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roguelov · 7 months

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Sleepless Night

Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first

Word Count: ~ 4k

Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)

Warning: SMUT (oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), light exhibition (outside at night), voyeurism, inexperienced!Sanji)

Part 2

MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY

The late night breeze rippled across the obsidian glasslike sea. The ship, the Going Merry, was gently rocked like a baby in a cradle. The moon and stars glittered across the sky, guiding those to the land of dreams. It was a calm night, a peaceful night.

Yet, one soul was awake.

Sanji leaned his forearms on the railing, overlooking the sea staring off into the horizon. The sky and sea almost seamlessly blended together. A cigarette lazily hung from his fingertips. The salty water misted in the air, mixing with the light smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet nicotine swirled around, filling his chest. Tipping his head back, he exhaled slowly. His usually pristine suit was exchanged for sweatpants and a plain shirt. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Everything about tonight should lull a person to sleep, and have them running to be tucked nicely under the covers, yet he was wide awake.

The only one, or so he thought.

“You know those things can kill you.”

Sanji immediately smiled to himself. He laughed once, then glanced over to you. You strolled up beside him, sporting similar pajamas. Another sign you both should be asleep, you were dressed for it. You leaned your arms onto the railing, mimicking his stance.

“Is that so?” He quipped. “I’m sure a few won’t kill me before the Grand Line.”

“No,” you tilted your head in thought. “But, I might if I see you light another one.”

Sanji dipped his head, leaning in close to you. The smoke wafted off of him, a smell which always lingered around him. A smell which stirred such conflicting emotions in you. A devilish smirk danced over his lips. “Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”

You let out a bark of laughter and matched his smirk. “Definitely.”

You quickly snatched his cigarette then flicked it out into the sea. Sanji blinked, stunned for a moment. “I still had some left,” he mumbled, disappointedly. He shook his head, then smiled back at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip, “So, why are you up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep, you?”

“Same,” you sighed, leaning heavily into the railing. It was just one of those nights, your mind and body were at war with each other.

Sanji smirked, “Bet I could make you tired.”

You snorted, playing into this game of yours. “Yeah? Do you think you could keep up with me?”

“Oh! Well, look at you,” he chuckled. “I certainly will try. What do you say, love? Should we give it a go?”

This was your normal relationship with Sanji. The light teasing, the flirtatious comments; well, him more than you. Sanji’s silver tongue was far faster and sweeter than your own. Yet, you never thought it was nothing else but some simply fun.

Or you thought it was just for him.

Maybe it was because the two of you were alone, maybe it was because you knew you would probably just crawl back to your bed unable to sleep the rest of the night, maybe it was because he looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight, you wanted to push it tonight. Normally, you would have dropped it by now. You would both laugh, and pretend nothing happened. Only for these same heart pounding scenarios to happen over and over.

Yet, a voice called out: your buried desires for the cook.

You wanted to test where the boundary in the sand was drawn between the two of you. Was it only games? Was there some truth behind his words? With the rest of the crew sleeping, you had to take your chance now.

Staring unwaveringly into his dazzling blue eyes, you said, “And if I say yes? What then?”

Sanji blinked, taken back. He opened his mouth and muttered utterly confused, “Wait, what?”

Don’t turn back now.

“I said -“

“No, no, I heard you. It’s just I, uh, I didn’t really expect you to ever answer with a yes.”

You cocked your head. Sanji’s smooth, wicked tongue was failing him. This was a side you never thought you would see, let alone a side he had. His words then replayed in your head, making you question a few things. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sanji was handsome, sweet, kind, a great friend and cook. Only a fool would say no to him.

And a fool you were for a long time.

He licked his lips, glancing away. “I, uh, I don’t know -“ he fiddled with his hands, wishing desperately you didn’t toss away his cigarette - “I just never thought you would or if … if …”

His voice trailed off.

Your eyebrows knitted together. You stared more and more, watching him with confusion while he oddly retreated within himself. Under the moonlight, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. His eyes widened, actively avoiding your gaze. He fidgeted in place, picking at his nails or part of the banister.

He was so nervous, so unlike him, almost as if -

Realization finally struck you.

“Oh - oh!” You twisted around to face him directly. There was no way to beat around the bush, you just had to ask him. “Sanji, have you ever been with anyone before?”

He tensed up at your question. You hit the nail square on the head. He sighed, dropping his shoulders. Was there any real point in hiding it now? “I may or may not have been busy with the Baratie and the old man, never had much time to myself.”

“Really?”

You would have never guessed. You would have assumed he had flings almost every night with the constant stream of customers. A new love, a new interest, with every ship that came in.

“Yes,” he groaned. Shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside of him. He may talk a big game, but he had nothing to back it up.

“Hey.” You gently rested your hand on his arm. His attention dropped to your hand then up to your kind face. “I’m not judging you, I don’t care honestly. I’m just surprised because you’re just so - so … flirty? Sauve? You’re just really good with your words.”

Even if he can be a bit cheesy at times.

Sanji laughed through his nose. “I find words are easier, sweetheart.”

You smiled at him, so endearing and sweet. His heart skipped at such a loving sight. “I don’t blame you, people can be a bit more complex,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.

He smiled softly in return, then glanced away. You both looked back out towards the sea. Sanji still naturally leaned into you, seeking out your warmth and comfort. Despite it all, nothing seemed to truly change. He was still Sanji, and you were still you.

Or so it seemed.

You, on the other hand, were now utterly restless. An idea was planted inside your head. One you couldn’t quite ignore. You bit your lip, nervously.

Where is the line? And do I dare keep pushing it?

“Sanji?”

He hummed, almost absentmindedly.

“Could … could I be your first?”

“What?” He whipped his head towards you.

“We don’t have to go all the way, I thought maybe I could just …”

How could you word this? You didn’t want to be harshly blunt and possibly frighten him.

“Just to start off small, I was thinking maybe I could … suck you off?”

You winced internally. That wasn’t entirely smooth. But, like you said, Sanji was better with words than you were.

He gulped, gawking at you. His quick fire mouth silenced for once. How could he say no? Why would he say no? To be his first, it was almost like a dream. Excited nerves sparked across his growing hot skin. His heart pounded feverishly in his chest, and he licked his lips trying to find his voice again.

“Are … are you sure?” He asked in a soft dazed whisper.

You smiled. “Sanji, I don’t mind but this is about you. Do you want this?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, without needing a second thought.

He wanted this, he wanted you. He wanted you the moment he saw you, but he never thought such fantasies could become reality.

“Good,” you whispered. You slowly sank to your knees in front of him.

“Out here?” He whispered out in surprise.

“Why not? Everyone else is asleep, and we’re at the back of the ship so no one should see us.”

His body buzzed. “Are you sure?”

You glanced up at him for a moment. Nerves were written so plainly all over his face. Maybe, this is a bit too much. “Sanji, we can go inside if you want. This is about you so -“

“Out here is good.”

You blinked, shocked by his quick change. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be comfortable.”

“Yeah,” he sighed then smiled. Honestly, the place didn’t matter. He just wanted you. But, out here on the deck, oh it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “I’m sure, love.”

“Okay then,” you nodded.

You situated yourself, ensuring Sanji’s back leaned into the railing while you sat on your knees before him. Your hands skimmed up his thighs, just dipping your toe into the water. And yet, Sanji shook slightly under the simple touch.

“Relax, Sanji.”

“Sweetheart, I’m trying but - oh my god, you look so - so -“

Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.

You peered up at him with adoration. Yet, a sinful darkness swept over your features. A viper-like smile crossed over your lips. You couldn’t hold back your desires. Seeing him stuttering, so unlike his usual composed self, was absolutely thrilling. You chuckled at his rosy tinted cheeks and ears.

“What happened? You’re usually so good with your words,” you teased, running your hands up and down his thighs.

His knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t even truly done anything, but any touch left his body dizzy. He was trapped in a whirlwind of building desires. “Hard to think when you’re looking up at me like that,” he mumbled.

You hummed, smirking to yourself. “Well? Can I take these off?” You snapped the band of his sweatpants, almost making him jump.

Sanji didn’t trust his voice for once. He simply nodded.

“Wonderful,” you purred.

You carefully tugged down the sweatpants, revealing a wet spot on his boxers. You bit your lip. You hadn’t begun, and yet he was already turned on. It fueled your ego a bit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You promised.

But, you would also have your fun along the way.

You softly blew on the wet patch. Sanji’s hands grabbed the railing, holding it in a crushing white-knuckling grip. He swallowed, and groaned very softly.

How was he going to last?

You kissed directly over the patch.

Sanji shoved a fist into his mouth, forcing back an awfully loud moan.

You slowly slid down his boxers, and his cock sprung out. You shivered at the sight of it. To say the cook was packing was an understatement. You snuck a glance up at him. He looked adorable. No, appetizing. His cheeks were flushed, and a hand covered his mouth preventing any wayward sounds. He was fighting back against his own desires, but you desperately wanted the cook to lose control. You wanted to see this side of him, to see pleasure wrought into every inch of his body.

And to know you were the first made it all the more delicious.

Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. Sanji fiercely but his lip, trying to keep calm. Your thumb brushed over his red, swollen tip, gathering up precum. You gave him a few soft and teasingly slow pumps. Sanji tipped his head back, falling under your spell. His hand slid from his mouth, latching onto the railing. Your hands were far better than his own.

You then swept the flat of your tongue over his swollen tip. He bit down on his lip harshly, almost about to draw blood. His eyes squeezed so tight, losing a part of himself with every passing second.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed out.

You chuckled, mischievously. Teasing him was so easy now. His reactions were delightful, and spurred your own growing desires.

Your tongue ran up the underneath of his cock. He slapped his hand over his mouth, groaning into his palm. Then, you peppered kisses up and down. With each kiss - each sweet butterfly kiss - he became more and more vocal.

If only you could hear it so clearly.

Kissing his tip one last time, your lips finally wrapped around him and took him inch by inch. Your tongue glided along his base, tasting him and feeling the weight of him. Taking all of him, you held him in your mouth for a second before slowly pulling back. You repeated the movements, slow and steady. A teasing pace, or a way to warm him up to it.

Your eyes flickered up, eager to see all of his reactions.

His eyebrows were pinched together in pleasure. His soft pants could not be completely silenced by his hand. While, the other held firmly onto the railing. He needed stability, he needed support.

You removed your mouth completely. You reached over, gently grabbing his hand on the railing and guiding to the top of your head. “Here,” you encouraged. “You can keep your hand here, and tug on my hair if you want.”

He peered down at you like some dazzling treasure. “I - really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You laughed lightly. Your hands wrapped around his thighs. “You can’t hurt me. Besides -“ you threw him a wicked smirk - “maybe I want you to hurt me.”

Fuck.

He could have came right there.

“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he muttered in awe.

You winked, then chuckled darkly. You quickly took him in your mouth again, setting a faster pace. Your tongue swirled and grazed along him. Your fingernails dug into his thighs, eager to do all you can for him.

And dear god, you were.

Sanji was losing himself. Pleasure was filling his veins, and blood rushed in his ears. He was becoming wildly desperate for his release. His hips bucked once, unconsciously chasing his high.

You groaned, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat.

Sanji flinched, and froze in place. Has he hurt you? He grunted, forcing himself to stay still and enjoy it.

You pulled away with a pop.

Sanji nearly whined.

“Don’t hold back,” you said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind if you move your hips.”

‘You can fuck my face,’ you almost said. However, you tried your best to be a little tame.

Sanji’s heart nearly bursted. He nodded, humming in response.

“Good.” You kissed his tip, and Sanji almost fell backwards into the sea. “Because if anything was wrong, I would tell you. Now, enjoy yourself.”

Your lips wrapped around his cock. Your head bobbed up and down again. Sanji bucked his hips again. You hummed, encouraging him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was panting heavily. His head fell forward, watching you. Your lips covered in spit, wrapped so perfectly around him. It was a sight he never thought would happen. Your eyes locked with his. His hair clung to his forehead. His eyes had pooled into the sinful black, and sweat glistened along his skin.

He hasn’t looked more beautiful until now.

You hummed. He hissed then moaned softly. His lovely lips were now an incoherent mess.

He gasped, “Love, I - I -“

He choked on his words. He couldn’t form a thought, let alone a full sentence.

But, you understood. His cock twitched in your mouth. He was close. You wanted to whisper to him, to whispering loving praises in his ear. ‘Come for me, Sanji’, or ‘you’re doing so good’ but perhaps another time.

He moaned, and leaned heavily back into the railing. He could barely keep himself upright anymore. He rocked his hips, matching your pace. He tugged on your hair, drawing you closer. Your nose brushed against his abdomen with each thrust. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to use you.

You moaned, loudly.

This was all so hot.

His head fell back, mumbling your name over and over. This was heavenly. You were heavenly. This was better than he dreamt over, far better knowing you were the one doing such things.

God, he was already imagining other things. He wanted fuck you, he wanted to make love with you, he wanted to have you on the counter, he wanted to see you riding him, he wanted to try it all. He wanted to do it all with you.

“Please,” he whimpered. He wanted this to last forever, but the pleasure was too much. “Can - can I come in your mouth?”

You moaned a ‘yes’.

That was all he needed.

He came down your throat, moaning out your name. You hummed, taking it all. Sanji glanced down at you with heavy eyes. He panted loudly, gulping down air. Ever so slowly, he released his intense grip on your hair. His legs shook slightly reeling from all of this.

Peering up at him, you pulled away then opened your mouth. His cum sat on your tongue. He whimpered faintly, utterly spent and in awe. You gladly swallowed it with a devious smirk.

His reaction was priceless.

You pulled up his boxers and pants. Standing up, you patted his chest, feeling his chaotic heart race under your fingertips. A swell of pride surged through you. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked it, when he swiftly grabbed your face kissing you.

Your eyes widened, but instantly fell into him.

His tongue slipped past your lips, drawing out your wondrous sinful sounds and desires. He could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned.

Fuck, he thought.

He pushed off the railing, flipping you around. Your lower back dug into the wood, but you didn’t mind. Your hands wandered up his chest into his hair. Your fingers tangled into the blonde locks, tugging on them softly. He moaned against your lips. He nipped on your bottom lip, loving your small gasps.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips. “Please, I want to return the favor.”

His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your hips. He drew you close to him. You grinded softly against him. A small, sweet moan fell off your lips.

Sanji was greedy for more.

You had only given him a tasting, he now wanted the meal.

“I … I want to … please,” he begged again.

He was already sinking down to his knees. His fingers dug into your thighs, bunching up your sweatpants. Your heart pounded in your chest as you bit your lip. Just as he thought earlier, why would you say no? Even if he was inexperienced, you didn’t care.

“Okay, okay,” you mumbled, shakily.

His eyes twinkled with glee, like a kid in a candy store. You hastily kicked off your sweatpants, and about to remove your underwear -

“Let me.”

Sanji’s hands stopped yours. You froze then nodded, letting go. You wanted him to try and take charge, to see what he would do.

Sanji hummed. He slowly pulled down your underwear. He was entranced. His fingers delicately traced down your thighs and legs being as gentle as possible. As he brought them down, you stepped out of them. Sanji placed them with your sweatpants. Glancing back, he groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his lips.

His breath on your dripping folds made you shiver. You were immensely turned on by all of this. But, it was the hunger in his eyes that made you weak. Such hunger and want. He wanted to please you in any capacity, he wanted to be good for you.

Holy shit.

“Sanji,” you breathed out. “Can - can I -“

“Do whatever you need to, love.”

“I just want to -“ you carefully hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned backwards using the railing and Sanji for support.

He firmly grabbed your thigh, thrilled by this. He turned his head, kissing all over your thigh. Up and down, up and down, until he trail led back to where you needed him. You shivered, tipping your head back.

“Sanji,” you sighed.

“What do you need? Tell me what to do,” he purred, buzzing with excitement.

“Your tongue, your tongue, I -“

His tongue quickly swept through your folds. You groaned. His mouth latched itself onto you, swirling around. His tongue was like utter magic. You supposed you should have known from the kiss. Sanji knew how to work his tongue, he had experience in that field. All he needed was a little guidance and encouragement elsewhere.

“Higher,” you gasped. “Go higher.”

His mouth moved. His lips wrapped around your clit and you whined.

“Right there, fuck,” you hissed.

Sanji hummed.

For a brief moment, you saw stars. He sucked on your clit, feeling your thigh twitch. Sanji groaned at the thought of both of your thighs wrapped around his head.

Another time, he swore to himself.

His tongue slowly swirled around again, lapping up your juices. His movements were hesitant, yet with each of your sighs and praises he grew more and more confident. Every sound was music to his ears. Sanji pulled away. He stared up at you breathless. His chin coated in your juices. He wanted to savor this moment.

Savor you.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled. Your eyes dropped down to him. He smiled softly with such a boyish charm. “You are absolutely stunning.”

You laughed once, shaking your head. It seemed he had his silver tongue back. Sanji dived back in. His tongue parted your folds, curling around, and pushing inside of you. You moaned. Your fingers tangled into his hair.

“Fuck, Sanji,” you hummed.

Your foul mouth only encouraged him.

With his hand still on your thigh, he tugged you forward. His nose brushed against your clit. You gasped. Pleasure shot through you. You whimpered as your hips unconsciously bucked forward again.

More. You wanted more.

Your heel dug into his back, and you yanked on his hair. Sanji moaned, sending sweet loving vibrations throughout you. “Keeping going, Sanji, just like that.”

Sanji listened perfectly. He devoured you.

Fuck, he’s a natural.

Just with your gentle guidance, and your soft moans, Sanji had quickly learned your body. His tongue swept against your folds again and again. You moaned, almost pornographically. You rode his face, bucking your hips against his wondrous tongue.

You were panting as your pleasure built and built. “Fuck, Sanji, I’m about to come.”

He whined, “Oh, please, sweetheart.”

His fingers dug into your thigh. His lips wrapped around your clit, hearing your sweet sharp inhales. All your weight fell into the railing. You gasped, chanting Sanji’s name over and over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and finally let go, let pleasure consume you. You cried out his name. Sanji moaned as you came all over him. He greedily lapped up everything, not daring to waste a single drop.

He carefully pulled away, and your leg slid off his shoulder. He stood up, and cupped your face. He kissed you passionately once more. His expert tongue slid inside, making you taste him and yourself.

“Fuck,” you mumbled into the kiss.

Your knees were weak. You clung to his arms, humming into the kiss. Sanji slowly broke the kiss, enjoying your soft whines of protests. Both of you were panting, filling up the quiet still night.

Sanji chuckled once. “So? How did I do, sweetheart? Tired yet?”

You may have created a monster.

You blinked, then shook your head. You smirked, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, unless you’re tired.”

He wrapped an arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”

I want to keep going, I want to have it all, he thought. Besides, what meal isn’t better without some dessert?

#one piece #one piece live action #Opla #sanji vinsmoke #opla sanji #opla x reader #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #smut #afab!reader

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crvptidgf · 10 days

Text

Don’t Tell Your Brother

Rafe Cameron x Reader

➸ summary: you’re sick of keeping your relationship a secret, but rafe isn’t so sure about outing it yet

➸ warnings/notes: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, reader is fem

word count: 1.3k

————————

IF THERE WAS one thing Rafe was good at it was keeping secrets. Whether it be for his father, Barry - or even sometimes Wheezie. He was a master at it, which is probably why he found this arrangement so easy.

It wasn’t that he liked keeping you hidden. It was more that it was necessary. Your brother wouldn’t take too kindly to the kook prince “corrupting” his only sister. Plus, a part of him kind of loved sneaking around and having you all to himself (something he would never openly admit to).

Rafe listened to your heavy breathing as he brushed his fingertips across your shoulder blade. Before he met you he would’ve never been caught dead cuddling with anyone; but that was what he liked about you. You pushed his boundaries (within reason) and forced him to see new perspectives. To become better.

Lifting your flushed face to meet his, you decided to break the silence. “Rafe?”

He shifted his gaze from the ceiling to your expectant eyes. He could never get enough of how you looked in bed with him, your hair wild and your eyes glazed over as your spent body curled into his. You were breathtaking.

“Hm?” he responded.

“Will it always be like this?”

Rafe took in your glistening skin and furrowed brows. If you hadn’t been asking him a question he probably would’ve occupied his mind with counting every mark and blemish on your face instead of listening.

“Like what?” he finally asked. He already knew where this was going. Sometimes he just liked to prolong the inevitable by acting clueless - because occasionally you would give up and switch the conversation to something more lighthearted.

“Rafe,” you groaned. “I mean all this pretending we’re doing. I hate acting like I hate you in front of John B.”

Your boyfriend sighed, dejection taking over his once calm features. When you first met him you never ever thought you could be the source of his peace, much less the one to turn him into a ball of domestic mush.

“Baby,” he started to say.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. You’re not getting out of this one so fast,” you quickly interrupted, already knowing his tricks to try and distract you.

Rafe merely rolled his eyes as his hand lowered to squeeze your waist. “Okay, okay.”

Another sigh.

“What are you in such a rush for, anyway?” he asked, his ringed digits coming to rub at the buzzed hair on his scalp. “You were the one who wanted us to keep this from them.”

You rested your head in your palm now, elbow digging into Rafe’s impossibly soft mattress. He had offered to buy you one for your room after you complained about how much comfier his bed was - but ultimately you had to refuse. There would be too many lingering questions about how you could afford such a luxury.

Truthfully that was one of the hardest things Rafe had to grapple with. He couldn’t spoil you like he wanted to without causing alarm bells to sound in all of the pogue’s minds.

“I know. And you were the one who was against it. Why’re you so adamant on the secrecy now?”

A small glint sparkled in his eye.

“You don’t think it’s hot?”

It was your turn to sigh and roll your eyes. This man always found a way to make things dirty, even when the situation was far from it. “Are you really this horny after all that?” you asked, referring to the several exhaustive minutes you guys just spent in too many positions to count.

“What?” he queried, feigning innocence. “You don’t think all the fake hate act is hot? I like seeing you get all riled up knowing that I’m still the only one who gets to take you home that night.”

Goddamnit he was good at distracting you.

“Rafe,” you all but whined as you dropped your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m serious.”

Hands caressed the back of your head, petting your unruly hair down. “So am I.”

Your hand rested on his naked chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. There was something so relaxing and homely about this. Both of you entangled in each other under Rafe’s sheets, your hands roaming over every body part you could reach, your breaths harmonizing into one. If only this was a common occurrence - not just in the confines of his bedroom at 1 in the morning.

“You’re thinking again,” stated the man bluntly. “Don’t.”

“I should get back soon.”

Sitting up you began to look around the room, attempting to find any of your discarded items and clothes. If you left now you could still get some sleep before everybody back at home woke up.

“C’mon don’t be like that,” Rafe said as he grabbed your wrist.

You shook your head in disbelief. “Be like what? If you want this charade to keep going I have to get home.”

“Just tell them you were with-“

“With who, Rafe? Who can I force to lie for me this time?”

You knew it was unfair to get mad at him, but you just wanted to be able to stay at your boyfriend’s house without stress for once. This was getting tiring and you didn’t understand how Rafe couldn’t see it.

Pulling your underwear up your legs you moved to stand up. “I know it was my idea in the first place - but I didn’t think we’d keep it going for so long.”

Your boyfriend only watched as you paced around, grabbing your bra and t-shirt off the floor. “And anyway it’s none of anyone’s business who I date. I don’t know why I cared to start with,” you mumbled.

He knew you were frustrated. Sometimes he felt that way too, but seeing how many things you and your brother had to worry about back at the Chateau, he didn’t wanna add to it by exposing your ongoing relationship so soon.

“Hey listen,” he said, trying to gain your attention.

When you didn’t so much as spare a glance at him, he rubbed his eyes in annoyance. So stubborn.

“Babe, listen. C’mere.”

Still nothing.

Standing up from the bed, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder. It was a shockingly common occurrence. You would ignore him during an argument or disagreement and he would get sick of it and carry you to bed where he’d force you to talk it out. He insisted that he hated when you ‘sulked’.

“Rafe! Put me down!”

You landed on the bed with a bounce, your shirt half on your body and your bra still clutched in your hand. Rafe grabbed it and threw it off the bed.

His hands were at either side of your head. In any other situation you’d have started jumping his bones. These thoughts left your mind as Rafe’s next words left his mouth.

“We can tell them - if you promise to let me help you with the rent this month.”

Of course he would have some sort of stupid bargain for this agreement.

“No I can’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

He could tell you were thinking about it, weighing your options. If he could pay for this, maybe John B wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass when the eventual news came out. Perhaps he’d see how serious Rafe was about you.

Well, also, he just liked to spoil you.

You groaned. “Fine.”

With a kiss on the lips, the deal was sealed. “But only for that month, right?” you asked in between the final kiss.

Rafe nodded, letting you believe you were in control of this. What he didn’t clue you in on, however, is that he fully planned for you to move in with him after your next due date was paid. He figured he could let the surprise wait.

“Yes. But for now lemme just have you to myself,” he muttered against your collarbone.

Maybe getting home could wait for now.

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princessbrunette · 11 days

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thinking about calling pogue!rafe over because your hot water isn’t working and he’s acting all annoyed but he’s lowkey kicking his feet at the fact that he gets to be in your home. maybe even asking him to stay after your shower so you can cook him something as a reward and play house for a bit 🩷🩷🩷

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

my favourite thing about pogue!rafe is that he acts soooo inconvenienced by your presence. he hates kooks, think they’re so stuck up — so he can’t help but feel to push you away. always referring to you as a ‘stuck up little girl’ whilst he’s only a couple of years older than you. he’d done some work on the house before, and whilst your parents are away you literally don’t know who to call to fix your hot water problem so you try him, pacing around your room.

at first during your call, he tells you he’s got a shit tonne of work to be doing on other houses and doesn’t have time to drop everything for a kook princess. he can practically see your little pout through the phone, but keeps up his attitude until you thank him for his time anyway, sadly throwing out a little “no, i understand it’s okay. i’ll probably just hit up that jj maybank. i heard he’s pretty handy.” and suddenly he’s changed his tune, physically sitting up from his slouched position to be all “shit, okay fine… fine. i’ll be there in twenty minutes just — just don’t call anyone else a’ight?”

he’s sulking when he turns up with his tool box and that muscle tank and shorts with paint and dirt on them — unable to stop sucking on your bottom lip because he’s just so big and strong. he’s ignoring your lustful gaze with everything in him as he walks through to your bathroom. “lets just get this out the way, yeah?” he drawls as he gets to work.

you sit on the sink and swing your legs, not leaving him alone as he works simply chatting his ear off, seemingly unphased by his blunt replies, finding creative ways to shut you down like reminding you “yeah, uh you’re my little sisters age.” however you seemed totally unscathed, only working harder to prove you’re grown enough to take him.

“should be workin’ fine now so uh… just wire me the money n’we’ll be good. doin’ overtime right now so i kinda just wanna go home.” he waves you off and you step infront of him.

“you’re finished working?”

“di’nt i just say that kid?” he drawls and you grin, dragging him to your lounge.

“perfect! look i really wanna thank you specially for bein’ so helpful to me even though it’s clear you don’t want to. let me cook you dinner. please? i got beer and uh… i’ll make it really good. oh please rafe, my parents are away and i’m all alone.”

he sighs like it tortures his whole being, but he couldn’t deny that your house was super nice — nicer to hang out in than his shitty little fishing shack that he calls a home. he’d heard the cops had been sniffing around for him wanting to talk about a little ‘altercation’ he recently wound up in and didn’t have the energy to deal with that. no one would suspect him in the kook princess headquarters.

he cracks open a beer and lounges on your couch watching tv as you prepare the food for him before sticking everything in the oven and heading upstairs to shower. he doesn’t notice your presence disappear until you’ve returned in the tiniest little night gown and damp hair, leading him to the dining room where you serve up his food.

“some real housewife shit, huh?” he can’t hold back his smile as you seat him infront of a hearty meal. you feel all warm at the implication, shrugging modestly.

it’s inevitable that you wind up in his lap after he’s eaten, having sat with him and flirted — leaning over the table with your tits practically spilling out. you can’t quite recall how you got there, in between telling him you had nothing on under the nightgown and him telling you that it wasn’t his fault that men had primal instincts or some shit like that — but soon he was pulling your dress up to your waist and stuffing himself inside you, roughly fucking up into you.

“oww, rafey!” you whine at how rough he’s being with you, not used to being treated like anything but a princess. he can tell it’s an act though, and you truly do love it from the way your walls contract around him.

“nah, nah you knew what you were doin’ inviting me here. what were — were you just sittin’ around with a fuckin’ wet pussy waitin’ on your moment to invite me round n’let you fuck on me? huh? that was this is?” he bucks his hips, holding onto you to completely take control from below, bashing you against the table with each thrust that was certain to leave bruises.

you whimper, pressing your body to his trying to win over some affection as you sniffle. “just got such a crush on you, rafe.” you mewl and he scoffs, taking that moment to pick you up in his lap and place you on the dining room table instead, gaining more control so he could keep rutting into you.

“sick’a you little kook girls tryn’a — tryn’a use me like im some little experiment that you can toss to the side afterwards.” he complains, gripping your hips and practically using you like a toy. if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be completely limp.

“dont want you with other girls! not — not gonna get rid of you i just want you.” you defend, and finally he slows his punishing pace to catch his breath, staring down at you analytically with parted lips, dick twitching inside you at the confession.

“that right?” he deadpans and you nod, teary eyed. “that why you let me in this princess cunt raw? huh? no protection or nothin’? just… just hoping i pull out? ha…” he chuckles maliciously, starting to push in deeper once more, upping his pace just a tad. “yeah… yeah maybe i should nut right in here—” he caresses your lower tummy making you whimper, completely at his mercy with your legs split. “knock up some kook pussy. won’t just be a phase then will i? nah baby… nah you’d be stuck with me for life.”

he’s got a sick smile on his face, but what he’s not expecting is for you to grip the back of his neck, your bottom lip wobbling with a serious look in your eyes. “do it.” you command and his face drops a little, realising that maybe he was dealing with a girl that had it bad for him. that, or you’re trying to get some sort of revenge on your parents. either option made his dick throb.

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #pogue!rafe

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sweetnergirl · 1 month

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No bc like… just imagine plug!connie and you being his bsf sister.

“S-stoppp…CONNIE PLZZZ!!”you cried out in the most whiniest voice you’ve ever made

“Shhh, baby you non’t want you’re brother to here how much of a slut you’re being for his best friend.” He rasped in your ear as his fingers moved in and out of you as he curled them on that spot that he knows make you crumble under him. “B-b-baby plz, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that”, you said as tears that you were holding finally came sliding down the sides of your face.

“Aww you gonna cum, come on. Go ahead come for me”. Connie whispered in your ear then sat up on his hind legs and smirked(his bottom diamond grills shining) as he watched that chubby tummy of your’s that he loved so much(the reader also has a hello kitty belly piercing), quiver as he watched you fall apart. You couldn’t take it as his fingers continued to move and his thumb rubbed that swollen little nub of yours…So you tried to push is hand away by grabbing his wrist. “Nahh this what you wanted right mamas, what happen to you being all big and bad when you was teasing me wit them lil as shorts tryna show off to my friend” he stated in a firm and slightly aggressive tone while never slowing down.

Though you could only respond with a string of whiny and pornographic moans from him just playing with your pussy like it was nothing. You knew exactly what he was referring to, you didn’t know ony was going to have company over you had just woken up from a nap and taken a shower by then throwing on a plain cropped wife beater w/hello kitty shorts that you’ve had since you were nine and yea they had gotten shorter and tighter over the years… But HEY! They still fit. You walked out of your room welcomed by the strong smell of weed and the three boys in the living room smoking(Eren, Connie and ony).

While Connie’s eyes stayed on you roaming up and down your body as if he could eat you along w/the stare of Eren Yeager. “Aye y/n, look at you all grown up it’s been too long we should hang out together just like old time’s” Eren tells you while also eyeing you. “Nah she’s still annoying, the only reason she used to hang out w/ is because she would beg me to and if I say no she would be a little snitch”. Ony complains as I roll my eyes and strolled to the kitchen. “Yeah but she cool now right y/n?”Eren asked taking a puff of the jay and Turing his head to look at me in the kitchen eating a fruit roll up, “yepp I’m cool now… right Connie?” I questioned as I walked over the the side of the sofa Eren was sitting on and taking the jay from his hand then taking a puff. “Earth to con, you good bro”,ony asked while waving a hand in his face. “Yeah I’m good just, just thinking”.

As time went on me and Eren just talked while ony and con did they’re thing but even then I noticed Connie staring the whole time with dark eyes filled w/lust and irritation rolling his eyes any time i laughed at ren’s jokes or touch his arm or me showing him my fresh nail set when he asked.

By the end of the night I was high out of my mind from all the smoking and decided it was time for me to go back in my room and probably go back to sleep, which is when Connie shows up in my room during the middle of the night confronting me about whatever he called “the situation” which was just me catching up w/ an old friend. It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.

“Shut the fuck up I’m sick of hearing you mouth, matter of a fact turn that ass around im bout to tear that ass up”.

THIS WAS MY FIRST POST SO GO EASY ON ME AND GIVE POSITIVE FEEDBACK.

#connie x black reader #plug!connie #eren jaeger #black reader #chubby #aot x black reader #chubby reader

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roses-r-rosie3 · 4 months

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X-Mas list presentation

Batfam x M!Reader

Summary: instead of making a regular Christmas wishlist, the reader decides to make a whole presentation

Quote: “That is all Family! So open up your hearts and your wallets for me this holiday season”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Why are you here?” Duke asked Jason.

“Same reason why you’re here, y/n wanted us to all meet up in the living room for some announcement” Jason sighed.

After everyone was in the room, you pulled out your computer and connected it to the Tv, which made everyone confused.

“Hello family, I know you must be wondering why you’re all here” you said.

“Yes”

“Yup”

“Mhm”

“Yeah”

“Can I go back to my game now?”

“Last year you guys totally fucked up Christmas, so this year I put together an entire presentation to tell you guys what I want specifically” you smiled.

Everyone in the room let out an audible sigh/groan. It was known by everyone in the family that you were very dramatic from time to time (24/7). But they never thought you would get this extra!

“Is that really what you called us here for?” Damian grumbled.

“Would you shut up for a second?” You snapped.

“Y/n I don’t think that’s how you should be talking to your little bro-”

“Anyways, Here’s the things you should keep in mind when you’re thinking about what kind of gift you will provide for me this year” you said as you interrupted Bruce from his lecture.

“First of all, I’m the only one who knows how to reset the Wi-Fi, and yeah that’s threat” you threatened.

That certainly got everyone’s attention.

“Secondly, if you don’t get me what I want I will get a sugar daddy, I don’t even care what you guys are going to say, I’ve had so many offers for sugar daddies that it’s unreal. The perks of being son of Bruce Wayne I guess” you said.

“Y/n, you do know that Bruce is rich right?” Jason asked.

“Not the point” you mumbled.

“And third if I don’t get what I want, I will also sell my feet pics online like I did last year” you said calmly.

“YOU WHAT?!” Bruce shouted

“Calm down, I only ended up making about 1 million from it” you sighed.

“ONLY?!” Dick gasped.

“I created a three tier system of different gifting levels, basically, the levels equivocate to how much you love me and how much money you have” you explained.

“Level one is the ‘I’m going to need therapy level’ which is only four to seven gifts. I would probably go into a depressive spiral, actually not probably, I definitely would be depressed” you said.

“Would you stop being so overdramati-”

“I’M NOT DONE YET” you said as you interrupted Tim.

“What would that mean for us? You may ask. It would mean that you would have to pay for my therapy. And the money that you guys spent on therapy would have been basically wasted, you could’ve bought me a whole bunch of gifts right now and avoided the situation” you smiled.

“I think that he’s lost his mind” Bruce whispered to Stephanie.

“You think?!” Stephanie whisper yelled.

“Level two is the ‘You’re getting warmer package’ This basically if you love me- Bruce can you stop whispering to Stephanie” you scolded.

“As I was saying… Level two is eight to fifteen gifts, which is basically equivalent to you texting me happy birthday” you continued.

“Level three is the ‘You’re sleighing it’ level. And if you remember, you guys were just a bit off the mark of hitting this because you guys only got me twenty three gifts. And in order to reach ‘You’re slaying it’ you have to get me twenty five or more gifts, I think this is totally do-able for you guys, especially because you can just use Bruce’s card if you guys are running low on money” you said.

“I have tons ideas for you guys and this whole slideshow is already in your email so you guys can look at it and reference it at any time” you smiled.

Everyone quickly checked their phones to see that you indeed emailed them your whole presentation.

“That is all Family! So open up your hearts and your wallets for me this holiday season” you smiled before leaving the room.

“Yeah he had definitely lost his mind” They all said in synchronization.

“I HEARD THAT!”

#male reader #batfamily #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam x you #Batfam x batbro #batfam x y/n #batfam x male reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x male reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #rosesrrosie3 #holiday special

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queenimmadolla · 3 months

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𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

“Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

“Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

“It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

“Branzino.”

“It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already.

Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion.

He was so proud and in love.

You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

“She was stretching.” He correctly deduced.

“Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

“Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

“Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

“No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

“Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

“Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

“I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

“And since she’s craving it─”

“She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

“You read it in a book, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Ask your doctor about it?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

“Branzino in the middle of winter.”

“It’s what she wants!”

“It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye.

“Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

“You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you.

That damn fish was so worth it.

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hs-is-loml · 1 year

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The Way I Love You. (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: xavier and you are weird pair of "best friends" always reaching towards something more, but neither having the guts to talk about it so plainly, until now.

Warnings: best friends to lovers trope, enid and yoko being done with both of you, major fluff, doesn't follow exact storyline or timeline

a/n: exams in a couple days are destroying me, so this is probably the only thing i'll post for the next week sadly:(

masterlist

“Hey, babe? Are you almost done? If not I’m heading to breakfast without you,” Xavier yelled through the door as you stumbled to finish getting ready.

“I won’t be done in time, I’ll meet you in the quad,” you shouted back realizing how late you were actually running. “Can you get me juice please!”

“Okay, I’ll see you down there,” he replied back.

Enid just stared at you with the widest eyes and a dropped jaw. You turned away from her gaze as it freaked you out a bit. “HE CALLED YOU BABE?!”

“Huh?”

“I think Enid is referring to the fact you and Xavier are repulsive,” Wednesday explained.

“I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU GUYS AREN’T DATING?!” Enid kept yelling rushing over to you and helping get your bag so you three could leave the dorm soon. “YOU CAN’T KEEP HIM WAITING!!”

“Enid! Slow down!” she threw your blazer in your arms and pushed you out of the dorm as Wednesday followed beside both of you. “What are you even going on about?”

“Xavier.”

“Yeah, what about him?” you asked confused not understanding why she was making such a big deal over something.

“I can’t believe you two are dating!” Enid cheered excitedly as you walked down the halls.

“Enid, wait for a second,” you halted in your tracks and took a second to comprehend the girl’s words. “We’re not dating.”

“What,” Enid said dishearteningly. “I thought since he called you-”

“You thought wrong, we’re just best friends,” you cut her off as you three made the quad.

“I did not know best friends had pet names for each other,” Wednesday stated. "Odd."

“Because they’re in love with each other and won’t admit it,” Enid whined while you look around for Xavier.

You felt an arm drape around your shoulders and saw a hand holding out a bottle of orange juice in front of you, in which taking it happily and opening it to take a sip. “Won’t admit what?”

“Nothing!” you choked out, glaring at Enid hoping she would get the hint to stop.

“Just that-” She didn’t.

“Enid, let’s head to class, I rather pick out my eyes than watch this,” Wednesday said to Enid.

“Oh, okay, umm… Bye, Y/n! Bye, Xavier?” Enid called out as she trailed behind Wednesday as they headed to Ms. Thornhill’s class.

“Bye, Enid,” you both tell her.

“What was she going on about?” Xavier asked while you both headed to fencing.

“Just the usual things Enid loves to talk about,” you replied. “Gossip.”

“Of course,” he puffed out a laugh. “Who’s the poor souls?”

“Just a pair of friends that she thinks are dating,” you tried to say inconspicuously when you made it the locker rooms.

“Enid has pretty good intuition with that kind of stuff, I wonder if they are?”

“Trust me, they’re not,” you gave him a small smile. “Wait for me?”

“Always.”

You walked out of locker rooms tying your hair out of your face, and saw Xavier waiting to the side with his mask already on. He held his own foil (sword) in one hand while the other held an extra foil and mask.

“M’lady,” he teasingly bowed handing you them as you approached him.

“Why, thank you, kind Sir,” you curtsied back letting out a small giggle.

“You’re paired with Yoko, this morning,” he told you making your way to the mats.

“Maybe if you whined less and praticed more, you wouldn’t suck,” you heard Bianca mocked Rowan as you and Xavier got closer to the class. “Seriously, Coach, when am I gonna get real competition? Anyone else want to challenge me?”

“I will,” you stated removing yourself from Xavier’s side and slid the mask over your face.

“Are you sure? I don’t think Xavier would want his sweet Y/n to get hurt,” she gave you pout which only encouraged you more to beat her.

“You sure do talk so much shit,” you replied to her and heard ‘ooh’s…’ around the room. “It kind of match’s your skill, don't you think?”

“Rowan doesn’t need you to come to his defense. He’s not helpless,” Bianca snarked. “He’s just lazy.”

“Are we going to do this or not? Or are you too scared?” getting yourself in a stance ready to go against her.

“Fine.”

“En garde!” someone called out.

Swords clashed and Bianca made the mistake of lifting her arm too high in an attempt to strike you, so you lowered yourself avoiding her sword while you were able to strike her side.

“Point to Y/n!”

You both continued to duel, as the crowd around you guys grew. Bianca wasn’t able to tag you yet as you picked up the speed of your hits against her. So much anger at her for how she treated everyone at the school, and how she believed that she was automatically better than everyone else. The force of your strikes against her caught her off guard and her sword swayed to the left allowing you to tag her directly in her chest.

“That’s my girl!” you heard Xavier call out from the sidelines and you were thankful you had the mask still on so no one would be able to see the blush on your cheeks.

“Winner, Y/n,” the coach announced and Bianca stalked off in anger.

You walked over to Xavier, and took off your mask in a swift motion as you noticed some time during the match against Bianca he had taken his off to see you better. He held out his arms for you and brought you in a tight hug. “I’m proud of you,” he murmured into your hair as you leaned your head against his chest.

“Thank you, Xav,” you lifted your head to give him a smile which returned his wide one. You stood on your tip toes, pecking his cheek and stood back allowing you to see the blush that spread across his face. “I’ll see you after!” you told him as Yoko called you over from the other side of the room.

“Wait-“ Xavier was too late to respond as you hurriedly rushed to Yoko who seemed like she was going to burst from the questions she had for you.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” Yoko yelled which caught the attention of many of those around you including Xavier who was still staring at you from across the room.

“Yoko, shh! I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you shushed the girl.

“Don’t know,” she mockingly laughed, “He called you his girl!” she pointed out.

“SHHHH!” you held a hand over her mouth in order to stop her from saying anything else. “NOT ANOTHER WORD.”

“Babe, you okay?” Xavier asked loudly from where he stood and a part of you was silently cursing him while the other part blushed profusely.

“Just peachy,” you uttered, glaring at Yoko who was dying of laughter at the hypocrisy of you two. You dragged her away to a more closed-off area to allow her to question you, but the bell saved you from the interrogation.

“Okay, that’s now Enid and Yoko acting weird around you. That only ever means one thing…” Xavier pointed out once you both were walking to his dorm for lunch after attending fencing and botany.

Let’s just say Botany might have been even more irritating than fencing because you had Bianca staring at you the whole time after she saw you and Xavier walk into class together. The only problem with you and him walking in together was that he had his arm around your waist keeping you steady as you died of laughter over hearing Ajax complaining that he stoned himself the other day which led him to miss his date with Enid. You felt bad for laughing, but Ajax resembled a kicked puppy too much not to.

“One thing what?”

“There’s a guy,” he scoffed.

“Where?” you looked around to see no one around you both, so you gave a look of confusion not really understanding what he was insinuating.

“Are you talking to somebody?” Xavier questioned. “Enid and Yoko only ever get that giddy if they’re talking about a guy, and if you are I don’t know why you didn’t feel the need to tell. Y/n, we’re— w-we’re… you know.”

“Xavier!” you tried to interrupt, but he ignored you as he continued to talk.

“I thought you felt the same way, but obviously not since you felt like you hide the fact you’re with someone right now. I just wish you told me before Enid and Yoko,” he rambled on looking down at the floor with a scrunched expression covering his face.

“XAVIER!” you exclaimed.

“What?’ he softened looking back to you.

“I’m talking to you aren’t I?” you tried to hint at him.

“Well, obviously you’re talking to me right now but I meant-”

“Xav, I am talking to you,” you restated once more. “No one else.”

“But-” you knew he was going to argue with what you were saying but you weren’t going to allow it.

“Enid and Yoko were talking about us,” you explained nonchalantly letting yourself into his dorm with him following behind you, shutting the door.

“Wait what?” he took a step back allowing himself to process what you said. “What do you mean they were talking about us?”

“They were teasing about how we are with each other.” you looked down on your hand as you turned to face him.

“And how are we with each other?” he retorted back in question, walking closer to you.

“We both won’t admit it…” you trailed off as you felt heat rush to your cheeks as you tried to avoid his gaze. “But-”

“Admit what? That fact I’ve been in love with you since we met,” he noted. “I have loved you since I saw you wandering around the halls looking for your class, I love you every day when we meet in the morning to walk to class together, I love when you scrunch your nose when you're overthinking, I love the sound of your laugh when I tell a stupid joke that’s not even worth your laughter, I love that you hold my hand when you're anxious, I love you more than anything,” he confessed to you which brought you close to tears as you went to close the space between you and him.

You grabbed the collar of his uniform to help bring him down closer to your height and smash your lips against his, moving your hands to have one the back of his neck and the other on his cheek. He immediately responded to the kiss with the same amount of urgency. His hands landed onto your hips pulling you even more closer to him.

It was a messy kiss but seemed perfect for you and him. Both of you pulled back to take in a breath of air, leaning your foreheads against one another. “I love you. I will never love someone the way I love you,” you whispered to him seeing a smile spread across his face as he went to pull you back in for another kiss.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #netflix #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe angst #bianca barclay #fanfic #fluff #best friends to lovers #fanfic trope #enid sinclair

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cranberrymoons · 5 months

Text

under the mistletoe

prompt: idiots to lovers (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: m word count: 957 words tags: getting together, making out, mild cw for a little bit of outdated language about bisexuality (referring to steve as "part gay")

welcome to Day 8 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

“Like, you hear how fucking stupid that sounds, don’t you?”

Steve shuts the cash drawer with his hip. “It’s not stupid, it’s just –” He folds his arms over his chest. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Robin narrows her eyes. “What, because I’m just so inexperienced?”

“No, because we’re –” He lets out a frustrated breath. “We’re guys. We’re both guys, there’s nothing going on there.”

Her eyebrows disappear into her bangs, and she opens her mouth, and he holds up his hands.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly. “Just – we’re friends. That’s it.”

“Making out with him while you’re drunk at a party is the opposite of nothing going on.” She shakes him, gripping his arm tight enough that it actually hurts a little. “Oh my god.”

“I told you, it’s not that big of a deal,” he says. “You weren’t even there. It was like, a joke kiss. It was nothing.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Did you or did you not stick your tongue down his throat?”

He feels his face heat immediately. “Yeah, but there was like – mistletoe and shit, you’ve got to –”

“God, and look at you.” She lets him go in favor of sweeping the rest of the returns into the bin to be dealt with in the morning. “You actually like him.”

“I don’t,” Steve says. Then, “I mean – he’s Eddie! He’s our friend, of course I like him.”

She rolls her eyes, shoving the rest of her things into her bag and hiking it up on her shoulder.

“Whatever, dude,” she says. “I swear to god, if you don’t make out with him for real by Christmas, I’m going to do it for you.”

He makes a face. “Please don’t.”

---

It’s a week later when they talk about it again.

He’s the one who actually brings it up this time, because everyone’s over at his house for a movie night, and Steve catches Robin in the kitchen, wraps his hand around her wrist and drags her closer to duck their heads together while everyone else carries snacks into the living room.

“Okay, did you see that?”

She widens her eyes. “By that , do you mean the fact that he just touched your actual ass?” she asks. “Yeah, Steve. I saw it.”

He motions for her to keep it down, darting a look at the doorway to make sure no one’s listening.

“He didn’t touch my ass, it was more like –” He motions behind himself, touching the spot where Eddie’s hand had rested, just for a minute. “Like my back. Right here. Right?”

She shakes her head, giving him a look like she can’t believe he’s not getting it. Which, fair enough. He’d probably be doing the same if things were flipped, but they’re not , and –

“It was here,” she says, reaching around to touch him, hand sliding down until he jerks away.

“Don’t touch my ass.”

She gives him a look. “See?”

He stares at her for a beat, taking a measured breath as he turns it over in his head.

“What do I do about it?”

She makes a face. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “You’re gay, aren’t you?”

“So are you, apparently,” she says. “At least partially, if you want Eddie Munson to touch your ass again.”

He motions again for her to be quiet, casting another desperate look in the direction of the living room.

“Come on,” he hisses. “Just – what do I do?”

She sighs. “Kiss him again,” she says. “And not a joke this time.” She picks up her bowl of popcorn and narrows her eyes at him. “And then pay me a thousand dollars for being right.”

---

And he does. Well – not the thousand dollars, but –

A few nights later, it’s just the two of them, him on the couch in Eddie’s new apartment with Eddie’s lips trailing a searing line up his throat as he arches off the cushions and presses himself closer, hands shaking as he pushes them back through Eddie’s hair.

He gasps, angling Eddie’s head so he can lick into his mouth, and he loses himself in the kiss for a moment, in the way Eddie’s hands drag over his skin, in the warm glow of the TV playing in the background. But it’s something twinkly and holiday-y, and it jogs Steve’s memory enough that he sucks in a breath, pulling away to speak, holding Eddie back gently when he chases after his mouth.

“Just –” He gets drawn into another kiss, eyes fluttering shut. “One thing.”

Eddie hums, grazing light fingers up his side. “What could possibly be more important than this?”

“Nothing, just…” Eddie rolls his hips down, and it makes Steve’s breath stutter in his chest, gasping as he feels the hard line of Eddie settle against him. “Just –” Another kiss. And another. And – “Just don’t tell Robin until next week. After Christmas.”

This actually does cause Eddie to pull away, and he lets out a confused laugh.

His lips are swollen and slick, and his hair is mussed up from Steve’s fingers, and Steve can’t help but drag him back down, groaning into the kiss as he gets lost again. After a moment, Eddie pulls away to ask, staying close enough that their lips brush together when he speaks.

“Do I even want to know why?”

“No,” Steve says. He drags his teeth over Eddie’s bottom lip. “Just – she was right about something. Can’t let her win, though. She wants a thousand bucks. I’m not sure.”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head before dipping further down to bite at Steve’s jaw.

“You two are so weird.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic #robin buckley #stobin

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kisses4kaia · 4 months

Note

MORE BROTHERS BEST FRIEND BILLY THE KID I BEG OF YOU

GIBSON GIRL .ᐟ

pairing— brothersbestfriend!william h. bonney x fem!reader

warnings— smut, forbidden relationship, p in v, oral (m and f receiving) EVERYONE IS LEGAL!!

a/n— this took an absurd amount of time sorry! she’s here now tho so plz reblog if u enjoyed! (also not a part two to the first one 🤍)

“billy, make sure she’s safe while i’m gone, will you?” jesse asks his best friend in reference to you, his innocent, sweet, little sister. and naturally, without any hesitation, billy nods. “of course, always,”

there’s something about his tone when he says it, something that hints that his opinion of you isn’t entirely fraternal, but perhaps something more profound. jesse doesn’t catch onto that, though; never having been the brightest tool in the shed.

almost ignorantly, he just nods at billy in respectful acknowledgment, kisses you on the cheek, all before leaving the house, heading into town for whatever errands needed running, leaving you and billy alone for many unsupervised hours.

god, the tension between the pair of you was palpable—thicker than molasses and sweeter than it, too. to make matters worse for the outlaw, recently, you took up a new hobby—making billy squirm. making innuendos just barely passable as innocent banter, being on your best behavior and letting him know you were like this just for him, then going and turning it around completely, becoming a complete and total brat, not heeding to mind a single word he speaks.

and fuck, it was driving him insane. he felt so ashamed of himself on nights when all his mind could conjure up before bed was images of you—images the lord would frown upon sincerely—and end up with a cum-splotched torso and a still unsatiated cock. he hated you for it.

you, with your too-tight denim shorts in july, and with your ribbons in your pigtail plaits, and your sweet, soft, wickedly tantalizing, eyes and even more venomous voice. everything about you drove him mad, and it was the very nature of your relationship that irked him the most—because, he knew, as desperately as he wanted, he could not have you. you were his best friends little sister, for christ’s sake! it was never bound to end well for him. honestly, he felt like the fates had fucked him.

so now, when you are in your bed, reading a romance novel you’ve already read twice, something outside of your window catches your eye. billy is currently out on the farm with the horses, tending to them. not an uncommon sight, however since it’s august, and this is the midwest, and it is hot—almost naturally—billy has abandoned his linen, button-up, shirt and is wearing nothing but a dirt-stained wifebeater, his trousers, and gun holster—and of course, his cowboy hat. you bite your lip at the display, sure this must be a product of one of your many erotic dreams about your brothers best friend, but all of that is debunked when he looks up at you, his catching the way your bottom lip is folded behind your teeth and your lingering gaze is burning onto his toned arms—probably a result of workin so hard as a farmhand and cowboy his whole life, you reckon—and meeting your piercing gaze.

you decide to push yourself off of your pretty, bowed, sheets and make your way downstairs to the trouble that lies within the man you grew up right next to.

“you know, it’s rude to stare,” billy chimes while you sit on an old, rackety, rocking chair residing on the back porch of your house, watching billy on the ranch. “and you think i’m above being rude?” you cock your head slightly, almost challenging him but not quite. he rolls his eyes, obviously wanting to snap back but can’t find it in him, not when you’re looking at him like that.

soon, he’s done with the work needed to have been done (admittedly, he did make haste so as to keep you waiting on him), and he’s grabbing his shirt off the pole of the wooden fence that is caging the horses in, tying the sleeves around his waist. he doesn’t spare you a single glance as he walks into the home, but you know he’s silently beckoning you to trail after him—after all, you were only out here to ogle at him, weren’t you?

when you enter the threshold of your home, your eyes land upon billy, who is pouring himself a glass of cheap whiskey and plopping down onto your couch.

“c’mon, sit down,” billy offers, sweat on his brow as the brown liquor swirls around the crystal glass, his legs spread wide and his demeanor exuding assertiveness. “well, now don’t be silly, there’s no other seat,” you acknowledge the lack of another sofa in the cozy living room, and the one billy did sit on, was only big enough to seat one. “oh, that’s no problem, doll, just sit on my lap, hm?” he cocks his head at you, daring eyes telling you all you needed to know. your raise your eyebrows and smile. “are you sure that’s what you want me to do?” your voice is a single warning, and billy is clearly throwing all caution to the wind, because he laughs. “c’mon, baby, i’m a big boy, i know what i want,” you knew what his underlying message was and the implication urged you to begin walking towards the couch.

blue eyes bore into yours as you throw a leg on either side of his thighs, skirt splaying over the tops of your thighs. he downs all the liquor in the glass before placing it onto the small coffee table next to him, eyes never leaving yours. carefully, but not fearfully, he drags a finger from your calf all the way to your waist, before both of his large hands take a rest at your love handles. “careful, billy,” you say in a singsong voice, allowing your hips to slowly, very slowly, begin moving downwards unto billy’s crotch. your arms lazily wrap around his neck, forearms resting on his strong, broad, shoulders. he kisses his teeth, bringing his face closer to yours ever so slightly, whiskey breath fanning over your face, chest, décolletage. when his lips finally encase yours, there’s so much built-up tension flowing in the passionate manner in which he kisses you, his palms grip onto your hips possessively before pressing all over your back, grappling desperately to get his calloused hands everywhere on your body all at once. he felt like he was drowning in you, but he would never call for help, for he needed you this instant and there was nothing stopping him from having you right here, right now.

“get on your knees,” he grits through his teeth, lust seething through the low growl that is his voice. you hardly think twice before moving back onto the plywood floor, knees already taking splinters, but you didn’t care, not when billy was unbuckling his denim trousers and letting his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers.

billy revels in the wide-eyed expression on your face as you take in his size. his cock was beautiful—angry, red, and proud, tip leaking with precum, pretty veins running vertically along the length. you swallow your surprise and slowly, you wrap a soft hand around the base of his length, bringing your lips down to his tip and pressing teasing kisses on it. the man above you lets out a soft groan, relaxing his muscles and allowing a strong hand to run through your hair, not quite gathering it yet, but maintaining it out of your face.

after peppering gentle kisses all over his hard cock, you finally flatten your tongue against the underside of him, licking up to the tip. you wrap your lips around his achy head and take as much as you can of him into your mouth, warm throat tightening around him. it takes everything inside billy to not immediately start fucking your fragile face, and when your tear-pricked eyes met his darkened blue ones, he roughly pulls you off of him. he throws you onto your back on the couch, like you weigh no more than a feather, hikes up your skirt and pulls your pale, pink, cotton, panties to the side. as he begins sliding his cock between your puffy folds, his tip brushes against your sensitive bud, and you whine, needing him to quit dangling the carrot and fuck you already. at the pathetic sound, billy just coos, pressing a gentle, loving, kiss to your pouted lips, before slamming his cock into your unprepared, sopping, cunt. you cry out against his lips and as he begins rutting his hips against yours, he’s trying to find restraint. he knows you probably won’t be able to walk properly for a week if he keeps fucking you like this, but the pent up tension finally being released urges him to keep fucking you primally—and plus, you wanted this, didn’t you? with your teasing, and your fucking miniskirts, everything you did was a beg for billy to fuck you into your place, right?

even in his sex-crazed state, billy’s still a gentleman who’s concerned with your pleasure just as much as his, and uses one of the hands he had rested beside your head to draw fast circles on your clit, pulling the most melodic sounds from you. they pushed him closer and closer to the edge and before you both knew it, billy was pulling out of your cunt, making you whine at the empty feeling, stroking himself a few times before painting your abdomen in his seed.

when he came down from his high, billy dropped down to his knees before you, skipping all the teasing he wanted to do (he would, next time) and licked a fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit and sucking momentarily. the muscle continued to work at you, dipping and fucking into your achy hole, and within minutes, your orgasm had crashed into you like a powerful ocean tide, struck by poseidon himself. you cried out his name, explicit weaved between your moans. billy just rides you through it, strong hands holding your wildly bucking hips down as you spasmed through your release.

“good girl, such a good girl,” billy cooed, the praise making your face go warm, even after he saw the most intimate parts of you. you brush off the compliment, afraid your own voice would betray you and instead reply “i take it this won’t be the last time we do�� this?” and billy just chuckles darkly, picking you up off the couch and sitting himself back down, placing you prettily on his lap. “no, sugar. after this, you’re mine. understand?”

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#kai's got mail <3📑#angelnon 🤍#𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.. ✮⋆˙ !#billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy antrim #william h bonney smut #william bonney #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #billy bonney x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x you

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genderlessdude92 · 22 days

Text

FORGIVENESS

Angst-Fluff one shot

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader

SUMMARY: Alastor's work at the Hazbin Hotel keeps him preoccupied, leading to neglect in his relationship with Y/N. An argument later on arises, causing both to confront their feelings. Ultimately, they reconcile, promising to communicate better in the future. The story emphasizes the importance of understanding and communication in relationships.

WARNINGS: Reader is a sensitive little baby (っ◞‸◟c) (sorry not sorry), Story gets angsty but there is a happy ending with fluff yay, Neglect, established relationship (as seen above), takes place in present-day hell, reader and Alastor live in a manor-type house idk i would imagine him rich or smth, don’t imagine the manor like a richie rich mansion manor just…yk. emotional turmoil, verbal conflict, depiction of emotional distress, Relationship strain, mild violence (not physical), Reference to a soul bond (which is in most of my fics bc i feel like if Alastor really married anybody they would own each other’s souls idk what i’m doing shut up). Angel says an Angel-type sentence in the bonus writing. LMK if I missed anything <\3. This fix is rushed because i got a lot of good comments on my last one and i felt confident but i don’t anymore so L.

WORDS: 1.3k (with a side fic not counted)

!!TRANSLATING MY WORK OR COPYING IS NOT APPRECIATED!! (But thanks for liking it :3)

It was a typical morning in the manor of Alastor, the radio demon. The sun had barely broken over the horizon, hell’s birds were chirping, and the smell of coffee wafted through the halls. Alastor, as always, was in the kitchen sipping on his cup of coffee and writing down some ideas for the Hazbin Hotel. Y/N, his wife, was sitting across from him, her hair perfectly styled, just freshly taken out of curlers. But she was still in her damp robe from showering in the morning.

Alastor glanced up at her, a small smile on his face. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over him every time he looked at her. She was his wife, his partner, and his everything. They had been married for what felt like eternity, even though they had only been married since 1936. They had met in their previous life, both living in the same city, but they didn't truly fall in love until they met again in hell.

Y/N let out a small sigh from across the table, causing Alastor to look up from his notes once again.

But today, something was off between them. Well, more-so recently. He could tell that something was bothering her, her usually bright eyes filled with sadness. Without a word, he reached over and grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked at him, offering a small smile in return. But Alastor could see right through it, he knew something was weighing heavy on her mind.

“Everything alright darling?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N pondered for a moment, “…It’s nothin’, don’t needa worry, okay?” She reassured, her voice faltering a bit at the end.

Alastor sat back in his seat, his expression turning serious. “…You know i won’t let this slide, dear.” he reassured her.

Y/N nodded, the feeling of unease in the pit of both their stomachs. Alastor seemed sincere, but something in his gut told him that this was more to be a serious matter.

With a wider, more forced smile, Y/N stood up from the table, “I'm going to go get ready for the day…” she said before quickly leaving the kitchen.

Alastor watched her go, a frown appearing on his face. He hated seeing Y/N like this, but he didn't want to harp her and overwhelm her.

As the week went on, Alastor couldn't shake the feeling that he was neglecting his wife.

Charlie had been giving him countless tasks at the hotel, since Lucifer told her it was good to overwork the big guys just a little bit.

psh.

Probably because Lucifer isn’t even big.

Even when he got to work from home, they were still just ghosts to each other.

Even the dinner was cold.

“Sweetheart…” Alastor called from his seat.

She looked over to him after a moment, waiting if he would say anything else, “What’s wrong, Al?”

She silently asked.

“…The dinner tastes… different?…tonight?” Alastor tried to say with a sincere aspect. Maybe Alastor could help her with the cooking?

“…oh um…I’m sorry…”

Fuck.

“No, no- it’s fine! um…be a deer and… just microwave it, okay?” Alastor reassured with a cheery smile.

Y/N paused from working at the stove to look at him and then his plate before walking over to him and doing as he said-

quietly.

“…So…acid rain today, huh?” Alastor began to start some conversation, “-must have been a bummer.”

“…the last petunias died in the yard.” Y/N replied.

Later that evening, Alastor and Y/N were in their bedroom getting ready for bed. Y/N was brushing out her hair while Alastor was sitting at his vanity, humming a tune to himself. But his cheerful demeanor quickly changed when he looked up at Y/N's reflection in the mirror.

Her bottom was lip trembling, and she had to stop in between her brushes to take a deep breath. Alastor could feel a pang of guilt in his chest, knowing that he was most likely the cause of her sadness. He quickly stood up and walked over to her, “Darling, what's wrong?” he asked, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

Y/N turned around to face him and that's when it happened. “Just leave me alone, Alastor. You obviously haven’t been wanting to…i- interact with me recently.” She stated, “I’m doing you a favor.”

Alastor's frustration and guilt boiled over. “What do you want from me, Y/N? I have a lot on my plate right now and your attitude is really bothering me.” He replied, his tone harsh and genuine, alongside his smile that was tight and annoyed.

“You should really act your age for once, Y/N.”

She froze.

‘Act her age?’

“…I’m sorry I can’t be perfect all the time, Alastor.” She snapped back.

Alastor was to reply but she cut him off- “I’m sorry I have flaws.” She let her tears spill. Ones she didn’t even know she was barricading

“No, no- Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that-” Alastor started, but Y/N quickly was already opening the door to their bedroom, leaving Alastor alone with his thoughts.

He sat down at her vanity, wanting to inspect what she could’ve made her react like that. An object? maybe a broken object? A letter?

But nothing could have stopped him from staring at his reflection with shame and regret.

He had never gave Y/N harmful comments like that before, and he knew, always knew that words like that could deeply hurt Y/N. He had let his emotions get the best of him,

-and now he feared he may have damaged their relationship.

But he refused to let it end like this.

He quickly got up and went to find her, searching through their shared household. When he reached the living room, he could see her curled up on the couch, her face buried in one of the throw-pillows as she sobbed softly.

Alastor's heart broke at the sight, he had never seen Y/N like this before. He sat down next to her and slowly and softly began to rub his claw on her back through the silk nightgown she was wearing.

'I'm sorry, Y/N.”, He started. He stopped rubbing her for a moment to hear or see a reaction.

Nothing.

He continued, “I didn't mean it, I was just upset- things like this don’t happen, often, you understand…my emotions just got to me.” he whispered, his voice full of regret.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes still spilling tears, “I know you didn't mean it, Alastor. But it still hurt me…I can’t just be p-perfect all the time,”' she mumbled with a hiccup, slowly sitting up. “I’m afraid there’s a reason that you haven’t been around me an-“

Alastor hushed her, “I understand, darlings…work got the best of me i suppose…”

Alastor pulled her into his warm embrace, holding her tightly as he buried his face in her hair. “-I promise I’ll never, ever, do that again. I understand that sometimes we all can act differently depending on the atmosphere, and I just didn’t bring that to mind at first,” Alastor noted, his demeanor wavering in his voice, “I’ll never forget this conversation, Y/N…”

“I can't lose you.”

Y/N pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes locking with his. “I could never l-leave you, Al.” she whispered before pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

From that day on, Alastor made an effort to be more open with Y/N, to share his troubles and concerns with her instead of bottling them up. And in return, Y/N opened up more to him, sharing her fears and worries.

Nothing could tear them apart.

Mostly because they most likely have bonded souls but you know what i mean.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

BONUS !! (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

(450-500 words)

After the heartfelt conversation and reconnection with Alastor, Y/N decided to surprise him one day at the Hazbin Hotel with lunch. She spent the morning preparing Alastor's favorite dishes, humming to herself as she worked in the kitchen.

Once the food was ready, Y/N packed it neatly into a picnic basket and headed to the hotel.

As she entered the lobby, she was greeted by Charlie, who smiled warmly at her. "Hey, Y/N! What brings you here today?" Charlie asked, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

Charlie and Y/N had known each other since after that big battle with the angels. Like the good housewife Y/N usually was, she offered to help heal and mend to the hotel staff’s wounds. From then on, the staff just knew her as, ‘a second mom’ of sorts.

Y/N grinned, holding up the picnic basket. "I brought lunch for Alastor. Thought I'd surprise him," she replied. Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement. "That's so sweet of you! I'm sure he'll love it. Let me take you to his office," she offered, leading the way down the bustling hallway.

When they reached Alastor's office, Charlie knocked on the door before opening it, revealing Alastor seated behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork.

"Alastor, you have a visitor!" Charlie announced with a sing-song like voice. Alastor looked up, a surprised expression crossing his face when he saw Y/N standing in the doorway, holding the picnic basket. His eyes lit up with delight, and he quickly set aside his paperwork, standing up to greet her.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he exclaimed, stepping forward to give Y/N a hug. "A surprise lunch visit from my lovely wife. You've outdone yourself, darling." Y/N chuckled, returning his embrace. "I thought you could use a break from all that paperwork. Plus, um… I wanted to spend some time with you, if that’s okay." she replied, placing the picnic basket on his desk.

Alastor's smile widened, “Of course, dear. Anytime i’m around you is like a gift sent from the overlords.”

As he opened the basket, he was revealed to see the delicious spread Y/N had prepared. "You truly are too good to me, Y/N," he said, pulling out a sandwich and taking a bite. As they enjoyed their lunch together.

Y/N noticed Charlie just awkwardly standing there, spacing out. “Charlie, dear, do you want some?”

Charlie snapped out of her trance, “Oh- no, uh, that’s okay! I’ll leave you two to it.” He gave them a thumbs up before leaving to the hallways of the hotel.

As she walked out of his office, she was surprised to see Angel and Husk standing next to each other, watching the whole things.

“So…since husk ain’t bettin’ it…” Angel began, a mishcevious mood setting in,

“…you wanna bet how loud they’ll get?”

NOTE: Second fic woohoo!!! This fic, although, was a bit rushed and i was feeling really confident in the beginning because i got SO MUCH great comments and support (tysm (,,•́ω ก̀,,) in the that fic…but then i lost a tiny amount of motivation…overtime. But i couldn’t just stop writing…my OCD wouldn’t like that (♥︎ω♥︎ ) ~♪ Also when Y/N was humming in the bonus story in the kitchen…100% was humming to a song that played on the broadcast the night before i just didn’t wanna add it in…REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! >:3

…support is appreciated

-Genderlessdude92, Kiki

MY MASTERLIST!! (Click me :D)

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife reader #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

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wynnyfryd · 26 days

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 60

part 1 | part 59 | ao3

cw: reference to canonical minor character death

Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”

“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.

(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)

But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof.

He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...

Fuck.

Fuck!

He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.

The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…

Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—

"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"

Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."

They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart.

When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.

In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep.

In the morning it’ll be fine.

In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.

—

In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.

—

part 61

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#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

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holllandtrash · 1 year

Text

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 5)

paring: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 5 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

in twelve short hours, you were everything from drunk to lonely, to desperate to scared to anxious to content to happy to scared once again. it didn't help that lando was with you to experience all of it, it was worse that he still chose to stay

word count: 6.7k tags/warnings PLEASE READ: some mature themes including alcohol consumption, reference to not being in control of your body/surroundings, faint anxiety, subtle references to non-con situations (but no actual non-con acts, dont worry)

Lando held out his arm for you to use to balance yourself as you pulled your heels off. You tossed them to the side and sighed happily when your soles pressed against the hardwood floor.

“Come on,” Lando encouraged, hand going to your back as he led you down the hall, “let's get you to bed.”

You had practically passed out in the car when Lando picked you up. You desperately wanted to stay up and talk to him, but you were drunk and tired and keeping your eyes open in a moving vehicle wasn’t doing anything for your intoxicated state of mind.

And now Lando was pushing open the bedroom door, keeping his mouth shut at the state of the room and the sight of your clothes piled up in the corner. You wanted to apologise for the mess but in your defence, no one was supposed to be here except you.

“I’ll go get you some water, okay?” Lando waited until you were situated on the edge of the bed before leaving the room. You knew this was probably the best time for you to change out of the dress and put on something more comfortable but when you reached for the zipper that rested halfway down your back it became very clear that you could not rid this dress from your body alone.

You weren’t sure how to ask Lando how to help you without him getting the wrong idea. It wasn’t that you wanted to strip in front of him but you also weren’t about to fall asleep in the dress you’ve been wearing for sixteen hours.

When Lando came back he put the glass of water on the bedside table, stepping over a curling iron that you had dangerously left in the middle of the floor. You watched silently as he adjusted the pillows against the headboard, fluffing them out for you.

He glanced over his shoulder, probably wondering why you hadn’t moved an inch since he had left to get water. The way you sat there with uncertainty told him that the contents of everything you ate and drank were about to work their way up.

“Do I need to go get a bin for you?” Lando asked.

“What?” Your eyebrows pinched together. “No, no, I’m okay, I just-” you pointed to the back of your dress, “I need help.”

Lando was about to ask for clarification but then his gaze landed on the zipper. He let out a very quiet, ‘oh’ before walking towards you and helping you stand up. Your eyes locked for a second and even in the dimly lit bedroom, even when you needed a second to focus, the mix of green and gold in his irises had you forgetting what it was you just asked for help with.

He probably got the hint that your request had vanished from your mind because Lando took it upon himself to gently spin you around. He collected your hair that was pinned back in a high ponytail and rested it over your shoulder. A chill travelled through you when his thumb brushed against your bare skin before he took hold of the zipper.

There was a very strong chance he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

Staggered breaths hit the back of your neck as he pulled the zipper down about halfway. His other hand found a home on your hip, his fingers lightly pressing against the silk orange material.

“You do look stunning in this dress,” Lando whispered, eyes raking over the indents in your skin, the freckles on your back that he had never noticed before.

“Oh but let me guess,” you rolled your eyes and attempted your best British accent, “It’d look better on the floor?”

Lando laughed and your stomach turned in knots when he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, his curls brushing against your neck and it took everything in you not to reach up and tangle your fingers through them. His grip on your side tightened, only for a moment, before he inhaled quietly and lifted his head.

You turned around and his hand on you loosened, but he didn't drop it from your side. You tried to focus on keeping eye contact with him, but your line of sight kept dropping to his lips.

Did you want him to kiss you?

Even if you were waiting for it, that moment wouldn't come. Not in the state you were in currently in. The most he did was lift his hands to cup your cheeks, dipping your face enough so he could kiss the top of your head.

And just because you were drunk and didn’t know how to react to a gesture as soft and caring as this, you relied on your usual banter to get you past this blurred line you found yourself standing on.

“That counts as one of your seconds.”

Lando dropped his hands from your face and stared at you, confusion written all over his features. Now that the material of the dress wasn’t constricted against your body, the straps hung loosely over your arms. It would take you less than a second to slip out of the garment, but that would be the alcohol making the decisions for you.

“It absolutely does not,” he argued, not daring to let his eyes drop from yours, even if the loose dress hung lower on your chest than it was before.

“Yes it does.”

“You won’t remember it in the morning.”

“Yes I will.”

Lando didn’t believe you. He’d seen you drunk only twice before and that was at the club after the Miami grand prix, both this year and last. Which was horrible because you were technically underage at the 2022 event but with your brothers and the drivers keeping an eye on you, you knew you were fine.

Last year, you were a wild card. Switching from dancing one minute to chatting up strangers the next and everything in between all night long. The next morning, Lando had overheard Charles telling Carlos that you didn’t remember a thing.

This year was no different. You let loose in Miami and the following morning, you had no recollection of anything that took place after the race.

But you weren’t as drunk now as you were then. Or at least you thought that to be true. You were still in control of your actions. You could tell a bad decision from a good one. You knew that standing this close to Lando after missing him for the last week and half wasn’t a good idea but acting on the pull you felt towards him was an even worse one.

Lando lifted his hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face, the same strand that kept getting caught on your earring all night.

“You are…” he took a deep breath, you couldn’t even begin to guess how he would finish that sentence. He might have wanted to compliment you again. Or he could have made a ridiculing comment about how he couldn’t handle you. The way he looked at you hinted towards a mixture of both sweet and sarcastic.

But he didn’t voice the rest of his thoughts. Instead, Lando shook his head slowly and gave your hand a gentle squeeze before he stepped back.

“Get some sleep, yeah?”

Roles reversed when you found yourself refusing to let him go. The second his hand fell from yours, you grabbed it again and kept him from heading to the living room, undoubtedly where he was planning on spending the rest of the night.

Because of course he would give you the bedroom, his bedroom.

Lando cared about you more than you wanted to admit because that would mean you’d have to admit that you also cared about him.

“Can you stay?” The question slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself. Maybe you weren’t in total control of your actions.

“We both know that’s not a good idea.”

Lando was thinking clearly. He might have wanted to share a bed with you, but he knew how incoherent and intoxicated you were and if he was going to spend a night with you, the first night, he wanted you both to be sober for it.

“I think you should get ready for bed,” he changed the topic before you could fight him on his decision. Lando backed up and headed into his closet, grabbing one of the hoodies, his hoodies, from the hanger. He handed it to you, but didn’t stay, instead walking into the ensuite. “Do you have- oh, yes you do.” Lando walked back into the room holding a package of makeup wipes. He pulled the wrapping back to pull out a damp tissue.

Lando put the makeup wipe in your empty hand and then gestured with his chin to the hoodie, wordlessly reminding you that getting ready for bed was probably, definitely, the best thing for both of you.

You nodded and walked into the bathroom to change. Lando wasn’t going to give in to what you wanted, but you were surprised to see him leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone when you walked back into the bathroom, fresh faced, in an oversized hoodie, and still quite drunk.

“Okay,” you flailed your arms to the side and Lando looked up, placing his phone on the tv stand. You’d be lying if you said you missed the way he smiled when he saw you in one of his jumpers, something that he thought he’d never see.

“Water’s on the table,” he pointed out. “Try not to throw up in the bed-”

“I’m not going to throw up in the bed.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“I’m not that drunk,” you scoffed, but as you crossed your arms over your chest, you nearly lost your balance. You caught yourself, thankfully, but it only further proved Lando’s point that you were most likely not able to control whether or not you got sick during the night.

“Come on,” he pushed himself off the wall and stepped around you to pull the covers back on the bed. He nodded his head towards the very inviting mattress, “Bed, now.”

“I don’t need you to parent me.”

“I’m not parenting you, Y/N, it’s 1:30 in the morning and we should both be sleeping,” his little laugh that followed told you that he wasn’t all that mad about being awake right now, even if there were dark bags under his eyes and a couch that was calling his name.

You slid into the bed and pulled the blanket up to your chin. You were about ten seconds away from falling asleep, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to go. Before Lando could leave you for the rest of the night, you stuck your arm out of the blanket and grabbed his hand.

“I’m not staying,” Lando said with a soft laugh, already knowing what you were going to ask of him.

As much as Lando wanted to crawl into bed next to you, he knew you’d regret it in the morning. You were drunk, you weren’t thinking straight, you just wanted company and you missed Lando and now that he was right in front of you, you didn’t want to let him go.

But you wouldn’t want this if you were sober. You would be kicking him to the couch before he could even think about sliding into bed next to you. You’d be making a joke about how this would be the one and only time he’d ever help you undress. There would be more banter, more sarcasm, more eye rolls.

Drunk you was funny, adorable, irresistible, even, but it wasn’t you. And Lando knew you too well, respected you too much, to take any sort of advantage over this scenario, even if you didn’t see it as such.

You covered your mouth with your other hand as you yawned and asked, “What about just until I fall asleep?”

That was the compromise. Much like how you could give him thirty seconds of pretending he wasn’t a driver instead of two minutes, you were hoping he would stay until your eyes closed. After that, he could go. It wasn’t like you’d be awake for much longer anyway.

“Please?” god you were begging now. That’s how Lando knew you were well past the point of intoxication. You’d rather die than ask him for anything.

But maybe that’s why Lando eventually gave in, because this would be the only time you’d ever ask him to lay with you. There was a very strong chance this would be the first and last time he’d be able to crawl into bed and hold you against his side as you fell asleep with your head on his chest.

Lando sighed quietly and nodded, trying not to let his happiness show when your face lit up as he walked around to the other side of the bed. He didn’t get under the blanket, he was smarter than that, if he let himself get comfortable he’d never get up.

So he got on top of the blanket as you curled yourself into his side. Lando rested one arm behind his head and used the other arm to pull you closer. Immediately, you abandoned the pillows he had so nicely fluffed for you and used his chest as a pillow instead.

You could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek and found comfort in it, much like how he found solace with each breath you took as your eyelashes fluttered shut.

He gently played with your hair and his fingers against your scalp had you smiling as fatigue took over your body.

Lando kept his gaze on you the entire time. Waiting to see if he could tell when you fell asleep, hoping to find out if you were someone who snored or spoke when you were sleeping.

You twitched against him, indicating that you were definitely no longer awake, but Lando stayed there for an extra minute or two to make sure of it. He wished he could have stayed there all night, but you would lose it on him in the morning if you woke up next to him.

It didn’t matter how bad you wanted him now, it wasn’t real.

And that was the reality that convinced Lando to carefully slide out of bed. He didn’t even allow himself to sneak one more look at you before walking out of the room, dragging his hand through his hair and wondering what it would take for you to want him like this tomorrow and the next day and every day after that.

——————

You wished you knew how you ended up back at Lando’s place last night, but the details were fuzzy and your head was still spinning as you slowly came to that morning.

You remembered saying bye to the bride and groom before getting into a black car. Did you order an uber? If yes, what else did you buy last night? You wouldn’t have been surprised if you asked the driver to stop at a drive-thru for a late night burger and fries.

Reaching towards the bedside table, you blindly searched for your phone and was met with a glass of water instead. The force of your hand knocked it sideways and you sat up in a panic.

“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing a pillow to cover the spill up. You weren’t an irresponsible drunk per say, but it was unlike you to pour yourself some water when you came home after a night out.

You rubbed your hand over your face, fully expecting to see mascara smudged on the pads of your fingers when you pulled your hand back, but it was clean. You had absolutely no recollection of taking your makeup off before bed.

And then you noticed the baby blue sleeve covering your arm. You pulled at the material against your chest and made out the white Quadrant logo printed on the jumper. This was Lando’s hoodie.

There was no fucking way you went into his closet and willingly put it on.

You climbed out of bed, ignoring the faint pounding happening in your head and praying it would go away after you made yourself something to eat. You were lucky, you didn’t struggle too badly with hangovers, instead you struggled with filling in the gaps of what happened the night prior.

You made your way down the hall with the sole intent of making a plate of eggs and bacon and then crawling right back into bed. There was a carton of eggs in the fridge and you already knew where everything in the kitchen was after making the most of it and all of its spacious glory these last two weeks.

So you grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and cracked an egg into it. After tossing out the shell, you grabbed a second egg.

“Morning.”

And then you used that second egg as a weapon.

You spun on your heels and threw it in the direction of where the voice came from, which just so happened to be from the hallway right outside the bathroom door. A normal reaction would have been to scream or jump at the thought of an intruder being in the home, but no, you relied on a goddamn egg to save your life.

At least your aim was good. It hit the ‘intruder’ right in the chest but you covered your mouth with your hands when you realised who you had just gotten egg yolk all over.

Lando stood there, yellow staining the cotton in the centre of his shirt as yolk dripped to the floor. A few broken shells clung to him, but the majority of it was on the floor near his feet.

Any other day, you would have apologised for the mess you caused.

But any other day, you probably would have been made aware if you were in the same room as Lando.

“I prefer my eggs scrambled, but sure, this works,” Lando nodded, accepting that this was the reality he had woken up to. He stepped over the eggshells and reached for the roll of paper towels that was in the corner of the kitchen.

All you could do was stand there with your back against the fridge as you tried to piece together the events of last night.

Did Lando pick you up? You didn’t even know he was in London. This flat only had one bedroom, you didn’t share a bed did you? Maybe he showed up this morning, but why would he show up unannounced?

You yanked on the collar of your jumper, his jumper, “Was this your doing?”

Was that really the question that took priority right now?

Lando barely glanced up from trying to clean himself off, “You’re asking if, in your intoxicated state, I got you naked and forced a Quadrant jumper on you? Yes, Y/N that’s exactly what I did.”

Now that you heard it out loud, the idea was pretty preposterous. Lando was annoying in plenty of ways, but he wouldn’t cross a line like that.

But he basically confirmed being with you last night.

You dragged your hand through your hair, still attempting to put the pieces together yourself as you grabbed a towel from the drawer and held it under the stream of water from the kitchen skin.

“Did you pick me up last night?” You asked, crossing the kitchen and walking over to him. Lando tossed the crumpled paper towel on the counter and didn’t say anything as you dabbed the cloth over his shirt, trying to get the egg out.

“You asked me to,” he answered, already sounding defensive.

“When did you get to London?”

“I arrived in the UK a few days ago, but I just got to London yesterday.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” You stretched out the material of his shirt, trying not to notice his tanned skin underneath or the fact that he had a v-line that disappeared into the hem of his grey sweats.

“I did tell you,” he chuckled. “When you called me last night.”

“I called you?” Your eyebrows pinched together, trying to focus on the yolk stain but the timeline of events slowly being put together was a bit distracting. The frustration that you couldn’t remember any of it but Lando could was being taken out on his shirt. “Why would I call you?”

“I don’t know, but it was right after I commented on your post.”

You remembered posting the three pictures, but didn’t remember any notifications that followed, “What did you say?”

“That you looked good in orange.”

“Why did you-” you cut yourself off, annoyed for a handful of reasons and you threw the towel on the counter beside you. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care!” You forced yourself to smile, wanting to make the best out of this situation but Lando saw right through it. You backed up, glancing between his eyes and the stain on his shirt, “You should throw it on the wash.”

“Oh if anyone needs to do laundry, it's you,” Lando laughed, “I saw the pile of clothes in the bedroom. Have you done any washing since you’ve been here?”

He was in the bedroom with you?

Lando meant it as a joke, trying to poke fun of the mess you made in his home, but the instant he saw the panic sink in, he knew he said the wrong thing.

“Woah, hey don’t worry, nothing happened last night,” Lando quickly assured you. Still, your heart was racing and it only intensified when he stepped forward and put his hands on your shoulders, “I promise, Y/N, nothing happened. I didn’t even sleep in the room, I wouldn’t do that, you were drunk. I like you but I’m not- I wouldn’t have dared try anything,” he painfully swallowed at the thought that you might not believe him. “I gave you the jumper and those cleaning wipe things, you changed in the bathroom, I laid with you for like five minutes until you passed out and then I left. I slept out here. I promise.”

You still felt uneasy at the idea of Lando being with you when you were in such a vulnerable state. You had no control of your actions, no memory, just his word that nothing happened and you wanted to believe him, but you weren’t an idiot. You were a girl and you needed your walls to be up, it was the unfortunate world you were brought into.

You had heard horror stories of friends thinking they could trust the guys they were with only to be proven wrong in the worst ways.

You shook Lando’s hands off of you, putting space between your bodies again.

Lando watched as you turned your back on him to try and go back to making your breakfast. He noticed your fingers trembling as you grabbed another egg and cracked it into the bowl. A couple shells landed with the yolk and you swore under your breath.

He approached you hesitantly and when he put his hand on your back you flinched and tried to step away from him again.

“Don’t-” you tensed. “Please, Lando just don’t touch me right now.”

He held his hands up defensively and glanced at the eggs, “I was just going to say I can do this. Go take a shower or go back to bed for a bit, let me make breakfast.”

“Breakfast in bed isn’t going to make me trust your word,” you said. Your stomach twisted, but not in the butterfly kind of way. It was the kind of knot that made you feel physically sick. “You don’t get it, Lando, this probably isn’t something you’ve ever had to worry about. But I don’t remember anything from last night and I’m just supposed to believe that you didn’t do something? I didn’t even know you were in the city until right now, I can’t-” you shook your head. “I want to believe you, really, but when I woke up this morning I thought I was alone in this flat so already this is not off to a good start.”

You grabbed a fork from the drawer and tried to fish out the broken shell, ignoring Lando just watching you. When it was clear that you were too anxious and on edge to try and make breakfast, you dropped the fork to the sink and declared you were giving up. You didn’t even let Lando get another word in before you walked down the hall towards the room, slamming the door after you.

You peeled the quadrant hoodie off of you and threw it in the corner of the room. You felt gross and even if he really hadn’t done anything, there was a sickeningly crawling feeling that spread through your body.

A shower was the first step to get rid of it. Rid yourself of last night, of the wedding, of everything that was said or done within the last twenty four hours. You turned on the water and stepped in, letting your senses drown in the steam and scalding hot water.

You rubbed your hands over your face, taking in a few deep breaths before reaching for the bar of soap.

The longer you stood there, the more you thought about how you might have overreacted.

You had every reason to be paranoid. Every person who woke up in that same scenario would be, but it was Lando.

Lando wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or betray you. He wouldn’t take advantage of you. The worst he might do is take a photo of you blackout drunk and use it as black mail, but he would never, ever put you in an unsafe position.

Even in your drunken state, you must have known that. Why else would you have called him? You weren’t someone who ever went home with a stranger or had one night stands with a person whose name you would forget in the morning, but you called Lando.

He was the one you wanted to be with at the end of the night.

You didn’t know what time you left the wedding, but you could imagine it was late. It wouldn’t have surprised you to know that Lando didn’t hesitate before grabbing his keys to drive to you because he’d rather take you home than let you get in a car with a stranger. He was letting you stay at his flat for christ sakes, this man would do anything for you.

He was wholesomely trying to work his way up your driver ranking, slowly, cautiously, all while gaining more and more of your trust as the days went on. He wanted you to like him. He wouldn’t jeopardise your friendship by any means.

Also, he’d have 19 drivers on the grid to answer to if he ever did try anything. And some team principals. And your other brothers.

Lando liked you and there had been a few blurred lines within the last couple weeks, but he wouldn’t dare cross one like this.

When you finished showering, you were a bit more clear headed than you were after your alarming first few minutes of being awake. You took your time washing your face but decided to let your hair air-dry. His hoodie in the corner of the room wasn’t one you reached for, but it didn’t cause you to tense up when you looked at it.

You put on a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt instead and after telling yourself one more time that Lando was someone you could trust, you walked out of the room.

His back was towards you as he sang along to whatever song was playing on his phone. He had cleaned up the mess that was on the floor and changed shirts so there was no trace of the egg you had thrown at him.

He didn’t hear you leave the bedroom, too engrossed in putting the finishing touches on breakfast. He had pulled out everything he could from the fridge to make a few omelettes. You saw two plates each with toast already on them and from the smell of it, it seemed like he was about done.

Lando then heard your quiet footsteps as you approached and he glanced over his shoulder to give you a shy smile, “Hey, sit down, breakfast is about ready.”

But you didn’t sit. Instead, you walked right up to him and slid your arms around his waist to hug him from behind. You pressed your cheek to his back and let out a deep breath, closing your eyes.

He hesitated. You weren't usually one to make any sort of move like this towards him, but then rested his hand over yours and chuckled softly. He could feel your hair dampen his shirt and he was a little constricted in his movements as he tried to finish cooking, but he didn’t care.

You were hugging him. That’s the only thing that mattered.

“I’m not going to apologise for reacting the way I did,” you whispered. “But I know now that you wouldn’t ever-”

“I kissed the top of your head,” Lando interjected. You could feel his body tense as he inhaled a sharp breath.

You lifted your head from his back right as Lando turned to face you. You could see the guilt painted all over his face. He looked as though he was confessing to a crime.

"You-" there was no memory of that exchange. "You did what?"

“You asked me to help you with the zipper on your dress and I did but then I kissed the top of your head and I know I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry,” Lando admitted. “And then you told me that it counted as one of my twelve seconds, which I think is a little dramatic, but I’m still sorry."

"Lando, if all you did was kiss the top of my head, I think we're fine," you assured him, your words were followed by a light hearted laugh, but he still wanted to apologize.

"I didn’t even think about how you would react this morning seeing me and I understand now why you acted the way you did, I wouldn’t trust any person who was in my house if I woke up after a night out either." He didn't even want to put himself in your shoes. "I promise, next time you call me at midnight to pick you up I will take you straight home and I’ll walk you to the door but I won’t come inside because-”

“Next time?” your eyebrows furrowed together. Granted, that was not the most important part of his little ramble, but it was the part that stood out. “You think there’s going to be a next time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Lando answered too confidently. “Because you know I’ll drop anything for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was look up at him, trying to tell if he was being truthful or not.

You laughed it off, “No you wouldn’t.”

All Lando did was raise his eyebrows. He wasn’t going to try and convince you he was being honest, he was going to let you believe what you wanted to believe. He turned and grabbed the handle of the pan to slide the omelette onto a plate before handing it to you.

You took it without exchanging another word and went and sat down at the dining room table. Lando joined a minute later with his own plate and added salt and pepper to his. You grabbed a forkful and waited for it to cool off before eating it, pleasantly surprised at how it tasted.

You thought you were a better cook than Lando, but you might just be wrong.

“So,” you quickly swallowed, “If we were to date, who would do the cooking in the relationship?”

“Don’t,” Lando barely looked at you before he stood up to grab a few glasses of water.

You put your fork down and stared after him, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t tease that,” He clarified with a faint laugh. “Don’t tease a relationship.”

“It’s a hypothetical question, I’m not teasing anything.”

Lando rolled his eyes as he sat back down, sliding you one of the glasses. He took a large sip before finally answering, “Fine. Hypothetically, we would both cook.”

“And the cleaning?”

He took a quick look around the flat. He didn’t have to say anything, you got the hint. You had stuff thrown everywhere. Shoes, jackets, empty bottles of sparkling water. You didn’t pack much for this trip but surprisingly, none of it was in the suitcase anymore or properly put away. This wasn’t your flat but you sure made yourself at home.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, you’ll do the cleaning.”

“Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically,” you agreed.

Lando took a few more bites before he kept going with this topic, “Would you come to the races?”

“I already do.”

“As my girlfriend,” he added, speaking with his mouthful. “Not as Charles’ sister.” He took another bite and then finished with, “Hypothetically.”

You inhaled a breath, leaning against the back of the chair. You avoided his eyes as you picked at the food on your plate.

It wasn’t a genuine question but at the same time, you both knew it was. Calling it a hypothetical was a safety net. Something to fall back on if one of you said something that the other didn’t agree with. Or worse, if you both said all the right answers.

“I think it would be like shared custody,” you eventually said with a hint of a smile. You kept the tone playful, but still answered as truthfully as you could, “One race with Ferrari, the next with McLaren and I’d keep going back and forth.”

Lando rolled his eyes and scoffed, “I don’t want to share you.”

“Hypothetically,” you included at the end of that sentence because he seemed to forget that this scenario wasn't real.

Lando’s eyebrow twitched as he took a sip of water, not agreeing to that final word. Hinting at the fact that maybe he was telling the truth in that sense. He didn’t want to share you.

He didn’t want you to hang out in the Ferrari garage. He didn’t want to see you flirting with Carlos. He didn’t want you spending your nights in hotels or air bnb’s away from him. He would never say that out loud, knowing how possessive it would sound. But what you didn’t know wouldn’t kill either of you.

“Hypothetically, I’d be able to kiss my girlfriend for more than twelve seconds,” Lando said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

You pointed your fork at him, “You mean eleven?”

“Oh so you are counting the head kiss from last night?”

“Yes.”

He nodded with a sigh, “I understand.”

That’s how the rest of breakfast went, trading hypothetical questions that held a bit more truth to them than either of you were willing to admit. He finished eating before you did, but sat at the table and waited for you to finish. He laughed when he pointed out you had spinach stuck in your teeth, but he quickly stopped laughing when you threw half of your toast at him.

When your plate was empty, Lando grabbed it and made a comment about how he would do the cleaning, remember? You followed him to the kitchen and tried to help him with the dishes but he just playfully pushed you away. When you tried to remind him that he cleaned up after you made pizza that first night and it was only fair that you help this time, he pretended to be deaf.

Lando held out his arm to block you from grabbing the used pans and when you tried to step around him on the other side he just backed up and kept backing up until you were fully out of the kitchen.

“Sit down,” he demanded, trying to sound as stern as possible as he pointed at the couch.

And just because he was really cute when he tried to sound intimidating, you held your hands up in surrender and sat down on the couch. You watched him clean for a bit but then you spotted your phone on the coffee table, surprisingly not dead.

You answered Charles’ text asking how the wedding was and Arthur’s message asking for a life update because you had accidentally ignored the his last four calls. You texted him and promised that you’d call him later, not even annoyed that he was checking in on you so much. You were lucky to have such protective and caring brothers.

You didn’t let yourself think about how livid Charles would be if he knew where you were right now.

There was nothing on social media about you being spotted with Lando, so you were in the clear for the time being. But if you left the flat with him, surely people would find out.

“What are you doing today?” You asked, looking up from your phone screen to see him finishing up. He wiped his hands on his sweats and had to think about it for a second.

“Whatever you’re doing,” he landed on.

He walked to the back of the couch and leaned forward, dipping his head next to yours. You had to crane your neck to meet his gaze and you were momentarily caught off guard by the way the sunlight seeping through the window hit the side of his face, more specifically showcasing the stunning array of colours in his eyes.

“Tu as de beaux yeux,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. Lando gave you a look of confusion before you realised that you had complimented him in French. Maybe that was for the better. If you had complimented him in a language he understood, he’d hold it against you forever.

But it was true. He had beautiful eyes.

“What did you just say?” Lando asked quietly.

“I said you smell like eggs.”

Lando rolled his eyes and tugged on your hair, knowing that you were not only lying, but trying to be annoying as well.

“I have a proposition for you,” he then said, clasping his fingers together over the back of the couch. “We can do whatever you want today, if you let me plan what we do tomorrow.”

“What makes you think I want to hang out with you tomorrow?”

“Hypothetically, my girlfriend should always want to hang out with me.”

Your eyes widened for a second at the mock arrogance as you turned back to your phone, “Someone’s a little full of themselves today, hey?”

Lando snatched your phone out of your hands and tossed it onto the loveseat, ensuring he’d have your full attention as he jumped over the back of the couch to sit next to you. You expected some banter to follow after that comment, but when you met his eyes you could see a deep weight of concern in them.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line last night,” Lando said quietly.

“By kissing my head?” You asked and Lando nodded. He was so sweet. You reached forward and rested your hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I like to think your intentions were good.”

Of course they were. He made sure you had changed out of your dress and washed your face before crawling into bed. He got you a glass of water. You still couldn’t get over the fact that he picked you up from the wedding in the first place.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you told him. It was genuine appreciation. Usually you were on your own. Sometimes if you were with Charles or Arthur during a night out, they’d walk you to your room but they’d make a joke about how you were an idiot for drinking so much. They wouldn’t stay longer than they needed to.

“I like taking care of you.”

You rolled your eyes, covering half of your face with your hand as you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

Because then you’d really start to like him. Because then you’d rethink your no dating drivers rule. Because then all of these hypotheticals would turn into the real thing. It was bad enough that he already made you feel uncharacteristically giddy in his presence and that he had a calming aura that pulled you to him when it was just the two of you alone.

You pulled your eyes from his and inhaled a deep breath, reaching for the remote to turn the tv on, “You just can’t.”

Lando couldn’t say things like that because what started as meaningless flirting was now starting to sound real. He was only supposed to work his way up your driver standings, not work his way into your life, your thoughts, your heart. He had to tone it down before it got any worse.

But deep down, you feared it might already be too late.

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 if i missed some people im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

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pagannatural · 1 month

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2.07 The Usual Suspects

-Sam being interrogated about Dean is so so good because we get to see Sam being told that his brother is a scumbag criminal and the way he reacts by rolling his eyes like he’s heard this before. It’s almost like seeing a teenage version of Sam. The detective keeps telling him to throw Dean under the bus and the whole time he’s just giving attitude and plotting how to help Dean and work the case. He keeps looking out the window. Some of his reactions are raw and some are fake and some are both and his mind is running through his options assessing what to do and how to get out of this.

When confronted with the cliff notes on his and Dean’s life, Sam runs the gamut of emotion from sad and grief-stricken about Jessica to defending Dean and acting all scandalized to being a smartass, to whatever the hell this is when she says “it’s not your fault he’s your brother, we can’t pick our family”

The double meaning here. The not meeting her eyes, the tension on his face, the disdain. It’s giving Bitch don’t I fucking know it, yet I would choose him a thousand times and every time I would be a little bit miserable. “It’s not your fault he’s your brother, we can’t pick our [soul mates]” is probably what God tells him in his most comforting dreams.

-So the detective’s theory is what? That after a shared sordid serial killer childhood Sam escaped the life and then Dean murdered Sam’s girlfriend in a house fire to lure him back in and make him his crime wife?

Because I mean yeah I would read that AU. That fits their vibe pretty nicely.

-She says “Dean’s a bad guy….his life is over, yours doesn’t have to be” and Sam looks at her like that’s the dumbest thing he has ever heard.

She doesn’t know that they become sickly and depressed when they’re apart like a pair of bonded sewer kittens.

When she tells him he can get on with his life and Dean’s as good as gone you can almost see him tuning her out and calculating how to lie about this.

-Sam starts on his cover story, using his trademark Sweet-Innocent face. He relies on his charms and on appearing helpless to manipulate people into doing what he wants. He would’ve learned to do this when he was a child as a survival skill, and I can just imagine how well this complemented Dean’s tough but earnest seduction thing. Acting sweet and helpless when you’re actually savvy and resourceful is a trope commonly used in female characters. These traits (innocence, sweetness, feigned helplessness) are associated with women gaining/utilizing agency in the ways available to them.

Because narratively, Sam is the girl. It’s stuff like this, plus the way he’s depicted as Dean’s tempting damsel in distress in other episodes. It increases the sexual tension between Sam and Dean when they rely on these archetypes because we know what it means when two leads are masculine and feminine, when they need each other and the plot hinges on their conflict. It means they’re the love interests.

-Dean makes a joke about Sam being Scully, and Sam’s like I’m not Scully you’re Scully, and Dean says “No I’m Mulder. You’re a red headed woman.” Really spelling it out.

Dean is smirking and making prolonged eye contact and just— he’s flirting. There’s a Bruce Springsteen song titled “Red Headed Woman” about how “it takes a red headed woman to get a dirty job done.” I have no idea if this is what Dean’s referencing or if it’s just a Scully reference but it’s a very specific thing to say and Sam is brunette. The song is very suggestive.

-Dean HATES waiting around while Sam works. Within seconds he becomes insufferable and has to leave to go do something, flirting with Sam again on his way out.

-“Sam’s story matches Dean’s to the last detail” they didn’t even SEE each other before talking to police! They’re just so connected that they tell the same exact story. Then they both work on the case in their separate interrogation rooms using different methods and arrive at the same conclusion at the same time. They also make the same joke about their public defender.

-I keep seeing this post about who knew Dean better, Sam or Castiel, and I just want to point out that these two are so in sync they can essentially read each others minds.

-We have an outsider perspective on their lives and relationship a few times this episode, and the detectives comment more than once on how weirdly connected the brothers are. Like, Dean communicates to Sam via movie reference to escape and Sam is already all over that, he’s been assessing how to climb out the window since his first scene.

-Dean tells the detective to go to Sam so that Sam can save her life, giving her their info on “how we find each other when we’re separated.” That’s very practical. It’s also true that when they aren’t together they are obsessed with finding each other and making sure they know exactly where the other is at all times. They must have felt so untethered when Sam was at Stanford. I’m imagining Sam going on a little trip over spring break and feeling like he’s forgetting something really important and starting to panic only to realize it’s just that Dean won’t know where he is.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #sam and dean #wincest #spn 2x07

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babydin · 1 year

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Love in the Middle of a Firefight

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (1/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1868 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens. This will be in multiple parts but I haven't planned for how many! There will be time-jumps in each of the parts because I'm impatient™️

You haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode.

“Joel I–” The words catch in your throat as he looks up at you after hearing his name. He always has an expectant look on his face whenever you say his name; he’d been so attentive since the two of you had settled town in Jackson with Ellie. You didn’t dare say it out loud, or to his face, but the man was domesticated. He was tamed and you hadn’t done a thing, he’d just set his battles aside. Both of them were, Ellie had agreed to go to school, and Joel helped around the town in the mornings then returned home for a late lunch. Just to prove your point, he was doing dishes when you found him. “Joel, I’m late.”

He set down the bowl from breakfast he was drying with a dish towel and then wiped his hands on his jeans, “Well, where d’ya need t’ be? I’ll drive you.” Your face scrunches and you shake your head, you’d smile if you weren’t so scared. You don’t want to say it out loud, saying it out loud would make it real. Maybe if the world hadn’t fallen apart and supplies weren’t limited, risks weren’t significantly higher because of all of that you’d be a little more excited, you’d have ran to the nearest drugstore to buy a home pregnancy test and taken it immediately. “Joel.” you say his name again, firmer this time, hoping he hears you. He’s halfway between grabbing the keys to his truck and the kitchen sink, those attentive eyes trying so desperately to figure out what you’re trying to say. Your fingers grip the counter and your heels push back into the ground so your head can bow down to the ground; if you’re going to say it, you don’t want to look at him, “I haven’t missed a period since I was 14. You could set a clock on it. I should’ve had it three fuckin’ weeks ago, Joel.” His silence is deafening. There’s no elation, there isn’t any regret though either, and if you know Joel like you think you do he’s probably going through the same thought process as you are. Thinking about where the supplies are going to come from, how the baby is going to be born, babies had been born since the outbreak it wasn’t unheard of but he wasn’t exactly carrying a four leafed clover. Except you knew Joel’s history, you knew he had lost a child, you knew he had struggled to bond with Ellie when they first met, you knew how reluctant he had been to open his heart up to being a father again when he felt himself getting closer to her. But he was a dad now, her dad; they had a strange relationship and they cursed at each other and played at roughhousing in the living room, they’d zing each other and then laugh about it afterwards, but Joel tucked her in every night and he listened to her problems and helped her with homework, and hugged her so tightly when her emotions got too big for her to voice. You take a breath and it shakes in desperation, fighting to keep your shit together as you felt his gaze burning into you, “Say something Joel, for fucks sa–” “It’s going to be fine.” There was that asshole voice you thought he had given up when you had settled down in Tommy’s town, you had to pull yourself upwards to look at him because you did not believe a single syllable that came out of his mouth. Not in that flat, robotic tone. That wasn’t a reassurance that was a reaction. That was just something he was saying to make you feel better, it wasn’t something he believed. Suddenly, his jagged expression softened and he pushed his jaw out slightly, his eyes got bigger and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He repeats himself, “It’s going to be fine.” this time he sounds so sure. He sounds like he has a plan, he sounds like he’d walk through gunfire for you. “Let me – Let me talk to Tommy; See what kinda resources they have, maybe they got one’a those ultrasound machines,” he starts rushing, grabbing his boots and trying to put them on without sitting down which does nothing for his back, “then we’ll know for sure.” You blink hard, you haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode. “I’m sorry.” you whisper the words but he doesn’t hear you. “I’ll be back.” he kisses your cheek and then he’s gone. You picture a world before the outbreak, where Joel never endured all that trauma and you tell him you think you’re pregnant and his face lights up and he picks you up and spins you around and offers to book your first scan. You’d spend hours on the couch talking about nursery ideas and baby names, and tell him not to get his hopes up in case you’re not actually pregnant but he just scoffs. Before the outbreak, you would’ve told Joel you thought you were pregnant and he would’ve been an excitable dad of two. In the outbreak, you told Joel you thought you were pregnant and his first instinct was how to survive it. You sit on the couch with your arms wrapped around you and wait for him to come back. A million thoughts swirling around in your mind about every possible outcome of this, you tried your hardest to focus on the ones that ended happily, but without Joel there it was hard. “Come on.” You jump at the sound of Joel’s voice, your eyes finding a clock to see how long you had been sitting in your thoughts as he pulls you up off the couch. He’d come back at least. “Put your shoes on, darlin’. The hospital has an ultrasound, they’re callin’ for a nurse to meet us there.” It wasn’t much of a hospital, it was a bakery they had used for medical supplies. There was a refrigerator and storage large enough for medicines but it was a glorified med-bay at best. Nothing bad enough happened in Jackson for them to need a full hospital, if it did they’d have to drive out of town, and if they were lucky they'd make it in time to return for them to recover at home. In the 8 months you’d lived there, the worst thing that had happened was Mr Jellinsky getting chased out of the chicken coop by a pissed off rooster. He tripped and got his ass bit right between the cheeks and Joel laughed and said, “There’s a dick joke to be said, but I ain’t gon’ be the one to say it.” and you had never heard him sound more Southern. “Joel, what–” You didn’t know how that sentence ended. What if you are pregnant? What if you died in childbirth leaving him a single father of two? What if you weren’t pregnant? What are you going to do with a baby? “Put your shoes on.” He moved to grab your shoes from the door and brought them to your feet. “Joel—” He bent down and picked your feet up off the ground one by one to slip them into your sneakers, “You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing right now, okay? Let’s just let the nurses look at’cha and then we’ll talk.” “Are you scared?” Joel stood up and scoffed a little, he looked at you with those heavy brown eyes once again searching for your soul,reading you like a book. There was a time when he would’ve lied and tightened his jaw and said no, but not these days. “Sweet thing, I’m terrified. Let’s go.” It wasn’t at all far for you to walk from your little cabin-like home to the place you needed to be, Joel slipped his hand into yours half way there and you found such comfort in the way his large hands enveloped yours. You had never noticed how many babies were in Jackson until now, and the parents all seemed content with their lives here. As you laid back on the gurney and answered the nurse’s questions, you occasionally glanced over at Joel. He’s been here before and he’s trying to figure out how to be there again, his teeth are chewing on the inside of his cheek, you’re desperate to know if he’s more anxious to hear a yes or a no. “Have you had any other symptoms besides your period being late?” You shrug and shake your head, you’ve never been pregnant before so you don’t know what ‘symptoms’ means in this case. “Have you been peeing more than usual? Any nausea in the morning?” You try to remember, and shake your head but you really don’t recall. “Any cramping?” You hum and put your hand on your stomach but she bats it away softly so she can pull up your shirt and prepare it for the ultrasound, “I mean, a little but I was just expecting my period so I didn’t really think anything of it…” “Any tenderness or soreness in your breasts?” You shake your head again but Joel clicks his tongue in protest and pipes up in a voice that’s so gravely and sounds like he hasn’t spoken in a week, “You wouldn’t let me touch you last week because you said your nipples were sore.” You take a moment to consider his words and he almost has you convinced that maybe you are pregnant. A cold jelly like substance is dispensed onto your stomach and you gasp and your muscles twitch, the nurse smiles and apologizes. You turn to the screen and Joel moves closer to you. It fills with static that ebbs and flows as the nurse moves the probe around your lower stomach. Even as she explains it to you, you can’t make out what exactly you are looking at but you trust she knows. Then she stops, and Joel sinks to his knees, “This is your uterus–” she gestures on the screen, He wraps both of his hands around yours and brings your knuckles to his lips and you can feel his smile and his heavy breaths as he becomes overcome with emotions. “--- and this little thing here that looks like a peanut…” She didn’t need to finish that sentence for you to know how it ended. The way Joel had reacted, the way it looked on the screen, barely there but very much obvious. Your cargo. You look at Joel as the nurse tells you that you’re pregnant and his eyes are full of tears that he doesn’t allow himself to cry, he’s hiding his mouth behind your hand but his cheeks are dimpled and you know he’s smiling. Relief washes over you and you feel like a fool for doubting him for a second, a fraction of your anxieties lift and you realize he’s with you. When he said it was going to be fine, he meant it.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou smut #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #( love in the middle of a firefight: babydin )#( joel miller: babydin )

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