear your annoying little chatter about your first night out with your colleagues." He sent a reminder before taking his jacket back and heading out of the apartment. You were expecting a smirk and a cocky look on his face from earlier, but as he turned back, looking at you, you saw a smile. A genuine one that tugged at the strings of your heart.
✧.* tag list for p.3 @styles-sunflower @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @lexiecamposv @formulas-bitch
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
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user-zvs · 5 months
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watching from a distance
pt 2
pt 1 here!
_
IN WHICH you, chuuya and dazai have a threesome to teach you a lesson.
tw: threesome?, penetration (M), degradation, slapping, pet names, small mention of blood.
*when the smut starts play fashion by Britany Manson*
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"I called chuuya here, hope you don-" Dazai chimed in remembrance. You shot up and stared at him with a confused and shocked expression.
"SO you knew where he was and still came? fuck you Dazai." you scoffed before realisation hit on what he said, making you rush to get dressed. "What are we rushing for?" Dazai said standing up.
"Chuuya will fucking kill us! we gotta-" You stated, before you could finished Chuuya kicked the room door open. You awkwardly smile as an attempt to make things better, didn't work. Chuuya walked straight towards you and looked you up and sighed in relief.
"Thank god you're safe, and you fuckface." The ginger directed his gazed to the taller man before shoving Dazai with full force. They fall ontop of eachother before chuuya socked him in the face.
SMUT AHEAD!
"Didn't I tell you t-" Chuuya barks before Dazai cut him off with a kiss that chuuya accepted. Dazai's hand groped Chuuya's ass as they broke from the kiss as Chuuya quickly removed his tops.
You yanked Chuuya off of Dazai, causing them to look at you in confusion.
"Since when were you gay?" You laughed as you watched him remove his pants. Your laughter stopped as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving you onto the bed. You watch him pull his boxers down, his dick springing out.
One thing you and Dazai know about Chuuya is that he's got an amazing dick, from experience. "Open your legs, slut." He demands. Your legs spread through muscle memory, his hands go to grip your hips as your lower half dangles off the bed.
His dick slowly dives into your cunt, making you bite your lip. His hips moving at a slow yet pleasurable pace, You feel him pick up the pace and his grip more harsh.
Deep moans could be heard mixed into yours, Which was obviously Dazai. He stroked his dick as he watched you get fucked into oblivion, this pissed Chuuya off. He slapped your face with medium force, making your head turn as he gripped your jaw harshly.
"Look over there again, filthy whore." He groans. His hand moves from your jaw to your neck as his lips crash into yours, his thrust become sloppy. You moan into his mouth as he kissed you roughly and his grip on your body tightens. "Chuuya~" you whine, he pulls out and stokes his dick as he came on you. He was edging you on purpose, as a torture mechanism.
Chuuya places his hat on your head before Dazai grabbed him and made out with him. You watched as the two men made out, Dazai was jerking Chuuya off before bending him over.
Chuuya's head was in a pillow, Moaning as Dazai was slowly thrusting into his ass. Dazai slapped Chuuya's ass as he licked the blood off his lips, rubbing and groping Chuuya's ass.
You were turned on watching them fuck. You stuck out your hand far enough for Dazai's spit to land on it, which it did. Your hand went to your cunt, rubbing circles as Dazai watched you play with yourself. Chuuya's muffled moans mixed in with yours as your hand plunged into your sopping cunt.
"Come on, your darling girl wants to hear your pretty moans Chuuya. Good boy~" Dazai teased. He pulled Chuuya's hair, making Chuuya more visible. His moans and groans bounced off the walls.
"Fuck Dazai~" Chuuya groaned, his moans got slutier seeing you play with yourself wearing his hat. You creamed on your fingers and huffed, Chuuya signaled you to come closer.
You scooted closer, Chuuya's lips instantly went to your soaking pussy. His tounge swirled around your clit, spit and cum pooled around his chin as he licked away. Your back arched as your hand gripped his hair, you pathetically attempt to grind on his face.
"Ngh~ Chuuya faster~" You whined, the vibration of his moans send shivers up your spine. Eyes rolled back as his fingers start to thrust into you as he ate you out. You came on his face, his nose and lower covered in your fluids and Chuuya cums on the sheets as he quivers as the overstimulation.
Dazai pulls out and strokes himself, shooting ropes on Chuuya's thighs as Chuuya lied on his back. Dazai leans to make out with Chuuya, he tries to pull away but Chuuya bites his lips making him groan.
"I don't care we had a threesome, no more kissing my girlfriend." Chuuya warned, Dazai put his arm up before kissing Chuuyas cheek. The blood from his lip staining Chuuya's pale freckled cheek.
Chuuya leaned to kiss you, making you taste the blood of Dazai's pretty lips. You felt him bite your lip hard as well, making you draw blood.
"Don't think this'll become a normal thing dear." He said before lying down. You licked the blood before lying on your side. You kind of missed this, sleeping with Dazai and Chuuya.
"I love you." Chuuya whispered in your ear, making you giggle.
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tags: @itzashlyn123 @cassymassy90000 @dazaisusedcumsock
IM PROUD OF THIS
184 notes · View notes
kisses4tom · 2 months
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Sooo, since we got Uncle Billy do we now get GirlDad!Tom ?? I’ve looked high and low for a Tom X Reader family story😂😭 your writing is amazing <3
ᡣ𐭩 DADDY TOM
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YAYY FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTED THIS!! 😭 I've been dying to write something like this since I have already made an uncle tommy hc! and thank you so much ml 💕
I think we can ALL collectively agree that Tom would be the BEST girl dad, right? 🌚 so the baby will be a little girl!
also I'm gonna make this a teen pregnancy (18), so from the very start up til now!
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when he finds out he would probably freeze for a moment before finally reacting (gotta soak it in yk)
he would be happy but shocked and confused at the same time
scared not to be present enough because of tour and the band
he would always kiss and touch your stomach
he'd cry when hearing the baby's heartbeat to the doctor 🥹🫶🏻
"I want the baby to be healthy, but if I had to guess I think it's a boy" (he 100% wants a girl)
idk I feel like he would call the baby "kleine Prinzessin" (little princess) or "kleiner Soldat" (little soldier) !!
when you go into labor he tries to keep his cool but deep down he's in full panic mode
the first time he met/held her it was like love at first sight for him even if he didn't quite know how to act since he never really had any past experiences with babies
he's very careful and gentle with her
always holding her
he would attack her with tickles to hear her little laugh
kiss attacks also
playing with her all the time
he wouldn't essentially spoil her (that's uncle Billy's job 😉) but he definitely gets her most things because he can't say no to that little face!
likes holding and showing her around: "look who's that in the mirror? it's you!"
definitely hiding her from the media
yet he LOVES talking about her in interviews!
though very very VERY rarely he would bring her out on stage and hold her like mf simba when she was about 1/2
his heart is always full whenever she's around
he would kneel down to talk to her‼️😩
always pushing her stroller or carrying her on his shoulders
don't ask me why but he'd get into play fights with her at the dinner table 😭 (especially when she's still learning to talk so she's speaking gibberish 😭)
he loves to take her baths and put fun toys in the tub
finds her extremely adorable in everything she wears
he'd give her his yellow dog plushie‼️😭 currently sobbing
I feel like he would try his best to let the baby's first word be "papa" 😭
when she's older he would start being more himself (so talk about things freely and make dirty jokes all the time)
he's not a regular dad, he's a cool dad! 😏 (please get the reference 😭)
he'd give her the talk 🫢🐝
he would pick her up in weird ways and make her laugh (like upside down etc lmfao 💀)
would let her do his hair but not his make-up
like I said in my uncle Tommy hc, i feel like he would love to play with the toy kitchen for some reason idk 💀
he's the overprotective girl dad FOR SURE (AND ITS THE HOTTEST AND CUTEST THING IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE)
he'd go down the slide with her 😭
at lunch/dinner he would always sit next to her
looooves when she's at their concerts and would ask Bill to dedicate her a song (especially her favorite)
he'd definitely write her a song too
he would make her try to eat a lemon 😭🍋
it's important to him that she has a good bond with her uncle Bill and the boys too! (uncle Georg and uncle Gustav 🥹)
"Y/n she looks more like me than you, gotta be honest"
he would give her what he didn't have growing up (if you read Bill's book, like I have, you'll know)
he wouldn't let anybody hurt or say anything wrong about her
hype man fr
high-key a very chill and permissive dad
he would make sure she knows her worth and to always be herself, without listening to what others say
always saying that she's the better copy of him
since he had her young, people (maybe even teachers at parent teacher conferences) mistake him for her brother and it's needless to say that he's very flattered while his daughter is just like 😐
they have a great bond
LITTLE FUN FACT‼️ Tom said in his podcast that if he ever has a daughter then his dream is to name her Nala like in the lion king movie 🤭😭 crying rivers rn part 2
your daughter tags along on tours, especially because it's very important for Tom and she loves it (idk if I already said this but oh well lmfaoo)
I have a feeling almost all her friends have a crush on Tom (i know i would 😋)
Tom is such a basic dad istg, he does bbq every sunday
if y'all ever become parents a second time then he would definitely have a happier reaction than the first one, yet he would be scared to take care of two little creatures~
his fans always ask about her during meet and greets and give her little presents, which he appreciates a lot
your daughter is pretty much popular in the entire fanbase you guys have and is considered a "lucky charm" from the band
Tom would give her the longest and most comforting hugs known to mankind
he'd make her a memory book with Bill 😭
and he'd give her some old goodies of his!
like some of his old clothes, hats, glasses etc..
overall he's the best dad and UGHHFHSJENF I cry just thinking about him not having any biological children :(
i hope you enjoyed this !! 💕 (also i apologize for any spelling mistakes but your girl over here is too lazy to re-read 🤪 love y'aaaallll)
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albertasunrise · 8 months
Text
Hope - Hope I See You Again
Masterlist
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Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.
Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (So a longer chapter...Another angst fest but I hope you enjoy. Had most of this written out already hence posting it so quickly after chapter 4, can't wait to heart what y'all think ♥️)
Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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10 years later...
"Sarah!" Joel calls up the stairs as he munches on his toast "Hunny you're going to be late." 
"COMING!" She replied as thumping steps erupted on the landing. 
Joel chuckled as he listened to his daughter clamber down the stairs, smiling when she planted a kiss on his cheek and skipped to the plate of toast he left on the side for her. 
"You're a good father." She said as she ravaged the breakfast he made her. 
"I try to be." 
"You make some for Uncle Tommy?" She asked as her ears perked up at the sound of his truck parking on the drive. 
"Yeah, yeah..." Joel waved her off "Although he's gonna eat me outa house n' home at this rate." 
"Who is?" Tommy asked as he walked into the kitchen, giving his brother a friendly slap on the arm as he passed. 
"You asshole." Joel grumbled, eliciting a snigger from Sarah. 
"Sarah baby... you're gonna miss the bus if you don't leave." Joel said as he eyed the clock. 
"Ah... crap... Okay, gotta go. See ya later Uncle Tommy." She said sweetly as she kissed his cheek before skipping to her father to do the same thing "Still on for tacos tonight?" 
"Wouldn't be Tuesday without them." Joel winked before waving at his daughter as she sprinted out the door. 
"Ready?" Tommy asked as he unceremoniously shoved the last of his toast into his mouth. 
"One of these days, you're gonna choke." He snorted as he pushed himself to his feet "I'm driving today." He said as he snatched up the keys and headed to the garage. 
...
Joel was just finishing up laying the table when Sarah came screaming in. He couldn't understand how she had so much energy despite being at school all day and then soccer practice afterwards. 
"HEY!" She shouted, practically skipping into the kitchen. 
"Hey baby girl, how was your day?" He asked as he grabbed and placed the serving spoon into the bowl of chorizo and potatoes that he'd just finished frying off. 
"Great, do you mind if a friend joins us?" She asked sheepishly, smiling sweetly at him as he turned to see a tall boy beside her. 
He seemed familiar. His dark hair and piercing blue eyes reminded him of someone he used to know. 
"Dad this is Noah." She said sweetly "He's new and his mum wasn't able to get him from school so I said he could come here for dinner and then you could drop him home later?" 
The boy's name made Joel's stomach twist. There was no way this was the boy that had been practically glued to Sarah's side as a toddler. There are plenty of kids with that name. 
"Baby I-" 
"I know I should have asked first but Dad... you always make extra so there will be plenty for all of us." She pleaded with her big brown eyes, knowing that it would win him over. 
"I don't wanna impose Mr Miller, sir." Noah said, his head dropping "I can probably walk home from here." 
"Sit down." Joel grumbled as he motioned to the table with his head, smiling when Sarah kissed his cheek and whispered thanks in his ear. 
He watched as Sarah eagerly dug into the food on the table before noting Noah's hesitance. 
"Dig in son." Joel encouraged and Noah gave him a nervous nod before doing as he was bid. 
Dinner then passed fairly easily. Sarah talked about school and practice as Noah smiled at her enthusiasm. 
"So where are you from Noah?" Joel asked as he wiped his hands on his napkin and grabbed his beer to take a swig. 
"I was actually born here." Noah confessed and Joel's heart sped up a little "My parents moved when I was little. Dad wasn't well and so we moved closer to my grandma." 
"You don't say." Joel replied, his heart in his throat as Noah continued. 
"We moved back here 'cus mum got a job in Austin. Thought it would be good to get a new start after dad..." He trailed off, his eyes growing sad. 
"Perhaps next taco Tuesday you can bring Ali?" Sarah suggested as she gave Noah's arm a friendly squeeze. 
"Ali?" Joel asked and Noah smiled sweetly "Ali's my little sister. Short for Alison." He replied sweetly "Well little ish... She's a few years younger than me." 
"Joel thought he was going to be sick. There was no way this wasn't the Noah he knew as a boy." 
"Dad..." Sarah called but Joel felt like he was drowning, her calls for him muffled like his head was underwater. 
"DAD!" She shouted and he leapt from his skin as he returned his attention to both of them "You okay?" 
"What?" Joel asked as his eyes flitted between the two kids "Oh... Yeah, sorry just uh... Just a long day." 
Noah's cell phone ringing filled the awkward silence that had blanketed the room and when he pulled it out to see who it was, he excused himself to take it. 
"You sure you're okay dad?" Sarah asked as she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"Yeah, baby." He replied sweetly, trying his hardest to be convincing "I'm fine." 
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10 years earlier...
"Joel, you need to take it easy man." Tommy pleaded as he pushed his brother back onto the bed "They cut into your fucking skull man." 
"What I need... is to get out of here." Joel grumbled as he let out a frustrated huff. 
"Sarah and I nearly lost you." Tommy choked, his eyes growing glossy as he remembered the last few weeks "We've watched you crash twice... Been told to prepare for the worst more times than I wanna remember... So please, just rest." 
"How are they?" He asked and Tommy sighed "They're doing as well as can be expected." Tommy sighed and Joel nodded "I think the kids have been a great distraction though." 
Joel smiled at that.
"When do you ship out?" Joel asked, changing the subject and Tommy signed "Sunday. Now you're not knocking on death's door, they've decided it's time for me to leave." 
"I'll be okay." Joel promised but Tommy didn't look convinced "I promise."
...
2 weeks later...
Joel watched as you puttered around the house, looking anything but relaxed as you finished clearing up after lunch. He gingerly pushed himself to his feet, wincing when his stitches pulled. 
"Need some help?" He asked as he limped into the kitchen. 
"No." You replied plainly and Joel sighed.
"Please, let me help." Joel pleaded and you growled in frustration. 
"You can help me by sitting the fuck down so you don't pull a stitch." You growled and Joel shrunk back. 
You'd been cold towards him since he got out and Joel couldn't say he blamed you. You were now stuck babysitting him as he recovered from three major surgeries on top of his daughter whom you'd been caring for for almost a month. 
"Please... I just... I want to help." 
"You've done enough Joel." That statement had him shrinking away from you as he nodded. 
"I'm going to check on Sarah." He said quietly as he limped from the kitchen.
"She's sleeping."
Joel didn't reply. Just left you to finish your frantic cleaning as he limped away with his tail between his legs.
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Present day...
"Sorry." Noah said as he stepped back into the room "Was my mum." 
"Everything okay? Sarah asked and Noah nodded. 
"Yeah, just a broken arm." 
"What happened?" Joel asked, his confusion obvious from his expression. 
"Oh, my sister hurt herself during gym." Noah replied "Why mum couldn't grab me... Was up the hospital with her." 
"What about you dad?" Joel asked and Noah grew quiet again. 
"Noah's dad died a few months ago." Sarah pipped up and Joel's eyes almost bugged out of his skull.
"Shit... I'm... Shit I'm so sorry son I-"
"It's fine." Noah assured him as he gave Joel a weak smile "Not like you knew." 
"Do you need me to drop you home?" Joel asked and Noah nodded. 
"If you don't mind." 
Joel gave him a friendly smile before grabbing his truck keys off the side. 
"Come on." 
...
Sarah sat in the back as Noah directed Joel home. He couldn't help but think about the little boy he'd known a decade ago and how he'd grown into this polite young man. Part of him wanted to confess that he and Sarah had been inseparable as kids but until he was sure that he was who he thought he was, Joel needed to keep that information to himself. 
"This is me." Piped up Noah as he pointed at a house with a Large Volvo parked in the drive. 
It was nice. Exactly the sort of house he'd pictured you living in. Pulling up, the porch light flicked on and the door opened, revealing a face that Joel had thought he'd never see again. Time had been kind to you. Your hard was cut to just below the shoulders and wavy and your features had matured but it was unmistakeably you. 
"Thanks, Mr Miller, sir." Noah said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his pack "Thanks for letting me crash Taco Tuesday." 
"Call me Joel, please." 
Noah gave the older man a shy smile before turning to say goodbye to Sarah. Hopping out the truck, Joel watched as Noah jogged up to you and he smiled as he watched to greet the boy with a hug. He'd known you'd be a natural mum. 
You glanced up at him and his heart stopped. Your eyes locked and he wondered if you'd recognise him too but when you squinted before raising your hand in thanks, Joel realised it was too dark in the cab for you to see him. 
Sarah clambering from the back to the front pulled Joel's attention away from the spot you'd been standing and he chuckled at the inelegant way the 12-year-old dumped herself in the passenger seat. 
"So what do you think of Noah?" She asked as she tried to act casual and Joel snorted. 
"He's a good kid." Joel replied as he pulled away from the curb "How did you guys meet anyway?" 
"He had to redo a year." Sarah replied "Not his fault. His dad was in and out of hospital so he missed a lot of school. When they moved here the school suggested that it would be good for him to redo 5th grade." 
"Do you know what happened to his dad?" Joel asked, trying to sound as inconspicuous as possible. 
"Apparently his dad was in an accident when he was little. Complications from that had him in and out of hospital but a year ago he got real sick and his immune system just couldn't cope." 
Joel once again felt like he was going to be sick. 
He'd had suffered a few long things from the crash. Back pain and headaches being the key ones but nothing following the surgery he'd had. So to learn that Alec had continued to suffer in the 10 years that followed the accident had him wanting to pull over and vomit up the tacos they'd eaten for dinner. 
You must hate him. 
...
"How was your evening hunny?" You asked as you finished unstacking the dishwasher. 
"Was great." He replied with a smile "Made a friend. Sarah Miller." He continued as he placed the plate you handed him in the cupboard "She invited me to join her and her dad Joel for taco Tuesday." 
"Joel Miller?" You asked, your heart hammering against your ribs as your eyes widened. 
"Yeah... You know him?" Noah asked as he turned to face you "Mum?..." 
"Um... Uh, yeah I..." 
Noah's eye caught a glimpse of a photo on the wall that until now he'd never looked at twice. It was of you and his dad with two guys you'd told him were friends from when you'd lived here. He looked more closely and noted how he was gripping the jeans of a man who looked a lot like Joel and then his eyes flitted to the little girl in the man's arms. His eyes widened as he studied her face. 
"This is them... isn't it?" Noah asked as he turned to look at you, pointing at the photo he'd been studying just a moment ago. 
"I was best friends with Joel's late wife." You answered as you sat down at the kitchen table "You and Sarah were inseparable as kids." You chuckled as you remembered how fond of Sarah Noah had been. 
"Why have you never mentioned them before?" 
"Because we fell out of touch." You confessed, "After your dad's accident, things got tense between us." 
"Tense?" Noah pushed "How?" 
"Joel was driving the car that night." You told him "He almost died but when he left the hospital, I blamed him for your dad's condition and so our friendship kinda fell apart." 
"But Dad's car was t-bone by a drunk truck driver." Noah pushed and you sighed.
"I know."
"So it wasn't Joel's fault." 
"No." You choked as you remembered how bad things had gotten "But I blamed him anyway.
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10 years earlier... 
Joel's head was pounding. 
Headaches had been a constant complication from the surgery on his head. Limping into the kitchen, he found you leaning against the counter sipping a cup of coffee as you started out the window across from you. 
If you heard him enter you didn't show it. It had been a week since you'd snapped at him and Joel had done his best to give you space. Even if that meant suffering his increasingly painful headaches but this one was unbearable. 
"Have you seen my pain pills?" He asked as he limped towards you and you shook your head.
"No." 
"Any idea where they could be?" He asked as he tried to rummage through the cupboard for them. 
"No." 
"Please... my head is pounding." He pleaded and that seemed to snap you out of your trance. 
"Oh... You have a headache do you?" You growled condescendingly "Poor Joel's head hurts." 
"Please." Joel pleaded but you were having none of it. 
"Alec is paralysed from the waist down and you want me to keep track of where you put year headache tablets?" You growled and Joel immediately stopped searching. 
"I-"
"The man I love... the father of my unborn child is never going to walk again." You snarled as you slammed down your mug, making Joel flinch from the sound "He's never going to walk again... meanwhile, you get to walk away with no long-term consequences. How is that fair?" 
"I'm so sorry." 
"I don't want your apologies, Joel." You growled, "I just want you out of my life." 
Joel didn't care that you could see his tears. He stood there openly sobbing as you scoffed and turned your back from him.
"I think it's time you left." You said as your hand closed around something in front of you, turning to toss his pain pills at him. 
Joel didn't reply he just nodded. Limping from the kitchen to pack his things. 
He left an hour later. 
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Present day...
Noah had been off with you since the evening he'd learned his history with Sarah and Joel. You felt guilty about how you'd treated Joel all those years ago but you'd been pregnant and lost. You'd hated the fact that your husband had been crippled for life and needed someone to blame. 
You'd blamed Joel. 
You were standing in line waiting for your morning coffee when a familiar voice caught your attention. Looking over your shoulder you saw an older Tommy Miller walking towards the bar. 
He ordered his coffee, paid then walked towards you. Only to stop in his tracks when he spotted you and his smile disappeared. 
"Long time no see." You said when he took a few more tentative steps towards you. 
"Yeah. Been a while." He replied plainly and you flinched at his tone. 
"How have you been?" You asked and he shrugged.
"Left the army. Working for Joel now." He replied and you nodded. 
"How is Joel?" You asked as you accepted your coffee from the barista and thanked them. 
"Do you care?" He growled and your brows pulled together. 
"Oh course... I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." 
"He's fine." Tommy grumbled as he poured a few sugars into his coffee before turning to you "He wasn't the night you kicked him out." 
"Tommy I-" 
"He collapsed after getting out of the taxi that had taken him and Sarah home." He interrupted, his tone ice cold as he turned to face you and leaned in closer "He'd developed another brain bleed and almost died. Ali's parents had to fly out from Canada to take care of Sarah whilst Joel fought for his life for a second time." 
"I didn't know." You choked as your hand flew up to your mouth.
"No..." Tommy trailed off as he scoffed at you "You were just too caught up in your own problems to notice how he'd started to go downhill." 
You didn't get a chance to reply. 
Tommy was out of the door before you could utter a syllable. He just left you standing there feeling terrible about the fact that you had neglected him. You had blamed him for your misfortune and you had pushed him away when he needed you. 
You had to fix this. 
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Next
For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog
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cynical-ghost · 1 month
Text
EMO GIRL
Paring: Lando Norris x private!girlfriend!reader
Genre: smau-social media, fluff.
Warning(s): use of Yn, some hate comments but not many, and that’s about it
Synopsis: Lando and Yn have been together since high school days but no one has ever seen you, except for your families and the other drivers in the grid. It’s finally time for the internet to meet Lando’s Emo Girl.
A/n: this is a tad bit self indulgent as i dress like this, side fringe and all 😭 But i also wanted to make a Lando fic to make up for making him evil in the last one.
Fc: I found the pics on Pinterest🫶
F1_wags
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Liked by L04NNO1, landonorizzz, yourbff and 126,093 others
F1_wags Lando seems happier talking about his high school sweetheart than about his second win of the season! Hopefully we get to meet the woman responsible of his happiness soon!💕
Landonorizzz I am still in denial that this man managed to bag someone with his frighteningly bad moves😭😭
L04NN01 gotta change your user soon 😂
Landonorizzz it doesn’t matter if he had a girlfriend or not this man still has no rizz and never will😆
Yourbff Hmmm I wonder who she is????🧐🤔🤔🤫@/Ynforeal do you have any clues?
Ynforeal No…now shush🤐
User15 sooo anyone else find these comments suspicious?
User21 get back to bed granny
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LandoNorris
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Liked by Ynforeal, yourbff, maxverstappen1 and 986,548 others
Landonorris @/Ynforeal is not going to be happy this is the first picture I’m posting of her, but oh well. Love you 💕
User15 WHAT DID I TELL YOU!!!
Landonorizzz You guys are so cute together, it was so nice meeting you guys, I think I’m more of a Yn fan than a Lando fan 😂❤️
Ynforeal you’re so sweet! It was so cool to meet you!!! (Luv ur user<3)
Landonorizzz OMFGPMFGOMFGKSBDB
Ynforeal WTF Lando😭 crying real tears…
Landonorris 1. I’m sorry 😂 and 2. I’m sitting right next to you, you are smiling like crazy…
Ynforeal oh yeh.
Landonorris Ow, now my arm hurts😭
Ynforeal payback car boy🏎️
Yourbff FINALLY!!! Now I can openly ship you guys till my hearts content
User21 She look so cool omfg, I wanna be her friend!🤩
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Ynforeal
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Liked by Landonorris, yourbff, yoursister and 762,984 others
Ynforeal Why? Just…why?
Landonorris👉👌?
Ynforeal🤨
Landonorris is that a no to 🍆🍑
Ynforeal 🫡🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧍‍♂️
Landonorris😁
Landonorizzz wtf is going on in here??
User22 I’m scared, mum come get me!!
User21 kids let’s go
Ynismymother SHE IS GORGEOUS!!!
Oscarpiastri why do I ever check the comments on your account.
Ynforeal look away child…
Yourbff YASSS QUEEN SHIT!!!
Yourbff YOU LOOK SO FUCKING GOOD I COULD KISS YOU
Landonorris please refrain from smooching my girlfriend.
Yourbff sleep with one eye open mofo.
Landonorris👁️
72 notes · View notes
psycholuvrgirl · 1 year
Text
sweets! part II
ethan landry x bimbo!oc [winnie adair]
summary: the friend group discusses the rules of the new set of ghostface killings and possible suspects. ethan and winnie play a game.
warnings: mentions of murder, nsfw implication/discussion
a/n: chapter two early as a treat <3
masterlist
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Winnie and Ethan approach the group hand in hand. Since the prior night’s events, Winnie had texted Ethan once he had gone home, asking if he would stay close to her during the day. Ethan was more than happy to oblige; walking her to her classes, holding her hand, and even waiting near the bathroom for her. Ethan sits down and Winnie takes her spot in his lap, just as she had last night, and Mindy stands from the bench where she was waiting for them to arrive. 
“Okay, nerds! And Winnie,” Mindy announces, gesturing to the other girl with the mention of her name. Winnie fakes a curtsy, giggling at being singled out. Mindy continues her message, “Listen up! As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not… calling the killers last time.”
“I called it,” Winnie says, smiling proudly.
Mindy glares at her, “As a joke. You didn’t actually mean it.”
“I was still right,” Winnie says. Ethan puts up his hand and Winnie high-fives him, sticking her tongue out at Mindy.
Ethan can’t help but be a little distracted by the size of her hands. They’re smaller than his, and so soft. She interlaces their fingers and he smiles at the action, their hands dropping to their sides.
“You two are scaring me more than Ghostface can,” Mindy says, her face flat as she looks at them. She clears her throat and turns back to the group, “Anyways. The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel.”
“Um, what’s a requel?” Anika asks, putting her hand up to get Mindy’s attention.
“You’re beautiful, sweetie. Let’s hold questions to the end,” Mindy says.
“It’s made up,” Winnie whispers. Anika nods and gives her a thumbs up.
“Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro. Stab 2 took place in college,” Sam says.
“So we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies?” Tara asks.
“That is one possibility. Heroes now in college: check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count: check, check, and check,” Mindy says, pointing to the three newcomers to the group.
“I don’t like this,” Ethan says. Winnie leans her head back onto his shoulder, looking up at him.
“You’re telling me,” she says with a smile.
“Ignoring that,” Mindy says, looking away from the pair with a disgusted expression. “It can’t just be about Stab 2.”
“Why not?” Tara asks. Winnie and Ethan revert their attention back to the group.
“It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore,” Mindy says.
“Oh Mindy, you nerd, get on with it,” Winnie says, rolling her eyes.
“We’re in a franchise!” Mindy announces. Winnie groans, throwing her body limply into Ethan’s. Mindy ignores the girl’s dramatic display and continues. “And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise.”
“I had a feeling,” Sam says with a sigh. Winnie moves in Ethan’s lap, turning so she can lay on him comfortably. The boy welcomes her to do so, wrapping his arms around her when she’s comfortable. He notices Chad watching them in his peripheral vision but refuses to look over at his roommate.
“Rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count. Longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings. You gotta top what came before to keep people coming back.”
“Beheadings?” Chad asks, looking up at his sister.
“Beheadings,” Mindy repeats. “Rule two: whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations. If the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here.”
“She talks so much,” Winnie whines, looking at Mindy for her reaction.
“Suck on a lollipop and shut up,” Mindy says, a fake smile on her face. Winnie laughs at the girl’s jab, standing up and walking around to stand behind Ethan. She rests her chin on him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “And rule three: no one is safe. Legacy characters? Cannon fodder at this point. Usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. Oh, and that’s not even the worst part!”
“Oh, I would love it if you would tell me, though,” Winnie says, acting excited.
“Lucky for you this is the part where she tells us the worst part,” Chad says, looking up from his book for a second.
“The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic installments designed to boost an IP,” Mindy says, “Which means main characters are completely expendable now too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Sally Hardesty, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond. I mean, even Luke Skywalker! All died so their franchises could live on. That means it’s not just the friend group. Any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara.”
“Wait-- Wait, any of us?” Ethan stutters.
“Yeah.”
“Does… Am I in the friend group?”
“Yeah.”
“Am I, like, one of the targets?”
“Mhm,” Mindy nods.
“Am I gonna die a virgin?” Ethan asks. Everyone looks over at him, their faces contorting with confusion.
“I can make sure you don’t,” Winnie says, leaning her head closer to his with a toothy grin on her face.
“Winnie,” Mindy complains, her pitch a little higher with the disgust in her voice. Winnie giggles, pressing her lips to Ethan’s cheek. A pink, glossy lip print stains his skin and Ethan tries, and fails, to contain his blush. Mindy shakes her head, trying to ignore the affectionate display. “Moving swiftly along to our suspects.”
“Riveting,” Winnie mocks, leaning over Ethan into her bag. He watches carefully as she pulls out that familiar red candy. He wishes she was back on his lap so he could watch her enjoy the sweet treat.
“Ethan,” Mindy says. The boy looks up at the mention of his name, pulled away from his thoughts of Winnie sucking on the lollipop. “The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”
“Why am I on the suspect list?” Ethan asks, “Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?”
“Roommate lotteries can be juked. You could have fixed it to get next to us,” Mindy says, earning an eye roll from Ethan. “Besides, you’re weaseling your way into Winnie’s life and I don’t trust that you’re doing it for the right reasons.”
“I’m not weaseling--”
“Weasel,” Mindy declares. She turns to Quinn, saying her name as she does. “The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic.”
“‘Sex positive,’ but… thank you,” Quinn says, more of a question than a genuine thank you.
“Mhm. Um, how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?” Mindy asks.
“I answered their ad online,” Quinn says.
“Okay, say no more. You’ve already implicated yourself enough,” Mindy exclaims.
“It was an anonymous ad, Mindy,” Tara says, “And you know we vetted her. Plus her dad is a cop.”
“And that makes it more likely that she’s the killer because having a cop dad is a great cover,” Mindy says, “Do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?”
“I want to leave,” Winnie whispers into Ethan’s ear. He reaches for his bag but is stopped by Mindy pointing at him angrily.
“Sit down,” she says, giving them a stern look. Winnie groans, going around to sit back on Ethan’s lap with a huff.
“Is she always like this?” Quinn asks. Sam does a half-nod, half-shrug in response.
“And finally… Anika,” Mindy says. Anika smiles and blows Mindy a kiss, getting an air kiss in return. Mindy’s smile drops, “Never trust the love interest.” Anika’s smile fades at Mindy’s words.
“Okay! So, we have our rules and we have our suspects,” Sam says.
“But wait,” Ethan says, “What about you guys?”
“I mean, I think it’s pretty safe to rule out the five of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro,” Mindy says.
“Agreed,” Chad says.
“Um, not agreed,” Quinn says, “What if the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?”
“Yeah, or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more,” Ethan says, “I mean, let’s be honest here, some of the theories online about Sam are--”
Winnie shushes him, but Tara is quick to turn to him, “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“You can’t say things like that,” Winnie says, tapping his lips with her lollipop as if she’s scolding him. His eyes are a little wide, but he nods regardless of his shock at the threat from Tara.
“Okay, she’s right though,” Anika says, "I mean, face facts -- if we’re all suspects, you’re all suspects.”
The group looks at one another, silently giving each other looks of suspicion. Winnie raises her hand after a minute, looking at Mindy.
“What?” Mindy says. Winnie drops her hand to her side, taking the candy out of her mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.
“Can I leave now?”
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“Do you really believe Mindy?” Ethan asks. Winnie looks up at the boy, shrugging in response to his inquiry.
“I don’t know,” she says, “I think she’s kinda dramatic with her explanations… But there’s also a murderer out there trying to kill us, so I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry and listen to her.”
Ethan nods, “Yeah, that’s true.”
“Why? Do you?” Winnie asks, swinging their interlocked hands between them.
“Oh yeah,” Ethan says. The sarcasm is laced in his voice and he nods, his curls bouncing with the movement of his head. “I totally believe her. Especially when she accuses me of being Ghostface.”
Winnie giggles, hiding her face while she does. She shakes her head a little and looks back up at him, “I knew it was you, Landry.”
“Yeah, I’ve always loved playing games,” Ethan says. Winnie steps closer to him, letting go of his hand and trading it to wrap her arms around his.
“Well if you’re Ghostface, can you at least spare me?” she asks. He looks down at her and she’s giving him those damn puppy dog eyes. She’s used them a couple times with him -- once at a store when she wanted a chocolate bar, another when she wanted a piggyback ride, and a few times when she wanted him to carry her bag. 
“I’ll consider it,” he says, opening the door to the building for her.
“C’mon,” she says, now walking backward so she can look at him. “What can I do to be spared?”
He pretends to think, “Wanna play a game?”
She laughs, “What kinda game?”
“Trivia,” he says. She lets out an ‘ooh’ and agrees to play along with him as they enter the elevator. “What building do I live in?”
“Hortense Tower,” she says. The doors shut behind them and he smiles at her.
“Good, good,” he says. His hand hovers near the columns of buttons, “And what floor?” She smiles, reaching past him and clicking the button labeled ‘3.’ He nods, “And which room?”
“Hmm,” she hums, tapping her chin in pretend thought.
“Times ticking,” he says.
“316,” she responds, pretending not to know.
“I’m sorry, sweet thing, but that’s wrong,” he says, shrugging, “Guess I can’t spare  you.”
“No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface,” she says, pouting, “I wanna be in the sequel!”
“It’s too bad, really,” he says, “I liked you.”
The doors open and a few students move out of their way as they exit. Winnie sighs, shaking her head. “Let me try again. Bonus round!”
He pulls out his keys as they approach his door, “Fine, what school do I go to?”
“Oh you love me,” she says. He laughs at her excitement playing the fake game. She giggles, “Blackmore University. Easy!”
“Amazing job,” he says, pushing the door open. She squeals, running over to his bed and jumping onto it. She barely makes it on top, the bed being  quite high up in comparison to her. She kicks off her shoes as he closes his door and drops his things next to his desk.
“I’m a final girl,” she says with a sing-song voice. She adjusts the way she’s sitting, propping herself onto her knees and watching him make his way over.
“Yes you are,” he says, “Congratulations.”
He stands in front of her, both of them just looking at each other. It feels like an eternity of silence, an eternity of just admiring one another; in reality, it’s only a minute. Their smiles fade a little, not with upset, but instead because they’re focused on one another. Winnie scoots closer to the edge of the bed and both of their breaths become shallower, hearts speeding up.
“Ethan?” she whispers.
“Yes?” he asks. His eyes roam her face and he notices the way her eyes keep flicking to his lips.
“I wan--”
He doesn’t let her finish her request, she doesn’t need to. He knows exactly what she wants because he wants the same thing as her. He grabs her face, pulling her into a hasty kiss. She squeals in delight when their lips touch, her arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close to her.
“Eth,” she breathes out into his mouth. He moves his hands to her waist, pulling her closer. Her knees are now over the edge of the bed, on either side of him. His hands grip her exposed skin tightly, fingers digging into the squishy flesh greedily. Her fingers work their way through his curls, gripping the strands of hair for a moment.
The jingle of keys outside the door makes them pull away, much to their dismay. Ethan takes a step back and Winnie straightens out her clothing, fixing her top and smoothing out her skirt. Chad enters the room a moment later, slowing down when he notices the two.
“Dude,” he says, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. The two look at him, feigning innocence. It isn’t till Chad makes a motion around his lips that the feeling of the sticky gloss on Ethan’s face becomes noticeable to the boy. He touches it with a finger, pulling it away to see the glittery substance.
It’s quiet between the three of them, the door still wide open behind Chad. Other students pass by, not knowing the tension that’s thick in the room. They look at one another, eyes flicking between each other in the passing moments.
“I, for one, am not sorry,” Winnie says, breaking the silence, receiving a glare from Chad.
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desire-mona · 5 months
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siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.
(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)
- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.
- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.
- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.
- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.
- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.
- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.
- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!
- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.
- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.
- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.
- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)
- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)
- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.
this is the gender part
never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!
also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.
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thezombieprostitute · 3 months
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Fate - Part 3
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Word Count: ~2.1k
A/N: Reader is Tall and Plus Size female.
Warnings: Attempted kidnapping, Fistfight, Implied violence, Smut
Part 1; Part 2
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Curtis’s phone dings. “Go ahead and check that,” the other biker, Lance Tucker, smiles. “I’m sure you’re going to want to see the message.”
Curtis pulls out his phone and sees a text from you. I’m being followed. He lifts his eyes from his phone, glaring at the grinning asshole across from him.
“Gotta say, your lady is pretty unique,” he winks. “Makes her a lot easier to find in a crowd.”
“Am I allowed to text back,” Curtis asks, rage dripping from every word.
“So you can tell her to call someone? Not a chance.” Lance crosses his arms and leans back, confident in his having the upper hand. “In fact, set the phone on the table. Just so we can see her get sadder and more desperate that you're not answering.” He gestures to Edgar, sitting next to Curtis, “you too. Can't have someone in Everett's circle messaging her either.”
Edgar tries to protest but Curtis cuts him off and motions for the phone. Curtis clenches his jaw as he places the phones between him and Lance. He knew Tucker would stoop low to get what he wanted but he still can't believe he'd threaten you. Now he understands why Lance insisted on such a small meeting, just him and Franco meeting Curtis and Edgar, with the rest of the gang out of hearing range.
It's been months since you first gave Curtis your phone number. Months of the two of you learning how to balance a relationship in a dangerous environment. Months of you learning biker vernacular and biker gang structure. Months of him learning to let someone new into his life, letting you see the real him. Months of Curtis learning that he could be soft with you and still demand the respect of his gang, and the other gangs in the area.
And now, during negotiations, Tucker had taken advantage of that softness to vie for more territory for him and his Bronze Gang. He's playing a dangerous game. Word gets out to the other gangs, Tucker's entire group will be practically “kill on sight”. But if he gets you, holds you hostage, Curtis will be forced to keep his mouth shut about it.
The phone dings again and Lance reads the text, “Definitely being followed. Heading to populated area to wait for you.” He grins at Curtis, “how sweet. You've planned for things like this! Can't wait to see if she starts crying when you never show up.”
Curtis grips the arm of his chair, attempting to keep his composure. He wouldn't put it past Lance to order his men to hurt you twice over if he gets hurt.
Another text, this time letting Curtis know your location.
“Of course,” Lance begins, “if you were to maybe give me a bit of your territory, I could call of my boys.”
“You're asking for almost half of the Snowpiercer territory.”
“Exactly, almost half. You can afford to give that up.” His own phone dings and he takes a look. “Ah, there's a pretty photo.” He shows Curtis a photo of you sitting at a cafe. “Gotta admit, I'm not normally for the big and tall girls, but I could see myself tapping that if it means pissing you off.”
The arm of the chair starts to break under Curtis's grip, getting Franco's attention. Another text, you asking Curtis to confirm he's received your texts. One on Edgar's phone as well.
“You're not gonna say anything?” Lance smirks, “just gotta give over the territory I asked for and you can go get your girl.”
“I don't know that you'll actually let her go,” Curtis rebuts.
“You know what, that's fair,” Lance agrees. “After all, you tell the others what went down, I'm a dead man, right? So it really would be in my best interest to keep your girl close. Maybe close enough to touch at all times.”
Edgar jumps at Lance, causing Franco to stand, but Curtis grabs the back of his shirt just in time to pull him back. Edgar gives Curtis a look, “you can't seriously be thinking of agreeing to this! I know she's your girl but this is about more than her!”
“I know,” Curtis growled. He pulls Edgar in close and whispers, “we just gotta give her time. She's my Queen, she's smart enough to figure this out and get out of danger.”
“You don't know that,” Edgar protests, loud enough for Lance to hear.
Another set of dings on their phones. Lance's chuckles confirm they're from you.
“We have to try,” Curtis whispers. “Please trust me.”
Edgar nods, “fine, but I don't have to like it.”
“Oh, does that mean you're gonna agree?” Lance's voice cuts the tension between the two men, redirecting it towards him. “Oooo! If I weren't holding all the cards I'd be scared.”
Curtis sits back down, “we all know I can't give you that territory. But you're right that I don't want her hurt. The problem for you, though, if she does get hurt because I refuse to give you what you want, the other gangs will get told. She gets hurt, or worse, you'll have no territory and likely no genitalia after all's said and done.”
“You're not wrong,” Lance smirks. “But you'll still lose her. How much longer is your group gonna hold your territory with a broken president? Leaves a good opportunity for me to just run away for awhile and come back when the power vacuum is in full swing. I get to hurt you, deeply, and just run away long enough for people to forget about me. I can be patient if it means winning.”
His phone rings, making him drop his smile for the first time all meeting. Curtis nods, “you're gonna want to answer that.”
Lance answers his phone, “what?!” His frown turns angry as he listens to the person on the other end of the phone. “How the hell did you--” He looks over at Curtis and Edgar, before stepping away and angry whispering, “how the hell did you lose the bitch? She's a fucking sasquatch! You don't lose someone like that!” More silence. “You're telling me you can't tail a fucking taxi?”
That's all Curtis needs to hear. He gives a silent signal to Edgar and they make their moves. Edgar gets Franco into a choke-hold while Curtis sucker-punches Lance in the kidney, making him drop the phone. Taking advantage of Lance being incapacitated, if momentarily, Curtis helps Edgar with Franco.
The struggle leads to the three of them crashing through the door, getting the attention of Snowpiercer. Curtis's men swarm the area and quickly get Lance and Franco restrained.
Running back into the room, Curtis grabs his phone and calls you.
“I'm guessing this means I'm okay?” Your voice is cautiously optimistic and immediately calms him.
“Yeah, threat's contained,” he confirms. “Ask Lockley to bring you here and I'll make sure he gets double the usual pay for his help.”
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The second you step out of the taxi Curtis is on you. Holding you, kissing you, ignoring the world around you.
Edgar is handing the money to Lockley, “thanks, again, for the help.”
“Está bien,” Lockley replies. “Señora was good company. Not a lot of questions.”
“Have a good night,” Edgar says as Lockley drives off. He turns to look at you and Curtis, still wrapped in each other's arms, and rolls his eyes. “Curtis! We gotta let the other gangs know what happened.”
Curtis pulls away, but never lets go of your hand. He walks you into the bar and gets to work letting the other bikers know what the Bronzes did. Holding onto Lance's phone as evidence.
Once the work is done, Curtis takes you to his “office” in the back of the bar. The door is barely closed before you're pushing Curtis onto the couch and straddling him. You have a lot of adrenaline and want to fuck it out of your system and he's letting you take the lead.
You pull his shirt off and start grinding your hips against him, enjoying the feel of his bare torso. “Take off my bra,” you breathe. “Want to feel your mouth on my breasts.”
Curtis expertly unclasps your bra and you lean back long enough for him to pull off your clothing. Once freed, you arch your back, pushing your boobs into his face and he eagerly starts sucking and kneading on them, making you moan in pleasure. His large hands push your breasts together and he tongues over both of your nipples, making you grind against his crotch even harder. He gives one of your breasts a gentle bite and you wrap your arms around his head, pushing him further into your chest as you chase your first orgasm.
As you climax, you pull his head away from your chest so you can shove your tongue down his throat. He groans and squeezes you tight, his hands continually running up and down your back, his pelvis continuing to grind against you. Reaching between your bodies you undo his belt and reach a hand down the front of his pants, delighting in the hardness you feel underneath the fabric.
The two of you finish removing your clothes and you push him back to sitting on the couch so you could ride his cock. You loved riding Curtis. None of your other partners would let you because of your size but Curtis encouraged you. It made you fall for him so fast, knowing that your size was an attractor, not something “to get used to” like other lovers had said. Curtis loved your long legs that were so strong they could keep him pinned against you. He loved your curves that made you so soft to squeeze. You were his Queen and he made sure you felt like it.
You're dripping as you line yourself up with his cock, sitting so that you take the entire thing at once. It's taken you some practice to get used to taking him but damn if you haven't enjoyed every minute of it. You keep a fast pace as you moan and whine from how good it feels to be so full, to have him kneading your breasts, to have him groaning your name.
“Smack my ass,” you hum into his ear. You're immediately rewarded with a sharp sting, making you gasp loudly. “Again,” you plead, rewarded again with another spank. You moan loudly as you clench around him, making him hiss.
He's trying not to come already, knowing you need him to keep going. The sight of you taking his entire cock, your eyes half closed in ecstasy, the sheen of sweat making you shimmer. You're gorgeous. He swears you could make him come with just a glance if you really wanted.
“I wanna come,” you groan into his ear. He starts fucking up into you, hitting that spot that makes you melt, and you brace yourself on his shoulders pleading for him to not stop. Between the sounds of moans and the slapping of skin, he swears he's never felt such ecstasy. You come so loudly you drown out Curtis's groan as finally lets himself spill into you.
“Fuck, I needed that,” you groan.
“Me too,” he says as he nuzzles your neck.
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Least I could do,” he grumbles, “since I'm the one who put you in danger.”
“No you didn't.” You lean back and hold his face so he has to look at you. “That asshat put me in danger. Not you. You gave me the resources I needed to get out of danger. You worked with me through various scenarios. Most importantly, you trust me to not lose my head, to use the resources.”
“You are too good to me,” he whispers.
You smirk and move to separate your bodies, trying not to make too much of a mess on the couch. The two of you move to the bathroom and clean yourselves up, paired with kisses, caresses and even some giggles.
Curtis asks, “are you going to be okay while I work?”
“Yeah, I'm safe here. Gonna sleep on the couch until you're done torturing the asshole.”
Curtis chuckles darkly, “you sleep well. I”m gonna send the message that no one messes with my Queen.”
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Part 1; Part 2
Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly because I promised I would!
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everyone who writes and supports miles smut can block me, that includes 42 btw.
PLEASE SHARE THIS TO ANYONE WHO SUPPORTS AGED UP MINORS (SPECIFICALLY MILES MORALES)
TW: BELOW THE CUT IS DISCUSSION OF P//DO, UNDERAGE CONTENT. (I don’t go too far into detail but I know some people have been affected by it).
elaboration on why aging up (for sexual purposes) is bad
miles is canonically 15 and dont even pull that “he’s aged up” shit with me cause you know damn well on aged up fanfics they use pictures of CANON MILES. so its pretty obvious u have the teen in your mind. and you know what the ones that are around his age are annoying too but it doesnt put nearly of a bad taste in my mouth as the GROWN ASS ADULTS who make that shit.
and btw dont go and say “oh, it’s hormones and plus miles has hormones” and to that i have to say:
1. if you are a child who likes miles like that, fine, deal with that shit in private tho. you posting s*xual content of a minor is catering to creepy adults online
2. if you’re an adult saying that shit then i can say nothing less that you have the mindset of a groomer. You’re not very far from the mfs who say that “teenage girls are at their ripe age at 16.” you as an adult SHOULD NOT be using teenagers having hormones to your advantage and excuse. That’s disgusting.
“they’re just a fictional character” 😟 can you get a grip? go outside. Miles is a fictional character who is BUILT and DESIGNED to look like a teenager. And astv aint that unrealistic that you can say he’s ambiguous. He’s not. And even if he was he does activities that I do as a teen—I go to high school, I’m nervous about my future—miles is literally a relatable teen, as he was designed to be.
“Then stop looking for the smut posts.” I DONT NEED TO! It infiltrates my ASTV tag and at times the Hobie Brown tags too. You act like your tags aren’t public. If someone wanted to read a Miles fic that was normal fluff they would have to scroll through some smut too!
anyway thats all and dont even both coming up in my comments and reposts throwing a hissy fit you niggas r weird asf and can block me. maybe then id see less weird shit on my tag page. do us all a favor and log off.
+ Update: His ages from any other media isn’t a valid excuse. If you were clearly writing for canon adult miles you wouldn’t have astv miles as the icons and astv as the tag.
+ Update: Miles is CANONICALLY 15 in the first movie, and somewhere in the last movie he was YOUNGER. As mentioned above, mentioning other media as an excuse is bs when in the movies your writing for (itsv, atsv) he’s clearly a minor.
+ The thing that pisses me off the most is how ya’ll act like the people who are uncomfortable are weird. Are you not writing s*xual content about a 15 year old on a daily basis? please.
+ Fiction DOES affect reality. Why do you think people have nightmares after horror? Why does a sad film make people cry? Why does a deep movie change perspective?
+ In the scene where Miles argues with his parents, he says something along the lines of “I’m 15!!!” So if you think he’s not underage, you either didn’t pay attention or don’t have google. Plus what 18 year old discusses college that late? (without any other discussions prior?)
+ if you like little boys stop tryna hide that you like little boys it makes you even more manipulative and gross. no but in all seriousness telling minors that behavior is okay has gotta be SOME form of grooming on a more subtle scale. sorry if that’s too bold for ya’ll but as someone who’s been tricked into thinking content like this was okay when I was younger, I can confirm that this isn’t okay.
+ If to prove character that’s canonically a minor isn’t one you have to pull up seven different source materials that barely correlate to the one you write for, that character is still a fucking minor! It’s giving “she’s actually 3000!!!” when she looks 8.
yeah. kay bye!!!
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Club Lights And Sex On The Beach
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PART 1
Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader
Warnings: 18+, alcohol, drinking, one-night stands/hookups, smut, penetrative sex, drunken sex (still consensual), protected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), afab reader, feminine terms of endearment used, pretty much a female reader but you could get away with it not imagining the reader as a woman.
Summary: After a fun night at the club you run into a handsome stranger and his friends. What happens when you end up in his bed?
Authors Note: This is a multichapter series!!!!!!! This is only part 1 but we are gonna get into a full-fledged story pretty soon. I will be posting parts 2 and 3 later tonight because they are both pretty short. If you choose this could be read as a one-shot but I strongly recommend following the series. I hope you enjoy it!!! also, remember that my requests are always open!
you can also read on AO3 here.
masterlist
PART 2 & 3 out now.
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Part 1
The lights came down harshly on your skin, illuminating the dim room just a tad more. The club is decently packed, and a small crowd of people at the beginning of the night quickly turns into a bustling scene full of college girls looking for either a good time or a quick fuck, either way, it’s still fun. Then there were the rowdy frat boys either being annoying or harassing girls at the bar, either way, they were douchebags. 
One type stood out to you though, it was a small group of guys, but they were different. You couldn’t help but notice these men, they were talking with each other at their fancy booth in the back of the club. There were 4 of them, all devilishly handsome you had to admit, but one of them shined particularly bright. You saw him frequent the bar throughout the night, until now. 
You feel a force bump into you from the side, not hard but forceful enough for you to spill a little bit of your drink on the bar. “Oh I’m sorry sweetheart are you ok” you hear from beside you, a charming voice guiding you. And there he is, your mystery man you’ve had your eye on all night. 
“Oh yeah I’m fine don’t worry about it.” You nearly yell above the loud music to him.
“Well it looks like you spilled your drink,” He says, making you look at the reminisce of your drunken reflexes failing you. 
“Don’t worry about it it’s ok” You smile at him, and in return, he looks directly into your eyes. His brown eyes caused a shift in your stomach, piercing your soul while comforting you in a delightful mix of emotions. 
“Well, I can stop worrying about it if you let me buy you a drink.” The clever way to buy a girl a drink. You sigh, “Well crap, I guess I gotta let you buy me a drink now.” You laugh out. “Why thank you,” he says, leaning over the bar and ordering sex on the beach. “Sex on the beach? how’d you know?” he looks back over at you with a smug grin strewn across his face, bewitching you even more. “I saw you ordering it when you first walked in.” Oh. So he was staring at you the whole night, interesting, I guess a smart girl’s intuition never fails. “Well thank you for noticing, Mr-” “Kiszka, but it would be best if you called me Josh.” “Well thank you very much, Josh, nice to meet you.” You smile back at him and for a moment you can feel lust piercing through you like you’ve been shot by Cupid himself. Who knew an arrow through the heart could feel so good? 
The rest of the next 40 or so minutes flew by in a hurricane of lustful glances and drunken introductions set in the brightly dimmed nightclub you found yourself in. Meeting his friends, those 4 guys you kept in mind to be specific. Their names were Jake, who just so happened to be the twin of Josh, (is it bad you’ve always dreamt of having a thing with a set of twins?) and their little brother Sam, accompanied by their friend Danny. And my god were they the epitome of beauty and grace, their suave presence somehow lighting up the dim nightclub. But then the next thing you knew, you were making out with Josh in the back alley waiting for an Uber. 
The ride back to his apartment was tense but uneventful in respect of the poor Uber driver who had probably dealt with enough drunk people tonight already. The sexual tension was overflowing from the backseat where you both resided, his hand on your thigh resting ever so gently with all the passion and care in the world. 
Then the car stopped, his hand quickly unbuckling your seatbelt for you and grabbing your hand, leading you out onto the sidewalk in front of a lavish apartment building, the ones you see celebrities come out of in staged paparazzi photo shoots. You felt his hand snake around your waist leading you into the lobby encrusted with marble and the stench of rich people wasting money because they can. Who were you about to sleep with? God only knows but you know for a fact you got lucky. 
The makeout session in the elevator was heated, so much so that you barely paid attention to the fact the elevator went straight into a hall with only 5 or 6 doors, with Josh leading you down the short hall straight into his apartment, or more so what looked like to be a penthouse. You didn’t get a great look at it though - through the lips on lips and hands and waists it was hard to pay attention to detail. 
He broke your kiss in what felt like hours, arguably the best of your life. You’re led into his bedroom quickly, He playfully drags you into the room, pushing you onto the bed. You spread your legs for him, butterflies swirl in your core. You watch as he starts to slow down, pulling his shirt over his head. He puts his knee in between your legs climbing over you on the bed. Your lips collide once more, desperate and lustful. You moan into it, quickly making work of his pants, pulling them down to his thighs. You can feel him through his boxers, already harder than ever. He slides his hand up your thigh, slowing towards the hem of your dress. He stops briefly, “Can I?” you only respond by lifting your hips and starting to pull it off, he stops you and pushes your hips back down with proximity while pulling it off, throwing it somewhere into the dark room, only lit by the moonlight shining in through the ceiling high window. 
Your body feels like it’s on fire, all you feel is warmth. Josh’s body presses up against yours again, lips and tongues intertwined making your head spiral, hell you had just met this guy an hour ago. This was way more fun than you thought you’d have tonight. A random man named Josh, his 3 best friends are hot - and you got to meet them, this guy is probably rich as fuck, and my god was he good.
He pulls away briefly losing the shorts and boxers. You can see his tip already red and leaking, he leans over you, continuing a loss you had such a brief moment ago. He reaches down underneath your hips and tears your underwear off, throwing it aside. The hold he has on your hips is strong, a sickeningly lustful feeling going straight to your head. He breaks away, “Do you want me to wear a condom?” he asks, almost breathless. “It’d be nice,” you say, catching your breath as well. He smiles and reaches over you to the nightstand grabbing one and tearing it open and putting it on swiftly. You grab his face, pulling him down to kiss you. Josh laughs through the kiss, his chuckle soon turns into a moan as he kisses down your neck. “Can I fuck you?” is all he manages to breathe out. “God, please.” you moan.
Your gut and head both turn to jelly as he enters you, not too slow, not too hard, and not too fast.
God, he’s good.
You feel the vibrations of his moan on your neck, mixed with the vibrations of yours coming from the same source. You can’t help but let it all out, moans and whimpers and all the beautiful sounds of sex fill up this room. His hips are snapping into yours, picking up the pace, brutally. He leans back, never losing stamina. Josh grips your hips, hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise. He slides up to your upper thighs, pulling them apart while he kneels in front of you, throwing the back of your knees over his shoulders, making a new angle and another powerful sensation. You feel a coil start to form in your midgut, stronger than anything before it. “Fuck, I’m close-” You’re broken off by another moan escaping you by mistake. You watch as his hips snap back into you over and over, his abs are flexing and covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He takes his thumb and rubs it right underneath your clit, right on the sweet spot that drives you insane. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a freight train at top speed. You don’t even realize how loud you moan, a headrush almost making you black out. You ride it out, soon coming to, hearing the pretty sound of Josh moaning and letting a slight whimper escape his pretty lips. “Fuck, baby-” he cuts himself off with a loud moan and the stutter of his hips. You feel the warmness in your gut fill you through the latex. He almost collapses on top of you, forearms pressed on the bed bedside. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, slowly caressing him through his post cum clarity. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you admit, and to be completely honest, it was. That had been the best, let alone the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You feel him laugh a little, his head perking up, eyes locking with yours. “Really?” he breathes out, a chuckle leaving his lips, his pretty, pretty lips. God, he was beautiful. “Yes.” You watch as his eyes, seeing the words go straight to his head. “Why thank you, baby, I’m flattered.” he gives you a quick kiss on the lips, a gentle but beautiful gesture.
He slowly pulls out of you, taking off the condom and tying a knot in it. “I’ll be right back,” he gently pats your thigh as he gets up and heads towards the bathroom. Finally, you get the chance to look around and analyze where you are. It’s still dark, the moonlight shining in was still a good enough source though. His bed lies in the middle of the room. His walls are off-white, with unique artwork that just looks expensive. Goddamn, you hit the gold mine in the crowd of the bar tonight. You suddenly hear the bathroom door open back up, looking over you see his stature in the doorway, backlight by the bathroom light. He walks over and comes back up to you with a damp washcloth. “Do you mind if I clean you up?” He asks gently, his voice so calming you couldn’t help but agree to the kind gesture. He takes the washcloth to your upper thighs, cleaning up the stickiness. Gently, with more precision than ever, he glides it over your cunt, making sure not to overstimulate, while also cleaning you well. “Thank you,” you mutter out, now suddenly a bit shy after all is said and done. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, smiling brightly at you. You watch as he throws the towel in a hamper, turns off the bathroom light, turns back around, and hops back into bed. He offers you to climb under the covers with him, to which you happily oblige.
“Thank you, Josh, this is nice,” you say, making yourself comfortable in his bedsheets. He places a hand on your cheek, leaning on his side to fully lock eyes with you. “Of course, how could I see a beautiful girl like you and not treat her well?” you laugh along with him, thanking him for his kindness. You cuddle into his arms, sleepiness suddenly washing over you. His delightful musk fills your senses, his skin is so soft and gentle. This man is just so…beautiful. And kind. And sweet. And my god you can’t remember the last time, if at all, where you have ever been this happy, especially after hooking up with a guy you met at a bar. Josh brings you in closer, his gentle love lulls you to sleep, as the world around just goes into a comfortable silence.
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