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fluffansmut · 9 months

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Eddie and crybaby!fairy!reader is back again for a part three!

This time featuring a special guest!

(Thanks for the idea, @hellfirefiend)

Part one & part two

You and Eddie was sat on the sofa, sharing a cookie, (with you picking crumbsized bits of his fingertips as he tenderly crumbled the cookie bit by bit for you), when there was a knock at the door…

You looked up at Eddie from your spot on the armrest, non verbally asking if he knew who it was…

”stay there baby” he said, and got up from the sofa to get the door.

You watched from your spot as the door flew open and how an excited voice instantly began chatting to Eddie, throwing his arms around him.

The stranger at the door spooked you a bit, cause you still were unsure about humans.. surely not all could be as kind as Eddie right?

You watched the two closely, hoping that the guy at the door would leave quickly, but when Eddie invited the guy into the trailer, your did what your instincts told you to.

You hid.

“Wait here a sec, imma have you meet someone but they need a minute” Eddie said.

But when he turned around to talk to you, you were gone, nothing but crumbs left at your spot on the armrest.

“Where did she go?” He muttered to himself, lifting a pillow, checking underneath it.

“Who?” You heard the guest ask.

“Okay, well, first off, can you promise me that you won’t freak out?”

“Eddie, your being weird… what’s going on?” The guest asked.

“Just promise okay?” Eddie insisted, whilst checking random hiding spots, trying to find you.

“Jeez, Kay I promise, you know I’ve seen a lot of weird shit, I’m sure I can handle it whatever pet you’ve adopted” he said.

“Well, uh, it’s not a pet, definitely not a pet…” Eddie began, scratching his neck. “It’s a.. she is a fairy”

“A what now?!”

“You promised you wouldn’t!” Eddie reminded.

The he guest paused for a second, before he glanced back at Eddie,

“So..a fairy?”

“Yes.” Eddie confirmed. “And she’s not super used to hanging out with humans, she has just about gotten used to Wayne… so my guess is that she’s hidden, and now we gotta find her.”

He agreed to help Eddie and they began turning over almost everything in search of you.

You watched them over the edge of the Garfield mug that you sat inside. They looked quite funny, as they rummaged around, just funny enough for you to let out a giggle.

The guest did react to it, but Eddie could recognise that sound anywhere.

“Hey Dustin? Could you check my desk? It’s a popular hiding spot..” Eddie lied, trying to get a moment alone with you.

Fortunately he agreed and stomped off towards the bedroom, and soon enough you felt the mug being lifted, and when you glanced up you saw a familiar face.

Eddie smiled down at you, instantly calming some of your nerves.

“Grew to nervous?” He guessed.

You nodded, shamefully admitting that you were.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay, totally fine.” Eddie said, soothing your nerves. “It just my friend, he’s totally harmless, and he is looking forward to meeting you. Do you want to meet him?”

You pondered the question for a minute, but in the end you decided to trust Eddie and said.

“Okay, Eddie”

Eddie smiled down at you again, as he clutched the mug tenderly in both his hands.

“Hey Dustin! I found her” he called out, not taking his eyes of you.

The one who you now presumed was Dustin returned.

“Now, take it easy, she’s quite a shy little one.” He said, before holding out the mug and letting Dustin look down into it.

“Oh my god,” Dustin mumbled as you felt his gaze fall upon you. “This is awesome.”

You didn’t dare to look up at him, and instead stayed curled up in the mug.

Eddie could feel the apprehension and anxiety radiating off you, so he slipped his little finger into the mug. It took mere seconds until he felt you cling to it. He continued to talk to Dustin whilst he drafted a plan to get you to come out of your shell a bit more.

“Don’t you think you would’ve been more comfy in my hand, baby?” He asked.

“Yes please, Eddie” you said, taking him up on the suggestion instantly.

He plucked you out the mug by the wings and set you down in the palm of his hand, where you got to work with the activity you invented a couple of day before, spinning Eddies rings round his fingers. (Which was quite a task for someone your size)

The boys continued on with their conversation and you kind of zoned out.

“I know that I put an other dimensional monster in my tortious tank, but this, this is a new kind of weird.” Dustin said.

This made you look up, Eddie had promised that he was nice and now he called you weird…

You crossed your arms and huffed in his general direction.

“What’s got you all grumpy?” Eddie asked.

You didn’t answer, instead you shot Dustin a dirty look.

Eddie put the tip of his pointer finger under your chin, turning you to meet his eyes.

“I know you and somethings up, so can you please tell me so I can make it better?” Eddie asked.

You eyed Dustin who watched you in confusion and total awe, you didn’t want him to hear that the comment got to you. So instead of telling Eddie straight up you fluttered away and hid in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Sweetheart” Eddie said with a sigh.

Your eyes got all teary as you sat there clinging with both your arms around a strand of his hair.

“He called me weird” you mumbled.

“Oh, baby” Eddie said, picking you up, “ he didn’t mean it like that, right Dustin?”

You let your gaze slide between Eddie and Dustin.

There was some ruckus beneath that table and then Dustin exclaimed;

“Ow why did you kick …” he began before he made eye contact with Eddie, who lead his gaze to you. “I’m sorry, that true, it’s not you that’s weird, it’s the situation, you are truly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen”

You gave Eddie a look, as if to check if he was telling the truth, and when Eddie gave you a reassuring nod you smiled widely at Dustin.

“You should really come with Eddie to hellfire”Dustin suggested. “The others would go crazy”

“Now let’s take one thing at the time” Eddie said with a chuckle.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #crybaby!reader #eddie munson x fairy!reader #fairy!reader

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sturnmaee · 4 months

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Below the Table.

requested: yes!!

summary: y/n has to find a fake boyfriend who will convince her family during their fancy dinner, little do they know what’s going on below the table.

warnings: smut, fake dating trope, matt sturniolo x reader.

word count: 1,498!! (a little longer than usual)

“and you won’t believe what i said next!” i cried out to the triplets, they all stared at me while sitting on the edge of their lounge chairs.

“cmon, tell us already!” chris giggled

“you’re killing us!” nick added.

i finally calmed down my laughter and got the words out “i told them i had a boyfriend! so now i have to find one before tonight!” i cried, burring my face into my hands while still giggling.

i looked over to matt, his face an unusual shade of pink.

“you’re fuckin’ with us,” said nick while his jaw was still hanging past his knees, “you haven’t had one since freshman year!”

“i know! i know, i’m just so sick of them teasing me about it” i replied.

“well y/n, you just created yourself a shitty night!” giggled chris while getting up. i rolled my eyes teasingly, matt still sitting quietly in the corner.

“matt did you hear what y/n just said!” wheezed nick while punching his arm, bringing him back to life.

“oh, um yea” he said quietly, looking straight back down at his phone.

“oh my god. y/n, i’ve found your date for tonight.” nick said while holding matt’s shoulders and giving him a shake, “he’s perfect for you, look how cute he is!” he said while jokingly holding matt’s face.

"what, no way, i don't want to drag poor matt into my family drama" i said while staring at matt who now had an innocent smile on his face.

"i don't mind y/n, plus it will give me an excuse to get out of the house." he said eagerly while giving me a small smirk.

"are you sure matt, this means so much you don't understand!" i squealed while getting up to join him and nick. "but no funny business," i said firmly, "this is just to help me convince my family i'm not some loner."

"whatever you say princess." matt said in a joking tone, nick giggling next to him. i couldn't help but laugh with them. "i'll see you at seven."

i finally made it back to my apartment to get ready for dinner. i stood in front of my mirror in my favourite tight black dress, admiring my curves while clipping on my earrings when suddenly the doorbell rang, matt. i rushed over to the door, my heels tapping along the floor. i opened the door for him while still trying to fix my earrings.

“hey i’ll be out in a sec.” i said while focusing on grabbing my handbag and phone.

“holy shit,” matt whispered, taking in my body with his eyes, “why have i never seen you dressed like this before.” he added.

“ew matt, don’t be weird. remember this is just for tonight buddy.” i said bluntly while stepping out the door, locking it behind me. we made our way to the elevator, matt leading me by resting his hand just above my ass.

“matt get your hand off me.” i said in a jokey tone.

“hey don’t get mad at me im just trying to get into the role.” he replied while the elevator door shut behind us. i couldn’t help but laugh as his lips curled into his perfect smile.

the entrance of the restaurant was crowded with people, i could feel my nerves bubbling in my stomach. we made our way over to the large table, my family shining radiant smiles in our direction.

“oh honey!” my mother said happily while pulling me into a hug “why have you been hiding this handsome man from us?” she questioned while waving a hand at matt, his smile bigger than ever.

“it’s so nice to meet you mrs y/l/n.” matt said, his voice clear and sweet.

we made our way around the table, greeting all my family members who were more than excited to finally meet my ‘boyfriend’. matt pulled my chair out, waiting for me to sit before he did.

“such a gentleman.” i teased, his ocean eyes beaming while being hidden by his dark hair.

about an hour had passed and we all had finished our meals, the rest of my family chatting now.

the restaurant was packed tonight, chatter filling the atmosphere, i could feel my clammy palms lay in my lap while my leg bounced trying to distract myself. matt gave me a worried look before placing his rough hand onto my thigh, giving me a reassuring rub with his thumb.

“it’s okay, don’t stress.” he mouthed. i gave him a warm smile before placing my hand on top of his.

i felt his hand sneaking further up my dress, my face burning up as he brushed my now throbbing clit through my laced panties. my legs bucking below the table, a small smirk painting his face as he continued to tease me. i shot him a look before being interrupted by one of my family members.

“are we ready for the bill lovebirds?” my father said with a smile on his face, unaware of what was happening below the table.

“yes sir.” matt replied while still teasing me. i felt my breathing pick up, my core begging for release.

“alright then, it was lovely meeting you matthew, you two have an amazing night.” my parents said happily.

“are you serious matt?!” i said jokingly while watching him grip the steering wheel of the van.

“just part of my role princess.” he replied with a grin on his face.

his ring clad hands looking perfect as he pulled into the parking lot, the headlights beaming. “want me to walk you up?” he questioned. i nodded happily in response. i made my way over to the elevator, feeling his presence behind me as we got in.

“you look beautiful tonight y/n/n.” he said as the elevator dinged. a blush taking over my cheeks.

“we don’t have to pretend any more matt nobody’s around.” i joked in response while jamming the keys into my door, matt still behind me as i stepped inside.

his deep eyes meeting mine, as he unbuttoned his black tux. his hair sitting perfectly above his eyes as they take me in.

“i don’t want to pretend anymore y/n.” he said with a raspy voice making his way closer to me.

“what do you mean by that matty?” i said knowing full well what he meant, my core begging for him.

his body inches away from mine as he grabbed my hips, arching me into him, my breathing hitched at the sudden friction of his bulge pushing against me. “you know exactly what i mean, stop being such a tease.” he whispered into my ear before kissing my neck. a quiet moan slipping past my lips. before i could even respond he gripped me by my ass and carried me to my room. placing me gently on the bed not daring to break our kiss.

he pulled away roughly, “you’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asked while running a thumb over my bottom lip.

“more than okay.” i said while out of breath and trying to remove my dress.

he smiled while leaving a kiss down my neck, helping me take off my dress. my red bra and matching panties exposed. his eyes burned holes into my skin as be took me in. “god you’re gorgeous.” he said rushing to undo his belt, throwing it to the floor before removing every last bit of clothing.

his cock now in his hand, tip red and drooling with precum. his finger hooked around my soaked panties before pulling them to the side. his tip now teasing my swollen clit. before i could get a word out he had bottomed out inside me hitting places i’ve never felt before.

“oh god matt!” i whimpered while gripping the sheets for support.

my pleas only driving him more, his pace picking up as the most angelic moans left his mouth. his silky hair bouncing with every thrust.

the familiar knot was growing tighter in my core as i clawed into his back. “i’m so fucking close matt.” i managed to say in between moans of pleasure.

his thrusts growing sloppier as he gripped my breast, hard enough to bruise, pornographic moans spilling from my lips as a wave of pleasure took over my body.

my tight walls now clamping down onto his veined cock, his head flying back in pleasure. he gave three hard thrusts leaving me seeing stars before filling me with long, warm ropes of thick cum.

“o-oh god.” he whimpered while falling on top of me, his arms still flexing as he held most of his weight up.

my breathing was still heavy as he lied next to me on his side, his arm propping up his head while he traced circles with his finger tips over my smooth skin.

“what happened to no funny business?” he teased while giggling.

i jokingly pushed him away, but before i could give him a response, he moved his face closer to mine leaving a soft kiss on my lips before brushing the hairs out of my face.

this was so rushed i’m so sorry 😓

i also hate the ending, but i hope you all enjoy 😘😘

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #fanfic #smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader

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lowkeyrobin · 22 days

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hiii!! you are literally blessing tumblr rn with your trevor fics omg... anyways!! i was wondering if i could request a trevor spengler x fem!reader in which reader comes in with a ghost issue and the ghostbusters have to help her and almost immediately trevor wants to impress her with his "skills"... i think that would be super cute!! just her explaining the situation with the ghost and trevor is trying to act all cool and collected.. i hope that makes sense!!! thank you so much!

awe thank you!! glad to be serving you guys ; and yeah ofc ! only thing is I only write gn readers so I apologize for that, but I don't think I referenced pronouns or anything referring to gender at all so 👍 ; thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy

TREVOR SPENGLER ; impression

summary ; Trevor trying to win you over with his "skills" and knowledge of being a ghostbuster

warnings ; language

word count ; 665

masterlist

"It's in the kitchen" You say, leaning against the door as you close it behind Trevor and Phoebe. Callie and Gary look to the kids, silently asking if they could do it on their own.

The pair nod, letting the adults sit on the stairs in front of the door. You lead the teens into the kitchen, showing them Slimer, eating everything out of your fridge.

"Fourth time this month. It stayed long enough for me to able to call" You inform quietly, watching Trevor beside you nod, Phoebe looking on with a bit of disgust and confusion. "He's a nice little guy, but I can't afford it in this economy"

"Yeah, we can take care of that for you," the boy replies, a quiet tone shaping his words so as not to scare the ghoulish creature raiding your fridge. He looks over at you, clearly a look in his eyes like he wanted to impress you for some reason.

Phoebe rolls her eyes and grabs a trap off the side of her proton pack, handing it to Trevor. "Go on, impress them"

"I'm not-" Trevor quickly speaks, then sighs, "Whatever"

He quietly sets up the trap, avoiding Slimer, now sitting on the floor, infecting the floorboards with its green goop. He stands back, crouched down in the doorway, foot on the lever of the trap. The proton thrower rests in his arms, finger on the trigger as he tries to lure Slimer toward the trap, hidden behind the doorway.

Unfortunately, the plan didn't work how Trevor wanted, now covered in green slime.

"Shit" He mumbles, wiping the goo off of his face.

You chuckle with a little smile, looking to Phoebe who gave you that "make him stop" look.

"Sorry, uh.." Trevor awkwardly says, gathering the trap to hand it back to Phoebe. "That obviously didn't go how it was intended"

"It was still impressive, I've never seen someone with so much patience try to do this before" You say, purposefully trying to boost his ego.

He smiles, "Yeah, uh, well... I'll clean all this up for you." He wipes some more slime off of himself, trying to move it to the floor for easier cleaning. "Uh, where's your mop?"

You point to a closet in the hallway, leading him to the cleaning supplies. Phoebe pulls you away, telling Trevor that you needed to speak with Callie and Gary for a moment.

"You've got an impressive son out there, ma'am," you say with a smile, quickly catching focus of her kind and comforting presence. "He's a real gem"

"Oh, yeah" She smiles, "He's a special one. Kind boy, I swear"

Phoebe looks at her mom with the same look. "Are you trying to wingman for Trevor?"

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"This is the power level indicator, and that's the intensification button, to like, up the anti, yknow?" Trevor explains, showing you how the proton thrower worked, trying to find any sense of interest in your eyes.

Luckily, your facial expression showed that clearly, as you were actually paying attention to him and the explanation of how his gear worked. You nod in response to him, trying to think of a question to ask to not make things weird.

"So, like, what do protons do? Like, to ghosts?"

"Oh!" He smiles, thanking whatever force was out there that you asked a question he could answer. "Basically-"

"Basically, he wants to go on a date with you" Phoebe quickly buts in, walking past with a smug smile for Trevor.

He quickly looks back to you, eyes widened. "Uh, don't listen to her!"

"I mean, I'd like that," you shrugged. "I'm impressed. That's what you wanted, right? I'll go out with you"

He blinks a few times, trying to make sure he'd heard you correctly. "Uh, oh my God, uhm, okay!" He nods. "Did I actually impress you?"

You smile and nod, giving him the answer he wanted, and you knew was the truth.

"You owe me twenty dollars, Phoebe!"

#lowkeyrobin #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters x reader #trevor spengler #trevor spengler x reader #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #gn! reader

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cupidsyndrome · 3 months

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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ THE OTHER WOMAN.

🏹 HURT / FALSE COMFORT, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP. 675 WORDS. 💌 it's easy to forget the ring on his finger whenever the two of you are together. 🩷 cw. suggestive. mentions of cheating. ran being manipulative, reader being delusional.

ran haitani has a wife.

you’ve known it since the beginning– he told you all about her. marital struggles laid bare before you– heated arguments, desire for divorce, you’ve heard it all. ten months have passed since the day you’ve started fooling around with him– ten long months where you’ve continuously believed in his words. you know it’s a bad thing to do, a bad thing to wish upon another woman; you can’t help it. not when he’s always so gentle, so nice with you.

you’ve met his friends. you’ve even met his brother. you’ve seen how their gazes shifted from ran to you– full of confusion, perhaps even a little bit of judgement. but as he makes you sit on his lap, looking all proud of his possession– you find it hard to care. ran haitani is nothing if not an enigmatic man. it’s easy to get lost in him– trying to solve the puzzle of his words, searching for hidden meanings behind each promise. clandestine meetings and poisonous gifts become a routine you’ve grown accustomed to.

he’s always there. when you leave work, ready to pick you up. when you’re on your day off, ready to whisk you away on yet another one of his rendezvous.

the lines between an affair and a relationship got blurry some time ago, when he introduced you as his girlfriend (you were always his ‘friend’, before that day)-- your heart had skipped a beat that night. it’s a foolish thing, falling in love. delusions eat your mind away, offering your heart on a platter for a man you could never truly have.

the nights shared with him are the worst. the divine ecstasy shatters when your eyes open, and the ring dangling around his neck taunts you. jealousy tugs at you, begging you to do something– and you succumb to its order. your teeth sinking into his neck, imprinting a scarlet mark of your own. it doesn’t faze him– nothing ever does. does he know the meaning of it all ? you’re unsure– it’s hard to tell with him.

i love you.

everything comes crashing down on a random friday. you’re getting home from work– sitting next to him while he silently drives. the confession spills from your mouth before you can even stop yourself. you’ve thrown up the words, your body purging itself of that sinful secret.

ran doesn’t answer– doesn’t acknowledge you.

it’s hard not to notice the way his body had stiffen, hands flexing as his jaw hardened. you want to take it all back, you want to beg him to forget about what you’ve said. you’re just as frozen as he is. vision blurring, hands tightly gripping onto the seatbelt. the air is thick with tension and you’re dreading the moment you’ll have to get out of the car.

the engine stops.

you’re home.

“what do you know about love ?” the bite in his voice makes you jump. it makes you feel like an idiot– like a child, and maybe that’s what you are. you’ve never seen him like that– fox eyes that you’ve grown so used to feeling suddenly oh-so foreign. it’s humiliating. “don’t ever say that shit again.” your throat tightens and tears start streaming down your cheeks– it’s only when you hiccup that you realise just how miserable you are. you hear him sigh, and you’re preparing yourself for whatever he has to say.

his hand reaches out for your face, slender fingers gently wiping your tears away. “don’t cry, baby,” there it is again– that softness reserved for you. “that was mean of me, uh ?,” he asks and you shake your head. it’s an automatism– no, you’re not mean, you’re right. as you uncontrollably sob, you find yourself wishing to comfort him. “it’s just– don’t make this weird, okay ? we’re good, let’s keep it that way.”

you agree.

ran haitani has a wife and your heart aches for the day he’ll finally keep his promise. until then, being the other woman isn’t as agonising as not having him at all.

#cupid's arrows #ran haitani x reader #ran x reader #tokrev scenarios #ran haitani scenarios #tokyo revengers scenarios #ran scenarios #tokrev angst #ran haitani #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #ran smut #tokrev smut #ran haitani smut

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artists-ally · 5 months

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Hi Ally! First of all congrats on your many followers! You're so talented and you deserve everything <3

If you're up for it, could you maybe write some HC about Harvey having a relationship with a younger gf/how he would feel dating someone who is younger than him and maybe also what their dynamic in the relationship is like. Thank you so much!

{Valentine} Reader x Harvey HC

Hi babes thank you so much for your request!!!! Sorry I’ve been a little off the Harvey train recently but I’ve got a SHIT LOAD coming your way very soon. I actually just got into a relationship with an older guy (he’s seven years older than I am 😀😀) so this was actually super nice to write because I literally feel all of these feelings. Enjoy!!!

Tagging: @rosedpetal

~~~~~~

So I think Harvey wouldn’t mind having a younger partner

To him it’s not about age, it’s maturity level

He really wants someone who would be able to keep up with him and his busy lifestyle

But also needs someone to bring out that younger side of him and make him have some fun every now and then

You’re really good at both

Being nearly 12 years younger than he is, it was weird at first for sure

The constant worry if you’re TOO young for him, what everyone else would think

But once he showed you that he’s a man and not a boy, it quickly became apparent that the age difference wasn’t going to be a problem

You knew when to be serious and how to take care of yourself, but you also lovveeddd how dependent he became on you

He understands things from your perspective

He knows when to tone it down, or bring out that energy he keeps hidden away ;)

This is his first serious relationship in YEARS and he is trying like hell to not fuck up because he loves you

LOVES you

Loves everything about you

Legit everything

Especially all the shit you do unconsciously like tying your left shoe before the right or playing with your hair when you’re really focusing on something

Harvey isn’t the type to push it in your face about how much older he is, or make fun of you for how much younger you are

He likes that you’re younger

That you’re ambitious and have yet to find out exactly what you want to do in life

He’s here to support you 100% and wants to be along for the ride

Again, you make him feel younger again

And that he loves most of all

Getting to feel like a teenager and having fun keeping up with you

People can see the age difference and it definitely turns some heads now and then, but eventually you stopped giving a fuck

#harvey x reader #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter #suits fanfiction #suits #harvey specter suits

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hopefulromances · 9 months

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my queen is back 😭😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍

just a little thought, a kindergarten teacher that has this girl-next-door/miss honey/sweetest human ever vibe and jamie meets her and is just ✨️lovestruck✨️ and maybe little snippets of how their relationship evolves, sorry if it's a lot 😭😭😭 I had a dream about this

I'm here again! I hope I can do this justice! This is such a sweet prompt!

The first time he saw her, she was carrying a large box of - what looked like - homemade planets. He was coming home from a run as she tried to open the door to her car while juggling the large box in one hand. Trying and failing he should add. Being the gentleman he is, Jamie ran over to assist.

"Here let me help you," he said, taking the box out of her hands.

"Oh, thank god," The woman sighed out, straightening up. Finally, Jamie could see her fully. She was wearing a space themed dress and wearing Saturn earrings. She smiled brightly at him as she opened the door. "That was a real struggle."

Jamie was fucked.

She looked between him and the box before moving to take the box out of his hand. Jamie snapped out of his stupor in time to move out of her way. "Let me... there we go."

He place the box down in the car, dusting his hands off. "That's a new PR for me, lifting the entire solar system."

The woman laughed and Jamie thought he could feel his heart leap out of his chest. He smiled at her, liking the idea that he could make her laugh.

"I'm a kindergarten teacher," She explained, motioning to her whole outfit. "Today is planets."

Jamie's eyes shot down and up, trying to be discrete as possible in his checking out of her body. "Gotcha... solar system, makes sense. Gotta teach them the about the mother serving pasta or something."

The woman laughed again, her hands flying up to cover her face. "I think you mean noodles. Or nachos as some people say."

He felt himself smiling again. The woman was blushing, trying to keep her face hidden behind her hands. He held out a hand for her.

"I'm Jamie."

She took his hand, finally revealing her blush fully to him. "(Y/N). And I know who you are." Jamie's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Fuck, sorry, that sounds weird, my boyfriend... or ex-boyfriend I should say, was a big football fan."

Ex-boyfriend, huh? So, she was single then. "Well I hope you still support."

"I do" she answered quickly. "I definitely do."

She blushed again. God, that was cute. The two stood in silence, smiling at each other for at least another minute before (Y/N) looked down at her watch.

"Oh, shit! I have to go!" She cursed, starting to turn around. She mad a 360, trying to find herself before turning back to face Jamie. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll see you around. Thank you for your help." She grunted as she ran into her side mirror. "Fuck, sorry, I'll uh... I'll see you around."

He waved at her as she got in the car and started to back up. As she did, on the other side of the driveway, Roy stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You stopped your workout to fucking flirt?"

...

The next time he saw her, he was doing a charity event for the local elementary school. Roy had set it up through Phoebe's school to get some of the team to go play with the kids. And lo and behold there she was with her little class.

Today, she was wearing a dress that had a football pitch decoration on it with football earrings to accompany it. She was busy making sure all the kids were in line, ready to meet the footballer that she she didn't notice him come in.

But one of the boys pointed at him and shouted excitedly.

"It's Jamie Tartt! Jamie Tartt!" He cried out standing up. (Y/N) turned and saw him, her blush returning to her cheeks. She covered her cheeks with her hands and turned to calm the boy down.

Jamie smiled and walked over to the lad.

"Hello, there," he greeted crouching down to the boys level. "Have you been a good lad today?"

The boy nodded furiously, suddenly becoming very bashful. He grabbed onto (Y/N)'s dress and hid behind her skirt. She knelt down and whispered in his ear.

"My name's Simon," he stated loudly, holding out his hand.

Jamie shook his hand and smile. "Nice to meet you, Simon. I'm Jamie." The boy giggled pulling hand back to hide his face. "Do you want to play some football with me and my friends."

Jamie nodded over to where Sam and Isaac were standing. Simon nodded again reaching his hands out from Jamie. Jamie took the boy and hoisted him over his head so he sat on his shoulders. "Alright let's go, lads!"

The boys stayed for much longer than they were required to. Play with the children for several rounds of football and several set ups of headers until one boy hit the ball too hard and broke his nose. After that, they finished up by signing whatever the kids handed to them from jerseys to notebooks and even an eraser.

After all the children left, Jamie found his way back to you.

"So, you teach kindergarten," Jamie mused, walking up to you.

"I teach kindergarten," she agreed, turning to look at him. "And you are excellent with children."

"Would you want to get drink tonight?" Jamie's question surprised himself. (Y/N) raised her eyes and surprise and that blush that Jamie loved so much came over her cheeks.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be done in a few minutes, would you wait?"

"Yes I would, definitely."

...

Well the first date went well. And so did the next date and the date after that and soon it'd been a few months and they'd been seeing each other regularly. (Y/N) started going to games and every now and then she's come to school with gifts for the students, which they all loved.

Jamie loved to pick her up from work. She always worked later than she should and Jamie figured out just the perfect time to get her as she was leaving. Today Jamie had picked her up along with some Chinese take out for a relaxing night in. She was sitting on the couch, leaning against him, showing him the papers she was grading as Jamie fed her fried rice.

"Simon still talks about you in all of his writing," She told him, making a mark on the paper.

"Honestly, babe, how you can read that shite is impressive," he commented squinting his eyes at the paper.

"Please, your handwriting is way worse," she teased, marking an 'A' at the top of the page.

Jamie scoffed in faux offense. "My handwriting is not that bad."

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!" Jamie grabbed her sides, tickling her aggressively . (Y/N) let out a squeal and desperately tried to get away from him but Jamie just grabbed her and pulled her back into him.

"Jamie!" She giggled, her cheeks turning red. "Stopppp!"

"Tell me that my handwriting isn't the same as a kindergarteners," Jamie demanded, never letting up his torment.

"Fine! Your handwriting isn't quite as bad as the kindergartners."

Jamie finally let up, letting (Y/N) catch her back as she fell back into him. As she laid there, head on his shoulder, letting out a chuckle as she caught her breath, Jamie felt something shift inside him.

"Hey... I love you."

Her eyes widened and she turned to look up at him. "Really?"

He nodded, his own cheeks turning red under her gaze. She shifted, turning around and resting her hands on his chest. She leaned down and kissed him softly. Jamie made a noise of appreciation as she did, his hand coming up to rest on her neck.

"I love you too, sweet boy."

And that is how Jamie fell in love with a kindergarten teacher.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble night

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youthereader · 3 months

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Gator catches you.

PAIRING: gator tillman (fargo) x teenage fem!reader

SUMMARY: 2.4k. Gator finds you on the edge of town after he lets you get away.

RATING: e; NONCON, mentions of underage drinking and drug use, reader is an 18 year-old high schooler, unprotected anal sex, vaginal fingering, public sex, gaslighting, angst, dead dove do not eat

A/N: this took a much darker turn than the first part. I didn't plan on writing more for this character but a couple people wanted more. this is a dark fic, so if it's not your jam, turn away now.

Part 1. (Gator blackmails you.)

You sense that your friends are suspicious after Gator Tillman caught you and not them that night. They ask about what happened and you lie, saying you managed to talk your way out of it, he let you go with a warning.

They’re thankful, initially, because you never ratted on them, though they deserved it for ditching you. Then you feel them start to pull away from you, especially after you blow a couple of your male friends at parties. It’s not like you, and that’s the point. You’re chasing a high you can’t get from guys your age. You blow them, and they enjoy it, but what makes you a target from then on is how quickly it happened. Two guys in the space of forty-eight hours.

Rumors start around school and it eventually gets back to you, that you’re a slut now, and random guys that have never spoken to you before ask for your Snapchat and harass you in-between classes about hanging out on weekends. The attention is weird, and so obvious. You’ve never been known for anything before, and now you exist.

The emptiness you feel from hooking up since Gator frustrates you, but nothing is worse than how unsatisfied you feel every time you make yourself come. The relief is so fleeting, that within seconds of finishing you need more. No fantasy is enough, and you’re at it night after night, not sleeping enough.

Your grades aren’t suffering yet but your homeroom teacher asks to see you, expressing their concern. They say you’re not yourself, you don’t seem as happy. Honestly, you’re not. Things felt less complicated before. You used to not search the main road of town for anyone. You used to want to be invisible.

To let off steam, you go to a party with those same shitty friends, but this time some college guys are there with weed and pills. You smoke a little, but drink more, end up under one of them but don’t remember much of it. The next morning, a friend pulls you aside, a smirk barely hidden as she asks:

“You know we heard you begging that guy to choke you, right?”

The humiliation hits you and you shake your head. “Fuck off. I’m not into that weird shit.”

“Your kink’s your kink, dude,” she retorts, shrugging. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Shut the fuck up, because it’s not my kink,” you snarl, and her eyes flash with irritation.

“Whatever.”

The anxiety you used to feel when you thought you might have upset one of your friends doesn’t come on as strong this time. You don’t care if they decide to exclude you, not if they’re going to make fun of how you want to fuck.

All you care about is trying to find a way out of this funk, by any means necessary. You hang around one of the guy friends you blew, doing dumb shit that culminates in some light graffitiing. Not exactly your area of expertise, as it turns out.

You realize too late that you’re caught, your friend yelling to run away. In your defense, you’re a little high from a joint you shared earlier, so when the spray can you’re holding is knocked out of your hand, it plays in slow motion. It clatters across the ground in the alley you still occupy, and you turn around, fingers wrapping around your neck as you’re pulled to your feet.

Gator lifts you up, shoving you against the wall, knocking the wind out of you. You cough, hands going to his wrist. His gloved hand doesn’t budge when you try to scratch him off.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he hisses, his eyes alight with amusement.

You can’t breathe, feet kicking him, but he’s stock still as he stares back at you, then glances at your handiwork.

“What the fuck,” he adds, sounding a little amazed. “Since when are you doing this petty shit?”

You can’t reply of course, and he pays you no mind, letting you go. You tumble, your knees breaking your fall, as he moves closer to the wall to inspect it. On the ground, you cough and hold your throat, sure you’re going to puke, but you don’t. The world spins regardless, righting itself in time for you to see him stalking you again. You scamper backwards, and Gator stands over you, hands on hips.

“If I find you by yourself again, you’re dead.”

You wonder what he means, because he’s not threatening arrest this time. Your eyes slip down his front and you spy the outline of his erection. Your fear enticed him again. The thrill that runs through you is like no other, and your chest heaves some more, the air not quite filling you enough.

“Gator –”

He walks away, and in a way, you’re grateful because you don’t know what you would have said to him. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, your neck still aching.

You’re past caring. You can be friendless now, it’s not as if they were helping you to begin with. You go to school, you go home. You do nothing on weekends. You get isolated quickly, predictably. It would be sad if you were your younger self.

You walk alone everywhere when your house feels cramped. You don’t want your parents to worry, they’ve never been particularly invested in your social life to begin with. You slip out one afternoon and find yourself walking along the road Gator drove you down.

You think about him almost constantly, like a low hum in the background you can occasionally ignore, but it’s always there. The sun is starting to set later in the afternoon, the worst parts of winter are over. It’s not snowing anymore, but the air still is fresh, making your of your face tingle.

In your own world, it’s no wonder that a car pulls up by you. The road is otherwise empty, and you know who it is before you even look towards it.

Gator rolls down his window, calling out your name. You glance his way, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter, your face burning.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” you call back, not stopping.

You’ve been waiting for him, for what feels like weeks. Maybe months? Years, if you’re truly honest? You didn’t know you needed him until now. This darkness.

“I told you you’d regret walking alone…”

You stop abruptly at that, glaring at him, and the car rolls to a stop. He gives a grin, takes a long drag of his vape. You say nothing.

“How come I heard you’re fuckin’ random guys for weed?”

“Why would you care?” you throw back. You cringe. “I mean, you’ve got no evidence-”

He smiles again. “I am the law, baby. But I mean if you’re doin’ shit like that, I might need to get checked.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, and turn your heel.

You hear him open his door but you walk on, not sure what you want. If he takes you to the station now, your reputation is hardly worth saving at this point. Must have been one of your so-called friends that started the rumor he heard. If he wants to blackmail you again, is there any point fighting him? You miss him, he fucked you up.

You can’t stop the anger that boils over, when he grabs your arm and jerks you back.

“I’m talkin’ to ya-”

He kisses you on the lips and you bite him on the lip, Gator pulling back with a yell, his fingers going to his lips. You freeze, terrified by your own stupid impulse.

“What the fuck? You fuckin’ bit me?!”

He grabs you by the neck and marches you back, shoving you against the hood of his car. His hips meet your ass and you can’t move, he’s way too heavy though you struggle against him. Whatever desire you have for him, when Gator is angry he is fucking terrifying. You have no idea what he’s capable of. He has a gun, for fuck’s sake, and you’re just some kid sister of his friend’s.

His hand is down the back of your pants and you shriek, his gloved fingers invading your cunt without preamble, the tears springing in your eyes. You grip him back, his low chuckle behind you.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. “You’re over-complicatin’ this…”

You close your eyes, trying to reel it in, the fear… the pleasure beginning to coil in your stomach. You hear the harsh squelches of your cunt being worked, you hear his belt unbuckling–

“Gator, please…”

You blubber, your legs shaking as he yanks your pants down, ridding you of his fingers, only to pin you back down against the cold metal beneath you. He keeps your arms pinned behind you, and you can’t see what he’s doing, you’re forced to listen, to wait.

Everything careens forward as you feel him take a swipe of your juices and move further up, up, up to between your cheeks. You start to sob louder.

“Shh. Shut up!”

“Gator, wait. Wait, please, wait – wait – don’t -!”

He rubs at your puckered hole, the sensation making you whimper and plead. You’re not ready, you’ve never done this before. Your bare ass exposed to him, you’re completely helpless, and you know that’s what gets him off.

“You’re worth freezin’ my balls off,” he whispers, and you know what’s happening next, but you can’t quite believe it.

Not until the first push of the tip of his cock against your asshole, and you tense, whimpering as you squirm beneath him.

“Just relax. Relax!”

You grit your teeth, tears streaming down your face as you feel him push past the first ring of muscle. The pain is like nothing else in your life, and you go still, succumbing to it. He groans, chuckles in awe.

“Holy shit. Holy shit…”

He fills you up, then starts to move back and forth, slow at first. You feel stretched beyond comprehension, like at some point you’ll break. Like he’ll literally tear you open. It burns, until it doesn’t, your body turning lax Gator fucks you hard, but slowly. With each knock of his body against yours, you hear the slap of your skin, your cheek rubbing the hood of his car.

His hand on your ass cheek slips under, and you yelp at the feeling of his hand covering your pussy, brushing the folds as he never stops.

“I gotta-”

He replaces his hand again, having tugged off his glove with his teeth, and he starts to chuckle again, low and a little breathless.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

You don’t bother arguing, because you know you are. There’s no turning back, from how your body just won’t cooperate for you when you need it most. You feel wound tight, Gator on your throbbing clit as his hips smack against your ass.

He unexpectedly tucks his fingers inside your cunt again, the sensation making you tense up again. You wail as he works you, he’s no longer pinning you against the car to stop you from escaping. He dedicates himself to pleasure, yours and his, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he reaches the deepest parts of you.

You feel the sudden urge to pee, panicking. If you struggle, but even with your arms free, you can’t shift his weight, your hands blindly trying to reach behind to shove him off.

You give an almighty shudder and come hard, losing your vision. Your orgasm is long and intense, and like nothing else you’ve managed before. It almost hurts from the intensity of it. You blink back the world as you recover, your empty cunt twitching as Gator wrings his hand.

“Made you squirt…”

He takes hold of your hips and bears down, speeding up his thrusts. He doesn’t stop, and it’s hurting more, with your thighs soaked, his cock working in and out of you without reprieve.

“Can’t get ya pregnant, this was the only way-”

He makes a choked sound and goes still, half falling on top of you, and you know he’s come inside you without checking. You feel him pull out and you wince, and then there’s a trickle down your crack.

He steps back and you take the opportunity to pull your pants up again, panting like he is, leaning on the hood of his car. You’re still in shock, not pulling away when he grabs your chin and kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth.

A beat later he changes his mind, taking hold of your front and pulls you towards the backseat. He opens it and puts you inside, goes to his door and slips back in.

He takes deep a lungful of air, sighing. You stare at your legs, your damp pants. Everything feels warm and sticky, and you’re sweating.

“You okay?” he asks, and you glance at him in the rearview mirror, perplexed.

“What?”

“You came, right?”

You look away. You know why he’s saying that. It’s to make it seem like he’s not guilty of anything. You swallow hard.

“I would’ve… done those things if you’d asked me to,” you say.

He frowns. “What are you talking about?”

You go quiet, and you see he’s driving you home. You can’t believe this happened in broad daylight, thinking that would make a difference at all. Apparently not to Gator.

“Hey, I’ve been followin’ you. It was bound to happen sooner or later to you, since you’re actin’ so dumb and reckless. It’s better it was me than some other guy you don’t know-”

“But I don’t know you,” you retort, your voice hoarse with tears. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. And stop cryin’. It’s a real turn-off.”

“You’re… fucking evil,” you whisper.

He looks at you, turning his head to glare at you through the partition this time.

“Hey, you got off.”

He turns back, and you travel in silence back to your house. There’s no car in the driveway, no-one is home yet. He doesn’t move to get out of the car, your eyes meeting in the mirror.

“You tell anyone, I’ll kill ya.”

You believe him, but you deflate with a kind of weariness instead of turning still with fear like he hoped.

“Yeah, I figured.”

He lets you out, and you walk to your front door without looking back. The kicker is that once he leaves, you take a long time to clean yourself up. You peel off your clothes, smell his come and yours all over you when you stand in the bathroom, the shower running already.

You savor each step of it, seeing pink water in the bottom of the shower. He hurt you, badly, and yet you feel that longing again.

He’s that high you need to chase.

if you're still here, thanks. 🖤 if you want more, hmu.

#gator tillman #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery smut #gator x y/n #gator x reader #gator fargo #gator tillman x reader #dark fic

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weebsinstash · 2 months

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Not me sitting here thinking of the most DISGUSTINGLY SELF INDULGENT shit with platonic yandere dad Lucifer that is actually making my heart hurt 😩❤️

There was a TV series called Lucifer where that devil protagonist could utilize his position as ruler of Hell, the dominion of souls who have sinned, to charm people amd look inside of them to reveal their hidden desires or true evils. He could have them spouting their real feelings or blurting out something they were ashamed of or trying to hide, and he could always sort of generally tell what people were thinking or feeling by looking at them

I can't help but think of Hazbin Lucifer having similar powers. You're a human soul down in his dominion of Hell and he can sense the quivering amd shaking of your spirit when you're lying or concealing something from him. You're sitting around the Hotel depressed and in your mind you think "God I wish I could kill myself a second time" and he's quaking out a shocked WHAT from the other end of the room and it's like, Charlie dude ummmm can your dad READ MINDS? And she's all casual, "oh yeah sure haha there's never hiding anything from him :)" and you're sitting there *duck quack sound effect* as Lucifer has basically now made you priority number 2 (priority 1 is Charlie and you're ALSO a priority for her so... you know...)

Lucifer who finds you depressed and crying and trying to bury all your sorrows in liquor and you're getting so drunk you can barely talk and it breaks his heart as a father, that you can't even walk, can barely string together a sentence, just going from inebriated joy to deep, deep sorrow while still trying to be nice to your friend's dad. He's helping scoop you off the floor as you sob your father never loved you and you deserved to die, that you should've killed yourself a long time ago, and he's asking how old you are, or, how old your soul is now, and when you answer he just looks so pained, "but you're still just a baby" and hugs you tightly as he's basically adopting you right that second

Lucifer who finds you crying/flinching in your sleep like you're having a nightmare and he goes into your head and looks at your memories and sees you're having nightmares of being struck as a child. the devil feeling this deep well of disgust gurgling inside of him as he witnesses for himself how many times you were cruelly abused just for acting like a normal kid, how many times your little heart was broken, how many times your little baby hands reached out for help from someone else only to be pushed away, and suddenly, you start having these weird dreams about being a child again. Charlie catches her dad sitting on your bed at your side while you sleep, combing his fingers through your hair as he all but mind-melds with you and she asks what he's doing. the second he tells her what he's seen and how it makes him feel and what he wants to do, she approves and wants to help

Suddenly you start having all these little dreams of being a kid again, but, they aren't scary dreams anymore... no one is bullying you here... in these dreams, you can run around and play and... and... your big sister Charlie is there. Your big sister Charlie and your dad Lucifer. You're small and vulnerable again and Lucifer will call the two of you his little ducklings as he takes your hands and tells you you've all got to hurry or you won't get good seats, and you feel an actual sense of excitement in your heart as he tells you he's taking you guys to the circus

The dream keeps going and going and it's so wonderful and FUN that at some point Charlie and Lucifer watch your little self break down crying, hugging the demonic pair as tight as you can because you know you're going to wake up and... reality is different. No one... LOVES YOU like you can feel here, and you're just bawling. This dream actually kind of makes you HORRIBLY DEPRESSED because you wake up and realize you don't actually have what you were experiencing, that it's just some weird fantasy your brain is cooking up that makes ot awkward to look at your friend and her dad

Meanwhile in the hotel Alastor is poking his head into your room to see you conked out while both Morningstars sit/lay on each side of you with their eyes closed holding your hands or some shit to form the connection and, Lucifer cracks an eye open to make direct contact with Alastor like "interrupt our family moment or say something to them about this, I fucking dare you" and for some reason, Alastor has a sinking suspicion he shouldn't push this, just this one time, or it might end badly for him...

You're waking up accidentally almost calling Lucifer Dad when you see him because you spend almost every night getting to go to amusement parks and play carnival games and eat ice cream and cotton candy with memories of a sister and father you know you don't actually have, but, wait what? Charlie and Lucifer are actually genuinely pushing to spend more time with you? What a lovely coincidence! You wake up really depressed because your 'family' isn't with you and suddenly Charlie peeks into your room and says Lucifer made pancakes for everyone and you're invited to come and you're practically racing out of bed because, oh boy a chance to recreate Dad's pancakes in real life? And that's his exact intention. He doesn't even fucking care that a certain Louisiana gentlemen is shitting on his cooking; if cooking for the whole hotel gave him an excuse to have a "family breakfast" with you and Charlie in the real world for once, he would do it

You're sitting at the table next to Charlie, awaiting your pancakes that you know were made with love and care, and when Lucifer sets down your plate in front of you, affectionately calling you Ducky just like he's done in all your dreams, you're ready to bawl your eyes out??? You're just sitting there tearing up eating homemade pancakes while Charlie is like about to start sobbing because "family is just so beautiful, waaaaaah" and pulls you and her father into a hug

'Family' huh.... it sounds nice... you wouldn't mind having people actually caring about you and looking out for you... too bad you're underestimating how attached and protective of you they already are...

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #hh #sinprompts

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maddsmallow · 9 months

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" "con, don't you ever fuckin' relax?"

"lieutenant, i'm a machine. i don't need to 'relax'."

"oh fuck you, come on, we're on break. loosen up a little or something. you can chill out from your fuckin' mission for the three minutes it'll take me to smoke this cigarette. and shut your mouth before you go telling me it isn't actually exactly three minutes on average to smoke a cigarette or whatever."

connie closes her mouth. a small addition to her list of missions to accomplish is made: try to appear "relaxed" to appease lieutenant anderson. a raise in friendship means an easier partner to work with, so connie carefully inspects the lieutenant's posture and does her best to replicate it. being a machine of plastic and metal certainly doesn't make it easy. "

hankcon, but gorls. did i base hank off of my butch lesbian manager at my old job at a sex toy store who was covered in spongebob tattoos? absolutely yes i did

mostly i just wanted to portray fem!hank as a Large Woman because i think there is a severe lack of that. broad with muscle hidden under fat, like the kind of woman who does shot put. so uh,,, ms trunchbull basically LMAO. deep voice, raspy from smoking and drinking, all that good stuff 😩👌 also peep the button on her jacket hehe

got some headcanons and stories for them under the cut!

-hank wears cargo shorts 100% of the time. no matter the weather or temperature. like, 'bill and ted at prom in shorts, but it's her at a dpd ceremony in cargo shorts' level. but not actually because i'm totally gonna draw her in a pantsuit later, totally not with connie on her hip in a slinky dress 👀

-also yes hank's shirt is a spongebob reference

-when people ask hank why she goes by hank and not her "real name," (which i like to headcanon is "henrietta") she always says, "oh it's actually a really funny story, i'll tell you later," and the later never comes lmao. or, if she does tell you, it's some made up wacky story that actually has nothing to do with giving herself the name hank. the real reason? she just likes it

-speaking of "henrietta," this story, 'if you know where to look' by ghost_teeth, works so fucking well with a lot of my headcanons about how their characters would be like genderbent! highly recommend it, and all their dbh stories honestly!

-connie has a compact gun (i asked my brother for examples and he said sig p365 or springfield hellcat, which i think work perfectly for this) holstered inside her jacket on the left side. also, i'm stealing this idea from this post (which basically almost has the same design for fem!connor (altho like, most designs for her are basically the same lmao)) but she also has a knife strapped to her thigh

-her skirt is actually made of some super high tech flexible and durable material, and she's got specific programming to make her balance crazy good, since she'll be running in heels. she's made to hunt and pursue deviants so obviously she needs to be able to run and jump. the outfit is only made to appear like a standard "business woman" to blend in with the humans she would be required to work with, but otherwise gives her everything/doesn't hold her back from doing what she needs to complete her mission. here's a bonus conversation i had with @extraordinaryandroid about it lmaoo:

-hank met connor-51 first for the ortiz case, but connie-52 (with 51's memories of course) came in the next day when it was announced they were to be officially paired to investigate deviants. cyberlife has their grubby lil hands in everything so of course they knew their RK800 unit would be paired with this lieutenant anderson before basically anyone else, and deemed that she'd get along better with a "female model" that she would find attractive. which of course has hank like WOW that's super weird and gross of y'all! and i fucking hate that it's working you pieces of shit at cyberlife !!!! but ofc connie's like "im a machine i dont even have a gender" all the while hank's sweatin major thirsty bullets

-at the cyberlife tower, connor-51 is the one to hold hank at gunpoint. how did he get hank to trust him? idk i haven't figured that out yet lmao, but the angst of connor-51 essentially taking the place of -60 from the game in the sense that he's clearly deviant in some capacity, in this context being that he feels connie stole the life he deserved (which he'd never admit) and now wants to suck up to cyberlife and be their best boi to feel important and special again and not knowing they'd just throw him away for the RK900 model, is very good imo. that was a very long sentence so i hope it made sense lmaoo. have i worked out all the details of how all that shit would work in a story? absolutely not, im too busy thinking about butch fem!hank making her robo girlfriend bluescreen in the bedroom 🤪

also if ur wondering wtf the background is, idk. my usual plain color gradient was too simple, but i did NOT want to put in the effort to do a whole ass real background, so i settled on something in between. meh, it's just them hagin' out behind the station on a smoke break ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

consider supporting me on ☕! ko -fi. com / maddsmallow (without spaces)

#detroit become human #dbh #hankcon #detroit: become human #d:bh #fem!connor #fem!hank #connor rk800 #hank anderson #fem!hank anderson #dbh genderbend #conhank #hannor #dbh fanart #dbh connor #dbh hank #idk what else to tag this as #my art #the blogger says words

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abiiors · 1 month

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under the cherry blossoms - george x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this isn't intentionally a george birthday fic but i'm honestly very happy with the coincidence. happy birthday to my sweetie pumpkin pie sugar plum fairy boy 🤭🤍 cw: brief mentions of being sick, like vomit etc. and a lot of sappy fluff, some smut but not very detailed and explicit. this is sooooooo cheesy ugh wc: 3.3k

it’s hits him first when he surprises her with the tickets as a christmas present—tickets to japan for the coming spring. tickets to see the cherry blossoms that she’s been dying to see ever since george showed her a few photos of him and the band in japan, laughing under the cherry blossoms, surrounded by pink petals.

her eyes go round at the sight of the tickets, lingering on the destination again and again until her brain catches up with exactly what’s happening. then she grins so wide that she can’t quite keep her eyes open and tackles george into a hug until he’s on the floor and she’s on top of him, kissing his whole face and mumbling thank you over and over again.

george hugs her tightly and laughs at her excitement.

it hits him then—he should buy a ring.

for weeks he pesters matty about it, then ross, then adam. adam, naturally, seems to have the most credibility on this matter, he’s the only one of them who’s ever made it to the marriage stage. george has a million and one questions about it, and a million and one anxious thoughts that just won’t seem to go away.

“what if she hates the ring!”

“she loves you, she’ll love the ring you get her.”

“yeah but what if i blow it and say all the wrong things?!”

“have you ever done that in the past?”

“uh… no.”

and this is where adam’s patience runs thin.

ultimately, george is told to calm down, breathe, and pick a ring he thinks she’ll like. george knows her like the back of his own hand—knows her likes and dislikes and pet peeves, knows the weird ribena flavours she prefers. he even knows that she is a little superstitious about broken mirrors and spilt salt but gets huffy when it’s brought up (mostly by george in a fond, teasing way)

suffice it to say, george knows her. inside and out.

and so decides to get his shit together, and get her the most perfect ring he’s ever seen.

ring tucked safely in george’s suitcase, they land in tokyo three days before his birthday.

now that he’s over all his nervousness, george can’t contain the fucking excitement he’s felt for the past few weeks—it’s been an almost impossible task to keep the ring hidden from her at home. the sock drawer is out of question, along with every other tiny nook and cranny in the house because george knows how thorough she gets about spring cleaning. he has to resort to handing the ring to adam for safe-keeping.

and sure it’s mostly so she won’t find it by accident, but also because he doesn’t want to give into the intimacy of the moment and propose on a whim.

he wants it to be grand—champagne and candles and roses (or well… cherry blossoms). he wants it to be memorable.

they get the hotel check-in sorted—well george does anyway while she bounces on the balls of her feet next to him, too excited to care about any tiredness or jet lag.

it’s blissful, it’s perfect—that’s how he’d describe the first two days they spend there. so far it’s been exactly what he wanted—relaxing and exciting. the ring burns a hole in his suitcase though. every time he grabs something from it, he can’t resist swiping his fingers over the velvet box stashed in the corner, almost like his brain is trying to confirm over and over again that the ring is indeed there.

at night when she goes to bed, george rehearses his speech in his head.

you’re the love of my life… no! too fucking cheesy, and he’s stating the obvious.

i’ve thought of marrying you for… no! he can’t bring it up in the first fucking line, not before he actually pops the question. that’s meant to be for the after.

i love you, i love everything about you… yes, okay, yes! now he’s going somewhere. that’s what he should do—keep it sweet and simple and real. keep it genuine. and so he repeats all of it in his head over and over again, smiling wide each time when he imagines her reaction.

his mind’s come up with a thousand different scenarios—outcomes of all the little details. would she cry? (yes) would she squeal and jump? (also yes)

would she say yes? (he really fucking hopes so)

his actual birthday is out of the question. george knows she’s a firm believer in not proposing on other special occasions—so no christmas, no birthdays, and absolutely not someone else’s wedding.

besides, he just wants to have a good birthday without being all nervous and jittery about it.

on the day of, he wakes up to balloons. tonnes of them. he doesn’t even know when she’s had the time to blow them all up and arrange them in the room and order room service breakfast in bed with cherry blossoms in a small vase but george feels warmth spread through his whole body.

how did he get so lucky?

“happy birthday!” she squeals the moment she realises he’s awake. her excitement is palpable, her huge smile infectious. george pulls her tightly into his arms and kisses her softly.

he mumbles a quiet thank you too, murmured against her lips so he won’t have to pull away a lot.

she’s the one who deepens the kiss, dragging her tongue over his lip and nipping at it until his fingers dig into her hips out of sheer desperation. she fits so perfectly against him, like the last piece of a puzzle. made just for him.

she groans into the kiss and his hand travels down, grabbing and squeezing her ass until she wraps her legs around his waist and gets on top. all traces of sleep leave him in an instant.

george sits up as much as he can. his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone.

“my sweet, sunshine girl,” he smiles along her skin, words spoken in a low whisper that make her shiver and squeeze her legs around him.

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed to as much of her cleavage as her top offers.

“george,” her fingers tighten on his shirt, “please, i need—fuck, need you.”

“anything for my girl,” he whispers.

everything about her amazes him—from the way she knows his body so well, to the way hers responds so perfectly to his touch. he can’t help but stare at her with adoration when he slides down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, face contorted in pleasure. he can’t stop staring at her when she falls apart, crying out his name. he only closes his eyes when his orgasm hits him, making his whole body tingle in pleasure.

she falls on his chest after, body sweaty and slick and stays there until she manages to catch her breath. even when she climbs off him, she doesn’t venture too far, climbing back into bed and cuddling into his side once she gets some water for the both of them.

“cancel plans for today? please?” he mumbles into her hair and she laughs.

“we’re here, all the way on a different continent, and you want to spend the whole day in bed?”

“please?” he tries his best at using puppy eyes on her, a trick that’s worked great for him multiple times before. and once again, she relents.

“fineee birthday boy! only because it’s your day though.”

at the back of his head he kinda wishes it wasn’t, only so he could get the ring out right now and ask her. right here in this bed while she’s naked.

he imagine what she’d look like with nothing but the ring on, the diamond glittering on her finger, messy hair, and a happy smile on her face.

“can we at least have a birthday dinner for you? a proper one.”

“yes! i know just the right place,” he answers and kisses her deeply, teeth snagging on her lower lip until she’s wrapped around him again.

tomorrow, he thinks. he’s going to do it tomorrow.

and he’s going to make it perfect.

the birthday dinner comes back to bite him in the ass.

he spends the entirety of the morning after miserable on the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet, even after his stomach is emptier than it’s ever been. she sits behind him, stroking his back and getting him water whenever he needs it. she doesn’t move even when he repeatedly asks her to.

“‘s disgusting,” followed by another gag to which makes her click her tongue.

“it’s not. let me take care of you!”

it does bring him some relief to lay his head down on her lap in between rounds of throwing up so george doesn’t argue further about it.

mostly though he’s upset about the whole day being ruined. he should be kneeling down in front of her! asking her the most important question of his life! and yet here he is, kneeling down in front of the toilet, face to face with disgusting, half-digested food.

it’s like the universe has it out for him, ruining all his well thought out plans.

fortunately, it passes an hour later, even though it leaves him feeling icky and disgusting. the only silver lining is that he gets to be pampered. she lets him sit in the bath, face squished into her stomach while she washes his hair for him. he groans every time a stomach cramp hits but she scratches his scalp as a consolation.

it’s okay, he thinks, he still has a good few days to do it. tomorrow will be better.

and then they fight.

well, it’s not a fight fight but it’s most certainly a little spat that leaves her all huffy and sour. and george knows it’d be a terrible idea to propose when she’s in a mood like this. it is, in part, his fault after all—he’s been distracted.

and he can’t even admit to her why he’s been distracted, coordinating all the little details with the hotel staff and telling the old japanese florist exactly what flowers he wants where one party barely speaks english and the other speaks no japanese at all.

it’s all stressful. it’s a slight mess.

and he’s been on his phone a little more than he should. so when george looks up to see her, her hand on her hips, foot tapping in annoyance, he knows he’s messed up.

“is there something more important?” there’s a slight bite to her words which grates on him.

george freezes, trying to think of an excuse on the spot. “just…matty.”

her eyes narrow. he knows that look, knows that she does not believe a word coming out of his mouth right now. but it’s not like he can spill everything.

“there was a…holdup. sorted now.” he tries not to stutter but ends up sounding really curt.

she gives him the side-eye, playing with the tassels of her top. george hears her exasperated sigh, her frustration palpable in the tension that hangs between them. “it’s always matty. how convenient.”

george's jaw tightens, his own irritation flaring up. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, you’re clearly being shady and using matty as an excuse!”

george panics. this is going south and if he doesn’t salvage this now and come up with a better excuse he’s going to end up with an upset girlfriend and absolutely zero chances of a yes.

he opens and closes his mouth, stuttering out gibberish.

fuck.

“it’s fine, george,” she sighs and turns around, walking away without even waiting to see if he’s following. it’s upsetting that he can’t figure out what she’s thinking right now. it’s not like her to be upset with him so quickly. it’s not like her to just stop communicating.

all george can do is catch up to her and kiss her head in apology. eventually she melts but he can still sense a bit of hurt in her voice every time she speaks.

“fine,” she huffs, “you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now. i’m not mad at you.”

“you sure about that?”

“i promise, baby. i’m not. just…want a bit more of your attention?”

for the rest of the day he vows not to touch his phone, only taking it out once to cancel all the half-formed planned when he’s in the bathroom of a restaurant. the ring stays in his pocket, burning against his thigh.

by their penultimate day george is fucking sure he’s jinxed. the ring comes with him everywhere they go but then how is it possible that every time he tries to propose something or the other goes wrong?

they have a hectic day of travelling and she’s too tired to do anything but order room service and sleep or he can’t find the right moment to do it, can’t think of the right words to segue into it. by their penultimate day he’s frustrated, huffy, silently stewing. so much so that even she can tell something’s wrong with him despite his best attempts to hide it.

“should we…go for a walk?” she suggests just around sunset, a little timid. “there’s this little street by our hotel i saw yesterday, cherry blossoms on both sides. i think it would be nice.”

halfheartedly, he says yes and intertwines his fingers with her as they walk out of their hotel and onto the cosy streets outside. on any other day, this would have been one of the prettiest things he’s ever experienced—strolling down a beautiful street with the love of his life while the world is doused in golden light. but his frustration trumps everything.

“is something wrong?” she asks suddenly. her voice quivers.

for such a pretty street, it’s utterly empty, devoid of any cars or people or even any occasional stray cats that she loves to stop and pet.

irritation burns in his chest—not at her, at everything else, this whole trip, one silly situation after the next. “no.”

“no because—”

“can we not talk about this right now?”

she goes quiet at the interruption, eyes wide and confused. george is about to even apologise for it when her whole face changes, goes from confused to determined.

“no, actually. let’s talk about it.”

“baby—”

“no! you have been distracted the whole time we have been here, something’s clearly wrong and you won’t tell me what it is!”

george gapes at her, but she’s clearly not done yet.

“i know you’ve been here many times before but it feels like you’ve had a shit time with me—”

“what?! no—”

“because i can tell the whole time, you’ve been preoccupied—”

“oh god, i’ve been trying to propose!” he yells out in the middle of the street. a cherry blossom petal flutters down and smacks him in the face and george looks at his girlfriend’s stunned face. a pit opens up in his stomach.

he just said that… he just fucking said that.

the conversation he had with adam months ago pops up in his head. for all the misplaced confidence his friend had in him, george has just gone and blown it all up. exactly what he was worried about. and now that he has started, he can't even stop.

“i’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for days now but something or the other keeps going wrong and i—” he chokes and the rest of the words die on his tongue.

all the nights he’s spent rehearsing his speech, all the time he spent trying to make it happen, all of it down the drain because he stupidly blurted it out. george stuffs his hand in his pocket and takes out the velvet box.

“fuck, i’ve carried this everywhere with me and—”

“yes.”

“what?”

there are tears shining in her eyes and for a second he is so sure that this is about to turn into a serious fight. he fucked up, he fucked up deeply.

and then she breaks out into the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen, laughing through the tears. “yes. yes! are you kidding me? YES!”

“yes, you’ll…marry me?”

“if you’re still asking…”

he doesn’t even realise he’s crying until something wet hits his nose. there’s an entire storm of emotions in his chest—a whole mixture of nervousness and guilt and glee and oh god so much fucking happiness that he can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his face, can’t help the way a whole swarm of butterflies erupt in his stomach.

more cherry blossoms flutter down and george laughs along with her.

“this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. i had a whole thing planned, shit!”

“so do it. ask me!”

and that’s what he does.

instead of the roses and lights and champagne, george kneels down in the middle of the cherry blossom-covered empty street in the dying light of the sun, and looks up at her.

he opens the ring box.

“i love you so much, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this—oi, stop laughing at me!” to which she just laughs harder and wipes away the tears in her eyes.

“fuck it,” george curses under his breath, “fuck the speech, just…i’ve been so desperate to hear you say yes. marry me? please?”

somehow between crying and jumping up and down in excitement, she manages to nod and that’s all the confirmation he needs to get up to his feet and kiss her deeply, kiss her till the air gets knocked out of his lungs and he has to step away just a little bit to breathe. but nothing and no one can wipe the smile on his face.

quickly, he takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. it fits her perfectly, like it was meant for her and her only.

yes. she just said yes.

she just said yes after the shittiest proposal in the world. how did he get so lucky?

“that was…utterly shit. sorry i’ve been such a shit boyfriend.”

“fiance,” she corrects with a big, goofy grin on her face. “and are you joking?! that was the best proposal ever. certainly the most memorable.”

“it was?”

she nods again, distracted this time, eyes trained at her ring. the fading sunlight makes it look even more perfect.

“i’d really like to hear it though, the original plan.”

george shakes his head and takes her hand in his. his thumb swipes over her ring, drawing lazy circles around it until he memorises the feel of it on her finger. the precise shape and size of it. it’s perfect, he thinks. the perfect ring for his perfect girl.

“let’s go back then,” he kisses the top of her head, “and i’ll tell you all about it.”

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

add yourself to the taglist

#spring fics #seasons #the 1975 #george daniel #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george x reader #george x you

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parad-ice-lostandfound · 3 months

Note

omg we're mutuals??? i'm flattered honestly since my only other moot (do people say that?) is my rp partner/bestie so i feel like that doesn't really count. so like, i've never done a request before, and i never get requests (defo not sulking abt that lol) but can i maybe get some ace content? i have no idea why i like him so much honestly since he's a lil shit (affectionate), but i do and i have to live with it now. i'm terrible at coming up with shorter prompt ideas, which is probably why i've never requested from anyone before, so sorry that this is so vague. i give you creative license to write whatever you want, just no angst plz. is it weird for a self-proclaimed angst writer to specifically not want angst for their requests? i dunno. feel free to delete this if it's not what you're feeling at the time or i've somehow violated your rules, which i did read. sorry, i talk way too much.

AN: Hi! Don't worry about talking too much, I enjoyed reading it! And I agree, Ace is a little shit, but he's also very cute and occupies space in my brain without paying rent :(

Jokes aside, I hope you like this just as much as I liked writing it! May we never be cured of the loving Ace disease <3

Prompt: can i maybe get some ace content? i have no idea why i like him so much honestly since he's a lil shit (affectionate), but i do and i have to live with it now.

Pairing: Ace Trappola x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff

TW: NA

Ace was a menace.

A menace of the highest degree, whose sole purpose in life sometimes seemed to be making you burst a vein with irritation.

A menace who was holding out a bouquet of roses for you, trying to act nonchalant even as his cheeks were tinted a soft red. His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, but you had no doubt that they were focused on you and your reaction.

"What's this?" You hummed, taking the bouquet and cradling it in your arms. For something that looked so elegant and dainty it sure was heavy, and you were wondering how long Ace had stood outside Ramshackle with them before finally ringing the bell.

Ace cleared his throat, breaking you out of your reverie. He looked effortlessly stylish in everything he wore, but it seemed like he had taken special care with his appearance for today. If he'd given you a warning, maybe you'd have changed into something nicer than your pajamas...

"I, um, I came here to ask you something," he said, voice somber as if he was going to give you bad news. 'But who gives bad news with a bouquet of roses?' You thought to yourself, pushing down the part of you that was ready to overthink the smallest of incidents. You nodded to him to continue.

"Will... uh, will you be m-my Valentine this year?" He trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice breaking slightly. You blinked.

"Your Valentine?"

Ace made a face of indignation at your question. "Oh no, I was actually speaking on behalf of Deuce. Look, there he is, right where you left your last braincell," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you trying to make me say no?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him. Shifting the bouquet to one hand, you acted as if you were going to close the door with him still outside. Not that you actually would, but it was still fun to see his eyes widen comically at your action, hand shooting out to stall for time.

"Wait, no that– don't take everything so seriously," he whined, holding the door to stop you from shutting it in his face. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, letting go of the door but turning and making your way inside. With your back turned to him, you smiled.

"Come in and help me find a vase for these roses," you said, and Ace followed you obediently, refraining from making any other sarcastic remarks that would have him stand outside the house as though he were in timeout for misbehaving.

Once you found a vase big enough to hold all the roses, you filled it with water. As you placed the flowers in it, you felt two strong arms circling your waist and a weight settling on your shoulder.

"So... be my valentine?" He asked again, voice slightly muffled against your shoulder.

"Give me one good reason to be your valentine," you hummed, not relenting even as Ace whined about you being unfair to him, he got you roses, how could you be so cruel—

Every indignant rise and fall of his voice had the smile on your lips growing and the urge to burst out laughing increasing. You bit your lip to stifle your amusement, but he caught it anyways.

"You little– you were trying to make me beg for it, huh?" He accused you, voice playful as he poked your sides. A peal of laughter left you as you tried to dodge his pokes, your hands swatting at his.

"Stop it!"

"Not until you say yes!"

Breaking free from his hold, you ran to the living room, your giggles filling the air as Ace followed, hot on your trail. You were fast, but Ace was faster, and you blamed hisbeing a member of the basketball club for him managing to foil all your attempts at getting away.

Pinned under him on the couch, you squirmed as he continued tickling you. Laughter left you both breathless and red in the face, and you wheezed when Ace decided to flop on top of you, his weight pressing your body down against the couch.

You hit him lightly at his shoulder. "Get off, you're heavy!"

"Nope. That's what you get for being a brat and trying to make me beg for you to be my valentine when you and I both know your answer'd be yes."

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he mirrored your actions, before he made himself comfortable against you and settled against your chest.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ice writes #its ace loving hours #also hi new moot!!#ice's moots #twisted wonderland ace #ace twisted wonderland #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #twst ace #ace twst #ace x reader #gn!reader

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ech0schamber · 11 months

Note

okay i kinda forgot to come back wkdjs. hmm, let’s go a little domestic this time. how about grocery shopping with texchou, dazai, and ranpo (and or any characters you want to add)? how would they act there?

i just want to say i can see ranpo telling you to push him around as he sits in the cart after he grabs what he wants 💀💀

why is this the only gif that i can find of him??

if i dont get his character correct, my bad. im still figuring out some of these characters :']

☆he actually had to time to go grocery shopping with you! congrats, this man works too much

☆i feel like he would be the most normal about it between the three

☆please ban him from cooking for the both of you. and don't let him go grocery shopping by himself

☆follows you around like a lost puppy, but probably does get lost at some point

☆he was probably looking at some weird shit he could put together for his liking and didn't realize you walked off

☆he'd probably try sneaking some monstrosity food into your cart, so maybe keep an eye on him

☆he seems like a menace, so small chance he might cause a scene if you don't let him get his monstrosity

☆FUCKING MENACE TO ALL OF MAN KIND

☆unless you put one of those baby backpacks with a lease on it, he will not stay by you at all.

☆he will immediately walk off either 1) grab as much crab as he can or 2) find some monstrosity to try

☆honestly, leave his ass at home. you will only come back with maybe half the stuff you wanted to get because you were constantly having to make sure he doesn't run off

☆oh? you're not going to let him get that much crab? mans will throw a tantrum. (he has canonically thrown temper tantrums to get what he wanted.)

☆BUT

☆you go grocery shopping while he's eepy? his staying glued to your side. honestly, he's probably hugging you from behind while you drag him through the store

☆he'll complain to hell and back, but at least you get the groceries you need

☆honestly, you're right

☆the second you grab a shopping cart, he is throwing himself into it. refuses to get out until you're done shopping

☆i hope you have the patient of a saint bc oh boy

☆will loudly complain about what you are getting, but not because he doesn't like the food/ingredients you get. he just wants attention.

☆will grab random things of candy off of shelves. put them back. he needs to eat some healthy food, and he has plenty of candy hidden around your apartment

☆not as much as a menace, surprisingly. won't actively try to cause a scene, but the people around you can definitely hear him complain the whole time

☆if he's an eepy guy tho? he's koala-ing you. you will have to walk around with a grown man clinging to the front of you like a toddler.

☆no matter what, you're gonna get stared at, hope you don't have social anxiety!

-------

you can tell who i love the most out of this group lmao

and again, sorry if tecchou isn't in character, my autistic ass has a hard time understanding characters sometimes

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #ranpo x reader #tecchou x reader

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everythingne · 2 months

Text

out of the woods, 5 (ls2)

With clear favoritism boosting all of Ferrari's tactics, Dhanishka makes a difficult decision after a crash causes her to see the true colors of her team. Logan sweeps in to save the day.

series masterlist

warnings/notes: mistreatment of Dhanishka by Ferrari, car accidents with very minor injuries, this chapter was originally twice the length.... i had to cut half of it for next chapter LMAO, wrote this instead of doing my finals !

(ch4) (ch6)

The little room they've shoved us all into for media is more crowded than I want it to be. The Chinese GP was off to a rocky start already, with downpour rains all day on Thursday. I'm looking for Charles, turned in on myself even in the room full of flashing lights as I try to hide from the world. I want nothing to do with media. I know its going to be a shit show, and my stomach churns and knots until I make eye contact with Logan across the room. A weird wave of calm hits me, before its also sprinkled with anixety.

We haven't spoke since he kicked me out.

I swallow my pride and smile at him, and though I note his smile isn't full, he does still return one. I can tell he senses my apprehension as he nods, and he excuses himself from Oscar and Alex's sides to cross the small, cramped room. I manage to slip through a wall of reporters surrounding Max, nearly being shoved aside before I'm grabbed and pulled and into the firm protective hold of Logan. Instinctively, his arm wraps tight around my waist as he brings me to his chest. My hands find his shoulders and slide across in a hug as he leans his head down to whisper,

"You look terrified, Isa." His hand squeezes my waist and leaves the skin tingly, as if he's shocked it with little electrodes hidden in his finger tips. All his lingering touches feel like that, they have since I was seventeen.

"I am." I say back to him as I pull back from the hug just enough for us to look at eachother, "It's first media day after we announced this whole... thing."

Logan nods and then sighs, bringing the hand thats not still clutching my waist up to comb through his hair, "This is probably the worst possible time to bring that up, but I'm sorry for just..."

He trails off and before he can finish, I shake my head softly and give him the tiniest reassuring smile I can muster. He quiets at the soft expression on my face as I bring one hand down from his shoulders to pat his forearm, before squeezing it as I speak,

"No, Logan. I should've told you from the beginning what I wanted. It was wrong of me to string you along like that," and I hesitate before adding, "I don't regret it, if you're scared about that, too."

He seems taken aback by my apology, but before we can say more, we're split apart by media duties. I try to turn back to say something when he grabs my wrist to pull me back to him and from Charles, who turns back with a confused look. Even I'm confused, before I'm laughing as Logan's planting a goodbye kiss on my cheek with a softy murmur of 'keeping up the look.' And no matter how hard I try, I can't find a logical defense for my blush.

So of course, Charles teases me about it, which is caught on nearly every camera in our direction as we're brought to the little media pen this time. Luckily out of the grabbing range of asshole reporters and the people who want a headline.

And the first reporter for me is luckily The Ophelia Piastri.

"Danny..!" She sings, handing me a microphone labeled 'VOGUE' as she steps in, ever so elegantly, next to me.

"Hi, Ophie." I smile, leaning in to give her a tight hug. Luckily during media I didn't have to wear my team uniform, so I had been dressed to the nines in the white and red Ferrari dress-jacket-thing, with the little cape thing on the back. I knew I looked good, which is why I assumed Ophelia had grabbed me before she went off to find Lewis.

"Since we last spoke, quite a bit has happened, but lets talk about this outfit?"

"So, this is Ferrari, of course. I cannot remember the name of the jacket for the life of me. It's a white leather trench coat with a red silk trim, Ferrari's black boots with, of course, the red trim, and a black Ferrari purse. I am completely Ferrari today."

"You look stunning, the red of the Ferrari suits has always looked good on your but this pop? Stunning, brilliant, we love to see it."

Her interview is a bit longer than I'm expecting, mostly because we keep getting off track, and then I'm pulled away and into the mass of the boring, normal interviews.

It's Sky News who comes to be annoying, some reporter I don’t recognize. I glance over to Logan, who is on my left side down a bit in the media pen and find him staring. He looks away quickly and I bite back a laugh as Charles knocks my shoulder with his to keep me paying attention. I miss the reporter introducing himself but don’t miss the way Charles tightens his grip on my wrist.

“Any specific reason you were spotted in London last weekend?” The man asks me, holding the microphone towards me and I shrug with a tiny smile.

“Just making some visits to my friends, is all. I also had some media responsibilities.” I reply calmly and catch Logan’s eye again, this time my look lingers long enough to see him try to mouth something to me before the reporter talking pulls me away again.

“A certain driver seems to have caught your eye, though, are we correct to assume there’s some heat between you and a certain Williams driver?” The man smiles almost predatory and Charles taps the back of my arm to signal me to move back as he eyes the reporter with a confused look. As I fall back, I let a soft laugh tumble out of my lips as I realize it’s fucking Anthony Davis and that’s why both Logan and Charles have stopped to watch.

“Thought my instagram post was pretty clear,” I chime once I find my footing and push my emotions back, “if that hallway stuff you released to press as blackmail against Logan to do that interview with you wasn’t already enough.”

Charles is staring like I’ve just cursed this man out, I think I can hear Lando laughing somewhere off to the side.

“We’re done with you, thanks sir, make sure to tell David I said hi.” I grin forcibly, watching as Anthony’s face grows in anger. Charles steps between us, asking Anthony to leave and I allow myself a reprieve here to look around. Logan gives me a little smile and an appreciative nod, which I return, before I’m being pulled away by PR.

Qualifying brings back Ferrari’s curse.

Charles tires go and he nearly crashes out right before the end and my back wing is broken by the time I’m done. With the challenges we faced, we both do qualify higher than expected which does make me feel a bit better.

After standing and talking about the car and strategy for way too long, I’m let loose to the solstice of my drivers room. The pristine and almost shockingly tidy room is a safe haven as most the chaos of this weekend and I allow myself to relax as I slowly get myself undone from the race.

I change and take my hair out of its now frizzy braid, taking the time to brush it as I stick my head under the sink faucet to wet my hair. I’m wringing it out as I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I call, grabbing a towel to place over my shoulders as the door pops open and I’m greeted with the soon to be Norris’ couple.

I gawk, “How did you both get in here?”

“Charles owed me a favor for all the times I’ve snuck him into Red Bull.” Olivia shrugs as she pops her purse down next to me on the couch, “and Lando doesn’t like me walking the paddocks by myself anymore.”

“That fucking reporter.”

“Don’t.” Olivia points at Lando, who huffs, and she then crosses the room to sit next to me on the couch before Lando can snag the seat. Olivia continues to speak after pausing to sip her drink, “good take down of Anthony today, little debutante."

“Ah. Thank you.” I laugh softly, brushing my hair with the same red brush, eyes glancing over to Lando and Olivia as I try to keep my blush to a minimum. Olivia's soft compliment made my heart skip, as any praise did. It was hard to come by it in this sport and I was honestly happy it was Olivia who was supporting me like this.

“How’re you feeling? You did pretty good for a busted car. I saw how fucked that rear wing was when I was pulling in the pits after Q1.” Lando continues the conversation and I shrug, turning at Olivia's cue so she can start to braid my hair for me. It's weirdly like having my mom or sister do it, I hate how much it makes me miss home.

“It sucks I’m not higher. Wallahi, I'm so tired of this." I complain, rolling my eyes back as I try and keep myself calm. Frustration wouldn't get me anywhere here, "they’ve been harping on me all season about getting back to the level I was at in Bahrain. And they're acting as if every race since, I haven’t had terrible car issues! Sorry you guys fucked up my car!"

"Sounds like Ferrari." Olivia hums, "I think I've heard both Charles and Carlos say this same thing over the years."

"Maybe talk to Charles about it, he'd know Ferrari better than I would." Lando suggests, watching his fiance as she finishes off my braid and then squeezes my shoulders and pulling me back to rest on her chest as she lazily wraps her arms around me. Lando kicking his legs up to rest on my lap as he yawns into the back of his hand.

"I have been, he's been a huge help, but it's still ridiculous." I complain, smushed against Olivia's Red Bull tee as I close my eyes to fight off the stress migraine forming. I complain for a bit longer, Olivia convincing me to talk to Charles about my frustrations once again. But by the time I've gone off to find him, I notice his attention being held by Fred and some of the engineers. Even when I try to get him away, he's continuously pulled back with soft sorry's thrown over his red clad shoulders.

I go to bed that night with a migraine. The next day I nearly crash twice when my tires are too worn but they won't box me, and sulk in my drivers room after due to losing my podium position. Sure, I finished a lucky P9 for my car issues... but I was fighting with Max in P2 when my rear tires decided they hated me.

I ask so many times to be boxed. It’s not the first time they refuse to pull me into the pits, but it’s the most dangerous. I have no grip, I have nothing but prayers and maybe a bit of luck because I don’t crash out.

And when Aakash is not supportive over the radio, maybe I lose my cool, and maybe that’s what causes half the garage to give me the cold shoulder as I get out of the car. I do what’s needed, barely speak, don’t smile, and then retreat to my room with the hope of my anger dissipating.

When my frustrations don't wear off, even after I snag the treadmill to sprint until my legs are jello, I go to try and find Charles for our little private post-race debrief. I need him in this moment like a fish needs water, the debriefs we have been having being the only thing keeping me from losing my mind in Ferrari. I spot him in the garage still, but he's being held captive by the team. They engross themselves in deep plans for his racing, smiling and waving hands in excitement. I notice no one had come to grab me and swallow the sick feeling in my gut.

"What about Dhanishka?" Charles asks, eyes flickering over to meet mine and I feel the pull to enter the conversation until Fred shakes his head and squeezes his golden boys shoulder, saying,

"Dhanishka comes second to you, Charles. You are more important than some girl. We'll use her to help you..."

Fred's voice fades out as I swallow hard, my hands shaking immediately in a mix of rage and embarrassment. How could I have been so stupid?

And when Charles snaps his head up to meet my eyes after a moment, I've already turned to rush down the hall. Tears prick in my eyes at my own stupidity, that I felt like I belonged in this red building. Sure, it was something off hand, maybe he didn't mean it the way he said it, but it was enough to frustrate me to tears.

If I cry one more time before the end of May, someone might get strangled.

I retire to my hotel room early that night. Even when all I wanna do it party, I choose not to join anyone in the festivities, and ignore the mass amounts of messages blowing up my phone asking why I'm not at the after party. I ignore the world, let the sun set into black skies as I stay tucked in my bed--still in my fireproofs. I can't bring myself to move, a mix of anxiety in my gut and genuine pain in my body keeping me in the plush blankets. My parents call to congratulate me, I humor them with a tired smile and blame it on the time zones. I pretend I'm asleep when I see Anya tries to call me twice. I can't lie to her.

I have to ignore her so they think I'm doing fine. I can't worry them about me turning into the monster I had been after Trident again. But that monster claws at the restraints and slowly breaks them.

Hours later, not that I would know the time, someone knocks at my door. I ignore it, even as the muffled voices call for me and ask if I'm alright. I just stay still, tucked up to my chin in blankets, until someone scans a card in the door and begins to let themselves in. I jump, preparing to throw my phone in defense, when it's Danny who pops his head in.

"Just checking to see if you're alive, mini-me." He smiles, opening the door a bit more so from my vantage on the bed, I can see Charles and Logan behind him. I know they all see I'm still wearing everything I had on at the track, and I see remorse in Charles' eyes when he sees my state, but I shake it off.

"I have a bad migraine, but I'm alive." I say, choosing for that to be the reason as to why I was laying in the dark. Not because I felt too tired to get up to turn the light on, or that I felt my seventeen year old rage returning.

"Need anything?" Logan asks, feather soft, before the others can. I hate how I can see him noticing all my soft lines turning hard. I just sit there, then I shrug when I realize they're expecting an answer.

"Just some sleep. I'll see you guys next race weekend." I wave them off, yawning into the back of my hand. Logan steps into the door frame, welcoming himself in. I don't argue as he crosses the room to sit on the edge of my bed, pressing his hand to my temple.

"You're not sick." He murmurs, "just a stress migraine this time, then?"

"You--huh?" I blink and Logan smiles party, a soft blush on his cheeks only illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"You always get migraines when you're stressed or when you've got a fever, Isa." He squeezes my wrist, watching my face carefully, "If you don't feel hot when you have a migraine, it's just stress."

“It’s just… it’s been a rough weekend and I kinda snapped after the race ‘cause this migraine won’t go away.” I lie half now, Logan seems to buy it a bit more as he leans forward and gently pulls some of my stray hairs back behind my ears—settling them how he knows I like it.

“You did really well for all the issues you were having. Can’t beat yourself up over something you can’t control, Danny.” Daniel says from the doorway where he and Charles lean, I squint when I look towards them in the light and see while Danny looks full of concern—Charles looks sick.

“I know. It’s just been a hard adjustment.” I shrug and Logan nods.

“Adjustings a bitch.” he says and I laugh. About twenty minutes later they leave, after Charles runs down to grab a Doordash they force me to order. Logan calls me much later, telling me to sleep so I don’t feel like shit tomorrow.

We talk on the phone for so long he ends up sleeping in the same bed as me, arm wrapped loosely around my waist as my head is tucked in the crook of his neck. It’s safe. It’s definitely not platonic, but it’s safe, and it’s what I need.

So far it's been:

Bahrain, P3,

Saudi, P5,

Australia, P8,

Japan, P4,

China, P7,

and now it's Miami, where I land a solid P10 after Carlos clearly attempts to knock me off the track entirely and runs me into the gravel. I have to fight for my way back up from P20. I'm impressed with the run some of the back drivers give me (especially Haas and Alpine) but I'm frustrated in general with my finish.

Because what could've been more is fucked over when Carlos in P9 swings purposefully wide and damages my front wing.

"It's not fair!" I complain to Charles as I pace the length of my tiny drivers room, "I don't know what he has against me!"

"Isa," Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Be proud of what you did accomplish, a wonderful ten place overtake in only seven or so laps! You did amazing tonight, even with that fuck up!"

"You've been podium every race except for Australia when Oscar beat you and Max." I snip, whipping around so hard my braid whacks the side of my face, "What I would do to be able to get up there... its just annoying some drivers have made it their agenda to get me off the track! Carlos has no reason to nearly knock me off the track multiple times today!"

"Carlos is frustrated Ferrari dropped him for you. He'll pretend to be amicable over at Mercedes but he's fucking miserable." Charles sighs, "Ferrari's been no help either, they've yet to pay him the rest of his contract."

"Well how is that my fault, Charles!" I ask, groaning softly as I bury my head in my hands and come to sit next to him. It's not like I had told Ferrari to pick me, it had been a huge surprise they had. Charles has no answer and I just huff and lean back into the couch's plush surface and hide my face.

"I'm miserable too." I complain into the air, and it's frustrating to admit it. Charles can tell I don't wanna talk about it, so he just pulls me to his side and lets me curl up there. I feel like a child, but I feel safe.

—

Miami proves to be more difficult than I expected.

I had qualified really well, starting in P4 with Max, Charles, and Lando ahead of me. I was holding my own during the race, but Ferrari wasn't clearing me to pass Charles to try and take P2. Which is honestly the least of my worries right now. Aakash has been non-exsistant on the radio today, barely answering as per usual. I was basically using my own strategy at this point, pulling off of tips I had been given by Charles for this track.

And everything is surprisingly going well.

“Woah!” I shout, turning clear of whoever is in the Alpine that’s stuck half off the gravel, I make some sort of contact but not enough to deter me, “Alpine is down on the track, hit him, I think front damage? Rear wing is still locked in DRS.”

“Understood. Possible red flag coming up, use these last seconds to try and secure position.” Aakash says into my headset and I reply back with a soft ‘copy’ as I go to turn normally but for some reason I find that I whip to the side—under steering hard. Luckily, by pure coincidence, it keeps Oscar behind me and secures a place in P3 behind Charles. But the car isn’t driveable in this state, extremely dangerous, and my hands shake as I struggle to press down my radio button while holding the wheel steady.

“My steering is going out!” I curse, trying to stabilize myself—waiting for a red flag or a safety or something. Where the fuck is this safety car for the crash?

“How bad is it?” Aakash asks and I grit my teeth as I pull into the next turn. I curse softly, breaking a bit harder than I need to but managing somehow to keep Oscar behind me. I think he knows to stay back, that something is clearly wrong,

“Terrible, terrible! I can’t fight like this!” I snap, groaning as we move now to a straightaway. Oscar comes to my left and I steer towards, Aakash is calling that the flag is flying and the safety car has been deployed, but my eyes are on Oscar as he tries to maneuver around the other side but I cut him off again—or try to.

I steer too hard, clipping the front of Oscar’s tire on the slick of the still drying Florida rain and spinning out. I feel the gravel as the car spins and then the world rocks when I hit the wall. I can't breathe for a moment, breath caught in my chest as I grip my seatbelts. No one calls over the radio for a moment, and then,

"Dhanishka, is the car okay?"

"Fuck you." Is my reply as I grab my restraints and slowly unclick them. It's agony to move as I take out my steering wheel and pop it on the top of the car, hoisting myself up and nearly buckling back down into the car in pure pain. I manage to get myself out by the time medics arrive, they take me to medical to get checked and it's like I'm not even worried about. No one from Ferrari comes to check on me.

I limp myself back to the paddock, guarded by McLaren employees and followed closely by Lando and Olivia--who is softly scolding the FIA in her phone. Her voice thick in frustration over Ferrari's dismissal of me, her hand on my lower back supporting me as I walk. Once they get me back to Ferrari, Olivia forces her way in to escort me to my drivers room.

"I'm gonna get them fined for this bullshit." Olivia mutters, helping me sit down on my bed. I don't reply as she hands me a change of clothes and then gives me a soft hug, the painkillers slowly kicking in and making my dull pain fade. Once I feel a bit better, I wave her off to go home and she reluctantly does.

And my migraine flares when Aakash knocks, entering my room. He's still got his headphones on, and I bite back about thirty insults as he crosses his arms.

"Feel better?"

"No." I huff, "and your precious car is fine."

"Listen, we're pushing you because we need you to be a better driver." The mechanic looks at me, arms taught over his chest and I wish it was still Ami in charge of my comms.

"I don't understand what you want from me!" I shout in frustration, my hand itching to throw my helmet across the room at him. I’m not violent, I never have been, I don’t understand why I’m so short of breath. It feels like the rage in my belly fights to be fed by all the oxygen in my lungs, my hands shaking as he slam my helmet down and punch the plush surface of my bedding.

“Dhanishka—“ Aakash tries and I whip around, pointing at him and watching his face fill with shock as I finally snap under the pressure of the weekend.

“No, listen to me! [You all love Charles, treat him like your golden child! He coughs and you all run to get medicine, but when I am out there and I am struggling and nearly dying, you do nothing! I fought with a broken wing and a fucked up steering wheel and what help did I get?!]” I snap at him in my mother tongue, watching his face fill with something like horror as I step even closer, “[None of you were there for me! You all went to coddle poor Charlie—he was fine! I was the one who suffered for you! Where is my help? You have all done this the whole season!]”

“[Charles was frustrated—]”

I cut Aakash off, screaming, “[And I nearly killed myself out there because none of you would help! Do you think I wasn’t also frustrated?!]”

“Listen, I—“

“Get the fuck out of my room! I’m not doing media! I’m going the fuck back to my hotel.” I snap and Aakash listens, quickly ducking out of the room. I rip off my suit and throw it in my bag and I get changed into my street clothing, only pausing to touch up my makeup. I pass by Charles coming back from podium with a cold shoulder and shove through the crowd to my car, digging out my keys and getting in. I sit there, hands tight on the wheel for a while, and my fingers start to go numb as I feel like my brain is shutting off and going into autopilot.

I just sit back and watch, like a movie goer, as the world around me fades in my mind.

I come back to my senses sharply, knees digging into the tile as I’m sitting on the floor in the bathroom. I can feel the remenants of a panic attack shaking off my limbs, leaving them staticky. My hands shaking at the slamming at the door to my hotel room.

“Isa!”

There’s only one man who calls me that.

I try to shout that I’m gonna let him in but the words are caught in my throat, and I hear him echo and think I’m going crazy as I whine into the bathroom air. Then I realize I’m clutching my phone tight enough to shatter the screen and Logan’s contact is up—blazing bright into my face.

“Lo…?” I wheeze and I hear him pause mid knock before he shuffles and—

“Isa?” He crackles into the phone screen and I nearly sob at the familiarity of his voice.

“I-Give me a second. I’m coming to the door.” I whisper, slowly raising to my feet and stumbling out into the hall as my senses fight to try and come back to me in full. My hands are numb when I un-deadbolt the door and I barely have enough time to step back after I pop the door open. In a flash, Logan is everything around me, tucking me against his chest, his hand carding through my hair, kicking the door shut behind us and sighing softly.

“Oh, Isa—“ He murmurs into my hair and I feel the numbness snap away in favor of tears as I bury into his grasp and sob. I have cried more since starting F1 than I have in my entire life.

“Oh, Isa, I’m so sorry they’ve turned you into me.” Logan presses his hands to either side of my face, lifting me back so I can look at him. I remember how a week ago I was afraid of loving him, how I was terrified I'd lose him, and yet here he was as stubborn and comforting as always.

"I can't do this Logan." I hiccup, letting him bring me into his arms once more, kisses trailing my forehead as he keeps me locked in tight, "I can't take another day of this comparing bullshit! They hate me, all of them in Ferrari. I don't even know if I still have Charles."

"Charles aactually spoke to me this morning about getting you out of Ferrari." Logan murmurs into my hair and I step back, wiping my face as I blink at him.

"What?"

"Ferrari is using you as a way to push Charles up and he hates it. He was seeing who is staying in what teams for next season. Alex might be moving, Williams might have an open seat, and I might've helped to convince them to write 'Dubey' on it." Logan wipes some tears I missed and smiles, kissing my forehead again and I lean into every soft touch of his, "Obviously, they still need to talk to you, but I can set up that meeting if you need help with that."

When I don't reply with words, but rather the quick press of my red lips to his, his eyes widen in shock and a giggle erupts from the back of my throat.

"Have I ever told you that you're amazing?" I whisper, watching blush peek on his cheeks as he wipes a few more tears from my splotchy face and grins.

"A few times, but I don't mind hearing it over and over again.” he grins.

f1 made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, anyadubey, logansargeant, and 697k others...

f1: hours after it was announced that @ scuderiaferrari is being investigated for mistreatment of @ dhanishkadubey, Dubey announced her departure from the team in the next season, citing 'differing opinions' as the reason for the split.

dhanishkadubey: love u tifosi thank u for an incredible rookie year so far <3

logansargeant: 👀

user1: run girl run

user2: that didn't take long.

charlesleclerc: je te souhaite le meilleur pour ton avenir, petite étoile xx

user3: WAIT?? IS SHE CONTRACTED FOR 2025 BC IT DOESNT SAY SHES LEAVING ENTIRELY??

user4: WHO IS TAKING MY POOKIE.

taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant imagine #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic

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icallhimjoey · 10 months

Text

short bit of writing to help me process a deeply personal current situation - slight chance more of these will pop up in the upcoming few days as i move through all of what needs moving through Wordcount: 1.2K

---

Suddenly Gone

“Hey, it’s me, let me in,”

It sets you off immediately, face scrunching up and everything tensing from your stomach up until it builds too much and sobs slip out. You hold the buzzer down and see in the intercom how Joe needs to turn to push the door open with his shoulder. He’s carrying bags of shopping and, fucking hell, you’d just stopped crying and calmed down enough to maybe go for a big food shop yourself.

It’s been tears and tears and tears. In stupid places. Normal places too.

Just, all over, really.

It's waking up and crying over breakfast because you forgot for the first twenty minutes of the day. It’s yoghurt slowly going salty because you suddenly remembered.

It’s wet cheeks after seeing initials hidden on a number plate when parking outside a supermarket.

It’s kindly unaccepted apologies as you try to croak through a bunch of them for not being able to answer the phone with an unhitched voice.

It's dark clouds but somehow also sunbeams that break through sporadically, because isn’t it all so stupid? Seeing something that you know they would find hilarious, and instead of it making you laugh, it does the exact opposite?

It's stupid.

It’s also people offering and offering and offering.

“Let me know if I can do anything!”

“If there’s anything I can do...”

“Call me whenever, all’s fine, just let me know,”

But you don’t even know what needs doing. What you want. What you need. You know, besides distraction. And your fridge filled. But, that’s weird to ask. It’s polite for people to say nice things but what do you actually ask for? What do you say without burdening someone? Do you just text? With words?

“Hey,”

Bags get put down and you quickly find yourself stood in an embrace, arms wrapped with tenderness and strength, pulling you into a safe haven of solace. Encircled in his arms and surrounded in his warmth, a cocoon of security is created. You’re protected. Understood. Shielded from all the absolute shit that’s found you over the past couple of days.

“How was today?” Joe speaks into your hair.

“Long,”

Leaning into the hug more, Joe allows you a brief respite from the heavy weight of grief. It’s difficult to feel vulnerable for such a long time, for so many consecutive hours. Really drains you.

“Did you get everything sorted?”

“Nearly,”

You feel emotions surge once more, but Joe remains steadfast in his hold. Stable anchor in the storm, keeping the whole ship from drifting, from tipping, from sinking.

You stand there for a long time, and when you start to think of the bags on the floor that hold items that might need a fridge or a freezer, you also notice that the tightness in your chest has eased. Breaths have become deeper.

Joe notices the shift, and pulls back, but only to use both hands to cup your face and connect with you beyond arms embracing and bodies being pushed together.

“Funeral’s Monday,”

And fuck off, just saying wild crazy insane outrageous shit like that gets you. Makes you tense your mouth to keep the whole thing from wobbling, but corners get pulled down as far as they can go anyway. Makes you frown hard to somehow try to keep tears from spilling, which obviously, they do anyway.

Joe uses his thumbs to swipe. Kisses just below your eyes. Presses your head into the crease of his neck below his chin to hide you there, away form the world. Lets you burrow there.

The hug lasts a long time, and you try to convince yourself that it’s not too long. That Joe probably is glad that he gets to help by just holding you a couple of minutes. People keep saying they want to help, and that you just need to let them know.

It’s nice that Joe didn’t wait for you to ask for anything.

He’s just there.

Here.

“I brought food,” he says after a little while, and you’re reminded of the bags once more.

“I’m not hungry,”

It’s not a lie, but you know Joe won’t have it as an answer.

“That’s all right, you can just eat without feeling hungry,”

Kisses get pressed to your forehead, and after one last tight squeeze, bags get taken into the kitchen. You want to help, keep hands busy. Focus on a task. For a moment you’re scared Joe’s going to tell you to let him do it, to go sit down, but Joe knows. Distraction is a welcome temporary escape from overwhelming thoughts and emotions.

But it’s all tricky, isn’t it? It's all fickle things.

You don’t notice how deep you’re lost in thought until you get pulled from them by Joe taking the jar of spaghetti sauce from your grip. You’d been staring at it after pulling it from one of the bags.

“Oh, sorry,”

You watch Joe place it where it goes. You’re not even sure if it’s the brand that she liked, but she fucking loved spaghetti.

“Actually,” you stop Joe from closing the cabinet. “Can we do a bolognese tonight?”

Joe smiles, pulls the jar back from where he put it and leaves it out on the counter.

“Of course.”

Before you know it, there’s hot tears stinging the raw skin once again. And it’s so frustrating. Had you been alone, you would’ve called yourself a stupid bitch out loud because who the fuck cries over the prospect of dinner?!

But you’re not alone. Because Joe’s there, even though you hadn’t asked, hadn’t let him know like everyone asked you to in all their kind messages.

And so tears are just... they're just part of you now.

And you manage to not hate yourself for it.

S'okay.

And Joe doesn’t even really mention it which is exactly right.

“And can we do it with chicken instead of beef?”

“Absolutely,”

It’s how she liked it. Something about the texture of ground beef she hated.

“I know it’s weird,” you start, but before you can finish your sentence, Joe places a packet of diced chicken breast onto the counter.

It’s a gesture that shouldn’t get to you as much as it does, and yet...

“You ok?” Joe asks when Joe giving you want you want, the thing you asked for, has the opposite effect it would usually have – more tears instead of less.

“No,” you shake your head, big wet eyes looking into concerned ones.

“But I will be,”

You’re not sure if it’s happy tears, or maybe if you’re just tired and drained, but you know you’re right. Not all right. Not yet. But you will be. Joe’s there, with hugs and kisses and, you will be.

“S’just a lot,” you shrug, and Joe frowns at you, says, “Of course it is,” like he’s almost upset that you even have to say it. Like he doesn’t understand.

He does.

“But I’ll be fine,”

And he knows you’re right. Doesn't question it. Doesn't say shit anyone else would tell you, that you don't have to be, that you are allowed not to be. Accepts it for the truth, and says,

“But you'll be fine.”

And hearing it from him sets it in stone. Makes you smile, even if only for a second. You will be fine.

the end

---

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