#i actually live just down the road from here
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Stay
Rin pushed everyone away in order to train to become the best, but that was a mistake.
the more i read it, the more i hate it, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Itoshi Rin x reader
wc: 2.4k
Even though Rin has hated being at home ever since his brother came back from Spain, it was impossible to spend every single moment outside the house. Every morning he went out, not caring if Sae would be home or not, and spent the day out until nightfall. Blue Lock, while not particularly enjoyable at first, had still been an escape and kept Rin far away from Sae.
The only thing he missed was . . .
No. No, no more of that. He has more important things to think about. Crushing Sae and becoming the world's best are no longer his only goals, beating Isagi is now on the list, too.
Rin sighs. It's getting late.
He's barely two minutes from home when he sees you, feeling like he's been punched in the gut. You're standing outside your house and carrying a plastic bag with the logo of the small convenience store five minutes away. It almost slips from your grasp when you spot Rin.
The last time you actually spoke to each other was right here, in front of your house. It was snowing that evening, too, quiet and calm just as it is now.
I shouldn't, You tell yourself. You almost want to start an argument with him but you just can't be bothered. Rin already made what he wanted clear months ago so you just look away from him and say, "Congrats on winning."
Rin doesn't have a right to feel down, he knows that. He doesn't get to be upset that your voice is colder than the snow and ice around him, this was his own doing.
"Excuse me."
"Wait." The word flies out of his mouth before he even realizes it. Rin gulps, feeling way to warm all of a sudden. "Wait." He repeats, more quiet this time.
"Why?"
You don't turn to him, and why would you? Rin thinks back to that damned evening when his brother came home and proceeded to crush Rin's dreams and break his spirit down.
He gulps again. "Can we talk?"
"No."
He doesn't have the right to demand, he knows that. Rin doesn't get to make any demands after ending your lifelong friendship out of the blue. He was hurting back then and he just wanted to die, but he knows it's not an excuse.
"At least stand by what you said." You say it so quietly that he almost doesn't hear.
Rin wishes he could take it back. "What I said was wrong."
"Saying that won't erase it." You push the gate to your house open and close it behind you, not saying bye or good night as you walk inside.
Rin thinks back to when he ended your friendship. Looking back now, he knows that he hurt you just as badly as Sae hurt him. He was being unfair when he took his pain and frustrations out on you.
Rin wishes he was strong and brave enough to go and knock on your door and ask to talk again.
He wants to apologize, not beg for forgiveness. You don't owe him your forgiveness, but he definitely owes you a proper apology.
Rin sighs and whispers your name to himself. "Good night."
*
It's awkward at home.
Rin hates having to live under the same roof as Sae again. He spent all those years waiting for his brother to come home only for the bastard to stomp on what was once their shared dream and spit down upon Rin like he was nothing.
He just can't bring himself to say anything to their parents, and neither can Sae. There are times when Rin thinks he's hallucinating, brief moments when Sae's typical stoic expression changes and Rin swears he can see sadness on his brother's face.
It only pisses him off.
Rin gets particularly angry one evening and heads out after dinner, telling his parents he's taking a late walk. It ends up being quite a short one when he comes to a halt only a few houses down.
On the other side of the road, your house is mostly dark except for a single lit up room. Yours.
Rin remembers your shared childhood and teenage years fondly. He helped you decorate your room when you were ten years old and your family moved into that house. Well, Sae was there, too, but screw his bitch ass.
Speaking of him, though, if Sae was next to Rin right now he would probably call his little brother tepid, and a coward.
Rin looks up at your window. Your blinds are down, but the light is on. Are you home alone, or is your family already in bed? Should he go and ring the doorbell? Text you? Call? What if you've blocked him? Rin wouldn't know, he never called or texted you after that evening, after all.
Ah, forget it. You don't want to see him anyways and he knows it.
Rin lowers his head and walks away instead. Maybe he can find the courage to try to talk to you in a few days, before he returns to Blue Lock.
It starts to snow as he walks.
He thinks back to that evening after losing the one on one against Sae. They walked home together, but not side by side like Rin had grown up hoping they would after Sae's return from Spain. He had walked a few steps behind his older brother, absolutely crushed. They were both silent while walking, the only sound coming from them walking in the snow and Sae pulling his suitcase behind him.
You spotted the brothers outside and welcomed Sae home, but it quickly became obvious that he wasn’t happy to be back. Rin looked even worse than his brother and ignored you. He met you in school the next day and you were being your usual self, but Rin had changed. He didn't look at you, only told you to leave him alone. Of course you asked what was wrong, but he only repeated himself and told you to shut your mouth.
Damn, why did he do that?
He will never forget the talk you had outside your house.
What an idiot Rin had been.
His walk takes him around the neighborhood and past your house again. Rin keeps his head down and forces himself to not look at your house where you are, whom he so desperately wishes he could talk to.
*
It's snowing.
You sit in silence and watch it snow in silence for so long that you completely lose track of time. It's always nice to be home alone and sit by the window like this, watching the snow fall.
It takes you by surprise to see Rin outside. His hands are shoved into his jacket pockets, head held down and walking at a slow pace.
Maybe you should . . .
No, no, no. How could you ever forget what he said? The kindest thing he called you back then was a stupid and naive brat and to stay the fuck away from him. Why would you ever agree to talk to him now?
Stupid Rin, You think.
You're even dumber than him.
As fast as you can, you run downstairs and bolt out of the house, almost slipping a few times.
"Rin! Rin!"
He freezes.
You feel stupid now. This is probably a bad idea. "You wanted to talk." You feel awkward. Ideally you would have a speech planned and call him out for his words and actions, but instead you find yourself unprepared to talk to him and your mind goes blank.
Rin turns. There's so much he wants to say.
"Rin . . ." Your vision blurs as tears build up but you won't look away, keeping your gaze locked with his. "Why did you say all that?"
To say that he was hurting would be a coward's answer. Rin wishes he could give you a reason that doesn't hurt you even more. If he tells you that he was hurt himself then you'll ask him why he would end your friendship rather than come to you for support and he doesn't have an answer to that.
Shit, he's so pathetic.
"It was wrong." Rin finally says.
"Yes it was." You say, voice so harsh it almost makes him flinch. "That's not what I was asking, though."
He really has nothing. Rin's mind goes blank as he tries to figure out what to say. He's so used to being in control of every situation he's in that this feels nerve wracking.
His silence makes you sigh and look down. "I see." You murmur.
Wait, you're not going back inside are you? Rin can't let you walk away now, you'll never talk to him again. He doesn't want to live and chase his dreams if you're not at his side.
Rin doesn't think, he just acts.
He quickly rushes up to you, arms wrapping around and holding you tight. He hasn't hugged you like this since you were children, not realizing just how badly he missed it.
"R- Rin . . . ?"
He just squeezes tighter and hides his face in his shoulder. It feels good to hold you like this.
"Come inside, it's cold."
*
"What I said was wrong." Rin says again. He doesn't know what else to say other than admitting his words were cruel and wrong that day.
"So what made you say it?"
"It was . . ." Rin's sitting on your mattress, cross legged with his hands on his knees. He's uncomfortable and tensed up, certain you will tell him to piss off and never talk to him again once he's done telling you what happened. "My brother came home . . ." His nails dig into his jeans. "I was so happy to see him but he," Rin gulps. “he was different."
It doesn't take him long to tell you. After all, it's such a short story. All Sae did was show up, beat Rin, and use as few words as possible to crush his dream.
"Rin,"
"I wasn't really thinking back then."
"Rin,"
He holds his own knees tightly. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I know that now." He squeezes his eyes shut as tears start to build up.
"Rin."
"I- I'm . . . I'm sorry that I-"
"Rin."
He finally stops, looking up at you with a gasp.
"Why didn't you talk to me?"
That's a good question. Why didn't Rin just talk to you instead? "I don't . . . know . . ." He mumbles, looking down in shame.
It doesn't fix anything. It doesn't take away the pain he caused you. It only tells you why he did. It's ridiculous. All this over a damn sport . . .
"I get it . . ." Rin said quietly. "I get it if you never walk to talk to me again. I just . . . I wanted to apologize."
"No need."
"Huh . . . ?" Rin looks up at you.
You're looking out the window. "I won't forgive you anyway."
He knew that already. Why would you ever forgive him?
Rin gulps as he watches you in silence. He's never seen you sad before. You've always had a smile on your face, but he changed that. Rin's dumb ass hurt you enough to erase your smile and he hates himself for it.
Rin forces himself to say, "I get it."
"Hey, Rin . . ."
He feels a sliver of hope. "Yeah?"
"Did beating Sae-san make you feel any better?"
Maybe it did a little bit in the moment, but Sae managed to ruin that, too. He didn't acknowledge Rin as a striker, or even praise him. Sae hadn't even said something as simple as a quick, "That was a good match."
Was it worth it? Was pushing everyone, including you, away worth it? Sure, Blue Lock won and Rin beat Sae in that final moment, but now he realizes how stupid it was to end your friendship all in the name of dedicating his life to training and bettering himself.
"It wasn't worth it." Rin knows it's stupid to say that. He knows that it'll only hurt you more but he doesn't want to lie to you. "I shouldn't have hurt you."
"Dumbass."
Yeah, you're not wrong there. Rin really is a dumbass. "You're being nice by only saying that."
"You want me to yell at you and call you everything under the sun?" You ask.
Well, he does deserve it.
"I miss you, you know." You say in a small voice.
Really?
"I miss my best friend."
Still just friends, huh? Rin kind of wants to punch himself for having those thoughts, but he's not going to make things even worse so he says the same, "I miss my friend, too." You're still looking out the window. From where you're sitting you can see Rin's house where the lights are still turned on. "Maybe we should talk more tomorrow, your parents will wonder where you are."
Who cares about that? Rin wants to stay here with you forever.
He doesn't want to impose, though. Rin simply nods and stands up after you, but he can't bring himself to walk. You notice that he's standing still and turn to him. "You good?"
He's quiet, looking down at the floor.
"Rin?"
He's so deep in thought that he doesn't even hear your voice. Rin is too busy trying to make a decision. He doesn't know if he should just leave and come back tomorrow to talk some more . . . or stay and risk ruining everything.
You step up to him and say his name again, putting a hand on his arm. It pulls Rin from his thoughts and he finally looks up from the floor.
Rin murmurs your name softly and holds your face in his hands. He doesn't know what to say, there probably isn't anything he can say right now. He still wants to apologize for hurting you, but you told him not to. I'm about to ruin everything, Rin thinks.
You’re quiet, eyes wide with surprise with how he's holding your face so gently.
"Can I stay?" Rin asks, thumbs caressing your cheeks softly.
Your face heats up at his touch and your heart is pounding from how close he is. He's close, You think, gulping. So close.
Rin's eyes, framed by thick lashes, stare intensely into yours and you suddenly feel the need to look away but he's holding you in place. You've never seen this look in them.
“Rin . . ."
"Can I?" He asks again.
Yes is on your mind, right on the tip of your tongue, but you can't get anything out when you part your lips.
Your pretty and soft looking lips that Rin's gaze travels down to. Rin wonders if they're as soft as they look, inching ever closer. "Can I?"
It won't erase the past and it won't magically fix everything, but you're willing to try to mend things, though it won't be as simple friends if he actually closes the gap and kisses you.
You really want him to stay. "R- Rin . . ."
Screw it, he'll take that as a yes.
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poäng appreciation post 💛
#i forget if i said but Baby Sister and i stopped off at ikea on the way back from picking her up at the bus stop on monday#and finally replaced the ruined-by-a-succession-of-cats-(in-ways-both-unsightly-and-gross) Accent Chair in the living room#with a poäng rocker (bc the shape is a little more interesting and less instantly recognizable than the regular chair) in birch (my beloved#also they make fancy tufted cushions for it now! wish they came in more colors but it's a real improvement on sad options past#and anyway it's like. now you can actually sit here in the morning and look out the window at the extremely beautiful view#and the chair actually supports you??? like i could see down the road trying to work out some kind of custom cushioning that's thicker#but the shape of the frame is so ergonomic for me that it's genuinely quite comfortable regardless. bentwood exocorset…#anyway. not a very original post but i just DO really love ikea#like yes it's a mixed bag but also honestly if you're buying particle board—#(i was going to say 'and expecting it to hold up' but. honestly i think it's just. if you're buying particle board period)#—that might be on you.#(like. if you're being pressed in from all sides by budget constraints and immediate need and no accessible better-made used alternatives—#obviously you do what you have to. but it's like buying pleather—you know‚ or should‚ that the material is going to disintegrate.)#but the things ikea makes with decent materials are remarkably well-designed and affordable for what they are‚ has been my sense?#you just gotta shop carefully but like. that's true literally everywhere.#anyway. in conclusion i love my new buddy with its clean lines. …do people name chairs ever.#i've never before had the urge but this one feels like a little assembly-line friend that deserves its own identity. like a star wars clone#(lol what if i gave it a little nametag somewhere hidden. secret identity talisman 4 chairpal.)#(& yes i promise i'm as aware of the‚ uh‚ itself-ness of this tag spiral as you are. :) )#domesticities
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it's actually very mean that i can't have emojis of my ocs just on my computer. i just think it would be much more convenient for when i have to say the Guys are in my brain but i also have no words..
#just me hi#i'm thinkin#and i mean like standard emoji. mostly bc artstreet dms don't let you put up actual images so i have to resort to detailing actual thoughts#Hfbshfv#//anywho so whenever i'm outside by myself i always get the Strongest urge to just start walking and not stop forever hfvhs#i will just Go#no objective no location. but i will be Moving#i Would do that but in order to get a satisfying amount of distance between me and People i have to walk down the road and mm i am nervous#abt doin that fvhsbh#like country roads... i may not come home.... south virginiaaaa hfbvsfhbsv#plus everyone drives crazy out here. when we moved out here we almost got sideswiped by a funkin fedex truck over a little hill#and of Course it was a fedex truck man. we've Never had a near-accident with Any usps trucks hfbvshvs#oh and also the local mailman drives like a maniac too <3 almost had a head-on collision once which was. neat lmao#like maybe 20 feet from slamming into each other which Is Not Much when you're in a car bfh#/Also people just let their dogs run out wild n crazy and :( i don't think they're properly trained to be letting them do that Aha#rode my bike out once with my brother + two of the neighbor's dogs tried ta jump us it sucked#now we don't go past their driveway so we don't ride out very far#//also hey our driveway is Ridiculous ??? ik we've been living here for like 2 years i'm still not over it lmaoohvf#it's like a 40-45 degree angle this is just silly#and listen i'm barely figuring out how my legs even work again. do you think i'm having a good time up that hill because i'm nOT#though you know what it's fine ! not many people come up our drive bc geez why Would you lmao#except for that one lady that asked for directions and then miiight have gotten lost again immediately after leaving HH#//okay. yea anyway the p1nk space is really in my brain rn hbfhvs#really i don't think i've ever been so interested in a project before this is so cool lol :D#marveling at the fact that anything was able to keep my interest for longer than 5 months Hbsh#//anywhoodle do i'm gonna skedaddle#prolly gonna rerun a couple things in a seccy but ye :33
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would REALLY love for people to not start rambling about politics and then get surprised/upset/disappointed when i walk out after a certain point
i'm tired of having to correct people and STILL getting shut down
#and people around me seem to think that because they don't see prejudices means they don't exist/they're not common#i am always fucking diligent about these things#because if i say or do the wrong thing it could mean my life#and yes we are arguably safer here in canada#but that doesn't mean people don't have guns or other weapons#there was an assassination last year literally down the road from where i live now#there were anti-MOGAI protests across the country last year#disabled people are routinely treated with hostility and disrespect#oppressions don't just disappear because you don't see them#in fact you may be contributing to them if you don't see them happening#*coughcough glares at my aunt coughcough*#and what am i even supposed to say about it? sorry you're offending me? they'll just argue against it#im not supposed to get offended because they actually meant y instead of x#fuck right off. honestly.
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A Christmas Special
summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you
cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words
Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say.
He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth.
Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door.
Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side.
���Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.”
“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?”
“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving.
Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.”
Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?”
“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.”
You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.”
Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger.
“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand.
“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous.
You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts.
“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.”
“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.”
You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.”
Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch.
“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat.
“Mhm. You like them?”
“Never had one.”
Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?”
You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned.
“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.”
“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.”
“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle.
“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.”
“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour.
Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives.
You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her.
You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock.
“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!”
You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms.
“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”
Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.”
“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.”
“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.”
“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry.
“Come here, my handsome little guy.”
“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap.
Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it.
“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again.
“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly.
“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.”
“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.”
James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry.
“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax.
“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”
You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?”
“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists.
“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.”
“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees.
James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.”
Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.”
“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”
“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”
“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”
You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.”
James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there.
“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.”
The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.”
“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know.
“Shit, I forgot to check.”
“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.”
“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile.
“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.”
“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.”
Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness.
He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge.
You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go.
“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”
You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.”
“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.
“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir.
“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”
You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.”
“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.”
Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn.
“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.”
“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.”
“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.”
You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.”
“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.”
Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.”
You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat.
James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”
Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.”
Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.”
“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”
“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.”
You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”
Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”
“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out.
“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.”
He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”
“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.”
“I’ll be fine,” you insist.
“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.”
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.
“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.”
“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.
“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”
You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.”
“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!”
“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door.
“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you.
“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.”
“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.”
Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out.
And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet.
“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering.
“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”
“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”
“Mmm, a Christmas film?”
“Obviously.”
The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you.
The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”
You look over at him. “Hm?”
“You’re frowning.”
“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.”
His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”
“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”
“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”
You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.
The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours.
“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end.
Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.”
“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.”
“Sure it is.”
“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.”
“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.”
And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.
You hum a denial.
“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”
“Are you tired?”
He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.”
“I want to finish the movie.”
He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.”
The credits start, and neither of you move.
You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”
“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”
You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.”
Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”
You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you.
“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes.
You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”
“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.”
You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.”
His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”
You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.”
“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.”
“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”
“Your back will hurt.”
“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.”
There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down.
“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”
“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”
The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.”
“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious.
He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”
You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.”
“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.”
“You can think that if you like.”
“Want to watch this one next?”
“Sure.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.
Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him.
He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing.
Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while.
“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together.
It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says.
You hum.
“Unless you mean it’s working.”
Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.
He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?”
“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words.
He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you.
“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.”
He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.”
Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”
You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.”
He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you.
Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back.
“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his.
Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.
“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?”
The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”
You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”
His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.”
You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech.
“Do you want to move to my room?”
You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip.
“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?”
“You’re relentless.”
Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.
“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?”
Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.”
❆ ❆ ❆
You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth.
You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him.
You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this.
“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?”
Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you.
Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it.
You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy.
“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”
Exactly, you think. It’s you.
“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him.
His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”
If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no.
“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?”
You swallow. “Okay.”
“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?”
You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward.
One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs.
It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline.
“We can stop anytime you want.”
You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.”
Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.
You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time.
Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating.
“Is this okay?” you ask.
His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under.
“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound.
He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil.
“Come here,” you plead.
He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.
“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.”
You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens.
“Do you think—can we—”
He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?”
“I want to. Do you?”
Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.”
You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces.
He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another.
“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?”
You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?”
“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.”
He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you.
“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?”
Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face.
“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?”
“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.”
“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”
“Mhm.”
He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound.
Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth.
“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.”
The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat.
“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.”
The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.”
“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.
“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you.
It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all.
“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?”
Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.”
Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway.
“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.”
“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”
The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication.
You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens.
“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.”
“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”
You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now.
“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.
“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.”
His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?”
Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.”
“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?”
You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.”
“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks.
“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.”
“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee.
You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead.
“That was really great,” you tell him.
“I thought so too.”
“You’ll stay here, right?”
A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream.
It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new.
Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall.
Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you.
He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim.
“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? Remus can’t even think.
“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?”
“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?”
“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?”
His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression.
“Really?”
A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?”
“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.”
“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.”
You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better.
“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.”
There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.”
They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs.
With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face.
“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?”
A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.”
There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.”
It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time.
Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again.
“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.”
“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. ��Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.”
“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”
“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?”
You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.
“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?”
You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.”
Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back.
You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference.
You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours?
He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?
He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you.
So much for opposites attract.
“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face.
“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving.
“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”
“Remus?”
Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?”
“Your pancake…”
He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.”
“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.”
Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness.
“Would you come here?” he asks.
You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now.
“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”
“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.”
You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”
“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?”
“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.”
“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.”
You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles.
“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.”
Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor.
“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.”
“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.”
Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly.
“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.”
“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.”
Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.”
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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.
"You're not going."
"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"
"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."
"Steve-"
"And if you throw up in my car-"
"Oh my God-"
"I'll kill you."
Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.
"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.
He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.
"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.
"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.
"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.
He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.
(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)
"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.
"You baited me into it."
"I did no such thing."
Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"
Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."
"Sorry dude."
"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."
Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.
"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"
"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."
"All I'm saying-"
"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."
Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.
"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.
"Five more minutes," Anna tries.
"Nope. Clean up and roll out."
"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.
"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"
Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"
"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.
"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."
Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.
Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.
But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.
Success by all metrics, really.
Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.
They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.
He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.
The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.
At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:
Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.
-Eddie
Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-
Hang on.
He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-
No way. No way in hell.
It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-
"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.
Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.
Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.
"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."
Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.
"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."
Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.
"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"
Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.
"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."
At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.
Because what the fuck is happening right now?
His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.
Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.
Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.
When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.
"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.
"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.
The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.
And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.
Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.
Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.
Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.
He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.
Sweet Jesus.
"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"
The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.
Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"
"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"
"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.
"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."
"How do you even-"
"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"
Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.
"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."
"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."
"Well, I have it now."
"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.
"He left me his number on the seat."
"Text him."
"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."
Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."
"Have you looked at him?"
"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."
"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."
"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.
"Text-"
Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"
"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.
"I bought them."
She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."
Steve stares. She stares right back.
He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.
With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:
I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.
Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?
Part 3!!
#ria writes#this au needs a tag#uhhh#d&c au#there we go#dilf & concert#this was inspired by me seeing ice nine kills open for metallica#in case you couldn't tell#as well as the really cool dad and kid i sat next to#at fall out boy#shoutout to them#they were awesome#anyway#real tags time!#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#st#st ficlet#stranger things#stranger things ficlet#corroded coffin#rockstar eddie munson#dilf steve harrington
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The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.
What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.
It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.
That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.
Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."
The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.
They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?
And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"
They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.
They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.
It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.
Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.
To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.
Suddenly, a car horn.
Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"
Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"
There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"
Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"
And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".
Eddie wanted to punch him.
But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.
Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"
A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.
"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"
They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.
The man completely ignored them.
"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."
All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".
The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."
Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."
Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.
"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"
Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."
And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"
Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.
Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.
But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:
"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."
Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.
"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."
And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"
Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."
Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:
After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.
The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.
Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.
And finally...
The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".
#steve harrington#eddie munson#corroded coffin#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie fanfiction#steddie ficlet#gareth emerson#jeff stranger things#freak stranger things#chrissy cunningham#drumcheer#not proofread we die like my sleep schedule
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Nothing Fucks With My Baby
Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader
A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy.
Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!
Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N
Word Count: 5.3k
Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.
(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)
Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything.
But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car.
Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.”
You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.”
“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.
“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.”
Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words.
You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly.
“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel.
You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you.
The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face.
“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms.
You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy,
And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house.
You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.
Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway.
Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes.
Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father.
“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that.
The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”
Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?”
Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”
You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass.
You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”
“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face.
“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home.
You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard.
You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed.
You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties.
You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute.
And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me”
A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes, “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again.
He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties.
“but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway.
He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight.
You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again.
You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?”
A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit.
Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want.
Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face.
His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry”
His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis.
You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much.
You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words.
“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes.
“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair.
“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying.
Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips.
“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”
Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.
A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free
READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.
PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
Thank you for reading, and free Palestine
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#the last of us#joel miller fic#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller au#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou fanfiction#tlou hbo#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal#papaya writes <3
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How do I tell my husband he got scammed into buying a lion?
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ summary: during one autumn afternoon you're suddenly faced with another one of your husband's impulsive purchases. only that this time it's a living being.
✧ content: established relationship, fluff, humor, might be a bit ooc
✧ a/n: hello there hsr fandom! i have unfortunately lost the battle against myself on making another sideblog for jing yuan, the man who has singlehandedly occupied my mind since his first appearance in the beta. i do hope that this will actually appear in the tags, but every infomation you would need if you want to request something is all up on the blog if you so wish! i hope we can have a pleasant time together !!
also this is not beta-read, we die like how fast my resolve to not create a jing yuan blog died.
Being the spouse of the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu comes with it's share of benefits and disadvantages. For one you're regarded at a higher position than most of it's citizens, often being stopped on the side of the road when taking a walk to exchange numerous pleasantries with merchants from outside of Xianzhou, various store owners or cloud knights on duty.
Another factor is shouldering the burden your husband has on his shoulder, an oath you had taken yourself the day you accepted Jing Yuan's nth proposal. You considered that a fair trade with his vast knowledge and insight into a possible future and doing everything behind the scene to avoid colliding headfirst into said problem. A feat that attracted you towards the general in the first place, minus his dashing looks of course.
The biggest disadvantage of publicly announcing that you were indeed the Arbiter-General's significant other was doing everything within your power to not throw your husband's famous title away for a newer, more terrible one. (more utc!)
Because as you see him walking up the steps of the Seat of Divine Foresight, your gaze is not locked with your husband's smiling face, rather it's fixated on the small being he has cradled in his arms. The soft smile you had quickly spreading into a more nervous and confused smile as you glance over at Qingzu, the counselor looking at you with just as much confusion.
How in the world did you manage to leave him alone out in the market area for an hour and he comes back with a lion cub?
"[Name], darling! Look at this grimalkin that a merchant had!"
A what now?
"... A grimalkin, you say?" Every book that has recorded history had specified that the grimalkin species had gone extinct, and you were well aware that your husband knew this fact. And yet here you were, faced with his smile directed down towards what you can clearly tell is a lion cub, his thumb pressing down at its paws affectionately.
You're starting to think that Yanqing's impulsive purchases with his sword collection aligns with your own husband's impulsiveness.
Coughing loudly into your hand, you take a deep breath before descending down the stairs to be on the same level as Jing Yuan, peering down onto the cub's face. It was indeed cute, and judging by how enamored Jing Yuan is, you can clearly tell that it's small stature is what attracted him to it in the first place.
Oh he's going to be crushed when it grows up, "It's adorable, Jing Yuan," you settle on saying, waving a finger over the lion's grimalkin face, the animal lifting its paws to try to grab it. You shoot a look towards Qingzu, a silent command for her to look into which outer merchant was now scamming people into buying literal lions. The counselor quickly excusing herself to look into the matter immediately, Jing Yuan only giving her a smile and a wave of his hand as she scurries down the stairs.
"Right? I decided to name it Mimi," he muses, and your heart breaks a tiny bit for him, but there are more pressing matters at hand than the fact that your husband once again got scammed because he was most likely bored out of his mind.
You would rather that the Xianzhou citizens know him as "The Dozing General" instead of the general that gets scammed a few times too many. How does one even go on about trying to tell their husband that the grimalkin in his arms is actually a lion?
"A fitting name indeed," you mutter, raising a hand to caress Jing Yuan's cheek, a simple gesture to make the general direct his attention to you. However, you could still see that his guard was slightly up with you. You only chuckle at that, leaning in to slide your lips over his own, Jing Yuan wasting no time to press back.
Another well hidden secret reserved for the walls of the Divine Foresight is the fact your husband is incredibly weak for his own spouse.
"... Want to tell me how much you paid for Mimi, dear?" you ask in a whisper when your lips part, thumb caressing over the mole under his eye.
Jing Yuan merely smiles, twisting his head to press his lips against your hand instead, "It was from my personal wallet, dear. Please don't fret over the small details."
"Darling, I hope you're aware that the small details would be the necessary funding for accomodation, toys and food, right?" you say with a chuckle, your husband freezing with his ministrations upon remembering that fact.
Oh well, you want to see how long it takes before your husband comes to realization that it's a lion. You just have to be extra vigilant towards the numerous fundings in the meantime.
While scrolling through your schedule for the next morning, your phone dings with a message from Qingzu. You quickly look down at Mimi whose resting on your belly and then at Jing Yuan whose sleeping self is still snoring away by your shoulder before letting out a small sigh in relief that the loud noise didn't awake any of them.
Qingzu:
Do I even have a say in this?
Was the message sent by Qingzu, attatched to it is a picture taken of what you can only presume is one of Jing Yuan's "diaries". The contents of it making you let out a low laugh, the shaking making said man beside you grumble before pressing his face into your neck.
Attatched image:
"Eventually, I paid hefty sum for the grimalkin, named it "Mimi", and took it home. Only that I'm too busy with official business and have little time to take care of Mimi. After thinking it over, chores like feeding it and changing its water should also be entrusted to Qingzu. I do wonder why [Name] looked so distraught when they first saw Mimi though. Maybe they didn't think I would favor the petite and small animals instead of the usual large and strong ones?"
[Name]:
So Qingzu, do you have an idea what the easiest way to tell someone they got scammed is?
Qingzu:
That is the role of the spouse, not the counselor.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail imagines#star rail x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x you#jing yuan x reader#x reader#reader insert
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You know what I changed my mind old friends stop coming back into my life challenge
#tunas tales#I made this post 3 days ago but just saved it as a draft#but this is the what. fourth person that used to be in my life come into my work#please I cannot take this#none of them even live up here and why THIS taco johns of all places#Not targeted at anyone specifically but oh my god PELASE#a lot of the people coming in I haven’t even talked to since high school#I kinda forget I live an hour away from my old town and people can just. travel#TACO BELL IS RIGHT DOWN THE ROAD PLS GO THERE#actually no I’m kind of mad now
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✘ delinquents
sfw | tws : yandere behavior; stalking, obsessive thoughts, mildly implied violence
delinquent male yanderes x reader! only pronoun used for reader is ‘you’ 😌 i took a bit longer than expected so i hope yall enjoy these knuckleheads
mattias was the first to take notice of you.
he caught sight of you during one of his typical late night walks with his friends, semi-drunkenly cracked jokes amongst themselves as they passed around liquor that they had stolen earlier in the day. and when his gaze fell onto you from some distance away, he stopped walking.
you were doing nothing but sitting at a bus stop, but... what was it about you? the way the street lamp bathed you in its light, illuminating you with an amber glow like you were the only thing on the street? it made the boy's heart stutter in a way he'd never felt before!
when his friends returned to his side upon noticing he had stopped walking, mattie quickly pointed you out to his friends ("guys, check out that cutie!"), and an additional three pairs of eyes landed on you as your bus rumbled down the road. and they all had the same reaction as him — you were adorable! what were you doing out on your own so late? didn’t you know there were criminals around here? poor little thing you were, you must’ve not had any other choice…
clearly, you needed someone to protect you!
they were too far away to approach then and there, but it was probably for the best. getting talked up by four drunk, imposing male strangers so late at night would probably not make the best first impression, one of them pointed out as they watches you board your bus. so completely unbeknownst to you, your four new admirers had already began to devise a plan to meet you formally.
it was strange how naturally their collective desire for you fell together. any other time, if even just two of them liked the same person, it was enough to cause infighting and strife among the friend group. but you? the way you united them simply by existing, you had to be something special! it must’ve been destiny that they noticed you that night.
the four would slowly trickle their way into your life, one by one. despite mattias begging to be the one to do it, dominic would be the first of the four you’d actually meet. in his eyes, he was the least intimidating, the most suave, the most manipulative. his charmingly crooked smile had always helped him charm his way into and out of most situations, and you were no different.
he’d casually start riding the same bus as you at the same times you did, using it as an excuse to talk to you. coincidentally, you and him had the same stops, too! and he even got the driver to give you free lifts, even when he wasn't around. it was an old favor he was owed, he'd say, so you didn't have to pay any mind to the tense demeanor of the bus driver whenever you boarded.
naturally he’d offer to walk you home, too, but if you weren’t comfortable with that, it was no biggie (he’d figure out where you lived regardless). he was content with waving you off and walking in a different direction for the meantime.
mattias and judas came next. when dom had managed to convince you to stop by the nearby corner store with him one day, his friends just so happened to be there! as if they weren’t waiting there every day after you and dom had established a friendship.
it was all mattias could do to not scoop you up the moment you met. you were even cuter up close! he was so happy when his patience was rewarded by being graced with your voice, your laughs at his witty sense of humor, and your little smile when you looked at him. did you like him back? did you think he was half as attractive as he found you to be? he desperately wanted to know what you thought of him, but he choked back his questions to keep from scaring you off. in spite of his usually energetic persona, he played it cool to gain your favor.
judas, meanwhile, observed you in relative silence — he wasn’t much of a talker, dom explained — but it didn’t mean his thoughts weren’t any less intense than mattias’s. he couldn’t deny it — he liked you, quite a lot. more than he thought he would. despite finding you attractive too, he didn’t think much of you when he had first grown aware of your existence. he’d simply chalked you up to be the temporary fixation of his friends. but the second you did meet, judas’s mind went to places he had never expected it to go.
for once, he found himself… wanting someone. wanting you. and for once, he was happy his friends had dragged them into this whole scheme.
the four of you all got along so well! and when aaron was finally introduced to you as well, he was no exception. aaron was the only of the four to have a car, so when he ‘learned’ that you were taking the bus so late to get around, he was quick to offer up his own services to help you out ("dom is too much of a nuisance to drive around," he'd claim). an excuse to be able to spend more time with you, with and without his friends around, and you don’t have to deal with public transportation anymore! a win-win, right? and when you accepted, he was over the moon.
it didn't take long for them to sweep you right off your feet after you had met all four of them. they were relentless in capturing your heart and all four of them worked together to ensure you were theirs.
on top of that, none of them were afraid of breaking a few rules or laws to do that, either.
you found yourself always with at least one of the four — usually mattias, as he had the most free time and arguably liked you the most — and the few times you weren't, you could bet they were doing everything in their power to get back to you. other people in your life suddenly began to pull away from you, never having time or simply not wanting to be around you, or so they claimed. it left you with little else to turn to outside of the boys. they had started to puppeteer your life without you ever even knowing it.
they didn't quite understand the pull you had on them — hell, you didn't even realize what you were doing to them! and they even started to question if what they were doing was okay. was what they were doing to your life just to keep you in theirs worth it?
but dominic, mattias, judas, and aaron all came to the same decision the day you agreed to be in a relationship with all four of them...
it was definitely worth it. and they'd keep doing whatever it took to keep things going exactly as they were.
#🚬 the delinquents#mattias callahan#aaron diaz#dominic graves#judas jones#mine | fics#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere boy#yandere x you#yandere x oc#polyam yanderes
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the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.
he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.
the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.
he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.
"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.
"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.
wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.
"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.
"changing your tire, sir?"
"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.
"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.
was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."
"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.
he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.
"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"
it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.
"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"
wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.
(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.
when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.
steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)
#wayne makes a joke like ur the munsons guardian angel#eddie agrees when he wakes up#steve is glowing with praise#praise him please he deserves it#steve was driving home from robins after they both had a nightmare abt the russians and needed to see each other/go for a walk btw#stranger things#prompt#steddie#steve harrington#imagine#stranger things prompt#eddie munson#steddie prompt#steve and eddie#steddie fic#steddie hc#steddie headcanon#steddie ficlet#wayne munson#steve and wayne
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A part of you, a part of me
Summary: Joel’s been down this road before, he’s seen all the signs, and he knows before you ever do that you’re pregnant.
Warning: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, unplanned pregnancy, crying, fluff, pre-outbreak Joel. Established relationship, cream pie, pet names, cussing, pregnancy tests, just a bunch of happiness because that’s all Joel deserves in this world. 💜😭
A/n: I can’t say Joel has a breeding kink… but I can certainly say he makes me have one 😌
Joel Miller Master List
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Joel remembers everything from Sarah’s mother’s pregnancy, all of the signs that lead up to them finding out. And surely enough it was beginning to show in you.
It started one autumn morning, when he woke up to find you nestled in beside him, face pressed into his chest, snoring slightly, hair in disarray. You were the picture perfect definition of someone getting the best sleep of their lives.
The only reason it concerned his was the fact that you never slept in past 6. You were always up before Joel, making breakfast for him and Sarah and more often than not Tommy, taking Sarah to school with a sweet kiss to his lips before you’d dash off to work yourself.
Brushing the hair from your face he whispers softly, “Honey?” You grumble something unintelligible, pulling a smile from him. “Honey it’s 7:20.” You’re slow to open your eyes, hazy and still leaded with sleep as they focus in on him, his dark hair sticking up around his head like every morning, “You okay?”
“M’ just really tired… think you can take over this morning?” You whisper, reaching up and cupping his cheek, the stubble of his beard scratching your palm.
“Of course baby. You need me to call work? Want a day to relax?” You smile at his concern, knowing he’s already gearing himself to go the extra mile to make sure you start to feel better.
“That would be really nice.” He kisses your lips gently before leaving you to sleep in, and you end up sleeping most of the day away.
Joel’s quick to notice that you start to get more tired as the days progress, usually a morning person you were now sluggish and downing two cups of coffee just to stay alert, you’d stay in bed a little longer and go to sleep a little earlier.
Initially he’d chalked it up to being stress at work, you were an associate for a designer company, making all the hotels and houses around here ‘fancy looking’ as he would say. It was a big, busy job that you were very passionate about.
But then came the emotions and cravings, not anger or frustration like Sarah’s mother, but you cried, and you cried a lot. The alarm bells should of gone off when he found you one night in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. You were sitting at the counter crying, no you had been sobbing, and Joel feared the worst until you blubbered out that you just really, really wanted ice cream.
Him finding you like that only embarrassed you more, adding to the water works as he dragged you in for a tight hug, smoothing his hands up and down your back.
“I-I think I’m just PMSing.” You hiccuped bashfully, hiding your face against his chest as he kissed the brown of your head.
“It’s okay, we will go get some tomorrow, it’s Saturday and we can take Sarah with us to the little parlor in town.”
Two months in to your sudden changes is when it all came to a head, he wasn’t being nosy, had actually just walked into the house about to announce himself when he heard you on the phone.
“I don’t know Jenny, works been stressful, I definitely haven’t been eating right and I just don’t have the energy to go to the gym like I use to. Hell even my periods plying hide and seek with me. I thought about making a doctors appointment-“
Whatever else you say is lost on him as he stops dead in his tracks, his muscles tensing and mouth drying up. He makes his legs move, taking him around the corner and into the kitchen. You don’t notice him at first, giving him the perfect opportunity to just look at you, to really look at you.
At the sake of sounding corny… You really were glowing, face a little rounder, body filling out in different ways, curves softening under your clothing. The changes were slight, not so prominent yet, but he can see it.
His heart speeds up, emotions rolling through him like the ocean in a storm.
You are pregnant.
Walking closer he catches your attention, making you crack a wide smile that has his knees going weak. “Hey, Jenny, Joel just got home I’ll talk to you later… love you too, bye.”
Setting the phone down, you go to stand but Joel’s in front of you, dropping to his knees and capturing your hips in his hands. You let out a startled yelp, hands coming to rest on his arms squeezing gently.
“As adventurous as I am, I don’t think the kitchen is t-.”
“We need to talk.” His serious expression extinguishes your excitement, panic flashing through you instantly.
“What’s wrong? Is Sarah okay? Tommy?”
“Yes, they are fine, we need… we need to talk about you.”
“Me? Honey I’m fine, what do you mean?” Nervous laughter bubbles up in your throat, mind racing in every possible direction this conversation could go.
Joel rolls his lips together, glancing to your stomach then back to you. Your face is contorted with confusion, your grip tightening on his arms. “When… how long has it been since you’re last period?”
You scoff at his question, eyes rolling slightly as your posture relaxes. “Baby I don’t know, I haven’t been tracking it like I usually do. Between Carol and Tray calling out of work I’ve been given both of their projects to present, that’s two on top of my other two. And -.” You roll your eyes, temper rising, “and get this, two of them are so within three hours of each other, now how in the world am I supposed to-.”
“Darlin’.” Joel cuts off your rambling, one large hand shifting to your softer stomach, rubbing slow circles as he watches the confusion melt into realization and then back to panic as your eyes drop to your stomach.
“N-no… no Joel we.. we always use condoms.”
He gives you a look that says you’re lying through your teeth, which you are, there has been a few times over the past couple of months, after you’ve both had one to many drinks where you’ll wake up in the morning, slick between your thighs.
Joel watches your face pale, body shaking in his grasp and he pulls you a little closer with the hand on your hip. “How long?”
Swallowing you finally look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, expression pinched with… worry? Upset? Is he scared? Your own fears rise eyes flicking between his and something in his chest cracks open at the look on your face.
“M-maybe two months… I-I really don’t k-know.”
He nods, rubbing slow circles into your stomach, already knowing but needing to be sure. “Let’s take a trip to the store okay?”
*~*~*~*~*~*
You’re both quiet sitting on Joel’s bed, two positive pregnancy tests laying in between you. You are fighting back tears, stiff and trembling, waiting on Joel to blow up.
You’ve only been dating for three years, kids have never been a topic of discussion seeing as Joel already has Sarah, he’s been through the baby phase. Then there’s the fact you don’t officially live with him, though you’re apartment in the city is only visited when you need to do laundry. Almost every moment of the day is in this house or at work… does that me this will change everything?
“I’m… I’m so sorry Joel.” You finally whisper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.”
“What?”
“I should… I should of been on the pill, I should of been more careful… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” The absolute devastation in your voice makes Joel move, kneeling down in front of you like earlier, this time his hands are on your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your changing belly.
“Don’t you dare talk like that, you didn’t do anything to me. Yes I’m scared, I’m scared shitless but fuck baby… I’m over the moon.” Your watery eyes dart to his and he’s smiling, joy shining in his soft drown eyes making something inside your body relax for the first time in hours. “Now… I know-I know we didn’t plan this but I mean… This is us. This right here.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your stomach making you giggle breathlessly. “This is a part of me and a part of you that… God it’s so wonderful and you’re so wonderful and I love you so much, I love this so much.”
Tears brim his own beautiful eyes, hands gently squeezing your sides, curling into the fabric of your tank top as he searches your tear streaked face. “You my sweet girl, are going to be the most amazing mother.”
Whatever reservations, whatever doubts you were holding onto flood from your body with the shaky breath that escapes through your trembling lips, and without thought you lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss, one that pours every little emotion you don’t know how to communicate into him.
Joel stands, lips never leaving yours and pushes you back gently onto the bed, fitting himself between your legs as the kiss slowly turns hungry. You’re burning from the inside out, tears still escaping down your cheeks, as Joel settles himself over you, mindful of his weight.
“Shhh don’t cry honey.” He breaths, lips moving down to your jaw, working the skin with sloppy kisses.
You tilt your head back, body thrumming with sudden need. “H-happy tears.” You manage to squeak out, hands tugging at his t-shirt wantonly. “Joel… I want you, please I want you.” You beg, arching your back pressing your hips up against him searching for some form of friction.
“I know baby, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” He mumbles against your throat, a hand finding your pajama shorts and tugging them down, exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. He sits back, pulling your shorts over your ankles with a low growl. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me already.” Joel swipes a fingers through your folds, gathering your juices and circling your clit.
You whine into the air, closing your eyes as another pulse of arousal shoots through you, heart hammering against your ribs. “Please… Don’t tease me please.” The tears now streaming down your cheeks are out of desperation, your hands finding his belt and yanking at the worn leather.
Joel only chuckles with a shake his head, helping you unbuckle the belt and open his jeans, shoving them down far enough for his cock to spring free. You groan at the sight, letting your legs fall further open as you grab a fist full of his t-shirt pulling him to you.
“Need my cock that bad baby? Can’t wait any longer?” He groans as he runs the tip along your soaked folds, bumping your swollen bud making your hips jerk.
You shake your head, watching his cock as he slowly presses the head into your opening, your lip caught between your teeth.
“Hey,” Joel’s fingers find your chin, lifting your gaze to his and he feels like he might blow his load then and there. Your eyes simmer with pure lust… pure list and want and love and your looking up at his through your long lashes making his breath hitch in his chest. “Eyes on me when I fuck you, wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum.”
“Y-Yes sir.” You nod weakly, head resting back on the pillows as you hook your ankles around his waist.
“What a good girl you are.” He slowly thrusts in, savoring how you stretch around him, always so tight and warm. A low moan falls from your lips, legs tightening around him encouraging him to go deeper and he obeys, sinking into you completely.
You both stay still for a moment, breaths labored and hearts pounding. Joel keeps himself propped up with one hand, the other pushing your shirt up just under your breasts, finding its place on your small bump.
Joel pulls out half way before sinking back in, moaning and closing his eyes briefly as he finds his pace, deep and slow making your eyes roll and body languid below his. You can feel each bump and ridge of his cock, rubbing your walls in just the right way that your orgasm builds quickly. “So pretty, always wanted to put a baby in you, never thought I’d get the chance.” Your pussy squeezes around him your soft whimpers follow. “Yeah? You like that?”
“F-fuck… yes Joel… yes.” Your grip tightens on his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as pressure begins to build in the base of your spine.
His voice drops, the timbre in his drawl making your blood thick in your veins, head heavy and empty. “Just gonna have ta’ keep you pregnant then, barefoot in ma kitchen, swollen with all my babies.” Joel’s thrusts speed up, his mental image of you driving him closer and closer to his own orgasm. “I need to feel you cum for me, cum on my cock baby.”
His fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you nearly scream, the pressure radiating out into your abdomen pulling your muscles tight. You nod feverishly, panting out some form of yess and please, teetering on the cusp of oblivion, just for him.
Joel groans, eyebrows drawn together and thrusts turning sloppy, he can feel your pussy spasming around him and he knows he won’t last much longer.
“Let it go baby, let it happen, cum on my dick like the good girl you are.”
And it snaps, the tension flooding from your body as your orgasm erupts, a silent scream forming your lips into that perfect O shape that Joel loves so much, and as your cunt clenches down on him he stills, rope after rope of thick cum painting your quivering walls. He moans loud and deep, a shudder raking through his body as his eyes close and he basks in the euphoria washing through him.
Your legs shake around his twitching hips, whining pitchy and out of breath and Joel finally moves his fingers from your sensitive clit, splaying his hand across your stomach.
“You’re gonna be such a good mama.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
You both wait until after your first doctors appointment to tell Sarah and Tommy, over a lovely family meal.
“This is so good.” Sarah mumbles out around a mouth full of homemade lasagna making everyone laugh.
“Thank you, it’s my mamas recipe.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours, a smile tugging at his lips as your heart pounds in your ears, ready to spill the beans like you’ve planted. “I hope one day I can pass it on to you and your little sibling.”
It takes Sarah a minute, but Tommy stops eating immediately, his eyes growing wide, head wiping up to look between you and his brother, the smile that spreads across his face makes your heart warm.
“Ooo I’d love to try and cook it with you some time, I like learning new…” The realization dawns on her then, her jaw dropping open, shock taking over her expression and Joel can’t help but laugh.
“Really?” Sarah turns to you, and you’re already nodding, tears filling your eyes at the same time hers do. “I’m going to be a sister?”
“Oh honey…” She’s out of her chair and crashing into your open arms in an instant, crying against your chest as you bury your face into her curls, holding on tightly.
Tommy embraces Joel, patting his back roughly as Joel beams, watching his two girls over Tommy’s shoulder. This moment, this instances is all he’s ever dreamt of.
#joel miller x female reader#joel miller#smut#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#apollyonsdarksecrets#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#the last of us smut#Joel Miller breeding#pregnancy#happy
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Little pieces here and there (3)
Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, four, five
Word Count: around 2K again.
Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times
A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)
Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.
Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.
Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.
That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.
(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.
Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.
Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.
Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?
Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.
After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.
At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.
"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."
Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.
"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.
"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."
"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.
"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.
"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.
"Take a guess"
"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"
The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.
His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."
She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.
He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.
"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."
By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.
At least until they reach Arlong Park.
Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.
Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.
A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.
She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.
Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.
The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.
Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.
Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.
It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--
And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.
"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.
‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’
And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.
Bastard.
''You better'', she whispers to herself.
#buggy x reader#buggy the clown#buggy one piece#buggy the clown fanfiction#buggy x you#op buggy#one piece live action#one piece x reader#captain buggy
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Not On My Watch
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by @victias
Warnings: Strong Language, Brief Violence, Suggestive Themes
Word Count: 1,128
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Part Two: Faces of Old, Faces of New
Summary: There is something that can flip a switch in even the most trusting of men; jealousy. Now what switch that is all depends on the man.
Walking alongside each other in the desert was not the most ideal plan for anyone. But it worked for them. Salvation from the blistering heat was found just up the road at a small city that was hustling and bustling with people and shops.
“How many you got left, baby?” She asked, peaking her head out from the lip of her matching cowboy hat. Deftly, Cooper dug around in his satchel to pull the bag with his chems out.
“Got three. Know anyone with access here?” He replied, tucking them back in and continuing to walk.
“Please. You know I always know a guy, baby. Don’t worry about it.” Her tone was teasing as she playfully hit his shoulder. Cooper allowed a small smirk to overtake his face at his partner’s jests. Thoughts ran rampant in his head as he continued to walk. His self esteem was finally on the up and up after they collected the latest bounty, but it was times like these that tested that.
It seems like a lifetime ago that he had stumbled upon the woman in the middle of the Wasteland, half beaten and looted, but determined to get her effects back in a timely manner. An unusual partnership struck up when she offered a hundred caps to help her find the men that took her gear. As they tracked them through the Wastelands, they quickly realized that they had more in common with each other than they previously thought.
Oh, and get her gear she did. Cooper did not realize that he was that attracted to someone so covered in blood and gore until he saw the hell she unleashed upon those men. From that point forward, they continued to travel and make their living together. Trading chems and caps for companionship.
However, in between the nights nestled together for warmth, and days on the open land, doubts came in to the scarred head of Cooper Howard. There was the persisting thought of never being there in the long run. If being feral doe not get him, it is going to be someone else. Or he will just have his body shut down because even he does not know what is going to happen exactly. Or maybe she would realize that being with a ghoul is more of a hinderance rather than a benefit.
“Hey,” she jolted him out of his thoughts, “you alright there, baby? You left for a little while.” Her voice was honey sweet, and lace with concern as she observed her partner.
“Course I’m alrigh’. Let’s go.” He trudged on ahead, leaving the woman to catch up to him yet again. Once in town, they took inventory of what was around them. A few street vendors for food and crafts, a medical shop, a bar, and a little inn that was left from the old days. Walking into the doctor's place, the sterile smell was a welcomed change of pace from the dirty way of. life outside these white walls. Their boots clicked against the hard floor as the saddled up to the counter.
“We don't take your kind here, Ghoul. Go somewhere else.” A man behind the counter spoke, looking up from his ledger. His eyes scanned the deformed man before his gaze landed on the woman next to him.
“Now what can I help you with, little lady?” He leered, teeth yellowed beyond saving in his smile.
“Sixty vials of chems. Now.” She stated. Her face was devoid of any emotion other than contempt. But the man in front of her only saw that as a challenge, while the Ghoul watched.
“Oh. I think we can strike up a deal. Just for you of course.” Once more, he tried to make himself more appealing than he actually was.
“Chems for caps. I have no interest in a man that looks, smells, and acts worse than the foulest of ghouls.” She said bluntly and watched the man's face fall. He shuffled around quietly and produced the sixty vials they requested.
“Sixty chems for one hundred twenty caps.” The doctor eyed the woman nervously for her next movement.
“That sign out front says ‘five chems for three caps.’ Now, the only you're gettin’ a hundred twenty caps from me, is if you supply the appropriate amount of chems. Now, here's thirty-six caps for sixty chems.” Tossing the bottle caps on the counter, the woman kept them just out of reach until the doctor produced what he had promised. He kept to himself while working on grabbing the vials. Once they had swapped hands, she tipped her hat as the duo walked outside.
“Pleasure doin’ business with you.” And with that, they left. She passed the chems to Cooper so he could replenish but he just stood there dumbfounded.
“The hell was that?” He questioned, voice tinged in false fury.
“That was me getting your meds. What's the problem?” She pushed back, wondering what was going on with the Ghoul.
“Why didn't you want him?” Cooper's quiet voice whispered as he kept his eyes to the ground.
“Whatcha talkin’ about baby? What do you mean?” Stepping closer, she tried to get him to look up but to no avail.
“You could have your choice of man. Even one not so… deformed. What are you even doing with me anyways?” There goes his barriers yet again. Howard had perfected building the walls back up around his heart when they would fall down in front of her. But she just stepped closer to him, and pressed her fingerless gloves hand to his cheeks so that she could look in his eyes.
“Coop, I don't want no one else but you,” she started, “I don't want someone not deformed. Most of these men are far uglier inside then out. I can deal with someone not attractive to most people. He just needs to be attractive to me.” By the time she had finished, Cooper was looking her in the eye, and feeling himself crumble.
“Now you gonna make this old cowpoke go soft which is not gonna be too good now, sweetheart.” He drawled out, resting his hands on her hips softly. Pulling her even closer, they stood underneath their hat brims for a moment.
“That's okay. As long as that cowpoke knows I ain't goin’ nowhere for no one. And I'll continue to make sure he believes and knows that. No self doubt on that front. Not on my watch.” She replied, saying them ever so softly.
“What's you say we try and find us a nice spot to camp tonight? Wanna be able to treat you for bein’ oh so kind.” Cooper smirked, finally Slipping right back into the charming ghoul she knew and loved.
“Lead the way, partner.”
#rebelliousstories#writing#cooper the ghoul howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard#cooper howard imagine#the ghoul imagine#the ghoul fallout#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul#fallout imagine#fallout
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tick,tick... boom! | ln4 smau
"i was in the winter of my life, and the men that i met along the road were my only summer"
PAIRING: lando norris x wild fem heiress!reader (born in 🇿🇦)
SUMMARY: y/n was always trouble—pushing buttons, crossing lines. She was a loose cannon. But people were drawn to her, so it's no surprise when y/n and lando norris meet, they hit it off instantly, for better or worse.
WARNING(S): slut shaming, mentions of alcohol + violence, toxicity
A/N: we're just going to pretend tyla's album dropped in '22 pls & ty 😌 i'd really love to hear from you guys—thoughts and all!! <3
creds to the lovely @classiclitfreak for proofreading!!! <33
part 1 |
ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯
ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯
5th of August, 2022 (📍USA 🇺🇸)
landonorris added to his story!
[ caption: let's go 🤙 ]
yourusername added to her story!
[ caption: don't u know? girls just wanna have fun ;) ]
[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more]
tmz_tv
liked by username, username, username and 12,092 others
tmz_tv The self-crowned party girl and heiress to the multimillion-dollar jewellery boutique chain, à la famille, Y/LN, has been spotted clubbing for the 5th consecutive time. And lo and behold, it isn't her first visit of the night.
Y/N and her usual rowdy group of friends were seen arriving at the club, showing no regard for rules as they parked in prohibited areas before disappearing into the famous celebrity hotspot.
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username ugh she's so hot
username oh to be a rich heiress living it up in hollywood
username why does she always dress so skimpy omg she's such a slut
username what happened to girls support girls
username yeah smart ones who don't waste their lives drinking 24/7 smh she should be more like her sister
username why be a hater lmao just keep scrolling if it bothers u
yourfan god the chokehold this woman has on me😩 no one's doing it like her
username and thank fuck for that
Like a hungry tiger, you're on high alert. Sure, you're also a bit drunk, so maybe not as sharp as you'd like to be, but they don't call it liquid courage for nothing. And tonight, that liquid courage is fuelled by the presence of a hot DJ in a booth above you. You've had your eye on him ever since you stepped into this club, waiting for the right moment to make a move.
"Y/N," BF/N slurs, stumbling into you and nearly sending both of you tumbling. You manage to steady yourselves, her leaning heavily on you.
This isn't the first time you've witnessed your best friend like this; she's always been a lightweight, and as usual, it's everyone else's problem.
You slap your hands onto her cheeks, pulling her face close to yours. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Here," she says, squirming out of your grasp and thrusting two half-full shot glasses towards you. You hesitate, but she presses one into your chest, spilling some of the liquid. "Take it."
"Okay, that's it. I'm cutting you off," you declare, snatching both drinks from her and downing the burning liquid in one gulp.
"Aw," she pouts. "Boo, Y/N. You can't cut me off; my card's on the tap tonight."
"Well, that's too bad."
Standing on your tiptoes, you scan over the dozens of heads until you spot a familiar face in the crowd—one of your guy friends. The moment you make eye contact, you wave him over.
"She's completely out of it. Can you please get her home?" you yell over the music, summoning your sweetest smile and fluttering your eyelashes for extra effect. "Pretty please."
"I am not," BF/N interjects, prompting an eye roll from you before redirecting your focus back to your other friend.
He leans in close, his voice barely audible over the music. "We're all thinking of leaving, actually. This place is kinda lame."
Your shoulders slump as you pull back, peering up at the mysterious DJ you've been eyeing all night.
"Sorry, can't do," you shake your head, meeting your friend's gaze again.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," you sling your arm around his shoulder and gesture towards the DJ booth where the DJ is engaged in conversation with two other guys, "I want to know who that guy in the middle is. He's hot."
"Yeah?" F/N looks at you unimpressed. "Hot like the guy from last night? Or the one from two weeks ago?"
"Ouch," you rub your chest. "Are you trying to tell me something?"
"Yeah, actually," he nods. "I'm telling you that we're leaving, Y/N."
You shake your head and gently cup his face. "Correction, you're leaving."
Before he can object, you quickly add, "Give everyone a kiss from me, please. And don't worry, I'll text you when I get home. Pinkie promise."
You hold out your pinkie finger expectantly, but when he doesn't respond, you sigh and grab his hand with your free one, linking your fingers together.
"See, that wasn't so hard," you say, releasing his hand. As you spin on your heel, you give him one final glance and yell, "By the way, you might want to get BF/N out now. She really can't handle her liquor, if you catch my drift."
A sudden surge of energy courses through you, sending goosebumps down your arms. Whether it's from the earlier shots or not, it gets your heart pumping as you make a beeline straight for the DJ booth.
"Now or never," you mutter under your breath, stretching your neck from side to side.
Once you catch sight of the back of the DJ’s curly dark hair, you tap his shoulder.
The moment your eyes meet, your lips curve into a smile. "Hey you."
The guy offers a wide grin, exposing the small gap between his front teeth. "So she speaks," he says.
You chuckle. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing much," he shrugs, scratching his nose. "I was just wondering if staring was all you could do or if you'd actually come and say hi, you know? I don’t bite."
"Well, I do," your voice rings out huskily as you appraise him for a couple of seconds. He's wearing a loose blue shirt unbuttoned almost all the way down. "I had to make sure you weren’t the type of person I'd eat alive." Extending your hand to him, you add, "Congrats, you're not. I'm Y/N."
"Happy to have made the cut," he laughs, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you slightly forward so that your hands are the only thing separating your bodies. "Lando," you feel his warm breath against your face.
A trail of tingles shoots down your spine as you simply gaze up at him with an unwavering smile. "I think we're going to have lots of fun."
"Let's," he nods, dragging his finger over his bottom lip.
landonorris added to his story!
[ caption: 📸 ]
yourusername
liked by yourbestfriend, tyla, landonorris and 382,050 others
yourusername never had a pretty girl from joburg see me now and that's what they prefurrr 💋
view all 4,035 comments
username guys pack it up we've lost him😭 first lando's story and now he's in the likes??? i feel sick
username Y/N AND LANDO???? SAY IT AINT SO
username that man cannot handle a baddie pls be serious lmaoo
tyla hottie
yourusername u xx
username i need you both expeditiously😩
username the caption??? when i first heard the song i immediately thought of u queen 🫶
username oooh she's taking it😍
yourbestfriend mami
yourusername bbg xx
username stay away from lando bitch
username nurse he's out again
6th of August, 2022 (📍USA 🇺🇸)
f1gossipofficial
liked by username, username, username and 14,085 others
f1gossipofficial Lando Norris appears to be thoroughly enjoying his summer break, as he was photographed leaving the popular celebrity hotspot on Hollywood Blvd with the wild child Y/N L/N last night. Earlier, he had shared a photo to his story, featuring a woman fans presume to be Y/N.
Witnesses claim they seemed to be very close throughout the entire night, "practically glued to each other." Could there be a new WAG in the paddock soon?
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username he should redirect all that energy into winning races smh
username I see nothing but facts
username he's on literal break rn lmao r u ok?😭
username i wish I could protect him😭 she's such a bad influence omg
username u don't know either of them weirdo
username if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck it's a fucking duck. y/n is a red flag period
username 😕
username a win is a win🇿🇦🇿🇦
username iktr😌 (hello my fellow south african🤝)
9th of August, 2022
yourusername posted to her story!
[ caption: europe bby ]
[ tagged: yoursister ]
11th of August, 2022 (📍France 🇫🇷)
yourusername
liked by landonorris, ayanakamura_officiel, lando_jpg and 401,957 others
tagged: yoursister, yourfriend, yourfriend + more
yourusername au revoir france, you've been v fun mwah xx
view all 3,975 comments
yoursister love you little sis ❤️❤️
yourusername ily more <3333
username step on me pls🧎
username MY WIFE ❤️😍🤞
username she's mine ✨
landonorris finally
(liked by author)
username crying and throwing up😭😭
username i thought you'd be different. turns out you're just a man☹️
username now what are y'all up to hmmm???
username ARGHHSH NOOO NOT LANDO LIKING FROM BOTH ACCOUNTS???? SICK BEHAVIOUR
username rip to us🥲
ayanakamura_officiel 😍
yourusername missing u already xx
12th of August, 2022 (📍Monaco 🇲🇨)
landonorris added to his story!
[ caption 1: (I told her to put the finger down☝️) ] | [ caption 2: 👅 🤙 ]
[ tagged: yourusername ]
yourusername added to her story!
[caption: here's to new friends in monaco 💋 ]
[tagged: landonorris, yourfriend, + more ]
19th of August, 2022 (📍Monaco 🇲🇨)
24th of August, 2022 (📍Monaco 🇲🇨)
yourusername
liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend, landonorris and 395,003 others
tagged: yourfriend, landonorris + more
yourusername august '22 with some favs xxx
view all 5,825 comments
username lando yeah MOVE from my girl
username 🤣🤣
landonorris again soon ✈️
(liked by author)
username can y'all slow down like I've still not recovered from 2 weeks ago😮💨
username ugh why lando she's literally such a slut
username right?? he can do sm better
username oh to be an unemployed rich girl living off my parents money😩
username wdym lmao she does brand deals and she's a brand ambassador for loads of things
username well it aint quite the same as working 9-5 at walmart is it?? like I'd fucking swap any day bffr😭
username is- is this a launch??? is the single era finally over omg
username y/n we miss u in the states baby😢
username fuck no. the paparazzi there are so fucking horrible, she's better off in monaco
username ig you're right I'm still sad tho😭
username when are u coming back home???🇿🇦🇿🇦
yourbestfriend ugh stop being so hot (pls come back home the kids miss u😞)
yourusername 🏃♀️🏃♀️🏃♀️
10th of September, 2022 (📍Italy 🇮🇹)
f1gossipofficial
liked by username, username, username and 13,054 others
f1gossipofficial Just confirmed by Italian F1 fans: Y/N L/N, currently linked with Formula One driver Lando Norris, has landed in Italy. Pictures above were sent to us by individuals present at the airport during her arrival.
Speculations are rife that her presence might be related to the upcoming race tomorrow. Could we witness their official debut as a couple and Y/N's debut as a WAG tomorrow?
view all 1,077 comments
username I don't get the hate she seems nice enough
username she is!!! she was so sweet, she literally took a picture with all of us even tho the paparazzi were so fucking annoying
username yh bc it's an act and u're falling for it smh she has a weird aura
username 🤢🤢🤢🤢
username ik lando's dj era was gonna be troublesome wtf
username he has very questionable taste...
username how? she's hot
username yeah cause it'd be much better if he dated u lmao y'all are delulu
username is it just me who's concerned?🥲 I feel like ever since they started hanging out he's just been partying every single day
username yeah his last two races were pretty shit ngl...
yourusername posted to her story!
[ caption 1: bottoms up baby 👅 ] [caption 2: late night pizza in italy?? FUCK YEAH ]
[tagged: landonorris, damianodavid, yourfriend + more ]
11th of September, 2022 (📍Italy Grand Prix 🇮🇹)
f1news
liked by username, username, username and 25,892 others
f1news As we all know, Lando Norris has had quite a rough start to the second half of the 2022 season. When asked about his feelings regarding his P15 finish, he said, "Yeah, it was a rubbish performance, no excuses for that. I'm very disappointed. We have a good car at McLaren this year, so I definitely put my hand up and say that this is 100% on me [...]."
He ended the interview with a hopeful message to his fans, "The season isn't over till it's over, and I'm going to keep my head high and push even harder."
view all 2,749 comments
username hey y/n if u're reading this, thanks a lot 🙃
username she's such a fucking red flag omg. and then she doesn't even fucking show up to his race?? what a bitch
username lando isn't blameless here tho. he's a big boy lol if he wants to drink on fucking race night then he's an idiot
username **rubbish performanceS lmao the other 2 races were shit too🤣
username laughs in red bull girl🤭🤭
username aw you could see the tears he was trying hold back😭😭
username ik it's sad but hopefully this makes him realise he needs to cut y/n off cause she's such a bad influence😕
username I just know he'll be beating himself up for this for soo freaking long omg☹️💔
username onward and forward guys!! I believe in him💪💪
username this!!! we love u lando 🫶🫶
6th of October, 2022 (📍Japan 🇯🇵)
lando.png
liked by yourusername, yourfriend, danielricciardo and 137,056 others
lando.png ok you look good, can I have my camera back now?🤨
view all 2,984 comments
username babe u know how there's these things called lucky charms well, y/n is the opposite of that🙂 hope this helps cause ur races have been shit
username lmaooo I feel bad but u're so valid😭
username lololol the way he'll just continue keeping her around
username so the saga of y/n showing up at the race country but not attending actual race continues🥱 cba anymore
username can y'all not do anything fucking separately?? like wtf
username I spy with my little eye a big fucking 🚩
username ooh I wanna play. hmm lemme guess....Y/N 🤭
username ding ding ding now imagine if lando could see it smh
username oooh the comments?? y/n get behind me quick🤺🤺
yourusername 😋
lando.png 😐
username love you both <33
username day 2936 of neither y/n nor lando confirming or denying the dating rumours 😫
username SICK PEOPLE. THE BOTH OF THEM SMH
8th of October, 2022 (📍Japan 🇯🇵)
yourusername posted to her story!
[ caption 1: i heart japan ] [ caption 2: cheers x ] [ caption 3: bby tonight the dj's got us falling in love again 💋 ]
[ tagged: yourfriend, yourfriend + more ]
9th of October, 2022 (📍Japan Grand Prix 🇯🇵)
The heavy thud of the door falling shut jolts you upright on the bed. You'd let yourself in with a spare card—both of you having each other’s—and simply sank into the bed, waiting. Hours have passed, and your fingers are raw from the incessant needing, twisting, and pulling—a bad habit.
Amidst the pulsing headache tormenting you, another ache tightens your chest: guilt. You pride yourself on your loyalty to friends, so consistently letting them down weighs heavily on you.
"Hey, can we talk?" you whisper as Lando enters the narrow entryway and steps into the hotel room.
He startles, not noticing you at first as his head was bowed. Fixing you with a disappointed look, he sighs, dragging his hands down his face.
"Not right now, Y/N," he says after a moment.
"Come on, I don’t want us to be like this."
“Well, it’s not about you right now,” Lando snaps, dropping his bag onto the ground. “You don’t get to break your promises and then get mad when people get upset about it. That’s not how it works.”
"Alright, fine," you raise your hand in the air. "Be like that then. Be fucking sad and miserable, but without me."
A heavy silence descends upon the room, one you're not inclined to endure. With a groan, you rise from the bed and make a beeline for the door. But just as your hand grips the cool handle, Lando's voice halts you.
"Wait, no, I'm sorry. Don’t go. I shouldn't have snapped at you, please just...don't go."
You ponder his words for a moment before releasing a sigh and spinning around, heading toward the dresser opposite him. Crossing your arms, you perch on its edge and simply wait, eyes fixed on the floor.
For a while, neither of you speaks until Lando breaks the silence. "You didn’t miss anything, you know? The race was shit." You tilt your gaze up, noticing the disappointment etching his face as he adds, "Again."
Your mind goes blank—you're not good at handling emotions. It's why you prefer the single, ready-to-mingle but never-more life. It's why you and Lando are whatever the hell this is. You flirt, and while you would have gladly torn his clothes off the first night you met, now it's different. There are strings attached now, so he's off-limits—your rule.
It's just friendly flirting, you'd say, but you don't even remember the last time he's had someone over on a romantic level. Come to think of it, neither have you, and it makes your skin crawl.
"Uhm," you finally respond with a shrug. "I think that calls for a night out. What do you say?"
"What, celebrate the fact that I’m a pathetic F1 driver? That people think I don’t deserve a place in F1?"
"Well, no," you cock your head sideways, walking up to him and intertwining your hand with his. "Just come and have fun, take your mind off things."
"Okay, fine. For you," he sighs, his warm breath brushing against your skin as he brings your hands to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on each, causing a chill to run down your spine.
Although you don't indulge in emotions, you're no stranger to recognising them: his eyes, fixed on yours, dance between your lips and your eyes, a confession hidden within them. It makes your heart drop.
Naturally, you withdraw your hands from his grasp, forcing a tense smile. "You should go ahead. I'll just get changed and text the others to meet us in the lobby."
Without waiting for a response, you hurriedly exit the room, craving air free from the weight of unspoken emotions.
15th of October (📍USA 🇺🇸 )
yourusername
liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, thegr8khalid and 530,802 others
tagged: landonorris, yourfriend + more
yourusername we're back in the states babyyyyy 🦅🦅
view all 6002 comments
username can she like not go anywhere alone??🙄🚩🚩🚩
yourbestfriend ABOUT👏DAMN👏TIME👏
yourusername 🤭 🤭 ily xxx
username imagine how tired we are y/n😕
username MOTHER IS BACK IN THE MOTHERLAND??? OOH WE'RE SO ONNNN
username so you think you're better than me huh @/yourusername🤨
yourusername stoop😭 u're pretty bby xx
username WAIT I DIDNT THINK YOUD ACTUALY RESPOND HELP ILY😭😭
username cong😭gra😭tu😭la😭tions😭
username 🤢🤢🤢🤢
tatemcrae so hot
yourusername i want u xx
landonorris I think I'm fucking falling in love with you (this comment has been deleted)
landonorris so beautiful
username I SAW UR COMMENT LANDO 🫵👀
username lando pls drop her she's not it🙏
username the way she didnt even interact😭💔
username we're just gonna pretend his comment never existed orr
username wait what? what's this about
username drop the whole photo album NOW
18th of October, 2022 (📍USA 🇺🇸 )
tmz_tv
liked by username, username, username and 31,755 others
tmz_tv In the early hours of the morning, Formula 1 driver Lando Norris was allegedly involved in a club brawl in Austin, Texas. Multiple witnesses claimed to have seen him engage in a physical altercation with an unidentified man, who was reportedly seen with party heiress Y/N L/N.
According to reports, the altercation occurred after Y/N L/N was seen in a close encounter with the unidentified man. Security guards then escorted Norris, L/N, and their friends out of the club, barring them from re-entry.
Once outside, Norris and L/N were observed engaging in a heated argument, exchanging strong language. After the altercation, they reportedly went their separate ways. L/N and a friend lingered in the area for some time, smoking and chatting, before eventually hailing a cab to depart.
Meanwhile, Norris left the scene in his car, departing from the group he had originally arrived with.
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username *pretends to be shocked* y/n has been a slut smh
username no wonder they never confirmed or denied their relationship lmaooo they don't even know themselves🤭
username MY LANDO???? nah y/n needs to stay tf away wtf she's literally changing him 🚩🚩
username I feel like they're toxic for each other...🙁
username no bc ever since they started hanging they've literally just been partying and spiralling I fear (e.g. lando's career)
username it seems like lando likes her more than she him😢
username this is crazy omg? I hope the man who got his shit rocked is fine🙏
username sry but the wording of this is sending me💀💀
username 5 days before the austin gp? papaya girls pack it up he's done😭
username 😣💔
16:38 ───────────ㅇ─ 18:20
#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#f1 imagine#ln4 x you#lando norris smau#lando norris x female reader#lando x y/n#lando norris fanfic#smau#lando norris angst#lando norris imagine#f1 instagram au#fanfic#f1 fic#lando x reader#ln4 fic#f1 scenario#formula 1#lando norris one shot#formula 1 x you
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