#and fuck anyone who's offended by that post
Note
I’m starting to think that the kid the lady is next to in that one painting (when the guest are chasing you) is probably not their daughter or someone important, maybe it was a promotional painting to show people thus “hey, look the lady is good with kids!” When the reality couldn’t be further from the truth.
DUDE I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR CENTURIESSSS THAT GIRL IS NOT HER KID BROOOO
Look with all the evidence I've gathered atp I am very convinced that the girl in the painting is her. I am compiling everything in a post to answer another anon rn but I deadass started to dislike any theory involving the concept of the Lady being a mother.
I myself have done this in the past (the parallels between her and the Pretender were not lost on me), but tbh I think she works so much better without having a kid for a multitude of reasons.
She does not like people. She wants to be left alone. To go out there and find someone who would have a child with her -- no actually scratch that, FOR HER TO FIND SOMEONE SHE TOLERATES ENOUGH TO HAVE A CHILD WITH would be out of character considering what we know about her.
^ same reason as to why I think she wouldn't adopt under normal circumstances.
^^ a child under her care would last a maximum of 3 days.
None of the children that were indicated as having relations back to her look like the girl in the painting. RCG's hair are too brownish and too long + how would she leave the Maw? Where would she find a hot air balloon near/on a submarine?, the Pretender is albino + the developers went out of their way to make her face very different from the other kids, the Flashlight Girl looks like any other girl in the Maw because they reused her model + she has 0 relevance before and after that + I think the girl in the painting was slightly remodeled and differently rendered just for the pictures like the other Ladies were resized and had their hairstyles modified.
^ These are all great in AU context, but I think canonically none of them would work/line up. The best bet for daughter title was Six and the developers went out of their way to publicly state that they are NOT related in that way.
IN SAID STATEMENT THE DEVS SAID THAT THERE IS NOTHING MOTHERLY ABOUT THE LADY.
The fact that so many people want to push the mother theory onto her really sounds like a scapegoat to not explore her character further. I would not be as upset if I hadn't seen her be dismissed as just a "heartless mother who hates her daughter/wants their beauty/is envious of her child" and yadda yadda yadda so many times.
Do you know how many times that trope has been done? And for it to be applied to such a layered, complex character as her only traits? That and being vain maybe if you're feeling generous, when the truth is that she is quite literally the most complex LN antagonist -- much like Six is the most complex protagonist. Six and the Lady are/have both been victims of fandom misogyny and it kills me to my core send tumblr post
I'm sorry for the rant. Again, I do enjoy the thought of the Lady being in a motherly role (I HAVE MADE A LADY MOM AU MYSELF) but not if it means assassinating her character. The only Lady assassination I support is the one carried out by Six.
#little nightmares#the lady#six#{my most controversial post#LMAOOO#i am not trying to start fandom discourse by this or anything I am just very passionate about the lady (and six)#i do not mean to offend anyone who does have these theories bc at the end of the day who am i to tell you what to think#on the other hand i am tired of seeing my bbg get watered down... ily bbg you are so complex and so fucked up}#ln meta
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I don't usually make posts when I'm upset about something (or like, at all) but honestly I'm just. Really sick of the Loki fandom as a whole. Like I'm just tired of all the pettiness and bullshit. And tbh it's on both ends of the Loki series/Ragnarok split. Both pros and antis.
This isn't so much a vague post as it's a vent post for me. You see, I've been having these feelings about the Loki fandom overall for months now, and I've seen certain posts from the positive side where I just want to - jump in and say something, or at least speak for myself as an ""anti"" (hate that word btw) bc the amount of generalizing I've seen that goes on over there wrt ppl who dislike the show is just - well it's fucking frustrating. Like it annoys me bc I've heard every dumb overgeneralization since the show first came out, from not wanting Loki to move on bc we're oh-so-traumatized to we're just bitter bc the show didn't go the way we wanted/our hcs of Loki weren't validated, etc.
I think one that annoyed me the most was the claim that ppl who hate/dislike Sylvie as a character do so out of misogyny. And like - maybe there's some truth there wrt how the character/actress tend to be bombarded with gendered slurs, and yes that's not cool, but I've never referred to Sylvie or Sophia as any slur. (In fact I don't even hate Sylvie - what I do hate is how the writers have set her up as a "superior" contrast to Loki, which to me seems very intentional on their part, particularly wrt the Trauma Olympics™ as in "Sylvie had it so much harder" 🙄 - but I digress). Yet I can't help but feel like I'm being lumped in the "antis are misogynists" bin every time I read any of those posts from the pro side, simply bc I dislike the way a character was utilized. The way those posts are written, the way they sound - it's very black and white, overgeneralizing an entire group of fans, there's no nuance or side notes or disclaimers of "hey - I know not all of y'all are like this, this is just about some I've encountered" - not even in the tags, nothing. And I've just wanted so badly to jump in and say: "hey, anti here and I'm not like that" but I refrain, bc I've grown so tired of all the fandom infighting and discourse that I usually don't have the energy to get into it. So when I see someone from that side of fandom jump on a post and say how they dislike being overgeneralized as a fan, and how they feel like they're being misrepresented, or condescended to... I can't help but feel kinda upset by that, ngl. Part of me just wants to say "yes it sucks, but recognize that your side (if not you yourself) does it too. Some of you folks do it too."
Like I've read posts implying/stating that antis who hate the show lack critical thinking skills - and like, look, there might be a bit of truth wrt, say, calling Sylvie an outright abuser (and even I've been a little guilty of agreeing to view her as a person with toxic traits as opposed to the enemy-to-lovers trope she clearly falls into - tho I still can't really fault myself for not being able to take that romance seriously due to how damn rushed and forced it felt - but that's besides the point). But there's just something about the way a lot of these posts are worded, like yes some posts are pretty reasonable, but others are practically dripping with condescending sentiment (for lack of better words) as if we're fucking stupid for having emotional reactions to media as opposed to critical reactions, when isn't that the point of media and art, to illicit emotions? Like yes, the story might be trying to say something (and it might epically fail in doing so, which is how I view the show overall) but it's also meant to move ppl. And if it fails to do so, or it garners an unintended reaction, or the characterization is too inconsistent or the story telling itself is rushed/filled with inconsistencies then can you really blame fans for, well, being blindsided by disappointment/their emotions as opposed to critically analyzing it? And yes I know this is a matter of opinion, but still.
(Like sometimes a story can be extremely well written overall, and very well thought out and fans will just be oblivious to, choose to ignore or even outright refuse to pick up on the symbolism within a story, or the internal motivations/conflicts within a character, or how a character progresses/character arcs in general. Sometimes fans will even completely and intentionally misread a character in their entirety, and the role they play within a story, no matter how skilled and how excellent the writing is within a piece of art. And sometimes fans will just overall fail to realize the major themes/hints that a writer carefully lays out. Yes this is a thing, and one I've been made aware of in the particular fandom that I'm about to join.)
But then there's stories that are just... lazily/half-heartedly written at best, and so I just don't understand where pro stans get off by being condescending to ppl like me who just couldn't be immersed due to all those flaws in storytelling. Especially when I didn't get enough out of it to even see where a lot of these conclusions fans seem to have drawn from it. Like there are some inconsistencies within the story itself, there are things that just don't make a whole lot of sense, there are many contradictions, I didn't just make them up. And again I know, everyone interprets media differently, but I don't really see what a lot of pro fans have taken from the series, bc I personally don't think its there. And I really don't appreciate being thought of as some kind of imbecile for not "getting it" when the media in question is, objectively... not all that great tbh. And I'm being absolutely neutral when I say that, like I'm literally not even hating here.
And like I could've easily have turned around and made a bunch of posts stating how pro fans are "stupid" for putting so much thought into a piece of media I personally find to be stupid or just lacking in general, but I haven't. Bc one: that's a shitty thing to do to ppl, and two: it wouldn't even be true bc so many ppl who I consider very intelligent have enjoyed this show, and do put a lot of thought into analyzing it, so despite me not really seeing where they're coming from I want to respect that. And look, it's not like I haven't had those presumptuous thoughts or knee jerk reactions, bc yeah I am in an echo chamber too, and I'm no saint - I'm definitely human and I've had some overgeneralized, uncharitable takes. But I recognize this about myself, I don't post that shit. Which is why I get so upset when I see so many other fans do just that.
Also there is a definite misuse of the depiction of torture, which is used to convey certain themes, and that's very unfortunate, and IMO very bad writing/storytelling. I probably would've been a little more charitable towards the series overall if the Sif-beatdown timeloop scene had been scrapped altogether like the writers seriously should've considered doing (due to the fact that torture has so many misconceptions and is grossly excused in the majority of media which has unfortunate real world consequences) and instead focus more on Loki confronting his fear of being alone, if that truly is what the intention for that scene was. Like yes, some antis might go overboard wrt the messaging within the show, but when it comes to things like the atrocious time loop scene... that's not a made up thing we just happen to pull out of nowhere, that's something the writers put in there and therefore, yeah that's pretty fucked.
Then on the other side I'll find myself liking a post from a negative series fan bc I'll agree with the overall sentiment of it, only to unlike it right after reading the tags bc they've said something like "ppl who like this show/movie/etc are stupid" or "if you ever defended or even enjoyed TR fuck you" - and like??? WTF. I understand disliking the show or whatever but why the hell would you brush over an entire group of real, actual people as "idiots" for simply liking a piece of media??? Like - do I think the show was a disjointed mess? Yeah, I do. Do I think it was poorly written? Yes. Do I even think the reasoning behind a lot of these writing decisions was really fucking stupid on the creators part (or at the very least, that they failed to convey their ideas clearly)? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean anyone who's ever enjoyed the show is stupid for doing so, and I say this as someone who does have the knee-jerk reaction to go "how could you like that show, it sucked so much!"
But like, at the end of the day I understand that ppl take different things out of media. And just bc you find something so stupid or unwatchable, doesn't mean others will, and that's okay bc ppl are different and have different tastes and IDK how ppl don't fucking get that??? Like why is this even a hot take when it's literally just a fact???
It's shit like this that makes me feel like leaving the fandom all together. Which I don't really want to do, bc despite everything wrong with fandom and despite my own personal disappointment with the latest Loki/Thor franchise installments I still really love Loki as a character, and I still want to write fic revolving him. I even still want to make friends within the Loki fandom bc that's literally why I created this blog in the first place, to befriend other Loki fans, like I could've easily stayed being a lurker within the fandom but regardless I think at this point it's farfetched to want this bc the fandom's just way too split and way too hostile and way too fucking eager to be uncharitable and condescending af. And I'm just tired. I'm just... really really tired of the pettiness, the condescending attitude a lot of fans seem to fucking have for anyone who might think differently from them.
I'm tired of the gatekeeping - on both sides. It's on both sides. Because saying "real Loki fans would never like/defend TR/the show" and "how anyone can claim to be a Loki fan if they hate him/his own show" aren't so far apart from each other, both sentiments basically say the same thing, just from polarized viewpoints.
And I wish more fans would just recognize that.
#Loki fandom negativity#I refuse to tag this as anything else bc this isn't about the show - it's the fandom#look I'm just tired guys#I've been fed up and sick of all the damn fucking pettiness#Maybe I'm being overdramatic here#But in my defense I too am in the middle of experiencing that time of the month...#(I swear this isn't so much about that particular post as it is about all the other posts and nonsense I've seen#and the disappointment I've had with fandom that's just been pent up inside of me)#I know ppl follow me who are really entrenched in the negativity side who might take offense to this#And while I'm not really trying to offend anyone here I don't really want to go on pretending that I'm not kinda upset by all the -#posts and hot takes and hate bashing of fans/folks who might've actually enjoyed the show - bc yeah I hate that damn show too#but I can't help but feel disappointed when ppl start calling folks ''idiots'' and whatnot for enjoying a piece of media#THIS IS A BOTH SIDES ISSUE AND IM FUCKING TIRED OF IT#ALL OF YOU (GENERALLY) FUCKING GATEKEEP THE FANDOM#BOTH CONDESCEND THE OTHER SIDE AND ITS. FUCKING SHITTY#NO IM NOT A MISOGYNISTIC IDIOT WHO'S INCAPABLE OF CRITICALLY ANALYZING A MEDIOCRE/SUBPAR SHOW#AND NO JUST BC I HATE THE SHOW DOESNT MEAN I WANT TO HATEBASH ANYONE WHO ENJOYED IT#PPL ARENT IDIOTS OR STUPID FOR LIKING/DISLIKING A PIECE OF MEDIA FFS#like even discussing with some friends on discord is frustrating when they say things like ''i judge ppl who like the show''#like no. stop doing that shit. dont condescend others like that#if anyone seeing this feels offended and wants to block/unfollow thats okay#ive already made another blog focusing on a completely different fandom#so im probably going to be dipping out of here soon anyway#i just wanted to get this off my chest before doing so#also i know there are some cool ppl here on both sides/in the middle but im just done#i said i wasnt going to talk about the show but then i just went and did so#loki series criticism i guess#might as well title this post 'How to lose friends and alienate loki fans'#tldr: everyone (generally) in this damn fandom is fucking petty and IM TIRED
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every time i think the "staff can do no wrong and any form of complaining or expressing literally anything other than "yaaay love it <3" with no further comments is bashing and literally evil we should never say anything that could even potentially be interpreted as mildly critical ever because ~some artist who worked hard on this is probably reading the forums and might feel bad if we ever express anything but praise~ also we must be constantly positive at all times unless we're passive-aggressively shaming someone for having an extremely polite and apologetically worded criticism and if you ask the staff for literally anything you had better be prepared to preface it with 3 paragraphs of apologizing for breathing air" attitude is bad on tumblr, i take one look at the forums, and holy fucking hell is it SO much worse on site
#i go for years at a time without ever bothering to look at fr forums#and then every time i do i remember why i stopped#it feels like a goddamned cult on there and every time i dip my toes i come out feeling slimy and sick#as if i just spent an hour being aggressively gaslit by my extremely manipulative grandmother#what the fuck is wrong with everyone#i'm glad i decided to keep this creepy fucking fandom at arm's length and mostly just lurk years ago#that place is not a healthy environment for anyone to be in#flight rising#legitimately the single worst fandom i've ever had the misfortune of being adjacent to#and in such a creepy and insidious way too#they'll call you an entitled whiny baby to your face and then convince you it's your fault and you're a horrible person for feeling offende#it feels like being neck deep in the absolute worst kind of preformative sj spaces#you know the ones where everyone interacts primarily via callout posts and there's discourse over if crossdressing is cultural appropriatio#that kind of toxic sj space type energy#but somehow combined with like this weird feeling of being in a mormon church in a deep south town#where all the “nice grandmas” will try to put poison in your food if they find out you're gay or voted blue even one time#and it's somehow gotten SO much worse since the last time i looked on there#they've got people literally apologizing for existing what the fuck how is this normal to any of you people#this is so far beyond toxic positivity it's like. crossbred with passive-aggression and shaming and metastatized into something new entirel#it's terrifying. i hope flight rising never shuts down just so that whatever the fuck this is can stay semi-contained.#pro tip: the more a fandom is universally convinced it's Wonderful and Welcoming the faster you should run the other way#actually good fandoms don't have to constantly reassure themselves and everyone that they're great and perfect and toxicity-free#nor do they react with immediate borderline violence to the slightest suggestion there might be anything wrong with the fandom culture#anything wrong other than “people like you who think there's something wrong with our perfect community” anyway#on that note also any fandom that insistently calls itself a “community” just. yeah. no.#get out while you still can.#fandoms work on corporate logic if they're trying to convince you they're your family or friend that's not just a red flag#that's a whole damn red fabric store
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I need to make more artist friends for my health and wellbeing but I don't ever wanna come off as parasocial or only wanting to befriend someone just because I like their art
Do you see my problem here
#ramblings of an arrow#all the artists I would like to befriend are also ppl who like seem like genuinely neat ppl#based on what ive seen from their non art posts as well#but I dont want to be weird!!!#so I just sit here#it doesnt help that like if I enjoy an artist my brain just assumes they must be like super popular#and obviously therefore would be weirded out by some random follower being like hi i like ur shit also u seem cool#what if we chatted so so casually while we vibed each other out and mayhaps became friends#it also does not help that I have been on the recieving end of being the cool artist someone wants to befriend because they want free shit#and like I WOULD NEVER DO THAY#but I understand the fear on a visceral level#it fucking SUCKS to become friends with someone only to realize down the line they were just using you#for art or clout or whatever#it sucks so much#which is why I am always terrified of coming off that way lolllllll#and like the 2 biggest offenders used me because they knew I was a good storyteller and wanted me to run DnD for them#and then absolutely wrecked those games#and most of my favorite artists are ttrpg artists#so im just sittingggg hereeeee#not wanting anyone to ever think i would do that#pls I just enjoy and appreciate other ppls art and characters#but in a normal way where I dont feel entitled to anyone elses creativity or energy#anyways I am making up problems in my own mind I know this
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people who don't know fucking shit about adderall oughtta keep their fucking mouths shut about adderall
#ppl have no fucking grace w this i swear to god#even ppl you expect to be sympathetic generally have no problem stigmatizing it. you never know#they'll just hit you out of nowhere w the 'oh theyre giving kids who cant sit still meth' oh SHUT the fuck up#theyve never done any research nor do they realize the different types and dosages etc etc#and they dont even consider that they might not see the whole picture#or that theyre OFFENDING ppl. and stigmatizing ALL ppl who are prescribed this life-sustaining medication#seriously i have no patience w this shit#and ppl will say it w their whole chest in broad daylight in front of everyone they know#like it's not a touchy thing. im like do you realize what an asshole you are#but no they never do of course they dont#text post#it's not rebloggable not bc it's not important but bc i dont feel like being nice to anyone on this subject#so i dont want this going out of my sphere where some prick is likely to pick an argument#if i were to make a more public statement id want it to be an eloquent one. and right now im just pissed#and i dont think ill ever want to be eloquent on this topic. it takes a better person than me to have patience on this issue#a better or a more ignorant person like the type of person to piss me off about it in the first place. wellllll
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Legit saw someone on that robot post say they wouldn't want to be a robot and then scolded people with "you need to stop feeling so alienated from your bodies, it's not good for you mentally"
Wow bitch you cured my dysphoria, amazing! Dumbass.
#sorry I'm very moody about posts like that#and attitudes in general that people are awful for wanting different bodies#or that changing your body makes you lose 'humanity' whatever that means#all that shit is made up 'human experience' god shut the fuck up lol#I'm glad you don't hate your body but good lord stop acting like you're more profound than me for it#sorry my own dysphoria apparently offends you personally lmfao christ alive#NO MORE POSTS ABOUT IT I PROMISE#glad to see people agree with me occasionally in the tags tho#tho I'm not sure anyone else actively has my problem. who knows.
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May get spicy and put "antis DNI" in all my bios, not because I'm a pro (I'm not, I just don't see any value in circlejerking on the theme of how other people's squicky fetishes and fixations are sooo gross and evil and bad and dangerous uwu*), but because I have yet to meet a self-proclaimed anti who isn't a sanctimonious, bossy little proto-Karen shitbag
#if this post offends you. good. get the fuck out and don't bother leaving me an anon on your way.#don't get me wrong this is not a safe space for devout pros either#on an ideal day i soend exactly ZERO time thinking about i.ncest or r.ape or pe.do or whatever the fuck. anyone who changes that either by#talking excessively about how gross they find it or how hot they find needs to have that conversation about 591332 miles away from me#because i am not having it
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something must be in the water here because….
#first that post from someone outside the fandom circulating which isn’t exactly newsworthy but is annoying#but then a ‘2020s does 1930s does romanticized antebellum south’ doll?? girl be fucking for real.#sorry if scarlett inspired u as a kid but go watch the movie as an adult and BE FUCKING SERIOUS like …#‘if i offended you…’ SHES A SLAVEOWNER IN THE KKK#i swear to GOD some people#putting this in the tags bc im not starting arguments with anyone who doesnt have the very basic media literacy needed to understand why#LITERALLY GONE WITH THE WIND#is not an inspirational book or movie.#like sorry but there isnt an excuse as this point. it isnt subtle
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i hope that in the wake of predstrogen/predesterone's back-to-back deletion we don't forget about the ongoing building wave of seemingly organic transmisogyny from the userbase leading up to it, some of which may or may not have been the result of terf psyops but all of which certainly wouldn't have been possible without the eager participation of a significant proportion of users, including but probably not limited to:
the entire concept of transandrophobia (if this offends you, think long and hard about why you want so badly for it to be real)
the ongoing backlash against the terms tme and tma (if they offend you, think long and hard about why they might have practical value to trans women and people with similar social positionality)
the ongoing trend of trans women's blogs getting flagged on the flimsiest of pretenses and generally receiving far more scrutiny for "adult content" than anyone else's
the seeming unironic revival of "baeddel" as a slur for outspoken trans women, on the basis of a long-dead clique that, ironically enough, self-applied the long-dead (and tbf, etymologically questionable) slur from the middle ages to reclaim it
the entire "trans women should be fucking trans men instead of complaining about transmisogyny" genre of post
the backlash when tgirls finally started calling out the aforementioned bullshit
the copypasted anons sent to several trans women (many of whom were lesbians) sexually harassing them and threatening corrective rape for calling out the aforementioned bullshit
the backlash when tgirls called the aforementioned bullshit sexual harassment
the expansion of flexible queer label use (which to be clear, i am generally all for) to include "afab trans women", muddying the waters and making transmisogyny harder to articulate
the backlash when tgirls started calling out the aforementioned bullshit
the aita incident in which a trans woman described a cis woman claiming to be a trans woman in a group chat and giving other trans women terrible medical advice based on no actual qualifications or experience, and got a huge backlash for warning them about the aforementioned bullshit despite the stakes of, you know, following terrible medical advice
everything from the sixth point onward happened within the past... week? two weeks? my sense of time is a bit fuzzy. who knows what the rest of this week has in store?
people on this website are so incredibly hostile to trans women even being able to name our own oppression, let alone resist it in any concrete way. and i know it's not just this website. don't you get tired of the crab bucket bullshit? holy fucking shit.
like, i've been lucky, i've overwhelmingly managed to dodge it (probably on account of frankly being a pretty boring and inconsistent poster). this time last year, i was actually bored that i didn't have anons in my inbox to argue with. but i've seen it happen to so many other women now, it's absurd. even if it never hits you personally, you can never shake the awareness that it's happening to so many of the cool girls on here, people you like and whose posts you laugh at and who you look up to. they just kinda seem to drop like flies over time. don't you get tired?
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[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).
series masterlist
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It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.
Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes.
You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous.
It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.
“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!”
Daniel only laughed harder.
It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour.
“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”
“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”
The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”
“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”
“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”
“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”
“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.
Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!”
“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”
Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”
“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response.
“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.”
“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.
“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.
You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.”
Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”
“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.
“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him.
“We got excited!” You defended.
“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered.
“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.
“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.
“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”
As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.
Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend.
You were very wrong.
...
...
You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend.
With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead.
There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.
“There’s two!”
Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.
“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”
You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?”
“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.”
You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.”
“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.”
“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned.
“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”
You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”
“Hey,” Logan frowned.
“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell.
Alex snorted.
“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face.
“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.”
“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes.
“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.”
Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.”
“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes.
And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down.
...
...
It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted.
It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness.
It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible.
Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you.
Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix.
You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy.
It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track.
So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend.
Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it.
“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”
“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”
“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours.
“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,��� you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”
“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again.
“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses.
“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass.
In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.
“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!”
“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”
If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you.
You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.
“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.
“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod.
“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”
Logan hesitated. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.
Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips.
Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”
“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly.
You blinked. “Huh?”
“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?”
Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?”
“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face.
You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?”
“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article.
“WHAT?!”
“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”
You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?”
“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.
“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?”
As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice.
This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.
“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.”
“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.”
“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”
“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”
“Well, he definitely takes after you!”
Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.
“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”
Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”
“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.”
“Oh,” Oscar murmured.
“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.
“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.”
“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”
Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”
“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”
Lando only laughed harder.
“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.
You shook your head.
“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”
“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”
“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.
“Still.”
“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”
Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”
“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”
You rolled your eyes.
...
liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others
landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?
view all 15,866 comments
user aww cute!
user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT
user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family
yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)
oscarpiastri ew
yourusername you're too young to be on instagram
logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram
yourusername you're grounded
user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS
user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf
user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS
maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere
danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second
yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa
danielricciardo GRANDPA???
user nothing will ever beat this rumour
user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID
user TWO KIDS
user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN
landonorris 👀👀👀
.
#lando norris#formula one#f1#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot
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fall into temptation | one
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader
series masterlist l next chapter
summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 8.4k
Jackson, Wyoming
Fall 2024
Joel had seen him around the community before.
He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.
Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?
Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.
Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.
Joseph? Was that it?
He couldn’t be certain.
Not that Joel really even cared to know his name.
It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face.
Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.
In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.
But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?
They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.
Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them.
The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that.
Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened.
All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?
“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”
She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah.
He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”
His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing.
“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”
His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.
“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”
Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”
He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”
“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him.
“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”
Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”
“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”
“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”
“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath.
“What was that?”
He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol.
Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.
Shit.
He’d been caught gawking.
He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late.
Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head.
Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.
Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse.
Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.
“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”
Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”
Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”
“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”
“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”
You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.
“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”
Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.
“She really as innocent as she seems?”
“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig.
Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly.
“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”
Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?”
Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”
“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”
He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”
Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”
Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”
“And the old man doesn’t know?”
“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”
He smirked. “Which part?”
“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”
“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”
“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”
He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”
“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”
“How’s she been holdin’ up?”
“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”
Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door.
As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.
You were leaving. Alone.
In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?
She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself.
Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.
Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet.
Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening.
Kent was going after you.
Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.
Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.
Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around.
You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent.
That couldn’t fucking be good.
“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.
That’s when he heard it.
The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh.
“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”
Red.
It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs.
“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”
“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”
Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”
The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two.
Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist.
“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”
You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.
A single tear slipped down the side of your face.
“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”
“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.
But he’d heard it loud and clear.
“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”
Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.
If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard.
Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face.
“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”
He nodded. “Un—Understood.���
“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”
Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley.
Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more.
Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.
You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.
Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you.
You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet.
“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it.
“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”
Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”
Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”
“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.
Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”
Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest.
Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you.
You really were too good.
“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”
“Please?”
That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.
Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face.
“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”
“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.
“That really ain’t necessary.”
“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”
There it was again.
Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours.
Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”
Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”
When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards.
Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.”
You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”
“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.”
You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”
Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”
“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”
“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”
You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you.
“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”
His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”
“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”
You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?
Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”
“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?”
“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.”
“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.
Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”
Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin.
Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side.
“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted.
You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”
Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship.
You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring.
“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls.
There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk.
“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”
“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered.
Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”
You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”
You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.
There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar.
It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else.
Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.
He averted his eyes, turning away from it.
Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world.
A fucking slab of carved wood.
Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.
God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13
“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.
“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder.
“No offense taken, Joel.”
Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”
“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”
He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”
Smiling politely, you told him your name.
Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.
“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”
His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.
Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt.
Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers.
“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church.
You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.
“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.
Your answer took him by complete surprise.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.
“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”
“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”
“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”
“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”
“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger.
“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”
“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”
You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.
“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”
“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly.
“Joel—”
“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”
Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words.
You had never thought about it like that before.
Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him.
He was right, after all.
Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”
You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”
“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”
“What is it?”
Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”
Oh. That’s what he meant.
“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”
He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”
You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”
“The wrong path?”
You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”
“By controllin’ you.”
It had been a statement, not a question.
Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”
There was another short bout of silence.
Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone.
He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.
Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.
His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.
Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse.
“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”
“S’right.”
You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”
Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee.
“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”
“Why not?”
His answer was honest. “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”
Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.
Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.
Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables?
“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone.
Want, sure.
He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther.
But Joel didn’t just want you.
He fucking needed you.
And he didn’t know why.
“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain.
Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?”
You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you.
You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”
Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek.
Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body.
Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”
“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”
“I—I want you to kiss me.”
Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours.
You heard him chuckle softly.
“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”
“Please.”
“S’much better.”
Your heart pounded with anticipation.
It was almost too much for you to handle.
Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.
It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss.
The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.
What the fuck had he been thinking?
And what about you?
Where the fuck had your common sense gone?
Probably ran off together with Joel’s.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”
You were having none of it.
None.
Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench.
“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”
Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss.
Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours.
“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”
Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”
Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you?
He couldn’t. Simple as that.
“You sure ‘bout this?”
Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”
Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself?
Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit.
His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further.
Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance.
You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat.
Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt.
“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline.
Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”
Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.
“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”
You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise.
“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”
“You, Joel. I need you.”
His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt.
Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else.
You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.
“Darlin’ are you—?”
You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.
Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t.
Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”
“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”
You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud.
“You’re a what?”
Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.
“Turn around, sweet girl.”
Joel’s command was firm but still gentle.
Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest.
“Look at me.”
You tried, but couldn’t.
“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”
He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.
Close, but somehow not close enough.
Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.
You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson.
The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God.
You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.
“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”
“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”
“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”
Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”
“No, what?”
“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”
Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?”
You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.
“Yes, please.”
“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?
He almost laughed at your expression.
“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”
“But Joel—”
“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”
Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.
“Of course,” you breathed.
You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.
#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller series#joel miller story#joel miller self insert#the last of us fic#pedro pascal characters#fic: fall into temptation
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ㅤdorm leaders being savages
summary. basically some backstabber mf tries to 'steal' him and... this is where the savage part starts
featuring. dorm leaders
content. bad friend, gender neutral reader, brutal rejection 😭
note. a full post after a while :')
malleus
I mean it's not like he would notice anyways, again. I firmly believe human and fae courting traditions are vastly different and c'mon... he doesn't even know what the fuck flirting is do you really think he'd get their intentions. 💀
when they start to slide up an arm in places he's quite bothered about, (cause guy is so whipped that he won't let anyone but him touch you.) he isn't even happy that someone is near his proximity anymore, not scared and whatnot.
just he no likey.
AND HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE ROMANTIC HE JUST SHRUGS THEM OFF EVERYTIME. he's just a genuine innocent lil' dude who wants his lover to come and save him from this touchy, weird, human.
no child of man cause that's your name ‼️
while he may not get it, he's got a feeling, sixth sense of sorts and when he sees it he's backing tf up away. he's not gonna entertain the doubts.
also he still doesn't get it in the end lmaoooo, he's avoiding all their advances thinking it's a part of human... culture? that he wasn't made aware of.
if they start putting in the forbidden words in the same sentence as your name you know shits going down, suddenly he's not that confused, oblivious, cute guy that they saw but a much colder shell.
when his eyes darken, and it starts storming they'd had better run, he's been kind enough to stay even with their relentless annoying behavior but that is where he crosses the line fr.
don't even be surprised when they get hit by lightning and end up in the infirmary or something, malleus didn't even say anything to them cause he believes actions speaks louder than words... *sends touchy, weird human to the nurse.* see?
someone insults him: ?
someone insults you: 😠😡🤬👿🌩⚡
just goes: "your friend is very unpleasant, I'd appreciate it if you refrain from spending time with them."
something unsaid; spend all of that time with me duhhh
idia
you know what I'm surprised someone actually likes him tbh 😭 except us because we're all built different and we love disgustang discord mod behavior.
you know what's even more surprising? the fact that idia is actually seen by your friend group. I swear he comes out of his room like once a day and that's just because he's craving something else that isn't in his food stock and he's just gonna rob whose mac n' cheese was in the microwave.
and that's literally in his DORM ONLY.
he's like a vampire and allergic to sunlight, he's more willing to come out in the middle of the night because that's when the least 'normies' are scattered around like flies.
(if that counts for anything at all??)
but hanging out is more fun and if you somehow managed to convince idia to come with you with your friends for some well needed, 'socializing' then you're in luck!
besides that you had to bet one of your items in that open world game you played together... all is good!
im like 99% sure idia is disgusted by any other touch from other people, besides you? cause if you touch him he's just embarrassed... but in terms of the disgusted faction, you've been there before.
he immediately spots their intentions cause he definitely plays otome games and this is one of them cliche scenarios to 'spice up' the plot by invoking jealousy in it.
only difference is its him, you and this... random.
if they weren't already offended by the absolute mortification and disgust on his face, somehow continuing to 'rizz' him up.. oh boy. it's gonna get worse.
he's got the worst fucking 3rd grade insults like... "back away from me you noob, are you supposed to be their friend?" he scoffs, surprising them cause they thought he was gonna be that red flag discord romance experience.
"sorry but im not really sorry. i don't associate myself with lower levels such as yourself, try to come back when you're higher but I doubt they'd accept a fiend back."
LIKE WHO USES NOOB AS AN INSULT?
when you come back he's steering you away, pulling on the hem of your sleeves practically begging to come home with the promise of 'grinding that outrageous drop rate item you've asked his help with.'
something unsaid; doxxing them as soon as I get back
vil
ok this one I get.
who wouldn't want vil... it's not like I've made the entirety of the fandom known about my obsession with him as my favorite character or anything, not at all... jokes aside he's a very prominent candidate, he's hot and rich. you get it?
forget about the other qualities because we all known those two can carry someone in life alone, life in luxury and fame? sign them up ASAP.
besides your boyfriend being one of the superstar actors, models, the dream jobs for a dream man even your friends had a hard time believing you. you should be offended that they even considered that you were clinically.. delusional.
plus you didn't even seem to know about vil before so how are you dating him?!
they found out the hard way and safe to say they're flabbergasted because what even?
of course out of everyone here, vil has the most experience in terms of being approached on a baseless appearance only, he's iffed by how fast people get infatuated when they're barely scratching the surface of him.
well, you somehow dug your way deep with a shovel so you're the only exception he will allow...
at this point he knows what to expect the moment one of your friends gave him a look he's all the well too accustomed to. it's easy to ignore the ones he sees in crowds cause there's always some type of fence blocking them from fully proclaiming their love or something.
problem here is that this person has no obstacles and he can tell they're waiting for an opportunity to strike like a snake. *texts the pomefiore gc to tell them about this SNAKE!*
honey this is a big NO for him, you need to consider your circle of friends if one of them immediately starts folding around like this and wastes what? a longer friendship with you? please, he's known his stylists more and they literally get replaced every single day.
he's giving them the biggest, sassiest side eye ever. putting a palm up before they even get to speak because frankly, he does not want to hear it.
they open their knarly mouth. "i—"
he raises a finger. "no."
a frown. "but i—"
"shush."
he can do this forever.
when you come back he's still giving a bombastic, criminal offensive side eye, mentally thinking on how to ruin this person's life in media of course! his natural domain. just one word and the rest of his army will attack fr.
vil usually doesn't do this but seriously? that was another level of low.
also he's just by your side, you don't even have to say that he's your boyfriend because he's lowkey rubbing it in their face that he is in fact, taken.
"next time you try to see me again, might as well buy one of the tickets to my fan signings because you’re not seeing me again otherwise.. well, not like you can afford it anyways." *fabulous hair flip*
something unsaid; either way I'll kick you out if you try to get in
kalim
most safest person to flirt with, even if you're friends with their lover but also the most impossible to actually try and 'steal.'
the thing about kalim is that he's adorably stupid, not to degrade him in any shape or form but he's so oblivious about everything that you could consider it as one of his redeemable traits to be adorable.
he takes everything you say so seriously to the point where if you joke about wanting to water an entire continent he's just there with his carpet waiting for you cause he's gonna do exactly that.
"you're in luck cause I have a lot of water in me!" pops his non existent guns on his arms. (he is talking about his unique magic..)
it takes a remarkable mind to be like... that but you like him all the well about it, compliment his stupid-ness and he'll just grin, flush a little and laugh loudly as he compliments you back. not an ounce of anger in his tiny body.
red eyes but what a bright heart!
the type of guy that goes. "any friend of yours is a friend of mine!" so when he meets your friend group, casually just throws them a grand ball. they don't know whether to be flattered or.. concerned cause this is pretty weird.
not only was one of your friends awed over the mere value of many things inside the dorm he renovated, apparently his very huge bank full of gold was something to gasp over too.
and that's exactly what they did. (I mean get that bag sis but that bag is already owned by someone else and that's you... so that's not slay of you, random friend.)
here's when his nature proves to be quite relenting, even after many flirting, even using those cringe pickup lines from the internet, he just won't budge! it's getting irritating cause they're sure the people already heard the embarrassing words coming out of their mouth.
also that they were flirting with a non-legally married man. (to you ofc ofc.)
kalim either laughs at them because he thinks they were jokes, and just funny or laughs just because he's kalim.
he didn't really mind the casual touches at first, maybe it was friendly? he does it all the time after all but there was a stinking feeling that it felt weird and that alone was weird cause friendly pats were supposed to feel good.
not with you though cause those feel great!
accidentally shuts them down cause they're feeling like a third wheel when you come back after a bathroom break and it's like a total contrast to how he was treating them.
how do you seriously not notice kalim now unintentionally flirting with you?! are both of you airheads?!
he was literally all over you when you quipped up a "hi, I'm back."
and he was like; "welcome back :DDDD!!!!" if it wasn't already obvious they'd even add floating hearts emojis all over his head.
something unsaid; girl he didn't even notice anything was up...
azul
kinda a 50/50?
I'm not sure if most people really dig the whole 'bad reputation' thing. he's friends with the most terrifying twins in the entire campus, notably scammed a lot of people, can give wishes with an extreme price.
oh yeah he runs monstro lounge too but that just means he won't have time to spend with a lover.
that's their own imagination but azul's actually very sweet and gets some overworked junior to do the work for him, usually jade since floyd just leaves if he's given the job. JUST so he can go fret over which tie to use for your unofficial date.
despite him annoyed and losing sleep 24/7 because of the tweels he still asks them which one to use, jade's opinion is most trustworthy since floyd picks the neon, vibrant ones. (don't question why he even owns it.)
I doubt he actually likes people though, anyone else than you? hard pass. he's a simp through and through but unlike idia who can't mask the mortification and disgust on his face even at the cost of his life, good thing that masks are one of the many things azul is good at.
he slips up sometimes cause he genuinely thinks it's embarrassing that they're doing whatever this is to him, (well more of an attempt?) and to you, who is also their friend and his lover.
slip up as in his eye twitches, he flinches away a little too fast when they touch him, and his smile wobbles.
I mean no one would notice if he uses his magic on one, singular person...
mentally makes a note to remember whoever this was cause they're not stepping foot in octavinelle ever again.
+ an object of fun for the tweels. #gotormentthatlife!!
he's just a polite guy, so he won't just straight up insult them but he does warn them. the only thing holding him back from cooking a whole table is the crowd that would definitely spread the news of him going batshit.
like; "could you please, stop this? I hope you're not as stupid as you make yourself out to be because if you think I'm an idiot to not know what you're doing.. "
meanwhile his mind; "ugh this bitch. [redacted] [redacted] [redacted]."
I mean he's not that intimidating ALONE but when he gets all threatening like that (🥰) he could pass for an assassin fr.
just gets the tweels to deal with them cause he does not have the patience to deal with this backstabbing ho and it's wasting his precious time that should have been spent talking with you.
ugh he did not spend like 30 whole minutes picking out his tie and gloves just for this.
azul when he sees you coming back: 😇
something unsaid; [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].
leona
oh boy, cover your eyes cause we're stepping onto another level of SAVAGE. you don't call lions that for NOTHING ‼️ beastman or just beast.
has the least filter out of everyone, as in he just doesn't give a single fuck, he's the chillest (agressive) guy on the twst planet so if the thought of wanting to insult some stranger that doesn't have a significance in his life at all pops up in his mind he ain't gonna change it lol.
gives the stinkiest eyes, even his tail and ears pause to synchronize with his thoughts cause if they had googly eyes they'd have a side eye too.
if he's laying down and they try pulling him upwards, tryna latch onto him? *just shoves them cutely.* problem solved.
leona's nice enough to let them off without losing something cause you really do mean something to him if he's holding back for your expense knowing that this is one of your 'friends.'
they don't even deserve to be called that!
like no one interrupts his peaceful nap times except for when he stands up to interrupt it himself just to drag you down with him.
wait so basically anyone but him???
he, really doesn't want to waste energy on this fool and to be honest they're really boring him since you went out to grab something you forgot. (but knowing this person for less than an hour in his life, they probably had something to do with that too.) so you aren't here to give him a reason to stay awake.
them rambling but in leona's eyes they're a blurry figure cause he's really sleepy.
then suddenly he's an iphone promax when he's looking at you 💀
if they already didn't take a hint from his earlier shove, the dirt isn't the only thing he's gonna shove someone into. there's a lake there for a reason other than keeping a home for the fishes y'know. never would know if they eat people too. /j
"would you shut up?"
yeah that's all he says but we all know how sharp it is to hear that from somebody so they immediately shut up. there's absolutely no need for any waste on energy of them, just one look from him and they're SILENT.
hopefully embarrassed too cause wtf was that??
unfortunately he can't fully enjoy his usually relaxing nap cause this random is corrupting the atmosphere even when they're silent, I swear they could shift and leona feels like one step closer to smacking 'it.'
ignored them every single time they tried to call out to him LOUDLY before but when you just silently step back on the field, he already peeks out an eye??? like no words needed.
what love does to a mf... sighs... another cold male lead we've lost to romance because of our mc <4
something unsaid; I was really questioning if keeping myself from strangling someone was worth it. took more effort than doing it literally
riddle
I'd have a crush on him too tbh.
unlike azul who already knew their intentions from the start, polite enough to kindly drop signs that he's not interested. riddle doesn't get it, he's just polite as well but also confused?
like he doesn't know they're tryna flirt, but he does think their actions are strange like c'mon. why are they trying to feel him up? he has no idea except the thought that he doesn't like it at all.
also it feels like he's betraying you so he just straight up pulls their arm away off of him firmly and shakes his head.
"stop this behavior."
he sighs.
surprisingly he's patient but also impatient???
consider this the first and last warning cause he WILL excuse himself if it ever goes on, riddle can wait for you browse through a whole store with him following you around and playfully commenting on your taste but can't wait for their attitude to get better.
he ain't gonna waste any more of his precious minutes on this period.
I don't know how to explain it, he's totally unaware of what they want, which is him ironically. but the reason he's rejecting their advances is because he's so devoted and a simp for you.
not a lot of people have the balls to converse or touch around him carelessly like that so freely so isn't it basic human courtesy to hold off all the physical affection till they're more acquainted?
well, not that riddle's not gonna let their current relationship advance any further from strangers at this point...
he's so loyal to you that it's cute jabskans.
riddle sticks to his principles, and he certainly has his own preferences for the personality of people. one of the traits he despises is when they don't understand his earlier warnings.
of course riddle isn't very forgiving, they're lucky they were even given a chance before cause even he, doesn't spare his dorm members a second chance when they break a rule he's been plenty lenient with.
so if you were given a chance, you better take it cause he's not giving you another.
like how since you did take your chance he's not gonna let you go now 😍.
isn't the type to be rude to people for matters he deems conflict being easily avoidable so he just makes up a believable excuse and walks away loool.
and they're like thinking; didn't he say he was tired and had to sleep since he stayed up planning the unbirthday party... why is he having a tea date with you???
suddenly he didn't look too tired at all compared to when he randomly slumped to look exhausted before??
something unsaid; 🥰🍵 what a successful unbirthday party *forgets about them immediately cause you're both having an unofficial date.*
note. ok so something unsaids are basically that but don't misunderstand, it's something they didn't say.
#twstnexus#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twst fluff#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia#x gn reader
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━╋ MY RIGHT TO BE HELLISH
jealous by nick jonas
summary: In which famous actress y/n y/l/n was seen at a Canucks game, which sparks rumors. (part 1/4)
pairings: quinn hughes x actress!reader.
platonic!jack hughes x reader. social media au
faceclaim: dove cameron
next part
newestupdates
newestupdates: Actress y/n y/l/n spotted at the lastest Canuck’s vs Ducks game wearing an old Quinn Hughes jersey! Opinions?
tagged: yourusername
liked by canucks, njdevils, and more
user1: i say we i don’t know, leave her alone and let her live her life?? 😭
liked by yourusername.
yourusername: i was invited to the game, so i attended, i was also PROVIDED with the jersey. don’t stretch it.
↳ canucks: thank you for attending! we are sorry this got out of hand!
↳ yourusername: not your fault what’s so ever! things are always blown out of proportion. canucks
user2: wait her and quinn would be cute??
↳ user3: he plays hockey, and she acts 💀 they’d never have time to themselves.
user4: you guys post anything at this point. y/n can’t even go to a hockey game in PEACE ☹️
user5: puck bunny
↳ yourusername: i’ve watched hockey since i was a kid, i am not a puck bunny, and can 100% guarantee i know more about the sport than you do. thank you for your input though, johnathan!
↳ user6: she ate i fear. (i do not fear. we all knew she would) yourusername
user7: _quinnhughes
yourusername
yourusername: thank you @canucks for the amazing opportunity! i loved every minute of this game. and we won 8-3?? 🤔 #gocanucks
liked by canucks, lhughes_06, and more
njdevils: come to a devils game next? 🫣
↳ yourusername: lmk when and where & im there!
user8: i know you guys see luke lurking in her likes. i cannot be the only one 😭😭
↳ user9: thought i was going INSANE STOP
lhughes_06: _quinnhughes HELLO? YOU WERE IN THE SAME ARENA AS Y/N Y/L/N AND DIDNT THINK TO TELL ME?
↳ _quinnhughes: i have no idea who this is luke
↳ yourusername: slightly offended, quinnifer _quinnhughes
jackhughes: yeah come on over to a devils game, we’ll actually acknowledge you
↳ yourusername: like i said, when & where and i’m there jack (:
user10: Y/N GOING TO A DEVILS GAME
user11: how does quinn NOT know y/n
↳ lhughes_06: my thoughts exactly
user12: lukey boy is LURKING 👀
canucks: we loved having you! hope to see you again very soon, y/n!!
↳ yourusername: i love whoever runs this account
user13: the way she didn’t tag anyone in these pictures 😭
↳ yourusername: they don’t need tags (:
↳ user14: LMFAOOA SHE SAID FUCK THEM HOCKEY PLAYERS FR yourusername
liked by yourusername.
njdevils
njdevils: since q. hughes didn’t appreciate ms. y/l/n. these hughes’ will 😈 #GONJDEVILS
tagged: l_hughes, yourusername, jackhughes
liked by jackhughes, yourusername, and others
user15: DEVILS AND CANUCKS BEEF??
↳ user16: more like jack & luke vs quinn beef 😭
yourusername: was an honor! i absolutely adore the jacket, thank you guys so much. <3
↳ canucks: the betrayal.
↳ yourusername: quinn didn’t even know who i was, do you guys even love me 💔 canucks
user17: the picture of her and jack GUYS STOP
↳ user18: why do i ship them.. 🙃
↳ user19: no i completely get it. user18
↳ user20: no?? they make no sense.. user19
jackhughes: YUP WE LOVE AND APPRECIATE Y/N OVER HERE canucks _quinnhughes can you guys relate?? 🤔 didn’t think so
↳ canucks: you are EVIL jack hughes.
_quinnhughes: i didn’t know a girl once now my team is beefing with my brothers’ team. great.
↳ yourusername: i apologize, i tried to tell them to be nice ☹️
↳ _quinnhughes: not your fault my brothers are evil yourusername
user21: okay but the jacket is fire
↳ yourusername: exactly! never taking it off
↳ canucks: traitor! yourusername
user22: jack and luke look so GOOD
↳ user23: LITERALLY WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT IT??
user24: jack and y/n, quinn and y/n that, WHAT ABOUT LUKE AND Y/N GUYS HEAR ME OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
↳ _quinnhughes: she’s too pretty for either of them
*this comment has been deleted.*
user25: I KNOW YOU GUYS SAW THAT??
↳ user26: ARE WE TRIPPING????????
next part
turning this into a story, how we feel? 🫣 it’s definitely going to be a short one, i’ll possibly go longer ones in the near future, but not right now! feel free to request anything!
check out my navigation, here!
check out my nhl masterlist, here!
#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes#new jersey devils#vancouver canucks#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl x reader#nhl#nhl hockey#hockey x reader#hockey#hockey x you#social media au#instagram au#instagram#social media#trevor zegras#trevor zegras x reader#trevor zegras x y/n#trevor zegras x you#jamie drysdale
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keep it on the low
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company
warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism
word count: 3k
a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!
Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.
Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?
Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.
You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.
And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.
You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.
Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.
The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.
“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”
He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.
“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You’re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.
You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.
You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”
He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”
You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.
Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.
“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
He doesn’t.
Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.
“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”
He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.
"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.
“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.
"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.
“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.
"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”
His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.
“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.
“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.
“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”
And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.
Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.
More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.
He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.
His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.
You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.
"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.
He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.
"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"
You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.
And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.
"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."
You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.
"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.
But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.
You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.
His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.
It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—
"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.
But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.
"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.
It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.
"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."
It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.
Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.
"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.
"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.
Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.
He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.
"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."
And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.
The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.
"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.
"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.
"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.
No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.
"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"
You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.
"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."
At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.
It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.
Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.
This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.
He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.
Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.
Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.
He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.
And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.
He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.
"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."
You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.
"I'm yours."
thanks for reading! 💕
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller
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𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢
✯social media au
✯oscar piastri x female reader
✯everyone know’s who oscar’s girl is, she makes it known
✯not requested but wanted to pop out an oscar post today! if anyone has any smau requests feel free to pop them in my inbox🩷
y/ninstagram
liked by oscarpiastri, wmagazine, mclaren and 745,000 others
what would i do without the most amazing bf who takes the most amazing pictures of his most amazing gf in the entire world 😁
tagged oscarpiastri
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username why is this caption sending me rn
username nah because she’s SO fine
landonorris this caption is sus, what did you do?
>y/ninstagram what makes you think i did anything norris??
oscarpiastri i love you most amazing gf
oscarpiastri also yeah i know u ate the last cookie
>y/ninstagram i love youuuuuuuuuu🥹
liked by oscarpiastri
username oscar and y/n are legit made for each other idc
y/ninstagram added to their story!
oscarpiastri do you need anything?
y/ninstagram a body that doesn’t hate me?
oscarpiastri kk on it 🫡
y/ninstagram my hero!!!!
oscarpiastri
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throwing it back to F2 to show these pics 100% give off the same energy
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username PLS😭
username y/n looks so done i’m here for it
y/ninstagram you know what…
>oscarpiastri you love me? 😃
y/ninstagram i see how it is
landonorris *saves photo immediately*
>y/ninstagram 😐😐😐
username y/n is gonna be fighting for her life in these comments
mclaren we definitely agree with this caption
liked by oscarpiastri and y/ninstagram
oscarpiastri added to their story!
*comments disabled*
y/ninstagram added to their story!
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y/ninstagram
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the three stooges, idk how i get roped into these things…oh wait i do, because oscar asks and i love him too much to say no😃
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username okay the trio we need
username wait this friend group is EVERYTHING
landonorris don’t lie you loved twister
>y/ninstagram if you love getting ur stinky foot in your face sure
>landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT
lilyhme im living for the chaos
>y/ninstagram save me :)))
username THESE COMMENTS
oscarpiastri thank you for always joining in!!!! ❤️
>y/ninstagram only for you 🙄
oscarpiastri added to their story!
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oscarpiastri
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y/n was offended i called her a gremlin, so i’m here to remind everyone she’s not a gremlin, she’s my very sweet, amazing, loving, caring most beautiful(est) girlfriend ever in the whole world ❤️
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username caption seemed coerced??
>y/ninstagram what are you talking about?
username PLEASE😭
y/ninstagram i didnt force him to say anything
y/ninstagram he’s just really letting everyone know how great i am and how much he loves me🥰
>oscarpiastri 😃😃😃😃
landonorris HAHAHA HIS FACE RN😭
>y/ninstagram send a pic or ur not a real friend
username oh this is fucking hilarious
mclaren is oscar being held against his will?
>y/ninstagram never 🥰
y/ninstagram
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another great gp weekend with the best man ever❤️❤️ (no he was never held against his will😁)
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username these two are endgame for me
username PLS y/n clearing the air yet again
username mother is mothering
oscarpiastri it was a great weekend, minus the kidnapping
>y/ninstagram you’re so dramatic it was not a kidnapping
>landonorris hmm debatable
>y/ninstagram NORRIS
username 😭😭😭
lilyhme chaos again?
>y/ninstagram it never ends:)))
#rueswrites#ruesanswers#ruesanons<3#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x female reader#oscar piastri x girlfriend reader#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri fake social media#oscar piastri fake instagram#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri x wife reader#oscar piastri fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris smau#mclaren f1#formula 1 masterlist#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#ruesasks
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chubby girl chasers??? (jjk men who would LOVE to have a chubby gf!!) part 1 (part 2 link here and it's also at the end)
cw/tw: mentions of body image issues, mentions of nsfw in some (all??) parts, all characters are of age, (idk what else to put but english isn't my first language so sorry for bad writing)
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gojo satoru
if you've ever seen my posts you could've guessed this tbh (I live love laugh gojo) he's so lovely
would hype you up NONSTOP and oh my gosh if you decide to wear more revealing clothes (or clothes that cling to your body) he'd be ON HIS KNEES worshipping you tbh
he just loves your plush and soft body SOO MUCH (he loves you as a person more ofc) but the way he can just come home after a long day and lay his head (or his whole body..) on top of you, he absolutely loves it. he loves all of you, seriously, he sees nothing wrong with you. you're perfect and he definitely tells you that too. not a day goes by without him calling you perfect.
and he loves when you dress up. tight clothes are his favourite because they allow him to see your perfect figure, and don't worry, no one would even have a chance to say anything bad about you or even look at you in a non-positive way. he's the strongest, he'll personally make sure that no one can make you feel bad about yourself.
missionary is his go to position. he wants to see your gorgeous body and gorgeous face as he fucks into you. you feel waaaay too good around him, he thinks he's lucky to be the one who gets to fuck you. you look so beautiful under him (you always look beautiful) and he's so lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like that. he's a praiser in and out of the bedroom, I swear. and if you wrap your legs around his lower body.. he loses it.
(read these fics (fic 1 is my personal fav) if you wanna know how I picture gojo in bed: fic 1, fic 2)
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toji fushiguro
OH he would just love grabbing your plush thighs as he buries his face in between them and eats you out. would make you sit on his face (doesn't care about suffocating, he's strong so you don't weigh anything to him really). would love laying on your soft thighs and your stomach (makes you play w his hair, he's such a softie for you).
if you're insecure about yourself because of your body he'd praise the shit out of you (he'd praise you no matter what you're insecure about, if you're insecure). bro would surprisingly be your personal hype man tbh
"what did you just say about my gorgeous girlfriend? repeat that and you're dead." no one is allowed to say anything bad about you (there's nothing bad in you ((except for him, get it, nothing bad in you and he's bad and he's in you.. yeah not funny is it)) so why would anyone have the right to say anything bad). he makes you wear clothes you want to wear, makes sure you can have the style you want to have because no one should have the right to make you feel uncomfortable in clothes that you love. if you want to wear the tightest clothes there is, do it! he makes sure no one says anything to offend you or make you feel bad. he's famous of being capable of THINGS :heart: so no one would even dare to say anything but positive things about you- there's nothing but positive things about you.
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yuuta okkotsu
bro was in love with a curse I don't think he really cares about looks LMAOO no but this man would literally love you more than anything. your weight is not a problem for him, why would it be? he loves everything about you, your personality, voice, looks, humor, style.. just everything.
his favourite thing is to fall asleep on top of you (his head is usually on top of your chest, stomach or thighs. I don't make the rules, he LOVES falling asleep on you. he's shy with his words tbh but he hypes you up despite that. you're insecure about your body? why? you're perfect, what is there to hate? he doesn't get it, you're the most gorgeous human being in the whole world. (prettier than everything else too, don't get me wrong). and he definitely will tell you what he thinks about you. endless praising tbh
he loves when you ride him; the feeling of your thighs on each side of him as he fucks his hips upwards into you?? he's in heaven, overstimulated by the pleasure and he loves it. will definitely tell you too (I'm a whiny submissive yuuta believer, he whimpers). he loves how soft you feel inside (and outside). he'll def massage your thighs when you ride him (or at least grab them).
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megumi fushiguro
are we surprised? no we're not!
fav hypeman! he'd literally blush whenever he sees you, you're just way too out of his league (he thinks you're too gorgeous to be in love with someone like him) and he's your boyfriend?? he's the luckiest man alive.
he loves how you look all the time, especially when you're confident. if anyone dares to make you feel insecure about yourself, they will face the consequences. and trust me, no one wants to face those consequences (they're both painful and awfully humiliating. megumi knows how to make people regret things). he's shy about his feelings tbh but you'll hear endless compliments from him. he compliments you when he first sees you in the morning and throughout the day too. there won't be a day when he doesn't compliment you. he loves to see you when you're confident and loves to make you feel confident too.
and he loves your hands; he loves how they feel, he loves how they look.. he just loves your hands SO MUCH. he loves holding them and caressing them and kissing them. he loves how they feel and look around his dick...
he loves kissing you. his hands will be caressing you while his lips are sealed onto yours. if his hand is on the back of your neck, he'll softly pinch it (he loves the extra softness on it, I hope yall know what this means). he'll pinch your back too, your thighs, the sides of your stomach.. it'll definitely be a bit ticklish but you can't blame him, he loves everything about you way too much.
---
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I love chubby chasers tbh (I love chubby women pls)
also I don't really like how this fic turned out but that's okay (it makes me wanna cry tbh but I hope yall enjoy!!!)
I got lazy so lmk if you want a part 2 (I have a lot of characters in mind for this)
#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#jjk x chubby reader#gojo x chubby reader#gojo satoru x chubby reader#megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi fluff#toji x chubby reader#megumi fushiguro x chubby reader#toji fushiguro smut#megumi x chubby reader#toji fushiguro x reader#yuuta okkotsu x you#yuuta smut#yuuta x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro x chubby reader#jjk smut
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