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strang3lov3 · 1 month

Text

Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel.

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day.

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple. You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something.

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy.

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand.

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you.

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic.

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable.

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you.

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.”

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake.

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.”

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.”

The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear, “S’okay, sweet girl.”

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles.

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft.

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you.

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

“Is that it?”

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says. “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.”

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste.

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to.

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs.

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view.

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try.

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips.

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment.

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt.

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt.

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold.

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure. You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure.

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on.

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg.

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend.

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man.

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel tlou #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x virgin reader

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screeching-bunny · 7 months

Note

I'm intrigued by the idea of yandere priest harem.

Just a bunch of sexually repressed men that now have a tangible person to 'worship'.

Yandere! Priest Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Tags: @endism

What the fuck. You can’t believe it but you accidentally started a cult. You weren't sure how but you managed to do it. Everything about it was planned perfectly for you. From the moment you were kidnapped to the moment where you gave in, there was always some sort of routine that the priest followed that seemed almost robotic. Every word or phrase spoken to you seemed somewhat rehearsed as if they were doing everything in their power to make you pleased and happy. Everything that you requested or asked for was quickly met. Did you just say that you were hungry? Don’t worry, wait a couple more minutes and a feast will be made just for you. Did something catch your eye while you were shopping? In a couple minutes it is purchased and given to you. Never in your life had you seen a group more downbad people then these priests. They are incredibly whipped for you and treat you as if you were some kind of God.

Although you were kidnapped you soon learned to just accept the role as their false God. Why? Well to simply put you were just plain lazy and if being kidnapped allowed you to live a luxurious life without needing to work then so be it. Screw having a job and screw having to pay for bills. You will accept this position with grace and take advantage of it however you would like. The only thing that bothered you was why the hell were people joining this stupid cult!?!? By now you expected the stupid priests to run out of money by now due to your spending habits but why on Earth are people still continuing to donate to them!?!? There just always seems to be a never ending supply of money!!!

“Did you see them? The God of this religion is such a cutie. Do you think I have a shot at becoming a priest? Hell, I wouldn’t even mind being a sacrifice to them.” (Go away).

“I just donated my entire retirement fund to them. It’s so worth it. Did you see how cute their sneezes are? I could literally just die!!!” (Then die).

“I shook their hand a few days ago with my right hand. I haven’t washed it since.” (Gross).

Dammit that's why. You're so called “followers” were nothing but a group of some weirdo simps. The only thing that you ever did around this place was give speeches to your cult that came right out of your ass and they would eat it up everytime too. It is so bad that you could literally say that the Earth was flat and they would go to war to defend that you were right. You’ve never seen a group of more stupider people. As of right now you were currently giving out one of those bullshit speeches to your followers.

“... which is why cats are superior over dogs. If you have a cat tell them I said pspspspsp.”

One of the priests raises their hand, “Can you repeat that whole thing again? That was super cute and I forgot to press record.”

Another priest responds with, “Don’t worry I caught it all and I’ll send it to you later. In exchange, can I have that limited edition picture of them sleeping with a teddy bear.”

Another voice shouts, “Wait! I have some never seen before photos of them. Are you willing to trade it for the limited edition picture?”

“...”

Later that night you soon discover that there is a “trading card game” going around the cult using your pictures. You weren’t even sure how they even managed to take these photos but they somehow have them and how were these mass produced without you even noticing!?!? Why are they out of stock and why are they so popular!?!? Everyday is a never ending migraine for you. Just when you thought the priests couldn’t disappoint you even further, they always manage to prove you wrong. If they weren’t the ones feeding you, you would have been long gone by now.

Waking up always felt like a struggle most of the time. Like it literally was a struggle because there was always someone in your bed with you. They would constantly cuddle up to you as close as possible and make it difficult to leave the bed with their weight holding you down. By the time you wake up breakfast is already made and there is someone constantly fighting to decide who gets to feed you. After breakfast, you stroll around the gigantic garden that was funded with the money of taxpayers. Afternoons are spent giving out wack speeches and talking to your loyal followers. Dinners are the same as breakfast and there is competition on who gets to bathe with you. Quite often these end up turning physical fights between everyone. During the night you're out like a light and it’s a repeat of everything the next day.

Every passing day makes you so concerned for the mental health of others. There is just no way that any of these people are mentally sane. They have to be on drugs or something. You refused to believe that these were rational adults that are contributing members of society. No matter how much you try to change your personality, they always find a way to coo at you. On the days that you act like a brat you are met with the responses of, “Oh my god look at them pout that's so adorable!! Now step on me–”. On the days you act lazy it’s met with, “You don’t have to move I’ll do it all for you! Just let me lick your–”. Are you acting happy today? Well that's met with, “Your smile is so radiant! You know what would make your day better if you let me suck–”. In the end though it really doesn’t matter because their main goal in life is to forever worship your being whether you like it or not.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere harem #yandere priest #yandere cult

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euphoricfilter · 6 months

Text

standing next to you:

pairing: dancer! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || strangers to somewhat lovers

summary: with all those eyes on him, he only had eyes for you

word count: 4k

tags/ warnings: infidelity (womp womp), m/c has a crusty rich old bitch of a husband, smut in the forms of: dom! jungkook, who is a little condescending (because we all know i like that), subby! reader, semi-public sex?, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected sex, the pull out method (womp womp), multiple orgasms, cum marking? jungkook has a dick piercing!!!! lets goooo!!!!

notes: yippee jungkook gave me another smut idea. kinda half edited so if there’s mistakes then no there isn’t <\3

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

It couldn’t have been more than half a second, Jungkook’s eyes catching yours for the briefest moment as the spotlights dance over the crowd, what could have been mistaken for the galaxy reflected in your irises as you look at him.

The eyes that told a story of worship, how his mere existence was a crazed phenomenon your brain was barely able to process as you follow his body across the stage.

For months now, he would catch glimpses of you, always sat at the same table with the same people. Never once talking to them as your focus lays solely on him as he dances on stage.

Your face is soon veiled by one of his back-up dancers, flicker of a moment gone. Whatever was there, a short spark of interest simmering out as your face is no longer in his line of sight. Buzz of something a little more snapped, dissolving into fine dust under the orange hue of the light.

There was such innocent wonder in your eyes as your gaze flickers across the stage, entirely enamoured by what lay before you. The theatre nothing like you had ever seen before, ever so extravagant, and elegant. Male dancers dominating the stage, flowing as if they were dancing on ice, so free-spirited in the ways their bodies move.

Constant stimuli of such an event scratching the back of your mind—the way Jungkook moves enough for you to drown out the rest of the chatter behind you, your existence nothing to any of these people.

Your heart hammers in time with the base that tickles the bottom of your feet, broaches on the dancers’ jackets star-like as the spotlight finds its place back on stage, Jungkook’s face soon illuminated again. Face sculpted, a gift from the high heavens, a man that captures the hearts of many, man and woman alike.

He wonders if your eyes remain on him, bright with wonder as he glides across the stage, trying his hardest to find your eyes behind the harsh glare of the lights, sat ever so pretty, the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.

It’s only when the lights dim does he see the hand on your thigh, silver band of a wedding ring sat one of the fingers.

Though you don’t seem to notice, entirely focused on the stage you don’t seem to realise when your husband squeezes your thigh, entirely unaware when he pushes his chair back to stand up. Ignorant to the fact that he saunters over to another woman a couple of tables behind where you’re sat.

Left alone in the company of your husband’s friends, who have no means to talk to you, nor acknowledge your existence. Because who would talk to the wife of the man who clearly has no care for what should be his lover? And as much as you pretend to not notice, never once asking why he gets home so late, or the messages that flash across the screen of his phone, never once have you brought it up.

Because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t there to care, to worry about who got your husband’s dick wet or who was stuffed full of his cum, who had it dripping down their legs when he re-emerges after you hadn’t seen him for what felt like hours. You were there to look pretty, and to smile at any man that gives you attention, nothing more and nothing less.

Jungkook thinks you must be the first to stand on your feet once the performance is over, eager in your applause. Too shy to meet his eyes from where he looks down at you from the stage, but not enough to not show your appreciation for his art. Glittery shimmer of the dim light illuminating you, stood centre of the room, awe reflected from your face as you quickly glance up to look at him before the curtain lowers.

So many minutes of your life stolen by him, perfect in the way his body moved, moments you never wish you get back because you wished to watch him dance forever.

Your eyes flit down to the sliver of stomach that peeks from beneath his blazer when he raises his arms at the applause.

You swallow at the deep rumble of his voice as he thanks the crowd, turning to thank the back-up dancers too before he’s facing you again, hint of a smile on his face as he takes one final bow. The curtains falling from the ceiling, your hair tickling your neck at the short gust of wind it produces.

It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, mind reeling as you glance around the room. Entirely isolated, even with hundreds of people surrounding you.

You can’t see where your husband had wandered off to, swallowing down any apprehension you have as you sit back down, fingers gentle as they pick up the flute of champagne—too expensive for your tastes, and you hate to think just how much it costs. Much rather having the host spend that sort of money on the reason for this evening than wowing guests with expensive alcohol and high-end food. Because surely the fund raiser would fare better with all that money than the pompous assholes that laughed in the face of the less fortunate.

You almost jump out of your seat when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder, eyes wide as your tilt your head upwards to see who it could be. Heart hammering when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, flickering across his face.

You swallow, “Hi” you breathe, turning your body to face him a little better.

The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smile, piercings catching the light, “What’s a pretty girl doing sitting alone?”

He pulls out an empty chair beside you, your head flickering across all the empty chairs around the table, wondering where all your husband’s friends had gone.

“Oh just…” you start, turning back to look at him, words dissolving on your tongue when your eyes meet his.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair a little, legs spread wide. His eyes flicker down to the ring on your finger.

“I thought your performance earlier was amazing” you rush, hands running over your silk dress. Perfect change of conversation.

Jungkook leans a little closer to you, reaching across the table a little to grab your glass of champagne. Your eyes stay trained on his lips as they wrap around the rim of the glass, breath catching in the back of your throat as he downs the rest of your drink.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name?” he urges, eyes sharp as they flicker across your face.

“Y/n” you breathe, “and you are…”

“Jungkook” he holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it, toes curling, imaginary electric current slipping down your body at his gentle touch.

“I could show you backstage if you like?” he offers, hands smothering down the imaginary creases in his suit, nodding towards the stage, “It’s pretty nice back there”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes scanning the room for a moment before you’re looking back at Jungkook nodding, “I would like that” you murmur, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He tugs you a little closer to his side once you’ve stood up, linking your arm with his as he walks the both of you around the maze of tables.

Not once does it cross your mind that all the people in the room can see you clinging onto another man, eyes glued to the side of his face as you paint a picture of him in your mind. After so many months of watching him perform on stage, a perfect entity so far out of reach, he was not stood beside you. Warm flesh radiating underneath his suit jacket, scar on his cheek deepened from the overhead lights, calloused hand holding yours.

Someone that had felt entirely unhuman, so long of yearning, but there he was, touching you like it were nothing and he weren’t one of your dreams. Silly little fantasies of a man that should never be yours, dreams of what days would be like with someone like Jungkook. Dreams that should have never been yours to begin with, not while the slippery claws of the law tie you to another man.

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, helps you up the stairs backstage. Narrow hallway entirely empty as he flicks the light on, “It’s truly wonderful back here” he tells you, not letting go of your hand once.

You look around in awe, head turning to look over the outfits hung on clothes racks as you walk by.

“We can order food in my dressing room? I assume you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t think they plan to bring dinner out for a while longer” he tells you, pulling a set of keys out the front pocket of his jacket, opening the door with ease.

“I am a little hungry” you hum, stepping into the dressing room, sitting on one of the couches when he motions for you to make yourself comfortable.

Your eyes flicker towards the door when he locks it, apprehension clawing its way up your body.

“Jungkook…?” you ask, gaze never leaving the lock, even as he slinks towards you, long steps across the room having him in front of you in no time.

“You’re tense” he sits beside you, hand running down the length of your arm, “Let me fix that”

You don’t miss the dark haze in his eyes, cunt clenching at the mere thought of a man of his calibre wanting you in any sort of way.

You swallow, eyes glancing down at his lips then back up to his eyes, “We can’t” you whisper.

“Why’s that?” he murmurs, fingers training over your thighs, silk dress soft under his fingertips.

“Because…” you start, swallowing down a whimper when his fingers graze your warm skin.

“Because” he urges, teasing as he inches his fingers that little big higher.

“Because my—” you swallow, Jungkook’s scoff cutting you off.

“Because of your incompetent husband?”

You tongue wets your bottom lip, fingers clenching by your side, “Yes” your voice breathless.

“Leave him” Jungkook groans, hand tugging yours closer to him, slipping the wedding ring off your finger.

You watch as he holds it, prickle of guilt building within your chest at the fact you don’t feel bad in the slightest for what you want from Jungkook, nor the fact he holds a symbol of love and you can only wish for him to take it forever, no longer yours. No longer a burden you wish to carry.

He slips it into the pocket of his jacket, leaning forward enough for the tip of his nose to kiss yours, short huff of a breath slipping past his lips. He tilts his head a little, gentle hesitation tugging at his body; leeway for you to pull away and stop this whenever you want.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, tugging him towards you. A groan catches in the back of his throat when your lips collide with his, desperate need radiating from every pore of your electrified body—tongue prodding at his bottom lip.

“My darling” he breathes in the brief moment you part, though he wastes no time tilting your head backwards that little bit as he kisses you again.

You hum against his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands wander the length of your body, thumbs digging into your hips, down the length of your thighs until he’s tugging at the hem of your dress.

Your pussy clenches as his fingers inch that little bit higher, moan caught by Jungkook as he ghosts over tender skin, pulling the fabric higher and higher until he’s brushing his knuckles over your panties. Damp beneath his fingers as he presses through your covered folds, your hips bucking upwards when he nudges your clit.

A breathy laugh is pulled from him as you rock forward a little, chasing the pleasure as he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Pretty girl” he murmurs, hand slipping from between your legs to tug at your dress, pulling it up and over your head.

Your arms fold over your bare chest, Jungkook’s tongue wetting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down the length of your body, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs.

“How beautiful” he says, bending down a little to press a gentle kiss over your collar bone. His hands leaving your thighs to tug your arms away from your chest, guttural groan vibrating from his chest.

You let out something similar to a squeak when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, goosebumps prickling up the skin of your arms at the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine as his teeth graze over the sensitive skin.

Slick leaks into your panties as your hand grazes over the evident erection that strains behind the expensive fabric of his pant, cock twitching beneath the tips of your fingers as you squeeze his length.

“Want you” he ruts his hip upwards into your hand, tongue flat over your tits before he sucks at your warm skin, red blossoming with every mean little nip of his teeth. Claim of your body as his, evidence of his lust and your leaking pleasure that pools between your legs.

“You have me” you breathe, fiddling with the button of his dress pants, stumbling over yourself a little as he helps you lay back on the couch. He tugs your panties down your thighs, bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he watches the string of arousal that connects the cotton to your sodden pussy, all puffy and pretty. Clit erect and desperate, moan slipping off your lips when he leans down to press a kiss to the swollen little nub, pocketing your panties in his jacket.

“Jungkook” you moan, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him further into your pussy, hips rolling up into his face as he lays his tongue flat for you to ride.

He tugs down his pants and underwear just under his straining cock as you use him to get yourself off, shameless in your own pleasure as he moans into your pussy—incoherent whisper of how good you taste drowned out by the slick sound of your folds parting, fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking between your walls.

You clench around the intrusion, fingers tightening their hold on Jungkook’s hair as you moan out his name, mind nothing but lust filled mush, pleasure coursing through every inch of your body as he sucks on your clit.

“Gonna cum” you moan, fingers tugging at your nipples. Hiccup of his name catching in your throat at a particularly hard suck, thick fingers curling right over your sweet spot.

He presses a second finger into your, incessant nudge against your insides sending you reeling over the edge. A cry falling from your lips as you reach your peak, hips still rutting up into Jungkook’s mouth as you ride your high.

“Good girl” he murmurs against your pussy, fingers slipping out of you so he can drink down your release. Tip of his tongue pressing past your entrance to take whatever your body has to give him, cum coated fingers pressing slightly over your still buzzing clit, fiery pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.

“S’ too much” you whine, pushing his head from between your legs, sheen of your arousal coating his mouth and chin shiny.

Your eyes flicker down when something shiny catches the light, and they widen slightly when you see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, thumb running over the king’s crown piercing.

“Oh” you murmur, pussy clenching at the prospect of him being inside of you.

Jungkook hums, fingers squeezing tighter around his length, “You like it, baby?”

You swallow, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You nod, legs falling open a little wider for him, “Want it” you mumble, fingers parting your folds, silent invitation for him to split you open, fuck and fill you until you’re nothing than a pile of pleasure.

“Yeah?” his lips curl at the corners, hint of a smile showing.

“Mhmm” you nod, and his eyes catch sight of your cunt clenching.

“What do we say when we want something, baby?” he urges, scooting between your legs, pressing his cockhead through your folds, watching your hips jolt at the gentle stimulation to your clit.

You arch your back, dribble of slick caught by the tip of his cock as he slicks his length up with your arousal.

“Please, Jungkook” you breathe, “Please I need you”

“So good for me” he groans, thumb pressing just under his piercing, pressing his cock into you.

Your mouth falls open into a silent moan, ache throbbing down your length as his cock splits you open.

“Good girl” he murmurs, stomach tensing when you clench around his cock, piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.

“So good” you moan, hands finding his hips to pull him further inside of you, desperate for every agonising inch he had.

He holds himself inside of you, pelvis flushed with the backs of your thighs as he helps you rest your legs around his waist.

“Yeah, you feel good, baby?” he leans down, lips pressing against your jaw, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, gently rutting his cock into you, “Better than your husband could ever make you feel, yeah?”

He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench around his girth, thighs twitching at his words.

“Come on baby, tell me how much better I make you feel” he taunts, dragging an inch of his cock out of you, distressed whine tumbling past your lips as your pussy clenches, trying to pull his cock back into you.

“Tell me” one of his hands takes hold of your jaw, tugging your face so your eyes meet his, “Tell me”

“You make me feel better than he does” you mumble.

“Louder” he shakes your head a little.

“You make me feel better” you say a little louder, chest tightening.

“Than who?” he urges, thumb running over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth and over your tongue.

“My husband” you slur, mouth tugged open by his thumb.

“And who do you belong to?”

You blink up at Jungkook, drool gathering in the corners of your lips, such a pretty little thing. Ever so messy and desperate, awfully cute if you asked Jungkook.

“Who?”

You swallow, pussy clenching, “You”

“Mmhmm” he hums, “that’s right, all mine”

You rut your hips upwards, clit dragging against his stomach, thrum of pleasure making your toes curl, eyes still trained on Jungkook as you try and get yourself off.

He tugs at the corner of your mouth, thumb pressing into your cheek, watching as the skin bulges. And he wonders briefly what you’d look like with his cock stuffed in your mouth, pretty eyes blinking up at him like they did when he performed on stage; like he held all the secrets to the world in the palms of his hands. Those same hands that would smother your body with his love, dimpling pretty skin and pulling you back onto his cock.

“Jungkook” you whine, hips rutting a little more desperately, so needy for a second orgasm.

“A needy little thing, that’s what you are” his lips curl into a smile, thumb falling from your mouth as his hips pull backwards, your thighs quivering at the drag of his piercing inside of you.

He pulls out until the tip, hands tugging your thighs open a little wider before he’s snapping back into you, relentless as he picks up his pace. He holds you by the backs of your knees, angling your body that little bit off the couch, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot with every rough jab back into you.

“Shit, that’s good” he groans, wet smack back into you echoing off the walls of the dressing room.

You moan a staccato of his name, nothing but how good his cock fills you up in your mind, so entirely full of Jungkook in every respect of the word.

He doesn’t slow down, rhythmic with every thrust back into you, pussy clenching as your fingers slide down the length of your body, pressing over your sensitive clit.

“I’m close” you moan, free hand dragging down the length of his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his suit as your back arches.

“Come for me, baby” he groans, “Make a mess of my cock”

Your hand slips from his arm, grabbing hold of your chest as you continue to flick your clit, moan catching in the back of your throat as you slip head first into your orgasm.

Jungkook watches your face contour in pleasure, snapping his cock into you sloppy. He twitches between your walls, fingers digging into you a little harder, staving off his orgasm for as long as he can while you ride out your high, mind so far gone, eyes glazed over as you look up at him.

“That’s it, baby” his voice is gruff, pressing his cock against your sweet spot, your hips jolting, pleasure slipping into odd tingly overstimulation as he ruts into you, your fingers still pressing over your clit.

Jungkook moans, cock slipping out of you, his hand quick to wrap around his length. Slick noise reverberating in your ears as he brings himself over the edge, angling his cock so his cum paints your stomach. Thick string of white coating your skin, spurts of it shooting out of his cock. His stomach tenses, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes his cockhead, final spurt of his seed slipping just over your clit, joining the wet mess of your cunt as it slips down your folds.

“That’s a good girl” he groans, letting go of his softening cock.

He looks at you down the length of his nose, watching as you smear his cum over your skin, absolutely fascinated as it clings to your fingers.

His cock stirs in interest when you dip your fingers into your mouth, tongue licking up his release.

“You little minx” he laughs, bringing your legs back down, bending to press a kiss to your cum stained lips.

Your eyes slip shut as he kisses you, any tension left in your body dissolving as his tongue licks up his own release from your lips.

“Leave him” Jungkook murmurs, mouth hovering over yours, eyes still closed as the both of you bask in your afterglow. Skin sweat tacky, cooling slowly as his fingers dance over your skin, final humming of pleasure beneath your skin fizzling away.

“I can’t” you breathe.

“Run away then” he says, “with me”

Your eyes slip open, hand holding Jungkook’s jaw.

“Jungkook” you warn.

“What?” he mumbles, eyes slipping open to meet your own, “We can go somewhere far, he won’t find you… he won’t find us”

You wet your bottom lip, mind reeling as you weigh out your options.

“He doesn’t love you” his thumb runs over your cheek.

“I know” you whisper, eyes flickering between his, “But do you?”

Jungkook swallows, “Not as much as I want to, but that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling isn’t love”

You glance over at the clock on the wall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as silence stretches out between the both of you.

You let out a long sigh, “We have an hour at most… before he’ll come looking”

Jungkook can’t help the smile that tugs onto his lips, “Then we should get going?”

The corners of your own lips tug upwards, “Yes… I suppose we should” you say, taking the hand he offers to help you sit up.

“Don’t make me regret this” you warn him as you slip your dress over your head, cringing at the drying cum that clings to your skin.

“I won’t” he promises.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts non idol au #bts

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landograndprix · 6 months

Text

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part vii

✧.* you've finally secured your well deserved p1 after months of suffering with red bull and while you celebrate it the right way, love is in the air and everybody sees it now.

✧.* when i think about my muppets i think about this song, should i make like a playlist of songs that remind me of this fic, give y'all the vibes ive been having? 👀 spelling mistakes add character, don't mind them 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, milouberger and 453,789 others

y/nusername I'd like to thank my parents— p1 baby!🏆

tagged: mclaren

view all 742 comments

y/nloveee yes baaaaabbyyyyy 🤩🤩

norrizz one big fat fuck you to red bull!

adam_norris_pure_electric amazing race, amazing driver!🥇

carlandooo oh my gosh, I'm dead, Adam out here supporting his future daughter in law 😭

norry4 stop it 😭

ricky78 bring it home y/n!

natewhite this girls good, she should try racing in f1..

carlossainz55 well deserved! 🔥

chilisainz wish I had a supportive ex boyfriend 💀

y/nlandooo we're so back with our 1-2!

yourmomsuser super proud of you! 🥰

milouberger back where you belong!

hamilt44n girl, shut up..as if you didn't try to push her off the track halfway..🤨

redbullgirl come back please, perez is a joke 😢

landonorris that's my girlfriend 😍

bott_ass we were aware 😂

landonorris you got any plans tonight? wanna celebrate?

landosmclaren HOWLING ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED

maxfewtrell mega race 🙌

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landonorris posted on their story

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cecilemoulin posted to their story

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, riabish and 689,872 others

y/nusername ending an amazing weekend with my favorite lil' guy 🧡

tagged: landonorris

view all 878 comments

norrizz honestly such a power couple!!

sharl16 oh they in love love huh?

bott_ass not the after sex selfie 😭

bananaclerc I was looking for this comment 😭

y/nlando y/n's finally showing more of her and lando on here 🥺

mrsnorris 🤮 get someone your own age 🤮

cecilemoulin I just know y'all were late because you've been watching tiktok's in bed all morning..

y/nusername Cecile thirst trap edits go hard

carlandooo y'all think y/n finally realised she likes this man? Seemed pretty one sided to me for a hot minute 😂

ceciley/n I think Cecile said in an interview that THEY aren't used to dating younger dudes and that she felt out of place for the first few weeks..pretty sure she meant herself and y/n 😉

carlandooo CECILE IS DATING SOMEONE?

ceciley/n yeah..max fewtrell? Girl where have you been? 😂

carlandooo under a fucking rock apparently! Wow, these girls really said young, cute and british? Yes ma'am 🥰 so real of them

ceciley/n a couple of besties dating another couple of besties 😂

hamilt44n where are Carlos and Pierre now? You think they gave up? :')

landonorris favourite lil' muppet 🧡

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Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris image #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando norris #lando x reader

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 month

Text

Take Care of You [10]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 5.7k

Mood board and borders by @saradika

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[A/N: 🤡. I came back to life to immediately die off again i'm so sorry. here take this next part and all my love. speaking of my love, i already closed beta readers on tiktok but for anyone on here, if you wanna see why i've been so MIA, shoot me a message with your email if you wanna beta read my original work (i do ask that you do a questionnaire afterwards but that's just to help me out). But, imagine a scifi/fantasy where the book 'Six of Crows' meets 'The Last of Us', and I have good sources that y'all like TLOU👀]

[A/N pt.2: I did not edit this to the degree I should have and there is no tag list at the bottom i am so so so so sorry].

10: THE EVIDENCE IS PRETTY DAMNING

The ceiling wasn’t right.

That was your first, foggy thought when your eyes opened. Rather than the bumpy, plaster speckles collecting dust it was smooth and off white. You slowly sat up with a groan, head spinning and mouth dry, and you blinked three times before your situation dawned on you. This was not your bed, not your house. Fuck. You set your hands on the bed to lean back then winced. With a hiss, you pulled your hand up and saw the bandaged injury from last night.

You cradled the hand with your other and turned to hang your legs over the edge of the bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a note on the nightstand. You leaned over. There was a full water bottle and a bottle of tylenol resting on top of a piece of paper. On the paper, in scratchy, nearly illegible, writing was, ‘Come downstairs when you’re ready. Feel free to use the shower and change if you want. ⏤Joel’. You dragged your fingers to trace the words.

With a shaky breath, you grabbed the water bottle and took a couple pills in hopes to nurse the aches and pains you felt. You stared at the words again. Last night, Joel admitted to being married to Sarah’s mom and you had responded by passing the fuck out. You had tried to argue, demand more information, but your body fought against your curiosity. All the drinks you had prior and the fading adrenaline from the fight probably hadn’t helped.

You rose from the bed with a groan and crossed to use the bathroom adjoined to Joel’s bedroom. When you flicked the lights on, you took the first movement to glance around the space. The walls were beige with white tile floors. On one side was a large jacuzzi style tub next to an expansive walk in shower. On the other was ample counter space and drawers with matching him and her sinks. In the back was the small room where the toilet sat and beyond that a walk in closet. The space was lived in. A dirty clothes basket off to the side half full, toiletries on the counter and on the shelves in the shower, you spotted a pair of glasses you had never seen Joel wear resting by the sink on the right side of the counter. That must be the one Joel used most. A toothbrush sat by it and you noticed water by the rim like he hadn’t wiped up when finished.

Also on the counter were a stack of clothes, you stepped toward it and saw it was a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that must have belonged to him. On top of it was a brand new toothbrush. Your gaze lifted to look at yourself in the mirror and you flinched. You looked a mess⏤ your hair, your clothes, everything. You rubbed at your face with a sigh and slipped into a morning time routine despite the unfamiliar setting.

Celina.

The name rang in your head over and over and over again. It didn’t matter that you had been only half with it last night. You remembered that clearly. As you cleaned up, your headache began to improve and by time you left the bathroom you at least felt human again. A new anger bubbled just under your skin. You couldn’t quite yet put your anger into words, but you knew it was there. After washing up, you traded the clothes you wore to the bar for the ones Joel left you. The shirt was worn out, like it was aged, and navy in color. It read ‘Miller’s Contracting’ with a number on it for contact. It reminded you of the kind of shirt a small company would make and not a multi-million dollar one. You tightened the waistband of Joel’s sweatpants. They were at least joggers so you didn’t have to worry about tripping over yourself.

You crossed the upstairs, open space to the stairs. Faintly, you heard the sound of someone moving around downstairs. A brief wave of nervousness had you hesitating at the top of the stairs, but it slipped away back to anger. It seemed that was where your heart was making camp this morning.

Slowly, you descended the stairs. The wooden floors under your feet didn’t creak or make noise as you padded into the living room first. A few couches were situated in front of a wall that held a large flat screen TV and a fireplace. The back wall was made of glass, a window and door all in one that revealed the back patio where a small pool and deck were, and the space beside it was the kitchen. Just as open as the rest of Joel’s house. The cabinets were made of dark wood with matching countertops and at the center was a large island with chairs.

On the island counter looked like to-go boxes of food. You stared at them a moment longer, but a door hidden just out of view on the wall in the kitchen opened. Joel stepped into the kitchen nonchalantly until he spotted you and did a double take. He froze and stared. The two of you were actually similarly dressed. He had on a t-shirt that looked tight on his broad shoulders and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Joel looked exhausted.

“Hey.” He said softly. “Mornin’, sug⏤” Joel stopped himself, it looked like he choked on his words, but he locked his jaw and changed direction. “Mornin’. How did you sleep?” You gave a small shrug and a tight lipped smile. “Right. How’s your…” Joel lifted his own hand. “Your hand?”

You lifted it up to stare down at it. The bandages had been pulled away when you washed up this morning. It didn’t look so bad. “It’s fine. Thanks for the⏤ the tylenol. And the toothbrush. And the,” You motioned to the clothes hanging off your frame, “You know.”

“Can I?” Joel nodded toward you.

“I said, it’s fine, Joel.”

“I…” He sighed and the look in his eyes was agonizing. “I know you’re pissed at me. Understandably so. But, please let me…”

You walked over to sit down at one of the tall chairs at the island counter and set your hand on the marble top. Joel mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ and disappeared for a quick second. He was back with a small first aid kit again. You twisted your lips when you felt his warm hand cautiously take yours. It was quiet as he reapplied a bit of medicine to the hand before wrapping it up again.

“You don’t…” Joel started then cleared his throat. You never would have used the word anxious to describe the Joel you had gotten to know thus far, but nervous energy seemed to radiate off him. The tension in his shoulders looked painful to keep hold of. “I had breakfast delivered. Some stuff I know you like.” Joel pulled his hand away from yours. “But you don’t have to stay if you don’t wanna.”

“No. I want to.” You replied. Joel looked briefly hopeful. “I want to talk about this. I want⏤ to know. I want answers.”

“Right. Of course.” Joel nodded quickly. “I owe you at least that.” You nodded in agreement. Joel straightened from where he stood and ran a hand over his chest and shoulder with a quiet cough. “Can I make you something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?”

You gave a small nod, mumbling a response, and watched as Joel put it all together. He poured himself a cup of coffee after serving you. Rather than take the seat beside you, he stood on the other side of the island counter across from you.

“You mentioned the girl from Vegas last night briefly, but how did you know…”

“Yo-yo told me you had a sugar baby before me. That you married her.”

“I did have a sugar baby before you, yes.” Joel sighed.

“Why did you lie to me?” You demanded.

Joel shook his head, “I never lied to you. I just⏤ I never told you, and you never asked.”

“Really?” You scoffed. “That’s what you wanna hang your hat on here? Semantics?” Joel hung his head then shook it a bit. “I didn’t want to believe her, but yesterday Nima texted someone she knows. A private investigator⏤”

Joel’s eyes widened, “You hired a private investigator??”

“I didn’t hire anybody! Nima just texted them and they confirmed⏤”

“You went to a PI before just asking me?” Joel replied sharply. You leaned back in your seat⏤ in shock at his audacity. He must have noticed how you felt because he held up a hand. “I just mean, that’s a huge invasion of privacy and all you had to do was call me⏤”

You pushed out of your seat and turned to leave. Joel called out after you before following. He grabbed your hand to tug you to a stop and you glared at him over your shoulder. You snapped, “If you’re just going to stand there and be defensive then there’s no reason for me to be here, Joel.” You pulled your hand out of his grip and spun to face him. “I understand that getting in contact with a fucking PI was a crazy move, but yesterday I felt a little crazy.” You scoffed. “I felt like an idiot. I felt like a naive, desperate idiot who got played. So, yeah, I let Nima text her cousin’s cousin’s cousin to find an answer because the thought of standing in front of you and asking⏤”

The rest of your words got caught in your throat. You didn’t want to get emotional in front of Joel. More than anything you wanted to keep your cool and be collected. Just in case he did break your heart, you could walk away with at least some of your dignity intact. Joel took a step closer. Thankfully, he didn’t try to touch you, but he did lift his hands slightly in surrender.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m being defensive. Hell, I'm being an ass.” You locked your jaw and let your eyes focus on something over his shoulder. Unable to stare into those deep, dark eyes. “This is… This isn’t an easy subject for me to talk about and I⏤ I panicked. I want you to hear me out. I want you to know the truth.” He shifted in his stance so your gaze was forced to meet his. The longing there made you suck in a sharp breath. “Please. Give me another chance to explain this. I’ll do better.”

You rubbed the back of your neck with your non-injured hand and gave a small nod.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Joel repeated himself. He took a step back but kept his shoulders facing you as if he thought you were a flight risk. Joel motioned to his couch. “Do you wanna sit? I’ll grab our drinks.” You sighed and meandered over to sit down on one end of his leather couch. Joel didn’t move back into the kitchen until after you were seated. He came back with both of your drinks and handed you your own before sitting on the other side of the couch. One cushion of space between the two of you.

You took a sip, trying to gather your thoughts, before nodding once. “I want to know about your wife first. Celina, you said? I want to know about her.”

“Yeah.” Joel swallowed thickly. “Do you remember anything I mentioned about Sarah’s mom before?”

“I didn’t know her name.” You replied. “You said the two of you had dated for, like, three months?” Joel nodded. “She got pregnant, and you worked it out. Things were fine, but two weeks after Sarah was born she left. You never said the two of you got married though.”

“Because we didn’t.” Joel replied softly. “I asked. Proposed to her when we found out she was pregnant with Sarah, and she said no.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he wasn’t meeting your gaze anymore. Joel stared down at the coffee mug in his hands. “I loved her. She was my first real love, actually. I knew our situation wasn’t ideal, but… I wanted it to work. I saw a future with her.” Joel ran his thumb back and forth on the edge of his mug’s rim where it reached. He chuckled, “When Sarah was born… Those two weeks? It was⏤ It was good. But, uh, then she left.” Joel shrugged in a way that attempted nonchalance but did not meet the mark. “Her leaving hurt for a lot of reasons. For one, in no way was I prepared to take care of a newborn.”

You set your drink on the coffee table before leaning back. Joel stayed silent, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and you recognized the look of someone getting stuck in their own memories. You spoke up, “What happened then? When did you get married?”

“Celina is…” Joel began. He rubbed his jawline. “I spent a lot of time being furious with her⏤ hating her. Not just for leaving me behind, but for leaving Sarah. Sarah deserved better.” He shook his head. “But she… she came to me, needing help, and I⏤ I couldn’t say no. Not to her. And not because I still had any sort of feelings for her, but because no matter how angry I was at her she gave me Sarah.” A vulnerable softness filled his features and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze fully. “Without Celina, I wouldn’t have Sarah.”

You could understand that. You knew that his daughters meant absolutely everything to Joel. More so, despite all the shit going on between the two of you right now, despite Joel arguing otherwise, you knew he was a good man. You had a very hard time picturing him saying no to anyone who came to him for help.

“When did she come to you? And why? What problem is solved with marriage?”

“Three years ago. Just about.” Joel mumbled. “It’s… She was sick. Cancer. The only feasible treatment was going to bankrupt her because her insurance refused to cover the cost. Celina came back wanting to see Sarah. Get to know her before she died.” Your eyes widened in surprise at both the news and the confusion that came with trying to connect the dots. “I told her that was up to Sarah⏤ she was old enough to make that decision for herself and I was gonna support her with whatever she chose.”

You nodded slowly, “Okay…”

“Sarah decided she did want to meet her mom. And I…” Joel paused. He set his coffee mug down on the coffee table as well and laced his fingers together. He was fidgeting. Another nervous tick of his. Joel could never seem to keep his hands still when he was caught in his own mind. It was like his hands so desperately wanted to fix what stressed him out⏤ even if it wasn’t a physical problem they could fix. “I⏤ I couldn’t stop thinking… remembering…”

Joel squeezed his eyes shut, and the palpable pain had you shifting closer. It dawned on you. Words clicking in your mind. You set a hand on his forearm and gave it a small squeeze, “Your mom.” Joel had told you, ages ago, that he had lost his own mother to cancer. “You lost her. I remember you telling me.”

“Yes.” Joel unlaced his own fingers so he could settle one hand on top of yours⏤ still resting on his forearm. The tip of his thumb dragged back and forth against the knuckle of your index finger. Tracing the shape of it. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t the exact same, I know that, but… Sarah technically had already lost her once.”

“Joel…”

“I offered to pay. Pay for the treatment in full.” Joel’s thumb stilled to squeeze your hand once. “I’d cover all the costs, but⏤ but Celina refused. Said she didn’t want,” Joel scoffed with a humorless laugh, “Didn’t want to be a ‘charity case’. Said she didn’t come back for my money, or for me to fix the problem, she came back for Sarah.” Joel shook his head. “We argued in circles for God knows how long. We finally settled on this. If we got married, she’d have my insurance instead of her own. My insurance would cover most of the treatments and she’d pay what it didn’t.”

You understood that. It matched up with what you knew about Joel. “How is she? Now?”

“In remission. Since seven months ago, she’s been in remission.” A small smile flickered on his features. “She lives in Waco. Wanted to be closer to Sarah. One of the only reasons I could stomach all of us coming to LA while Sarah stayed in Texas for college. I knew she’d at least have her there in case of emergencies.”

Your face scrunched in question, “Then why… Why are you still married?”

“I don’t have a reason. Not a real one. Not beyond me just being lazy.” Joel said firmly. He held your hand tight, keeping it pinned to his arm, like it was a lifeline. “Up until now, it didn’t matter to me. It made no difference. That’s it. I swear to you, sugar.” The nickname fell out of his mouth like second nature. “And I’m working on changing that already. You can ask Tommy or⏤ or hell I’ll give you Celina’s number or our lawyer’s number. We started the official divorce paperwork the day you and I got back from Vegas. It was the first call I made after dropping you off at your place.”

You did believe him. As Joel held your gaze, all you could see in those soulful eyes was a deep desperation. An ache seeking the comfort that would come with reassurance. “I believe you.” You said softly and his eyes closed in relief. His entire body sagged as the tension seeped out of it. You really did believe him, and of all the ways this could’ve gone wrong technically you supposed this was the best case scenario. However, learning this made you realize what aspect of this bothered you more than most. You slid your hand out from under his. “Why… Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was… I was going to. After.”

“Why though? Why after?” You shook your head. “Why didn’t you trust me with this?” Joel’s face fell again. “I know we haven’t known one another for long, but…” You bit back your words before you admitted to the naive truth that you felt some sort of connection to him. That being with him was as easy as breathing and you foolishly let yourself get carried away. “I don’t…”

Joel quickly scooted closer, a hand held up in surrender, “Had nothing to do with⏤ with me not… I do trust you. I do.” Joel shook his head. “Me not mentioning this had nothing to do with you. It was me.” His words reminded you of Vegas. This excuse was sounding familiar and the more you heard it the harder it was to believe. He hung his head and winced. “I need to tell you about⏤ about Erina.”

“That’s…” You began. “Is that your sugar baby?

“Yeah.” Joel nodded. “But it was more complicated than that.”

“So, I’m gathering.” You mumbled. The words of frustration left your lips before you could filter them. In this situation, you felt you had every right to be upset and bitter, but the look of pained guilt that filled Joel’s features made every cell in your body vibrate with regret. It felt like you had just kicked a puppy, and those sad, brown eyes were heart wrenching. “Sorry.”

Joel shook his head quickly. “No. Don’t. You don’t need to be sorry. I do.”

“You’re talking to me⏤ answering my questions.” You replied with a small shrug. “The least I can do is not be petty.” You twisted your lips. “So? Tell me about her.”

“She wasn’t my sugar baby to begin with.” Joel started softly. He turned his head to keep his gaze on the mug sitting on the coffee table, and you found the story easier to stomach without those powerful eyes focused on you. “My company got hired for a job. It was a big one, which is why it came across my desk. Some summer project. A finance guy wanted his vacation house completely renovated in Malibu. I decided to take a more hands on position for the entire thing. Stayed on site to work.” It wasn’t a shock to hear. You were plenty aware that Joel spent most of his work time on site if he could. Joel only donned a tie for the board room when Tess wrestled him into it. “The guy who hired us wasn’t there, but his wife was. At least, I thought it was his wife.”

“But it wasn’t.”

Joel gave out a sad chuckle, “No. She wasn’t. Erina was… lively and energetic. She was fun, and I… It had been a long time since I experienced that kind of light hearted fun. Plus, the client, when he did come around, was such an asshole to her and I⏤” Joel sighed. “She left him midway through the project, but we didn’t get involved with one another until after it was over. When it started, it was great. The honeymoon phase was…” His voice trailed off as a small, sad smile crossed his face. You found your stomach churn in jealousy at him talking about this other woman. It was damn near nonsensical, but the emotion rose up regardless. “The issues started a while in. I realized that we saw the relationship differently. I thought… I thought what we had was real, and she only saw me as her new sugar daddy.”

For a while, we just went on. I didn’t think the difference in how we viewed things would matter. Stupid, I know, but… I thought I was happy.” Joel mumbled the last bit. He lifted a hand to rub at his jawline. “As you’ve probably figured out, I’m not⏤ I’m not good at this. Relationships and…” He tensed. “Some people are just better off alone, but I’ve been too hard headed to accept that.”

“Joel.” You interrupted the flow of his story at his claim. You didn’t believe that and you especially refused to believe it about Joel. “That’s not⏤”

“Things were still working until I…” Joel shook his head. “I told her about Celina. Tried to explain the situation to her, but when she told me to get divorced and I couldn’t⏤ that’s when it all started to crumble. I didn’t actually end the relationship until after I found out she was seeing a few other guys.” You opened your mouth the speak, the beginnings of a sentence you didn’t know how to end slipping from your tongue, but Joel suddenly turned in his seat to face you and the look in his eyes silenced any attempt at speech. He hesitantly reached out and let his hand settle on top of yours. When you didn’t pull away, he squeezed his grip tighter. “You and Erina are not the same. It wasn’t until after we stopped seeing one another that I realized how terrible our relationship had been. So please, please, don’t think I’m comparing you to her because I’m not. I know how she reacted is not some⏤ some default and you wouldn’t necessarily react the same, but… but every time I considered telling you about Celina, all I could imagine was you leaving. And I, selfishly, stopped myself from admitting the truth to you because I didn’t want to ruin this the way I ruin everything else.”

You murmured his name. Early on, you recognized Joel had trust issues, but you had never realized it stretched this far. Joel didn’t trust even himself. It broke your heart that he thought so poorly of himself. No matter how upset you were at the man you knew deep down he was a good. His mistake had hurt you, but it hadn’t been born of malice. You saw that now. Fear and self doubt had brought the two of you to this crossroads.

“Joel, that isn’t true.” You said softly. “You don’t ruin everything.”

“The evidence is pretty damning.” Joel chuckled sadly. You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head quickly and held out a hand to stop you. “That’s not the point of… I should’ve told you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I should’ve told you, been up front about it all, and I’m sorry.” Joel sighed. “I’m sorry, sugar.”

He had answered a number of your questions and with the truth came the relief of knowing. Plus, the answer technically hadn’t been your worst case scenario. God knew your brain was plenty capable of thinking up some nightmare-ish situations. So in comparison, it would be worse. Still, there was an itch that hadn’t quite yet been scratched.

“Why… Why seek out a new sugar baby?” You asked. His experience with Erina had obviously been less than ideal so why try again? You shook your head, “Why me?”

“Those are two very different questions.”

“How do you figure that?”

“I …” Joel began hesitantly. You could see his thoughts jumbling in his mind as he struggled to string one along. Conversations like this were hardly considered Joel’s comfort zone so you did appreciate that he was trying. That went a long way as well. “Erina came back into my life not so long ago.” You felt your stomach drop and your heart clench painfully. The emotional response was so physical that it nearly made you sick. Joel must have noticed because he quickly reached out and settled a hand on your shoulder. “No. Not like that. She means nothing to me. She came to me wanting to get back together, harassing me about it, but I’ve made it crystal clear to her and everyone around us that I have no interest in restarting something with her. Especially now.”

“Okay…”

“The idea was…” Joel winced sheepishly. “The idea was to hire a sugar baby as a way to show her that I was serious. We were done and I was moving on.” It was ridiculous enough that from anyone’s else mouth you wouldn’t have believed them, but they had been said in Joel’s sincerity. “I know how that sounds.”

“Not good. It sounds not good.”

“I know. Everyone told me it was a bad idea. Tess, Sarah, Ellie.” You found it interesting that his daughters knew about their father’s love life to that degree. It spoke to how close they were and his stance on honesty. Joel chuckled. “Actually, the only person who agreed with me on the plan was Tommy, but I suppose that should’ve been a sign to give it up.” Your lips twitched up mildly in amusement. “But, deep down I knew it would hurt Erina, and I… I wanted to be petty.”

You shrugged, “And I’m apart of this… how? To annoy Erina?”

“No.” Joel said firmly, almost roughly. “Absolutely not. Remember the day you bought me that coffee? I said I had been meeting with some other, um, women?” You nodded and let him continue. “By time I made it to the that coffee shop, I had already half decided to give up the idea. It was obviously going poorly. I was literally just looking for someone I wouldn’t mind spending time with and I couldn’t even do that. But you were… God, meeting you felt like a breath of fresh air.” He messily ran a hand through his hair while his other continued to fidget. “You stayed on my mind and when I spotted you again…”

“I…” You tried to find the right words. The ones he would want to hear. It felt odd to give forgiveness for a misunderstanding, but you knew that’s what he was seeking. Validation. “I forgive you.”

The relief on Joel’s face was staggering and when he held a hand out to you, you knew exactly what he was asking for. You closed the space and let him pull you into a hug. His warm, large hands enveloped you as he craddled the back of your head to hold you as closely to him as you could. You wrapped your own arms around him and lazily dragged your thumb up and down where it rested.

You did forgive him for this. That was the truth and you meant it with your whole heart, but this entire experience was eye opening. You had fallen for Joel so dangerously fast. It made you realize that if this had been a different scenario, one of the nightmare-ish ones you imagined, it would’ve destroyed you. With the speed you were moving in, you would’ve hit the ground at a million miles per hour and shattered. You forgave Joel, but you needed to figure out a way to better guard your heart.

“I’m sorry for reaching out to a PI.”

“No. Don’t be.” Joel pulled back and the hand at the back of your head dragged forward to cup the side of your face. He sighed, “You were right. I should’ve handled this better, but I… I do appreciate you saying so.” The two of you sat in a moment of silence and for the first time since you met him that silence felt awkward. Joel must have felt it as well based on the clearing of his throat and fidgeting. “So… Are we— Are we okay?”

You nodded, “I think so.” The tension left Joel’s shoulders and you quickly stood. “I should… I should go.”

“You’re off today though, aren’t you?” Joel stood as well.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Stay. Please.” Joel motioned back to the kitchen. “Have breakfast. I called Tommy and he’s gonna bring over your stuff.” Your eyes widened in surprise and he shrugged. “Tommy is gonna bring over your friend who has your stuff I should say.”

You hesitated, nervous after this heart to heart, but Joel held out a hand to you. Equally a peace offering and lifeline. You just weren’t sure if it was a lifeline for you or him. You set your hand in his and he gave it a small squeeze. The smile on his face was soft and open. Two words you knew not many people were able to claim as a description with him.

Joel led you back toward the kitchen and when you turned to try and go back for your mug he stopped you. He settled you on one of the bar stools, hands lingering on your hips briefly, before going back to the living room for both your mugs.

“You know, when I pictured you spending the night here this wasn’t quite how I thought it’d go.” Joel chuckled and grabbed a plate. You leaned on the counter and waited since you knew that plate he was making was meant for you. It took a second for his words to dawn on you. Joel pictures you spending the night in his home with him? Your face and neck warmed at the thought. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had those kinds of ideas, but hearing it from him still made your heart flutter. Even with the disaster miscommunication still lingering in your rear view mirror. “Here. Lemme know if you want anything else.” Joel set the plate in front of you and handed you a fork. After making his own plate, he pulled the barstool beside you closer and sat down. He sat sideways to face you and his knee pressed against your stool. “We could, uh, we could have a day in.”

“Hm?” You took a bite of your food.

“We’re both in pajamas and neither of us have work.”

“You don’t have work?” You asked in surprise.

Joel shook his head. “I already called Tess and told her I wasn’t coming in today. Told her I was feeling sick.”

“Did she actually believe you?” You smirked.

“No.” Joel chuckled. “She didn’t. But she also didn’t call me out on my shit, so…”

He gave you a charming smile, obviously trying to lighten the mood, and you found you appreciated it. Things weren't perfect, but for the sake of what had been you were willing to try.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #sugar daddy!joel miller x reader #sugardaddy!joel miller #i forgot what tags i used to use #oh lord #uh #reader insert #joel miller

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dustofthedailylife · 1 year

Text

A Gift For You

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham, Cyno, Heizou x (gn!) Reader

Summary: They plan to give you something for White Day (Info: White Day is the counterpart to Valentine's Day where you usually get the person who got you something, something in return.)

Tags: Fluff, best friends to lovers, pining, mild cursing, very slight angst for Heizou and Cyno at first but also not really, they have good intentions haha!

A/N: This is my White Day gift for @feeblescholarmyass! I hope you like it :3

ALHAITHAM

Two knocks on the door of your office snapped you out of your work-induced haze.

You’ve been working non-stop on this project for the Akademiya for months now and have only been allowing yourself breaks to eat or sleep. Well, to be fair, sleep was negligible too, seeing as you only got around three hours of it per night for a couple of weeks now.

What didn’t help was that you just couldn’t get a hold of a super rare edition of a book that was practically essential for this paper. However, the physical copy was lost to the void of the library as it was never returned. And since the Akasha terminal no longer worked you also couldn’t fall back on that.

“Come in.” you answer, rubbing your eyes quickly in a futile attempt to make yourself look less tired. But deep down you knew there was nothing that could hide the deep purple eye bags you’d been carrying around like a designer accessory the past couple of weeks.

You continued to read through one of the many books on your desk as the door was opened quietly and you heard long strides approach your desk.

“Are you seriously still working on this?” a familiar voice asked reprimandingly.

You looked up into the face of Alhaitham who looked down at you in a less than amused and almost accusatory way. You genuinely didn’t have time for this now, as much as you would rather spend every free minute you had with him instead.

“Well yes, I am. Things have been going slower than I had planned and the deadline is breathing down my neck.” you sighed burying your head into the book you had been skimming through prior. “What did you want?”

“You are going to take a break.” Alhaitham remarks. This wasn’t a plea, he was leaving no room for protest. He snatched the book out of your hand and placed it on a table out of your reach.

“Hey! Alhaitham! You can’t do that. I need to finish this.”

“Yes, I can. And I will.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “When was the last time you ate?”

Well, damn. There was nothing you could hide from him, was there? He always saw right through you. Always had. One of the perks of being friends with a genius, you thought to yourself. And your silence following his question seemed to confirm his suspicions once again.

“Come on. Let’s go to the Tavern, I’ll treat you to lunch.”

You knew there was no point in resisting so you tagged along and unsurprisingly as always, he was right. Getting out of your cramped office and breathing in some fresh air was balm for your soul.

You sat down outside of the Tavern, both ordering a meal and talking about some recent research you both were interested in. Well, it was mostly just you ranting about your project and the sheer stress the lack of one certain book was causing you, but he listened to everything attentively.

You once again came to realize what an incredibly calming effect talking to him had on you. Despite how fast your heart started drumming inside of your chest every single time without fail. You suspected that he likely would never be interested in you beyond the friendly relationship you had with him and you didn’t mean to destroy what you both had by laying your feelings for him bare. So you simply kept them locked within your heart and simply basked in his presence whenever you could.

“Oh, since we’re on the topic. I bought something the other day. This is for you.” Alhaitham suddenly pulled a book out of his bag and slid it across the table. You only had to glance at the cover briefly before you realized what it was and your eyes became as wide as saucers.

“Th-this is… the super rare copy of Ancient Nomad Language and Symbolism! How did you–?”

You were awestruck. You had no idea how he managed to get his hands on a copy. It was as if this book had vanished from the face of the earth. Aside from the fact that you could no longer buy it either or just for an extremely inflated price. How in the world did he get his hands on this?

“Let’s just say, I have my methods.” he replied with a hint of a smug smile painted across his lips.

“How much did you pay for this? I promise I’m going to pay it back–”

“No need.” he shook his head to deny your offer. “Consider it a gift.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me.” you blurt out, almost brought to tears by this act of kindness. With this, your project was saved, and after so long you could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Well, in fact, I do. Considering that you didn’t shut up about this book for the better half of a month now and everyone you spoke to knew how much you wanted it.” he stated factually.

“Hey! No need to get all snarky with me now, when I just want to express my gratitude!” you chuckle and playfully roll your eyes, prompting him to smile smugly in a barely noticeable way once more.

“It was my pleasure. Besides, today is White Day, so it was only logical to get you something.” he remarks and he continued to drink his coffee entirely unbothered as if he didn’t just insinuate the most unbelievable thing you had ever heard. He surely misunderstood something here, right?

“Uhh–” you pause. “You know what this day is for right?”

“Naturally.”

You felt like your heart was about to jump right out of your chest any second. What did he mean naturally?! Was what you deemed impossible actually true and…

“Do you… like me?” you whisper, too scared and unable to speak any louder because it felt like all air had been knocked out of your lungs.

“Looks like you’ve finally caught on as well. I thought you’d never realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I repeatedly asked you out for lunch or dinner? Or why do you think I keep returning your books for you if you’re very capable of doing so yourself? Amongst other things.” he enumerated.

“Well yes, but that’s what friends do.” you retorted confusedly.

“Then let me spell it out for you.”

He put his cup down on the table and leaned forward. He stared deeply into your eyes before ushering three words you’ve always, deep down, longed to hear from his lips.

“I love you.”

CYNO

Three Matra ringing on your door at 10 in the morning was not what you had expected to see today, but here you were nonetheless. They had arrived just as you were about to head to the Akademiya for work but effectually canceled all plans you had made.

“Good morning?” you questioningly asked, raising an eyebrow at them. “Can I help you?”

“We would like to ask you to accompany us back to the Akademiya.”, they plainly stated, signaling you to follow them.

You quickly grabbed your keys and tracked behind them with unease pooling at the pit of your stomach and a violently beating heart.

What could the Matra possibly want from you? Did you conduct some illegal research? Did someone turn you in for plagiarism to save their own skin? Or did it have something to do with academic funds? As far as you were aware, the answers to all of these questions were no.

You didn't commit any serious academic offense to your knowledge and never planned to do so in the first place. But being called in by the Matra always had something to do with that, so naturally, you had a very bad feeling about this and couldn’t help but desperately try to find the answer to it in your head before you’d arrive.

You knew your best and long-time friend Cyno, was the General Mahamatra but even he wouldn’t show mercy if you seriously screwed something up. You knew he didn’t take academic offenses lightly - it didn’t matter who it was who committed them. He dealt out punishment equally.

The way to the office seemed like it was taking forever and many people along the way to the Akademiya threw you pitiful glances and were whispering as you were escorted by the Matra.

Once you arrived at your destination you were led into the General Mahamatra’s office. The Matra who had escorted you were bowing their head down once before they left you and Cyno, who was standing behind his desk, alone.

“There you are!” he stated, sounding surprisingly cheerful. Well, at least compared to usual anyway. He certainly didn’t seem sinister or as if he was out for your head.

He walked around his desk and came to a halt just in front of you. You slightly twitched as he put one hand on your shoulder and looked right into your eyes. This entire situation was odd, to say the least.

What didn’t help was that the warmth that radiated off his hand on your shoulder was entirely distracting to you right now and made the blood rush to your cheeks and your heart skitter in your chest.

“U-uhhh…” you stammered, unsure what to say or do.

“Do you still remember the special animated Genius Invokation card of Tighnari you got me last month?”

What? Was something wrong with it?

“Uhm… yes, of course, I do.” you reply, uncertain as to where this was leading.

He nodded as his lips curved into a small smile. “Follow me.”

You trailed behind him out of the Akademiya and along the streets towards the outskirts of Sumeru city. You remained silent the entire way, intimidated and unsure about his intentions. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was taking you and whether he was intending to exercise his judgment where no one was able to bear witness to it.

He came to a halt next to a small, run-down house at the border of the city and leaned against the fence there, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing below himself. You cautiously came to a halt as well, making sure you maintained some distance from him.

“So… w-what did I do?” you carefully inquired.

“Well,” Cyno cleared his throat as if he was struggling to find the right words. He stepped a little closer to you once again, taking your slightly trembling hands in his. “You stole something.”

“What? I did n–”

“You stole my heart.” he interrupted both your words and ability to form clear thoughts.

You parted your lips with the intention to say something but every word seemed to have died in your throat. You knew he was one to often speak cryptically so you were uncertain about the true meaning behind his words.

“What?”

He took a deep breath as if he was preparing to say something impacting before pointing toward the fence he had been leaning on with a dead-serious face.

“I fence-y you!”

At this point, you couldn’t help but chuckle. The hilarity of this entire situation was unbelievable. Not only did he have you worried sick he also chose to confess to you after years of pining with some stupid pun.

“Did you seriously lead me here just because there is a fence here?”

“Curses. I feared you would not understand… see fence-y sounds like fancy which means I–”

You quickly pulled him in by his neck and pressed your lips softly against his, successfully stopping him from explaining his joke. The feeling of his lips on yours was something you had dreamed of for so long. When he slung his arms around your waist the endorphins rushing through your bloodstream made your head swim and you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. You wondered if he felt the same.

“That was supposed to be my gift to you,” he remarked with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours. “but you beat me to it.”

You playfully punched his chest with a chuckle. “Idiot. You have no idea how much you had me scared to death with this entire scheme of yours. I fence-y you, too”

“Allow me to make it up to you again. Do you like raisins?”

You questioningly raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to this time.

“No? How about a date, then?”

Someone seriously needed to remind you again why you fell for this guy.

HEIZOU

You were walking through the streets of Hanamizaka to run some errands when you bumped into your long-time friend aka. the best detective in town. Or maybe even in the entirety of Inazuma.

“Would you look who it is!” you perceived the familiar voice coming from your right.

You turned your head only to spot the familiar tuft of auburn locks and the pair of mischievous green eyes that always made their owner look like he was up to no good.

“Heizou!” you cheered, hugging him tightly.

“It’s a good thing I run into you actually. I’m onto something and you’re just the person who could help me out.” he remarked.

“Oh, is that so?” you asked stemming your hands on your hips proudly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Indeed.”

“So, what do you need from me, Mr. Detective?” you tease.

“Alright. So, as you may or may not know it’s White Day. I’m looking for a present for someone since I’m going on a date, and I want to get something for them.” he explained.

You had to try your hardest to not drop your smile. It almost faltered just now, but you couldn’t let your disappointment show. He didn’t know you had feelings for him, so to him, you were still nothing more than his best friend. Obviously, he would come to you with something like this. It’s also on you for not telling him about your feelings for him, too.

As much as your heart ached while thinking about it, you simply had to try to be a supportive friend in this situation. Even if it would most likely prove to be a challenge. Both for your heart and also to hide your dislike about this from him, since he was generally very perceptive. It was in the job description after all and he was one of the best in his field.

“So what do you say?” he interrupted your train of thought. “Will you help me?”

“Sure!” you agree, faking a smile.

You followed him through the streets of Inazuma City walking past several restaurants and storefronts continually catching yourself getting lost in your own thoughts while he was talking.

Your mind was way too occupied with reproaching yourself for not opening up about your feelings. Would you still be able to look him in the eyes when you soon saw him with someone else by his side? Or would you be strong enough to still be as close to him as you are now, despite your aching heart? These were questions the future you would have to eventually find answers to, but for now, you decided you should focus on helping him.

“Which restaurant would be a good option for a dinner date?” he pondered tapping his chin with his index finger.

“Well, I do like Uyuu Restaurant just across the bridge from here. But then again, it tends to be rather crowded on holidays. So maybe Kiminami Restaurant instead? And quite honestly, the food is also better there in my opinion.” you advised.

“I see. Great!” Heizou cheered writing some things down in his notebook.

“So…” he began again after he was done taking notes. “Now for the present. I have no clue what to get them, yet.”

“Well, what a lousy detective you are if you can’t even sneakily ask them about what they would want.” you teased.

He raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, acting playfully offended at your remark.

“Hey now! No need to get personal! Besides, that would only be the last resort! Anyway, hypothetically speaking. Imagine I’d get you something for White Day. What present would you want?”

For Archon’s sake, did he really have to have you imagine that? Getting a present from him on White Day would be a dream come true so he could practically get you anything and you would be head over heels for him all over again. But naturally, you couldn’t just outright say that.

“I don’t think this should be about what I would want. You should consider what they could want instead.”

“Hmm. I see your point. I could just ask them directly, I suppose?” he proposed tapping his chin as if deep in thought.

“No numbnuts! That’s not something you just ask them. It’s supposed to be a surprise, you know?”

“But then it may be even more important if you could give me an idea knowing what you would want. To gather some… inspiration, basically. I have to consider all possibilities after all.” he lightly bumped his finger on your forehead and smirked slyly. “So what would you want… jewelry? books? something to decorate your home with perhaps? Or maybe–”

“I fear I may not be of much help. I genuinely wouldn’t know what I would want.” you quickly interrupted.

Aside from wishing to be the object of affection of the man in front of you. But it was probably better if you buried that hope alongside your feelings for him once and for all.

What you were dying to say to him for a long time, had died in your throat the moment he told you he was going on a date. And as much as you honestly wanted to help him with this, you couldn’t recommend him something in good faith when it made your heart painfully throb the way it did right now.

“Hmmm.” he pondered looking at the ground with crossed arms. “That’s a shame, I’d immediately know what I’d want.”

“Oh? And what would that be, Detective?” you replied cheekily, quickly trying to distract yourself from the aching feeling in your chest.

“You.”

“What?” you falter.

“Do you happen to be free later?”

“Y-you–?”, you stammered.

“I set you up? Hmm, I suppose you could say I did. Sorry about that, but I had to find something out first.” he hummed, leaning in a little closer with a smug smile before whispering in your ear. “And I’m pretty sure I connected all the dots by now, did I not, sweetheart?”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #giwhiteday2023 #genshin fanfic #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #heizou x reader #genshin x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x gn reader #genshin x female reader #🍁 dust writes

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essentiallyleaf · 7 months

Text

day 03. wall sex. with. winter.

1113 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, dom(?) reader, sub girlfriend winter, making out, daddy kink, wall sex, lift and carry, standing doggy, semi-public sex, a smidge of size kink, barely edited, actually about as long as i expected this time.

notes.

honestly, not that much to say. oh right, i don’t actually know if a wall sex kink/fetish actually exists, which is perhaps not a minor concern for a kinktober piece. so if it really does, let me know, and if it doesn't, help me make it a thing and specifically winto’s thing. solidly, leaf.

You step between her legs, hanging slightly parted off the counter as she sits on it. She’s still staring at the window to her left, so you caress her cheek and redirect her chin towards you, trying to fish something out of the sea blue colored contacts Winter wears on her eyes. You love that color on her. You kiss her lips softly, they’re slightly wet. Your mouths detach as you bring a second hand between her jaw and her neck.

The only thing that comes off your hook is lust.

So you kiss your girlfriend again, this time longer and deeper; you feel her tongue brush your lips, so you retaliate with yours. It starts as a little game, taking turns exploring each other’s mouths, but the longer it goes, the longer you feel her trying to take more space past your entrance, so you let her in.

That’s how it is with her: she only needs to ask. “Can we go to the animal shelter tomorrow?”; “Can I read manga with you while we’re on the train?”; “Can you get me that cute black one piece over there?” (That’s when you bought her the dress she’s wearing right now. And it’s not cute. On her, combined with that messy bun and those fishnets, it looks fucking filthy). Then, the magic word. They always taught you it was “Please”, but really, it’s what comes after: “Daddy?”

That’s why when she grabs the collar of your leather jacket to pull you towards her, when she wraps her arms and legs around you like she needs you, like she’s a koala that needs to make sure it won’t fall from its tree while sleeping, you give in. Because there’s no one else that can grant Winter’s wishes like you do, just like there’s no one else that needs you as much as Winter does.

Which takes on an extremely carnal meaning as you lift her from the counter and turn around, your hands on her ass and your forearms supporting her thighs. She’s so tiny and light, you don’t need all that support, but you want to feel her every inch of her body on yours.

You wander through a couple rooms, looking for a bedroom in the enormous maze-like mansion. Given the handicap of having Winter kiss you the whole way through and of barely being able to keep your eyes open because of that, it’s a miracle that you don’t slam into a doorframe or trip on a carpet in the process. Then, her impatience takes over.

“Let’s do it here”

You look around the room, puzzled. It looks like some kind of library, though at least one third of the shelves of the old-fashioned white carved bookcases is almost empty. “Where?”

Your girlfriend stretches her arm towards the wall behind her, palming it as if trying to get a grasp of its texture.

“Isn’t this good enough,” she knows she can’t get it so easily, but she also knows the most direct shortcut, “Daddy?”

She doesn’t need an answer. She needs you to slam her into the wall, pull her little slutty black one piece up to her waist and her thin, almost see through black panties to the side, rip those fishnets apart and fuck her. As you find out, she also doesn’t need any foreplay, her slit and crotch already wet just from the prolonged make-out session, which finally comes to end as you switch from her mouth to the junction of her neck and shoulder.

You kiss, lick, and suck the same spot over and over for several minutes as you pump into her with feral instinct, her hand now gripping your hair tightly; she even pulls on it a little - it hurts, but that’s not your biggest priority right now. You need to mark Winter as yours, she’s your girlfriend, your (this exact moment, a little less) soft, sweet fluffball, she’s your tiny fuckdoll. And as such you shall use her.

Thrust upwards into her like that’s what she was built for, like there’s nothing stopping you. Meanwhile, the only thing stopping her is the wall behind her, which feels cold on her nape and asscheeks, stark contrast with her boiling hot clavicle and pussy.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy”

It’s not a request this time. It’s a factual statement. She orgasms silently, so overwhelmed by the bursts of pleasure flowing from her pussy to her brain to what feels like every inch of her body, that she simply goes limp. Fortunately, you and the wall are there to hold her.

It takes her a good couple minutes to even be able to feel the world around her, past the overpowering signals coming from her own body. That’s enough for you to ask her:

“Now, I’m gonna need you to hold onto that wall, just for a little bit longer, okay? Can you do that for Daddy?”

You wouldn’t be able to tell from her still dazed face, but as she lowers her legs and tries her very best to stand up, you know Winter understood perfectly, and this is her “Yes, daddy”.

She looks so precious as you hold her hips up and help her turn around, her palms on the wall, fingers tensing like she’s trying to find something to grip onto. So precious that you just wrap your arms all around her waist as you split her tight slit open for a second time and start shoving yourself in and out of her repeatedly.

You know you can’t last long, so you try to get your girlfriend to a second high, though you don’t know if she can even feel much given her state. You turn her head to the side to kiss her again and you reach towards one of her little boobs and start groping her, first through, then inside her daddy’s girl dress.

It’s when your other hand presses upon her clit that she completely loses it. She lets out a sequence of animalistic guttural moans you never heard from her, and watery liquid starts gushing on your cock and out of her pussy while her walls clench rhythmically. The combined pressure of the two triggers your own orgasm, as you deposit buckets of white honey into her womb until she can’t take any more and semen drips out of her pussy and onto the floor.

You hold Winter tightly, almost squeezing her against the wall as her knees threaten to give up completely; you kiss her temple repeatedly as she pants heavily.

“How are we gonna go back downstairs for the party?”

“You can carry me for a while! Please, daddy?”

footnotes.

wow i think i actually wrote different characters this time. this one was a little crammed, but i’m pretty satisfied with the end result. it feels like i’m slowly finding out which things i like writing more and which less and more generally about my identity as a writer. i’m still a sprout, but i think i’m learning a lot. sorry if i bored you and you’re now asleep and somehow still reading. do let me know how to do that! dreamily, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #aespa #winter #kim minjeong #aespa smut #winter smut #kim minjeong smut #aespa winter smut

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fillinforlater · 7 months

Text

Two Selfies and a GIF

Male Reader x Naoi Rei

Length: 2341 words

Tags: lovers on vacation, teasing and tempting, public sex, blowjob, overstimulation, face fuck, gagging, standing sex, anal, sweat, body appreciation, anal creampie, thrill of maybe getting caught

TW: sex in a public space, also barely any editing

Inspiration: an ask from quite some time ago

(A/N: I hope this fic makes you say Holy Moly. @writerpeach because he wanted another Rei piece lol)

“Another sunny day! <3 Hope to see you all soon~”

You jump from your bed. Most of the time, you have no clue where the feeling of deja vu comes from, but this one is still palpable. A year ago, you were on vacation with Rei on some warm, small island nation, blessed with endless sunshine and she sent a similar selfie with a similar caption. Her hair was still brown back then, if your memory serves you right.

Unlike last time however, you can’t dig straight into her cute pussy. Rei is not on the bed beside you, although that’s where she took the picture. In fact, she’s not even in the hotel room anymore. You check the washroom a final time before looking back down on your phone.

“Where are you?”

“By~ the~ pool~”

The phone has yet to disappear in the pockets of your shorts when you’ve already stormed out of the empty hotel room and towards the elevators. Alright, she said something about going to the pool, you remember, but you didn’t even notice that she took the selfie earlier. Hopefully this won’t end in a chase of never ending teases because you missed the moment she was horny and right next to you.

You jump out of the elevator and across the lobby, both staff and visitors confused by your hurried, hectic behavior given the calm, vacation atmosphere. Your urgent need to feel your girlfriend's body, to see that face, adorned by beautiful blonde hair, with thick lips and a lewd glint in her eyes, it’s easily overtaking your desire of being perceived as normal.

“By the pool isn’t accurate enough,” you puff and pant while your eyes go over the many, many pools and parasols and people. It seems Rei isn’t in the water or on one of the loungers, so you once again reach for your phone—just to be greeted by a couple of private messages.

“Still need you to fill these cheeks~ or did you mean my other cheeks?!”

The wink, the tongue bite, the v-pose. She can never post this picture or else all those horny fanboys would blow infinite loads to it (not like they aren’t already doing it; don’t kid yourself). It’s sexy, tempting, only meant for you. You know what she wants, what she needs, what you promised her, yet she continues to play with you.

Until suddenly, another message. A third selfie? Even better.

“I hope you remember where this is~”

The changing booths by the pool. The unmistakable brown walls and baby blue curtains. Rei has complained about their design choice on the day of your arrival, now she’s there doing tik-tok-instagram-dance-challenge-thingys, flaunting what you’ve been craving. Needless to say you sprint there as fast as possible, disregarding all the warning signs about slipper tiles or blissfully ignorant tourists.

You’re on your way to bliss, and nothing will stop you.

Rei sticks out among the few people in the area. Her tall figure, her blonde hair, not a second later and you get a hold on her shoulders and drag her into the next booth. The Japanese girl doesn’t even seem fazed.

“There you are,” she sultrily says, eyes on yours through the mirror wall. Good heavens, you forgot about that thing. It’s going to be so much fun. With a single swoop you close the curtain and take a closer look at Rei’s fuckable body through the mirror.

“You look to good not to fuck,” you groan and pinch her cheeks, looking at her duckface, mesmerized by how plump her lips are, how good they will feel. Rei winks again and your hand is already past the waistband of your shorts. “Get on your knees, now.”

Rei’s smile is horny when she pulls down your shorts while getting on eye level with your cock, which jumps free and barely, sadly misses her face with the removal of your briefs. Rei spits in her hand and pumps you, focused on every inch of your hot rod. Suddenly, before any annoyance can urge you to do it yourself, she puts you on her lips. A heavy push that sends you back against the wall later, you're inside her and have to bite a lip to not groan out every profanity known to mankind.

Feel her tongue swirl around your cockhead while an expression of determination forms on her face. You can see that she is already planning ahead on how to make this the best head she’s ever given you. Rei has an amazing bitch face, but it also fills you with thread. You have to surrender to her mouth, her lips, her tongue—now her hands that grab your hips and then—

“Oh, fuck, ouh fuck!”

Rei slams her head back and forth, your cock going in and out almost fully with every single repetition, while she gags and slobbers on every centimeter she forces into herself. A bizarre thing, face fucking herself on you, for your pleasure, yet you are about to wince for mercy. Rei’s mouth is perfect, but it’s all too fast, without warning she grinds the top, then the back of her tongue on your sensitive slit. You leak, you hiss, you struggle to stand or think.

“Re-Rei, t-too much, fuck.”

Rei pops you free from her lips, but they look eager to go back to it and apply even more pressure on your cock. She firmly holds the base of your dick and glares at you.

“Then do it yourself, pussy. Fill my cheeks already.”

It’s like she’s given you the controller to a video game back; though this is vastly superior than anything you have ever played. You pull at her hair, force her to cry out before flailing backwards against the opposite wall of the booth. This time you lay your cock on her lips on your own merit.

“I’ll make you take that back.”

Pry her slutty mouth open, hope she is ready for impact and make her entire body convulse when you slam your pelvis into her face. The feeling of her tight, gagging throat is a lot different when you're in control, not better, not worse, though you like that Rei can take your roughness so well.

You close your eyes and begin to thrust, rarely giving her time to breathe, never giving yourself time to rest. The generously wet expedition into Rei's throat both feels like finding something new and being at home. A familiar warm feeling and alien sounds, your girlfriend's deepthroats are one of a kind.

Rei is opportunistic, her tongue now out of her mouth, receiving hits by your balls as you continue to fuck her face. It's one of those days apparently, when she is for some damn reason completely enamored with your sac. Maybe she likes the hisses that escape your lips because of the extra stimulation, maybe she is just impatient and wants what's inside of them.

When her already generously big and round cheeks are the biggest and roundest, you finally pull out and let her cough out the pool of saliva, two smaller pools underneath her eyes are also letting loose. You smack her purple-blue lips with your stiff length.

"I thought you could take it," you laugh at a set of coughs by Rei.

"I, hng, thought you'd fill my cheeks.

"Loser."

"Okay, get up."

Cheeky grin on her lips, Rei pushes herself off the ground and you push up something of your own, her tight crop top. You struggle to get the white fabric over her bountiful tits, but she is quick to help you by stretching out her arms high in the air. After a couple of tugs, you see the two massive melons bounce freely—or not. Two laughably tiny patches of silk, connected to each other and Rei’s neck form a bikini that is definitely too sexy for this pool, for any pool.

“You really wanted to go out there wearing this?” you question, a finger already hooked in one of the patches.

“No, that’s why I’m still here~”

“Then it’s confiscated.”

A single pull and the bikini top falls off as if spider webs held it together. Now they are free, Rei’s magnificent melons, round like her cheeks, soft like her thighs, the nipples stiff like you. Before you give them a squeeze however, you surprise your girlfriend by roughly yanking up her skirt to above her hips. Rei yelps and loses her balance, but one of her hands finds safety on the mirror, mirror on the wall.

“Very unlike you to not go straight for my chest,” Rei teases, her voice still stable though her stand becomes a lot less stable when you get behind her and plant her firmly in front of the mirror. Now she needs both hands to not fall over with how you manhandle her light yet astoundingly thick frame.

“They will get enough appreciation later.” Put emphasis on these words by nibbling her ear. She trembles in excitement.”I want to hear you say it again.”

“Say what again?” Rei once more teases, as you hook a finger into the flimsy excuse of a thong she’d call a stylish bikini, ready to reveal both her aroused entrances. “Oh, that.

“I need you to fill my ass cheeks with your sticky load, pretty please.”

So fake, so lewd, yet so incomparably preposterous. The moment her bikini bottom falls down her long legs, Rei presses her bottom against your cock and it takes barely any effort for you to get it inside her. Talking about bottom, you're close to bottoming out, but Rei’s cute yet also growling cry has you scrambling to find something to gag her. You’re still in public, she can’t be that loud. All you find is the pathetic bikini, which you shove into her pretty little mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you good, but keep it down,” you groan into her ear and give in to the risky, yet irresistible desire to plow her ass. Rei is trying her best, munching and soaking the green in her mouth rather than screaming out your name. You’ll buy her a new, better bikini after this anyways. If she’d ran around in that thing for more than a minute, then you’d need to fuck her the rest of your vacation and that would be—wait, would you even mind that?

You’d do it like this all day long, her wrists in your grasp, her body slightly tilted towards the mirror while you watch her tits bounce with every thrust into her tight back entrance. Rei is at your mercy, only upright because you want to. Each inch you pull out has her scrambling for footing, but you gladly give them back to her, into her, to the point where exactly this has her knees buckling.

“Fuck you’re so… suffocating,” you mumble, the heat from your crotch spread up to your head long ago. The same goes for Rei: a hand on her freely jumping tits confirms it. Her eyes roll into the back of her head when you roll a nipple in between two lazy fingers. It’s not much, but you swear it made her even tighter and less stable.

You lift a leg of hers, feel the sweaty meat of her full thigh make your hand sink deep. It reminds you of a pillow, a comfortable bed—now a waterbed because her orgasm is wet. Rei surrenders her beautiful back onto your chest, eyes closed, mouth ready to voice her pleasure but she has to keep it shut. Outside are people, laughing, gossiping, going about their lives. And in here, you recklessly pound in the still sensitive Rei.

It’s incredible how she still relaxes around you, how easy it is to fill her with a girthy cock. Honest to God, it has you tripping, forward, against the cold mirror. Rei spits out her bikini-gag when her hard nubs touch the reflective surface. You’d stop her ensuing moans from escaping her mouth, but you have to hold onto her thigh and breast. There are just not enough hands to touch every perfect part of her body—and her lips are definitely on that list.

Your orgasm is nigh, hence why you thrust frantically, the claps of a nye pelvis on nye ass now also louder than any background noise if someone is close enough. You can already hear the murmurs from behind the curtains. Someone whispers about hearing weird sounds—you have to bust before you get busted.

Rei’s fishnet-covered foot crawls up a wall. Fucking is now easier, so you put in the final gear and reach for her hips to to smash her back into you. Everything is too loud, too lewd; Rei’s expression, your expression, your combined groans, all the sweaty and love juice trailing down your legs—

The connection of your cock in her ass as if explodes on the final thrust you can muster up. Rei’s anal cavity is stretched and now stuffed to the fullest to the point where pulling out will cause a mess of cataclysmic proportions. You have to stay inside her for longer, plug up the cum filled hole as it sluttily clenches around your sensitive cock.

“Fuck, that was perfect,” Rei groans, her body limp between you and the mirror. You look at her and smile for a second. That round face, adorable, makes for great selfies and family pictures. Mere moments ago, it was drooling and moaning uncontrollably. The duality of Rei.

“Yeah, but how the fuck do we clean this up?” you ask, hands mindlessly on your girlfriend's chest.

“I don’t know, I haven't planned for this scenario. I thought you’d fuck my face and I could swallow it all and then you could fill my ass in the hotel room.”

“Well, we can still do that, but we now need to get out of here.” You try to think for a second before your eyes fall on the fallen bikini thong on the floor. You stop massaging Rei’s breasts and instead reach for her pussy, wet and flushed. “By the way, what was your goal with that ‘bikini’?”

“O-oh, you really don’t like it?”

“It’s just that I wouldn’t be able to help myself but fuck you if you wore that. It’s way too revealing. I don’t want anyone seeing the pussy I fuck and the ass I fill and the tits I fondle—”

“So you want no one seeing me?” Rei moans softly when you rub her clit.

“Yes, cause I love you so fucking much, Rei.”

“Ts, looooser~”

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #ive smut #rei smut #naoi rei smut

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kquil · 11 months

Text

JAMES POTTER | KISS CAM PART 2

SUM. : even though yours and james's relationship is public, his jealous streak continues

G. : fluff ; modern au ; ice hockey player james ; girlfriend reader ; viral sports couple ; fans love you together ; protective james ; jealous james ; you're his ; he's yours ; everyone should know this by now ; heated kiss

LENGTH : 1.9k

PART 1

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

Now that your relationship with James was made public, he’s been more open to showing how much he adores you on the rink. You never miss any of his games and he makes a point of visiting your side of the rink during opening warm ups for a kiss through the glass. It’s the same one you gave him when your relationship first became public, where you kiss your fingers and press them against the glass where his lips are directly behind. Being the goof ball he is, James makes a show of puckering his lips and making a kiss sound every single time and, although you feel incredibly embarrassed by it, you just fall even harder for him each time. Your rising fans and shippers are very much the same over your relationship, so supportive and ‘oooo’-ing and ‘ahhh’-ing behind you from every interaction.

During every intermission as well, James would come over to interact with you through the glass, whether to draw a heart on the divider or just wanting to get your attention with his puppy-love eyes. And all exchanges always end the same way, by James getting pulled away from the back of his collar by his teammates.

It’s pretty obvious how in love the two of you were with each other and you’ve become a viral sports couple in the media. The fans adore your dynamic, dubbing James the cheeky loverboy and you the shy sweetheart, which were pretty accurate titles. Their support and love for your relationship made you wonder why you both were so worried about becoming public in the first place, granted there were a few bad eggs here and there but the majority accepted your relationship and you couldn’t be happier. However, you do wonder whether the reason why your relationship became public added to that positive reception or not.

The moment James came over and claimed you as ‘his girl’, it went viral on social media. Many people reported on the incident, made multiple edits of it and some even scoured through videos of past games James played in to try and spot you in the crowd, just to speculate on how long you’ve been together. With all of that, the two of you quickly overtook some of the current famous celebrity couples in popularity. It was quite a romantic way of announcing your relationship, especially when James had the reputation of being the playful goofball of the team through interviews and such; seeing him get aggressive outside of the sport was surprising.

It didn’t help that, on one of your spontaneous dates with James was clipped by Sirius and sent circulating everywhere online.

James had asked for access to the rink so he could practice some moves in his free time and you tagged along with lunch whilst Sirius and Remus came for company and fun. Soon enough, it turned into you and James just having fun on the ice. You’re a clumsy, first-born fawn on skates but James was always there to steady you with his sturdy frame and strong arms so you had more fun skating than you typically would on your own. The two of you were giggling and joking about, just being the sweet couple that were and being so incredibly cute that Sirius couldn’t find it in himself to tease you two about it. Instead, Sirius merely captured the moment James lifted you in his arms - the typical princess cary - and took you for a lap around the ice on video and posted it on his instagram story. There was no audio to overshadow the laughter you and James shared before you cupped his cheek and kissed him deeply. The lighting, the moment and the chemistry between you two couldn’t be denied and you went viral again. It was a lot of attention, mostly good but some bad too.

Trust Sirius to give the fans what they want, seeing as how you and James still try to stay private about your relationship on social media. It wasn’t too much of an issue though since he always asked before posting anything, this particular post though, was the only exception.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t be happier because, now, you can freely support your hard working boyfriend without having to hide under baggy hoodies. Sometimes you dressed up in a cute dress, sometimes you dressed down into one of James’s spare jerseys, proudly showcasing his name and number. It’s a secret but he loves it most when you wear his jersey. It’s also a secret that you wear his jersey whenever you want him to take you home early with no plans of leaving the bed for the night and most of the following morning. He treats you so well.

In this particular game, you had made something special for James to wish him more luck and comfort. It wasn’t much but you wanted him to have something that’ll remind him you were always close by. You also wanted to give him a real good luck kiss before the pre-game warm ups started. James had expressed to you the night before that his nerves were more sensitive than usual because the team they were up against were quite formidable. He knew it, his team knew it and the fans knew it so the seats were packed for the game tonight - it was nerve-wracking. Tonight would be the perfect time to give him the gift.

On the way to the locker rooms behind the rink, you were a little unsure of which changing room James was in because you wanted this to be a surprise and didn’t ask for any further information.

“Oh, hello there,” A man with a black and yellow jersey greets you as he walks out the locker room door you were contemplating knocking on or not, previously unsure of which team was in which but immediately went warm in the cheeks upon realising the mix up, “how did you get down here, pretty lady?” he flirts, making your breath stutter. It didn’t feel right for any other guy to address you so endearingly if they weren’t your James.

“I’m so sorry,” you quickly regain yourself and clutch your small present in your hand, “I mistook which locker room to go to,”

“No worries,” he leans down in an effort to level with your height and meet your eyes more directly, “but I am a little disappointed that you aren’t here to see m-” he’s cut off when you catch a glimpse of James over his shoulder and run the distance to his figure outside the locker room further down the hall.

“James!” you run into his arms with a grin, completely forgetting the man you had just encountered, who was now in a silent death-stare exchange with your boyfriend. Running up to him, you miss James muttering something under his breath, eyeing the figure past your own.

“Number five…”

“Look James, I made this for you,” you present the gift, “for good luck,” the excitement in your voice gradually fades with the influence of your bashfulness.

James kept the opposing player, who had not left yet, in his peripheral as he turned his attention to the soft face towel you were offering him. His heart swells when, in the corner, he spots neat stitches of yours and his initials surrounded by cutely embroidered hearts. You’re really so cute, he can’t fathom how he ever got so lucky. His heart softens further when he takes in your timid but adorable form, looking up at him with curious eyes, gauging his reaction.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” James says, his voice purring more than usual. He has full confidence that despite the opposing player displaying clear interest in you, never leaving and still eyeing up your form, James knows that you will always be his and him, you. Your focused eyes solely trained on him, your sweet smile only for him to see and your cute way of dressing only for him to undress later, it’s all for him and it’s all he needs to know that you are his forever, “I love it,”

“Reall-” he cuts off your excitement by pressing his lips against yours, throwing your gift to rest on his shoulder so he can have both his hands free to trace your silhouette down to your cute butt and give a possessive squeeze. Like clockwork, you squeal into his lips and give perfect access for his tongue to ravish yours. It’s a very heated and possessive display. James wants everyone who sees you two to know that he’s the only one who can have you like this and you’re the only one who can make him like this.

Lost in each other, time quickly passes and when you two eventually pull away, the other player is gone. Good riddance, James scoffs in his head, his telling smirk giving away his thoughts. You could see it all. Being his girlfriend, you knew exactly why James behaved like that but you weren’t complaining; you got one hell of a kiss out of it and there was no violence, nobody was hurt. What he needed was for you to anchor him. And you did, by gently taking your gifted face towel off his shoulder and pressing it to the perimeter of his face.

No words needed to be spoken, James could see it all in your eyes. You knew him too well to let his actions slip past like that, however, knowing that your response was only to reassure him with a tender touch and loving actions rather than berate him, his love for you grew even more. He loves you so much. Soft and with a comforting ache in his chest, James hugs you and lifts you off the floor. He tucks his face into your neck and whispers his apology into your skin.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asks, face still nuzzling your neck as you bury your own into his unruly, dark curls.

“You didn’t hurt me, Jamie…”

“Good…I’m sorry for being so forceful and…possessive,” still in his arms and with your feet off the floor, he gives you a small squeeze.

“...I love you,” was your only reply; your own way of forgiving him.

“God…” James sighs dreamily, pulling back to and press a tender kiss onto your lips, “I love you more,”

You giggle and kiss him again, “I love you most,”

“Impossible,”

When the game finally started that night and you had properly kissed your boyfriend ‘good luck’, James became a prominent instigator on the ice. His plays were more violent and aggressive, especially to a particular player wearing the number five. It was pretty bad and you were getting worried, not just for James but for the other team’s number five.

Half time comes and James is seen getting a visible talk down from the coach, there was tension in the air but the excitement for the game still too precedence, shaking the air with an infectious vibration. Before the game starts its second half, James makes a quick visit to your front seat for his usual kiss past the glass. This time, however, he wasn’t being a goofball and worried you but his tense figure visibly relaxed after the pseudo kiss, much to your relief. The second half of the game, he wasn’t as violent but became the top scorer, earning point after point after point.

Suffice to say, James’s team was the clear winner and you had much to celebrate his victory on the ice in the bedroom.

NAVI.

A/N : this was one of my unexpectedly really popular timestamps, thank you all for the support! hopefully you darlings like this addition just as much as the first. i've taken the liberty of adding additional tags who expressed their interest in the first timestamp if you lovelies don't mind

TAGLIST : @fredweasleysjumper @ghostgardn @melinajenkins @astonishment; @until-i-found-you @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @tiensmamains @celestcies @loveltdoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @diputy @taytaylala12 @its-sappho-biotch @hiya-itsamber @arctvrvs @lilmaymayy @callisto00 @crying-on-the-floor @yrluvjane @neeezza101

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n

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immajustvibehere · 4 months

Text

Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow. I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter: here

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption community #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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97keanu · 10 months

Text

Dave Lizewski x goth!Reader

Premise: Dave sits next to you in History, he's been secretly pining for you for ages, but he's been too scared to ask you out since you're so pretty and your goth exterior is very intimidating for him. To his surprise, he and you are paired up to finish a history assignment this weekend. Truth is, you thought he was cute too...

Tags: 18+ characters/pining!Dave/extremely nerdy and loser!Dave/hard exterior soft interior!reader/reader who despite having a crush on Dave does NOT want to admit it(tsundere!reader)/Mutual pining/mini slow burn into eventual smut/virgin!dave/submissive!Dave + switch!Dave who ends up taking control/reader on top/oral(both parties)/face sitting/edging/no condom/raw/doggy/cuddling/aftercare

A/N: Finalized version 7/8/23, fully edited. I am glad so many of you liked this and I am hoping to return to this couple in the future!

Taglist: @lazyneonrabbitt

(Ask to be tagged in upcoming one offs of Dave if you'd like!)

Imagines of these two: here and here

Jennifer's Body AU reader x Dave here

UPDATE!!! Read the direct sequel here

It's a normal Friday afternoon and Dave sits, staring out the window and daydreaming about this or that for his last class of the day. Class hasn't started yet, and what pulls Dave out of his daydream is you. You with your all black clothes, black lipstick and dark style. You walk into class as if its nothing, and every time you do Dave feels butterflies fill his stomach. He still can't believe how lucky he was to get sat next to you, even if he's way too intimidated to say anything to you.

You sit down next to him and you keep your face neutral. You know how mean this highschool has been about your style, so these days you hardly give them anything. And after you broke some jocks finger for trying to touch you in the 10th grade, people leave you alone for the most part. To your face at least. You know they probably snicker when you're not looking, but at the very least you can go on autopilot through out the day and go home to where you can really be yourself.

Dave has no idea about this, he thinks you're just the most confident chick in school, and he is in no way in your league, at all. It doesn't stop him from day dreaming about it though. He goes home and thinks about you at night, thinks about what it would feel like to actually ask you out. He's practiced saying it in the mirror a few times even, but when you sit next to him in class it's like he can't even make his voice say "Hello" let alone "Can I take you to the movies this Friday?". What kind of movies would you even like? God, its hopeless. He's doomed to sit next to you pining until senior years up and he never sees you again.

Today you sit next to him as always, headphones blaring The Cure while you ignore the world. You do steal a glance towards the guy who sits next to you in History, and quickly glance away, your dark lashes fluttering. You try not to interact with him because you know if you do, it's going to be obvious you like him. You can't help it, something about the way he's obviously so flustered by you, his big blue eyes gazing at you behind those nerdy glasses, it does something to you. Something the other students would notice and probably pick on the both of you for. Imagine it, the social outcast goth girl and the loser nerdy boy? No way, it's something you're not willing to risk after being bullied from your last school. No, its better to not think about it. Keep your headphones in and look forward, pretend you see nothing.

Your history teacher begins class, so you put away your headphones and get ready to start class. As you put them in your bag, you catch Dave's eyes. He looks like he almost wants to say something to you, and you furrow your thin and arched brows, giving off a "why are you talking to me" energy without even trying to really. It's almost second nature at this point for you, and when you see his cheeks heat up, you feel your heart jump, a mixture of feeling bad for how you come off and a hope for what he might have wanted to say. His hand nervously slides his glasses back up, his big blue eyes blinking away in embarrassment, the words unsaid falling flat in the air and your history teacher gaining the attention of the class.

You turn from Dave, obviously conflicted about what transpired, even if it was brief. It was one of the few times you two interact, but somehow when you sit next to him for this hour long class, it's as if you are interacting. You can almost feel the space between you two, and the times when his foot or your leg gets too close, bumps, barely touches, it's almost electric. It truly makes it hard to focus on class at times, but for the most part if you really fixate on what the teacher is saying, you can get by. From the looks Dave gives you at the end of class usually, he didn't hold up as well for the most part.

"This seating arrangement really was a mistake..." You muse silently to yourself inside your head, a small sigh escaping your lips.

Your teacher begins describing the next history assignment for the weekend, it's supposed to be something about fake "interviewing" someone from the history lessons from so far, or something, you're catching about half of it, but you know they pass out a more detailed paper later.

Meanwhile, Dave is beating himself up for, once again, not being able to ask you out tonight.

"C'mon man, you should have just said it!" He curses himself mentally. "Worst she could say is no right? God...with her, she might actually bite my head off..."

He's practically sweating next to you, his hand nervously tapping the table between you two lightly. Your hand, inches away is trying to take notes on what the assignment is supposed to have because you absorb it better when you actually write it out. As well as an excuse to not focus on Dave's nervous fidgeting beside you.

Dave is biting the inside of his cheek trying to game plan if he can save this, ask you at the end of class, when the teacher says something that makes his stomach drop, but his heart flutter.

"Alright, so that's the basis of the assignment, however, I would like for you to work with your table partner outside of class this weekend and choose which of you will be the interviewer and the interviewee..."

"Holy shit!" Dave could practically jump out of his seat from excitement and fear. This means he doesn't even have to actually ask you out, now you two are forced to spend time together this weekend!

"Holy shit..." You think to yourself. You feel entirely tense, as if you need to run out of the room right this instant, and your cheeks are hot under your makeup. This means you have to spend time, alone, with Dave this weekend. The truth was, you weren't even dreading it because you hate him, even if you try to convince yourself that. No, the truth was...you didn't know if you keep the charade up if you were to spend that sort of time together. Surely, surely...he would notice the crush you had been building for him for the past few months...

The teacher dismisses the class early, letting everyone figure out how they're going to make time this weekend with each other. You could turn to stone, in fact maybe you have because to your surprise it takes Dave's squeaky, unsure voice to call you name to get you out of your trance.

"Yes...Dave?" You turn, almost ridgid, but trying to be neutral, if not kind. Dave is obviously shocked, this might be the most attention he's ever scored from you!

"Well, since we're paired up, I was uh..um..." His doe eyes dart down as he speaks, finding the right words. "I was wondering if you wanted to come to my house after school to work on it?"

You can't believe it, he wants you to come over, now? No way, you can't even hardly bring yourself to move from your seat, let alone find your way over to Dave's house. You find your head giving the smallest, most timid of shakes as you stare at him with disbelief of the situation.

"Oh! Uh yeah no it's totally cool.." Dave senses the rejection and is obviously red faced as he scratches the back of his head, moving those mop of gorgeous dark curls around. "It's so sudden, you probably have big plans for a Friday night, huh?"

The way he's so obviously trying to make this work begins to melt at your icy heart. You shake your head again and immediately Dave is trying to stammer out more, but you finally find your words and work everything out.

"No, that's okay, Dave, I actually, um... I could come to your place around 7pm if that's okay?" Your usually confident self feels a bit wavered as you ask. Dave's eyes shine so brightly you think he may burst, the color in his cheeks different than before.

"Oh, that's totally awesome! I'll give you my address!" He says, with unusually less attempts to speak than normal, he must be really excited about this. You gulp at the thought, and as Dave takes a pen and rips off a piece of notebook paper, you do the same. You write down your number, in case you two need to talk at all between now and then.

You can't help yourself, you put a little black heart next to your number. It's like something has possessed you, you can't even stop yourself. "God...this is just the start..." A part of your subconscious whispers somewhere...

If you thought Dave was over the moon when you agreed to come over tonight, he's downright estactic when he sees you pass over your number.

"This is...for me??" He stares at you, mouth agape, and doesn't even realize what a dumb question that was, but you can't help but find it endearing.

"For if I get lost or something comes up..." You trail off with reasons, but you know you truly just wanted to give him your number despite your reservations. Dave totally thinks the reasons are valid though, he scrambles to put his number on the paper he passed towards you with his address.

"Oh, that makes sense here, lemme just..." His tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth as he scrawls his number. He passes it back to you again, and your cheek heat skyrockets as you see he's also put a heart. He seems pleased with himself and shy about it at the same time, as if this is a secret between the two of you.

You begin packing up after that, and look at him with your lips pursed, unable to reciprocate all he's giving you right now. As you walk away he calls out.

"Alright, see you tonight then!" And you're almost sure the whole class has eyes on your back while you walk quickly from the room, eyes down. You just hope no one decides to dig their grimy fingers into the sliver of hope that this just might work out in the way you're terrified of...

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

The sky has started to turn dark, amber meeting violet in wispy clouds above. You're looking about for the address Dave wrote down, but his writing is comparable to chicken scratch. You find the house you think is his, and decide to text the number Dave also wrote extremely poorly underneath the address. You take pause, staring at the heart he returned on the piece of paper, and wonder if you should go through with this. It's not like you can just back out either, both your grades rely on this.

"It's just studying..." You breath out into the chilled brink of nighttime air, and text him you're here.

You are surprised how soon Dave is bounding down the stairs inside before opening the door with a big smile.

"You're here! Awesome, I just got pizza ordered, it's inside!" He does everything but pull you inside, he's so excited.

You feel some of your fears evaporate as you cross the threshold of his house. It's very homey, something your house always lacked. You feel like while its not pristine, it's meant to be lived in, a place where life goes on inside. You can't remember the last time you felt that way about a place, maybe your grandma's house, once upon a time...

Dave ushers you into his kitchen where he's got pizzas and snacks laid out. You can't help but feel like this is turning out more date than study when you see the set up. Your stomach builds with butterflies as you realize he's done all this just for you. You who has ignored him, at times being borderline mean, but of course you would have had to give him the attention he deserved to have truly been mean. That would have been more than you ever had given him by a mile. "Shit..." You think to yourself as you consider the situation.

"Yeah, I figured ya know, you might be hungry and it uh, it t-takes brain power to uh do a study...study date...." He stammers out as he sees your reaction, totally trying to wring out the study from 'study date' the way you do from a wet cloth.

You can't help it, you're flattered despite yourself. No one has ever been this kind to you since you moved to your new school in 9th grade. A part of you is desperate...desperate for this attention, for this connection you so clearly don't deserve. And with a sweetheart like Dave of all people. You feel a lump in your throat, but nod, agreeing with his words. His anxiety seems to have subsided as you do, and he beams a grin at you.

"Yeah! Here lemme grab this," he takes the pizza and a can of soda for each of you with ease. "And we can head up to my room to get started?"

His room. Oh god...

Your legs follow despite everything in you feeling absolutely undeserving of this kindness, your combat boots thunking on the kitchen tiles.

He takes you upstairs to his attic room and you are surprised. As much as it's a teenage boys room, it's also quite clean, and looks really comfortable. He sets you guys up on the bed and pats a place next to him. You settle down next to him, and he flips on a TV across from the bed. You wonder how you went from being here to study, to having pizza and movie.

"I just thought we might like to watch something while we eat..." Dave says in a nervous mutter as he sees your face.

"Okay..." You say, taking a slice of pizza and nibbling a bite. With all the butterflies in there, you don't think your stomach can hold much more than a slice right now. The two of you settle into his bed, munching on slices of pizza and watching some action flick Dave's put on...

After you two are done eating, Dave moves the food stuffs out of the way, and it's just the two of you on the bed. Somehow much more intimate now that there's not a pizza box between you two. You try to focus on the movie, but you can feel Dave glancing at you for much of it.

Dave can't help himself, you just looks so gorgeous, your dark eye make up is so sharp and bold, the thought of you taking control of him, of you pushing him into his bed and using him up keeps running through his thoughts. He even tried to jack off before you came over so he wouldn't be a total horn dog, but here he is, imagining what it would be like to lean over and kiss your black lips. God...he couldn't even ask you out properly, and the only reason you're here is because of the school assignment. There's no way you would be here otherwise. "I'm such a loser..." He thinks to himself, his eyes darting away from your face when you glance over and catch him staring. Instead his eyes land on your hand, laying in between the two of you on the bed, your finger nails black like the rest of your attire.

"Maybe if I could just..." He thinks, imagining himself being bold enough to take your hand, to test the waters to see if something was there. It would be enough that he could see if you have any interest, but wouldn't be as awkward as what he wants to do, which is lean over, take your delicate face in his hands and look you in the eye before kissing you as deeply as he can. Yes, holding hands would go over better than that, he has to tell himself. He feels shaky as one of his hands reaches up to push his glasses back into place, focusing himself to complete the task of holding your hand. The movie plays on...

After what seems like ages of Dave having an internal debate, he raises his hand slowly, deliberately, making a move towards your hand. You seem to be caught in the movie right now, the film is nearing it's climax as you two sit beside each other. If all goes wrong, he'll just pull his hand back and pretend he didn't mean to move it there. "Yeah, like that will work..." The voice in his head chides. It's too late now, he's already practically doing it, his hand hovering over yours before slowly dropping it down, the heat of his hand meeting yours, before softening into a hold.

You let out a small gasp, but don't pull your hand away. Dave is at a loss for words, he doesn't know how to explain it away, he IS holding your hand, and it's clear he doesn't mean it in a friendly way from how red his cheeks get. All you can do is stare at him right now, it's like time passes by in molasses, sticky and sweet. You can't believe it, he's really making a move on you...

What surprises you more is the fact that when your body catches up to your brain, you're moving towards him with fervor. Your other hand comes to the side of his face and you're crushing your lips against his. The movie is forgotten, as well as your inhibitions. Your lips tingle when they meet his, and you can't help yourself, somehow his small innocent touch has caused the dam you built inside yourself to stay away from him to collapse. You're working your lips into his like he's the air you breathe, and Dave is so caught off guard he's letting you, moving along with you as his guide.

"Oh my god, she's kissing me...I'm kissing a girl!" Dave thinks to himself, totally blown away, his eyes wide at first before melting into your kiss, his glasses only sort of getting in the way.

"God...I can't help it...he's so nerdy and sweet, I need to know what his body is like..." You think to yourself, your hands moving wildly into his mess of curly hair, gripping and tugging him into your kiss.

It's the type of kiss that almost hurts its so wanted.

You find yourself pulling away for a moment to catch your breath, and you see your black lipstick smudged both on Dave's pouty, plump from being kissed lips, as well as your own from the reflection of his glasses. You look as if you've totally given in, your eyes filled with a desire you've never seen before. You look back into Dave's vibrant blue eyes and see he's completely at your will.

"P-please...don't stop..." He whispers, those eyes of his pleading for you to continue. God, you want to fuck his brains out right here, and at this rate you think you will.

What surprises you next is Dave taking a bit of control, his own hands wrapping around your waist and bringing you on top of him, his hands grabbing into your gothic hair style, and your lips colliding once again as Dave let's out a whimper into your kiss. You can't help but moan back, the sound a dull vibration between your lips. Dave kisses sloppily, he wants you so bad and he's never kissed a girl before, that much is clear. You bite his lower lip to slow him down and take control, his body jumping from the bite, and where your legs straddle him you can feel his hardness against you as he bucks. God, he's like putty in your hands.

Dave can hardly contain himself, his hands roam your body freely, at some point one of his hands finds it's way under your skirt, gripping your hips and running along your stomach. He doesn't want to go too north or south without your permission, scared to run you and the pleasure you're giving him off. You can tell, and moan in a way that signals your frustration, before releasing your hands from where they're knotted in his curls and grabbing his wrists. You guide his hands underneath your shirt and sit up on him, letting him explore your breasts over your bra as you slip your shirt off and quickly discard it on his floor. As you look down, Dave's eyes are wider than ever, totally encapsulated by your body, his mouth hanging open and stained with your dark lipstick.

"God...you're so sexy..." He mumbles, not even sure what he's saying, just that he's in total awe of you. He's wanted this for so long he feels like he's accidently just convinced himself that you're really here, really doing this. It's as if you're a dream come to life instead of actually straddling him on his bed.

You reach back and undo your bra, the straps sliding down slowly before you pull your bra over your head, your breasts falling out. Dave doesn't need to be told to grab them, he's getting the hang of this. He feels the softness of your chest before exploring your nipples playfully. You smirk down at him as your hips ride him fully clothed.

"Would you like to taste them...?" You say slyly, almost savoring his reaction, knowing how excited he is. All he can do is nod eagerly and say 'Please'. You lean down and let Dave cup your breasts, pulling one of them to his mouth and sucking hungrily. He has dreamed of this moment, thought of it before bed with his cock in his left hand. He never thought he would actually be here, playing with your nipples in his mouth, switching sides so your other breast doesn't feel lonely.

You continue to grind against him, his already hard cock feeling as if he will cum just from you dry humping him. You can feel it twitching, aching to be released from his pants. You slide down his body, his mouth popping off your breast with a soft pop! before he gives out a whine that he wanted more. He looks down at you as you reach his pants, and playfully stare up at him with your devilish, make up smeared smile. Somehow knowing he's messed up your perfect goth make up is turning him on. He even finds himself imagining if he could ruin it more by cumming on your pretty little face. He wonders if you would ever let him and groans as you begin pulling his pants down and letting his cock free.

You're surprised not for the first time tonight, and not for the last. Dave's cock is huge! You had no idea this little nerd was packing so much heat, it's way longer and girthier than any cock you've seen up until now, and even putting your black manicured hand around it is making your hands look so small in comparison. Dave seems almost shy about his cock, he shifts nervously as you gaze at it, mouth slightly agape at his size, and Dave wonders if you don't like it.

"Is it...okay?" He finally squeaks out from nerves, and your eyes dart back up to his, dragging out of the trance the sight of his cock put you in. You begin to stroke him and nod.

"More than okay..." You say as you feel your cheeks heat up, your mouth watering just thinking about sucking him off. You hear Dave whimper out from your touch, his back arching into you, his hips bucking for more already. He feels so sensitive, as if your touch is too much.

"Please be careful...I don't know how long I can last..." He warns you, and the idea that you get to edge him until you want him to cum has your legs clenching from the wetness unraveling there. You can't believe how your body reacts to his, it's as if every little thing he does has your stomach coiled and shivers running up and down your body. You look him in the eyes as you place your mouth over the tip of his thick cock.

He closes his eyes in pleasure just from that, and you pause. You know you'll be doing a lot of stopping and starting, going so slow, just to keep him from blowing his load early. Dave is glad once again that he has already cum a few times today, if not he would have definitely came from you dry humping him earlier. He moves a hand to your hair, holding and petting you as you begin to go deeper, bobbing up and down in a rhythm that keeps him on his toes. He can't believe how hot and wet your mouth is, and you leave black rings on his cock as you go.

You suck his cock with purpose, finding out what gets him going very easily, and putting a stop to it before he goes too far. He's a whining mess, breathing hard and husky, his voice coming out in a quiver as he speaks your name, begging you. When you think he's had as much as he can take right now, your lips satisfyingly pop off his cock, and you look him in the eyes, his cock beside your sweet face.

"Now that I've tasted you Dave...I think it's your turn to taste me..." Dave's eyes are heavy with want, but they widen as he realizes what you're getting at. Truly, you can't even believe you're so eager for him, but you've fought it for so long you can't anymore. You know what you want in this instance, and your body isn't letting your brain ruin this for you. You take off your bottoms, leaving you naked before him, his eyes grazing your body with need.

You put your knees on either side of his face, and Dave looks up at you with those gorgeous blue eyes as he stares up from under your pussy.. You worried a bit if he would shy away from it, some men can be afraid of eating women out, especially their first time doing it. But Dave has literally imagined over and over what it would be like to have you sit on his face and to eat you up like his life depended on it. And he does just that.

Without having to give him any pointers, he grabs your hips and presses your pussy onto his face, his tongue going to town right away. He begins with your clit first, sucking the whole thing right away, and you actually have to cry out, your thighs almost crushing his head.

"Sensitive! Wait!" Is all you can say, and Dave seems to get the memo, beginning to swirl his tongue around your clit, playing with it before lightly lapping at it, sometimes with his tongue pointed, others with it flat and tasting all of you. Dave is grateful he ever cared to look up online how to do this properly, even though at the time he never thought he would ever get to use this knowledge.

You're surprised when he even begins to tongue your wet hole, playing with you there before dragging his tongue back up to play with your clit. He isn't perfect at it for his first time, and you likely won't cum from just this, but god does his tongue feel good down there. Dave is definitely not embarrassing himself in this catergory. He even presses your hips, pushing your pussy further on his face, practically suffocating under you from time to time, before releasing himself, his hot breath tickling your pussy. He looks up at you every so often with such a submissive look you can barely believe it. He loves being beneath you, you taking from him just how you like it. His cock is still hard and twitching, you reach back just to give it a feel and you can tell his cock has calmed enough you could probably get on top without him spilling in you right away.

"I want you inside me, Dave..." You whisper down at him, as you pull your pussy off him and he opens his eyes, completely drunk off your pussy, your wetness glistening on his lips.

"Anything you want..." He replies, his eyelids heavy and pleased with everything so far. He wants to make sure you're satisfied.

"In that case, I'm going to cum on your cock Dave...I need you to hold out til I'm finished..." You're voice is so soft, but commanding at the same time, which Dave is crazy for. You can see he's nervous about it still, worried he will disappoint and cum too early, but he nods with determination.

You move down, and position yourself over his red, hard cock. You look him in the eyes as you slowly lower yourself, his tip gliding in, stretching you out already.

"Fuck...." You moan out, your eyes closing as you take him inch by inch. He is completely enamored, watching you closely, and so confused as to how someone as hot and intimidating as you is fucking herself on his cock. You bite your messy lip as you find yourself struggling to fit him all, he makes you feel so full. When you finally do, you let yourself sit there for a moment and take it all in, enjoying the feeling of being so completely filled.

"God, Dave...your cock is so big..." You murmur out and Dave can't believe you think his cock is big, he never realized that, he knew it wasn't small but somehow he had convinced himself he wasn't that big either.

Eventually, you begin rocking your hips, moving up and down as you both gasp from pleasure. You use your hands to steady yourself on his chest while your other hand begins to touch your sensitive clit, working it until it feels amazing, heat flooding you.

Dave holds onto your hips and helps you move on him, sometimes going slower to stop himself. He wants to fill you up so badly it hurts, his stomach and muscles are so tight, his arm muscles clenching and showing themselves as his big hands guide your hips. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer by the minute.

"Dave, you're going to make me cum..." You whisper out as you begin to feel it. Dave looks at you with worry, and asks you something you forgot to talk about before getting wrapped up on the heat of the moment.

"If you cum, I'm going to cum...do we need a condom?" He says, his brows furrowed. You thank god you are on reliable birth control right now.

"It's okay, I have birth control, go crazy..." You say off handedly, not expecting much change in reaction.

Somehow, hearing you tell him to 'go crazy' starts something in him. He almost hesitates, but there's something he really wants to try. You can tell by the look on his face that he is planning something, and with a slight nod you silently tell him to go for it.

Dave quickly lips you off his cock and effortlessly tosses you onto the bed face first. You gasp out, the power dynamic shifting in that moment. You didn't know he was that strong...

He grabs your hips and ass and pulls them into his cock, easily slipping back inside your wet folds and pushing himself so deep you had no idea he could even do that. You moan out his name and grip the pillows beneath you, suddenly feeling like the submissive one now.

"Fuck, Dave..." You breath out and shudder as he fucks you so deeply you can hardly breath right. "I didn't know you could be this...dominant..."

Dave almost chuckles at your comment, but he agrees silently. Something about you letting him fuck you like this has emboldened him, he grips you harder, playing with your ass as he goes. Squishing and squeezing it, enjoying the feel of it in his hands.

You move so one of your hands can be under you, fumbling for your wet clit once again. You moan out Dave's name loudly as he fucks you deeply, your ass bouncing against his thighs with satisfying slaps. Dave can feel you clenching as you get closer, and it's so hard for him to contain himself. He wants to spill inside you so badly, his face scrunches up from the thought, he has to bite his lip to think of something else, even if it's the pain of biting.

"Please...I can't hold on much longer..." He says between heavy breaths and calling your name.

You focus, finding the sweet spot and so lost in his cock fucking you that suddenly your legs are locking up as your pussy clamps down on his cock, your climax spilling over the edge as you moan Dave's name. Dave pounds you harder as you do this, needing to to keep up as you clench around him so tightly it makes it hard to fuck you. Almost as soon as you reach your peak, Dave is thrusting his final thrusts into you, his cum welling up and shooting off inside of you, making a total mess of your pussy. You cry out as he does this and Dave groans loudly, his body shaking and his cock twitching as it finishes releasing.

When he's done, he stays there for a moment before carefully pulling out, his cum dripping onto the bed, and the tip of his cock so sensitive he has to rush to pull the end out so it doesn't hurt.

Dave doesn't even care anymore about being shy with you, he pulls you onto him and snuggles onto your hair, taking deep breaths.

"That was amazing...I can't believe you let me do that..." He whispers into your hair, he could almost cry from how emotional and raw he feels right now, but he holds it back as best he can, not wanting to cry during sex even though you wouldn't have held it against him anyways.

He holds you for a long time, and during that time you can't even speak, the afterglow of your breath and sweaty bodies speaking for itself. You never wanted to let Dave in, and now here you are, full of his cum and sore from his cock, while you lay naked in his bed, cuddling. You end up blocking out any negative thoughts, and realize that it was so worth it. You move and snuggle into his neck, petting his chest, and musing lightly into his skin.

"I'm glad I came over, Dave..." You end up saying, because that's how you feel about all of this. Dave pets your hair and laughs lightly.

"I'm glad you came over too..."

There's no way that history project is getting done tonight.

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x goth!reader #my writing #dave lizewski fanfic #kick ass fanfic #kick ass #Spotify #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 3

Holy hell, guys. Seriously, I love you all. And just seeing the sheer amount of LOVE this story is getting makes me so happy.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1 Part 2

Eddie was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was wrong and that was uncomfortable. On the other it meant that whatever was going on with Steve he didn’t care about his reputation anymore and that was always a good thing.

He had walked out of the school doors to the parking lot after school to see a Steve Harrington leaning against his van, just like yesterday.

“Harrington,” Eddie said, “this is a surprise.”

Steve ducked his head. “If you don’t want me to be here, I can leave.”

Eddie held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa there. I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised you took me up on the offer is all. Last time I checked your lot doesn’t throw in with mine.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “It does now. Now that I don’t have anyone else.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head. “I thought you and Nancy Wheeler were hot and heavy.”

The very idea of the two of them made him gag. Hetros. Freaking insane, man.

“We broke up on Halloween,” Steve murmured.

Eddie blinked. He had been at that party. To sell, of course, he hadn’t been invited. Had even seen Wheeler storm off, but he really hadn’t thought much about it.

“What bridges haven’t you burned?” he asked in all seriousness.

“My kids,” Steve said. “I’d do anything for them.”

“Okay, that’s going to have to take some explanation,” Eddie said, shoving his hands in his back pockets.

Steve looked around the van and gulped. “Can we take this somewhere else?”

Eddie looked over and saw Nancy and some other guy being all cutesy. “Yeah. Come on, hop in. I’ll bring back later to pick up your car when the lot’s no longer crawling with people who want to do you in.”

Steve sighed in relief, his body fulling relaxing for the first time since Eddie started this journey. He moved around to the other side of the van and got in once Eddie unlocked the door.

“Where to, my liege?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Is the quarry okay?” Steve asked shyly.

Eddie’s grin softened to a smile. “Sure thing, pretty boy.” He started the van and pulled out on to the open road, leaving behind the messy turmoil that was high school.

They made it out to quarry and Eddie climbed up on the top of his van. Steve looked up at him in amazement.

“Uh, how am I supposed to get up there?” Steve asked.

Eddie leaned over the side and held out his hand. “Grab hold.”

Steve looked at it a moment and then back up at Eddie. He looked into those doe brown eyes and sighed. He planted one foot against the side of the van and then took Eddie’s hand.

And was promptly vaulted to the top of the van.

“Holy shit!” Steve said once he was settled next to Eddie. “You’re strong.”

Eddie laughed. “It comes from all the lugging equipment around for my band. And helping out with stage crew.”

“Wow, you have a band?” Steve asked.

Eddie nodded. “Corroded Coffin. It’s a metal band, we play at the Hideout every week.”

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know much about metal. I tend to go for alt rock bands like Oingo Boingo, Depeche Mode, REM, Tears for Fears...I bet that was a load of gibberish for you.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m familiar with a couple of them,” he admitted. “Not my thing. But I would have pegged you for a pop vibe.”

Steve scoffed. “I have some taste, man.”

Eddie laughed. “I’d beg to differ, but sure. You do you, dude.”

Steve bumped Eddie’s shoulder. “Go on, then. Impress me with your metal bands, since mine are such shit.”

“My favorite is Metalica,” Eddie said, bumping Steve back. “But I like Mercyful Fate, Dio, Poison.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “And I thought my bands had weird names.”

“What the hell is a Depeche Mode anyway?” Eddie fired back.

“What is a Metalica?” Steve replied.

Eddie opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “All right, you got me there.”

“I was talking to Mrs Hall today about my schedule,” Steve said, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. “I have to drop basketball and baseball. It’s too late to drop swimming, but I talked to Coach Burton and he said I should be cleared for competition I just have to see the swimming board’s doctor for final confirmation.”

“So suddenly you have two classes opened up?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, my last two,” Steve mumbled into his knees. He lifted his head with a sigh. “She won’t let me just drop them and not pick up new classes even though the semester half way through.”

“So you thought about what to fill those slots with?”

“She gave me a list of options,” Steve grumbled and dug the paper out of his pocket. He handed it to Eddie.

Eddie looked over the options. “Debate, would double as extra English credit...” he mumbled reading what Mrs Hall had wrote. “Can’t see you doing that one, if I’m honest.”

Steve shook his head. “Me either. I know it’s not just arguing. But I know they can get heated. I don’t need complete strangers yelling at me when I get that enough at home.”

Eddie nodded. “Choir. Can you sing?”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, actually. But I’ve never wanted to join the choir.”

Eddie frowned. “Why not?”

Steve cleared his throat and looked away. “My vocal coach said that I don’t blend well and am very loud.”

Eddie bumped into Steve’s shoulder. “Soloist only, then?”

Steve nodded.

“Sounds like you’d be great at metal singing,” he continued. “Very loud and very in your face.”

Steve laughed. “Whatever you say, man. But no, choir is out.”

Eddie looked back at the list. “Machine work?”

Steve shook his head. “My dad would kill me.”

“Too blue collar for your dad?” he asked. Steve nodded. “I gotcha.”

“Stage crew,” Eddie continued.

Steve sighed. “I thought about that one, but like with the machine work it’s too ‘blue collar’ for my dad. Plus with my concussion, I’m pretty sure either option would be out.”

Eddie cocked his head and clicked his tongue. “Fair enough.” He looked over the list. “Pottery?”

Steve laughed. “Sure, why not? That’s one.”

Eddie nodded. He mentally crossed out all the classes that were seventh period, focusing only on the class that were eighth.

“Hmm...” he murmured pursing his lips. “Looks like what you’ve got left is geology and drama.”

Steve reared his head back. “What the hell is geology?”

Eddie shook his head. “I have no idea, but it’s obviously a science-y thing.”

Steve let out a bitter laugh. “I guess it’s pottery and drama.” He buried his face in his knees again. “I know my reputation is already in tatters but fuck those kids in those classes are going to tear me to pieces.”

Eddie blinked. The mystery that was Steve Harrington was like following a rabbit down a hole, and coming up to Wonderland. “You’re more concerned that they’re going to make fun of you then you are of your old friends making fun of you?”

Steve lifted his head. “Well sure. I know Tommy and them are going to make fun of me even if I stayed on both teams. That’s a given. They’ve got King Billy to follow now and they’re gonna get vicious with it. But no, the real problem comes from the art geeks coming for me because I have invaded their space.”

Eddie almost brought up the drawing class Steve was already in, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He shrugged. “So tell them truth. Tell them you had course correct because of a concussion. Be honest and defer to them in all things.”

“I’m also going to be the only senior in those classes, man,” Steve groused.

Eddie cocked his head. “Yeah, probably. But what else have you got?”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Nothing.”

They lapsed into silence. Just sitting there for awhile looking out over the quarry.

After some time, Eddie bumped Steve’s shoulder again. “So you want to tell me about ‘your kids’?”

Steve frowned.

“Burned bridges, people who haven’t given up on Steve Harrington?” Eddie prompted.

Steve lit up. “Oh yeah. Sorry, man, it’s just the...” he pointed to his face. Eddie nodded. “I still don’t know how I got roped into dealing with these assholes, but yeah. There are six of them now. Started with Dustin Henderson. Smart kid, smarter than most adults I know. Then it expanded to his friends, which includes the little brothers of my ex and her new boyfriend, Jonathan Byers, and of course Lucas Sinclair. And then I picked up El or Jane. I’m not sure which one she prefers, most people call her El though. And then there’s Max.”

“Five boys and a girl?” Eddie asked, his face twisting awkwardly. “Congrats?”

Steve laughed. “Max is short for Maxine. But don’t you dare call her that.”

Eddie blinked. “Max Mayfield? As in Billy Hargrove’s step-sister?”

Steve tilted his head back. “Yeah...but I don’t think I could separate her from the group now if I tried. And besides, she’d kick my ass.”

“You are an enigma wrapped in a mystery, man,” Eddie said.

Steve looked over at him. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @evix-syne666 @renaissan-vvitch @deadlydodos @scarletzgo @messrs-weasley @kodaik97 @thedragonsaunt @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @nelotegreitic @sundead @artiststarme @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @thing-a-ling @anaibis @garden-of-gay @matchingbatbites @spectrum-spectre @winterbuckwild @steve-the-hairrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @babyblender @cursedfoxteeth @novelnovella @throwbackthrowaway @strangersteddierthings @shrimply-a-menace @emly03

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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kinzis-writing · 4 months

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Better than Revenge | M.R [5]

With the upcoming holidays, Y/N feels the pressure as she constantly gets letters from her parents and finds it hard to escape the burden of the job the death eaters have given her. It's safe to say, hiding may be her best bet, unless she can distract herself.. just for the holidays though, right?

Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby

Warning(s):

v. "i, i loved you in secret."

Chapter Five

I apologize because this chapter is sucky, I had it ready to publish days ago and when I came back to tag everyone half of it was gone so i had to rewrite it and I had no clue where it left off so I just re-wrote it and I honestly hate it, but...

Note: While I will be referencing the movies, it is not going to exactly the same. There is going to be very mild similarities between the them. Umbridge probably won't happen in my little mini series, I probably will not go into detail about the wizard war, and a lot of stuff that probably would not happen will happen.

Word Count: 2.28k

*Not proofread or edited*

*Gif not mine*

“Are you positive you don’t want to come to the burrow with us?” Hermione asked as she packed her last item in the duffle bag. Hogwarts was officially on Winter break and most everyone would be heading home to spend the holidays with their family. Hermione and Harry were going to be spending the holidays with the Weasley’s and even though Y/N had been invited she had been trying to distance herself from her friends.

Y/N shook her head, “Pansy and I planned to stay here.” She lied. She hadn’t talked to Harry or the Weasley’s much since the death eaters meeting. This led Harry to know that something had happened that she did not want to talk about it, so none of them pushed her, knowing she’ll talk when she gets ready.

The Granger girl gave her friend a sad smile, “Mrs. Weasley has a place for you if you change your mind.” She assured, earning a nod from the Nettleby girl. “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened. But, if you need anyone to talk too, We’re here for you.” She added picking up her bag and leaving with her last comment.

After she was sure that the carriages had left Hogwarts, Y/N gathered her things and set off to find Dumbledore. She knew that he would more than likely be in his office, waiting for someone to come and bother him. Maybe even taking care of the whole situation that her family had going on. That still did not stop her from being nervous when she knocked on the door and walked into his office.

“Miss Nettleby, I didn’t expect you to be stopping by.” Albus spoke in his calm and content voice as the girl stepped further into his office with the door closing behind her.

“I have a couple requests, but they may seem odd.” Y/n spoke honestly as she slipped her bag off her shoulder and held it in her grip.

Albus shook his head, the look in his eyes never leaving. “When you get to be my age nothing is odd.”

Y/N carefully laid her bag on the ground before pulling out three stacks of letters, ones that were meant for her eyes only. “I have heard about there being an extra dorm, one that no one wants to use… and I was thinking maybe I can move into it?” Dumbledore gave the girl a slightly surprised look before grabbing the letters that she was handing him. “It’s my understanding that not many people know about it because it’s charmed, and I feel as though it may be a way for me to hide.” She concluded.

Dumbledore moved his gaze down to the letters stacked in front of him, and carefully started opening each one. He had read every letter that had been sent to the girl since returning to Hogwarts after that dreaded weekend. “I see.” He spoke as he noticed the girl taking the letters back and placing them in her bag. If her parents ever found out that she confided in Dumbledore, then it would be over for you. “May I ask why they expect this out of you, but your brother has yet to have an assignment.”

“Well, you see professor, they consider me a disappointment because I was sorted into Gryffindor, and they overheard Sean and I talking about not wanting to become a follower of you know who.” Y/N explained. “I think they have had this planned since they found out about my house and that Harry was here.”

Albus nodded, understanding the girl’s predicament. “I will allow you to use the charmed dormitory, remember that Tom Riddle did not know about the existence of this when he was here. Be sure that those you let in are the ones that you can trust.” He reminded. Knowing that Snape had reported many things to him, including what the girl had wanted to talk about and how a certain Riddle boy had been trying to figure out the plans to help her as well.

“Of course.” Y/N nodded before thanking him and leaving his office to head back towards her now-former dorm.

Y/N sat on the bed in the boy’s dormitory in the Slytherin house. Sean had decided to go to his girlfriend’s family for Christmas, Draco was going home for the holidays because his family always threw a Christmas Party, Enzo had gone home, and Theo was either at home or with his girlfriend.

“What makes you stay at Hogwarts anyway?” Y/N asked as she swung her legs up on the bed and scooted back against the headboard of the Riddle boy’s bed. “You don’t want the inside scoop about what they’re planning.”

Mattheo shook his head, finishing up what he was doing. “I try to stay away as long as I can, but I know the life that I am destined to live.” He shrugged acting as if he didn’t care, but Y/n knew that he cared more than anything.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Teo.” Y/N promised softly. “We were friends for two years before the whole thing went down.” She added and watched him carefully as he sat down on the edge of his bed.

The boy thought for a moment, how did they end up in this situation? It was easy, he thought she deserved better, and she ended up with Theo before he talked himself into telling her how he felt. “I don’t want to be like my father” He finally spoke up. It was the only way that he could express his worry without physically admitting that he was scared.

Y/N sat up further and scooted herself closer to him, “Why would you be your father? You’re far from it.” she asked, her hand resting on his back as she scooted herself up to be more even with him.

Mattheo shrugged, “My father expects me to be, and my mother will carry out anything that my father says.” He muttered knowing exactly how his family works, within the next year he would be walking around with the dark mark and there was nothing he could do about it.

Y/N thought for a moment. Everyone knew that his father was the way he was because of love potions. Anyone conceived during a love potion was unable to love, one of the bad side-effects of using a love potion on anyone. “You are far from your father.” Y/N started hoping to get his spirits up. “Your father is unable to love and care about people, and I know deep down, whether you show it or not, that you care about people.”

“I care about you.” He muttered as he carefully met Y/N’s gaze.

‘Well,” Y/n started completely startled by his open statement. “I am a person, and I care about you too, Teo.”

Mattheo’s lips quirked upward for a split second before leaning forward a bit. “Why did you go out with Theo?” he asked quietly, not breaking the tension between them.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, confusion about why it mattered. “I don’t see why that matters.” She replied not sure what Mattheo was wanting to hear from her. She had originally dated Theo to forget about Mattheo and to get her parents off her back. That didn’t make it hurt any less when he cheated on her, because at the time she would have told you that she loved him, now she realizes that it wasn’t love. It was far from love.

“Why do you have to make this harder than it has to be.” Mattheo mumbled before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Their bodies turned to face each other as he deepened the kiss and Y/N’s hand moved to the back of his neck, her hand in his hair. They kissed until they had to break apart for air. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment you walked into the great hall with him.” He whispered carefully, bringing his hand up to her face so she wouldn’t pull away.

Instead of replying, Y/N just molded their lips back together, because if the truth was known, she had been craving Mattheo’s affection for two years.

Waking up on Christmas morning was different than any other holiday morning. Mainly because the snow would line the ground and the pretty decorations would be hung up. This year was different, because Y/N had woken up in Mattheo’s bed. Nothing sexual had happened between them recently, but it was safe to say that the “fake dating” was becoming more real with each day.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Mattheo’s raspy morning voice spoke as he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck to get her to wake up.

Y/N woke up with a bright smile, the warmth of the boy next to her surrounding her. “Merry Christmas.” She replied, turning over to face Mattheo. Both of their hair was messed up, due to sleep and they had probably slept through breakfast since they had both felt well rested, but neither of them cared.

“You want breakfast?” he asked softly as he pushed some of her hair out of her face. He was shocked at how easy it was to be himself around her. It was something that he had never expected or experienced. True, they were close previously, but he never let himself show much emotion. “I may be able to get a snack until lunch.”

Y/N shrugged, “s’up to you.” She mumbled, closing her eyes again for a split second. Mattheo took that as his chance to casual steal a kiss. It was short and sweet and nothing drastic. Y/N peeled her eyes back open a smile on her face, “You’re getting comfortable kissing me, teo.” She teased, placing her hand on his cheek.

A cheeky grin graced Mattheos, usually emotionless, face. “You’re finally letting me.”

She shook her head at his statement, “I told you when we started this that you could do anything you wanted.” She recalled noticing his eyes narrow at the mention of the plan that started this.

“I wanted it to be real, I’ve always wanted it to be real.” He quietly admitted, feeling shy for even telling the truth about it. It showed how he was scared to tell you how he felt, especially with you having dated his best friend.

“You,” Y/N started as she leaned up a bit to meet his gaze face-to-face. “Are turning into a sap.” She teased and let out a laugh when she noticed Mattheo’s cheeks turn dark pink. “Lucky for you, I love those types.” She finished crashing her lips to his and feeling the similar rush that she had two years ago.

The make-out session had gone on for a bit, until they were interrupted by Mattheo’s stomach. With that the two officially parted and agreed to meet back in Y/N’s new dorm after they had gotten ready, and he had gone to get food since they had missed the first meal of the day. Lunch would be rolling around soon, so their hunger was not a huge issue now. Mattheo had returned to Y/n’s new dorm with her favorite snack and the two had just spent Christmas in the presence of each other.

The winter break had flown by for the duo and soon it was New year’s, and the train and carriages would be returning to Hogwarts the next day. Somewhere between the jokes, conversations, and bookathons, Mattheo had asked Y/N to officially be his girlfriend and not just around his friends. Given, anyone who was left at Hogwarts could tell that something had shifted between them. What little group of students were left often had their eyes focused on the two worse than they usually did. Maybe it was because they were showing more pda, or maybe their relationship looked more real after they had a full two, almost three weeks to bond.

“Why did this break go so fast?” Y/N complained as her head rested on Mattheo’s lap. The couple sat in the Slytherin common room, on the couch that their friend group always occupied. The green hues showing as the flame moved was interesting to Y/N, especially because it was starting to become her favorite color. “I enjoyed the break from Veronica trying to ruin my life.” She muttered, her boyfriend playing with her hair making her more relaxed.

“She can’t ruin your life even if she tried.” Mattheo remarked back as he sat the book in his hands down. “You coming with me out to the lawn?”

Y/N shook her head, knowing that mattheo had hardly smoked since the break. Maybe it was a habit that affected him worse when he was worried or stressed or maybe it had been what she had said during their game of truth or dare. Whatever the reason, she had noticed how Mattheo relaxed more easily when it was just the two of them. It didn’t matter what they did because he was laid back and never seemed like he worried about anything. Sometimes, Y/N wondered if he could feel the dread or the bad vibes like she did. She knew she was feeling them due to what was about to happen, but she didn’t know if it was the letters from her parents or what was brewing and fixing to start. Either way she knew that it was going to be bad.

One thing she knew for sure was that she would protect her friends and everyone she loved at all costs. Regardless of what would happen to her and not caring about what her family will do.

again, I apologize because I hate how this chapter ended and how it went. I promise to try my hardest to make the last few chapters better. With that being said, i will now be saying my drafts on word, even after writing them here to prevent further deleting any part of the story!

Tag List: @yoichiislovie @hedwigprewett12 @justhavingsomefun1 @lafrone @julesandro @prongsprincessworld @bruher @mattiesgirl @kiwi475 @frogtape @blueeweeb @wildlyobserving @harrysnovia @devotedlycrookeddonut @oi-itse @dear-fifi @grandtheoristpeach @dory-98 @jetblackpayne @b4b3tte @xmadigurlx @thecraziestcrayon @whoknowsbut @lovesanimals0000 @cmervns @urrsa @starkeylover @taylors--version @snow-onthebeach-13 @supernatural-lover @ivy-34 @jasmine2105 @yazzy1004 @itsamusical4lifee @rainy-darling @topguncultleader @primscat

I am sorry if it didn't tag you, I tagged the wrong person, or you no longer wish to be tagged. Just let me know and i will fix it!

#mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x gryffindor #mattheo riddle x oc #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagines #harry potter series #mattheo riddle better than revenge series #better than revenge series

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landograndprix · 22 days

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xiii

part twelve - part fourteen

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ life is going from bad to worse but maybe a bit of alone time is exactly what you needed but lando is not ready to give up.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ very annoyed because the site I used to edit the text messages is gone and now I have to change the whole aesthetic of the fic. Tag list is closed.

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

landonorris replied to your story

landonorris

pick up your phone

where are you?

babe text me back pls

text me pls

baby I'm sorry

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, manon_roux and 548,534 others

y/nusername week 14. 🇧🇪

view all 1,114 comments

norrizz absolutely foul that they set you up with Danica all the time 😂

↳ bott_ass is like they want a cat fight on live television 💀

norris4 did you and lando break up?

milliexoxo didn't invite me for some waffles? Rude.

↳ oscarpastry pretty sure you were in the wrong garage 😉

carlandooo millie and Logan confirmed? 👀

oscarpastry she was just in williams garage, doesn't have to mean anything ofcourse but they've been seen together a couple times 👀

bobnorris did you break up with lando???

joris__trouche douce petite fille avec sa nouvelle amie 🦁 (sweet baby girl with her new friend)

↳ leclerc_16 it's been a while since I saw uncle joris in the comments 😭

landoooo why are y'all asking her if her and lando broke up?!

↳ norry4 just a stupid rumor going around again..

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 746,523

y/nusername rien que nous deux 🌞 (just the two of us)

view all 1,109 comments

norrizz oh..okay :(

hannahh going on a holiday all by myself with a toddler sounds like a nightmare to me, you go mom!

norry4 who remembers millie getting excited about her holiday to Greece with the 'norris bunch' 😔

↳ lan4lan stop she was so excited when y/n told her 😭

yukisan when was this?

norry4 one of mils her vlogs

hamilt44n fastest kid in the pool 🏎 💨

bott_ass put me in your suitcase next time please 😭

landoscar wonder why they broke up..

↳ clsixteen nothing had been confirmed yet, jeez y'all need to calm down

julieeeexo hope you guys enjoy your little girl vacation <3

landonorizzzz guys lando is still liking her posts, it's probably nothing (I'm delulu 😔)

↳ charliecharlie charles is also still in her likes and guess what they are? Not together anymore :(

landonorizzzz girl shut up 😭

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y/nusername posted to their story

manon_roux replied to your story

manon_roux

Hi there, it's been a while and I completely understand if you don't want to speak to me and feel free to ignore this message but I've been seeing all the things they've written about you and everything that's happened and I just need to know if you're doing alright, making sure zoë is doing good

I know we don't see eye to eye anymore but you were my best friend since we were little kids so I'll always think about you, I hope you understand that

I'd apologise a thousand times for what I said and did but I also understand you're done withe me

I'm asking for you to give me your whole story but a thumbs up to let me know you're okay would ease my mind

➽────────────────────────❥

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @geehsf @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris #charles leclerc #lando norris smau #charles leclerc smau #lando norris x y/n #charles leclerc x you #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #lando x reader #charles x reader

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gyuswhore · 4 months

Text

Remembrance of Ice

"Fear does anything but land with precision."

PAIRING: ice king!xu minghao x fem spy!reader

SYNOPSIS: Xu Minghao rules over a land where the sun never rises and crops never grow, shunned by the world for their nature so ruthless it has them caged within their borders.

That is, until you land straight into the dragon's den to find the story untold.

CONTAINS: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, kinda lore heavy, reader and minghao are in a perpetual spat, talks of military and political power, manipulation (not by minghao), ft. chan

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

masterlist

[AN]: MIKA DAY MIKA DAY MIKA DAY except im a day late bc I don't know how to time manage ANYWAY mika my love I hope you enjoy this you mentioned villain hao that one time and I stuck to it praying this is good ksjgnvrkjgn @toruro

id love to turn this into a longer, more detailed fic in the future, I really like this concept and theres loads more I could do with it. lmk if you'd like to see it hehe

edit: had to repost a couple times cuz it wasn't showing in the tags. it still isn't but idc anymore if this only reaches mika then so be it sgnkrtjg

The cold was the worst.

Your iced pride had been swallowed down to accept the flimsy cloth the guards that pushed you into this stone dungeon had given you. Not that it was doing much to help you, the thin fabric acting as more of a permeable layer than your gear.

Huddling into yourself, you breathe out warm exhales in the hopes that it’d do something about the face you couldn’t feel anymore. With the sight of your discolouring fingernails, you hope the people in this wretched place would decide what they wanted to do with you before you succumbed to the cold. There’s a bad taste in your mouth at the thought of dying a death like this – that the cold would become your ultimate demise.

The croning of the metal doors of your prison wrench open in what feels like a deafening sound, the screech having you throw the flimsy blanket off your body in haste. You would not be seen taking advantage of their supposed kindness.

The two guards that trudge in are quick to tell you to stand. You nearly laugh at the prospect of doing anything they ask.

“What do you want?” your voice has eroded to a brassy sound.

“Stand up,” the guard repeats, his face covered in the black balaclava that wraps around everything but spares his eyes. Cold, dark, soulless.

Your pride screamed to refute. But you were at a dead end, and perhaps it was time to accept it. Eyeing the weapons strapped to both their waists, moreso the lack thereof of your own, you make the first attempt to pull yourself up. It’s difficult, you find, needing a moment to regain your senses before pushing up completely. You tried not to show it, not wanting to look weak in front of the very people you need to show strength.

“Hands,” the other guard gruffs out.

You hesitate before bringing your shivering wrists forward, cursing yourself for not being able to control your own body. The cuffs they bind to your wrists are somehow even colder, and you have to consciously bite back a cursed wince.

Your resolve begins to truly thin when you struggle to simply take a few steps forward, the muscles in your legs frozen like everything else in the room. You manage to not fall. A commendable feat when your goals went from overtaking a couple of (very armed) guards to simply not falling over like a newborn fawn.

You feel them lightly shove you out the gates, something you should not have struggled to recover from from, but alas, you can only grit your already ground teeth as you try to not tip over entirely. The halls of the dungeons are made of the same gray concrete as your cell, the tight corridor leading you out into an only slightly larger hall with a single door at the seemingly dead end.

The large brass handle with the distinct reptile circling its expanse stares at you. You are forced to consider the idea that these may be your final breaths.

One of the guards squeezes out into the hall and approaches the door, three sharp knocks to the wood before you hear a muffled “come in.”

Your feet remain planted to the floor as you feel another push of the guard that remains behind you, urging you forward as the other one stands at the door, expecting you to walk inside. Perhaps some would classify this as a moment of weakness, especially when all you’ve been taught is to face death with anything but fear. But it seeps into your bones regardless.

You wonder if all those stories you were told of fearless soldiers and sheilds of humans were as lionhearted in their final moments as the storytellers claimed, as brave as the legends that followed.

You considered yourself one of the best in your field, most of your peers agreed. And yet, that moment of hesitancy in the face of potential death caged you in an unimaginable retaliance. What on Earth was wrong with you?

And so you moved forward, one foot in front of the other with resilience fueled by pure outrage at your own feeble mind. You would do as you were taught, you would march into the mouth of the dragon because you were not allowed to fear death. You refused to meet your end as a coward.

The cuffs that encase your wrists burn at the skin as you walk into the room. It’s small, small enough to force you and the two guards to shift closer to keep from the man that stands across the room.

You almost don’t notice him, which alarms you immensely. Regardless of the stark black attire that matches the dark, gloomy atmosphere of the tiny room, the man seems to blend into the shadows, becoming part of the walls. His back faces you as he looks out the window, like he’s invigorated with the snow that drifts to the earth.

It’s nighttime. It’s always night time here.

“The prisoner, sire,” the one in your left gruffs out.

The man at the window turns to face you, the sight of his face causing you to bite back a gasp.

His skin is the same colour as the snowflakes that fall behind him, near glistening white. It seems to make every other feature of his face stand out in earnest; the black of his eyes, the crimson of his lips, the dark of his hair.

He’s gorgeous, you decide, but you also decide that you may be about to die at his hands.

There’s also the matter of how he was addressed by the goons that flank you. Unless sire means something else in this godforsaken land, you should have realized who this is by now.

Xu Minghao’s expression remains unchanged, the mild disinterest evident as he barely glances at you before taking a seat at the makeshift office area in the middle of the room. He leans back against the plush, finally regarding the other people in the room with words.

“You can leave.”

You hear the guards begin to file out the room.

“Ah—take off the restraints before you go. And shut the door.”

You want to describe what his voice sounds like, and while indifferent to another, it’s like a million icicles plunging into your eardrums. It isn’t until the guard blocks your view to unlock you that you realize how strained your eyes were, like it was draining to simply look at him.

When both guards have left the vicinity, doors closed with a deep thud, you set yourself in steel. Just because he was about to kill you didn't mean you were about to make it easy for him.

You wonder why a king was meddling to discard a mere enemy officer, but if you knew anything of their bloodthirst, this was a form of amusement.

“Well?” you say, your voice still bare-there.

“Take a seat.” He means the lone chair that stands on your side of the table.

“No,”

His eyebrows shoot up, “No?”

You stare at him, and it's the first time he’s looked at you for more than three seconds.

“No,” you reiterate. “If you’d like to eliminate me, I’d suggest we cut to the chase. I don’t want your bleak hospitality.”

“Are you offering your head?”

“I’m asking you to quit the niceties. We know what you are.”

He studies you for a moment before continuing quietly, “Who is we?”

Your jaw is set as you calm yourself down, “The people who keep coming into your barren lands, only to never return. My people.”

“Your people that keep invading this barren land, only to find out that actions have consequences?”

“The mere thought of us is a consequence for you vermin,” you spit.

“Your people, you had said?” There’s a strange hint of jest in his voice, and it only infuriates you even more.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Your people who have not once attempted to negotiate your release from us vermin, I thought your people were known for your camaraderie. Especially for such an important soldier, do they truly consider you that disposable? ”

The low fester of embers had now ignited into a full flame, the rage becoming near indescribable. Aside from how heinous, you had underestimated how infuriating his kind could be.

“You know nothing of me!” your voice is loud, your own shade of venom that laces your tongue.

And then he says your name.

You falter.

He shouldn’t know that. You don’t have a nametag, nothing to identify you on any record, anywhere. And yet, you know what you’ve heard is your name that fell from his lips, undeniably so.

He continues with the faintest sneer, “Captain of the SUN team, first in line from your peers for a promotion, and of course, right hand of your idiotic General of the Army.”

You can't be sure if you’re shivering from the cold or the rage that courses through every vein in your body. Perhaps it was the latter as you feel your mind shortcircuit at the sight of his smug face.

And, of course, with the way you lunge.

It takes barely a second for your numb fingers to reach his pristine throat, curling with the need to rupture his airways beyond measure. It also takes him barely a second to step out of the way, causing you to thud into the table, fingers faltering as they grasp onto nothing.

The air is knocked out of your chest, and you don’t realize what’s happened. He’s quick, and you’re out of shape. He’s on the other side of the table, hands in his pockets as he stares at your weak attempts at regaining your bearings.

“This is the problem with your people. Why must your first response to any confrontation be to fight to the death?”

Leaping over the table, you attempt to corner him against the wall, only to find him leap over to the other side of the table when you advance, switching your initial spots. It might have even been laughable if you weren’t so heated, like children running around in circles in a lethal game of tag.

He takes advantage of yet another moment of weakness you’ve shown, pushing the separating table directly into you, forcing you back as you stumble to hit the window. The opening is just enough to fit your waist, with no room for your legs to leap back over, locked in at the sides of the table that effectively cages your body between wood and glass.

Your first instinct is to push the wretched thing back, but you realize very quickly that you can’t. It shouldn’t explain how he was able to cage you in a place like this, especially with his scrawny build. Unless he’s locked it in place somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“What the fuck?” you gasp out to mostly yourself.

“You’ve weakened, little soldier. I heard you were better than this.”

“Let me go so I can prove it to you then,” you spit, still fruitlessly struggling against your prison.

“Had your chance,” he states, hands in his pockets, an eyebrow cocked. “Of course, fear does anything but land with precision. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“What makes you think I’m scared of you?”

“Oh, you are such a simpleton,” he narrows his eyes.

“You haven’t been talking about anything of substance for someone who doesn’t claim to be scared. What’s holding you?” you gruff.

He stares for a moment like he’s studying you. For some reason, your struggling falters, his piercing gaze leaving you wondering what he had up his sleeve.

“You know you are weak. Your strength isn’t nearly where it had been when you arrived. I’ve also been told you’ve been starving yourself.”

“I said I don’t want your hospitality!”

“You were supposedly indifferent to everyone in the room, including the guards, but you kept your eyes on me like a hawk. The first mention out your mouth was of death.”

“Was I supposed to expect compassion?” you mock, but the desperation lingers in your voice.

“Can’t be helping knowing nobody is looking for you,” he finishes.

“Because you would’ve sent me on my way home if they were? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Quite right, yes.”

“Like you did with the other soldiers that seemingly disappear in your lands?”

“Nobody asked, so we did not deliver.”

“Lies!” It comes out as a near scream.

You think of all the stretched months that turned into inevitable years trying to retrieve your lost manpower. Of course, your higher-ups asked for hostage negotiations, did everything in their power to bring them home.

Fitting for the man in front of you to deny it, but infuriating nonetheless.

“And you’re wildly defensive,” he sighs. “You’re scared. Of being in enemy territory, of dying, of being alone. One or the other, that’s for you to decide.”

You want to scream again.

“They lied to you, soldier. And I may be a villain in your self-written history books, but you will come to know of the harsh truth, from me or anybody else. You should know what exactly it is that you’re fighting for.”

“What are you yapping about?”

He turns back around, moving to the door before rapping a knock. The guards re-enter the room.

“Take her to base.”

“Chan?”

He stands at the entrance of the tent, speaking to somebody in armor with a solemn expression. He turns around at the sound of his name, catching sight of you walking up.

He breaks out into a smile at the sight of you, eyes going wide as he excuses himself to sprint over. You’re not quite sure if the fatigue is causing you to hallucinate, but with the way his face becomes clearer with every step he takes, you have to convince yourself that you’re not.

As appropriate as it is to slam into him in a hug, considering you thought he was dead mere seconds ago, you can’t see yourself caring.

“They told me it was you that arrived,” he says.

“Oh my god, I thought you were dead. Everybody thought you were dead. How are you here?” you breathe into his ear.

He pulls away slowly, and you note how he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Chan?”

“There’s a lot to unpack here. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

A lot to unpack there was, you realize, as the guards leave you with Chan when said to. The questions doubled when you entered the significantly warmer tent to find it swarming with familiar faces, busy working on tables littered with charts and papers, military symbols drifting overhead.

Chan is quick to let you know that none of the ‘fallen’ soldiers were missing at all. In fact, were stationed here at this military base.

Your gaping mouth renders no response as he fishes you both through the hustle and bustle of the industrial canopies, destination unknown. As much as you’d kick yourself for your lack of vigilance, you find yourself trusting him to take you wherever, your mind preoccupied with trying to absorb every detail of your environment.

If this was what sensory overload was, you’re not sure you like it blocking your thinking capabilities this much.

He lets you into another tent, littered with trunks and equipment, lit with a couple hardworking oil lamps. He goes to rummaging in random trunks as you watch.

“What is this place?”

“Inventory. Clothes and a bunch of other stuff,” he says as he throws you a pile of fabric. “Here, change into this, it’s warmer.”

He leaves you alone in the tent to change, which you do quickly to meet him again outside. Moving the flap of the tent away, you find him out in the snow waiting.

It isn’t until you’ve adequately cornered him that you can ask. “Chan, are being held here against your will? Is everybody here—”

“Wait, hold,” he holds a hand up to silence you. “Just—let me explain.”

You’re rendered silent in a corner of this base camp, albeit a little warmer than when you came in with the effective coat you’re now shrouded in. Other than being lost in a mine of confusion, you notice the calculated expression on Chan’s face when you bring it up. Like he didn’t know how you’d react.

“There’s been a lot of lies our entire life. One’s that we didn’t realize till we landed here,” he starts, facing the endless plane of snow to the East.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” you ask, keeping your eyes steady on him.

“These people aren’t cruel, nor are they the animals we’ve been told they are,”

“Chan, what is wrong with you?” you take a step back in mild exasperation.

“Listen, this sounds insane, but it’s only because we’ve been brought up to believe anything the government told us, anything our superiors drilled into our heads. I’d started having doubts while we were still home—”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Nobody wanted to tell you anything. You were more loyal to the General than you were to yourself!”

“I—because…” you falter. He was right.

“They’ve taken advantage of the way this land refuses to retaliate. We’ve been in the wrong this whole time.”

“I don’t know what it is that they’ve been feeding you for so long, but this isn’t the Chan that left home all those months ago.”

“You’re right,” you hear, but it’s not Chan.

Whipping your head around, you find the overlord himself walking to where you were.

“Apologies for interrupting, but I think you’re needed back there, Chan,” Minghao informs him as he regards him.

You whip back around to Chan, “Wait, you can’t just—”

“Listen, it’s going to take you a little bit, but I promise you’ll see what I mean,” he reiterates.

“This is absurd—” you start again but are cut off by him again. He lurches forward, grasping both your wrists in his, forcing you to pay attention to him.

“Do you trust me?”

“W-what?”

“Answer the question. Do you trust me?”

You stare at him, stumped for a moment. Did you trust him? Five months ago, before he left, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. Yet, now you find yourself hesitating.

“Yes. I trust you,” you decide out loud.

“Then give it time. You’re shaken, you’re exhausted, you’re confused. You’ll make your decision yourself when you see for yourself.”

He watches your shoulders droop ever so slightly, a clear sign of your surrender. “Fine.”

“Good.”

You turn back to find the other man long gone, the vast expanse of snow and darkness engulfing the plane that leads to the congregation of tents. Chan begins to lead you back, mumbling about how he needs to get back inside.

It’s during your trudge that you realize there’s something that still bugs you, supposing you’d get your answer if you asked him.

“What’s the king doing meddling in military bases and war prisoners?” you begrudgingly ask.

“He’s very… hands-on, I guess. He cares about what happens around here, his land, his people.”

“Like a normal ruler?” you mumble in annoyance.

“When was the last time you saw the General leave his office?”

You haven’t.

A month. That’s how long you’ve been at this base camp.

Enlightenment may be an understatement to what this place is giving you, absurdities that they call the truth. Absurdities, as you may have called them a moon ago.

This barren country did not have a military, you were told. These makeshift headquarters were made to keep up with the endless external aggressions from the other side.

“They’re all people given the choice to stay. We needed the manpower. Military precision was never our forte,” Minghao explains.

You hate how he has an answer to every critical question of yours, how you’ve gone past thinking this was some elaborate, well-thought-out story to put your guard down, to put everyone’s guard down.

Sitting at this wooden table with maps and charts littering the surface, he looks you down from the other end. Chan remains silent next to you, knowing that if you asked, he would’ve given you the same response.

“So you’re trying to build an army? To what, retaliate?” Your arms remain crossed over your middle.

“We cannot retaliate,” Chan says.

“The difference in military power is too much, anyway. We can’t fight something that fights us in different ways,” Minghao finishes. He looks stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You watch him drag a chair to sit down.

The majority of camp was resting for the day, leaving the base relatively empty save for the three of you.

“Different ways?” you question.

You watch him close his eyes, running a hand over his face. “Chan, you told me she was smart.”

“She’s having a harder time adjusting than I thought she would,” he chuckles humourlessly in response.

“Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to take another month to figure it out on my own?” you snap.

“What have you been told about our borders? Why is this land the way that it is,” Minghao starts.

You don’t have an answer because you’ve never been told. The general was forever adamant that a land and its people were interconnected, that Minghao’s nation was as ruthless as the land itself was.

“What about what you thought?” he tries again.

“Nature’s weird, I don’t know,” you huff.

“You were so loyal to a man that had no rhyme to his reason. How blind did you have to be—”

“Keep to the question,” you monotone.

He exhales before continuing. “This land is the incarnation of balance. It might not look like it, but we play the most important role in making sure your nations remain stable.”

“Regular communities cannot survive in this weather, the livestock perishes, and crops cannot grow. Everything that makes humanity thrive remains absent here.” Minghao places his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “But it remains like this here so the rest of the world can foster humanity; that’s the purpose of this land.”

“A sacrifice of sorts,” Chan adds quietly.

“My land remains lifeless so others may thrive,” Minghao finishes.

“Why…why this land?” you question after a few beats.

He leans back against his chair, “I don’t know. Perhaps my ancestors were cursed. Perhaps this is just what this land was made to do. All I know is that my mother and father left me the job of ensuring this place is protected, as their mother and father taught them. All for the sake of keeping balance.”

It was wildly ironic that a place that was the definition of extreme was seemingly also harboring the balance to this world, but you found no jest in his words. You had also learned that it was the more unbelievable things here that would turn out to be most true, so you let yourself believe in whatever lore you had just unlocked.

“So you can’t retaliate,” you echo.

“Not if we wish to keep the peace, no.”

Chan chimes in this time, “This is all really just a misunderstanding that’s fallen into the wrong hands. The General’s a bloodthirsty fuck; this is just an excuse for him to retain power and satisfy all his sick fantasies.”

“How do we fix this then?” you dare to ask.

“We can’t,” Minghao says. “Not right now, at least. If we want to make a move, we have to grow as an entity. What your General doesn’t understand is how he’s feeding his own enemy whenever he sends some poor soldier our way.”

“That’s what everyone’s been working on. The SUN team is nearly complete with you here. We need to equip everyone here with skills more than anything,” Chan says.

“And then?”

“And then we let the General know who’s side we’re really on.”

Xu Minghao had a very peculiar way as King.

Other than remaining in the same bunkers as the rest of the population, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone besides the guards address him as sovereign. He sat with everyone during mealtimes, spoke to everyone like a friend, yet remained the one in charge.

Over the months, you remained the last newcomer of the bunch, learning slowly but surely of your new truth. That was, until your sixth month.

It happened during breakfast, walking out into the dark sky to greet the person Minghao had told you was the newest aggravated prisoner. You knew her from headquarters, having seen her multiple times as she trained, but never learned her name. Her brows unfurrow slightly at the sight of you, recognizing you immediately.

You try to stay as others who remain familiar to the newcomer speak to her, adding where your credibility was due. You underestimated how difficult it would be, not because she was being frustrating, but because she was frustrated.

With every surge of exasperation she showed, every snarky remark to words of reason, you saw yourself. A strange, heavy feeling sets itself in your chest, making it difficult to speak, difficult to simply stand there as you watch her ideologies rendered as lies.

So you excuse yourself, moving out of the way into the snow you’d learned to make a confidant instead of an irritation. It wasn’t strange to find somebody contemplating alone in the snow, the constant darkness ready to keep everyone company.

You aren’t sure what it is that you want to contemplate, but simply sitting in the snow helps, allowing you to remain unstimulated. The weird feeling remained, but what also remained was your brain's inability to distinguish one from the other.

You don’t know how long you had been sitting there, but are aware of the lighter sheen of blue that the sky has turned into when you hear trudging behind you. You turn to find Minghao approaching, halting a foot away.

“Did you see the newcomer?” he asks.

“Yeah. They’re handling it, she’ll be fine.”

It falls silent once more. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t warmed up to the man in the past months, perhaps even enough to call yourself friends. Chan had quite the role to play in that.

He invites himself to sit next to you in the snow, letting out a deep exhale that fogs the air. “I wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You’re stumped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well…” he chortles. “You’ve been sitting here for a good three hours, so I only thought it was natural to assume.”

“It’s not good to assume.”

“And that you can’t be doing too well seeing the newcomer.”

“...Got me,” you whisper, still gazing into the far-off mountains.

“You can talk about it if you want,” he offers.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you sigh.

“Or is there too much to talk about?” he raises a brow.

You’ve turned to look at him at this point, making out his facial features with the low light of the lamps that burn in the distance.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Know what I’m thinking about.”

“You’re easier to read than you think,” he chuckles. “Why? D’you think I’m reading your mind?”

“Seems like it sometimes.”

“Do you miss home?” he asks, albeit a little cautiously.

“I do. I miss what it meant to me. I don’t think I could go back and feel the same way, though,” you answer. If he was trying to get you to open up, he was succeeding.

“Why’s that?”

You snort, “Obvious, isn’t it? Can’t call a place full of lies home. I can’t believe I let them manipulate me to that extent.”

You think of the mental turmoil on the girl's face.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were doing what you taught.”

“Other people found holes in the story, though. They saw the beginnings of what was really happening. I was so blind, they couldn’t even try to talk me out of it.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself. It was the General’s job to be conniving. What use if his right hand could see through it. With how long it took you to come around, it only shows how dangerous he is.”

You remain silent as you absorb his words. There was truth to them, but you find it hard to dissolve it into your mindset.

“What matters is you're here now, that you chose the truth despite what you’d grown to learn.” He’s staring right at you when he says it, something you find as you look up to do the same.

There’s a lurch in your stomach, one that has your cheeks burning despite the temperature.

“How do you not hate any of these people? How do you not hate me? We’re the reason your people are so detested,” your voice comes out shaky, yet thick with a weird mix of emotions.

“I hate the ones that choose to be like this despite knowing what the truth is.”

“Like the General?”

“Like the General.”

It’s silent as you watch him gaze into your soul, an uncomfortable feeling yet one that stops you from looking away.

You want to kiss him.

The thought alone has you jumping in place, shaking off the way your body seems to have seized up. You move your knees away in blatant ignorance, looking at anything but his face.

“What?” he asks at your sudden change in behavior.

“Nothing!” you say, a little too loud to be considered casual.

“Why’d you move away?”

“I didn’t!” Of course, you realize how stupid you sound. You huff as you continue, “Just—I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?”

“Goodness, you need to learn to drop things.”

“Not when it involves me,” he says.

“Who says it involves you?”

“Do we need to go over this again?”

You look at him in question, only to realize he could read you just as well as he could at any other instance.

“You’re not gonna like it,” you finally say.

“Try me.”

“Would you hate me if I said I wanted to kiss you?”

He pauses for an agonizing few moments, ones that make you feel like erupting into a ball of fire that could melt all the snow in the land. Your numb fingers fidget with each other, hating yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth.

Minghao uses his mouth in ways other than words when you feel it against your lips. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening and another to let your body take control.

He’s kissing you so painfully slow it has you wondering if you’re imagining it, the feeling of his surprisingly warm lips on your frozen ones. You pull away for a moment, a question ringing in your mind.

“I’m not making a mistake, am I?” you breathe into his mouth.

“Absolutely not,” he says, diving back in with a force not present before.

You throw your arms around him in instinct to keep yourself from falling back onto the snow in his newfound enthusiasm. Not that you can find yourself complaining, especially not when his tongue prods against your bottom lip, urging you to open up for him.

You let him pull you closer, let him explore your mouth, let him hold you as you give yourself up to the feelings that now, after so long, have finally boiled over.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, remaining in each other’s arms as you gain your bearings.

“Figured it out, did you?” he asks with the slightest smirk.

Of course, with every passing instance that he’s reminded you of the mental walls you don’t seem to have with him, this was perhaps his end goal. You want to ask when he figured out you liked him before, wondering if he had known before you had in the first place.

He doesn’t let you, though, as his smiling lips meet yours again, chasing the feeling that's come forth after months of waiting.

You’ll find out the run down soon enough. For now, you give into him, believing in your ice-cold heart that Xu Minghao would never lie to you.

Taglist: @weird-bookworm @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #minghao #minghao fluff #minghao angst #minghao imagines #minghao x reader #the8 #em.writes

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